Rhea Marie

What happens when a legendary assassin, trained in the shadows and feared by many, is assigned an unusual mission to become the personal bodyguard of a powerless princess? A princess so naive and fragile that she can't even recognize danger when it's right in front of her. Viviette Frerio The 16-year-old princess of the Frerio Kingdom, born without magic or special abilities. Considered useless by her family and people, she has spent her life being ignored, mocked, and treated with open disdain. Even her own parents show little concern for her well-being. Nymeria Valencia A 17-year-old assassin, known for her unmatched skills, deadly precision, and unwavering resolve. For years, she has thrived in the darkness, eliminating targets without hesitation. But now, she faces her greatest challenge yet-guarding a princess who seems incapable of defending herself. Thrown into a world of royal politics, betrayals, and hidden dangers, Nymeria must decide: Will she adapt to this new life and protect the princess at all costs, or will she abandon her mission and return to the only world she has ever known?

Homeless, broke, and out of options, Prim never expected her lowest night to lead to her most dangerous encounter. Thrown onto the streets after failing to pay rent, she stumbles upon a wounded man in the park-only to discover he's no ordinary man, but a vampire with blood-red eyes and sharp fangs. When he risks his life to protect her from a deadly attack, Prim finds herself caught between fear and fascination. He calls her strange for not running away. She calls him grumpy for refusing help. Neither of them realizes that this unlikely meeting will spark a bond strong enough to defy the fragile peace between humans and vampires-and change both their lives forever.

"Marry my daughter." I shifted my gaze from my glass of wine and stared at him in disbelief. Those were the last words I expected to hear from his mouth. I was no stranger to marriage proposals from my business associates. Many had tried to push their daughters toward me, hoping to gain something in return. And each time, I rejected them without hesitation. But this time was different. This was Lucas Angelo Ferrer-my fiercest rival in the business world. So why would he suddenly walk into my office with such a proposal? What was he really after?

I grinned widely as I revealed my winning cards, and my friends immediately voiced their complaints. "Sorry, guys. This one's mine!" I scooped up the bets from the table. "Come on, May-may! You always win!" "Are you cheating?" I flipped Fillan off for his comment. "You're just salty because you lost. Loser!" I taunted. "One more round, May!" Elmo challenged. "Nah, it's late," I said, glancing at my broken watch, which I only wore for style. "The dead aren't going anywhere! This place never closes anyway!" I glanced toward the house where our friend's coffin lay. Sam had been stabbed in the lung by his enemies. "You can help keep watch over Sam, too. It's tough staying up all night. Why don't you take his spot instead?" I smacked Elmo on the head. "How about I put you next to Sam instead?!" "Stay a little longer, May! Free snacks!" Fillan gestured toward the coffee and bread. I narrowed my eyes. They looked good. "Fine, I'll eat, then I'm leaving." "Stayyyy!" --- I ate the sandwich I took from Sam's wake as I walked through the dim alleyways toward home. "Out late again, May?" called out Tatay Gurong, drinking outside his house. "I was at Sam's." "That boyfriend of yours? Haven't seen him around lately." "He's dead," I replied casually, passing by. "Oh? What a waste." Hearing about deaths was normal here. A week without a killing was rare. This place was full of thugs, and honestly, I wouldn't even be surprised if someone got murdered in front of me. I was confident no one could intimidate me here-until I saw the man standing in front of my rented room. I instantly looked for a hiding spot. My sandwich slipped from my hand as I ducked behind a nearby post. Just as I was about to peek, a dog barked at me. My eyes widened in horror-it had definitely caught the man's attention. "Shut up, Choco!" I hissed at the dog. "You know me, damn it!" "Maria Zia Salazar?" I shrieked in shock at the man's voice. "Is that you?" "Look, dude, I swear, even though I was Sam's girlfriend, I had nothing to do with his debts. I don't have any money!" I pleaded, pulling out my pockets, which were full of candy. The man, dressed in a tuxedo, looked at my pockets, then at me, confused. "Even if you kidnap me, you'll get nothing. So just don't, okay?" I begged. He cleared his throat and stood straight. "Ms. Maria Zia Salazar Alaister." I froze at the mention of my full name. "I'm here to take you." I raised an eyebrow and laughed. "You've got the wrong person, dude." I walked past him. Before I could reach my rented room, two men blocked my way. "This is a direct order from your father, Giovanni Alaister," the man behind me said. I glared at him and turned around. "And what if I refuse?" I challenged. "We will use force," he said, pointing a gun at me. I met his gaze, my expression darkening. What does Giovanni want with me this time?!

I woke up to loud knocking and someone repeatedly shouting my name. I was sure it was Aling Lourdes, the owner of this rental place. Aling Lourdes shouted, "I stood up and immediately opened the door for her." "Well, Maki, it seems like you're forgetting something?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Aling Lourdes, I don't have any money right now. Can I—" I couldn't finish my sentence because she interrupted. "If you can't pay, you should leave now. Nothing is free, and if you don't, I'll report you to the barangay," she said before leaving. I took a deep breath and decided to leave this place. •3 hours ago• I was outside Aling Lourdes' apartment, still thinking about where I should go when my phone suddenly rang. I answered it. "Hello?" "Maki? How are you, my child?" I couldn't respond when I heard my dad's voice. "What do you want?" I asked coldly. "Look at you, your attitude never changes," Dad said. "If you don't have anything good to say, I'll hang up now," I said irritably. "Maki, why don't you come live here so you can see how beautiful it is?" Dad suggested. "In your dreams," I started to say, but then I remembered I needed a place to stay. "Just send me the address," I said curtly and ended the call. My phone vibrated, and I saw the address he sent. I smirked a little and called a taxi. •Fast Forward• I was now in front of his mansion, and someone greeted me and told me to follow them. I stopped walking when I got inside. The place was huge and beautiful. I was startled when someone spoke behind me. "So, it's you?" the person said, looking angry. "M-me?" I stammered, pointing at myself. "Who else, stupid?" the person said before turning away. "HEY, YOU'RE SO ARROGANT! I'LL STRANGLE YOU!" I shouted, moving closer. "Sure, if you can, brat," the person said mockingly. I was about to hit him with my bag when someone laughed loudly.

Chloe had just given birth to twins, lying exhausted in a cramped, bustling hospital ward. When she called her husband, Julian, he was busy partying with his actress mistress. He coldly hung up on her, having already drafted a brutal divorce agreement that would leave her with a pittance. Strangers in the next bed loudly mocked her pitiful state, gossiping about how Julian was dumping her. For years, Chloe had erased her own identity to fit into his elite world, only to be thrown away like garbage. She was completely alone, clutching her helpless babies, bracing herself to sign the cruel papers just to survive. She couldn't understand why her absolute devotion was met with such chilling indifference. Why did she have to suffer this ultimate humiliation while he celebrated with the woman who ruined her life? But then, a senior doctor noticed a unique mole on her wrist and ran a secret DNA test. The results were staggering: Chloe was the long-lost daughter of the billionaire Beaumont family. With her fiercely protective parents and three powerful brothers suddenly forming an impenetrable fortress around her, Chloe picked up her phone and texted her arrogant husband. "City Hall tomorrow at 10 AM. If you don't show up, my lawyer will handle everything. And trust me, you won't like their terms."

She married him out of desperation, becoming the perfect docile wife while he treated her like dirt beneath his shoes. But everything shattered the night she overheard him mocking her with his friends-and discovered the necklace she'd cherished, her only link to the boy who once saved her life, didn't even belong to him. It was all a lie. No longer the doormat he married, she discards her fake identity and reclaims her birthright as the hidden heiress of Salvadore City. Now she's on a mission: find the necklace's true owner among his circle of friends, no matter how many hearts she has to break along the way. But her husband isn't ready to let go. Convinced she's playing games to make him jealous, he's blindsided when divorce papers land in his hands. By the time he realizes the woman he dismissed was never who he thought she was, she's already moved on-living her truth, chasing her destiny, and leaving him choking on regret. Some cages, once opened, can never be closed again.

My stepmother’s bodyguards were seconds away from dragging me back to a life that was essentially a prison cell wrapped in silk. I couldn't even scream for help because the words always died in my throat—a clinical condition called selective mutism that felt like drowning on dry land. I had just discovered the sickening truth: my father was planning to sell me to a sleazy investor named Sterling to cover his company’s bankruptcy. They were going to drug me, ship me off to a private island, and strip away the only thing I had left—my late mother’s multimillion-dollar art trust. When I arrived at the manor, my stepmother Lydia handed me a glass of wine laced with bitter sedatives, her smile sharp as a razor. "Drink up, darling. It’ll make the transition to Mr. Sterling much easier." My stepsister Harper stood in the corner, wearing a dress bought with my mother’s stolen money, mocking my inability to speak. My father didn't even look me in the eye as he calculated my price tag, treating his own daughter like a piece of damaged, mute inventory. They thought because I didn't speak, I didn't hear them laughing about the "accident" that killed my mother or how they planned to burn her final restoration work. They assumed my silence was a sign of surrender, a white flag waved by a broken girl who would never fight back. How could the people who were supposed to be my family treat me like a commodity to be traded? Did they really think my silence meant I was weak, or that I didn't know every dirty secret they were hiding in their ledgers? I didn't drink the wine. Instead, I burst into the VIP suite of Carlisle Pierce, the most cold-blooded billionaire in New York, and slammed a crumpled napkin on his table with a desperate, last-second gambit. "MARRY ME. NOW. $1 MILLION."

As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole. I begged him for help, my vision blurring. But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background. "Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again." He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm. I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube. Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry. Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled. "You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up." He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research. I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym. They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive. They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity. I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding. I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it. Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house. The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born.

On our third anniversary, my husband canceled our dinner, claiming a sudden work emergency. I tracked his phone to an exclusive French restaurant, only to find him tenderly fastening a blessed bracelet—one I had flown across the world to get for him—onto his college ex-girlfriend's wrist. The sheer shock triggered a violent placental abruption. Bleeding out in my car just across the street, I frantically called his number. Through the window, I watched him glance at his screen, frown in annoyance, and press decline to focus on his lover. While I was wheeled into a freezing operating room for an emergency C-section utterly alone, he took his mistress back to our marital bed. He didn't even bother to check if I was alive, completely oblivious that our premature daughter was fighting for her life in the NICU. I soon discovered our entire marriage was a sham. He had used my family's wealth to save his company, and now he was trading me to secure a massive business deal with his ex's father. The man I loved didn't exist; he only saw me as a disposable asset. "I'm going to make him wish he had never been born." After secretly securing my baby in a private retreat, I ordered a medical-grade silicone pregnancy belly to hide my flat stomach. I stepped back into our penthouse, ready to burn his precious empire to the ground.

I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing. During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me. I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst. She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side. "Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house." I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip. My heart went completely dead. So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate. I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table. "I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today."

On our third anniversary, I stood outside a luxury restaurant, holding a limited-edition watch for my husband, Liam. Through the window, I saw him intimately wiping cream from the lips of his first love, Clara. Just as I realized the diamond bracelet on her wrist was the one he lied about, a violent cramp ripped through my eight-month pregnant belly, and blood soaked my dress. "Liam... I'm bleeding," I gasped into the phone in agony. "I'm not falling for these games," he coldly replied, hanging up as Clara laughed in the background. I almost died on the operating table during an emergency C-section, spending my first night as a mother completely alone. While my premature daughter fought for her life in the NICU, Liam was busy sleeping with Clara, eventually bringing her to my home to wear my bathrobe and drink from my glass. When my best friend confronted him, he confidently claimed I was just throwing a tantrum on a Caribbean vacation. He couldn't even recognize me when we crossed paths right in the hospital hallway. The man I loved was dead to me. He later called, demanding I come home to play the perfect pregnant wife for an important family dinner. I didn't cry, and I didn't ask for a simple divorce. Instead, I strapped on a hyper-realistic silicone pregnant belly and smiled. If they wanted the devoted, pregnant Sterling wife, I would give them the performance of a lifetime before burning their world to the ground.

Five years ago, Sienna made the most devastating mistake of her life: falling in love with Nikolai. What for the naive young assistant was an unforgettable week of passion was nothing more than a fleeting distraction for the cold-hearted Russian tycoon before he returned to Moscow. When Sienna discovered she was pregnant, she tried to reach out to him, only to be met with cold indifference. Alone and heartbroken, Sienna vanished to protect her daughter. Now, Nikolai was colder and more lethal than ever. But his frosty exterior began to crack when he crossed paths with a four-year-old girl in a restaurant, a girl with the same defiant gaze and unmistakable ice-blue eyes as his own. Convinced that Sienna hid his heir on purpose, Nikolai unleashed his fury. He issued her an unforgiving ultimatum: either she moved into his mansion under his rules, or he'd take the child away from her forever. He believed he'd trapped a compliant captive, but he was about to discover that the tender-hearted assistant he abandoned had become a fierce mother willing to do whatever it took for her child.

Her sister is marrying her ex. So she brings her best friend as her fake fiancé. What could possibly go wrong? Savannah Hart thought she was over Dean Archer-until her sister, Chloe announces she's marrying him. The same man Savannah never stopped loving. The man who left her heartbroken... and now belongs to her sister. A weeklong wedding in New Hope. One mansion full of guests. And a very bitter maid of honor. To survive it, Savannah brings a date-her charming, clean-cut best friend, Roman Blackwood. The one man who's always had her back. He owes her a favor, and pretending to be her fiancé? Easy. Until fake kisses start to feel real. Now Savannah's torn between keeping up the act... or risking everything for the one man she was never supposed to fall for.

Seraphina Hayes went from a billionaire heiress to a desperate daughter overnight. To pay for her dying father's surgery, she stood in the freezing rain to beg her ex-boyfriend, Liam, for help. Instead of helping, Liam threw a check into a muddy puddle to humiliate her. Left with no way out, Seraphina was forced to sign a brutal marriage contract with Julian Sterling—a ruthless billionaire who also happened to be Liam's uncle. But her new husband treated her like a bought possession. At Liam's grand engagement party, Julian forced Seraphina to wear a scandalous diamond necklace and enter alone. Then, he walked in with his famous ex-girlfriend on his arm. The entire ballroom mocked Seraphina as a discarded clown. Liam pulled her onto the dance floor, grinning as he whispered in her ear. "When he's done with you, you can always come crawling back to me to be my mistress." She stood surrounded by cruel laughter, her pride shattered. Why did Julian spend hundreds of millions to save her family, only to publicly execute her dignity? Was she just a cheap prop for his twisted games? But they underestimated her. Seraphina didn't break down. She leaned in, her voice like ice. "You're just the piece of gum I scraped off my shoe this morning. Disgusting, and easily forgotten." Leaving Liam pale and stumbling, she walked out of the ballroom like an untouchable queen, unaware that her ruthless husband was watching from the balcony, a dangerous spark of genuine interest finally lighting up his eyes.