Vip Hearts

Aliyah Whitmore is a driven marketing executive who’s done with romance after a string of bad relationships. She’s focused on her career, refusing to let anyone get close. But when she meets Logan Pierce, a charismatic tech billionaire, things start to shift. Logan is used to getting what he wants, but Aliyah’s no-nonsense attitude and refusal to play along intrigue him. Forced to work together, their undeniable chemistry begins to blur the lines between business and personal. As their intense attraction grows, Aliyah struggles to keep her guard up, knowing a relationship with Logan could be risky. Logan, tired of superficial connections, is determined to break through her walls. With both their careers and hearts on the line, they must decide if their fiery connection is worth the risk.

Do you believe that a person can be reincarnated with the same soul but different body? Two souls have met and hated each other on their past life. Bounded by mystery, they found their self-looking for each other...not to continue their romance but to seek revenge. Until when will their hearts render hate towards each other? How many reincarnations will it take to change their destiny? Kalantiaw a ruler of Panay and other Islet takes interest with Amaya. He forced her to live with him. On their wedding day Amaya had planned to kill him. Little did they know the thing that killed Kalantiaw will kill her too. After a century they are reincarnated into different persons. He was holding into his grudge and promise to get his revenge on her and to find the answer on their weird entanglement.

For three years, I slept with my father’s head of security behind everyone’s back. Last night, with one hand at my throat and the other under my dress, he finally asked for a name, a future, something real. “After graduation,” I whispered against his mouth. “Let me finish my defense first. Then we’ll tell them.” “No.” By then I was shaking beneath him on the leather seat. “Then sooner. On my birthday next Friday. I’ll stop hiding then... Cassian, please—gentler...” That seemed to satisfy him. His mouth softened against my skin, and his voice dropped low against my ear. “Good girl. I just want you too much.” The next afternoon, I met my best friend for tea. The moment she opened the passenger door, she spotted the torn foil packet caught beside the seat and lifted a brow. “Bourbon cherry?” she said, already grinning. “That’s our company’s unreleased line. So this is what you’ve been hiding.” I snatched it up and shoved it into my bag. “It’s not public yet.” She frowned. “That’s the strange part. We only sent those samples to a handful of VIP clients.” Then she pulled out her phone. “I did a product follow-up with one of them yesterday, and his private account was basically a shrine to his girlfriend.” She turned the screen toward me. I only looked once, and my whole body went cold. The man in the photo had a line of Latin script inked low across his abdomen. I knew that tattoo. I had kissed it the night before. My fingers started shaking as I opened the private account Cassian had never shown me. April 4. The conservatory. Me and him. April 7. The upstairs studio. Me and him again. April 11—last night. A six-second clip in the back of the car.

Savannah Elise Hart is perfect on paper—polished, untouchable, and desperate to keep it that way. Cassian Rhys Blackwood is chaos in his black leather jacket, with a smirk that could undo her world. When a rumor threatens Savannah’s future and a false accusation jeopardizes Cassian’s freedom, their fake dating deal seems simple—until stolen kisses in the dark and whispered confessions ignite something dangerously real. He pins her against the studio wall, paint smeared on her cheek as his lips hover over hers. “Tell me this doesn’t feel real.” In a game where rules shatter and hearts are on the line, pretending has never been so tempting—or so risky.

Calista Sommers is living her perfectly beautiful life. She's seen by everybody as the ideal good girl, until she met Asher Montgomery, the exact opposite of her 'perfect' personality, who not only brought extra colors and excitements to her life but also sorrow, heartbreak, and despair. When they parted after their high school love ended, they met again after several years. This time, it’s up for destiny to decide if they are truly meant to be, or should they just let go. “Like a drug you messed with my head, a constant battle whether i should remember or forget. Goodbyes after repeated meetings, repetitions of broken hearts, why do we bother with love if it never lasts?”

Two kindred hearts belong together, destined by the Moon Goddess but decade after decade, their reincarnated love is prevented by circumstances and enemies from every side. Desperate to finally have the love story happen, the Goddess tries one last time, raising the souls once more. Clarissa dreams constantly of a werewolf who leaves before she can see his face while Carlin only remembers a distinct laugh from his many disturbing hallucinations. Alas, when they are brought together once again, so do their ancient enemies and the so-called circumstances arise. However, this time, the duo are determined to triumph over their foes and win the ultimate prize: the chance to love each other till eternity.

Amelia Prescott needs a paycheck, not a death wish. But when a desperate nanny agency drops her into a snowbound mansion with a brooding Russian mobster and his unnervingly silent daughter, she discovers that danger wears expensive suits—and keeps juice boxes in the pantry. Dmitri Volkov doesn’t trust strangers. Especially not ones who talk too much, smile too easily, and make his daughter laugh for the first time in a year. But the storm outside isn’t the only threat coming, and protecting what’s his might mean letting someone in—for the first time since he lost everything. A glitter bomb romance where chaos meets control—and hearts learn how to speak again.

His sinful hands traveled to her waist as she looked at him; her breath hitched as he traced her belly button “You are so vulnerable right now,” his gaze landed on the gunshot wound on her chest, just between her breasts. The fact that she was not wearing a bra right now was very distracting. Even with the scar she was so beautiful. “So are you,” he whispered keeping the gun in her hands. The heat of their graze did not help with the hot atmosphere of the room; this was deadly. “We can’t deceive both agencies,” her murmur was soft, unlike the sound of his harsh breathing. “We can, we will,” He looked straight into her eyes as her lips trembled. So unlikely of the girl she was. “It's a matter of two countries,” she whispered, her last straw against him, she knew she would give up if he had an answer to this. That she would let go of the lust suffocating her insides after this. “It's a matter of two hearts,” her eyes snapped to his immediately. “I can't seem to forget the little girl who took a bullet for me,” He said as her lips parted in shock. “You… knew?” she could not form more words. He could not find himself to answer anything else than a nod, he was deceiving her in the name of love. ‘Ya Allah, why do I have to do this?’ she asked her god taking her eyes away from him for a second. “It's the matter of two hearts, two bodies, two souls…” and two deceivers, the word they both so wanted to add but couldn’t. “Have me,” He whispered. “Take me,” she obliged In which she deceived him before he could deceive her

"Strip for me," he commanded, his ice-blue eyes devouring her. "Tonight, I take what's mine." I thought I knew betrayal when I caught my fiancé's balls-deep in another woman. I thought I'd hit rock bottom when that woman turned out to be my TWIN SISTER. But the real knife in my back? He was her boyfriend first. For eight months, she fed him every secret about me—my fears, my dreams, my insecurities—so he could seduce me, make me fall in love, and destroy me when it hurt the most. Why? Because she's always hated that I'm successful. That I'm respected. That people love me for who I am, not what I look like. So there I was—promoted, engaged, happy—walking into my fiancé's apartment to celebrate... only to find him f*cking my sister against the wall while she smirked at me over his shoulder. "Surprise, sister. He was always mine." I should've gone home. I should've cried. Should've been the victim they wanted me to be. Instead, I walked into the most exclusive bar in New York and caught the attention of the most dangerous man in the city. Dante Ashford. Billionaire. My ex-fiancé's boss. Sex personified. And currently getting pleasured by a beautiful blonde in the VIP lounge—while staring directly at ME. He said my name while another woman's mouth was on him. Then he dismissed her with one cold word: "Leave." When I demanded to know how he knew who I was, he smiled like the devil making a deal. "I know everything about you. Your cheating fiancé and backstabbing sister. I know exactly how to make them pay." His offer was simple: Marry me. Destroy them. I'll give you power, wealth, and revenge. My response shocked us both: "I'll marry you. But first... take my virginity. Tonight."

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.