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Some truths were meant to stay buried. To uncover the past, she must become the world's greatest threat. In a world where 60% of the population is born with powers they can name, control, and define, Aile Tsukia is something else entirely. A blank space, She carries a hollow heart and a power without a name... one that doesn't just destroy, but drags the world's oldest nightmares out of the dark and into the present. She remembers nothing of who she truly is. Only the cold edge of vengeance. Only the quiet, consuming wrath that haunts her every dream. Now, she has set out on a journey together with people whom she met and to find who she really is by uncovering the past, searching for remnants of her missing memories, and striving to become strong enough to unleash her power without limits. The government buried the truth for a century. Now, it's clawing its way back to the surface.

To keep her art scholarship, Vesper had to complete a life-size woodcarving for her final project. But her randomly assigned model was Slade Forrester, the arrogant basketball captain who had shattered her grandfather's priceless antique carving tools freshman year without a single apology. When Vesper blackmailed him with a ten-thousand-dollar property damage claim to force him into the studio, Slade mercilessly turned the tables. "I'll be your model, but you're going to do something for me in return." He demanded she carve a custom piece to help him woo a girl who hated his guts, and forced Vesper to act as his personal spy. The target turned out to be Vesper's own roommate. To make matters worse, Slade caught onto Vesper's terrifyingly deep, secret crush on his polite roommate, Julian. He ruthlessly weaponized her anxiety, mocking her stuttering panic and trapping her in a twisted mutual-blackmail deal that left her completely suffocated. Exhausted, humiliated, and desperate to escape this nightmare, Vesper logged onto the university portal at 2 AM to register for a quiet online elective where she wouldn't have to see anyone. But the system lagged, locking her out of every normal class and leaving only one open seat in a brutal varsity physical conditioning course. With her required credits and scholarship on the line, she had absolutely no choice but to hit register. Then the syllabus loaded on her screen. The Teaching Assistant for the class was Slade Forrester.

After five years in a maximum-security women's prison, Abbey Dudley was finally released. Her billionaire brother came to pick her up in a luxury SUV, but it wasn't to welcome her home. Five years ago, her adopted sister Emmie pushed a girl down a flight of concrete stairs. To protect their precious golden child, Abbey's biological parents forced her to take the bloody trophy and the blame, locking her in a cage at seventeen. While they took Emmie to Paris Fashion Week, Abbey was gagged with bleach-soaked towels and her leg was shattered by an iron pipe. They froze her eighteen-million-dollar trust fund and secretly transferred every cent to Emmie. On the day of her release, they dragged her to a grand ballroom filled with New York's elite. They forced her to wear her yellowed, frayed high school uniform, intending to publicly humiliate her as a degenerate gambling addict and an academic failure to highlight Emmie's perfection. Abbey stood there with a ruined leg and a hollowed-out soul. How could her own flesh and blood strip a Stanford-bound genius of her perfect grades, hand them to an adopted stranger, and throw their biological daughter to the wolves without a second thought? "Since you surgically removed the facts that make you monsters, I invite everyone here to verify the truth." Under the horrified gasps of the crowd, Abbey exposed their forged evidence and shattered their perfect facade. Leaving her terrified parents and screaming brother in the ruins of their reputation, she walked out into the cold night, gripping a single silver embroidery needle. She was going to carve out every drop of blood they took from her, with interest.

I spent the night with a stranger... Who got me pregnant... And turned out to be my boss... Whoops, sorry, did I say "boss"? I meant a MOB boss. To be fair, I didn't know he was my boss when I slept with him. I thought he was just the kind stranger offering me a place to stay. But one night in Misha Orlov's hotel room got me way more than I bargained for. It got me champagne that tasted like starlight. Satin sheets as soft as a dream. And a man with silver eyes who showed me how it felt to come undone. And then, in the morning... He was gone. That's I needed to get my life together anyway. After all, my ex-not-quite-husband (it's a long story) just emptied all our bank accounts and disappeared, taking my home and my money and my job with him. So I'm starting from a blank slate. I find myself a new apartment. A new job. And I put both Misha and my husband behind me. At least, I thought I did. Until Day 1 of orientation. When I learn that Misha Orlov is my new boss. That's bad enough. What's worse is what came next. A car crash. A doctor's appointment. And two pieces of unsettling news. Congratulations, the doctor says. You're pregnant. Congratulations, Misha says. You and I are getting married.

At my million-dollar wedding to the Hoffman heir, the priest was interrupted by a ringing phone. My groom, Elijah, didn't silence it. He answered it right at the altar, yanked his arm from my grasp, and walked out because his "true love" Jalyn needed him. I was left standing alone in front of three hundred elite guests, blinded by mocking camera flashes. My own mother rolled her eyes in disgust, later threatening to freeze my trust fund and sell me to a notorious playboy to recoup her losses. Elijah even had the nerve to call me, demanding I take the blame for the canceled wedding to save his PR, while live news feeds showed him cradling a fragile Jalyn in the hospital. I had spent two years bending over backward to be his perfect bride, only to be discarded like trash. What made it sicker was finding out that Jalyn's sudden "medical emergency" was actually a ruptured cyst caused by having vigorous sex with Elijah right before he walked down the aisle. I refused to let them destroy me. Kicking off my six-inch heels, I stepped down from the altar and walked straight to the back row where Cristian Lowe sat. He was the ruthless iceberg of Wall Street and Elijah's most terrifying rival. I looked up at his sharp jawline and asked the craziest question of my life. "Will you marry me?" He stood up, his dark eyes locking onto mine. "As you wish."

I died in the apocalypse, only to wake up as Kenzie Banks, a bankrupt high-society monster in an interstellar beast-world. But before I could even process my new reality, a cold AI voice informed me of my impending death. "Your contract beast-husbands possess the legal right to execute you at the end of the two-month trial period." I rushed to the basement and saw the horrific truth. The original Kenzie had starved them, whipped them with thermal blades, sent their brothers to die as cannon fodder, and framed the youngest to rot in a maximum-security prison. Now, these lethal, broken men were methodically planning to rip my organs out the second the contract dissolved. To make matters worse, she had squandered her fortune on a man who despised her, leaving me two million credits in debt and facing imminent exile to the deadly wastelands. I had survived rotting zombies on Earth, only to be trapped in a weak, universally hated body, doomed to be butchered by the very people I was supposed to call family. Why did I have to pay the ultimate price for a psychotic woman's deadly sins? I refused to just sit around and wait for my execution. Tapping into my apocalyptic subspace inventory, I hauled out military-grade rations, healed their bleeding wounds, and slammed a legally binding divorce contract on the table. If I wanted to survive this sixty-day countdown, I had to turn my executioners into my loyal allies—starting with breaking the husband she framed out of prison.

For three years, Christina was Jackson Booker’s flawless executive assistant by day and his secret lover by night. That was until she overheard him planning his high-profile marriage to heiress Carson Wall, casually telling his partners that Christina would be easily disposed of. "Once the merger is finalized, I'll cut her a severance check. It's a non-issue." When she tried to resign, Jackson tore up her letter, forcefully assaulted her in his private elevator, and declared she was his property. The nightmare only escalated. At a corporate gala, Jackson literally handed her over to a sleazy, violent client just to secure a logistics contract. "Mr. Boggs is a VIP guest, Christina. Don't disappoint him." While Jackson walked away, the client dragged her into a hotel room and attempted to assault her. She barely escaped with her life, saved only by Jackson's powerful rival, Gaston Carter. But the ultimate humiliation came the next morning. Jackson's new fiancée, Carson, cornered Christina in the office. Carson knew everything. She deliberately pressed her manicured fingers into the fresh, dark bruises on Christina's shoulder, smiling sweetly. "You are a stress-relief toy, Christina. A dirty little secret he keeps on the payroll. And now that I am here, your playtime is over." Christina couldn't understand how the man she loved could treat her like a disposable animal, allowing his bride to torture her for sport. As she sat on the cold floor, her phone buzzed with a text from Gaston. "Let me know when you are ready to stop being a victim." The crushing despair in her chest ignited into a hot, burning fury. She picked up her phone and typed back. "I'm ready. Where do we meet?"

My fiancé, Jameson Blair, married my twin sister today. For five years, I was a placeholder, a substitute for the woman he truly wanted, and I pretended not to know. Today, she came back with a story of terminal cancer and a dying wish to marry him. It was a perfect lie, and he chose to believe it, shattering my world with three simple words: "She's Haleigh." They left me on the sidewalk, an outcast from my own blood. My brothers, who once promised to protect me, celebrated the woman who broke me. They moved my things to a guest room, making space for their prodigal sister. That night, Haleigh gave me a "welcome home" gift—a box with a brown recluse spider inside. As the venom coursed through me, my family rushed to her side, calling my agony "a little spider bite." They left me convulsing on the floor. Later, they whipped me for a crime I didn't commit, hung me off a cliff, and left me for dead. My body is a roadmap of their love. Each scar, each broken bone, is a testament to their betrayal. They believed her lies, but their real crime was never truly seeing me. As I clung to that cliff, bleeding and broken, a single thought consumed me: Isabella Douglas died here tonight. Now, Isabella Hale would be born from the ashes.

Seraphina was the greatest mage of her generation. Then she saw her future: betrayed, broken, and left for dead. She woke up with a new plan: do absolutely nothing. Trip on flat floors. Cry magical floods. Tell professors her only goal is "three meals and eight hours of sleep." Let Elara steal her glory. Let the system target someone else. She just wants to nap. But no one will let her fail. The strictest professor calls her breakdown "enlightenment." The potion genius turns her scribbles into "divine wisdom." The more she acts like trash, the more they worship her. She didn't choose to be a legend. She chose to be useless. Why is that so hard?

I was a New York photographer, but I woke up under the brutal sun of the African savanna. Worse, I wasn't human. I was trapped in the body of a male cheetah, with two starving cubs clinging to my fur, telepathically calling me "Mom." But I am a real man! To keep my adopted sons alive, I had to fight hyenas and dodge rogue lions. But the real nightmare was my bizarre survival mechanism. Under extreme threat, I would uncontrollably shift back into my human form—stark, undeniably naked. I was forced to sprint across the plains with my bare skin exposed, carrying two cubs while escaping furious lionesses. I became a freak, the most confusing and humiliating legend of the animal kingdom. Covered in bloody scratches and mud, I was pushed to the brink of despair. Why was I thrown into this beast's body? Why did my only defense mechanism involve profound social death? Just when I barely survived a cliff dive to escape the lions, my path was blocked by two massive, highly intelligent prime male cheetahs. But the alpha, Bradley, didn't want to kill me for my territory. His intense gaze raked over my naked, bleeding human body with a dark, possessive hunger. "You are full of surprises." He purred smoothly, teaching me to magically summon a fur skirt before demanding I join his coalition. "Oh, you'll come to me. I guarantee it." Looking into his predatory eyes, I realized I was no longer just surviving the wild; I was the prey of a completely different kind of beast.

In the two years after I married Daniel Carter, my private photos had gone viral nine times, and Daniel had been taken into custody ten times. Because every time his mistress, Emily Morgan, was unhappy, she would leak my private photos all over the internet. I, Claire Parker, never let it slide. I reported every shady business Daniel was involved in and personally sent him behind bars. That lasted until an unexpected kidnapping. I took a bullet for him, one aimed straight at his heart, and he shielded me beneath his body, taking the brunt of the explosion for me. After we survived, the man who had always been so cold-blooded knelt before me, his voice hoarse beyond recognition. "Honey, let's leave the drama behind. I just want a peaceful life with you." Right in front of me, he ordered his men to send his mistress out of Northhaven and never let her appear before him again. In the third year after we reconciled, I carried my eight-month pregnant belly and brought him lunch. But on the way there, I was hit by a car. The hospital issued three critical condition notices, yet they still could not save the baby. Daniel rushed over, but he did not even spare me a glance. Instead, he pulled the woman who had hit me and her child into his arms, soothing her in a low voice. "Don't be scared. I'll protect you and the child." Only then did I realize that the woman who had hit me was the very mistress he had sent away three years ago. When I demanded an explanation, Daniel brushed it off as if it were nothing. "She didn't do it on purpose. Don't take it out on her and her son. You can have a baby another time." At that moment, I finally understood. They had gotten back together long ago. I looked at him and nodded. "Don't worry, this will never happen again."

I was engaged to Gorden Barron, fully believing I was about to marry the love of my life. Then his secret lover, Bettye, was diagnosed with aplastic anemia. Gorden fell to his knees and begged me to be her bone marrow donor. "Angie, I know I messed up, but she's dying. You're the only match." I agreed, wanting to be the bigger person. But the moment the harvest was over, the nightmare began. A severe infection set in, and my fever wouldn't break. Gorden's visits became shorter, then stopped entirely. As I lay in the sterile hospital room, my bones aching and my body failing, I scrolled through my phone and saw his latest post. Gorden and Bettye were tanned and healthy, sipping cocktails on a yacht in the Mediterranean. The caption read: "Grateful for second chances. My true love." I threw my phone across the room and screamed until my throat bled. I was nothing but a human blood bag to them, completely discarded the moment I was empty. I nearly died in that cold room, saved only by a top-tier specialist someone secretly paid millions to fly in. Five years later, I've finally returned to New York. I didn't come back to get revenge on Gorden. He isn't worth my time. I came back for the man who secretly held my hand and wept by my deathbed—Gorden's cold, untouchable older brother, Dalton. This time, I'm going to make him mine.

My billionaire husband, Cooper, was thirty minutes late to my father's funeral. When the heavy cathedral doors finally opened, he wasn't there to comfort me. He was tightly shielding his mistress, Celeste, under his umbrella, treating her like a fragile lily while I stood alone in my black mourning dress. The whispers in the pews were deafening, but they were nothing compared to the truth I soon uncovered. Cooper hadn't just humiliated me—he had secretly taken my father's life-saving spot in a medical clinical trial and given it to Celeste's family. My father died gasping for air because of him. Days later, while I was shivering in the ER with a 103-degree fever, I saw Cooper sneaking into the VIP maternity ward. He was holding Celeste, his face glowing with the ecstatic joy of a man about to become a father. For three years, I swallowed my pride to be his perfect, obedient wife, only to let his elite friends openly mock me to my face. "You were just keeping the seat warm until the real queen came back." He let my father die, hid all our marital assets in offshore trusts, and made me take birth control every single morning, claiming he wasn't ready for kids. I didn't scream, and I didn't let him see me break. Instead, I hired Manhattan's most ruthless divorce lawyer, smiled sweetly as I handed Cooper his coat at home, and began secretly gathering the evidence to burn his entire empire to the ground.

Xander Savage plays with footballs. Freya Woods plays with hearts. The other plays to win, one plays for fun. Xander is the campus football champion, gentle, gorgeous, misunderstood. Everyone thinks he's a player, but he's actually the only good boy in school. Freya is the campus play girl, bold, wild. When fate throws them together, sparks fly...Neither knows their souls have met before...long ago, in another life, where they loved passionately and broke disastrously. But this time? They're destined to rewrite their ending...can they actually re write the stars? LOVE ME LIKE A CHAMPION is a reincarnation campus romance about a boy who loves too deeply and a girl who's terrified to be loved.

The only thing more dangerous than the game is the man guarding the crease. Lyon Navarro has spent his entire career tearing down the San Diego Stormbreakers. As the city's most ruthless journalist, he's made an art form out of exposing the Alphas' volatile tempers and their scandalous lives off the rink. He's the man they love to hate-until a desperate management team offers him the biggest paycheck of his life to fix their image. The assignment? Tame the six most notorious werewolves in the league. But Lyon isn't just dealing with professional athletes; he's stepping into a den of apex predators who have been waiting for him to cross their territory. And they have no intention of playing nice. Rafael Stone, the team's intense, iron-willed captain, has made one thing clear: if Lyon wants to manage the pack, he's going to have to survive them. But between the locker room tension, the high-stakes pressure of the season, and the way the pack's gazes feel like a physical brand on his skin, Lyon realizes he's no longer just reporting the story-he's the one being hunted. In a world of adrenaline, cold ice, and raw, lupine desire, Lyon is about to discover that the line between enemy and lover is thinner than a skate blade. Six Alphas. One PR strategist. And a season that's about to get very, very hot. Beyond the Ice is a high-stakes, slow-burn MM hockey werewolf romance. Expect intense power dynamics, sizzling tension, and a pack that doesn't just want to win the cup-they want to claim their man.

- Raka, an ordinary high school student, dies of exhaustion and is reincarnated with his entire class into a fantasy world. There, everyone receives a class and a blessing from the gods to start a new life. While his friends acquire powerful classes like knight, mage, healer, and assassin, Raka is given the class considered the weakest and most shameful: the One Tree Branch. - Considered a burden and a threat to the group, Raka was betrayed and hunted by his own friends on their first day of arrival. Cornered in the Forbidden Forest, a place known as a region full of monsters and death, Raka discovered his class' true ability: Devour Root, the power to absorb the attributes, energy, and even skills of anyone he kills. - Since then, his life changed completely. - To survive, Raka is forced to kill monsters, bounty hunters, and the people who hunt him. Each victory makes him grow stronger, while his class weapon slowly evolves from a lowly twig into an increasingly terrifying weapon. - In the midst of his struggle for survival, Raka meets Nara, a mysterious girl wielding two daggers who has her own agenda in the Forbidden Forest. Together with Nara, Raka enters the Core Zone, the mysterious center of the forest filled with ancient ruins, artifacts, and a dangerous organization called the White Council. - There, Raka discovers that his class resonates with a mysterious entity called the False World Tree, a giant tree that is the source of the anomalies in the Forbidden Forest. - The deeper he unravels the secrets of the False World Tree, the more it becomes clear that the One Tree Trunk class is not a failed class, but rather a forbidden fragment of the true World Tree-a power that has long been sealed away because it was thought to be capable of destroying the balance of the world. - Now Raka is at a crossroads: take revenge on his friends who betrayed him, or pursue the truth behind the World Tree fragment that is now directly connected to him. - But one thing is certain, the more power he absorbs, the closer he gets to something far more dangerous than death: losing himself and becoming the new vessel for the World Tree.

In my past life, the Cerberus strain leaked, turning the world into a blood-soaked hell of rotting flesh and mutated monsters. I thought my boyfriend Declan and my best friend Hailee would have my back as we fled the quarantine zone. Instead, when the surging crowd of the infected cornered us, they didn't hesitate. They shoved me backward into the horde just to buy themselves three seconds to run. As I fell into the mud, I saw them fleeing without a single backward glance. "She's dead weight anyway!" Hailee screamed. "Just keep running, she'll distract them!" Declan yelled back. I was torn apart, feeling the agonizing tear of rotting teeth sinking into my neck and the hot spray of my own blood. Before the apocalypse, my greedy uncle had locked away my ten-million-dollar trust fund, leaving me with nothing but a fake boyfriend who only wanted me for my money. Until my last breath, I couldn't understand how the people I loved most could trade my life for a head start. Why did I blindly trust them? Why didn't I see through their perfectly choreographed lies? Opening my eyes again, the stench of decaying flesh vanished, replaced by the sterile smell of my college dorm room. Hailee and Declan were standing over my bed, faking tears of concern over my meningitis fever. I was back exactly seven days before the world ended, and my spatial vault ability had come back with me. This time, I'm extorting my uncle for every cent, hoarding the city's supplies, and leaving them all to rot.

I was the Architect who built the digital fortress for the most feared Don in New York. To the world, I was Brendan Wiggins’s silent, elegant Queen. But then my burner phone buzzed under the dinner table. It was a photo from his mistress: a positive pregnancy test. "Your husband is celebrating right now," the caption read. "You are just the furniture." I looked across the table at Brendan. He smiled and held my hand, lying to my face without blinking. He thought he owned me because he saved my life ten years ago. He told her I was just "functional." That I was a barren asset he kept around to look respectable, while she carried his legacy. He thought I would accept the disrespect because I had nowhere else to go. He was wrong. I didn't want to divorce him—you don't divorce a Don. And I didn't want to kill him. That was too easy. I wanted to erase him. I liquidated fifty million dollars from the offshore accounts only I could access. I destroyed the servers I had built. Then, I contacted a black-market chemist for a procedure called "Tabula Rasa." It doesn't kill the body. It wipes the mind clean. A total hard reset of the soul. On his birthday, while he was out celebrating his bastard son, I drank the vial. When he finally came home to find the empty house and the melted wedding ring, he realized the truth. He could burn the world down looking for me, but he would never find his wife. Because the woman who loved him no longer existed.

I sold myself to a paralyzed billionaire to pay for my mother's life support. But my step-sister staged a photo of me with another man, making my new husband think I was a cheating gold-digger. In a jealous rage, Curtis locked me in a dark panic room. While trapped, my step-mother sent a picture of her hand on my mom's ventilator plug, forcing me to sneak out to a black-market clinic. There, they forcibly drained 800cc of my blood to sell. Half-dead and in severe shock, I dragged myself back home, only for Curtis to confront me with another staged photo of my ex grabbing me outside the clinic. Believing I had snuck out to see a lover, he ordered his guards to throw my blood-drained body into the freezing wine cellar. "Please, don't put me down there! I'll die!" I begged and clung to his wheelchair, but he just kicked my hand away in absolute disgust. In the pitch-black, 55-degree room, my organs slowly shut down. I didn't understand why I had to endure this hell, or why he was so blinded by his own fragile ego that he never even noticed how chalk-white my face was. Hours later, his precious sister needed an emergency transfusion, and they dragged my icy body out to drain me again. But when the doctor rolled up my sleeve and exposed the horrific, bruised puncture wound, Curtis finally realized the truth. As he stared at my arm in absolute, paralyzed terror, the EKG machine attached to my chest flatlined.

After surviving years in the Alpha King's brutal prisons, I returned to my pack only to be stripped of my family home and exiled to a rotting cabin. I accepted the humiliation in silence, until I found a dying baby girl abandoned in a trash-filled alley. Taking her in awoke the terrifying, protective beast I had kept chained in my mind. The pack, fueled by rumors and a jealous woman's bruised ego, viewed us as abominations. They trespassed on my land to uncover my "dirty secrets," forcing me to build a massive stone fortress with my bare hands just to keep my daughter safe from their cruelty. We lived in isolated peace for years, until the day I took her outside the walls to visit my parents' graves. A convoy of royal Alphas arrived, and their Luna fell to her knees at my mother's cousin's grave, weeping and calling her "sister." I didn't understand. Why was my forgotten family connected to the royals? And why did Cassian Vargan, the most powerful Alpha in the world, freeze in absolute shock the moment he realized who I was? "You... are you Gideon Stone's son?" The bloody past I had buried under a mountain of stone had finally found me. I didn't answer him. I just pulled my daughter behind me and tightly gripped my knife, ready to slaughter a king if he took one more step.

After catching my fiancé cheating with my adoptive sister, I broke off our engagement on the spot. In retaliation, my abusive adoptive parents sold me to Kaelen Knight, the Lycan King, to clear our pack's debts. He was rumored to be a ruthless, reclusive monster who had been horribly crippled in a fire centuries ago. To ensure my absolute ruin, my sister planted fake love letters to my ex in my luggage and anonymously destroyed my university scholarship, cutting off my only escape route to the human world. "A wolfless whore. You planned to drug me," Kaelen sneered, looking at the fake evidence with absolute disgust. Believing I was a spy, my new husband had his guards throw me into the freezing woods with the Dire Wolves, leaving me to survive the night alone. I was just a broken, wolfless Omega, entirely at the mercy of a cruel, powerless Lycan and a family that wanted me dead. But I was wrong about him being powerless. One night, I accidentally saw him rise from his wheelchair, his tall frame radiating an overwhelming, lethal aura. He wasn't crippled at all. The secret I thought was my shield was actually a loaded gun pointed at my head. Trapped with a terrifying predator, I had to stop playing the victim and fight for my life.

Some chains are forged in iron. Others in desire. Sebastian Kol has existed for six centuries. Cursed to burn alive in his own skin every night he transforms into a beast even he cannot control. He wants one thing. Freedom. And after five centuries of searching, a prophecy finally gives it a name. Leilani Ravenwood. She carries the mark of the moon goddess on her skin and a prophecy that brands her as his salvation. Her blood silences his beast, and her touch sets him on fire. In the worst possible way. And in the best possible way. Furious at the hold she has over him, Sebastian takes her, strips her of everything, and bends her world until it breaks, determined to own what the goddess dared to use against him. What follows is dark and consuming. A monster who has never met his match, and a woman who proves to be it. But Leilani Ravenwood does not break easily. And somewhere between the hatred and the hunger, the punishment and the pull, the ancient beast begins to suspect the terrible truth. The woman born to be his salvation may already be his undoing, his poison and cure wearing the same skin. And he is running out of reasons to care.

Three women, three brothers, a single, crumpled dollar bill. Alina's world shatters the moment she's auctioned off-and claimed by the powerful Hawthorne brothers. Thrown into Adrian Hawthorne's cold, dangerous world, she becomes his to control... his to protect... and, terrifyingly, his to desire. He's ruthless, possessive, and hiding secrets that could destroy them both. But the deeper she falls into his world, the harder it becomes to tell if she's his prisoner-or something far more dangerous. Because the Hawthorne brothers don't just take. They keep. Viviane has spent her life surviving, so when Julian Hawthorne "buys" her freedom, she knows better than to trust it. Men like him don't save people-they collect them. But Julian isn't as simple as he pretends to be, and the deeper she's pulled into his world, the more dangerous it becomes to walk away. Especially when she realizes she might be the only thing he's ever been willing to fight for. Lena doesn't belong to anyone-and she intends to keep it that way. Brilliant, guarded, and hiding more than anyone suspects, she enters Lucien Hawthorne's world on her own terms. But Lucien doesn't play fair, and he doesn't let go. When her past comes crashing back, Lena is forced to face the one thing she's been running from: trusting someone who could destroy her... or save her. Three women. Three choices.Stay. Fight. Or burn it all down. Because being sold was only the beginning.

For eight years, I was the perfect, devoted partner to billionaire Andrew Blackburn. But outside his VIP lounge, I overheard the cold truth. "Katharine is just a PR shield," Andrew told his friends, laughing. "Alida is too fragile for the tabloids. Once the trust fund is secure, I'll make the prenup so draconian she'll run for the hills." Days later at a gala, Alida intentionally tripped me. As a thousand-pound steel chandelier plummeted toward us, Andrew's instincts took over. He lunged forward to shield Alida, violently shoving me backward to clear their path. He pushed me directly under the falling glass. Razor-sharp crystal shards exploded into my flesh. As I lay bleeding out on the marble floor, gasping for air, Andrew scooped up the completely unharmed Alida and carried her away. He didn't look back at me. Not even once. Later in the hospital, Alida deliberately tore at my IV needle. When my friend tried to stop her, Andrew stormed in, blindly defending his mistress. He shoved me so hard my weak body tumbled over the terrace ledge, plunging into a freezing fountain and ripping my fresh stitches wide open. Lying in the bloody water, looking up at the man I had loved for almost a decade, my heart turned to solid ice. When I woke up, I didn't cry, and I didn't beg for justice. I called the most ruthless liquidation lawyer in New York and signed a total Asset Stripping Agreement. Then, I booked a one-way flight to Paris, leaving behind a snapped wedding ring and a two-word note. "We're even."