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The seventh time Dante Moretti served me divorce papers, I was sitting with my son in a cheap diner on Chicago's South Side. I forced a smile and brushed my hand over my son's hair. "Just wait a little longer, sweetheart. This time, Mommy will get custody of you." He stayed quiet for a long moment. Then he looked up and asked, “Mommy, how much do you need to sell me for before you're happy?” Before I could answer, he pulled a handwritten divorce agreement from his backpack and pushed it toward me. "I know you keep fighting Dad for me because you want more money from him." "I wrote the agreement for him. Please sign it. Dad is already tired. Stop making his life so hard." His handwriting was crooked, but every word had been written with care. Dante would give me three million dollars. At the bottom, in my son's childish scrawl, was one more line. [After you take the money, don't bother me, Dad, and Serena anymore. Let us be happy.] Serena was Dante's childhood sweetheart. The woman he trusted more than his own wife. For five years, I had stood against Dante's family, his lawyers, and half the Chicago underworld just to keep custody of my son. For him, I would've walked away with nothing. But the child I had raised for eight years had already chosen another mother. So why shouldn't I give their perfect little family exactly what they wanted?

“We signed the divorce papers six months ago. Tonight I’m wearing the lingerie he bought me on our honeymoon…and I’m not leaving his penthouse until he remembers why he put a ring on it.” Lila Grant never begged,not when Ethan built his empire on her late-night sketches. Not when he shut her out with silence colder than the marble floors of their Manhattan tomb. Not when she scrawled her signature on the line that severed them. But six months of celibate nights and whiskey-soaked memories have carved her hollow. One look at him across a crowded gala with his new fiancée draped on his arm like a cheap trophy and something primal snaps inside her. She kisses him in front of the cameras. Claims the mouth that once whispered mine against her throat and then she issues the ultimatum that detonates their carefully buried war: Thirty nights. His Hamptons fortress. One bed. No safe words. No surrender. If either of them says the word divorce, the other walks away with everything,money, pride, the last shred of sanity. Ethan never lost until Lila walks back in wearing red silk and the scent of ruin. What begins as a vicious game of who-blinks-first spirals into something darker. Jealousy that tastes like blood on the tongue. Sex that leaves bruises shaped like vows. He wants to punish her for leaving. She wants to burn the memory of his touch out of her skin. Both get exactly what they came for,until the one thing neither planned explodes between them: She’s pregnant. And the man who swore he’d never beg is on his knees

After the evening study session, I was just about to return to the dorm when my first boyfriend, the school's valedictorian and undisputed top student, suddenly tore across the courtyard toward me. Before I could react, he grabbed my wrist and, in full view of a crowd of stunned students, dragged me into a frantic run toward the front gates. I exclaimed, "Julian, have you lost your mind? Graduation's six months away. Are you really trying to run off with me now?" I struggled the whole way, twisting and pulling against him, but his grip never loosened. "Autumn, don't ask any questions. Just come with me. Hurry!" he said, his voice trembling with panic. We fled the school, jumped into a taxi in the middle of the night, and rushed to another city, where we checked into a rundown budget motel. Arms folded and brow furrowed, I glared at him. "So you hauled me out of school like a lunatic just to hole up in a cheap motel?" His cheeks turned bright red. He flailed his hands in frantic denial, then thrust a phone into my hands. I barely had time to unlock the phone and start dialing my parents before a breaking news alert flashed across the screen. My eyes locked on the screen, and I went rigid with shock. The headline reported, 'Mass Death at Blackwood High: All 5,000 students and faculty found dead last night after experiencing catastrophic bleeding. Only two students who skipped the study session survived.' I looked up at Julian in horror. He was staring at the screen too, his face white as paper, cold sweat running down his forehead. "You knew, didn't you?" I asked. "What the hell is going on?"

She dragged a bleeding stranger off the streets of East London when she was twelve years old. She cleaned his wounds, fed him cheap soup, and told him to stop acting like royalty before she threw him back outside. By morning, he was gone without a trace. She forgot about him. He never forgot about her. Eirlys Whitmore grew up learning how to survive on scholarship money, secondhand coats, and stubbornness alone. Brilliant and emotionally guarded, she has spent her entire life keeping people at a careful distance. When she earns early acceptance into the prestigious Blackthorn Dominion University at sixteen, she believes it is purely the result of her own hard work. She has no idea the Crown Alpha of the Virellion Dominion pulled every string to put her there. Kaevrix Noctharis Virellion is not supposed to exist in her world. He is ancient, powerful, and feared across an entire supernatural dominion that hides itself beneath human society. He rejected five fated mates, abandoned royal duties, and spent years quietly watching over a human girl from London shadows she never noticed. To everyone else, he is untouchable. But something about her sharp mouth and complete indifference to danger broke through every wall he was raised to build. When he enrolls beside her under a false identity as a calm, glasses-wearing student named Kae, she has no reason to suspect anything. He is simply the quiet, slightly unnerving boy who always sits too close. She has no idea he has already decided she belongs to him. And he has no idea she is the one person alive who will refuse to let him get away with it.

After I lost the baby, I gave up everything my mate, Alpha Rhydian, hated. I stopped using our bond to sense where he was. I could sleep soundly even when he didn't come back to our bedroom all night. I didn't even tell him when a rogue's silver blade sliced my arm during a border skirmish. The pack doctor told me to notify my family. I just answered calmly, "I don't have a family." The doctor recognized me. "You're the Luna. Alpha Rhydian is at headquarters. Should I inform him?" I shook my head gently. "No, don't." But half an hour later, Rhydian came anyway. His tall frame cast a shadow over me, his voice ice-cold. "You're hurt. Why didn't you call me through the mind link?" I lowered my eyes. "It's just a scratch. No need to bother the Alpha." A low growl rumbled in his chest. The air crackled with his fury. He was about to speak when a guard whispered outside the door, "The Alpha cares so much for Isla. She just pricked her finger on a rose thorn, and he gave her the pack's most precious moonlight herb." I saw his jaw clench. His gray-blue eyes shot to me, searching for the jealous rage I always used to show. I gave him nothing. Not even a blink. I just leaned back against the cheap hospital pillows and closed my eyes. But Rhydian's composure finally shattered.

On the day my older brother, Morgan Slater, is supposed to register his marriage with Savannah Reed, he doesn't show up at the city hall at all. Instead, he calls me, who's there to hype up the atmosphere as the best man. "Savannah is a fake heiress. She's even poorer than me now. Why would I marry her?" After ending the call, I see two comments floating in front of me all of a sudden. [Morgan really is stupid! The paternity test has it all wrong! Savannah is the real deal!] [He has already reached the marriage stage! I can't believe he actually lets the real heiress slip through his fingers just like that!] I instantly turn around to see Savannah standing in a corner on her own. Despite having gotten kicked out of the Reed family, the cheap dress does little to conceal her charm. After giving it some thought, I approach her, knowing full well that I resemble Morgan a lot when it comes to my looks. "Sorry, but Morgan won't be coming today," I say bluntly. Savannah seems to have expected that outcome. All she does is hum in response. "My family has wronged you this time. If you don't mind, is it okay if I marry you instead?" Savannah narrows her eyes at me. Her gaze flits over my face, which is similar to Morgan's. Morgan spends the day looking for another rich woman to marry. As for me, I've already registered my marriage with Savannah and become the official son-in-law of the Reeds.

He was infamous for changing women like they are clothes, trying them on for a day and once he lost interest, be will throw it away. However, you can only count in one hand the women he loved. Precisely one. His first love, first pain and first and last heartbreak. While he had never fucked anyone, almost but not quite, until he met Luna. For him, love is a waste of time, women isn't a necessity and they only want him for his wealth, looks and power. They never wanted who he truly is and it's absolutely fine. Alas, when someone drugged him and ended up rolling in the bed with a woman he thought was paid to fool him, he was enraged. But the first thing the woman demanded wasn't to marry her, instead, she wanted him to stay away after the one undeniably satisfying night he ever had. Soon he learned that she was not a cheap woman, but the illegitimate daughter of a powerful family and people wanted to get rid of her. It was no secret that the last woman who tried to climb on his bed almost died and so no one dared to do it again. He was a tyrant and had a licentious behavior but it didn't mean he was stupid. Thinking of a way to solve his problems, he straight up went to her and proposed a contract. He was rejected at first but soon after being reasonable, they reached to an agreement. It was a huge surprise when the hot tyrant and the licentious rake announced his marriage. But it was all just the beginning. They never had an idea that a simple deal would change everything and she had never believed that she could reform the hottest rake alive. TBC

My fiancé Julian owed $50 million in gambling debts. He and my best friend Chloe drugged me. They sold me to an underground casino in New York. I woke up in a cell. I stared through the iron bars at the man I had loved for five years. My heart broke. Julian thought I would still fight back. He sneered at me through the bars. "Save it. No more tricks. I owe Don Victor $50 million. You’re my only way out." "Victor loves breaking stuck-up artists like you. You think you're so high and mighty? Crawl into his bed and beg. Let's see how he rips off your cheap lace!" "Once he's done breaking you, Chloe and I will get married. We’ll take over your gallery. It’s perfect!" The drugs still clouded my brain. My body went limp. I collapsed on the dirty floor. Tears rolled down my cheeks. Five years of pure devotion. This was my reward. Absolute betrayal. But they didn't know the truth. They didn't know Don Victor. The ruthless tyrant. The mafia boss who ruled the American underworld. He was my father. Ever since my mother died, my father guarded me like fragile glass. He was terrified the world would leave even a single scratch on me. Now, Julian was serving me up like a piece of meat. To please my own father. If he knew I was the one in this cage... Soon, the entire New York underworld would face the Don's absolute fury.

Bryson POV Blackridge University was already a nightmare before I dumped hot coffee all over Julian Hayes. He's tall, built, with this perfect smirk that makes me want to punch him. Captain of the hockey team and the biggest asshole I've ever met. He destroyed me in front of everyone. Made sure I knew exactly where I stood. But then I joined the hockey team to make my mom happy, and suddenly everything changed. I could actually play. And Julian? He started looking at me like he wanted to destroy me in a whole different way. Now every practice feels like war. Every time we're alone in the locker room, I can barely breathe. I hate him. I want him. And I'm pretty sure he knows it. Julian's POV I run Blackridge University. Team captain, golden boy, everyone wants to be me or be with me. Then some transfer kid crashes into me and ruins my shirt. Bryson Miller. Smart mouth, cheap clothes, and eyes that look at me like he's not impressed. I should've crushed him and moved on. But the little shit joined my hockey team and turned out to be good. Really good. Now I can't get him out of my head. Every practice, every fight we have feels like something else entirely. Something I don't want to think about. I thought that was complicated enough. Then I walk into my house tonight and find Bryson unpacking boxes in my living room..

My sister, Bella, had a baby in a back-alley shithole. Then she disappeared. A midwife tracked me down using an address Bella left behind. She shoved the newborn at me like a sack of garbage. My parents fell to their knees. Crying. Begging me to take her bastard. Just like that, my future as a promising artist was gone. The neighbors, the priest, my landlord… they all called me a whore. A sinner who had disgraced God. They ran me out of the neighborhood . My life was over. Eighteen years later, Bella waltzed back into my life. A cheap thug with a fake Rolex dangled from her arm. She held my son, crocodile tears streaming down her face. She called me jealous. Accused me of stealing her flesh and blood. Of keeping a mother from her child. And my son? The one I bled myself dry for? The son I poured every last cent into, turning him into a brilliant painter? The son I starved for, so much that I ended up in a hospital bed? The moment he saw his "real" mother, he cast me aside without a second thought. "You pathetic, broke bitch!" he spat. "You stole everything from us! All the happiness that was supposed to be ours!" My parents threw me out like a dog. Bella's thug husband had his men corner me in the red-light district. They pinned me against a wall, their threats vile and clear: Never come back. I had no way out. I threw myself off the Brooklyn Bridge. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. Eighteen years in the past. Then came the knock. Hell had found my door. I wasn’t going to be the fool who gave everything and got nothing. This time, I took control.