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[Mature Content] "He fell first and he fell harder!" A day before her engagement, Renée Findlay is rejected by her boyfriend. On top of that, she discovers that he has been cheating on her with her best friend. Her distress doesn't end there; Renée is thrown out of her own house after her ex transfers it into his name. Renée feels trapped in darkness until her ex's boss, Killian Morrison, enters her life. Killian Morrison is the CEO of Morrison Group. He is renowned for his icy demeanor, with a reputation cemented by his cold, heartless, and arrogant attitude. When he proposes to Renée to be his wife, she can't refuse because she wants revenge on her ex! But what came as a shock to Renée when she finds out Killian already has a girlfriend despite that he wants to marry her and keep her as his wife for one year. Why? Check out to find out in the story. **COVER IS MINE**

**Mature Content** "For you, I can burn the very pack that gave you nothing but pain. I can kill my own nephew for breaking your heart. I vow, Reina, with me by your side, you will believe in love again." ~~~~ Reina Ashfall was born an omega into a prestigious family of powerful Alphas. As the illegitimate daughter of a noble Alpha, she was denied recognition and raised as a servant in her own home. Ignored by her father and despised by her stepmother, Reina endured years of humiliation and cruelty for a sin she never committed. Her only comfort was Zayne Kingsley, her childhood friend and secret protector. He promised to stand by her and shield her from harm. But her happiness shattered the day Zayne was declared Alpha of the Pack. On that same day, Reina discovered him cheating on her with her half-sister. Broken and rejected, Reina decided to flee the pack. However, that was when fate intervened. A mysterious and powerful man appeared at her doorstep, Damon Kingsley, an Alpha feared across territories, known for his golden eyes and unmatched strength. Nearly ten years older, Damon claimed Reina as his destined mate. Forced by her family's threats, she agreed to marry him, entering the union with no hope of love. What she didn't know was that Damon was Zayne's uncle. For twelve years, Damon had searched relentlessly for his mate, defying destiny itself. With the help of a powerful witch, he finally found Reina, hidden in his nephew's pack. From the moment he saw her, he knew she was the one he had waited for. Determined to protect her, Damon claimed her as his mate and vowed to give her the devotion, respect, and love she had never known.

Adolphus Osbourne, the Alpha and Crown Prince of Arcaria, carries a heavy price for his ambition. While attempting to seize the forbidden Moon Crystal, he was struck by a witch's curse: he would be forever denied the bond of a fated mate. For years, he lived in that cold void, until Iris Vinsant crossed his path. Now, he is drawn to her, ignoring the dark consequences that loom over his kingdom and his life. Iris, a human girl who endured fifteen years of her stepmother's cruelty, chose to risk the unknown rather than suffer another day. But her midnight escape led her straight into the heart of the Forbidden Forest, where humans are never permitted. Captured by werewolves and forced into servitude at the royal palace, her world shifted from one nightmare to another. Yet, amidst the terrors of the court, she found herself haunted by a pair of predatory, green eyes. The Alpha Prince has noticed her, and in Arcaria, his attention is both a gift and a death sentence. ~~~~~ Iris's back pressed painfully against the cold stone wall as Adolphus's towering frame loomed over her. "You took your time returning, Iris," he murmured. The sharp, heady scent of wine clung to his breath, mingling with the earthy musk of his wolf. "His Highness is intoxicated. I... I should take my leave," Iris whispered, her voice trembling as she tried to shrink away from his heat. "You are the sole reason of my condition," Adolphus countered, his gaze locking onto hers with a terrifying intensity. Iris blinked rapidly, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Me?" Adolphus gave a slow nod. "The way you smiled at my younger brother... The way your fingers brushed his as you handed him that drink. It made me want to tear his throat out," he confessed, the casualness of his threat making Iris gasp. "I never-" Her protest was cut short as Adolphus pressed his index finger firmly against her lips, silencing her. "So, it was my brother today," he whispered, a dark, dangerous smirk tugging at his mouth. "Tell me, Iris, shall I kill him simply for smiling back at my woman?"

'His words weren't mere rules, but the laws.' Julia Sanchez wants to be a drama writer. But life took a strange turn for her when she was told to marry the most influential businessman, Marimo Martinez. However, there exists a problem. Marimo Martinez has been in a vegetative state for four years. His chances of survival are limited, yet Julia is forced to marry him. On the wedding day, Julia waited for Marimo to come on a wheelchair. To her surprise, Marimo came in a black tuxedo and was on the aisle, waiting for her. His features were breathtaking and stole her heart in a second. ****** "Wifey, let's make this night beautiful," Marimo said as he advanced to her. Julia gulped and slowly took backward steps. Her breath hitched when her back hit the pillar of the poster bed. Before she could run away, her petite figure landed on the soft mattress and those icy blue orbs fell onto hers. "Mr. Martinez, we don't know each other yet. Could you please—" she paused when she felt his cold fingers on her leg. The next second, she kicked him and Marimo fell to the floor with a loud bang.

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.”

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.

"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."

I was cheated on by my scumbag boyfriend. On the night I got blackout drunk, I married a stranger, and when I woke up, I only found a marriage certificate and a black card. He took care of my scumbag ex for me, gave me a canary diamond ring, but refused to show his face-he only called me baby on video calls. I ran to my best friend's house to hide, only to find that the billionaire next door, who made my heart skip a beat, had the exact same scent as him. My best friend cried and begged me: "He's Augustus, a tyrant who eats people alive!" But only I knew that the man who pressed me against the terrace railing, leaned down to kiss me, and whispered "I'll protect you" softly. Fifty thousand dollars to sneak photos of his private office? I'll go. Not for the money, but to ask him to his face- Gus, how many secrets are you hiding? And how long have you been craving me?

For fourteen years, Faith was the perfect Jarvis trophy wife. Plucked from her parents' funeral at seventeen, she was molded into an obedient, quiet accessory for Branson's billionaire empire. But while she managed his charities and smiled at galas until her face ached, he was busy humiliating her. She found another woman's gold bracelet in his desk, and today, his affair with a 23-year-old actress was broadcast on a massive electronic billboard right above his own Wall Street headquarters. For years, Faith had endured his coldness. He stopped touching her after the second miscarriage. He left her alone to cry in the back of his chauffeured cars at 3 AM. He thought her silence meant she was too weak, too poor, and too grateful to ever walk away. He called her a "cheap pet" who couldn't survive without his credit cards and mansions. He truly believed she needed someone else to want her before she could leave him. He never understood that wanting herself was enough. Did he really think she spent all those lonely nights just crying in her gilded cage? He was dead wrong. Faith didn't just pack a cheap duffel bag to run away. She walked right into his seventy-third-floor corner office, slammed down a zero-compensation divorce agreement, and tossed a highly encrypted USB drive onto his desk. "Sign the papers today, Branson. Or I hand your company's deepest secrets to a short-seller, and we watch your empire burn."

The rain in Detroit was slick with grime when my family finally came to fetch me. They didn't want a reunion; they wanted a sacrificial lamb to marry into the Kaufman empire to save their failing business. I thought I was just being sold off, but the limo ride ended under a dark overpass where six hired thugs were waiting with chains. My own sister had ordered them to "break my spirit" so I’d be a shaking, pathetic mess by the time I reached the altar. They called me "Detroit trash" and sprayed air freshener when I sat on their leather seats. My stepmother wanted a video of me begging for my life, and my father was ready to trade me like a used car to a man everyone called a "vegetable." They expected a submissive country girl, unaware that I was a high-level "cleaner" who could snap a radius bone before they could even scream. When I finally reached the Kaufman estate, I found my fiancé, Barron, slumped in a wheelchair, drooling and silent. But as soon as the doors closed, the "invalid" grabbed my wrist with a grip of iron and whispered a command that changed everything. I didn't understand why my own blood was so desperate to see me destroyed. What had I ever done to deserve a hit squad and a forced marriage to a man they thought was a corpse? But Barron isn't a vegetable, and I'm not a victim. We just touched down at the Moon family gala in a matte-black helicopter, and as the doors slide open, the "broken" bride is about to show them exactly what happens when you throw away the wrong daughter. "If we're going to crash a party," Barron whispered, his eyes burning with lethal clarity, "we should make an entrance."

On the night of her highly anticipated jewel launch, Eloise's world shatters when her husband Lucian publicly divorces her on national TV, rekindling his relationship with his ex-lover Jennifer, who is also Eloise's step-sister. As Eloise picks up the pieces, she meets a new man, who happns to be her boss, and sparks fly. Just as she begins to find success and happiness again, Lucian comes crawling back, desperate to reclaim what he lost.

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."

My family arranged my marriage to Silas Thorne, a Wall Street titan. There was just one problem: everyone, including my powerful new husband, believed I was a crippled, helpless girl from the countryside. On the day of my physical therapy, my father called, not to ask how I was, but to demand I give up the marriage for his illegitimate daughter, Chloe. "You can barely walk without a limp," he sneered. "You are going to embarrass the Vance family." My new husband treated me with cold duty, carrying me like a fragile doll but refusing to share a bed, citing my ‘soft tissue injury’ as a pathetic excuse. The rejection was humiliating. To make matters worse, Chloe tracked me down while I was shopping, eager to mock me in public. "Silas doesn't value you," she said, flashing a cheap ring from my father. "You’re just a crippled placeholder." They all saw a weak girl they could push around, completely blind to the fact that my limp was a carefully crafted lie. So I took the unlimited black card Silas gave me and bought a fifty-seven-million-dollar pink diamond, crushing her in front of New York’s elite. When I returned to our penthouse, Silas was waiting for me, a dangerous smirk on his face. "I heard," he said, his voice a low rumble, "that you bought a star with my money today?"

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."