Authoress Charity

"I'm your husband now, Janice. Give me your hand, and don't do something stupid," Connor Hughes whispered those words that sent shivers down my spine, and I knew I was doomed for the rest of my life. I was supposed to get married to Carl Hughes, but his brother, the person I feared the most in life, showed up instead. Standing in front of the altar together, my heart pounded hard against my chest and the smirk that played on his lips made me regret ever playing a trick on this man. If only I could be given another chance to make things right, but it was too late. Just two weeks ago, I was happy, duping this man, thinking I was smart, little did I know that I would be tying the knot with him today as his wife. "You may exchange your rings now," My heart stopped beating as I watched him slid the diamond ring into my finger while having a deadly smirk playing at the corner of his lips. The ring felt like shackles of bondage, a promise of lifetime nightmares and miseries, something I wasn't sure I would ever be able to escape from. There were only two things involved. It was either I have a happy ending, or a sad one...

When Alpha Miguel found his fifth mate after the death of his previous mates that all died mysteriously, leading him to believing that he was really cursed as said to him earlier, he was determined to stay away from her and keep their relationship within work alone. However, he couldn't deny the crazy bond that kept pulling him to this girl, who has captured his heart at first sight, and now, he was determined to be with her and protect her from the dangerous creatures after her life. What happens when Clarissa, the twenty-two-year-old girl who already fell head over heels for her boss and boyfriend, found out that the man she loved so much was not a human as she thought, but a werewolf, an Alpha wolf at that? Will she be able to accept him for who he is?

"This is wrong, Tristan..." Her heart races rapidly as she steps away from him and walks back until her back is pressed hard against the wall. "Come on, Tracy... We both know you want this," The corner of his lips twitches into a smirk as he finally traps her between his arms while staring at her as though he'll devour her anytime soon. "Do you really want me to stop, hmm?" Nuzzling his head on her neck, and trailing his hand on her bare inner thigh, he whispers against her neck, driving her to the edge of craziness. "I'm...I'm..." "Tell me you want me, Tracy, and I promise to make you feel so good like no man ever did to you before," He nibbles on her earlobe, and she gasps sharply. "I want you, Tristan..." Those words slips out of her mouth before she can stop them. That was all the permission needed to pin her to the bed...

Shirley Wilson grew up in an abusive home, where she had to feed on her tears with each day that passes by. Hoping that her life would get better as time goes by, it only became worse after she was sold to a stranger by her stepfather. She was sad that she was sold, but was also happy that she has finally left the horrible world of her stepfather. Thinking that her life would change when she gets to her home, she was horrified to find out that she wasn't going to work as a maid as she thought earlier, but there was something more horrible waiting for her. A life she never imagined she would ever live, an awful fate that only existed in fictional world. She was sold not to become a maid, but a baby breeder to the billionaire, Dylan Wilfred and his wife, Wendy Lee. Will she ever get out of her horrible nightmare?

Evelyn Jones has always had a passion for her job as an accountant in Turner's empire, a successful business company. However, her passion for her job changed after she met the arrogant son of her boss, who was to become the new CEO. She thought that she'll be able to hold it in and keep working with them, however, she was mistaken as her psycho boss wouldn't let her be, nor give her the sack letter that she so much desired. Will she be able to cope with her new boss?

"You're a slut, Nadia. I hate you!" Trevor yells at the top of his voice, grabbing the flower vase on the mirror stand, and smashing it on the ground. "You think you're different from all of them? Do you think you're different from all those bitches I sleep with? Hell no, Nadia!" He yells again, glaring hard at her. "Don't you dare, Trevor! Don't you dare talk to me in that manner. Don't you dare call me names, you heartless beast! Do you have a conscience at all? Do you have a heart...." "One more word from you Nadia, and I'll make sure you regret the day you were born. For your damn information, I don't have a conscience. I don't have a heart," The corner of his lips slowly twitches into a smirk as he emphasizes his statement. "I thought you loved me..." "I never said I did... We were horny, and we satisfied each other. Whatever happened between us, is not based on some feelings shit, it was all fun," Nadia watches her with a broken heart as tears trickle down her cheeks. "And that thing inside you... You think it's mine? Were you by chance thinking that I'm going to take responsibility for that thing you're carrying? That's never going to happen, is either you get rid of it, or you go to hell with it. I don't care if you die or not, that's your problem to deal with. You're not my type my kind of woman, Nadia," And with that, he grabs her roughly and throws her out of his room, slamming the door hard on her face. Where is she going to start this journey of hers? How will she cope with the pregnancy? Staring at the closed door, her whole world comes crashing down before her eyes...

Living a simple life has always been her dream, but her life became a misery after she made the biggest mistake of becoming a substitute bride for the sake of her best friend. Chloe Orlando is a young orphan that lived with her only friend, after the death of her late parent. Her life took another turn when she had to pose as Jeffrey Ramos' bride on his wedding day, in the place of her best friend. She thought it was just a one time thing, but what happens when her life and career is now at stake, and the only way to save herself is to marry the young billionaire for real? Do you think she'll be able to cope in the marriage, especially knowing that his heart still belongs to her best friend?...

Octavia, a beautiful and strong werewolf, was born into the family of Zaid, an omega type of werewolves, the lowest ranking werewolves in Dark Moon pack. For the fear of going through the brutal pains of being an omega, her parents decided to keep her birth a secret from the outside world, as the only one who knew about the poor girl's existence after the parents, is Lia, the Alpha's surrogate mom. She was locked inside the house for twenty years, not seeing the outside world. No friends, no other families, just she and her poor parents. She always sneaked out in the night to get fresh air, and all these time, she made sure to not stay out long, to avoid being caught, as it'll end her poor parents in trouble. On this fateful day, her whole life turned into a misery, as she went out, but got caught by a stranger, who turned out to be their Alpha, whom she had seen a couple of times, but never got to see his face. To punish her and the parents, the Alpha decided that her parents should be killed, to justify their crime, but what happens, when the little Octavia, got consumed by her power, and her demon took over her, right in front of the Alpha, which is something that had never happened in history?

For five years, I abandoned my status as the heiress of the powerful Montgomery family to play the role of a poor, submissive housewife for Barrett. Then, a bank notification popped up on my phone. Barrett had forged my digital signature and transferred our entire $50 million joint trust fund to a woman named Crista Reid. When I called his boardroom to confront him, he humiliated me in front of a dozen Wall Street executives. "Stop acting like a hysterical housewife. You're living in a penthouse I pay for, so don't embarrass yourself." I broke into his encrypted laptop and uncovered the sickening truth. Crista was his mistress, and they had a five-year-old son together. Barrett hadn't just stolen my money; he had spent years painting me as a helpless charity case he rescued, completely erasing the fact that my financial models built his entire company. He thought I was just a discarded peasant he could manipulate, cheat on, and replace. He truly believed he held absolute power over my life. He had no idea that I still possessed the highest security clearance of the Montgomery empire. I pulled an old BlackBerry from a hidden wall compartment, plugged it in, and dialed my family's lawyer. "Draft the prenup for Commodore Clayton IV," I ordered, choosing to marry Wall Street's most ruthless predator. "I'm done playing the peasant."

For ten years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to my wealthy husband, managing his severe OCD and hosting flawless high-society parties. But on our tenth anniversary, when I brought him his special hangover soup, I caught him sleeping with my younger sister in our master bedroom. Instead of panicking, he coldly handed me divorce papers with zero assets. He told me I was just a "placeholder" until my sister finished her degree and was ready to take my spot. Desperate, I called my mother for help, only to find out she had known about their affair for years. "You don't have Jana's drive or her looks. You clean house and you cook. That's not a wife, that's a domestic." My own mother sneered at me, telling me to walk away quietly because our family needed his financial support. They kicked me out of the penthouse with nothing but a suitcase, laughing that a woman who hadn't worked in a decade would end up begging on the streets. I bled for this family for ten years, only to be thrown away like garbage when my sister wanted my life. But they didn't know that while I was playing the boring housewife, I had secretly earned a Cordon Bleu diploma, a Cornell nutrition certification, and a Columbia master's degree. Using a hidden photo to blackmail a property out of him, I packed my elite credentials and landed a $300,000-a-year job managing a billionaire's estate. When my ex-husband drunkenly called days later demanding I come back to serve him, I calmly hit block.

Rain lashed against the twisted metal as Hallie lay pinned in the wreckage of her car, her chest crushed and fading fast. The paramedic found her phone and desperately dialed her husband, Aidan. "Your wife has been in a severe car crash! We're losing her!" the paramedic shouted over the storm. A harsh, mocking laugh came through the speaker. "Tell her this is a pathetic way to stop the divorce," Aidan sneered. "I do not have time for her crazy games." The line went dead, and Hallie's heart flatlined. Separated from her body, Hallie's ghost was forced to witness the horrific aftermath of her own death. Her mother refused to claim her corpse because there was no insurance payout, telling the hospital to throw her in a ditch. Pulled back to her penthouse, she found Aidan gently holding her sister, Cecile. Cecile sobbed about Hallie's "fake crash" in Aidan's arms, but the moment he looked away, a wicked smirk of victory spread across her face. Cecile was the predator, and Aidan was her willing protector. He even ordered Hallie's brilliant, life's-work sketchbook to be thrown into an industrial shredder, giving all her corporate resources to fund Cecile's debut. Hovering in the cold air, Hallie watched her three years of devotion turn to ash. She was treated like garbage, a mere stepping stone for her sister's rise. But just as her soul turned to ice, Aidan's face suddenly grew paranoid. "Check her medical records," Aidan ordered his assistant coldly. "Find out who is helping her fake this injury." Hallie's invisible spirit shivered with a dark, vengeful anticipation. What would her arrogant husband do when his relentless digging finally uncovered her cold, dead body?

"I've warned you from the beginning. Don't marry him, but you won't listen." Darcy stood close to me and smiled with concern. "You're not a woman worthy of a man as handsome, rich, smart, and virile as Blaze." My whole body trembled at her words. "Have you no shame?" I asked. "Take a good look at yourself, Heather." She stared at me in the mirror. "You can't even glance at your ugly face. Do you think Blaze can endure a lifetime of gazing at that scar?" Heather Bailey got a surprise from her husband: a divorce agreement. After a year of marriage and facing ups and downs, she couldn't believe Blaze intended to divorce her. She was devastated when she saw him gazing lovingly at another woman. After signing the divorce papers, shockwaves caught her up. Her flower shop was burned to the ground. Her father's company collapsed, and her parents blamed her. She struggled to rebuild her life from the ground up and became more successful than ever. Having many customers from influential families, she started her revenge on Blaze. She won the very thing he wanted, but that was just the beginning.

To revenge herself on her unfaithful fiancé Kevin, Isidora hides her striking beauty behind a plain disguise, and targets his uncle - the most formidable man Kevin fears. After one reckless night, Isidora leaves cash as payment and says lightly, "You were good last night." She tries to leave quietly, but is pulled into his arms. "You think you can walk away after this?" he says, his tone low and possessive. Cedrick is a feared, untouchable titan on Wall Street - elegant, aloof, and completely uninterested in women. Not even the most beautiful socialites in the city can catch his eye. When gossip spreads that he was seen pressing a woman against a wall and kissing her fiercely, no one believes it. When the rumors name Isidora, the crowd scoffs. He rejects even the most beautiful women, so why would he notice a plain girl like her? All doubt disappears when they see the dignified Cedrick drop to one knee to help Isidora with her shoe, pleading softly for just one kiss. When Kevin finally sees Isidora's true beauty and begs for forgiveness. But Cedrick kicks him out at once, slams a marriage certificate on the table, and says sharply. "Call her Aunt."

I was Landon Mercer's secret girlfriend and loyal assistant for four years. I thought my absolute devotion would eventually win his heart. But he casually announced his engagement to a wealthy heiress, reminding me I was just a convenient nobody from an orphanage. When I got trapped in a horrific car crash and begged him to call an ambulance, he just hung up on me, annoyed that my bleeding was ruining his romantic getaway. He even blackmailed me with my orphanage's land lease, forcing me to attend his engagement party as a prop. At the party, his elite family and friends brutally humiliated me. They deliberately crushed my broken arm, poured red wine over my head, and kicked me into a freezing pond. When Landon finally pulled me out, he didn't care that I was suffocating and turning blue. "Are you out of your mind? You come out here and cause a scene during my engagement party?" He threw a stack of cash at my shivering body, furious that I had embarrassed him in front of his wealthy guests. Looking at the hundred-dollar bills floating in the muddy water, my four years of foolish love completely died. To him, I wasn't even human; I was just a cheap toy he could abuse and pass around. I didn't cry, and I didn't beg. I dragged my soaked, battered body into a car and headed straight to the penthouse of his biggest billionaire rival. It was time to burn Landon Mercer's world to the ground.

On my wedding day, my fiancé Connor received an urgent phone call. He told me a D-list actress had broken her leg on set, then abandoned me right at the altar. In my past life, I cried until my throat bled, begging him not to leave. But my tears only brought endless humiliation. My mother and adopted sister mocked me, framed me, and forged my signature to steal my multi-million dollar trust fund. They kicked me out of the family estate without a single dime. I ended up freezing to death in the minus-twenty-degree New York blizzard, listening to my mother's voicemail telling me to die in the street as long as I didn't bleed on her carpets. Until my last breath, I couldn't understand why my own blood relatives hated me so much, yet treated an adopted daughter like a precious princess. The only person who showed me any mercy—draping his wool coat over my frozen corpse and giving me a proper burial—was Connor's ruthless, untouchable uncle, Harding Snow. Opening my eyes again, I was back in the bridal suite, right as Connor was rushing out the door. This time, I didn't shed a single tear. I let him run to his actress, then walked straight into the VIP room to face the most feared billionaire on Wall Street. "The wedding proceeds as planned, but the groom's name changes to yours."

The Wellington beef sat cold on the mahogany table, a graying monument to three years of wasted devotion. It was my birthday and our anniversary, but my husband, Hamilton McKee, didn't even look at the gift I’d spent months knitting. "Our marriage is a transaction," he said, his voice cutting like a scalpel. "Stop trying to make it a romance novel. I just need you to stop existing in my space for five minutes." Then his phone buzzed with a call from Cuba, the ex-girlfriend he never truly left. His cold mask shattered into frantic concern, a look he had never once given me. "I'm coming," he whispered to her, sprinting for the door without a backward glance at the wife he was leaving behind. I chased him into the freezing Boston night, only to be swarmed by predatory paparazzi. As Hamilton’s Maybach roared away, a heavy camera bag slammed into my shoulder. I slipped on the black ice, my skull hitting a granite gate pillar with a sickening crack. Warm blood trickled down my neck, and as the world tilted, the fog in my brain finally cleared. I wasn't the penniless orphan from Southie he thought I was. Images of sterile operating rooms, complex sutures, and a billion-dollar inheritance flooded back—along with the memory of the car wreck three years ago where I was the one who pulled Hamilton from the flames, not Cuba. How could I have spent three years begging for scraps of affection from a man who didn't even recognize his own savior? Why did I let a fraud steal my life while I played the role of a submissive shadow? When I woke up in the hospital, the trembling girl was gone. I ripped the IV from my arm and stared at the man who had come back only to demand I stay out of his way. I didn't cry. I didn't beg. I simply handed him a piece of paper with one word written in the sharp, confident script of a woman who owned half the city: DIVORCE. "Sign it, Hamilton," I said, my voice like ice. "Because by tomorrow, I’m not just leaving you—I’m taking the McKee empire with me."

After spending a night with a strange man on the day before her wedding, Arianna left the country to start her life afresh. The 22-year-old Arianna Jason lived her life pleasing those she loved the most, without knowing that she was simply a prey being nurtured for the day of her ruin. Her life has tasted the butter pill of betrayal. She wants to give back to the world what she's got but how can she change her good, innocent personality to fit into a cruel society and world? Can her sweet nature be contaminated, or will she make it through, paddling on the right path?

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.