White Angels Have No Wings

Llevaba seis años casada en secreto con mi esposo, Mateo Díaz, el CEO de la empresa. Pero en todo ese tiempo, él nunca permitió que nuestro hijo lo llamara "papá". La gota que derramó el vaso fue cuando, una vez más, faltó al cumpleaños de nuestro hijo por con su secretaria, Silvia Vega. Finalmente, saqué el acuerdo de divorcio que llevaba tiempo preparando y me fui para siempre con mi hijo. Aquel hombre siempre tan sereno perdió el control por completo, irrumpiendo en la oficina como un loco para preguntar por mi paradero. Pero esta vez, mi hijo y yo ya no miraríamos atrás.

In college, Elara Hayes was invisible, a quiet wallflower, mocked and overlooked. One drunken night, she made the mistake of sleeping with the golden boy, Leonard Shaw. By morning, he denied it, mocked her, and turned the entire campus against her. She left, broken and disgraced. Years later, Elara is no longer the girl he humiliated. She's now the face behind a rising fashion empire, cloaked in elegance, success, and unshakable poise. When fate brings Leonard back into her life at a prestigious award ceremony, he doesn't recognize the woman he once destroyed. But she remembers everything. And this time, she’s not here to be ignored, she’s here to rewrite the story. On her terms.

It's not what you think. Two social worlds collide with words, feelings, behaviours and ideas most unexpected to bring an even more unpredictable end. Lacey Atkins leaves school for a tear and comes back wanting nothing more than to be left alone. Alone in a classroom, Tom Wade sees Lacey and soon comes to want nothing more than to be with her. Her weird and unusual ways all make him the more curious and drawn in.

The day before New Year's, my younger brother announced he was bringing his girlfriend home for dinner. Excited, I drove my new car to pick them up, taking my daughter along with me. However, as soon as his girlfriend got in the car, her face darkened. "Henry, you didn't tell me your sister was staying at your place—and with a kid!" she snapped. I frowned and was about to explain when my brother quickly interjected, "She's not staying. After dropping us off, she'll be heading to a hotel." Only then did his girlfriend's expression ease. I swallowed my discomfort and asked my brother what he was planning. He leaned in with a conspiratorial grin and said, "Sis, don't cause any trouble for me, okay? My girlfriend is the daughter of the Cromwell Group's CEO!" My eyes widened in shock. Was not the Cromwell Group the same company my ex-husband had just handed over to me as part of our divorce settlement?

Lavish London mansions. A hand-painted Rolls-Royce. And eight dead friends. For the British fixer Robbie Chase, working for the Russian's President most vocal critic meant stunning perks – but also constant danger. His gruesome death is one of 14 that retired British Agent QUINTUS NOONE has linked to Russia – but the UK police shut down every last case. QUINTUS NOONE'S investigation reveals the full story of a ring of death on British soil that the government has ignored.

Everyone in the social circle of Kingsford said I was nothing more than a lapdog raised by Charles Mankin. I was always at his beck and call. I did every filthy, ludicrous thing for him under the sun. When he street raced, I rode shotgun. When he drank himself senseless, I made him hangover soup. When he chased girls, I prepared protection for them. Over time, everyone knew: Charles had a dog who never ran, never bit back, no matter how hard he kicked. They all said I must be madly in love with him. Even Charles started to believe it. So he pushed further, more freely, more cruelly, crossing lines as if they never existed. Then came my twenty-fifth birthday. He, in a rare stroke of mercy, said he'd celebrate it with me. But instead, what he got was the news that I was leaving the country. He went berserk, charging through the airport like a man possessed. I peeled his fingers off my wrist one by one, smiling like I'd never been happier. "Don't be stupid," I told him, still smiling. "That was never love." That night, Charles smashed apart his family home like a rabid dog.

Isla Hart gave up her dreams for love. But when love gave up on her, she had no choice but to fight for herself. After marrying the man she thought was her first, and forever, love, she gave up everything: her career, her family, her identity. For six years, she lived quietly as a devoted wife and mother, convinced that her sacrifices were for a greater good. Until the day he whispered another woman’s name under anesthesia. Until the woman showed up, pregnant with twins, claiming to be the real love of his life. Humiliated, heartbroken, and called unworthy by her husband’s family, she takes her three-year-old daughter and walks into a stormy night with nothing but a suitcase, a broken heart, and a single phone number to call. But rock bottom is where her story truly begins. With the help of an old friend, and a man she never saw coming, she’ll find the courage to start over, the strength to stand tall, and the power to prove that she is, and always was, more than enough. A story of betrayal, resilience, and second chances in love, Unworthy No More is a heart-tugging journey from silent suffering to radiant strength.

When desire knows no boundaries, every moment counts. Untamed Desire brings you a collection of provocative short stories exploring forbidden touches, secret cravings, and unexpected connections. From strangers trapped in a storm to tangled love triangles and power plays, these tales explore lust and longing in all their raw, intoxicating forms. Each chapter is a standalone story—perfect for quick, sultry reads that ignite your imagination and leave you wanting more.

They say Don Julian Marconi would burn the world for one tear of mine. Five years ago, at the Met Gala, he spent millions to hang emeralds around my neck and swore I was his Madonna. Five years later, beneath the velvet boxes of our anniversary, I found a lace strap soaked in sin—and a fresh, crimson smear on his collar that told me exactly whose bed he’d left. I smiled. I asked him to sign a blank sheet of paper. And that meant he was agreeing to whatever I wanted. He called it love. I called it the death warrant for his empire. In fifteen days, I finalized our divorce papers. I boarded the Stella d’Oro as Serena Cole and burned Celeste Marconi to ash on the deck. Then I vanished with his fortune, his power and the one secret that would destroy him. I was the saint he worshipped. Now I am the ghost who haunts him. No groveling. No forgiveness. No second chance. Just ashes.

On the night of our wedding, my husband told me he wanted to have a child with his teacher’s daughter. When I confronted him, he turned it back on me. “Teacher is seriously ill, and her only wish is to see three generations under one roof. My junior and I are just doing IVF. It’s not like anything is actually happening between us!” “Besides, you were also her student. How could you refuse to help fulfill her last wish?” However, the next day, when I went to visit our teacher with a fruit basket, I saw my husband and his junior locked in an embrace at the corner of the hallway. The moment was like a bolt of lightning. I turned and walked away. The following day, my husband sent me a text: [I’m going with her for the IVF. Let’s postpone the family gathering for a few days.] I did not reply. Instead, I went back to my hometown alone, visiting each of my relatives to personally apologize. Then, I went to a lawyer. “I’d like to sue my husband for bigamy.”