Too Late, Mr. Golden Boy

The Rejected Luna's Secret: Awakening the White Wolf

For three years, my Alpha husband forced me to take inhibitors, claiming my bloodline was too "weak" to bear his heir without dying. I believed him, swallowing the pills and the lies to be his perfect, submissive Luna. But during the rogue attack at the Victory Gala, the truth finally shattered me. A feral wolf lunged for my throat. I screamed Bennett's name, frozen in fear without my wolf to protect me. He looked at me. Then he looked at his mistress, Aria, who was cowering behind a table with her wolf fully accessible. He turned his back on me. He tackled the rogue attacking her, leaving me exposed to be torn apart. If his Beta hadn't stepped in at the last second, I would have died right there on the ballroom floor. When the fighting stopped, Bennett didn't even look my way. He was too busy cooing over Aria’s minor scratch, ignoring his wife who had nearly been slaughtered. I realized then that the pills weren't for my safety. He was keeping me sterile and docile until he could replace me with her. I walked upstairs, past the wreckage of my marriage, and flushed the inhibitors down the toilet. Then, I took out a piece of pack stationery and wrote the words that would destroy his world. "I, Kelsey Jensen, reject you, Bennett Randolph, as my mate." I left the note on the nightstand, packed my passport, and walked out into the night, never looking back.

The Architect of His Own Downfall

I was a celebrated architect engaged to Carter Hart, the city' s golden boy politician. I designed our perfect life, and he was on the verge of becoming mayor. Then I found a video on a shared cloud drive. It was of him marrying his pregnant campaign manager three months ago. I was just a prop for his image, a "fake girlfriend" he planned to discard after the election. To keep me compliant, he secretly drugged my daily smoothies, making me feel foggy and unstable. He staged a fire at my award-winning building to ruin my reputation, then tried to have me locked away in a mental institution, claiming I' d had a breakdown. But the final blow came from my godfather. He discovered Carter' s manipulation began seven years ago, when he paid someone to sabotage my college thesis, shattering my confidence just so he could swoop in and be my savior. My entire relationship wasn't just a lie; it was a cage he had designed from the very beginning. So I flew to London and spent six months with my godfather' s production team. We created a ninety-minute documentary to expose every crime, every lie. And we planned to air it live, hijacking the broadcast of his final election night rally. We called it "The Architect of Lies."

The Mermaid He Sold Away

I was Lot 734. A living, breathing mermaid, displayed in a massive tank, waiting to be sold to the highest bidder. In the front row, watching it all, was Dr. Aris Thorne, the man who had promised me forever on a hidden beach, the man I had loved with my whole being. His colleagues had surrounded my secret cove with nets the day after he discovered my tail; he stood by, silently allowing my capture. He called me a "scientific anomaly," a "new species," transforming me from his beloved Lyra into a specimen for his research facility, where I was poked, prodded, and drained. His fiancée, Isabelle, delighted in tormenting me, kicking away my food, tapping on my tank, her laughter echoing his betrayal as he stood by, silent and complicit. I tried to tell him that she had sabotaged my tank, almost suffocating me, but he simply believed her tears over my frantic gasps. When he ripped my precious scales from my bleeding palm, claiming it was to "prevent contamination," I knew the man I loved was truly gone. My pain was just data points on his tablet as he watched Isabelle douse me in burning sterilization agents. He then sedated me, turning me into a docile object for auction, a car ready to be sold. I tried to fight back, unleashing a burst of raw power, shattering Isabelle's glass. He reacted by electrocuting me, then draining my tank, letting me suffocate on the dry concrete. Loathing in his eyes, he hissed, "If you try anything like that again, I will make sure you arrive at your new owner's home in pieces." Then, through my pain, a sharp voice cut through the haze: "Let's see the merchandise." The buyer's representative dismissed my "damaged" scales, demanding one more spectacle: "He wants to see her cry pearls. Make it happen." My last flicker of hope died when Aris, his voice flat, agreed.

From Oil Heiress To Mountain Ghost

My life as Jocelyn Fuller, the oil heiress, ended the day my father went to prison and my sister Molly fell gravely ill, leaving me desperate. My ex-fiancé, Ethan Scott, a DC power player, promised Molly the best medical care money could buy if I agreed to a "deal." That deal turned into a nightmare: I was sold to Caleb Duncan, a ruthless West Texas rancher, becoming his captive and plaything, suffering unimaginable abuse and even a miscarriage. After three years, Ethan reappeared, claiming Molly was alive and well, offering me freedom and a new life. But I knew his game. I was done being a pawn in their brutal power struggles. So, I jumped off a cliff, faked my death, and became Stella, a ghost hidden away in a small Colorado mountain town, vowing to live free. Then, one by one, they showed up; first Caleb, then Ethan, both determined to drag me back into their twisted worlds. But I wasn't Jocelyn anymore. I was Stella, and this time, I was fighting back.

The Heiress They Stole

The Thanksgiving call from my adoptive mother was laced with a forced cheerfulness that immediately put me on guard. Maria and Anthony never just wanted me home; it was always a preamble to a demand, a lecture, or a guilt trip. This time, it was worse. I arrived to find our small, worn-out house packed with church members, their eyes filled with pious expectation. My adoptive parents, Maria and Anthony, proudly presented a newborn baby, Caleb, demanding I shoulder his entire upbringing and hand over my paramedic salary as my "Christian duty." My refusal unleashed a nightmare. They disowned me, threw out my belongings, and publicly shamed me at my workplace, jeopardizing my hard-earned career. But the lowest blow came when they tried to marry me off to my violent cousin, Rufus, hoping to gain legal control over my life and income. When Rufus used a spare key to break into my apartment, trying to force himself on me, my boyfriend Ethan saved me. Yet, at the police station, my adoptive parents' theatrics and lies allowed them to walk free, while I was left reeling from their venomous threat: a civil lawsuit for "elder abandonment" and demanding every penny I had. How could these people, who claimed to be my family, relentlessly try to destroy me, all in the name of God? Was there no end to their depravity, no escape from their manipulative grasp? But as their twisted words echoed in my mind, a forgotten memory-a snatch of a phrase about a "fire"-ignited a terrifying new question.

His Secret Shame

My ten-year relationship with Liam, born in a UT Austin dorm, was slowly dying in our Zilker apartment. He' d been distant, but the real alarm rang when he slapped a privacy screen on his phone. Then I saw the text, shining briefly on his kitchen counter: "Thinking of you" from a woman named Chloe. My heart hammered, a bitter sense of betrayal rising until I discovered a chilling Venmo payment to her: "$200 for your acting skills 😉". It wasn't paranoia; it was a setup, orchestrated to make me look insane while he planned his exit. As I scrolled through months of their flirty DMs, I realized he hadn' t just cheated; he had stolen our future, even swapping Chloe's name onto the ACL festival tickets I' d bought him. The man I loved weaponized my deepest pain against me, twisting my infertility – a consequence of the accident that took my parents – into his excuse to leave, claiming I was "selfish" and only caring about my "tragedy." Lying heartbroken on the living room floor next to his passed-out form, something inside me ignited. I was not a victim, not anymore. My old life disappeared piece by piece: I cut my hair, quit my dead-end job, and moved into a new apartment. Now, the only question was how publicly I would dismantle the calculating man who had pretended to be my anchor while plotting my demise.

Passion Unleashed: Carrying The President's Child

After a one-night stand with a stranger, Roselyn woke up to find only a bank card without a PIN number. Still in a daze, she was detained on charges of theft. Just as the handcuffs were about to close, the mysterious man reappeared, holding her pregnancy report. "You're pregnant with my child," he said coldly. Shocked, Roselyn was whisked away in a helicopter to the presidential palace, where she learned the truth: the man from that night was none other than the country's most powerful and influential leader!

Once The Bride He Discarded, Now The Love He Can't Forget

Five years of devotion ended when Brynn was left at the altar, watching Richard rush to his true love. Knowing she could never thaw his cold heart, Brynn walked away, ready to start over. After a night of drinking, she woke beside the last man she should ever cross-Nolan, her brother's arch-enemy. As she tried to escape, he caught her, murmuring, "You kissed me all night. Leaving isn't an option." The world saw Nolan as cold and distant, but with Brynn, he indulged her every desire. He even bought her a whole village and held her close, his voice low, deep, and endlessly tempting, his robe falling open to reveal his toned abs. "Want to feel it?"

From Trophy Wife to Scientific Queen

My husband Julian celebrated our five-year anniversary by sleeping with his mistress. He thought I was a clueless trophy wife, too dim to notice the vanilla and tuberose scent on his expensive suits. He was wrong. For years, I played Mrs. Vance, hiding my brilliance while Julian claimed my patents. An anonymous email confirmed his ultimate betrayal: photos of him and Scarlett Kensington in ecstasy. My heart didn't break; it solidified into ice at five years wasted. I activated "The Protocol" for a new identity and escape countdown. Playing the doting wife, I plotted his downfall, catching him with his mistress selling my work, and publicly snapping his credit card. His betrayals and stolen work ignited a cold, calculated fury. He had no idea the monster he'd created. I was dismantling his empire. I shredded his patent papers, stripping him of his ill-gotten gains. With a final tap, I initiated "Identity Erasure." Mrs. Vance was dead. Dr. Evelyn Thorne had just begun her counterattack.

Secret Baby: The Jilted Wife's Final Goodbye

I sat on the cold tile floor of our Upper East Side penthouse, staring at the two pink lines until my vision blurred. After ten years of loving Julian Sterling and three years of a hollow marriage, I finally had the one thing that could bridge the distance between us. I was pregnant. But Julian didn't come home with flowers for our anniversary. He tossed a thick manila envelope onto the marble coffee table with a heavy thud. Fiona, the woman he'd truly loved for years, was back in New York, and he told me our "business deal" was officially over. "Sign it," He said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. He looked at me with the cold detachment of a man selling a piece of unwanted furniture. When I hesitated, he told me to add a zero to the alimony if the money wasn't enough. I realized in that moment that if he knew about the baby, he wouldn't love me; he would simply take my child and give it to Fiona to raise. I shoved the pregnancy test into my pocket, signed the papers with a shaking hand, and lied through my teeth. When my morning sickness hit, I slumped to the floor to hide the truth. "It's just cramps," I gasped, watching him recoil as if I were contagious. To make him stay away, I invented a man named Jack-a fake boyfriend who supposedly gave me the kindness Julian never could. Suddenly, the man who wanted me gone became a monster of possessiveness. He threatened to "bury" a man who didn't exist while leaving me humiliated at his family's dinner to rush to Fiona's side. I was so broken that I even ate a cake I was deathly allergic to, then had to refuse life-saving steroids at the hospital because they would harm the fetus. Julian thinks he's stalling the divorce for two months to protect the family's reputation for his father's Jubilee. He thinks he's keeping his "property" on a short leash until the press dies down. He has no idea I'm using those sixty days to build a fortress for my child. By the time he realizes the truth, I'll be gone, and the Sterling heir will be far beyond his reach.

When Love Is A Lie

Katherine endured mistreatment for three years as Julian's wife, sacrificing everything for love. But when his sister drugged her and sent her to a client's bed, Katherine finally snapped. She left behind divorce papers, walking away from the toxic marriage. Years later, Katherine returned as a radiant star with the world at her feet. When Julian saw her again, he couldn't ignore the uncanny resemblance between her new love and himself. He had been nothing but a stand-in for someone else. Desperate to make sense of the past, Julian pressed Katherine, asking, "Did I mean nothing to you?"

HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.