THE LEGEND

Caged By My Alpha

Her father murdered his father! She was brought into his pack as retribution. She was to pay for the sins of her father and despite his hatred for her, he couldn't stop noticing her tiny smiles, and her pretty face. When Alpha Luka thought he would get over it, he realized she was his mate. How is he supposed to love the daughter of his father's murderer? How is he supposed to accept this fate? When he couldn't find an answer, he left just to avoid her. Now, Luka was done running. He's ready to claim Crystina as his mate but unfortunately, her heart already belonged to another.

His Personal Maid

“Why do you defy me, little dove?” He demanded and Desire was torn. Torn between pleasing her Master and bending one of the rules holding their region together. His blue eyes bored into hers for a while before Desire finally looked away again, waiting for her judgement, her dead judgement for breaking a rule “The first option is to have you killed by hanging, the second one is to send you to the Harem while the third one is to make you my private maid and you’re the only person who has the privilege of this rare chance. So, my dear little Dove, what do you say?” “I’ll pick the first option, let me die at stake or by hanging. Whichever option suits you, My lord but please just let me die a quick death” Desire pleased with a determined look on her face. A story of love, War, royalty and fate.

2:45 (Fire and Silk)

Alexis Norman left home to pursue a career that almost ended her, with a determination of never going back to her former life, she struggled to keep up to everything that life threw at her even if it hits her in the face. Until life threw right in her face, what she was always scared of. “I want you to tell me what you remember about that night, 2:45” He was looking in her eyes waiting for answers “If you stop calling me 2:45, maybe I’ll try to try and remember what I think you’re saying” “Why?”He asked while placing a strand of hair that had escaped back into place, he was being nice and she knew it was a facade. “Because I’m Alexis, my name is Alexis, not 2:45” He looked over at her angrily, grabbed a handful of her hair and slammed her head against the table before her. “2:45 was your call name at the club, you don’t have to pretend you didn’t know you were doomed from the start” Paul, Damon and Xavier all had one mission and that is to keep the circle moving and the only way they can do that is by making her 2:45 again and that will be the most torturous season where feelings will be put aside and life will become death.

Un-Till Christmas

Warning: I'm not good at story description so please open the book before you judge. Harry had the perfect type of life until he lost it June had never had the perfect life until she found it. When all hope was lost and every other person were not there for him, Harry had no other option but to approach his last option; June to be his eyes till Christmas and from there it leads to forever. Get on the ride you and please use your seatbelt. (Only Chapters 1-9 are available on Moboreader)

His Majesty

Richard and Vanessa are both two sides of a coin Name it anything ,they're opposite. But one thing brought them together, a string called fake date and another strengthened it ,a spring called surrogacy while another displayed it ,a bond called love. Be charmed and enticed by their love story. Read more from the Author on Booknet.com (Search Anastasia Musa) you’ll see other nice books under my profile. Kindly come and support me, thank you.

I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

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.

Divorced And Desired: The Betrayed Heiress No One Saw Coming

Janice had seen Karl's affection and felt his betrayal. On their anniversary, while she was in pain and bleeding, Karl left her on the street to see his lover. She bore it and tricked him into signing the divorce papers. "I want you gone!" After divorce, she reclaimed her status as a billionaire heiress, with her three brothers doting on her and making her a rich darling. When Karl saw what he'd thrown, he regretted it. He tore up the divorce papers. "I don't agree to the divorce!" Declan moved through high society as an untouchable man. Janice avoided him, but they kept meeting. At a party, her ex harassed her. Declan came and saved her. She thanked him, only for him to whisper, "Don't thank me. Marry me?" ***

Phoenix Mode, Activated: Burn Me Once, Watch Me Rise

Chelsey loved Brett for seven years and tried everything for a baby-doctors, IVF, surgeries. Then she found out he'd been dosing her food with contraceptives. She woke back at the fire years earlier and watched Brett carry another woman out, leaving Chelsey to choke in smoke. She realized he'd been reborn too-and picked his "true love." Chelsey walked away and married Julian, her friend's cousin and the hot firefighter who saved her; he gave her all his money the day they married. Brett scoffed... until Chelsey shone at an AI summit and Julian's real identity shocked him. Seeing her with twins and another baby coming, Brett begged, "Come back to me! Please!"

Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell

"Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress. With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap. Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell. On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered. When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling."

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

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."

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.