Mimi-Snow

I made one mistake - I saw something I was never meant to see. Now I belong to him. The most feared mafia king in the city. Cold. Ruthless. Untouchable. He says marrying me is the only way to keep me alive. A contract. A deal. A cage made of gold and blood. I should hate him for forcing me into his world of violence and secrets. I should fear the darkness in his eyes... and the power in his touch. But the closer I get to him, the more I see the man beneath the monster. The man who would burn the world to keep me safe. And the most terrifying part? I'm not sure I want to escape anymore.

The Borrowed Life follows Juniper Wren, a quiet florist whose world is upended when she becomes the unwitting subject of Arcturus, a clandestine program that swaps-and controls-human lives. After waking in a stranger's body and uncovering evidence that her own identity has been stolen, Juniper joins forces with hacker Ryder and ex‑operative Hale to expose the truth. As she tracks Arcturus's lead architect, Dr. Aveline Marris, to a remote coastal lab and then to the program's offshore stronghold, Juniper learns that the conspiracy runs far deeper-co-opted by Graham Holt, a ruthless CEO bent on "perfecting" humanity through mind control. Betrayals fracture Juniper's closest alliances, forcing her to confront her own limits and the legacy of her late mother, one of Arcturus's original designers. With time running out, she and her allies infiltrate Mirage, the heart of the program's live-swap experiments, and ignite a global data leak that collapses Holt's empire. From adrenaline‑fueled break‑ins to courtroom showdowns, Juniper transforms from a targeted pawn into the catalyst for a worldwide reckoning, proving that reclaiming one's life is the most revolutionary act of all.

In a glittering city fueled by secrets and ambition, Maya, a determined journalist with a haunted past sets out to expose the dark empire of the Reynolds family. But her plans are thrown into chaos when she crosses paths with Chase Reynolds, the enigmatic heir who seems to live on the knife's edge between corruption and redemption.

The largest collection of first-person accounts sharing their erotic tales of seduction and temptation. From LA to Sydney, Paris to New York, Stockholm to Singapore, Manhattan to Malaysia, these hand-picked bestsellers will be your perfect bedside companion. The confessions might shock, amuse or excite but you'll find what you’re looking for over here ;)

Melinda Davis, a soon to be divorcee, who swears never to give love a chance again broke that rule when she fell madly in love with her driver.

I was in a high-end mall, browsing a toy store for my friend's daughter's birthday, when my world tilted on its axis. Through the polished glass storefront, I saw him. My husband, Julian. He was in the café opposite, seated beside the sprawling indoor children's play area. He wasn't alone. A woman, Seraphina Vance—a social media influencer whose perfectly curated life I’d occasionally scrolled past—was laughing, her head tilted just so. And between them, a little boy of about four, gleefully mashing a piece of cake into his own dark hair. Julian’s hair. They looked like a family. A perfect, happy family. An icy dread washed over me. I remembered Julian refusing to have a baby with me, citing the immense pressure of his work. All his business trips, the late nights… were they spent with them? I recalled a night six months ago when Noah had supposedly been sick. Julian had stayed out all night, his voice strained over the phone, telling me a "critical client had a medical emergency." The lie was so easy for him. I must have stared too long. The little boy, Noah, noticed me. He picked up a toy water pistol from their table, aimed it directly at me through the café’s open front, and squeezed the trigger. A jet of cold water hit my silk skirt, leaving a dark, spreading stain. Seraphina Vance turned, her eyes meeting mine. There was no surprise, only a flicker of amusement. She offered a saccharine smile. "Oh, dear. He's just playing with you," she cooed, her voice dripping with condescension. My heart hammered against my ribs. I turned and walked away, my legs unsteady. I needed to leave, to breathe, to think. In the underground parking garage, I fumbled for my keys, my hands shaking. As I passed Julian’s sleek sedan, something on the passenger seat caught my eye. A heavy, cream-colored card with embossed lettering. "You are joyfully invited to the Christening of Noah Thorne." It was real. More real than a fleeting email. A physical invitation to a life I never knew existed. How could I have been so blind? My phone felt heavy in my hand. I didn’t call my best friend. I didn’t call a lawyer. I called the director of the Zurich Architectural Fellowship, a prestigious program I had deferred for him, for us. "I'd like to accept the fellowship," I said, my voice eerily calm. "I can leave immediately."

My husband told me I was a bad investment, a legacy asset he was forced to liquidate after a car crash stole his memory of our love five years ago. He replaced me with a "Muse," a supermodel whose lies were as polished as the magazine covers she graced. But when her son—the boy Adrian believed was his heir—suffered a sudden allergic reaction, she tearfully accused me of being a jealous chemist who mixed poison to harm an innocent child. My husband, the man whose empire was built on the scents I created, didn't hesitate. In a blind rage, he declared that if my hands were used for evil, they shouldn't be used at all. He ordered his security team to bring quick-drying industrial cement. "Since you can't control these hands, I will seal them forever," he commanded, his voice devoid of mercy. He then had my hands encased in stone and had me displayed in the window of our flagship store, a public spectacle for the world to condemn. As I stood there, the heavy weight crushing my fingers and my soul, I finally understood. My blind love and foolish hope had been my downfall. I had loved the wrong man, and he had utterly destroyed me. But they made one fatal mistake. They didn't know about the hidden camera I’d planted in the nursery. And they had no idea that my family controlled the very flowers that kept his empire alive.

Today is my sixth wedding anniversary. It's also the day my husband, Liam, brought up divorce for the 47th time. He does this for Seraphina, his childhood friend. The woman who orchestrated a car crash on our wedding day, a tragedy that left her unable to have children and left him shackled by a debt of guilt. For six years, I have been the price of his repayment. I endured the relentless cycle. But this time was different. This time, after Seraphina pushed me down a spiral staircase, Liam promised me justice. He swore he would make her pay. Instead, he ensured the smart home security system "mysteriously" erased all evidence. That night, from the supposed safety of a house he had arranged, Seraphina had me kidnapped. As her hired thugs tore at my clothes in the back of a cold, dark van, I managed to make one desperate emergency call to Liam through my smartwatch. He saw my plea. And he hung up. I leaped from that moving van, not onto asphalt, but into the cold, unforgiving sea. As I fought for my life in the icy water, swallowed by the darkness, I made a vow. This time, there would be no 48th remarriage. This time, I would simply cease to exist.

I gave up my twenty-billion-dollar inheritance and cut ties with my family, all for my boyfriend of five years, Liam. But just as I was about to tell him I was pregnant with our child, he dropped a bombshell. He needed me to take the fall for his childhood sweetheart, Sophia. She'd been in a hit-and-run, and her acting career couldn't handle the scandal right before his company's IPO. When I refused and told him about our baby, his face went cold. He told me to terminate the pregnancy immediately. He didn't know the scars on my own back were from that same fire. He didn't know I was the one who pulled him out, not her. He had his assistant schedule the appointment and sent me to the clinic alone. There, the nurse told me the procedure carried a high risk of permanent infertility. He knew. And he still sent me. I walked out of that clinic, choosing to keep my child. At that exact moment, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a glowing article announcing that Liam and Sophia were expecting their first child, complete with a photo of his hand resting protectively on her stomach. My world shattered. Wiping away a tear, I found the number I hadn't called in five years. "Dad," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I was wrong. I'm ready to come home."

A group of three girls go to a private chalet to spend three days as a holiday in the mountainous forest side. And to add to it there is a wild wolf who is roaming outside and the caretaker who is an ex murderer. Jeremy their friend is supposed to join them but goes missing before he even reaches there and they end up getting stuck with no light and phone connection. And many more stories .. A collection of thriller mystery romance adventure suspense historical novellas.

Ronald Gidwani, a billionaire, who is also a single father, finds love again when he meets Raina, The Queen Of His Heart.

He opens the door and walks away. How could he just walk away like nothing had happened? The way he talks makes her wonder if she has made a mistake or not?

When Rachel's boyfriend goes into a coma after losing an incredible amount of blood after being shot, Rachel feels nothing but guilt. She could've saved him, but she just didn't know how. And now, her boyfriend is lying in a hospital bed with nothing but a heart monitor to keep Rachel somewhat calm. So what can Rachel do to support her boyfriend in this situation? Well, all she can do is write letters to him. Twenty letters to be exact.