Where Can I Read The Millennium Wolves For Free Novels & Stories

At our wedding, my husband, Justin Garner, pushes me—three months pregnant—toward our enemies as an apology in order to save his foster sister, Clara Garner. "This is my sincerity. You can do whatever you want with her." I don't cry or make a scene. I quietly follow the enemies away. That's because in my previous life, I had traded all my wealth for freedom and returned to Justin's side. In the end, I was forced to drink drugs and lost my unborn baby, suffering for three days and nights. "Justin, those 'enemies' were people you hired to act, and Maxine didn't even lose her innocence. Why did you have to get rid of the baby?" Clara asks. Justin coldly laughs. "If you're acting, you have to make it look real." I died full of hatred. When I wake up again, I choose to let those people take me away. Three years later, when I arrive at a banquet on the arms of my new lover, Justin goes mad, grabbing me and demanding, "Maxine Preston, where is our child?"

On our fifth anniversary, Henry Judd—the guy who once swore he'd propose—rented out an entire mall for Cecilia Cheape's birthday. A diamond the size of a pigeon's egg sparkled on her finger. I'd been dumb enough to think it was meant for me. "Cece, I'm gonna give you a birthday you'll never forget," he announced, loud enough for the whole world to hear. Then he yanked the tab off a soda can and handed it to me. "Lulu, those gaudy things don't suit you. You deserve something unique." He slid the can tab onto my finger—his version of a proposal. Cecilia got the dream birthday. I got a piece of trash and a slap of reality. Later, when he found out I was marrying someone else, he got down on one knee with that same ring and begged me to say yes.

Parole is Shaw Carter’s final shot at freedom, and he doesn’t want to lose it. After a felony conviction nearly cost him everything, the path forward is narrow—keep his head down, stay out of trouble, and survive long enough to earn his life back. It would be an easy task if he wasn’t placed in the mayor’s custody, and is forced to share the same apartment with his son. Lucas Hale is everything Shaw should avoid. He’s sharp-tongued, infuriatingly composed, and far too comfortable pushing Shaw to his limits. From the very first night, it’s clear Lucas doesn’t want Shaw there. Every word that came out of Lucas' mouth was a provocation. Shaw tells himself it doesn’t matter. He can endure anything for a few months. But tension has a way of twisting. What starts as hostility quickly turns into something far more dangerous. Their fights grow closer and sharper, charged with something neither of them wants to name. Their moral lines blur. Control slips. And suddenly, the one thing Shaw can’t afford becomes the one thing he can’t stay away from. Because Lucas isn’t just getting under his skin, he’s unraveling him. But beneath the tension and the touching and everything neither of them will say out loud, Lucas is carrying a secret, one that doesn’t just connect him to Shaw’s past. It is Shaw’s past. And when the truth finally surfaces, Shaw will have to decide if the man he’s falling for is his salvation or the reason he never should have been free at all.

During their seven-year relationship, Claudia Maureen Tiongco thought that Preston would be her husband, that he would fulfill her dream of becoming a wife but she was disappointed. Unexpectedly, Preston's attitude towards her changed especially when she met Penelope, his assistant. Claudia tried to understand everything, even seeing the two happy was something she endured because of her deep love for Preston. Every time she saw Preston treating Penelope well, it hurt her so much. But not everything ended there. Claudia saw that leaving Preston and moving to his rival company was a good opportunity to start a new lifestyle but she's wrong. Preston followed her wherever she went and forced her to pursue him again. Will her heart remain hard or will she let him be imprisoned by lies again?

I hadn't seen my mafia husband, Luca Moretti, and our daughter Dora in three whole months. Why? Because his mother, Fiona, said Dora should stay with her "for a while." And Luca? He was "too busy with business," as always. So when Luca finally called and said he was going to pick me up for a family reunion at the villa, I was overjoyed. I thought maybe, just maybe, I'd finally get to hold my little girl again. I spent the whole damn day running around the city, buying her favorite dolls, snacks, a new pink dress, anything I thought would make her smile at me again. But when the car arrived, it wasn't what I imagined. Before I could even say Hi, Dora turned her head, took one look at me… and then wrapped her arms even tighter around Maria, the maid. She buried her face in Maria's neck like I wasn't even there. Like Maria was her mom. I tried to approach her, but Dora straight-up told me she didn't want to ride in the same car as me. And Maria, wearing that fake, polite smile, kept trying to gently talk me into giving Dora "a little more time." I looked over at Luca, hoping he'd step in. Instead, he just looked annoyed, like he couldn't be bothered to lift a finger to help fix things between me and our daughter. Clearly, they didn't want me there. So what was the point of trying to join the ride? I stepped back from the SUV. Then Luca just turned to me and said, "Just wait here. I won't be long." What he'll never understand is… I'm done waiting for him.

We were on our way to celebrate our son’s birthday when we got into a car crash. When I woke up, I looked at my family gathered around my hospital bed and cracked a joke: “Sorry, but who are you guys?” I held back a smile, curious to see how they'd humor their "amnesiac" patient. Would my mother grab my hand in a panic? Would my husband look at me with worry? Would my son rush over, crying and calling me Mom? What I didn't expect was for them to freeze for a moment—and then, almost in unison, let out sighs of relief. My mother was the first to speak, her tone unmistakably lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted. "If you don’t remember, it’s probably for the best. This is Lindsay—your sister, she’s my daughter. You were adopted." My husband then pointed at me and said to our son, "You should call her Aunt Wendy." Before the shock could even sink in, I watched the child I'd fought so hard to protect turn and throw himself into the arms of Lindsay. "Mom! I played outside all day. I missed you so much!" So that was the truth. My amnesia was exactly what they'd been hoping for. In that case, I didn't need this made-up life anymore.

"Spread your legs for me, Celeste." His voice was dark silk and hot sin pressed against my ear. --- My husband was fucking my best friend behind my back for six months. Six months of roses. Six months of 'you are my everything' while he was making her moan his name. I trusted him with my whole heart. He handed it to her like a cheap gift. So when Dominic Ford showed up with rage in his eyes and proof in his hands, something in me snapped. And in that broken, dangerous place, a sinful idea was born. "An affair," I told him, meeting his gaze. "Real. Raw. Dirty. No strings. No limits. We give them exactly what they deserve." He studied me for a long, slow moment. Then he pulled me close, his lips brushing my neck as he whispered. "When do we start?" Dominic Ford touched me like he was trying to ruin me for every other man. He succeeded. He took me apart, piece by piece, night after night, until I was shaking and screaming and begging for more... and when morning came I was crawling back for everything he gave me the night before. This was supposed to hurt them. It was never supposed to feel this good. It was never supposed to feel like home. Now our cheating spouses are on their knees, right where we wanted them. But Dominic is looking at me like the plan just changed. And God help me, I don't want to walk away either. We agreed. No strings. No feelings. Just revenge. That was the deal. We lied. --- WARNING: This story contains explicit sexual content, graphic scenes, and two broken people who find each other in the most sinful way possible.

Late at night, my husband came home with a young model. "So, you are the washed-up wife that Mr. Dawson keeps at home?" The girl looked at me with a mocking smile and said. Jay Dawson, my husband, reeking of alcohol, glanced between us with interest. He then hugged the young girl and led her into the bedroom. I sat alone on the living room couch, wrapped in a blanket, and listened to their shameless noises all night. I endured it for two years. Our agreement had finally ended this year, and so had my love for Ethan. I walked away. But Ethan chased after me like a madman.

In our world, fathers sell their half-breed daughters to purebred wolves. If they don’t like you, they will resell you to someone else. And the one who turns out to be the chosen one is lucky, and she will be combined with the highest marriage. And others are destined to belong to the multitude... I was not sold; I gave myself up. Now the big bad red wolf is my master, and I am in his hands. But why does his rival look at me like I’m the juiciest piece of steak? Does he want to buy me out?

At the Costa family's annual capo banquet, Marco Costa declared the family would extend protection to one woman only: Rosa Frost, his childhood sweetheart, newly divorced and newly returned to the family fold. One by one, the other women slipped away into the night with their money, their dignity, and fresh protectors already lined up. I, Viola Rossi, once his Donna, was severed from the Costa family entirely, with nowhere left to go. Twenty-one years prior, The System ripped me into this life with a brutal mandate: make one of four made men fall irrevocably in love with me, and I'd earn my way back to my real life with a healthy body. I failed. Every single one of them chose Rosa. The system's final mercy: die here, go home. I stood in a rotting Brooklyn dock warehouse, gun in hand, and closed my eyes. Right as darkness closed in, a raw, raging scream of my name tore through the silence, like the man shouting would burn the whole world apart to reach me.