Would've

“Congratulations on your wedding! Although we must have missed our invite in the mail. We’d like to catch up with…” There’s no reason to keep reading the mail beyond that point. It’s a variation of the same kinds of mails I’ve been receiving since the wedding three weeks ago. I pause at the door to his study, sounds of a woman riding on throes of orgasms, filters through the open crack. What would people say if they saw a woman with her legs spread out, in between her legs, my husband of a few days, sliding in and out of her? He keeps his dark eyes on me, bringing his signature scotch to his lips. I can’t take this anymore. How could he do this?? How did I end up with a man like this?? “Get out of my house!” I snap, The woman shrieks, scrambling to cover herself up with pieces of clothing. I grit my teeth hard. “She’s my guest.” “Take your guests elsewhere. This is not a whorehouse.” I snap, gritting my teeth so hard it feels like my jaw would crack. “Would you do what they do?” “W-what?” He leans forward, I keep my eyes above his waistline, specifically on the middle of his forehead. “Would you, instead of them, suck my cock?” His accent makes the word sound even dirtier than usual. Isaac's family demanded a husband, he delivered and now his life is a mess. A marriage on paper, a disaster in practice. Isaac Valentine needed a husband, not for love. And he met the last man he would ever choose, Ivan Romanov. The deal is clean. Everyone wins. Until it isn't. After all, what's more dangerous than a marriage of convenience? Real feelings with an expiration date.

It started with a stolen wallet and turned into something neither of them could’ve imagined. What began as a game of cat and mouse has turned into something more. They're no longer just trying to outsmart each other; they’re going deeper, and it’s setting off sparks in all the wrong places. As they get closer, the truths they’ve kept hidden start to unwind, tearing through the lives they’ve built. The illusion of control slips away, and now, everything’s on the line — their lives, their secrets, and their hold on each other. The question is, can they survive it all — or will they destroy each other in the process?

MANAGING MAGES: Hawk had been tormenting me as long as I could remember. I was a young mage and my power was still growing. But they thrust me under his watch in the service to our Warlord. And damn him for enjoying every moment he can torment me. Every time I think my power strong enough to challenge him, he finds new ways to torture me. He's told me that I'm his little prey and he'll be kinder when I succumb to him but I've vowed to never let the overbearing, insufferable cad put a hand on my bare skin. It's a battle of wills and wits. He may be more clever but I'm certainly more stubborn! But one thing I've learned about Hawk, never underestimate his conniving...I should've known better than to challenge him. After all, he's made a name for himself by his skill in Managing Mages. But beyond him there is an even bigger problem. Warlord: The Commander of the Mage's Guild. A ruthless killer who leaves a dark mist in his wake. Escaping the Mage's Guild would mean challenging Warlord himself. A dangerous endeavor. WARLORD'S WARD He came into our village like a shadow. A Dark Mage with the most powerful magic in all the realm. King Detry merely calls him Warlord. And he owns that title. Leaving wreckage in his wake. But for me, he had other plans. His cutting blue eyes seeing straight through my disguise. As his slave, his mere plaything, I'll learn the true darkness of magic without conscience. Anything he wants of me, he takes. Anything he wants me to do. I am willed to do with the flick of his hand. His power is an all consuming whirlwind. And I'm just the pretty butterfly caught in it.

I was only eleven when my life changed. My parents were gone, and my innocence was taken away. I grew up in a world where danger wore a suit and love felt like power. I learned to guard myself. But nothing prepared me for him, Lorenzo Vitalio. He is my guardian’s stepbrother. He watched me grow up. He is the man I shouldn’t want. Yet he is the only one I do. He’s 32, and I’m 20. The age difference is wrong. The feelings? Right—so painfully right that it hurts. I’ve loved him for as long as I’ve known what love is. But to him, I was just the girl he had to protect, not the woman he could claim. So I did what any heartbroken girl would do—I pushed him away. I made him notice me. I broke rules, crossed boundaries, and opened up the cracks in both of us. Just when I thought I’d finally lost him, he came back. Now the question is, can love survive the burden of secrets, danger, and years of denial? Or am I doomed to suffer for a man who knows how to protect but not how to love? This is the story of Evelyn Rose and Lorenzo Vitalio. A love too forbidden to begin. Too deep to end. And far too reckless to ignore.

At nine months pregnant, I suffered an unexpected miscarriage. My husband, Graham Pearson, fought back his own grief as he comforted me. He would whisper to me every day, trying to soothe my shattered heart, "Whitney, we will have children again someday. Our little angel was here for a while, and next time, we'll make sure we hold onto them..." Under Graham's careful care, I slowly began to pull myself out of the numb fog I'd been trapped in. But then, a month later, I overheard him talking to one of his friends. "If Whitney finds out the baby didn't actually die and that you've let Cassidy raise him, don't you think she'll flip out? You've worked so hard to get where you are; you can't let this mess it all up." Graham casually flicked his cigarette, his voice almost detached as he waved a hand dismissively. "Cassidy can't have kids, but she loves children. If this baby brings her joy, it's a blessing for the child, too. "I might never get the chance to be with Cassidy, but letting her raise my son, in some way, feels like a kind of fulfillment..." The truth hit me like a frozen wave, paralyzing me in place. It turned out this whole ordeal had been part of Graham's plan from the start.

When my colleagues find out that I'm pretty good at cooking, they start organizing dinners at my place. Lucy Holt, one of the junior accountants, suggests that we split the groceries evenly between us. As a result, I don't think I can reject their request without being rude. On my last day of work, the group gathers at my place for one last meal. "You're such a good cook, Jess! We'll all be transferring you 500 dollars later. It's just a token of our appreciation," Lucy declares with a bright smile. But the very next day, she sends me a message. "Hey, Jess. You know it's illegal to operate an unlicensed catering business from your home, right? Your house will get sealed off for further investigation. More importantly, the value of goods has passed the threshold of 10,000 dollars, which means the fine you'll have to pay is probably going to be about 20 times that amount. "Since we worked together, we decided not to report you to the authorities. We'll just settle this matter privately. All you have to do is give us the fine you would've had to pay instead." This is how I realized that, combined with yesterday's meal, the total amount they've given me for groceries thus far is exactly 10,001 dollars.

My husband of five years turned out to be the long-lost heir of the Rhys mafia family. On the day he was brought back into the family, he took our son by the hand and walked toward a million-dollar luxury car with Isla, his childhood sweetheart. Then, frowning slightly, he said to me, “Hazel, I’m only taking Isla and our son with me. You stay here for now. Once I’ve secured my footing in the Rhys family, I’ll come back for you.” I nodded calmly and accepted his arrangement without protest. I knew that even if I forced my way back with him, it wouldn’t end well. In my previous life, I cried and insisted on going with him. Left with no choice, Sam brought me back to the family. However, it wasn’t long before Isla framed me, accusing me of leaking the Rhys mafia family's secrets. According to family rules, I was sentenced to death. When the verdict was carried out, my son shouted at me with reddened eyes. “I hate you! If you hadn’t insisted on coming back, I wouldn’t have had a traitor for a mother! I would’ve had a better mom a long time ago!” In that instant, my heart gave out. Reborn to the moment before my husband reclaimed his identity, I chose to let go without hesitation this time, no longer standing in the way of the happiness he and our son wanted.

Roan King. The uncrowned king of Barnett University. He's like a freaking celebrity around here. It's totally ridiculous. People, by which I mean grown women, actually stalk him on the internet. And around campus. Apparently he's god's gift to both football and the ladies (I'm using that term loosely). All he has to do is smile and girls just fall right onto their backs before spreading their legs nice and wide. I've heard that he's already plowed his way through half the female population here at Barnett. I'm sure he'll work his way through the second half before he gets drafted to the NFL later this year. Yeah... I don't plan to be one of them. The guy is nothing more than a conceited player. You know the type—a steroid infused meathead jock coasting through college on his football prowess. Ugh. I have three words for you—avoid, avoid, avoid. Need I say more? I don't think so. I've had the sad misfortune of running into him on campus. Literally. As in—I literally slammed into him before spilling my iced coffee drink all over that wide rippling chest of his (did I just say that?). What I learned from the experience is that Roan King is one hell of a cocky son of a— Ok Unfortunately for me, Operation Avoid-Roan-King isn't going so well. Everywhere I go, there he is. If he wasn't so ridiculously hot, he would be a hell of a lot easier to forget. With his dark hair, shocking turquoise colored eyes and (damn him) buff body, he's easily the most gorgeous guy I've ever laid eyes on. Crap... see what I mean? Why do I suddenly have the bad feeling that Roan King is going to lead to my utter ruin and downfall?

Who would have known that the awakening of a powerful goddess would be through the provocations of a young wolf? The girl was shocked and hesitated to ask, "W..why are you suddenly like...this?" "What do you mean Arya?" Amaris asked as his pretty fingers played with her locks while still keeping her trapped between his arms. "You are so..." "Different?" He completed the sentence for her to which she nodded in the affirmative. Sighing, his arms fell from the wall and wrapped around her waist to drag her close. As he gazed into the eyes that he fell in love with from day one, he lowered his head to peck her on those very chatty lips causing a gasp to escape. "I've always been like this. You were just too silly to see it." he said as he beheld her beauty. "I'm a possessive wolf Arya and I really don't like seeing you with goldie locks. Are we clear?" He asked, not giving her a chance to respond as he took her breath away in a hot searing kiss. Follow Arya as her simple life turns into the complete opposite following the appearance of the big bad wolf Amaris.

I've always thought that love is eternal. That is, until my Alpha, Alonso Austin—the heir of the Austin clan in Northside—leaves me at the altar of the mating ceremony I've spent ten years looking forward to for the sake of another pregnant Omega. Only then do I realize that he doesn't love me anymore for a very long time. Crushed by heartbreak, I keep withdrawing from Alonso and his lover. He thinks these are just tricks I've pulled for the sake of winning his favor. But the truth is, these are my final struggles before my impending death.