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While negotiating the terms of a project, a client pressured me into downing a large glass of liquor. While I was washing my face in the restroom, I saw my younger sister’s latest Instagram post. [Low salary? What of it? My parents will always support me!] Above the caption was a photo of a property deed with her name on it, along with a message from our parents. [Mom and Dad will always be your safety net!] It was in a newly developed residential complex. It was also the very neighborhood I had been desperately saving up for a downpayment to buy a home in. At that moment, a torrent of complex emotions washed over me. I splashed my face with water. After clearing my head, I sent a message to my manager, Mr. Jenkins. [I’m willing to take on that overseas project you mentioned.]

🔞 Mature Content Disclaimer This story contains explicit adult themes, including sexual content, power imbalance, emotional manipulation, possessiveness, and mature language. Intended for readers 18+ only. The alpha kissed me like he hated how much he wanted me. His mouth claimed mine with violence, shattering the one rule we had agreed on. No kissing. No feelings. Just breeding. “Don’t fall in love with me, Lisa,” he warned, his voice rough against my skin. I laughed, breathless and bitter. I knew exactly what I was to him. A contract. A body. A means to an heir. Something he could use and discard while returning to the mate he truly belonged to. This was never meant to be about love. But his touch rewrote my resolve, and the closer I got to giving him what he wanted, the more I realized the real danger wasn’t pregnancy. It was what would be left of me when this ended.

My fiancé is one of the country's top neurosurgeons. One day, he discovers that his childhood sweetheart has been diagnosed with cancer and only has a month to live. He wants to spend this time with her, so he feeds me a newly developed memory-wiping drug to make me forget him for a month. During that time, he throws his childhood sweetheart a wedding and goes on a honeymoon with her. As they stand amid an ocean of flowers, they vow to be together in another lifetime. One month later, he kneels before me in the rain. Tears stream down his face as he says hoarsely, "The drug's effects were only supposed to last for a month. Why have you permanently forgotten me?"

"Luna, the surgery to remove the Alpha’s mark is excruciating. After that, you’ll be treated as a packless Rogue. Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this?" "Yes. I want to be a Rogue." The black market healer was utterly astonished. The entire werewolf world believed Alpha Ethan was head over heels in love with me. Just days ago, he'd spent a hundred million gold coins to buy me 'Moonlight Manor,' filling it with my favorite moonflowers. Countless she-wolves dreamed of being marked by such a passionate and powerful Alpha. But I didn't hesitate. After removing the mark, I printed out a Mate Bond Severance Agreement and booked a flight to the European pack a week later. Goodbye, Ethan.

One heartbreak. Too much wine. And a one-night stand with one of the most dangerous men in Sicily. Ada’s anniversary vacation was supposed to be a romantic dream. Instead, it’s a living nightmare. When her boyfriend’s "best friend" crashes their trip, Ada trades her heartbreak for a lot of wine and a messy, public breakup. She’s ready to be the "psycho ex." She isn’t ready to stumble into the arms of a man who looks like a god and kisses like a sinner. Dario is dark, tattooed, and—unbeknownst to Ada—part of the Italian Mafia empire. He’s also been drugged, sent into a predatory haze that only Ada’s fiery spirit and curvy silhouette can soothe. Their night is a blur of desperate heat and hungover promises, but by morning, Ada is gone, leaving only a "walk of shame" and a very confused heart behind. But in the Mafia, you don’t just walk away from a Made Man. Dario woke up with a clearer head and a singular obsession: finding the woman who "serviced" him while he was at his most vulnerable. He thinks she was part of the setup. He thinks she’s a spy. But the more he tracks her, the more he realizes she’s just a heartbroken woman drowning her sorrows in the Mediterranean. Now, the "trouble in paradise" is just beginning. Dario doesn't care about her ex-boyfriend, her flight home, or her plans for the future. He’s decided she belongs to him, and in his world, what the Mafia claims, the Mafia keeps. Ada wanted a vacation to remember. Now, she’ll be lucky if he ever lets her leave.

My boyfriend's childhood friend, Cassandra Lindth, performs one of the forbidden spells, trading 30 years of her own life just to steal the top spot on the civil service exam from me. She pulls off a 30-day miracle and becomes an internet sensation, her comeback going viral. Meanwhile, I take the fall, get reported for cheating, and am banned from ever taking the exam again. I turn to my boyfriend, Derrick Hayes, for help, but the look he gives me spells pure disbelief. "Have you completely lost it? You couldn't pass on your own, and now you're trying to drag Cassandra's name through the mud? I never imagined you'd stoop this low!" I am speechless, with no way to prove my innocence. Cassandra sues me for defamation, and Derrick shows up in court to testify against me. I have studied for three years straight, and it ends with a three-year prison sentence. My parents are disappointed with me. They go so far as to publish their statement in the newspapers, publicly shaming me. Derrick and Cassandra announce their wedding online and are set to dive into their new jobs as soon as the honeymoon wraps up. With no way to clear my name, I spiral into despair. Disoriented and numb, I fall into the river and drown. When I open my eyes again, I am back to the week before the civil service exam. I toss my exam ticket in the trash and sign up for a three-month temp gig instead. If Cassandra is dumb enough to trade 30 years of her life for my spot, she can have it and choke on it!

Nicolas Navarro me pediu em casamento sessenta e seis vezes em sessenta e seis viagens diferentes. Na sexagésima sétima, meu coração finalmente cedeu. No dia seguinte ao casamento, entreguei a ele sessenta e seis cartões de perdão. Um acordo silencioso: toda vez que ele me irritasse, poderia usar um para ser perdoado. Seis anos se passaram. Toda vez que a amiga de infância dele entrava entre nós, um cartão desaparecia. Quando restavam apenas dois, Nicolas finalmente notou. E era tarde demais para fingir que nada havia mudado.

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Depois de renascer. A primeira coisa que eu e minha irmã fizemos foi trocar de casamento. Na vida passada. Eu e minha irmã, Leticia Coelho, nos casamos no mesmo dia. Ela, gentil e recatada, casou-se com o general da Marinha, Marcos Falcão, frio e distante. Por Marcos ter perdido o aniversário de casamento para acompanhar o aniversário da sua primeira paixão, ela quis uma explicação. Ele, porém, afirmou estar de consciência tranquila, e assim os dois entraram numa guerra fria que durou cinquenta anos. Já eu, de temperamento explosivo, do tipo que prefere agir a discutir, acabei casada com o contador de uma fábrica mecânica. O contador era calmo e vivia reclamando que eu falava alto demais e não sabia me arrumar. A cada três dias era uma discussão pequena; a cada cinco, uma briga grande. No fim, brigávamos tanto que ele acabou simplesmente não voltando mais para casa. Em menos de um ano de casamento, nos divorciamos. Ao abrir os olhos novamente, eu e Leticia voltamos ao dia em que nos casamos juntas...