Quye Xiaofang

Karlie Holloway woke up bleeding in a dark cave on an alien planet, her leg pinned beneath twisted metal shrapnel. Before she could even process the pain, a massive, feral man lunged from the shadows, his eyes reduced to crimson slits. His mind was shattered by a biological frenzy, and his leg was rotting from a deliberately poisoned wound. He was Gavin Knapp, a warrior betrayed. His fiancée had secretly drugged him, and his stepbrother had lured him into a deadly trap. They left him to die raving mad in the wilderness so they could steal his inheritance. "Get off me!" Karlie gasped as his massive hands pinned her to the cold rock, his hot breath suffocating her. She had no weapons and no strength to fight off a monster. If she struggled, he would crush her. If they stayed in this cave, his family's cruel plot would succeed, and they would both rot in the dirt. It was sickeningly cruel. A strong man reduced to a worthless, crippled beast by the people he trusted most. Why should his abusers get to live comfortably in the settlement while he suffered in agony? And why should Karlie die as collateral damage on a planet she didn't even belong to? Staring into his wild, desperate eyes, Karlie stopped struggling and activated her AI interface. She grabbed the burning skin of his neck and initiated the energy symbiosis. She wasn't just going to cure his cursed leg, she was going to take her new mate back to the settlement and make his betrayers pay.

Elie Joyce’s entire life was controlled by Ebert Ewing, a ruthless billionaire who held her sick grandmother's survival and her family's freedom in his hands. But on a freezing, stormy night, he forced her into a scandalous scrap of red silk and handed her over to a notorious, disgusting predator. "You aren't an escort. You're just a free gift." Ebert mocked her, using her as a disposable bargaining chip to secure a corporate funding round. When the predator humiliated her, forced high-proof vodka down her throat, and violently pinned her to the floor, Ebert simply watched with dead eyes. And when Ebert finally intervened to brutally beat the man, it wasn't out of mercy. "She is my property. Even if she is trash that I threw away, a filthy pig like you doesn't get to touch her." Afterward, he dragged her battered, barefoot body into his car, only to kick her out into the torrential rain, leaving her on the dark streets to die. Standing in the storm, shivering and bleeding from broken glass, the last shred of Elie's hope shattered. She had sacrificed her dignity and soul, enduring his violent bites and cruel control, just to keep her family alive. Why did she have to suffer this endless, twisted humiliation for a psychopath who only saw her as trash? But she didn't break. Tearing a strip of his expensive shirt to bandage her bleeding foot, Elie gripped her broken stiletto like a knife. With her eyes turning cold and calculating, she limped out of the shadows. She was going to survive, and Ebert Ewing would soon realize she was no longer his obedient prey.

I was the blind, wolf-less burden of the Silver Moon Pack, relying entirely on my Fated Mate, Zane, to be my protector in the dark. But one night, my sight and my dormant Alpha wolf suddenly awakened, only to find Zane writhing in bed with my half-sister, Lyra. "Once I have the title to her timberlands, I’m kicking that wolf-less waste of space to the curb." Zane's cruel sneer shattered my naive heart. Worse, my adoptive father, the Alpha, was entirely complicit. To secure an alliance, he was secretly arranging to lock me in a room with a notorious, sadistic Alpha whose previous mates had all died under gruesome circumstances. They stripped me of my dignity and my inheritance, mocking my supposed helplessness right to my face while I pretended I still couldn't see. The grief of their absolute betrayal felt like a physical blow, quickly hardening into a cold, suffocating rage. I couldn't understand how the family I loved could plot my brutal execution with such casual cruelty. Instead of crying, I kept my eyes unfocused, played the pathetic cripple they expected, and walked straight into the forest to find a terrifyingly powerful Lycan disguised as a Rogue. "I want to seal our pact with a blood oath. From this moment forward, you are my mate." I claimed the monster as my own. This time, I wouldn't be their tragic victim; I was going to burn their entire kingdom to the ground.

On my husband Heath's birthday, I sent him a gift: the preserved embryo of the child I had just aborted. It was my revenge. He had framed my father, driving him to prison and my mother to her grave, all for his mistress, Ember. When he stormed into our apartment, his face twisted with rage, he slammed me against the counter. "You monster! How could you destroy our child?" "You forfeited that right the moment you chose Ember over us," I spat back. But my defiance only led to more horror. He had me committed to a mental asylum where Ember, the architect of my family's ruin, tortured me with electroshock therapy, trying to break my mind. I feigned submission, then fought back, throwing both of us out of a third-story window. I survived; she was left in critical condition. Lying in my hospital bed, Heath came to me not with remorse, but with a chilling demand. "Ember needs a tendon graft. You're a match. The surgery is tomorrow." He thought he had me trapped, that he could force me to sacrifice a piece of myself for the woman who destroyed me. But as he left to comfort his mistress, I made a call. The next morning, as he begged me not to go through with the "surgery," I walked away, leaving him in the ruins of the life he had shattered. He didn't know this wasn't a surgery. It was my escape, and the beginning of his end.

My life with Liam was flawless. He was the brilliant tech entrepreneur, and I was his cherished wife, expecting our first child, Lily. Everyone said we were the perfect couple, and I believed it. Then, a crack appeared. It started small – hushed phone calls, a secretive smile not meant for me, a promising new intern named Chloe Davis. Today, the crack shattered our lives. Liam, who' d never missed a check-up, abandoned me for a "huge deal" and a presentation where Chloe was the star. Alone at the doctor' s, the cold dread in my heart eclipsed the perfect flicker of Lily's heartbeat on the ultrasound. Later, a news article confirmed my worst fears. Liam, beaming with adoration, presenting Chloe with keys to a luxury car on stage. The public admiration for her "integrity" twisted the knife. It wasn' t just infidelity; it was a grotesque, public performance that humiliated me. The shock morphed into a chilling rage when I found the pre-signed divorce agreement Liam had given me on our wedding day – an "insurance policy" for his infidelity. He had promised me everything if he ever wronged me. The man who wrote that was gone, replaced by a stranger who had made me a fool. But the final, brutal blow came at the hospital. Drugged, I overheard Liam and the doctor. They had induced premature labor, risking Lily' s life, just so Chloe could move in as a "live-in assistant." I tried to scream, knowing instantly they were going to take my baby. They thought I was weak, broken. But as the horror consumed me, a thought pierced through the haze: the email. The one confirming my connection with Ethan Hayes, Liam' s bitter rival. A seed of revenge had been planted just as my world burned down.

The grand ballroom shimmered with a golden glow, filled with the hum of celebration. It was my engagement party, a day before the wedding, and for eight long years, I had believed I was marrying the man of my dreams. Then, a casual conversation shattered my world. My fiancé, Mark, and his friends revealed a bet-a perverse wager placed on my virginity, my wedding night reduced to a prize in their cruel game. Humiliation washed over me as Mark stood by, allowing their repulsive jokes, even adding to them, reducing my years of devoted love to mere "merchandise." His "intimacy phobia," which I' d patiently nurtured, was nothing but a calculated deception to keep me at arm's length while he truly lived. My supposed future husband, the epitome of my life' s aspirations, had been laughing at me all along. How could he? How could the man I loved betray me so utterly, so casually, right before our wedding? Every sacrifice, every moment of understanding, felt like a fool' s errand. Was everything about us, about him, a lie? I wouldn't stand for it. The wedding was off. But this wasn't just a cancellation; it was a detonation. I would make sure he paid for every single lie, every betrayal, and every tear.

For ten years, I was Lily, the devoted apprentice, the silent force behind Master Thomas, the legendary sculptor. My hands, scarred and stained, shaped his clay, sharpened his tools, and managed his chaotic life, making his artistic legacy my own. Our bond was a monument, forged in the dust and silence of his mountain studio, beyond simple love or romance, more enduring than any fleeting passion. Then, one Tuesday, the monument cracked. Master Thomas, beaming like a madman, introduced Serena: a gaudy, perfume-drenched city creature who declared herself his "new muse." And then came the final blow, echoing in the stunned silence of the workshop: "She has agreed to become my wife." The woman who replaced me had never touched a block of clay in her life. His betrayal was a public declaration that my decade of devotion meant nothing, that I was easily discarded for a fleeting fancy. My fellow apprentices seethed, ready to protest this injustice, wondering why I merely offered a small, imperceptible nod. How could I contain the storm raging inside me? How could I let them see the truth – the bitter rage, the cutting contempt for this senile old goat who dared to light his own legacy on fire for a minute of warmth? But I had a dangerous secret: some secrets are not kept. A strange, new connection had just begun, allowing another apprentice, Leo, to hear my true thoughts-the ones I locked away behind my serene facade. He heard my silent, scathing assessment of Serena, my quiet strategies, and my fierce protection of the younger apprentices when Thomas demanded I bow to his new "Mistress." The battle had just begun, and the old man, lost in his infatuation, had no idea I wasn' t just a sculptor. I was a warrior, and it was time to reclaim what was mine.

My parents always said I was bad luck, but my Grandma Stella was the only light in my brutal home, my only shield against their cruel abuse. When Grandma Stella finally succumbed to her pain, ignored and reviled by my mother, her last breath was a desperate plea for relief, drowned out by contempt. My mother, truly monstrous, ordered me to take Grandma' s body and dump it in the industrial lot, a feast for stray dogs, claiming she was "trash." Against their wishes, I secretly buried her in the old church cemetery, the one they coveted for themselves, whispering a desperate vow for justice into the cold earth, sealing it with my own blood. But soon, strange accidents plagued our house-my brother's fever, our truck dying, even our chickens dropping dead without a mark. They blamed me, a proven curse, and brought in a crooked preacher who, instead of helping, declared me the vessel of misfortune and conspired to use me as bait for "the spirit." Now, cornered and used, I realize my quiet promise to Grandma was far more powerful than I ever imagined, turning our home into a terrifying battleground where true reckoning begins.

I was 39 weeks pregnant, eagerly nesting for our daughter, Emily. Our Austin home was filled with dreams of a perfect new family. My ambitious architect husband, Ethan, traveled constantly for "high-stakes" projects. But I trusted our future. Then, breaking news flashed across the screen: a military coup in South America. On it, his award-winning documentary filmmaker ex-girlfriend, Olivia, was caught in the chaos, presumed in grave danger. That same night, as my first contractions began, Ethan dropped a bombshell. He was flying to South America immediately. Not for business, but for her. He walked out as my water broke. He was choosing his ex over his wife and unborn child. Days later, news of Ethan's critical injury reached me. It unleashed a barrage of demands from his family and friends. They expected me to rescue him, to pay his escalating medical bills. They expected me to be the forgiving "dutiful wife"—despite his shocking betrayal. But the deepest cut came when my lawyer unearthed the truth. For years, Ethan had been secretly siphoning thousands from our joint savings. He was taking from our daughter's future, funneling it to Olivia's 'humanitarian' non-profit. It wasn't just abandonment. It was a cold, systematic betrayal, built on lies. How could he do this to us, to Emily? I refused to follow his family's script. When a critically injured Ethan finally returned, expecting forgiveness and a tearful reunion, I was there. Not as a heartbroken wife. Instead, I was armed with divorce papers and a fierce determination to reclaim every penny he stole. This was my battle, for Emily and for me. It was the beginning of a new life on our own terms.

Three years ago, my step-brother Chad and ex-fiancée Jessica conspired to strip me of everything, casting me out of the powerful Harrison family empire. Now, I was a different man, forged in Las Vegas under the tutelage of the formidable Big Tony Costello, learning the real game of power. Tonight, I sat quietly in the Bellagio' s most exclusive VIP room, observing, a discreet cog in Big Tony' s vast machine. Then, loud and obnoxious, Chad swaggered in, Jessica clinging to his arm like a trophy. His mocking laughter boomed as he recognized me, "Alex Miller! Didn't expect to see you in a place like this, unless you' re running chips now?" Jessica' s practiced disinterest and feigned sympathy only twisted the knife, reminding me of her betrayal. They tried to break me, publicly humiliating me with their false pity and accusations of being a "pauper" clinging to the edges of their world. Chad then brought in a professional cheat, Silas, who, with Jessica' s distracting help, tried to swindle me out of $50 million in a high-stakes poker game. When I exposed their brazen cheating, the Harrisons themselves stormed in, my step-mother' s slap resounding across my face as they arrogantly refused to pay the debt, threatening to use their power to silence me. The sheer audacity, the injustice of being treated like trash again by the very people who took everything, was infuriating. How could they be so brazen, so certain of their untouchable power, even after being caught red-handed? Was I forever marked as the Harrison reject, destined to be humiliated whenever our paths crossed? But they underestimated the silent strength I had cultivated, the quiet confidence that now flowed through me. "No limit," I stated, leaning into the table, ready to turn their spectacle into their undoing. What they didn't know was that the real power in Las Vegas was already on its way, and their cruel game was about to become their worst nightmare.

For five years, I was Sarah Jenkins, devoted caregiver to Ethan Montgomery, the handsome heir supposedly paralyzed after an accident. I sacrificed my youth, nurturing his phantom pains and enduring his moods. One stormy night, I risked my life to bring him his "emergency pain medication." Approaching his suite, I overheard him. Ethan' s voice, chillingly detached, revealed his "paralysis" was a lie. I was merely "penalty number ninety-eight" in his five-year revenge game against an ex-girlfriend. My world shattered. He was a monster, and I, his puppet. The humiliation intensified as I was systematically replaced. Then came the "ninety-ninth penalty": a brutal ambush in a derelict warehouse, orchestrated by his accomplice, Mark, the agony recorded for Ethan's sadistic pleasure. How could such malice exist? The physical pain paled against the soul-deep violation, the crushing realization of my utter powerlessness. My body was broken, but a cold, unyielding rage ignited within me. I wouldn't be his next victim. As the storm quieted, a decisive plan formed. I would disappear, truly vanish. My staged death would be his unwitting farewell, and for me, the first step towards a new life, finally free from his monstrous shadow.

Ethan Vanderbilt, heir to a formidable real estate empire, believed he had it all: a thriving business, a sophisticated life, and Isabella Hawthorne, the woman he saved from a shipwreck years ago at the cost of his own future children. His perfect world shattered during their engagement party when Isabella confessed she was pregnant with his rival's baby, then pressed an antique dagger to his abdomen, cruelly demanding he claim the child as his own, rubbing salt in the wound of his infertility. The ultimate humiliation came after I found her with her lover, Liam Spencer, in our penthouse; she pushed me, splitting my head open, then had her guards chain me outside on our 50th-story terrace during a raging storm, casually dismissing our entire relationship as a mere "dynastic necessity." Lying bleeding and soaking wet, listening to her dismiss our life, my decades of devotion, my profound love died, replaced by a chilling clarity and an unyielding rage; how could any human be so cruel, so calculating, after everything I sacrificed for her? But instead of breaking, that betrayal ignited a fire; I walked away from the wreckage of our life, and now, my ex-fiancée, who thought she held all the cards, is about to learn that a Vanderbilt, scorned and humiliated, doesn't just break—he rebuilds, he retaliates, and he truly lives, with a new bride and a new empire, leaving her with nothing but regret.

Our small house always felt heavy with unspoken things. Today, it felt sharp, like a shard of glass against my skin. Grandma Susan, my only comfort, hummed softly outside. A cold dread, my familiar "knowing," whispered of coming disaster. Then I saw it: a sleek cougar, yellow eyes fixed on Grandma. I called my father, a deputy, begging for help. He was at the fair with Jessica, his favored daughter, and scoffed. "You're just trying to spoil her fun," he laughed. The town watched as I fought alone, risking everything to save Grandma from the attacking beast. My own father never came. His furious colleagues returned, reporting his indifference. Jessica, my stepsister, gloated about *our* shared birthday, her annual cake mocking my lifelong neglect. Later, I found the cougar’s secret: a tiny cub, Jessica’s cruel trophy, hidden in our shed. I led the enraged mother cougar away, deep into the woods, knowing I was marked. Scratched and terrified, I returned only for my father to publicly grab and slap me. “You’re a disgrace, Emily!” he raged, just as the cougar lunged directly at *me*. Why did this beast hunt me? Why did my own father constantly poison my existence, always protecting Jessica’s malicious whims? Then, a crumpled envelope revealed a full university scholarship. He had hidden it. As his monstrous lies about Jessica, the cub, and a lifetime of dark family secrets unraveled, everything I believed combusted. My mother’s eyes, finally truly seeing me, filled with a dawning, terrifying horror. And then, the gunshots shattered the night.

Ellie, a woman who sacrificed her dreams for her husband Marcus's tech empire, NovaCore, receives a devastating diagnosis: late-stage pancreatic cancer. As she grapples with her mortality, she confronts Marcus about his escalating infidelity with Chloe Sanders and his cold indifference towards her. Instead of comfort, Marcus dismisses her pain and accuses her of dramatics, even suggesting she "die to get his attention." The grim reality of her impending death forces Ellie to face the harsh truth of her broken marriage and her husband's betrayal. She prepares for her final farewell, arranging her cremation and cutting ties with the life that has only brought her heartache. Even as she weakens, Chloe's malicious taunts continue, culminating in the cruel demolition of Ellie and Marcus's first home—their symbol of innocent love and shared dreams. In her final moments, Ellie leaves Marcus a signed divorce paper and a journal entry wishing she had never met him, asserting that he destroyed her and took everything. Overcome by guilt and a terrifying vision of Ellie’s death, Marcus tries to atone by rebuilding their first home and showering the "resurrected" Ellie with love and attention, believing he has been given a second chance. However, his manufactured reality shatters on their 20th anniversary when a ghostly Ellie reveals the devastating truth: he's been living a hallucination, a desperate dream to escape his grief and the consequences of his actions. As his dream collapses, Marcus loses everything – NovaCore, his fortune, and his sanity – ultimately vanishing, a ghost forever haunted by the woman he destroyed and the love he could never reclaim.

It had just occurred to Vivian that her life had been wrapped up with lies and betrayal. Her father misunderstood her, Her stepmother set her up, Her stepsister stole the man she loved and even sent her to her blind date’s bed...Overnight, she had lost everything. However, not everything. Jeffrey, her blind date, had given her a baby. He offered her a deal to help her avenge herself and get back everything that belonged to her. The only condition was to marry him. With her CEO husband, she was going to make a triumphant return.

Elena died on the operating table, betrayed by her husband, her unborn child already gone. But death? Just her intermission. She woke up in a whole new world-a beastmen's world, where females are rarer than diamonds and the strongest males go mad without a woman's mark to calm them down. And her? Labelled the weakest female alive. An F-rank body with a joke of a status. But hidden inside? Unlimited mental power. Just as she's figuring out this mess, a system pops up with one hell of an offer: Complete the missions. Bond with assigned males. Save this world. Do all that, and you get a one-way ticket back home. for revenge. Sounds simple? Think again. A Wolf General, colder than a blizzard, who should have ended her-ended up letting her mark him. A Fox Prince, all charming smiles and secret schemes, who started playing games only to lose his own heart. A golden Dragon, sunshine-bright and fiercely possessive, who declares her his destined treasure. A shadowy Serpent, too patient and too dangerous, watching her every move from the dark. A Phoenix King, whose love burns so hot he'd reduce empires to cinders for her. They all need her mark. They all want her. And sharing? Not in their vocabulary. Too bad for them- She's not here for love stories. She's here to survive. To climb. To turn their legendary power into her own stepping stones. And one day. To go back and make her betrayers wish they were never born.

Transmigration? So what? Given this second chance in life, I would not definitely make any mistakes... including that of opening my heart. :cover photo not mine:

Being stimulated by three overly attractive vampires was the last thing I had ever imagined. "Oh Jasmine, this is a sight to behold," Archer murmured,landing kisses all along my inner thighs. Lucien broke the kiss, I could see the lust in his eyes. Micheal took the turn to kiss me once I caught my breath and Lucien's fingers moved to spread my labia only for me to feel the unexpected lick of Archer's tongue on my clit. My eyes rolled to the back of my head. "Feel it..." Lucien growled into my ear, biting my earlobe, "Feel it how we pleasure you, little mate." ****** My whole life I have known my identity as a human but everything changed once I took the job in the Kings' palace as their maid and their attention fell on me. Black Vale Dynasty was ruled by three powerful Vampire kings. Respected, Obeyed and feared they were the most dangerous predators on the earth. But when my life unknowingly gets entangled with theirs, soon the unimaginable happened—On the night of the full moon, I turned out to be their mate and this puts my whole existence under question. They did not want to leave me but a human couldn't be the destined mate of a vampire, let alone three. However, fate pulled the strangest game on me, linking my life to the eliminated Vaidel-Dynasty which was once ruled by the strongest vampire of all time before the rogue attack…that destroyed everything.

A sharp pain shot through my head, pulling me from a deep darkness. I opened my eyes to my luxury penthouse, but I shouldn't have been there. I remembered dying. The memory was cold and sharp: my protégé, Dustin, sold me out, and my husband, Graves, watched our company crumble, leading to my fatal heart attack. Then, Graves appeared, his charming, empty smile unchanged. But he wasn't alone. A young woman, Alex Salazar, stood behind him, clutching her cheap handbag. Graves introduced her as an intern, saying she had nowhere to stay and would be living with us. My eyes fell to her neck, where a dark hickey was partially hidden. The date on the nightstand confirmed it: I had traveled back in time to the exact day Graves brought Alex home in my previous life, the beginning of my long, painful nightmare. Last time, I had screamed and thrown things, starting my humiliation. A strange calm washed over me. I had been given a second chance, not to win him back, but to escape. "Of course," I said, my voice even, "The poor thing. We should take care of her." Graves looked surprised, then relieved. He thought he had won. "In fact," I continued, pulling out divorce papers, "I'll make sure she's comfortable. You just have one small thing to do for me." I wanted the Malibu property. "Give me that, and I'll walk away quietly. You can have your new life. You can take care of this... orphan."

I woke up in a freezing alley, my lungs burning and my body shattered. I wasn't just a dying Appalachian girl; I was an ancient soul trapped in a broken human shell, starving for life force. A bulletproof Maybach idled nearby, and the man inside, Cristofer Barrett, radiated an intoxicating wave of dark energy. Driven by primal survival, I lunged at him and forced a kiss, stealing his cursed power to knit my bones back together. But my nightmare was far from over. I was dragged into the Montoya estate, a den of vipers where my "family" viewed me as a disposable tool for a corporate merger. My sister, Jordin, orchestrated a vicious campaign to humiliate me, even sabotaging my dress to ensure my ruin at the upcoming Hubbard gala. I was treated like a stray dog, beaten, and mocked by those who claimed my blood. They didn't realize that the girl they were torturing had already seen through their lies, their secret assassinations, and their pathetic greed. They thought I was a fragile victim, but they had no idea who they were dealing with. I had the power of a legend, a mind for high-stakes manipulation, and an old score to settle. Tonight, at the gala, I wouldn't just show up—I would tear their perfect world apart.

I dedicated my whole life to God, I was always focused on my duties and my virtue, at least until the day I met him. That wasn't a part of the great church I had known before, curiosity led me deeper into what seemed to be a dungeon, and that's where I found him. Something wicked chained up, sealed in that frightening place. His name was Amon, the evil being who had dragged me into sin, made me give myself over to him, the being who had introduced me to lust.

He's been looking for her for over ten thousand millenniums, he wants her, he needs her and he won't wait for another second to get her. Victoria Jane Heavenly is your average normal girl with a normal life. Ever since she could toddle her has been...

Mo Xuetong has lost everything. Her mother, her child, even her servants, have been killed. Betrayed, disfigured, and alone, she dies trying to destroy the people who deceived her… …and wakes up as a child again. Given a second chance, she vows to make things different. This time she will not be a naïve child. This time she is beautiful, cold, and willing to do whatever it takes to get revenge. But her plans are disrupted when she uncovers a thirty year old conspiracy that changes everything. Will she still be able to change her fate? And even if she does, will her new fate be any better, or will her hunger for revenge destroy her?

I woke up floating. Not in a dream, but tethered to a nightmare. My body lay cold on the bed, while my son, Leo, whispered, "Papa won't wake up." My wife, Eleanor, stood by the door, her face a mask of ice. I was a ghost, able to watch, but powerless to intervene. Then Julian Croft appeared, oozing charm and false sympathy. The man who'd received my liver, the root of my demise. Eleanor dismissed Leo's desperate pleas, accusing *me* of manipulation, of using our son. She chose Julian, leaving Leo behind, a small, trembling figure in our empty home. What followed was agony. I watched my seven-year-old journey miles to her office, only to be publicly humiliated, framed by Julian, and then viciously beaten. Eleanor, blind to the truth, abandoned him again, leaving him bruised and alone in a dark alley. My spirit seethed, consumed by a cold, useless rage. How could she believe such lies? How could she discard her own child so easily? The injustice was unbearable. I was murdered, my son brutalized, and the woman I loved stood by my killer. I longed to warn her, to protect Leo, but I was just air. A silent scream. Then Julian delivered the final blow: my little boy was tossed into the freezing Hudson River. But as Leo's small form sank into the darkness, a desperate hope ignited. A stranger, an angel, pulled him from the depths. My death was real, my son's suffering unbearable. And now, the true battle for justice, and for Leo's future, was about to begin.

When I decided to put my job as a sugar baby behind me, I never thought that 3 supernatural men would appear before me. Renald, the spoiled movie star –also a vampire-werewolf hybrid. Tony, the most wanted bachelor in the whole city –who is a demon. And Michael, the cold billionaire –plus an angel. On top of that, my previous sugar daddy admits that he is an immortal sorcerer AND is the other three men’s father! What is going on???