Calendula

Her marriage is sexless, cold, and full of humiliation. She stays in the suck marriage to collect her billionaire husband's money for build her own business, and plan her freedom. While he rides his mistress in their bed many times, she quietly turns his wealth into her weapon. Years later, the wife everyone mocked becomes the world's first female trillionaire. When her bankrupt ex-husband kneels before her, willing to lick her dirt just to have her back, she smiles from her bathtub filled with money and says, "Ex-husband, I'm going to marry the second richest man in the world."

She is claimed in a passionate kiss by her stepbrother in a moonlit field, on her eighteenth birthday-the moment their true mate instincts ignite. Raine Bittley has never truly felt at home, especially since she and her mother moved to the Shadowfang Pack when she was eight. There, she's not just considered an outsider, she's hated and bullied, especially by one person–Killian Knight–heir to the Alpha, and the most arrogant man she's ever met. Now, Raine's life is upside down. From unwanted outsider to the Pack's condescending Luna. But with that title come darker secrets. And how does one escape fate... when fate is the man she hates, yet simultaneously burns for?

In a world engulfed in blazing desires and searing conflicts, Rachel becomes a pawn in the hands of her ruthless father, sold to the fiery Alpha King, Brandon. Bound by marriage but consumed by despair, Rachel's world ignites with unexpected flames when she discovers her pregnancy. Determined to escape Brandon's fiery grip, she flees Pack Manowi, knowing she is just a breeding tool to him—a mere flicker in his blazing ambitions. Months later, as Brandon's regret scorches his soul, he realizes the inferno of memories with Rachel has sparked a love he cannot extinguish. Desperate to reclaim what he lost, he searches relentlessly, flames of remorse licking at his every step. It is under the scorching gaze of the full moon that fate fans the flames of their reunion. But as the embers of their love smolder, a new inferno rises. Kennedy, a captivating Alpha intertwined with Rachel's destiny, emerges from the flames, declaring his claim over her. "Rachel, I'm here to claim you as my mate!" his voice crackles with intensity, promising a different kind of blaze. Defying the scorching challenge, Brandon's voice cuts through the air, a defiant inferno in its own right. "No, Rachel! I am your mate. Not him! You're my fate!" His fiery determination reveals a depth of love that can't be extinguished. Caught in the midst of their passionate duel, Rachel's heart becomes kindling for a burning decision. As the inferno of emotions threatens to consume her, she must choose between the warmth of Kennedy's embrace and the searing blaze of Brandon's ardor. In the heat of the moment, her choice will unleash a wildfire of consequences that will test the limits of love and reshape their destinies forever. In this scorching tale of desire and redemption, Rachel, Brandon, and Kennedy will be engulfed in a whirlwind of flames, where the heat of their connections threatens to either forge an unbreakable bond or reduce their world to ashes.

My four-year-old daughter was dying of leukemia, waiting desperately for a bone marrow transplant. I begged my billionaire husband to just call the registry or visit her, but he claimed he was too busy with board meetings to care. Until the hospital informed me that my daughter's life-saving bone marrow had been suddenly reallocated to another patient. When I walked down the VIP hallway, I found my husband. He wasn't at a board meeting. He was gently peeling an apple, playing the loving father to his widowed mistress's daughter. When my pale, sick daughter called out for him, he instinctively stepped back in disgust. I later discovered the mistress had bribed the hospital to swap the registry numbers, stealing my daughter's marrow for her own child. When I demanded a divorce, my husband laughed in my face. "You haven't worked a day in four years. You're a purchased asset. You don't get to walk away." He threatened to freeze my accounts, assuming I would be starving on the streets and begging to come back. His family and the mistress publicly mocked my background, waiting for me to be utterly humiliated. They thought I was just a useless, penniless housewife who relied entirely on his last name to survive. They didn't know I never needed a single cent of his money. I packed my bags, took my daughter, and made a single phone call. Three days later, at his family's elite banquet, my husband waited to see me beg. Instead, the most powerful corporate magnate in North America walked right past him, bowed to me at a perfect ninety-degree angle, and spoke. "Welcome back to the throne, Madam."

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."

"Sign it. Save her, and I'll give you anything." For four years, I was Damian Wright's 'invisible wife'. While I played the pauper, he poured his soul into his dying first love. Desperate, he blindly signed a stack of papers to buy the 'Gifted Doctor's' time. He didn't read the fine print. Buried inside was our Divorce Decree. "Congratulations, Damian," I said, stripping off my surgical mask to reveal the wife he never truly knew. "You're free." The submissive Amelia is dead. The legendary 'Ghost Surgeon'? That's me. The blindfolded racing queen 'Raven'? Also me. The shadow behind the global intelligence network V-Null? Still me. I was ready to vanish, but Lucas Sullivan-the titan who makes the Wrights look like peasants-blocked my path. When Damian tried to reclaim me, Lucas didn't just stop him; he brought an empire to its knees. "They don't deserve to look at you," Lucas whispered, his touch a lethal mix of protection and obsession. "But if you crave the world, Amelia, I'll burn it down just to hear you say my name."

For seven years, Rose Bennett was Ryan Knight's secret wife. While all of New York believed Samantha Hikk would become Mrs. Knight, Rose silently endured a cold marriage to a man who never loved her. Until one night, Samantha is rushed into Rose's emergency room pregnant. and Ryan is the one protecting her. That is the night Rose stops loving him. What Ryan never knew was that Rose had already given birth to his daughter years ago after he rejected both mother and child without hesitation. So Rose walks away-with only two suitcases, a hidden daughter, and the shattered remains of seven years. But the woman Ryan abandoned is no ordinary wife. Rose is the hidden genius behind Aetheris Medical AI, the revolutionary system about to change the entire medical world. As Rose rises to the top, becoming untouchable, powerful, and impossible to replace, Ryan finally realizes the devastating truth- He didn't lose a woman who loved him. He lost the only woman he would ever love. And by then, even their daughter no longer calls him father.

For four years, Ellyn was the scarred, despised wife of billionaire Baron Hudson, enduring his cruelty with silent devotion. But one night, after brutally forcing himself on her, he threw divorce papers at her bruised chest. "Did you really think I could ever stomach looking at that hideous face of yours for the rest of my life?" He kicked her out into the freezing rain because his flawless true love, Christine, was finally coming home. To ensure Ellyn suffered, Baron froze all her bank accounts, wanting her to starve on the streets until she begged for his mercy. Penniless and shivering in a rundown apartment, Ellyn discovered she was pregnant with his child, right as the news broadcasted him lovingly welcoming Christine at the airport. Her heart died completely. She had given him ten years of her life, only to be thrown away like garbage. But a shocking miracle happened: the intimate trauma had somehow triggered a biological cure, completely peeling away the ugly scar that had ruined her face for twenty years. If the ruthless Hudson family found out she was healed and carrying the heir, they would steal her baby and destroy her. Instead of taking his five-million-dollar hush money, Ellyn tore the contract to pieces, hid her newly flawless face, and vanished to Paris. Four years later, the Hudson family's grand banquet was brought to a dead halt by a stunning, untouchable woman in a red trench coat and her genius three-year-old son. Ellyn was back, and she wasn't the ugly duckling anymore.

She hides behind ugly suits and fake names. He's done trusting women. When they meet in a masked sex club, neither realizes they've been fighting each other across boardroom tables for eighteen months. At Taylor Industries, she's Joy Smith-the frumpy CFO who drowns her curves in shapeless polyester and wearing a wig. At home, she's the forgotten wife of a cheating lawyer who hasn't touched her in so long she's starting to wonder if she's broken. When she finds hot pink lace panties stuffed in her couch cushions...definitely not hers, it's not heartbreak she feels. It's freedom. Grayson Taylor doesn't do relationships anymore. Not after walking in on his actress fiancée with another woman. Now he channels everything into hostile takeovers and board meetings, especially the ones where his overcautious CFO fights him on every goddamn acquisition. Joy Smith is brilliant, infuriating, and funny when he pushes all her buttons. But Honey is tired of being invisible. Tired of never having felt real pleasure. So, when her best friend gives her the details of The Velvet Room-Manhattan's most exclusive masked club-she promises herself just one night. One night to find out if her husband's right, if she really is frigid, or if she's just never been touched by the right hands. She doesn't expect the masked stranger who claims her the second she walks in. Doesn't expect the chemistry that ignites between them, the way he makes her body sing, or the orgasms that leave her shaking. Doesn't expect him to hand her an email address with one command: "Only me. No one else touches you."

They called Sandara Wellington a cursed lady. The woman who would bring death to any man who loved her. On her wedding night, her husband fell from a rooftop- and she became the greatest scandal of the year. Heartbroken, pregnant, and hunted by rumors, she vanished overseas... Five years later, she returns not as the bullied bride everyone remembers... but as Doctor Eclipse, the most mysterious and powerful healer in the country- the woman even billionaire CEOs must beg for mercy. And the first man forced to bow before her? Skylar Addams-cold, ruthless, untouchable. The man tied to her past... The man who doesn't know those four children share his blood.

They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, mine didn't. I came back with a marriage certificate bearing a stranger's name, a ring worth more than my parents' love ever was, and a son whose father I've never seen, never known, never remembered. I went to Vegas for a racing competition. I won. I celebrated. And somewhere between the victory and the sunrise, my life changed forever. For six years, I've lived with the consequences of one reckless night. I built an empire. I raised my son. And I searched for the man who changed my life without even knowing it. Then fate laughed in my face. My sister married my ex-fiancé-the man I was promised to since childhood. The man I was supposed to become Mrs. Windsor for. The man who now wears my family name... and looks far too much like my child. Every time I'm near him, the past presses closer. Every glance feels like a question I'm terrified to ask. I shouldn't notice him. I shouldn't feel anything. He is my sister's husband. But some secrets refuse to stay buried. Because the truth about Vegas isn't just in the ring on my finger or the child in my arms. It's standing right in front of me. And when it finally comes out, it won't just destroy a marriage, it will burn an empire to the ground.

I was bleeding out on the cold ER table, my body failing, while the hospital’s blood bank sat empty. My husband, Clayton, stood just outside the glass doors, watching me die with the terrifying indifference of a man deciding on dinner. When the doctor begged him to sign the transfusion consent form to save my life, he didn't hesitate. He took the pen, slashed his signature across the Refusal of Treatment form, and turned his back on me to answer a call from the woman he truly loved. As my heart monitor flatlined into a long, piercing scream, I watched him walk away to comfort his mistress over a thunderstorm, leaving his legal wife to rot in a body bag. I was nothing to him—a vicious, disposable obstacle in his perfect world—and he ensured I left with absolutely nothing, freezing my accounts and cutting off my life. But he made one fatal mistake: he left me alive. I survived, and as I lay in the dark, the pathetic flame of my love for him snapped and died, replaced by a cold, broken promise. If I survived this night, I would make sure he bled for every second of the hell he put me through. I ripped the IV from my arm, stood up on my prosthetic leg, and walked out to start my war.

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."