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He didn't stop when he reached her but leaned forward and kissed her hard, on the mouth. The air left her lungs. Maybe it was because it was her first kiss or because he had kissed her, she didn't know but her lungs were burning, her lips were on fire. She was one fire. It ended in a second. She stared at him with wide eyes as he stared back. His hand traced her forehead, nose, lips and then chin as it stopped on her throat. She knew, by God she knew he could feel her pulse, the heat on her cheeks. "I'm home." Dean Woodland left two years ago without a word or sound and now he is back to bring his belongings with him.

After five years of marrying into the Loween City in place of my sister, the Gambling King finally passed away. My son and my ex-husband—at long last—gave me permission to fake my death and return to them. But they laid down three conditions. First: kneel before Vivian Gray, apologize for framing her all those years ago, and surrender my place as Mrs. Hartwell. Second: work as a live-in maid for my own son for five years, and never show up at his school in my former identity as the reigning queen of the nightlife scene—lest I embarrass him. Third: drink an abortifacient to destroy my fertility forever, as recompense for the infertility I once caused Vivian. "My lady, you've endured five whole years just to earn your freedom—how dare they humiliate you like this?" My maid's eyes were red, burning with indignation on my behalf. But I just tipped my head back and swallowed the death-faking pill, letting the servants toss my "corpse" into the overgrown brambles beyond the city limits. Then, from the mud and weeds, I crawled back to the Hartwell mansion—one knee at a time. Day one, I knelt as ordered and signed over custody of my son without a fight. Day three, I locked myself in the storage closet and stopped showing up at school to pick my son up like I used to. I also stopped pestering him to call me "Mom." Even when Vivian—knowing full well I'm terrified of the dark—deliberately trapped me in the basement, I bore it in silence. By the time my ex-husband Nathan Hartwell saw me again, I was barely hanging on. For the first time, a flicker of panic crossed his face as he carried me out of that basement. But my son just sneered. "It's just another stunt to win our sympathy." When he caught the tears welling in Vivian's eyes, Nathan coldly dropped me to the ground. "Always scheming against Vivian with your dirty tricks—aren't you tired of it?" Right then, the system chimed in my ear: [Please proceed to the "disposable ex-wife death node" to complete the story line and return to your original world.] I let out a quiet laugh. "Not tired at all." And with that, I turned and dove straight into the swimming pool beside me.

The night she comes back from her best friend's apartment after finding out her boyfriend is married, she meets a huge man sleeping on the snow in her backyard. 23-year old Charlie Jordan doesn't know what to do. After so many calls and studying, she finds out the man—Blurin Jameson— is an ex-militant whose address got mixed up on deployment day. It takes Charlie 419 Days to realize how her heart beats faster when ever they're near or when his eyes lights up... Or how she completes his amount of ribs.

Rebecca was finally ready to start her life. She had just graduated from college, had a great at the hospital in the city, and a gorgeous apartment that was across the hall from her best friends. Everything was falling into place. When she goes out to celebrate and ends up drunker than she ever had been before, she is saved by the handsome and extremely Vincent, son of the Capo, who takes her home. What will happen when she wakes up alone the next day? Will this be the typical one-night stand?

They say society looks down on divorced women, especially those who are no longer “beautiful” in its eyes but Amara doesn’t care. After ten years of being the perfect wife, enduring whispers about her looks, the cruel jokes about her weight, and the constant reminders from her husband that she’s “not beautiful enough,” she’s done. Her husband not only cheats on her… he moves his pregnant mistress into their marital home and flaunts her like a prize. When Amara asks for a divorce, he vows to destroy her. Promising to make her life so miserable she’ll come crawling back. But he’s wrong because Amara would rather die than return to him. In her search for a way out, she crosses paths with Lucian Rostova. He's dangerous. Ruthless and filthy rich. Lucian offers her a deal: he’ll help her ruin her ex-husband and his mistress if she agrees to marry him for one year. With her back against the wall, Amara says yes. But deals with the devil always come with a price. Will Lucian truly protect her like he promises… or will he crush her and leave her bleeding out in the cold?

My wife cheats on me after five years of marriage. Standing at the doorway, I hear her whisper to her lover in a soft voice, "What are you afraid of? He's broke and pathetic. Do you think that he dares to divorce me?" I tighten my grip on the lottery ticket in my hand. I have just won 60 million dollars a moment ago. This time, I will see who is the broke and pathetic one!

Seraphine Vale is whisked away to Aetherborn Academy after a terrifying magical incident, she expects answers, not four dangerously captivating boys who seem unnervingly drawn to her. Alaric, the cold vampire noble. Kade, the brooding werewolf with eyes like storms. Damien, the charming dragon prince. And Lucien, the beautiful, unreadable incubus who invades her dreams. Each boy reacts to Seraphine as if they’ve known her far longer than she’s been alive… and each one’s powers surge unpredictably around her. As forbidden feelings spark and jealousy rises, Seraphine discovers a chilling truth: a prophecy ties her fate to theirs and to a sealed ancient power capable of either saving or destroying their world. Dark forces begin stirring beneath the Academy, hunting her magic… and her heart. To survive, Seraphine must unravel the mystery of who she really is and which boy she can trust when love itself might set the prophecy in motion. Because awakening the Aetherborn doesn’t just change her destiny. It changes everyone around her.

I see an anonymous poll online after Aidan Spencer returns to me and our family. "Does a man feel guiltier to his wife or mistress after cheating?" 99% of the voters chose "mistress". I turn to Aidan. "Do you agree with this?" He puts down his book, a hint of indescribable fatigue in his cool gaze. "I'm already back with you, Lily. What else do you want from me?"

I am finally pregnant with a child after being married to Anthony Johnson, my husband, who has azoospermia, for five years. Emily Johnson, my 30-year-old unemployed sister-in-law who lives off her family, tears the ultrasound scan apart and angrily accuses me of carrying someone else's baby. She then takes out a notebook packed with detailed records of every time Anthony and I have slept together since we got married. "In the past three months, the only time you slept with Anthony was three weeks ago; other than that, he never laid a finger on you! If you're over a month pregnant, then there's no way that baby belongs to the Johnson family!" I feel incredibly angry at the thought of being eavesdropped on all this time, so I seek out Anthony and demand an explanation. He merely looks at me with a pained expression and says, "You should just produce the evidence if you're innocent, Madison—just like Emily did." I laugh out of sheer exasperation. If they want evidence, then the baby I'm carrying is the best evidence there is.

In Hollow Creek, there was an old custom: if you turned thirty and still were not married, the community chair would arrange for you to come home and meet potential matches. When I told Marcus about it, he laughed coldly. “What kind of backwoods tradition is that supposed to be? “Constance, I said I would marry you, and I will. But pressuring me is something else.” Then he took out the ring and casually handed it to Hannah. She accepted it with a blush. “I was going to propose,” he said. “But since you want to act like this, maybe we should cool off for a while.” The ring I had waited years for was handed to someone else like it meant nothing. For a moment, I just stood there, stunned. Marcus walked out of my office with an easy confidence, the corner of his mouth lifted in a victorious smile. Hannah held the ring out to me. I did not take it. “Keep it,” I said. “Wasn’t it meant for you anyway? “You wear it. It suits you.” Her face went pale. I showed her to the door. Before closing it, I said, “Tell Mr. Vale that he and I are done.”