Beyond His Reach: The Girl He Cast Aside

The Unwanted Luna: Secret Heiress Of The White Wolf

I walked into my kitchen to find my husband's assistant wearing nothing but his white dress shirt. Jami sat on the granite counter, sipping coffee from my favorite mug. My husband, Dustin, stood next to her, smiling in a way he hadn't smiled at me in years. When they saw me, there was no shame. Instead, Jami sent a photo to my phone while sitting ten feet away. It was an ultrasound. "The Alpha's bloodline," the caption read. "Something you couldn't give him." I demanded an explanation, but Dustin only looked at me with cold, dead eyes. "She carries my heir, Eliana," he said, shielding her with his body. "You are barren and unstable. Go back to bed." When I refused, he used the Alpha Command to force me to my knees, humiliating me in my own home while his mistress watched with a triumphant smirk. He thought I was just a submissive wife. He thought I was trapped by the bond, acting as an endless battery for him to drain to keep his own volatile power in check. He conveniently forgot that before I was his Luna, I was the sole heiress to the David mining dynasty. He forgot that everything in this house—from the security system to the very foundation—was paid for with my money. I fought against the crushing weight of his command and forced myself to stand. "I reject you, Dustin Powell." As he collapsed in agony from the severed bond, I didn't help him. I picked up my phone and called my legal team. "I want it all gone," I ordered, staring at the horror on his face. "If I bought it, take it. Start with the mattress."

Betrayed By My Alpha, Awakened As The Luna

I was the Alpha’s fated mate, chosen for him by the Moon Goddess. I spent years loving him in secret, certain he would finally announce me as his Luna at the pack’s Ascension ceremony. Instead, he stood on the dais and presented another woman. I discovered he had used my own blood in a secret ritual to bind himself to her, a political marriage he had planned for months while whispering promises to me in the dark. In front of our entire pack, he publicly rejected me, a brutal act that shattered our sacred bond and tore my soul in two. He allowed his new bride to frame me for treason, destroy my home, and erase my history. He stood by while his warriors threw silver-laced stones at my head, then commanded me to kneel and apologize for a crime I didn’t commit. The man I would have died for broke me for power and ambition. Then he came to me in the ruins of my life and asked me to be his hidden mistress, his secret prize locked away from the world. I refused. I escaped his tyranny, rebuilt myself from the ashes, and found a new love with a true Alpha who saw my worth. I became a Luna in my own right, powerful and finally free. But my rejected mate’s obsession festered. A year later, he lured me into a trap. The last thing I remember is the sting of a needle in my neck and his chilling voice whispering, "It's time for us to go home."

His Thirty-Fourth Accidental Betrayal

My fiancé, the city's top surgeon, has always taken such good care of me. That's why our wedding has been postponed thirty-three times. Then, one night in the hospital, I overheard him talking to a friend. He confessed he was the one behind all thirty-three of my "accidents." He was in love with a new resident, Kalea, and couldn't bear to marry me out of family obligation. His cruelty escalated. When Kalea framed me for slapping her, he shoved me back onto my bed, calling me insane. When she faked a suicide attempt on a rooftop, he rushed to save her, letting me fall off the edge without a second glance. While I lay paralyzed in a hospital bed, he had my mother beaten in prison as punishment, and she died from her injuries. On the day of her funeral, he took Kalea to a concert. I was his fiancée. My father had sacrificed his career to save his. Our families had bound us together. Yet he destroyed my body, my mother, and my voice, all for a woman he'd just met. Finally, he let Kalea, the woman he loved, perform surgery on my throat, and she deliberately ruined my vocal cords, destroying my ability to ever sing again. When I woke up, voiceless and broken, and saw the triumphant smirk on her face, I finally understood. I snapped my SIM card, walked out of the hospital, and left everything behind. He had taken my voice, but he would not take the rest of my life.

Her Vengeance is a Silent Waltz

My sister was dying, and my husband, Alex, refused to let me see her. "Diamond's comfort is my priority," he said over the phone, his voice cold. "She's not comfortable with you there." Diamond. The woman who supposedly took a bullet for him. A debt he was repaying with my life. His repayment plan had already cost me my future. He stood by impassively as I was forced to sign sterilization papers, ensuring Diamond, who claimed the bullet had left her barren, would never have to see him have a child with another woman. They smeared my name in the press, painting me as an unstable addict whose "violent outburst" led to my sister's hospitalization. At the funeral they planned without me, they announced their plan to send me to a "facility" for my own good. The night before their wedding, he came home drunk. He grabbed me, his hands roaming my body in a grotesque parody of intimacy, and whispered her name. "Diamond." Something inside me finally shattered. I shoved him off me, screaming my own name. The next morning, Diamond stood on our doorstep, a triumphant smile on her face, calling me a barren, washed-up musician who couldn't even keep her own sister alive. Looking at them, the monster and his master, I felt nothing but a cold, clear resolve. I turned and walked away from the wreckage of my life. It was time to erase Erica Wade and build someone new. Someone who would burn their world to the ground.

The House That Holds Our Hearts

My podcast, "Crimson Echoes," was flatlining, desperate for a jolt of something real, something raw. Then the email landed: "The Blackwood Experience" – an exclusive, five-person weekend trapped in the notoriously haunted Blackwood Manor. I signed up instantly, picturing viral content, the ultimate professional coup. But the confirmation email already hinted at the unease: "Five participants. No more, no less. The gate will open once, and close once." I arrived at dusk, only to find four others – a Goth, a Tech CEO, a Gamer, and an Influencer – already there. Then, a sixth person, a clueless student named Mark, pedaled up on a beat-up bike, clueless about the exclusive invitation. Just as the chilling realization of an extra person sank in, the massive iron gate groaned shut behind us, locking with a deafening clang. We were trapped, not five, but six, and one of us was definitely not supposed to be here. Panic set in, but then came the voice, childish and clear, echoing throughout the now-lit up manor: "Welcome, playmates… Let's play a game. A game of hide-and-seek." My fellow captives scattered, desperate to hide, but the voice promised "punishment" for those found. The terrifying truth dawned on me as one by one, they were claimed, their deaths horrifying reflections of their deepest flaws, from the Influencer literally dissolving to the paranoid Gamer twisting into an impossible shape. I survived, found but spared, only to realize the ghost, Lillian, wasn' t just in the house; she was the house, hiding in every reflective surface, watching. I found her, I "won," and the spell broke, the house reverting to a ruin as a faint whisper confirmed my chilling victory. But that whisper became a scream in my memory: "You've won before, you know. It's just your first time remembering." My entire reality fractured; I wasn't a survivor, but a ghost myself, trapped in a loop, reliving this nightmare again and again. My memory was wiped clean the moment I stepped outside, the horror dissolving like smoke. A week later, I found myself inexplicably drawn back, my duffel bag with recording equipment forgotten, a friendly smile on my face. "Hi," I said to the five strangers gathered at the gate. "My name is Sarah. I'm a podcaster. I came here for the experience." The cycle, inevitably, began anew.

The Day the Contract Ended, His World Crumbled

For five tireless years, Sarah Jenkins’ life revolved around Ethan Miller. She was his shadow, his silent caretaker, meticulously managing his expensive lifestyle, his meds, and his fragile mental state after his fiancée, Olivia Hayes, abandoned him. Sarah deferred her own dreams, trapped by a contract that covered her father’s escalating medical bills. Then, a bombshell: Olivia was back. Suddenly, the indifferent Ethan, who barely acknowledged Sarah’s existence, lit up, his world revolving solely around Olivia. Sarah, his contractual wife, watched as he dismissed her, even when she presented divorce papers, his only concern being the continued seamless functioning of his affairs. He treated her merely as a utility, expendable once his old obsession returned. Had her five years, her entire youth and ambition, been nothing more than a debt repaid to a man who saw her only as "services"? The crushing truth left her hollow, a ghost in a gilded cage. Was she forever destined to be invisible, a pawn in someone else’s drama? But then, a lifeline: a message from an old university friend offered a spare room in New York and the journalism gig she’d always dreamed of. Sarah Jenkins, the photojournalist, was finally reclaiming her narrative. It was time to leave, to find herself beyond the Miller mansion's suffocating walls.

Seven Years A Fool, One Day A Queen

Everyone knew Kristine loved Colton. Still, his heart clung to a woman overseas-someone he spent most days with, now pregnant with his baby-and Kristine still asked him to marry her. On their registration day, however, he never came; his "true love" had flown back. Seven years of loyalty later, Kristine walked away, blocked him, and left his city. Colton didn't blink-until he saw her at the courthouse, arm-in-arm with another man, and the proud CEO went pale. He went after her, desperation overtaking him. "I'm sorry. Please give me another chance." She snapped, "Could you stop? I'm already married."

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.

The Almighty Alpha Wins Back His Rejected Mate

Life was a bed of roses for Debra, the daughter of Alpha. That was until she had a one-night stand with Caleb. She was sure he was her mate as determined by Moon Goddess. But this hateful man refused to accept her. Weeks passed before Debra discovered that she was pregnant. Her pregnancy brought shame to her and everyone she loved. Not only was she driven out, but her father was also hunted down by usurpers. Fortunately, she survived with the help of the mysterious Thorn Edge Pack. Five years passed and Debra didn't hear anything from Caleb. One day, their paths crossed again. They were both on the same mission-carrying out secret investigations in the dangerous Roz Town for the safety and posterity of their respective packs. Caleb was still cold toward her. But as time went on, he fell head over heels in love with her. He tried to make up for abandoning her, but Debra wasn't having any of it. She was hell-bent on hiding her daughter from him and also making a clean break. What did the future hold for the two as they journeyed in Roz Town? What kind of secrets would they find? Would Caleb win Debra's heart and get to know his lovely daughter? Find out!

Reborn Heiress: The Wolf's Vengeance Deal

I lay paralyzed on stiff white sheets, a prisoner in my own skin, listening to the rain lash against the window like nails on a coffin. My father, Elmore Franco, didn't even look at my face as he checked his clipboard. He just listened to the steady, monotonous beep of the heart monitor-the only thing proving I was still alive. Without a hint of remorse, he pulled a pen from his pocket and signed the Do Not Resuscitate order. My stepmother, Ophelia, stepped out from behind him, wearing my favorite pearl necklace and smelling of cloying perfume. She leaned close to my ear to whisper the truth that turned my blood to ice. "It was the tea, darling. Just like your mother. A slow, tasteless poison." She chuckled as she revealed that my fiancé, Bryce, had a two-year-old son with my sister, Daniela. My inheritance had been funding their secret life for years, and now that the money was secure, I was an inconvenience they were finally scrubbing away. As my father yanked the power cord from the wall, the beeping died, and the darkness swallowed me whole. I was being murdered by my own flesh and blood, used as a bank account until I was no longer needed. I died in that sterile room, drowning in the realization that every person I ever loved was a monster who had been waiting for me to take my last breath. Then, I gasped. I woke up in a luxury hotel suite surrounded by silk sheets, five years in the past-the very morning of my wedding. Next to me lay Basile Delgado, the "Wolf of Wall Street" and my family's most dangerous enemy. In my first life, I ran from this room in a panic and lost everything. This time, I looked at the man who would eventually destroy my father's empire and decided to join him. "I'm not leaving, Basile. Marry me. Right now. Today."

Mr. CEO, Your Wife Shocks the World

"I will marry you. Wait for me!" Mabel woke up. She had that dream again. In her dream, a man said he would marry her. Just a dream. Five years ago, she was set up by her stepsister and became pregnant out of wedlock. She lost everything, including her baby. Five years later, she was forced to marry her stepsister's fiance, Jayden, who was sick and going to pass away. Having no choice, Mabel decided to marry Jayden, not expecting that Jayden was the man...

Too Late, Mr. Johnston: She Is Gone

Kara was diagnosed with cancer, and her unborn child could not be kept. Kara planned to end the pregnancy, get a divorce, and face her impending death with equanimity, allowing Davin and his new love, Alyse, to be together. But Davin had no intention of letting her go so easily. He and the increasingly frail Kara were inseparable day and night, just to leave a child for the infertile Alyse. Kara lay dying in her hospital bed, crying and laughing, pleading, "I'll give you my life, please let me go." Later, the cold and aloof man knelt before Kara's tombstone, holding gardenias day and night, his eyes red as he murmured, "Baby, stop it, come back."