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[WARNING: SMUTTY PARANORMAL ROMANCE WITH AN OBSESSIVE, POSSESSIVE WOLF/LYCAN SHIFTER. DETAILED SMUT AND VIOLENCE.] A billionaire with a dark secret. A prophecy that could change everything. And a bond that could be her salvation… or her doom. Maci Carter didn’t ask for this. She left her small-town life behind to start fresh in the city, free from her past, free from anyone telling her what she can’t do. But fate has other plans. When she crosses paths with Thorne Wintermere, the enigmatic CEO of Wintermerre & Co., Maci’s life takes a terrifying, thrilling twist. Thorne isn’t just any billionaire. He’s a powerful, untouchable alpha, a rare werewolf-lycan hybrid hiding in plain sight without a pack. Known as the ruthless leader of a hidden supernatural council, Thorne has spent his life protecting his family’s legacy and keeping his world’s secrets…until her. As dark forces close in, she begins to uncover her own secrets, powers that have lain dormant within her for years, powers tied to a father she barely remembers and a world she never knew. As Maci and Thorne are pulled closer by an undeniable, electric bond, their connection could tip the scales of an ancient power struggle, or end in ruin. Will Maci embrace her destiny, or will she walk away, leaving Thorne and the supernatural world in chaos? Fans of intense, edge-of-your-seat romance won’t be able to resist The Alpha Billionaire's Secrets. Where passion and power collide, and one choice could change everything.

The night before my wedding, I caught my fiance, Liam, in bed with my best friend. That really sucked. So, as revenge, I slept with Liam’s boss, Jethro.After getting pregnant with Jethro’s child, I coerced him into taking me as his wife. Alas, life as a trophy wife wasn’t as expected. I decided to call it quits, but Jethro squashed that thought and declared, “Serena Hart, you are mine. Forever.”

Falling for the school's star goalie was never the plan... especially when my father is the principal who just banned him from the ice. But getting caught in a scandal with the boy I'm supposed to 'fix'? That's more than a catastrophe; it's a death sentence. Aria Bennett is a top student with perfect grades but no social life. She is assigned to tutor the school's newest transfer student, Jason Monroe. However, Jason is consistently late to their sessions, cocky, and resistant to being told what to do. Aria just wants to get the tutoring over with. Things take a turn when she discovers that Jason is on academic probation and risks losing his spot as the goalie on the hockey team. This revelation softens Aria's perspective on him. As their late-night tutoring sessions become a regular occurrence, Aria starts to see the vulnerabilities behind Jason's tough exterior. Meanwhile, Jason never intended to develop feelings for the girl who dresses in oversized hoodies and carries notebooks. Yet, somehow, Aria is getting under his skin and possibly into his heart. "Does Daddy know you're at a party full of hot hockey players and drinking beer?" "Leave me alone," I spat. Jason grinned slyly and leaned in closer. "You know I heard you dressed up thinking you were going on a date, and the guy turned out to be gay." In a drunken stumble, Jason stepped too close and fell on top of me. Jason's eyes fluttered open slightly as he cupped my face. I froze. His hands were warm against my skin, but rational thought fled me. He gave me a look that screamed trouble. And just as I suspected, he leaned in and kissed my lips. My brain had completely shut down. It was my first kiss.

Nicholas Hunt loves testing me a lot. When I just graduated from university, he tried to make me take on a five-million-dollar house mortgage. After I turned him down, Nicholas was quick to buy Yvonne Myers, the campus belle, a villa that was worth eight million dollars. It was even paid in full. As he held the property deed, he told me, "The truth is, I'm super rich. I've been pretending to be poor just so I can test your integrity. "It's a shame that you never passed my test. I'm very disappointed in you, Elizabeth. Let's break up." I just smiled at him casually. Then, I walked away without hesitation. What a coincidence. I'm the daughter of the richest man in the country. I, too, had been pretending to be poor. Four years later, we bump into each other at the Fortune List Summit. At that time, Nicholas has just squeezed into the top 50 rank. He walks into the venue with Yvonne clinging to his arm. It's then he notices me. I'm wearing plain-looking clothes without any jewelry adorning me, and I happen to be holding a child. Thinking that I'm a nanny, Nicholas begins mocking me. "Wow, you really went all out just to steal one more glance at me, huh? I can't believe you're able to follow me all the way here. "You should learn to accept reality, though. I'm on the Fortune List, while you're working as someone else's nanny. The gap between us is far too wide, so you should stop dreaming already!" I just ignore Nicholas in favor of resenting my dad for making me attend this stupid event. After all, I've just managed to block out one full day just to spend time with my son, and yet I have to waste my precious time on this dumb event.

A month before the SATs, I, Jenny Reid, could see my score. Literally. It was just floating right above my head. But there was a catch. Every time I cracked open a prep book, my score would drop by ten points. But if I skipped a day of school? It jumped right back up by ten. So, I played the system. For a whole month, I barely lifted a finger. And on the day of the test, the number glowing over my head was a solid 1560. When the scores finally dropped online… I'd scored a 500. And the 1560? That was my little sister Patricia's score. My parents lost it. As punishment, they got me a grueling night-shift job at a local electronics factory. That first night, a bunch of guys I'd never seen before cornered me in the parking lot and beat me half to death. Fading in and out of consciousness, I heard my sister's voice right by my ear. "You just had to one-up me, didn't you? Thought you were so smart… but you never figured out I was the one controlling that number over your head." The truth hit me like a physical blow. The score had been her trick all along. I opened my eyes—and I was back. One month before the SATs. The number above my head read exactly 1300. "Hey," my sister said, all fake sweetness. "Want to study together tonight? We can go over the practice tests." I looked at the stack of papers in my own hands. Without a word, I pulled out my lighter and set them on fire right there in the driveway. "Exams are coming," I said, watching the flames. "I'm not studying." My score ticked up to 1310. My sister's face was this perfect mask of disappointment, but the second I turned away, I caught the sly smile she couldn't quite hide. She had no idea… the real performance, the one I'd been rehearsing just for her, was finally about to begin.

I have always had an almost pathological sense of paranoia. Ever since I was a child, I was convinced that the people around me were out to get me. Back in elementary school, when everyone was lining up for their student ID photos, I flatly refused to have mine taken. I insisted that the district office was going to use my picture for identity theft. The situation escalated so badly that the principal had to personally sit me down and spend half an hour trying to convince me otherwise. Then, there was the fingerprint registration system in middle school. The school required every student to submit their fingerprints to access the campus buildings. I was so terrified that someone would steal my biometric data that I literally rubbed the skin off all ten fingertips to make them unreadable. Even when my fingers were bleeding, I kept shouting that they were trying to steal my identity. I would rather climb over the school fence every day than cooperate. Every relative I had called me crazy. My parents were so fed up that they seriously considered having me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. I did not care. I guarded my privacy with obsessive determination, gritting my teeth and holding my ground all the way up to the eve of the final exams. Then came the day before the exam. That afternoon, our homeroom teacher, Tracy Collins, walked into the classroom carrying a metal lockbox. A warm, motherly smile spread across her face as she set it down on the desk. "Everyone," she said, "to make sure nobody forgets their documents tomorrow, I'd like you to hand over your IDs and exam admission slips for safekeeping tonight." She patted the lockbox reassuringly. "Tomorrow morning, I'll personally return them to each of you outside the testing center. This way, there's absolutely nothing that can go wrong." The class was deeply moved by her thoughtfulness. Some students even looked close to tears as they eagerly pulled out their documents and lined up to hand them over. Everyone except me. My hand clamped down over my pocket so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Cold sweat poured down my back. A sharp alarm bell was ringing in my head. Trying not to attract attention, I fished out a spare flip phone from my bag, ducked beneath my desk, and dialed emergency services. As soon as the call connected, I lowered my voice and spoke into the receiver. "Hello. I'd like to report a crime. My name is Charles. "I believe a teacher at St. Alden High is working with an identity-fraud ring and is planning a large-scale operation tonight involving examination fraud and identity theft."