Tragic Temptress

I'd loved Jeffrey for seven years. When I was kidnapped, Jeffrey didn't pay the ransom because of Joanna. He wanted me to behave myself. After I endured hellish torture, I gave up Jeffrey as he wished. But he begged me to give him a second chance.

My husband, Jaxon Murray, was a renowned medical expert and owned a big company. He was participating in a clinical drug trial when someone tampered with his medication. Under the influence, he ended up entangled with an intern—ninety-nine times, right there on the lab table. When he regained clarity, he rushed home, locked himself in the bathroom, and submerged himself in the tub without food or water as he waited for me to return from work. "Lauren," he said, "my medication was switched during the trial. I made a terrible mistake. But I paid her off and had her dismissed. She'll never appear before me again." I wept miserably, clutching my belly that had once again failed to carry life. And in the end, I chose to forgive him. Several months later, he crashed into a guardrail while answering a phone call, causing me to miscarry. The injury left me unable to conceive for life. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his voice choked with remorse. "Darling, I don't deserve you. I'm so sorry… We don't need children. We have each other, isn't that enough?" One day, I went to bring him lunch, only to find him in the next hospital room, cradling and feeding the woman he swore he'd never see again. "She's too weak to eat by herself," he said. "She has early-stage stomach cancer. There's no one else to take care of her… she's all alone." I chose to believe him. Again. Until one day, a pair of twins appeared in our home. Sophie Dixon knelt before me, wearing the postpartum gown he had once lovingly picked out for me, clutching my hand with tears streaming down her face. "It's all my fault. Please don't blame Jaxon. If you say the word, I'll leave with the children immediately." Jaxon grabbed my other hand, desperation thick in his voice. "Lauren, you've always been the kindest person I know. The children are still so young. How could Sophie possibly raise them alone? You wouldn't be that cruel… would you?" I looked down at the hands gripping mine from both sides, and suddenly, I laughed. "Jaxon, let's get a divorce. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness."

Sawyer Patterson intended to leave me again for his childhood sweetheart, Mathilde Payne. We'd been together for ten years, and this was our seventh engagement party. For the previous six times, Mathilde always had some kind of emergency. This time, I wasn't going to let him go. "We're about to exchange rings. It won't take long. She's just got a slight fever. It's not a big deal if you go later, right?" Sawyer lost it. "Can you stop making a scene? Mathilde has always been frail. We've been together for ten years. We can do without a ceremony." He walked out, leaving me behind with a broken heart. This time, I was truly done with him.

After dying in a tragic accident, Rhianne found herself transmigrated in a novel world as a character. To her much disappointment, she became the character who has a tragic fate in the end just because she falls in love with the wrong person. To avoid her tragic fate in the novel, she decided not to do all the stupid things the original character did in the novel. Instead, Rhianne decided to fulfill the dreams she didn't accomplish in her past life. But the novel doesn't want to let her off easily. Instead, all the people she wanted to avoid were now approaching her one by one. Even if she decided to change her fate, how can Rhianne avoid her tragic ending?

One contract. No escape. And a husband who craves control—in and out of the bedroom. Alessia Romano never expected her body would be the price for peace. But when her father forces her into a contract marriage with Dante Moretti—the powerful, merciless don of their sworn rivals—she’s thrown into a world of silk sheets and brutal dominance. Dante isn’t just older, colder, and dangerously hot. He’s a man ruled by one obsession: control through pleasure. And Alessia? She’s his new addiction. Insatiable, possessive, and unapologetically sinful, Dante doesn’t just want a wife—he wants a toy, a temptress, a captive queen. His hunger is endless. His rules are twisted. And Alessia quickly discovers that surrendering to him means losing more than her freedom—it means being owned. But in a world drenched in power, betrayal, and lust, can obsession turn into love… or will it burn them both alive?

He is known for his devilish side, nobody dared to cross him. He's ruthless,cruel and dangerous to his enemies except to a certain cop who's hell bent on putting him behind bars. She is determined to take down the man who had caused her grief at a young age, the man who killed her parents before her. Things take a turn and she finds herself teaming up with the one person she loathes, a man who's too cocky and annoying for his own good. Despite fighting hard to keep her feelings contained, he's determined to break down the walls she has built and show her exactly what he wants. And he wants HER. This book is part of a series: Book 1: Badboy Asher Book 2: His Blonde Temptress Book 3: Loving The Enemy Book 4: Bestfriends Shouldn't Know How You Taste

I was the Luna who gave my Alpha everything—my heart, my loyalty, my dignity. Ethan repaid me by bedding she-wolf after she-wolf, while our mate bond slowly poisoned what was left of my soul. When he suggested we "play the field separately," I finally broke. I found Cameron, a young Alpha whose gentle touch healed every wound Ethan carved into me. Now I've slipped Ethan the Moonbreak Herb to sever our bond forever. Thirty days, and I'll be free. But Ethan never bothered to ask what I gave him to drink—he was too busy running to his latest omega. He has no idea that when the moon breaks, so will we. And by then, it'll be too late for regrets.

Five years ago, Suri ruptured her uterus pushing Bruce out of the path of a car. The injury left her unable to have kids. But Bruce didn't care—he still pushed for the wedding. After they got married, he poured nearly everything into her. Or so she thought. Then came the scandal. One of his business rivals leaked it, and just like that, the truth exploded online—Bruce had another woman. She was already over three months pregnant. That night, he dropped to his knees. "Suri, please. I'll fix it. I won't let her keep the baby..." And Suri? She forgave him. But on their fifth anniversary, she rushed to the hotel Bruce had reserved—only to find something else entirely. In the next room, Bruce sat beaming, surrounded by friends and family, celebrating that mistress's birthday. The smile on his face—pure joy. A smile she'd never once seen from him. That was the moment she knew. It was over. Time to go.

My wife transplanted the donor heart I had waited for two years for to the fake heir, Sean Morgan. The doctor said I only had one week left to live, so I decided to freeze my body. I donated my body to Sean's lab. On the day I signed the donation letter, my daughter threw herself into my arms and said I had finally made up with her uncle. My parents praised me for finally understanding the deep bond and mutual support between brothers. My wife said with relief, "You've finally let go of your grudges and become an understanding person." I smiled gently. "Yes, this time I’ve really learned my lesson. I will return the status of the Morgan family heir to Sean and fulfill your wishes.”

On the fourth day after my son's death, I decided to secretly dissolve my military marriage with my husband. Before that, I had three days to settle everything for my son. On the first day, I tricked my husband into signing the cremation papers. On the second day, I went to the school and collected the textbooks my son would never get to use. On the third day, I cooked a table full of dishes and begged my husband to celebrate our son's last birthday. He agreed, but soon after claimed he had a mission. Instead, he spent the entire night setting off fireworks with his childhood sweetheart. That night, I cooked. Then, I sat alone before my son's photo and ate all my son's favorite foods. The next day, my husband returned, guilt flickering in his eyes as he handed me a brand-new backpack. He said it was a gift for our child's first day of school. But he didn't know—our child would never have a first day of school.