Travis Phelps Sally Face

By a twist of fate, my husband, Morgan Lancaster, and I perish together in a sea of flames. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the very day we received our marriage certificate. In my previous life, we appeared to be a loving couple in the eyes of others, yet Morgan refused to share a bedroom with me the entire time we were married. It was only moments before our deaths that I discovered I was merely a substitute for his first love and that he had chosen to remain chaste for her for life. After getting another chance at life, neither of us mentions the past. Instead, by mutual understanding, we file for divorce that same day. From that point on, we go our separate ways. Eight years later, Morgan shows up arm in arm with his childhood sweetheart, Freya Springer, at a business summit. He is now a prominent and celebrated rising star in the business world. Seeing me dressed in a plain outfit, he approaches with a glass of champagne. His tone drips with mockery as he asks, "Ms. Smith, even if you still have feelings for me, there's no need to dress like a waitress just to get close to me. You aren't hoping for a reconciliation, are you?" I say nothing and simply smile as I wave at someone in the distance. My son, Theo Coltrane, toddles over and tugs at the hem of my shirt. "Mommy, Daddy says that he's tired from waiting so long. When are you coming home with us?" The smile on Morgan's face freezes instantly, and he nearly loses his grip on the glass in his hand.

"Don't you know how to fake a smile anymore? Those irritating little smiles of yours that screamed nothing but desperation? We're making an appearance in front of several high calibre people for goodness sake. You must carry this facade on without any slip, Rosalie.” He said.  My chest pinched, and I looked away, pretending to adjust my bracelet to hide the pain. “I know."  ~                                    ~ “Rosaline...” Ezra murmured. “Why help me to ruin a man you once loved?”   "Why?" I repeated. "Because they took everything from me—the one thing I loved more than life itself. They destroyed my life, my reputation, my happiness, all to serve their own selfish agendas. Him and his mistress. I've been maltreated and betrayed severally, countlessly! But no more. It's my turn to take what I deserve: their pain, their humiliation, their downfall." I paused, my face hardening into an expression of pure, vengeful rage. "And I will make them suffer for it.” *                  *.             * Rosalie’s journey had been a tumultuous one– betrayal and pain. The transactional marriage that she had entered into, hoping one day it would turn around to be a marriage for love, had instead left her heartbroken and betrayed. Her ex- husband’s infidelity, coupled with an unimaginable cruelty that he had subjected her to, had shattered her beyond repair.  Now, fueled by a desire for vengeance, Rosalie had returned to seek revenge on those who had wronged her. Joining forces with her ex-husband's rival, a ruthless business tycoon who harbored his own grudges against her ex-husband, she plotted a scheme that would bring them both justice...and ruin.

"I can't do this no more. I'm leaving you, Rupert Peter Myrie," Tasha said, her heart thudding in her chest. He turned, locking his eyes with hers, but she didn't flinch. Rupert snorted softly, his footsteps slow and deliberate as he approached, each breath husky, each movement heavy until he stood just an inch away. "Tee, you must be really angry for you to be calling me by my full name." "Stick to the point," she said, turning her face from his intimidating gaze. "I want to end things with you." Her voice trembled, but she forced the words out. He closed the space between them. "You want to end things with me?" His voice dropped. "Who teaching you this 'strong woman' crap?" He wrapped his arms around her, gently rocking her and pulling her to his chest. "The only way I'll ever let you leave me... is in a body bag." ****** After escaping a toxic relationship and years of being controlled, Tasha Mackenzie finds herself under the protection of Joseph Grind, America's most feared Mafia boss. He’s cold-blooded. Untouchable. And hiding a secret darker than his empire: he's also the Alpha of the Stinging Vipers werewolf pack. As Tasha is pulled into his dangerous world, she learns the man protecting her has a fiancée he claims is just a business deal. But how can she trust a man feared by an entire country, let alone love him? Can Tasha survive the war between her heart and his secrets... or will loving a monster destroy her for good?

The day Adrian Knight clinched a contract with our biggest client, I "accidentally" tipped a bottle of ink across the paperwork, voiding it on the spot. Because of that single blot, the project landed in Alex Lewis’s lap, and he won Chairman Henry Carter’s favor almost overnight, moving into the Carter mansion as their future son-in-law and watching his net worth rocket into eight figures. Adrian never blamed me. He just laughed that he’d never been executive material anyway and happily brought me home as his bride. Everyone whispered that, if not for my meddling, Adrian would already be sitting in the Carter family’s executive suite instead of scraping by in an ordinary life with me. Only I knew the truth: stopping him from signing that contract had saved his life. When Adrian learned I was pregnant, he locked me in the basement, fingers digging into my throat. "If it hadn’t been for you," he snarled, "I’d be Henry Carter’s son-in-law by now. You’re the reason I lost Rachel, the princess of the Carter family." That’s when I realized he’d been nursing this grudge for years. After he killed me, I woke up, reborn on the very day Adrian first reached for that fatal contract. This time, I’ll make sure Adrian Knight gets exactly what he wants.

Late in my pregnancy, my husband, Joshua Jaxson’s ex-wife returned.  Olivia Wylde cornered me at my doorstep and, without a word, launched into a brutal attack.  She insisted I was an intruder who had taken advantage of her absence to steal her place. I pleaded, explaining I wasn’t a mistress, but she refused to believe me.  Together with her supporters, she tore my home apart and beat me so viciously that I went into premature labor.  Blood pooled beneath me, and my consciousness began to slip, but she greeted my husband’s arrival with a radiant smile.  “Honey,” she said, “I’m back. Let’s get remarried!”

I had been sneaking around behind my brother’s back with Eden Smith, his best friend's brother. He pulled me close by the waist and drove us wild in all kinds of places. At bars, in the wild, and in even empty public restrooms, he was always eager for more. It was like unlocking new levels in a game. He was five years younger than me. He always called my name in his pitiful and innocent tone while gripping my waist with renewed vigor. He never let me escape. “L-let me go!”

My junior accidentally broke the most expensive piece of equipment in the lab and asked me to help fix it. I had just started touching the instrument when she suddenly stepped back, tears brimming, and said, "Michelle, I can't take responsibility for this. I really can't afford it." Before I could even process her words, Nicky Hardy—the unattainable crush I had chased for three years—rushed in and shielded her behind him. Then he turned to me with a glare that could freeze fire. "Michelle, don't go too far. You can't expect her to take the fall for you." I stared at him, dumbfounded. "You know full well I was shoved into this research group. I don't understand any of this stuff. How could I do the experiments on my own?" His eyes grew colder, dripping with disdain. "I've been saying it—what can a nepo baby actually accomplish? And now the equipment's ruined, and you still have the nerve to push the blame onto Elizabeth?" I opened my mouth to argue, but then I caught a flicker of triumph across Elizabeth Horwitz's face in Nicky's arms. That was when it clicked. They only knew I got in through connections—they had no idea I'd financed this very equipment myself. They wanted to play their petty power games over a piece of lab equipment worth over ten million? Interesting.

Three days after my father’s death, I was home, planning his funeral. A woman and a group of bodyguards stormed in. She shoved me, hard. "Who the hell do you think you are?" she screamed. "Get out of my house! Now!" I froze, stunned. A new housekeeper? Maybe my brother Liam hired her. I kept my voice calm. "This house is mine. Liam knows that. If you have a problem, take it up with him." Her face twisted into a mask of rage. Then she slapped me. "Yours?" She scoffed, looking me up and down with disgust. "This is my boyfriend Liam's house. And you look like you don't belong here. I don't know if you're the new maid or the cook, but I don't care. Get the hell out. Now." My blood ran cold. I pulled out my phone and texted my assistant. [Tell Liam to get home and handle his girlfriend. Now. Or he won't see a dime of the family money.]

At a family dinner, Don Vincenzo’s new pet, a dancer named Ava, came for me. She puffed out her chest and slammed a ledger on the long table. “Vincenzo, I accuse her! Skimming from the family business, our club ‘The Siren’s Song.’ Betraying the family!” Every eye in the room turned on me, sharp as knives. But Vincenzo, my boss… his face went hard. I almost pitied the little dancer who’d crawled her way out of Brooklyn. The “family business” she was talking about? It was my private club. A gift from my father. I just lent it to Vincenzo when he was starting out, to give him a respectable front. I lent it to him for two years, and now it’s family property?

The cold seawater engulfs me, its relentless pull dragging me into the abyss. I kick desperately, my lungs burning, but the surface drifts farther and farther away. "Save me, Kane… save our child…" Pain lances through my body as I clutch my stomach, shielding the fragile life within me. The child I never thought I'd have, the child who was supposed to be our blessing. Through the watery haze, I see Kane Porter standing on the jagged cliffs above the shore. His tall, commanding figure is framed by the moonlight, his golden eyes burning with hatred. The alpha of the Nightfall Pack, the man who once whispered my name with reverence, now looks at me like I'm filth beneath his feet. His voice cuts through the roaring waves, sharp and merciless. "Don't think I don't know what you've done, Selene." The currents tug me deeper. My strength wanes, but his words stab deeper than the water ever could. "You drugged me with a philter, hoping to make me mark you—hoping to force your way into the position of my Luna. Because of your selfishness, Arya is gone. You destroyed her mind, pushed her into madness!" A shadow of despair twists across his face, but it vanishes beneath pure fury. "She fell from that cliff because of you." I shake my head, but I can’t speak. The sea is swallowing my voice. "Do you know what it’s like to wake up every day in torment? To live knowing the woman I loved died because of you?" His eyes glint like a wolf ready to tear out his prey's throat. "I want you to feel every ounce of that pain. I want you and your cursed child to die with her." The waves crash above me, and darkness claws at the edges of my vision. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day Kane's philter takes effect. He approaches me, his face flushed and his breathing rapid. He's already undone his buttons. "Hang on, Kane. Arya will be here soon!" I back away and open the door behind me. Then, I run off.