L.T. Marshall

Sohla Kim has everything you could want in life. Born rich and smart, to a family that has status, money, and power, while dominating the investment world. A pre-set betrothment to her childhood best friend, Jyeon Park. The handsome, equally wealthy, and smart, future heir of OLO, their joint family company. An unbreakable bond between two families, a future that looks bright and rosy. Only the perfect picture is only that, and ten years on, alone, holding her head above water, in a loveless marriage laced with tragedy, her entire world is turned upside down. Everything she thought she had and knew comes crashing down one fateful night. New waters, new faces, and a denial of the past will bring her back full circle to really question everything she was born for. Was it always about money? Was she always a tool to elevate Jyeon to higher levels? Did none of them really love her?

Leyanne Cruden is a very old yet powerful witch in present day who is dissatisfied with the world as we know it. An immortal who stopped ageing in her late twenties. She has lived through so much and lost so many that it has jaded her personality and she no longer knows if she is good or bad. A vision leads her on a purpose to find an awakening hunter who threatens the existence of all supernatural beings. Like her he's young, immortal and everything that can destroy her. His creation was purely for the purpose of wiping the earth free of supernaturals. To prevent this tragedy she must assemble a coven of mixed creatures and figure out how to avert the destruction of magic before it's too late. They do say that sometimes the one thing which is the worst for you is the one thing you want the most - Dante Torres, a hunter with the ability to end her life. She will need to let people in if she has a hope of succeeding, as even a witch as powerful as her can not do it alone. With a collection of supernatural characters, love and heartbreak.

Emma Anderson has everything in her life worked out. She has her perfect job in a Manhattan empire allowing her to live a quiet and organised safe existence. A necessity to her, after a childhood filled with bad memories, abuse, and a mother who was less than useless. But, with it comes a problem, one that could derail everything she thought she needed in her life. Her promotion sends her straight into the close employment of young, gorgeous, playboy billionaire, Jacob Carrero with his formidable reputation for being a player. Stuck as his right-hand man, every waking moment of every single day, she realises he is exactly the type of person who could drive her crazy, and not in a good way. Like chalk and cheese, he is everything she's not. Compulsive, confident, laid back, dominant and fun, with a seriously laid back attitude to casual sex and dating. Jake is the only one with an ability to steamroll over her manicured ice maiden exterior, who is not phased by the closed in demeanour and cool manners, but as much as she wants to, letting him in is another thing entirely. A past that made her man wary and no desire to ever let one close enough to hurt her again, Jacob Carrero has his work cut out. He is not someone who takes NO for an answer and will have to learn how to break through if he wants more than the mask she shows the world. Jake needs to show her that even some one like him can change when that one girl that matters breaks through. Love-able sexy characters and deep emotional topics.

TangShi is a girl without much luck in the world. Despised by her father after her mother died giving birth to her, she has grown up in a cold and unloving environment and hated by her stepmother. Blamed for things she could never control and treated as an outcast by her own blood. Forced to come home after finally escaping to school on a self achieved scholarship abroad, she is promised to the son of the Leng family. To create a beneficial business alliance to further her own father's greed in the corporate world. Only YuZhi Leng is as unwilling as she is, with a girlfriend already in place that he adores and no desire to honor the contract put in place - to produce an heir in the first year of marriage and solidify the two families union. TangShi must bear living as a third wheel in this unwanted life and accept or be thrown aside by her family. Until upon meeting, she realizes that YuZhi may not be the stranger to her she thought he was and recognizes him on sight. Could he be the man she met eight years ago at a masked ball, who swept her off her feet and made her feel alive, and yet left her heartbroken that fateful night? A rollercoaster of a marriage is about to be embarked upon.

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."

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."

The freezing rain lashed against my face as I clung to the iron gates of the Hendrix estate, begging for a chance to prove I didn't kill my best friend. I had come here for mercy, but the man I had secretly loved for years had a different plan. He didn't want to hear my truth; he wanted to see me broken. As the sun rose, the estate manager delivered the final blow. He shoved Emery’s phone into my face, showing a forged text message that framed me for her death, then turned his back as the gates slammed shut. My own family didn't offer a lifeline, either. When the police came for me, my parents didn't fight for my innocence; they chose to disown me to save their bank accounts from Alfredo’s wrath. I was thrown into Rikers Island, stripped of my dignity, and subjected to years of calculated, brutal torture paid for by the man who once held my heart. How could the person I loved turn my life into a private slaughterhouse based on a lie? After three years of hell, I walked out of those prison gates with nothing but a scarred body and a hollow soul. The woman who loved Alfredo Hendrix died in that cell. Now, I’m back in the city where it all began, and I’m done hiding.

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.

For two years, Kailey lived as the invisible wife of billionaire Jack Velasquez, treated like a ghost in a mansion that felt like a beautiful cage. When Jack finally grew tired of her, he didn't even show up to say goodbye. He sent his cold-faced butler to hand her the divorce papers, kicking her out like trash. The entire East Coast high society mocked her, laughing at the "gold digger" who got dumped. Jack expected her to cling to his wealth, assuming she would eagerly take the fifty million dollar alimony. But shortly after the divorce, Jack's precious ward was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. Desperate, Jack ordered his men to turn over every rock in the world to find "The Surgeon"—a legendary, untraceable medical genius. He had no idea that the mythical savior he was frantically searching for was the quiet, forgettable ex-wife he had just thrown away. When Jack finally stood before her in the hospital, he didn't apologize. Instead, he threatened to destroy her career if she failed the surgery, arrogantly calling her a greedy opportunist. "I will take your license, your reputation, and your precious new center, and I will burn them to the ground." Kailey didn't shed a single tear. She had already signed away his fifty million without taking a cent. She simply picked up her old surgical tools, put on her pristine white coat, and forced the arrogant billionaire to fund a nine-figure neuroscience center just to get her to the operating table.

Kenzie, the former leader of the Aegis Alliance, opened her eyes to find herself reincarnated as a freezing, abandoned infant in a wet cardboard box. She was rescued from the rain by Devin Ayers, a ruthless billionaire, and rushed to a private hospital, but a deadly threat was already waiting for her. The ER doctor, Desiree Dillon, approached her with a syringe. Through a sudden burst of telepathy, Kenzie read the doctor's dark thoughts. Desiree wasn't trying to cure her fever. She deliberately ignored the safe dosage, drawing a lethal amount of Diazepam to permanently silence the crying baby and disguise it as sudden infant death. "This will make it all go away," Desiree smiled gently, the needle glinting as it moved inches from Kenzie's arm. Trapped in a weak, paralyzed three-month-old body, Kenzie couldn't run, fight, or even speak. She could only watch the poison inch closer. How could she survive death only to be assassinated in a hospital bed by a corrupt doctor? She used to command armies. The sheer injustice and terror of dying completely helpless in this tiny body ignited a blinding rage inside her. Refusing to be a victim again, Kenzie pushed her newborn brain to its absolute limit and unleashed a desperate telepathic scream directly into the billionaire's mind. "Poison! She's trying to kill me!" Devin, who had been looking away, suddenly froze, his icy gray eyes locking onto the doctor's wrist.

Keely returned to her Manhattan penthouse a day early, expecting the loving billionaire husband who had just told her how much he missed her. Instead, the scent of cheap vanilla perfume led her to the guest room, where she found Haden tangled in the sheets with his timid, soft-spoken secretary. To the world, Haden was the flawless, devoted partner. He would even beat a man to a bloody pulp at a high-society gala just for insulting her, violently claiming he was protecting his wife. But behind his golden-retriever facade lay a narcissistic monster. While begging for her affection and making her breakfast, he was secretly draining their marital assets into offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands. Keely had to swallow her disgust, forcing a perfect smile as she played the clueless, dependent trophy wife he wanted her to be. It made her physically sick. She couldn't understand how the man who looked into the camera with eyes full of love just last night could be the same thief plotting to leave her with nothing. Was his violent, suffocating obsession with her just a sick cover for his betrayal? But Haden didn't know his "helpless" wife was actually the ruthless CTO of a tech empire. She had already hacked the home surveillance and traced the missing funds, ready to make him bleed. Then, her private investigator called with a medical report that pushed her revenge to the edge. "Mrs. Jones, Darlene Sutton is six weeks pregnant."

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.

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.

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."