Second Chance at Yale

I was Caroline Devereaux, New Orleans' formidable state senator, and my life was a calculated masterpiece of power and prestige. My marriage to Julian Boudreaux, though arranged, was merely another conquest, and I treated my sickly husband with the disdain he deserved for his family's past sins. I watched his cough worsen, dismissed his pleas, stripped him of his inheritance, and systematically dismantled his family, reveling in their ruin. When he knelt in the rain for his dying grandfather, begging for life-saving medicine, I had Leo smash it before his eyes. I broke him, watched his grandfather and sister die, and finally, saw him take his own life in despair, fleeing me even in death. Then, the world shattered. I woke to the sound of jazz, the smell of wilting flowers, and the chilling realization that it was my wedding day-four years ago. I was given a second chance, thrown back into the life I had so utterly destroyed. Now, with the memory of his death haunting me, and Julian's cold, knowing eyes meeting mine, I know I must undo everything. This time, I will not only save him but protect my heart and the man I never knew I loved.

I woke with the violent jolt of the plane landing, but it wasn't the impact that shocked me deeply; it was the chilling, immediate memory of icy black water filling my lungs as an anchor dragged me down. My husband, Captain Mark Vance, watched from the boat with eyes as blank as a winter sky-the last sight before my first life ended ten years ago. Miraculously, incomprehensibly, I was alive, but the life I' d returned to was a meticulously crafted lie built on my erased existence. My husband and best friend, Ashley Barnes, had stolen my identity, swindled my parents, and even sent my brilliant young daughter, Chloe, to a brutal camp, twisting her trauma into a story of her mother's "psychotic break." Now, they flaunted a lavish life built on my ruin, with my very own child reduced to a bruised, silent servant in her own home, while guests used my family heirlooms for cheap hors d'oeuvres. The betrayal was a deep, burning wound, but the sight of Chloe' s thin, bruised arms ignited a pure, glacial rage within me, a fury that promised a reckoning far colder than any Alaskan winter. How could they stand so proudly, so shamelessly, after committing such unspeakable atrocities against me and my child? This was no longer a scientist returning home; it was a ghost resurrected, armored by ten years of accumulated savings and a thirst for justice. I walked into their opulent party, not for revenge, but to reclaim what was mine, armed with the truth and a fury that would shatter their carefully constructed world. Tonight, the perfect facade they' d built would be exposed, and they would finally face the woman they thought they' d killed.

Fifty million dollars. My cracked phone screen showed the winning Powerball numbers, confirming an impossible match. Twenty years a ghost, living paycheck to paycheck in a tiny Brooklyn apartment, and now, I held the key to a new life. But the buzz of my phone pulled me back to a familiar nightmare. It was Brenda, my "adoptive" mother, calling with fake sympathy, quickly turning to thinly veiled greed for money for my "father's" liver transplant. When I calmly told her I had won the lottery, her manufactured panic vanished, replaced by an ugly, avaricious gasp. My refusal to hand over a single cent unleashed a public tirade; soon, I was plastered across every news channel, dubbed the "Powerball Parasite," buying Birkin bags while my "dying dad" lay in a hospital bed. The world hated me, calling me a monster. Every comment was a venomous stab, every headline a condemnation. They didn't understand the icy calm behind my eyes, the cold precision of my actions. They saw heartless cruelty; I saw the meticulously laid foundation for a justice long overdue. Why would I invite such public scorn? Why play the villain? Because this wasn't some selfish whim. This was a calculated strike. And when the invitation came from 'The Dr. Grant Show' – Brenda's last desperate plea – I knew it was time for the world to see the truth. Not just my truth, but their truth.

I am Echo, born of forgotten children's whispers, and for centuries, I've seen only the transactional nature of human love. A chance at freedom from Purgatory appeared: assume the form of five-year-old Lily for three days. If her brother or mother truly recognized me, I could stay, finally knowing what true connection felt like. But stepping into the vibrant human world as Lily, I became an immediate pawn. Her wealthy brother, Ethan, saw not his sister, but a medical solution-a bone marrow donor for his "real sunflower." He locked me away, labeling me "the donor" and "secured," completely devoid of familial affection. Later, her politically calculating mother, Katherine, eyed me with suspicion, dismissing me as a cruel stunt arranged by her rivals. My every attempt to rekindle their memories-a shared friendship bracelet, a secret four-leaf clover-was met with cold accusations. I was imprisoned, treated as a tool, and nearly forced into a painful medical procedure. During a terrifying earthquake, Ethan abandoned me without a glance; my mother violently shoved me away, convinced I was a political weapon. How could they know all Lily's secrets, her cherished tokens, yet gaze through me as if I were nothing more than an empty shell? The love I craved, the recognition I desperately pursued, seemed to vanish the moment it flickered. My cynicism, once a shield, became a crushing weight; they recognized the symbols, but utterly failed to see the soul. At the stroke of midnight, as my test hung on a thread of their persistent doubt, the true Lily' s spirit appeared. And in that instant, without a single question or a need for proof, Ethan and Katherine recognized her, unconditionally. This pure, undeniable love, transcending physical form, shattered my entire understanding of existence. Now, faced with this profound truth and an unimaginable choice, my story-and theirs-was destined for a miraculous, unforeseen path.

The last thing I saw was Maverick' s powerful hooves, descending on me. I was back, gasping, the thick scent of magnolias filling my lungs at the Claiming Ceremony – the day my life fell apart. Maverick, the champion I had raised from a foal, trotted straight to Charlotte, nuzzling her hand in a blatant act of public rejection. My father, Richard, placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip tight, announcing, "Charlotte has a special connection. You're the older sister, let her have him. It' s for the good of the family's reputation." The jockey I' d helped sneered, "A champion horse needs a champion rider." Charlotte's friends chimed in with fake sympathy, insisting I was never strong enough, that I would have held him back. The humiliation was a physical weight, but this time, in my second chance, I felt only a cold resolve. My father pushed, trying to salvage his scheme, offering me the sickly, seemingly worthless colt, Ash, in exchange. Everyone pitied the broken girl being cast aside, agreeing I was walking away empty-handed. But kneeling beside Ash, I felt a faint, familiar warmth, a deep connection confirming what I suspected: he was my mother' s true legacy, the horse she had left for me. Charlotte, arrogant in her victory, declared, "Let' s perform the bonding ritual now, so everyone can see the true bond between a rider and her horse." I stood, a slow smile spreading across my face. "I agree."

I played the broke NYU art student, secretly Hailey Voss, tech empire heiress, tired of fakes. My crush, Caleb, a famously poor artist, seemed different. So, I lured him to rent a room in my lavish SoHo loft with a twisted, shirtless discount. I reveled in this unusual power game. Then my world imploded. My stepfather, Richard, orchestrated a hostile takeover, bankrupting my mother's company overnight. I lost everything-my fortune, identity, my home. Suddenly, I was genuinely penniless; credit cards useless, trust fund frozen. The next day, "broke" Caleb bought my multi-million dollar loft for cash, flipping our game. He offered me a room, teasing I'd now be topless for rent. Publicly humiliated by Brody, my old tormentor, I felt completely broken, cash thrown at my feet. How did Caleb have millions? Why play my charade? How was Hailey Voss, the heiress, so utterly powerless and abandoned? Blindsided and distraught, my life lay in ruins. Then, alone and desperate in Washington Square Park, a black Escalade appeared. Out stepped Caleb, in a tailored suit, flanked by security, not torn jeans. He faced Brody, voice cold: "You just put your hands on my future wife." My "broke artist" was Caleb Astor, heir to a real estate dynasty, and our unexpected story was just beginning.

Two years ago, Ricky found himself coerced into marrying Emma to protect the woman he cherished. From Ricky's perspective, Emma was despicable, resorting to underhanded schemes to ensure their marriage. He maintained a distant and cold attitude toward her, reserving his warmth for another. Yet, Emma remained wholeheartedly dedicated to Ricky for more than ten years. As she grew weary and considered relinquishing her efforts, Ricky was seized by a sudden fear. Only when Emma's life teetered on the edge, pregnant with Ricky's child, did he recognize-the love of his life had always been Emma.

Life was perfect until she met her boyfriend's big brother. There was a forbidden law in the Night Shade Pack that if the head Alpha rejected his mate, he would be stripped of his position. Sophia's life would get connected with the law. She was an Omega who was dating the head Alpha's younger brother. Bryan Morrison, the head Alpha, was not only a cold-blooded man but also a charming business tycoon. His name was enough to cause other packs to tremble. He was known as a ruthless man. What if, by some twist of destiny, Sophia's path were to intertwine with his?

She spent ten years chasing after the right brother, only to fall for the wrong one in one weekend. ~~~ Sloane Mercer has been hopelessly in love with her best friend, Finn Hartley, since college. For ten long years, she's stood by him, stitching him back together every time Delilah Crestfield-his toxic on-and-off girlfriend-shattered his heart. But when Delilah gets engaged to another man, Sloane thinks this might finally be her chance to have Finn for herself. She couldn't be more wrong. Heartbroken and desperate, Finn decides to crash Delilah's wedding and fight for her one last time. And he wants Sloane by his side. Reluctantly, Sloane follows him to Asheville, hoping that being close to Finn will somehow make him see her the way she's always seen him. Everything changes when she meets Knox Hartley, Finn's older brother-a man who couldn't be more different from Finn. He's dangerously magnetic. Knox sees right through Sloane and makes it his mission to pull her into his world. What starts as a game-a twisted bet between them-soon turns into something deeper. Sloane is trapped between two brothers: one who's always broken her heart and another who seems hell-bent on claiming it... no matter the cost. CONTENT WARNING: This story is strongly 18+. It delves into dark romance themes such as obsession and lust with morally complex characters. While this is a love story, reader discretion is advised.  

For as long as Emily can remember, she has wanted to overcome her shyness and explore her sexuality. Still, everything changes when she receives an invitation to visit one of the town's most prestigious BDSM clubs, DESIRE'S DEN. On the day she chose to peruse the club, she noticed three men, all dressed in suits, standing on the upper level, near the railing. Despite her limited vision, she persisted in fixating on them. Their towering statues belied the toned bodies concealed by their sharply tailored suits-or so she could tell. The hair of two of them was short and dark, and the third had light brown-possibly blond-hair that reached the shoulders. The dark, crimson background incised their figures, exuding an air of mystery and strength. They stood in stark contrast to the unfiltered, primal energy that pulsed through the club. Shocked by the desires these men aroused in her, she was disappointed to learn that they were masters seeking a slave to divide and conquer. She couldn't afford the fee, and she also realized that they were outside her league. Emily hurriedly left the club, feeling disappointed and depressed, unaware that she had also caught the group's attention. A world of wicked pleasure, three handsome men. Over the years, they have lived a life of decadence, their lavish lair serving as a stage for their most sinister desires. But despite the unending parade of willing subjects, one woman sticks out. A mysterious stranger with white porcelain skin and a killer body, a slave, a name with no address, the first lady to attract their eye and they will go to any length to obtain her no matter the consequences.

Elena, once a pampered heiress, suddenly lost everything when the real daughter framed her, her fiancé ridiculed her, and her adoptive parents threw her out. They all wanted to see her fall. But Elena unveiled her true identity: the heiress of a massive fortune, famed hacker, top jewelry designer, secret author, and gifted doctor. Horrified by her glorious comeback, her adoptive parents demanded half her newfound wealth. Elena exposed their cruelty and refused. Her ex pleaded for a second chance, but she scoffed, “Do you think you deserve it?” Then a powerful magnate gently proposed, “Marry me?”

At their wedding night, Kayla caught her brand-new husband cheating. Reeling and half-drunk, she staggered into the wrong suite and collapsed into a stranger's arms. Sunrise brought a pounding head-and the discovery she was pregnant. The father? A supremely powerful tycoon who happened to be her husband's ruthless uncle. Panicked, she tried to run, but he barred the door with a faint, dangerous smile. When the cheating ex begged, Kayla lifted her chin and declared, "Want a second chance at us? Ask your uncle." The tycoon pulled her close. "She's my wife now." The ex gasped, "What!?"