Twelve Rounds 3 Novels & Stories

"You'll be dead within a year," her uncle said, signing her life away with a stroke of his pen. "But at least you'll finally be useful." Ivy Rowan had always been invisible. Starved, beaten, and silenced by the family that stole her inheritance. When her uncle's debts catch up to him, she becomes the payment. He sold her to Dorian Vale, the billionaire mafia lord cursed to bury every woman he marries. Twelve brides. Twelve graves. All within a year. Dorian doesn't expect his thirteenth bride to last any longer. She's fragile, flinches at every sound. Her weakness annoys him. She never fights back and barely speaks. But then he notices something strange. She doesn't fear him. And that wakes something in him he thought was long dead. It turns out the curse isn't supernatural. It's murder. Someone is killing the brides. And the killer has already chosen their next victim. Dorian has never saved anyone. Ivy has never been worth saving. Will Dorian's cold heart thaw in time to save her? Or will Ivy become the final victim of his curse?

I was invisible. A wolf-less servant, beaten down and forgotten. Until the Lycan King saw me. For twelve years, I survived by making myself nothing: no voice, no power, no hope. My stepfamily made sure I knew my place. But they never knew my secret: I'm not wolf-less. I'm a silver wolf, blessed by the Moon Goddess herself, hiding in plain sight because showing my true nature would've gotten me killed. Then Kael Devereaux walked into the Culling ceremony, and everything shattered. One look. One scent. One brutal claiming bite in front of thousands, and I became his. Lycan King's fated mate, his Luna, his healing. Kael isn't looking for love. He’s loosing his mind and I am the only thing standing between him and madness. Now I'm trapped in a palace of enemies who want me dead, bound to a king who's equal parts monster and salvation, and discovering that my hidden power might be the only thing that can break his curse or doom us both. They think I'm weak and breakable. They are wrong. I didn't survive twelve years of hell just to bow to a new kind of monster. I survived to become one. Welcome to the Shadowstone Citadel. Try not to bleed on the throne.

The night before my wedding, I found out I was pregnant. That same night, I found out my fiancé had already chosen another woman to give him his first child. Adrian DeLuca, heir to a mafia empire and the man who once swore I was the only woman he would ever love, came home carrying her perfume on his clothes and told me, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world, that it was only a medical arrangement. His dead friend’s widow needed an heir, and after I had failed to give him one through sixty-six rounds of IVF, he had decided this was the best solution for everyone. I said nothing. I let him go on preparing the wedding. I let him believe I would still walk down the aisle and become Mrs. DeLuca. But while he was planning our ceremony, I was planning my disappearance. On our wedding day, the estate would still open its doors. The guests would still arrive. The ceremony would still begin. But the bride Adrian DeLuca betrayed would die there. By the time he learned the truth, that I had been carrying his child all along, I would already be gone under a new name, taking his heir somewhere he could never reach.

I bought a million-dollar set of gold as my bridal accessories at the jewelry store. The wedding date was fast approaching, but the pieces still had not arrived. I personally went to the store to pick it up, but the sales assistant said the price of gold had increased, and I had to make up the price difference. “In the past two weeks, the price of gold has risen by $98 per gram. Since you purchased 1,314 grams, the price difference amounts to $128,772, which rounds up to $130,000.” She showed the number on the calculator to me, and I became speechless. “Two weeks ago, I already paid the full payment. You said the store provides the delivery service, so I did not take it with me. This is a scam!” The sales assistant looked at me with a scornful expression. “We’ve been in business for ten years, and we do honest deals only. Keep running your mouth off, and I swear I’ll sue you for defamation!” What she said had reminded me that the ten-year lease contract that I signed with them had expired. I immediately took out my phone and called her boss. “From this year onward, the rental cost will increase by 50%. If you can’t afford the rental cost, move out immediately!” “Why?” I sneered and said, “You’ll have to ask your staff then!”

After being disfigured by a fire, Annabelle Sanchez was kicked out by her parents. Twelve years later, she was brought back, not out of guilt but out of the need of a victim of an arranged marriage. What was worse, her fiancé, disdaining her looks, dumped her in public. In desperation, she married Kendrick Gregory, her ex-fiancé's brother. After marriage, Kendrick was surprised to find that Annabelle was incredibly gorgeous. She, on the other hand, realized Kendrick was actually a cunning fox.

One year. No city luxuries. No running away. Julian is a reckless billionaire who just got cut off from his family trust and Savannah is a trapped ranch heiress suffocating under her father’s control. They need this arranged marriage to buy their freedom, but they hate each other on sight. Forced to survive twelve months together on a rugged Washington ranch, they expect a battle of wills and clash at all times but they didn't expect the dangerous spark that threatens to burn their contract to ash.

Luke was a , not that he had a choice. He was kidnapped when he was twelve and sold and rented off to different men. At the age of 20, he was deemed damaged goods and left on the streets to die. Valentino Sero was a ruthless man, that is if you cross him. He runs hotels and casinos, as well as underground gun and trades. You know the gist, Italian man, involved with the mafia. One thing about him is he likes to take in broken people, help them and trap them into working in the mafia for the rest of their lives.

Born into a blended family, Chantelle grew up on the sidelines, raised with love by her grandmother after her mother's death. Shut out by her father Gérard, dominated by his new wife Rhonda, and relegated to the background behind her pretentious stepsister Mégane, she learned to survive in silence. When her grandmother is diagnosed with a terminal illness, Chantelle's world crumbles. With no family support and overwhelmed by medical bills, she accepts a desperate proposition: one hundred nights for one million euros, with a wealthy man whose identity she will never know. The rules are simple. A blindfold over her eyes, a stranger's touch, and silence. He never speaks. She never sees. He leaves her with anonymous bank transfers... and the haunting scent of his perfume as her only memory. Twelve nights pass. Then, forced by her father to attend a family dinner, Chantelle comes face to face with Mégane's fiancé: Collen Wilkerson—the cold, unapproachable CEO of the powerful corporation where she works as a simple employee. He is a man she knows only from a distance. Arrogant. Untouchable. But when he steps closer, a familiar scent wraps around her, and the world stops. It's his perfume. The same as the masked man. She has already spent twelve nights in his arms. And there are still eighty-eight to go.

My mate and my brother hated me for twelve years. They believed I stole their precious Sarah's herbal research and bullied her for twelve years into silence. At my marking ceremony, they exposed my "crimes" to the entire supernatural world. "She's nothing but a bully who torments her packmates and a thief who stole the herb formula from Sarah!" But Sarah smiled through her tears: "The formula doesn't matter anymore." "As long as it saved our wolves from silver poisoning, what does it matter who created it?" "I've already forgiven her." She became the pack's angel of mercy. I was condemned by thousands, until the very wolf I'd saved with my medicine poured silver water over my head. In my despair, I dragged Sarah down with me into death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my second year of high school. Sarah was slicing her arm with a silver blade, smiling as she asked: "Have you thought about how you'll apologize to me?" Something in me snapped. My Alpha power surged forth, crushing her to her knees. I grabbed the blade: "Let me show you what real cuts look like."

On the night before our wedding, my fiancée's ex-boyfriend lost in three rounds of Truth or Dare. Round One was Truth. He had to confess the most intimate thing he'd ever done with the opposite sex. Rob Ross shot me a wink. "That scar on Dorothy's thigh? I accidentally bit her there." Round Two was Truth again. He had to reveal a secret no one else in the room knew. He blushed a little. "When Dorothy was fast asleep, I took care of her physical needs for her." Round Three was Dare. He had to kiss a lady in the room for a full ten seconds. Without hesitation, he turned and kissed my fiancée, Dorothy Bryant. Dorothy froze for a moment, then held the back of his head and kissed him back. As the room watched in shock, she pulled Rob behind a screen, and they proceeded to entwine passionately, oblivious to the stares. The entire room fell into a stunned, suffocating silence. Every pair of eyes swiveled toward me. They all braced for an explosive outburst. But when the pair finally emerged from behind the screen, still lost in each other, I was the first to break the tension by clapping enthusiastically. "Such being the case, why not make him the groom tomorrow?"