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My little brother's heart monitor was screaming its final warning. I called my husband, Dante Volkov, the ruthless underworld king whose life I'd saved years ago. He had promised to send his elite medical team. "I'm handling an emergency," he snapped, then hung up. An hour later, my brother was dead. I found out what Dante's "emergency" was from his mistress's social media. He had sent his team of world-class surgeons to deliver her cat's kittens. My brother died for a litter of cats. When Dante finally called, he didn't even apologize. I could hear her voice in the background, asking him to come back to bed. He even forgot my brother was dead, offering to buy him a new toy to replace the one his mistress deliberately crushed. This was the man who had promised to protect me, to make my high school tormentors pay. Now, he was holding that very tormentor, Seraphina, in his arms. Then came the final blow: a call from the clerk's office revealed our seven-year marriage was a sham. The certificate was a forgery. I was never his wife. I was just a possession he was tired of. After he left me to die in a car crash for Seraphina, I made one call. I texted a rival mob heir I hadn't spoken to in years: "I need to disappear. I'm calling it in."

I was the Fated Mate of Lycus Stone, chosen by the Moon Goddess herself. But he performed the sacrilegious ritual of Rejection, severing our sacred bond to run away with his widowed sister-in-law. He abandoned me and our newborn son in the freezing wilderness, claiming she was his true mate to secure a high-ranking position in a powerful pack. For a decade, while he enjoyed his prestige, I was trapped in a living hell. My in-laws treated me worse than a stray dog, beating me daily and forcing me to eat moldy scraps. Even my own daughter despised my low status, stealing my food to buy pretty dresses and laughing as I starved. "You're just a useless Omega. You deserve to suffer!" In the end, my frail body was ripped apart by wild beasts in the snow. I died listening to the agonizing sound of my own tearing flesh, completely abandoned. Until my last breath, I felt nothing but a suffocating despair. Why did my mate defy the Goddess to choose his brother's widow? Why did my family treat me like garbage while praising his monstrous betrayal? Opening my eyes again, the blinding pain was gone. I was back in that miserable cabin, exactly ten years ago. This time, I grabbed the heavy iron poker by the fireplace. The weak Elara is dead, and I am going to destroy them all.

A virgin at thirty? A plus-size? Yes, that's Hera. After a painful heartbreak, she shuts herself off and chooses to focus on her career. Well, that's until She meets Mason aka Viper, the leader of Shadow riders motorcycle club on her way to her best friends wedding. He stakes his claim on her but life has a way of messing people up. Past traumas and bitter Ex's crawl on them. Hera has a secret, will Mason accept this side of her when he learns about it? *** He is ready to settle, she only wants to play around. He is Jepoy aka Zero. The deadly weapon of the club, yet she elopes his traps, avoiding his claim. She was not always like this, a traumatic marriage changed her. He saved her from him, but he can't save her from the hell she lives in everyday. Chloe knows she isn't ready to settle, Jepoy knows he must stake a claim on her. Two wounded souls, two different destination, is there a future for them? TRIGGER WARNING: The story contains sensitive information.

Angel was slammed onto the freezing stone slabs of the central square, surrounded by the deafening, mocking laughter of her clan. Her own sister, Jasmine, stood over her with a look of pure malice, loudly and falsely accusing Angel of sneaking into the Chief's tent to seduce him. Then, Al Stein, the man who had sworn to be her mate, stepped out of the crowd with a twisted face of disgust. "You're a genetic reject. You can't give me children. You're useless." He threw their bone mate ring hard at her face, cutting her cheek, as the crowd roared for her blood. Without a trial, the High Oracle stripped her of her citizenship and sentenced her to eternal exile in the deadly wasteland. To make her punishment a complete joke, the guards dragged out a comatose, dying outcast named Kain, slicing Angel's finger to force a mate bond between the two defects. They were tossed out into the raging blizzard like discarded corpses, the heavy steel gates slamming shut behind them, cutting off all light and warmth. Angel crawled through the snow, her vision blurring from extreme starvation and the biting wind, suffocating under the weight of their lies. Why did her own blood frame her? Why did her mate throw her away to die in the ice? Just as the freezing shadow of death wrapped around her, a sharp, mechanical voice exploded in her mind. [Genetic Evolution Codex activated. Host Status: Legendary Kitsune Prime.] The despair evaporated from her chest, replaced by a burning vow to survive and make every single one of them pay.

Six years ago, I was driven out of Manhattan with nothing but the clothes on my back. My two-year-old son, Alex, was dead, and I was branded the monster who killed him. My husband, Corwin, threw me away without a second glance, choosing to protect his new fiancée—my cousin Evelina, the real murderer. When I finally returned to their elite engagement party, everyone thought I was still that pathetic, broken woman. Evelina dug her acrylic nails into my skin, warning me to stay away from her man. Corwin looked at me like I was rotting garbage. To publicly humiliate me at their private yacht party, he forced me to drink three full bottles of neat whiskey in front of the city's elite. "For every drop you spill, I add another bottle," he commanded coldly. I drank until my stomach tore open, collapsing onto shattered glass and coughing up dark red blood while they watched with predatory joy. They thought they had won. They thought I was finally destroyed. They didn't know the trembling hands and the terrified tears were all a carefully calculated act. I wiped the blood from my chin and smiled. I didn't come back to this city to clear my name or beg for forgiveness. I came back to drag every single one of them to hell.

I was the Thornton Pack's brilliant but "wolfless" assistant, a defect they treated like a charity case. After years of letting the Alpha, Caleb, control me to prove my worth, he publicly humiliated and discarded me for a pure-blooded pack princess. Heartbroken and drunk at a bar, I accidentally bit and marked a terrifying stranger who saved me from two creeps. I woke up to find out I had drunkenly claimed Damien Blackwood—a ruthless billionaire and the apex Lycan King of the werewolf world. To prevent a pack war over the claiming mark, Damien trapped me in a two-year contract marriage, treating me like a convenient political tool. Right after we signed the papers, I got a call from the police. My little brother, Jamison, had been arrested for punching Caleb, who was bragging about ruining my dignity. At the precinct, Caleb sneered at my misery, threatening to destroy my brother's future. Seeing the fresh bite mark on my neck, Jamison exploded in handcuffs, screaming that Damien had blackmailed me into his bed to get him out of jail. I begged Damien to step outside so I could explain this horrific misunderstanding, feeling like I had sold my soul to a cold-blooded predator. But Damien ignored my pleas. He pulled me behind him, his suffocating Lycan aura crushing everyone in the room. "Yes, she was with me last night, because she is my wife." Before anyone could process the shock, his eyes darkened with a terrifying, unhinged possessiveness. "And I didn't marry her to solve a problem. I married her because I've been in love with her for ten years." I stared at his broad back, my blood running cold as I realized I had no idea what kind of monster I had just bound my life to.

I found out my husband of three years had cheated on me and his mistress is the one who told me-because he didn't have the balls to do it himself. I move out and get a new apartment, a job as a bartender, and try to move on with a broken heart. I wonder where it all went wrong, if I hadn't been enough for him, if I'd been stupid for marrying him in the first place. I'm at work one night when he walks inside-the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He sits at the bar and a forest fire burns between us. I was depressed the moment before he entered, but the second I look at his blue eyes, I forget the dumpster fire that my life has become. I invite him back to my place and it's the most passionate night of my life. I expect to never see him again. I just want him as an anti-depressant-but he wants me all to himself. I just got my heart ripped out of my chest so I want something easy and no-strings-attached, but he wants all the strings because he's hooked. I don't get much of a say in the matter, and that's not surprising when I learn why-because he's the Butcher. The crime lord of all crime lords, the boss that overshadows all of Paris, that makes everyone abide by his rules-or pay. And now I'm his.

I was lying in the emergency room with acute gastroenteritis on my birthday, but my mother ordered me to rip out my IV needle. She threatened to freeze all my accounts if I didn't show up to my adopted sister's high-society matchmaking party. When I arrived, dragging my weak body, I caught my fiancé Julio protecting his mistress. Worse, my adopted sister Billie framed me for stealing my own grandmother's heirloom earrings just to play the victim in front of New York's elite. I refused to be their stepping stone and projected the evidence of Julio's affair on the massive ballroom screen. In a rage, my father cursed me, and my mother slapped me across the face so hard my mouth bled. During the ensuing physical struggle, my adopted sister, the mistress, and I all plunged into the freezing outdoor swimming pool. My fiancé desperately swam to save his mistress, while my own brother rushed to pull my adopted sister above the water. I stopped kicking and let my heavy, soaked clothes pull me down to the bottom of the black pool. Why did my own flesh and blood treat me like garbage? After a mysterious bodyguard pulled me from the water, I watched my family frantically wrap the other two women in warm blankets. I didn't shed a single tear. "I am no longer a part of this family. I never want to see any of you again." I publicly canceled the engagement, turned my back on the wealthy estate, and walked away into the freezing winter night.

I was chosen by the strongest alpha in the pack. I was marked as his mate, bound by a bond that was supposed to last forever. But when the moon was full and the pack watched, he rejected me publicly, brutally, without a single word of explanation. They said I was worthless. They said I wasn't his. They said I was nothing. So I ran. Years later, I return stronger, determined to prove them wrong... and to reclaim the life that was stolen from me. But fate has other plans. The alpha who rejected me is now forced to face the consequences of his choice and the bond he tried to break is screaming for me like never before. He wants me back. But I'm no longer the weak girl he discarded. Now, I'm the woman who can either destroy him... or make him beg for the one thing he never deserved to lose.

I transmigrated into a popular werewolf romance novel, but I wasn't the heroine. I was Aaliyah Hunter, a frail, wolfless side character destined for a gruesome end. My real nightmare began when the heroine, Elaina, ran away to escape her Mating ceremony. To appease the furious rival pack and avoid a bloody war, my aunt, the Pack Luna, decided to offer me as the substitute bride. "You are wolfless and have no future here. You will be Elaina's Substitute Mate." In the original plot, the Alpha Heir was already psychotically obsessed with Elaina. He viewed the substitute as a disgusting usurper. If I went, I would face brutal abuse and eventually be thrown to mindless Rogues to be eaten alive. My aunt tried to crush me with her aura, demanding I repay the family by walking straight into a slaughterhouse. I refused to be a sacrificial lamb for Elaina's mess. I used my powerful Hunter Pack bloodline to threaten my aunt and sought refuge behind my iron-willed grandmother. I thought I had safely escaped the plot, ready to watch the other vicious branch family girls tear each other apart for the cursed crown. But everything changed when my cousin recklessly brought Kameron Cross, a terrifying, ascetic Lycan Lord, into our territory. The moment his scent of biting cedar and first snow hit my senses, my supposedly wolfless body reacted with a violent, overwhelming physical surge. I wasn't supposed to have a mate, yet this untouchable apex predator was suddenly walking right toward my courtyard.

For five years, I lived a beautiful lie. I was Aliana Hughes, the cherished wife of the city's most feared Mafia Capo and the beloved daughter of the Don. I believed my arranged marriage had blossomed into love. On my birthday, my husband promised me the amusement park. Instead, I found him there with his other family, celebrating the fifth birthday of the son I never knew he had. I overheard their plan. My husband called me a "naive fool," a placeholder to legitimize his secret son. The ultimate betrayal wasn't his affair, but the sight of my own father's car parked across the street. My family wasn't just aware; they were the architects of my ruin. Back home, I found the proof: a secret photo album of my husband's other family posing with my parents, and records showing my father had bankrolled the entire deception. They had even drugged me on weekends so he could play happy family. The grief didn't break me. It turned into something cold and sharp. I was a ghost in a life that was never mine, and a ghost has nothing to lose. I copied every damning file onto a USB drive. As they celebrated their perfect day, I sent a courier with my parting gift: a recording of their treachery. While their world burned, I walked toward the airport, ready to erase myself and start over.

Elizbeth married the wealthy heir Carlton Wilkinson to save her grandfather's life's work. But on their wedding night, instead of a loving husband, she faced a cold tyrant. He forced her to sign a brutal prenup, stripped her of all family rights, and banished her to a dingy guest room. He was convinced she was just a pathetic, gold-digging liar. When a catastrophic pain attack drove Carlton to smash his own head against the wall, Elizbeth rushed in to save him using her specialized acupuncture. She risked her life to calm his spasming nerves. But the moment he woke up, he nearly choked her to death. He threw her against the wall, bleeding and bruised, accusing her of using cheap parlor tricks to poison him. The next morning, his greedy relatives openly mocked her cheap clothes, waiting like vultures for Carlton to drop dead so they could steal his fortune. Elizbeth was humiliated and terrified, but she soon discovered a classified secret. Carlton was a former Delta Force operator slowly going mad from an undetectable weaponized biotoxin. The poison made him paranoid and violent. He would rather die in agony than accept help from a woman he despised. Begged by his desperate grandfather, Elizbeth knew she had to cure him in the shadows. At 1:00 AM, she slipped a heavy, odorless sedative into his water and sneaked into his pitch-black bedroom to begin the detox. But as her silver needle hovered over his skin, a massive hand shot out and pinned her violently to the mattress. "How much did they pay you to poison me?" he hissed in the dark, his eyes wide awake and blazing with murderous fury.

Alpha Samson is the most ruthless alpha's around and has the most powerful pack in the world-Blackthorn. Runours cascade around about him, and his wolf, Savage, who is the biggest anyone has ever seen, will rain down on all who go against them. The only thing they are missing is their mate. What happens when all alphas are going to a pack to celebrate the coming of an new alpha, who has only barely turned twelve. Things don't look what they seem, until the luring scent mixed with blood sends Alpha Samson to the cells where he and his beast finds their mate, chained to the wall all bloody and broken. All hell breaks lose. Alora, half wolf and half witch, charged for a crime she never did. What happens when the damaged little woman meets the ruthless alpha who happens to be his mate? When recovering with her mate, things change and all Alora has ever known is a lie of what she is and more. Secrets come out and all Alora and Alpha Samson want is to know the truth and revenge, taking back the pack that is hers to begin with.

Aubree Hamilton was the top-tier executive assistant to Wall Street's most ruthless titan, Beck Franco. A month ago, she made a catastrophic mistake and spent the night in his bed. Thinking she had erased the mistake with a morning-after pill, she panicked upon his return and lied about being engaged to push him away. But Beck, a man who despised disloyalty above all else, immediately suspended her and ordered her escorted out of the building. Her nightmare only escalated when her toxic ex-boyfriend attacked her on the street, tearing her purse open and exposing the empty morning-after pill box to the public—and to Beck, who was watching from his penthouse. After having his security rescue her, Beck trapped her in his car, ruthlessly tearing apart her fake engagement. Later in her apartment, the suffocating tension between them almost ignited into a kiss, but a violent wave of nausea suddenly hit Aubree. She shoved him away with all her strength and violently threw up in the bathroom. Beck took it as the ultimate physical disgust. He walked out, deeply humiliated and dangerously obsessed, unleashing his resources to investigate her every move. Left alone and trembling, Aubree finally checked the crushed white box. The pill she took had expired a month ago. Staring at the two bright pink lines on the pregnancy test, she made a desperate vow: Beck Franco could never know she was carrying his child, and she had to disappear before he found out.

I was a broke freelance copywriter, tortured for three sleepless nights by an impossible corporate client. Needing to vent, I typed out a wild, highly inappropriate rant mocking the brand's stiff heritage. But in my exhausted, sleep-deprived blur, I accidentally sent the massive block of text to the wrong chat. The recipient wasn't my friend. It was Emerson Beard, the elite, ruthless brand consultant I was supposed to desperately network with. I waited for the professional execution, terrified of the massive five-figure penalty fee hanging over my head. Instead, he didn't block me. He critiqued my unhinged draft. He saved my career through late-night, encrypted phone calls, his deep, commanding voice becoming my only lifeline. But when I heard a woman with a sultry French accent knocking on his hotel door during our call, my ugly jealousy flared. I yelled at him and hung up, completely humiliating myself. I thought I was just a pathetic, annoying workaholic interrupting his romantic getaway. But he texted back to clarify he was entirely single, and in the process, realized I was actually twenty-five, not a fresh-out-of-school teenager like he had assumed. The cold, distant mentor instantly vanished. In his place was a man radiating a raw, aggressive, and predatory energy that bled right through the screen. "Texting is too inefficient. The full integration requires face-to-face communication." He dropped a location pin for an ultra-exclusive Manhattan club, demanding I meet him to save my contract. Wearing a desperately bought emerald silk dress, I pushed open the heavy oak door, stepping right into the trap of a man who had just taken off his leash.

For three years, Adriene Rodgers gave up her brilliant Wall Street career to be the perfect, devoted wife to billionaire Dallin Morales. But one night, she overheard him talking to his lawyer, a confession that shattered her world. "Adriene is exactly what I need her to be. A perfect social shield to keep the cameras busy so Elaina can live in peace." Elaina was his late brother's widow. Dallin coldly admitted that touching his wife made him physically sick, and he only stomached it by closing his eyes and thinking of Elaina. From that moment, the nightmare escalated. Elaina framed Adriene at every turn—slashing Adriene's beloved dog to death and throwing herself into a pool to play the victim. Dallin blindly believed the widow. He shoved Adriene so hard she cracked her head open on the marble deck, leaving her bleeding on the ground while he tenderly carried Elaina away. The ultimate betrayal came when Adriene's father went into sudden cardiac failure. Desperate, she begged Dallin for the life-saving hospital funds. Instead, Dallin ruthlessly froze every single one of her bank accounts. "Go get on your knees and apologize to Elaina. Do that, and I will unfreeze your cards." Standing in the freezing rain while Dallin's Rolls-Royce sped off to comfort Elaina's fake panic attack, Adriene's heart finally turned to ice. How could she have wasted three years of devotion on a man who would use her dying father as a bargaining chip for a manipulative parasite? She didn't shed another tear. After borrowing money to save her father, she secretly signed the divorce papers and left them in a Hermès anniversary box on his desk. Then, she pulled out her old resume and sent it directly to his biggest corporate rivals. The submissive wife was dead, and it was time to burn his empire to the ground.

My baby daughter died in the cold hospital, and I agreed to donate her heart to save another pup. I brought her ashes home in a small wooden box, seeking comfort from my mate. But when I returned to the packhouse, I found a massive celebration. My Alpha mate wasn't away on patrol; he was throwing a grand Naming Ceremony for his sister's newborn. He didn't even know our daughter was dead. "Give Lyra the gift. Now." He impatiently demanded I hand over the box in my arms. When his sister's son tried to snatch it, I pushed him away to protect my baby's ashes. His sister immediately screamed, accusing me of trying to hurt her children out of jealousy. Without asking a single question, my mate grabbed my wrist, ready to smash the box to teach me a lesson. To save my daughter's remains, I had to drop to the floor, bare my neck in ultimate submission, and lie that it was just my late father's relics. He was disgusted by my tears. Later, when I tried to jump off the balcony to end my pain, he pulled me back—not out of love, but because my suicide would ruin his perfect party. He locked me in my room and ordered the maids to force me into a bright red dress for the evening feast. Looking at the red silk that mocked my bleeding heart, my despair finally died, replaced by a cold, venomous hatred. I tucked a white funeral flower into my hair and walked out the door. This time, I was going to turn their joyous celebration into a living hell.

Hannah came home under a false identity, ready to keep her head down and avoid trouble. Then a near-drowning opened her eyes, and the family she had wanted gave her nothing but disappointment. She severed every tie, shed the disguise, and rose in revenge as a miracle doctor, brilliant hacker, and feared underworld ruler. Shock followed her family at every turn. Her parents regretted everything. Her eldest brother clung desperately to the bond of their shared blood, while her second brother gave up his entire fortune just to earn her forgiveness. Her third brother offered up his own body for a surgery-all to save her. But Hannah stayed cold and built her empire alone. Only one deadly rival refused to be ignored. "I was hired to kill you, mister." "Then take my heart, too."

Diana slipped on the penthouse stairs, her body emptying out as she miscarried her first baby. Gasping in a pool of her own blood, she called her husband, Curtis, begging for an ambulance. "Stop being dramatic and call the house doctor. I don't have time for your tantrums right now." He coldly hung up, and later forced her to put on a diamond necklace and attend a high-society dinner while she was actively losing their child. At the party, his mother and sister publicly mocked her pale face, while Curtis watched with absolute disgust. When she finally collapsed, he dragged her to his car, only to kick her out and abandon her on a freezing, dark highway in the middle of the night. His mistress, Carla, had faked a panic attack and claimed she was bleeding too, so he rushed to the hospital to comfort his lover, leaving his wife to bleed out on the asphalt. For three years, Diana had endured this hell, believing she had trapped him into marriage to save her father's dying company. She couldn't understand how Curtis could worship a manipulative fraud who stole the credit for saving his life years ago, while treating his real wife like garbage. But after surviving the night, Diana discovered the devastating truth: her father had willingly gone to federal prison just to buy her the protection of the Alston family name. Stripped of her illusions, Diana signed the divorce papers, giving up every single penny. She was done being their silent victim. It was time to remind them exactly who Diana Wilcox was.

For three years, nineteen-year-old Ella Campbell rotted in a freezing psychiatric isolation room. Her billionaire family didn't visit her once, only pulling her out today to force her to publicly apologize to Ashlyn, the perfect sister who had framed her. At Ashlyn's glamorous engagement gala, Ella was treated worse than a stray dog and forced to watch her childhood sweetheart propose to her sister. When Ella showed no jealousy, her brother Ivan dragged her onto a dark balcony and nearly choked her to death. Her mother didn't even check if Ella was breathing, merely ordering a makeup artist to paint thick concealer over the dark purple handprints on Ella's neck so the family's stock price wouldn't drop. Standing under the blinding stage lights in a shapeless gray dress, facing three hundred mocking Wall Street executives, Ella was supposed to be the broken, obedient psycho the Campbells needed. "I am deeply sorry for the pain I caused." She was supposed to end the apology there and bow to her abusers, but Ella didn't shed a single tear. "My only regret is that I didn't insist on waiting for the police to arrive that night. I deeply regret that I didn't demand a full, legal toxicology report to prove to everyone exactly what happened." As the ballroom erupted into suspicious whispers and her paralyzed twin brother finally saw the violent bruises hidden beneath her makeup, Ella's counterattack against the Campbell family officially began.

To save my father's failing workshop from ruthless loan sharks, I sold one year of my life. I signed a fake marriage contract with Cameron Fox, an icy billionaire who needed a wife to pacify his sick grandmother. The rules were strict: it was purely a commercial transaction, with absolutely no physical contact and no emotional attachments. Soon after, that cold hearted man seemed different to me. Wait, is he pursuing me?

I was the despised adopted daughter of the Sanders family, hiding behind heavy gothic makeup and enduring their daily disgust. The day my adoptive father died in a severe car crash, my adoptive mother and stepsister didn't even bother to call me. Instead, while his body was still warm, my mother filed a multi-million dollar life insurance claim. "I am not feeding a useless freak for another day. Pack your trash and get out." She kicked me out into the freezing rain, but that wasn't the worst of it. My stepsister Cornelia stole my greatest secret. Five years ago, I saved the life of Fidel Vaughan, a ruthless billionaire heir, from a burning estate. Cornelia claimed my identity, accepted a million-dollar reward, and secured a marriage proposal from him, burning my only proof to ashes. They thought I was just a helpless, pathetic high schooler they could discard and replace. But when I hacked the police files, I discovered my father's crash wasn't an accident. It was a targeted hit, and the Vaughan Group had hijacked the traffic cameras to cover it up. I washed off the ugly black makeup, shedding the disguise of a pathetic outcast. I am Spectre, the world's most elusive hacker and underground doctor. I intercepted the billionaire heir's heavily armed convoy in the dead of night. They thought they could steal my life and murder my father, but now, I hold the needle that controls Fidel Vaughan's sanity, and I will make them all pay.

"You can't escape me, Aurora. You are mine!" The Alpha King's roar echoed through the palace walls. But Aurora just tightened her grip on the blade hidden beneath her cloak. She would never-never-give herself to the monster who murdered her father. Even if the Moon Goddess cursed her to be his mate. *** Aurora Regalia once had everything-a loving father, a prosperous pack, and a future that glittered with promise. Her father, the king, even chose her a mate: Logan Charming. Powerful. Charismatic. Cursed. She thought he was her destiny. Then she watched him tear her father's head from his shoulders. One night. One betrayal. Her entire family, slaughtered. Her pack, reduced to ashes. Aurora jumped off a cliff that night-not to die, but to survive. To become something her enemies would never see coming. An assassin. A ghost. A blade wrapped in silk. For years, she trained in the shadows, fueled by one single purpose: revenge. Blood for blood. She would make Logan Charming suffer the way she had suffered. She would carve his heart out and feel nothing. But fate had a cruel sense of humor. The Moon Goddess looked down at her shattered daughter and laughed. Because the man who destroyed her life? The monster who wore her father's blood on his hands? He was her fated mate. Now Aurora stands at a crossroads she never asked for. Every instinct screams for vengeance. Every fiber of her being recoils at the bond pulling her toward him. But Logan? He doesn't care about her hatred. He doesn't care about her blade. "You can run, little mate," he whispers, crimson eyes gleaming in the dark. "But I will always find you." And when he does? He won't just cage her body. He'll claim her soul.

When gifted cellist Vivienne Aurel inherits her late father's catastrophic $4.2 million debt, she expects to lose everything. She doesn't expect the debt to be bought by Caspian Vane, the most feared private equity magnate in New York. Caspian doesn't want to ruin her; he wants her to work exclusively for him as the artistic director of his new cultural foundation for eighteen months. Forced into his world under a binding agreement, Vivienne prepares to fight against a cold, transactional cage. But as the intense, quiet proximity between them begins to blur the lines of their contract, she discovers a terrifying truth: the man who now owns her future has been watching her from the shadows long before she ever knew his name.