When He Was Wicked

When hot dominant billionaire alpha meets an omega in heat,her legs opened that her soaked panties were visible,her smell so sweet he could taste it,one night of hot passionate sex, Dominco Gustavo changes his mind about his no sleeping with omega rules, realizing no alpha in his right mind could resist an omega atleast not one as hot as Nora Payton.

He forgot their vows. She remembers every lie. After a brutal accident leaves Callum Thorne with no memory of his wife, Iris is forced to fight for a love that only she remembers. Trapped in the Thorne family estate, surrounded by people who want her gone, Iris is determined to win back the man she married—even if he’s no longer the man he was. But when fragments of the past start to resurface, Callum begins to suspect his accident wasn’t so accidental. The more he uncovers, the more he questions everything—especially the woman he’s drawn to but can’t trust. In a world of wealth, control, and buried secrets, love isn’t safe. And the truth might cost them both more than their marriage. Vows He Doesn’t Remember is a dark, gripping romance about memory, manipulation, and the fight to reclaim what’s real—before it's too late.

"I’m a good girl—until I got drunk in Vegas and married a panties-flaming-hot Irishman. Oops. I’ve always lived my life by the rules. Unlike my two sisters, I’m the good one. The responsible one. Going outside my comfort zone is when I wear red lipstick before five PM. That comfort zone of mine? It’s smashed to smithereens on a wild night in Las Vegas when I met—and married—Liam Gallagher. After one shot of tequila, then two, then too many to count, a good girl’s rules tend to disappear. And so do her panties, and her bra, and various other articles of clothing when she’s with an Irishman who knows his way around a woman’s body. Now my husband wants us to stay married. For six months. He says it’ll be worth my while. Considering our chemistry underneath the sheets, I can’t say that he’s wrong. Liam isn’t safe, though. Liam definitely isn’t comfortable. He’s like the male equivalent of wearing red lipstick in the daytime all wrapped up in an irresistible, dangerous package. Yet this stubborn Irishman isn’t about to let me go, drunken Princess Bride-themed Vegas wedding or no. Now I have to decide if I’m brave enough to break the rules for love."

“I will never love you.” His voice was deep and quiet, yet cold enough to pierce straight through my bones. God, I knew he only married me because I had the same rare blood type as his lover. I just want to be able to breathe and live better than I do now. When I asked for a divorce, he should have been happy—his lover had regained consciousness, after all. But his reaction was confusing. “You want a divorce? Do you think you can pull another sly trick by saying that?” “There will be no divorce until you repay everything I’ve given to your family, Sandra.'"

He had once sworn I was his fated Luna, the Omega he cherished above all. However, just a month shy of our bonding, he decided to repay a life-saving grace by fathering a child with his old flame. To add insult to injury, he swiped the herbal research I was on the cusp of unveiling. He claimed he was trapped, obligated to both sides. I, however, was done with him. I cut ties, called off our Bonding Ceremony, and set off for the Northwood tundra to lose myself in my research. Two years on, he pleaded for my return, professing I was his one true love. However, by then, I was renowned far and wide, and he was nothing to me.

The night my husband, William Costello, was assassinated by his enemies was supposed to be a celebration—our wedding anniversary. I was dressed in his favorite red dress, waiting for him, when the phone rang. "Mr. Costello was shot at the harbor. The bullet went through the back of his head. He died on the spot." I collapsed to the floor. I clung to his belongings, mourning for a week straight. We even lost our unborn child during this time. Everyone said William and I were true love. Even the Don himself came to the funeral, resting a heavy hand on my shoulder with a sigh. He said, "All of Blackhaven knows you were the only woman he ever loved." Grief nearly destroyed me. I stood at the river's edge, ready to follow William into the afterlife. However, I overheard my sister-in-law, Emily Hawkins, leaning into my brother-in-law, Jones Costello, her voice dripping with a twisted affection. She purred, "William, I love you so much. Between Nina and me, who do you think is sexier?" "Of course it's you, babe!" came the husky reply. I stood frozen, my eyes wide and my body trembling. Why was Emily calling my brother-in-law by my husband's name?

You can call her Cindy or Elle, well her name depends on the town she's living in. Her real name's Leira Mint Salcedo, the girl who wants to die. Or at least that's what she always says and thinks about. Until at her fourth suicide attempt, an intruder named Chris suddenly came to her, asking for help. Soon as she opened her glass door, it felt like she welcomed him in her life. Crisostomo "Chris" Ychavez, a self-proclaimed man of his words who intervenes with Leira's fourth suicide attempt. He is kind, thoughtful, and a very understanding man who would want to help Leira to appreciate the beauty of life and making things right. Chris and Leira's uncanny encounters continued. They always meet accidentally. When she needs help, when she's afraid, when she's alone, even if she doesn't want Chris' presence, he is mysteriously, always there. After Leira runs away from her best friend, she is now jobless and renting at Lumiere Town. Without a job, she's on the verge of becoming homeless until Chris proposes something to her. Chris wants to travel to the Disney Republic and so she proposed to Leira to travel together. All expenses are shouldered by Chris, all he is asking is for Leira to come and join him. Left without a choice, she agreed. And so, they traveled the country together, met a lot of people, discovered some truths and lies, and the reason behind Chris' kindness towards Leira. Time is ticking for Chris and Leira is still thinking about her own death. Will Chris be able to save her after she finds out who he really is in her life, or it will gonna be a reason for her to continue her final suicide plan?

HE IS THE BOY THAT WAS BORN AS A GIRL AND HAD TO PROVE TO HIMSELF, EVERY DAY THAT HE IS MAN ENOUGH FOR THE WORLD. ~~~~~~~ Adrian's life hasn't been one he is proud of since he lost his home the day he came out to his family. He thought they loved him as they always said but it turned out it was all a big fat lie. Going through life and trying to make the most of it, he met a man who would turn his whole world around. Just when he thought he was finally going to be happy, fate showed up with another plan, one that would leave Adrian wondering whether living was actually worth it. ~~~^~~~ "Elijah, you can't be serious!" "I am." "Why?" "Because he's a man and he is mine!"

Caleb Lawson's childhood sweetheart, Yvette Grant, is pregnant. No one knows who the father is. Caleb decides to claim the child as his for the sake of her reputation. Meanwhile, my child turns into a bastard whose father is unknown. "Yvie has always been obedient—getting pregnant out of wedlock is too cruel a fate for her. She won't be able to accept the criticism and mockery." His simple explanation turns our five-year relationship into a joke. Later, my family bring me to the hospital for an abortion. Caleb stays by Yvette's side, caring for her like she's a precious treasure. By the time he gets home, I've already aborted the baby and left him.

The Moretti Family's Thanksgiving party was in full swing downstairs—crystal clinks, fake laughs, classic mafia gloss. Meanwhile, I was curled up in a servant's room on the third floor. Jackson Moretti's wife. Legally, anyway. My hands were ice. I gripped the ultrasound report like it could anchor me. Three heartbeats. Strong, steady. It was supposed to be a surprise—his big Thanksgiving gift. To the outside world, Jackson was a polished Stanford grad, running a top-tier consulting firm in San Francisco. But behind the scenes? He ran the Moretti empire—cold, calculated, pulling strings in the West Coast's darkest corners. Three years of marriage and we barely spoke, but I still clung to the hope that maybe... maybe there was something real left. Then I heard him downstairs. "You really not letting your wife come down?" "Isabella?" He laughed. "She'd kill the vibe." Another voice chimed in. "Lina's back, right? Wild you married her twin. Which one do you actually like?" Jackson didn't miss a beat. "Isabella's just a stand-in. Quiet. Predictable. I could tell her to drop dead and she'd say 'okay.'" "So when are you ditching her?" "Dunno. She thinks she matters. I'm just playing her." I slapped a hand over my mouth to muffle the sob. A minute later, I was heading downstairs, numb. I brushed my fingers over my belly. "Sorry, babies," I whispered. Triplets. His. He thought I was blind. Weak. Stuck. What he didn't know? A quiet woman, once she snaps—she can burn it all down.