ilyon

In the past, Sofia had believed her most joyful period would be wedding Jack, whom she loved since the days she and he studied together in the university. However, love, as she had realized, was fragile-easy to break due to infidelity. Jack's adultery had crushed her, and she had been given a stern lesson: genuine love was difficult to come by, and there was no forever. Following her divorce, she vowed never again to give her heart away. And then Lyon-Jack's tantalizingly hazardous youngest uncle. A man who didn't request permission. A man who didn't subscribe to rules. He blazed into her life, a devastating boom she couldn't recover from with one searing look. She tried to resist him, tried to sever all ties with her ex's clan, but Lyon didn't quit. He pursued a craving that reduced her body to ash and her barriers to dust. "Uncle Lyon, this is wrong," Sofia whispered, but her voice was not convincing. Lyon cupped her chin, his hold possessive but teasing, his eyes burning through all the excuses she held on to. "You and Jack are over. I ceased being your uncle the moment you signed those papers," he whispered, his lips a breath away from hers. "It doesn't change what people will think..."

Claire Harrington grew up in the shadow of Eleanor Harrington, her mother-the woman who built one of Ashford City's most feared media empires. Eleanor exposed scandals, toppled rivals, and destroyed reputations without blinking. When Eleanor died suddenly, her empire collapsed in flames of lawsuits and corruption, dragging Claire into the ashes. At her lowest, Claire thought she had found salvation in Adrian Blackwood, CEO of Blackwood Corporation. But Adrian never wanted salvation for her. He wanted revenge. Years ago, Eleanor Harrington's media empire had smeared his father, driving him to ruin and an early death. Adrian saw Claire not as a wife, but as a weapon for payback. "You married me out of love?" Claire whispered on the night he revealed the truth. Adrian's eyes were cold. "Love? No, Claire. I married you so every time you look at me, you remember the price of your mother's sins." Humiliated and discarded, Claire refuses to be broken. With nothing left, she claws her way into Whitestone Media, a struggling independent newsroom. There she begins to rebuild herself, learning the very weapons her mother once wielded-truth, influence, and scandal. Her allies are few. Olivia Price, a sharp-witted colleague who refuses to let Claire give up. Ryan Gallagher, a racer turned whistleblower, whose loyalty challenges Adrian's claim on her. Yet Adrian never lets her go. Every time Claire rises, he drags her back into his world of power plays and media wars. "Publish another word against me, Claire, and I'll bury you," Adrian warns, pinning her with the same intensity that once undid her. She lifts her chin. "Go ahead, Adrian. Bury me. Just remember who taught me how to dig." As Felicity Monroe, Adrian's ambitious fiancée, maneuvers to secure her place beside him, Claire unearths shocking secrets about Eleanor's empire. The Harrington legacy hides more than scandal-it holds the truth about Adrian's family's destruction, and the possibility that he, too, has been

~ +18 Caution. Dark romance. Possessive men. Toxic desire. ~ "Walk back into my life and I will lock every door around you again." Clara Whitmore freezes at those words. Edward Harrington stands across the ballroom, the same man who dragged her through public shame, tore her name apart, and left her to die in silence. Three years pass. Cancer scars hidden. Wealth stolen. Identity buried. Now Clara steps forward with a new face, a new name, and a fiancé who rivals Edward in power. Daniel Harlow raises her from ruin with one promise, "No chains. No cages. Only revenge." Clara returns without mercy. A woman shaped by pain. A woman ready to carve through lies and expose betrayal at every turn. Edward hunts her through every shadow. Rage grows. Obsession consumes him. Control slips from his hands as a ghost of his past stands tall before him, stronger than before, colder than before. Clara strikes first. Edward strikes harder. Love twists into hate. Hate twists into desire. A chain reaction begins, pulling both into a storm of secrets, lust, vengeance, and longing neither understands, yet neither escapes. "Say one word, Clara, and I will burn the whole city to reach you."

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.

Vivian clutched her Hermès bag, her doctor's words echoing: "Extremely high-risk pregnancy." She hoped the baby would save her cold marriage, but Julian wasn't in London as his schedule claimed. Instead, a paparazzi photo revealed his early return-with a blonde woman, not his wife, at the private airport exit. The next morning, Julian served divorce papers, callously ending their "duty" marriage for his ex, Serena. A horrifying contract clause gave him the right to terminate her pregnancy or seize their child. Humiliated, demoted, and forced to fake an ulcer, Vivian watched him parade his affair, openly discarding her while celebrating Serena. This was a calculated erasure, not heartbreak. He cared only for his image, confirming he would "handle" the baby himself. A primal rage ignited her. "Just us," she whispered to her stomach, vowing to sign the divorce on her terms, keep her secret safe, and walk away from Sterling Corp for good, ready to protect her child alone.

The thunder cracked over the Hamptons, but it was nothing compared to Elena Sharp's scream. She lay twisted on the marble foyer, accusing me of trying to kill her baby. My husband, Julian, walked in, saw the scene, and his eyes froze me out of his life forever. He didn't listen, shoving a separation agreement across the desk, accusing me of murder. Stripped of my name and home, I was thrown out, left with nothing but my clothes and a terrifying secret growing inside me. My accounts frozen, I ended up in a crumbling Philadelphia row house, forced to pawn heirlooms. During a fire, my water broke, and I delivered our premature daughter, June, whose lungs were damaged. I stole formula to feed her, facing massive medical bills. Accused of destroying an heir, I was exiled while carrying his true legacy, fighting for every breath. The injustice burned, but June's life was my only fight. Three years later, June needed life-saving surgery. Julian's dying grandmother called me back with the funds, forcing a cruel charade with the man who hated me, a man still oblivious to his daughter.

Yelena discovered that she wasn't her parents' biological child. After seeing through their ploy to trade her as a pawn in a business deal, she was sent away to her barren birthplace. There, she stumbled upon her true origins-a lineage of historic opulence. Her real family showered her with love and adoration. In the face of her so-called sister's envy, Yelena conquered every adversity and took her revenge, all while showcasing her talents. She soon caught the attention of the city's most eligible bachelor. He cornered Yelena and pinned her against the wall. "It's time to reveal your true identity, darling."

Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun. Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos. As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage. The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice. Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her.

For three years, I documented the slow death of my marriage in a black journal. It was my 100-point divorce plan: for every time my husband, Blake, chose his first love, Ariana, over me, I deducted points. When the score hit zero, I would leave. The final points vanished the night he left me bleeding out from a car crash. I was eight weeks pregnant with the child we had prayed for. In the ER, the nurses frantically called him-the star surgeon of the very hospital I was dying in. "Dr. Santos, we have a Jane Doe, O-negative, bleeding out. She's pregnant, and we're about to lose them both. We need you to authorize an emergency blood transfer." His voice came over the speaker, cold and impatient. "I can't. My priority is Miss Whitfield. Do what you can for the patient, but I can't divert anything right now." He hung up. He condemned his own child to death to ensure his ex-girlfriend had resources on standby after a minor procedure.

"One rainy night: Morris Shaw was chased and killed, accidentally hit Aria Rice, so, Aria took him home, escaped the robbery. Seeing him covered in blood, she thought he was a murderer, so she avoided him after that. MK Multinational Group: Without wealthy-family background, Aria was often bullied by her colleagues as an intern. On that day, the president came to inspect the company and all Aria’s colleagues dressed up beautifully in order to attract the president. Only she went to buy an ice cream and ran into the president when she came back. Morris: ""it seems that you like ice cream very much."" The murderer? The president? How could he be her boss?"

I always wanted a big brother. Someone to love and protect me. So, when he did come home that day with daddy, I was the happiest. But little did I know my new brother was a monster. A psychopath any sane human should avoid. I needed saving from him. But what do I do when the one person that was supposed to save me from my brother was actually him? ****** Her whole life, Rali has always craved to be loved by the right man. To give her virginity to someone deserving who would cherish her forever. But what happens when she gets stuck with the 'wrong' man? And worst of it, her big brother? How does she run from a man who controls the world? And what does she do when secrets from her past come out to hunt her? PLEASE NOTE: This book is an extremely DARK romance with explicit scenes. The male character is the kind of villain you want to avoid. He does things that might be unacceptable. Please take note before you dive into this extraordinary journey.

At my best friend's birthday party, I drank tainted wine and passed out. When I woke up, I heard the doctor say it could cause severe nerve damage. I teased my fiancé Cayden Hewitt, asking who I was and where I was. He hesitated, staring at me, then called my rival Liam Hewitt. "You're Julia. He's your fiancé. You're getting married soon." I froze, thinking he was joking too. My best friend, Vivian Green, slipped her arm through Cayden's, looking every bit like a couple in love. Eventually, I was about to marry Liam. But Cayden, with eyes red from emotion, stood in front of the car to stop it, pleading, "Julia, don't marry him. I've realized I can't let you go."

Five years ago, I saved my fiancé' s life on a mountain in Aspen. The fall left me with a permanent vision impairment-a constant, shimmering reminder of the day I chose him over my own perfect sight. He repaid me by secretly changing our Aspen wedding to Miami because his best friend, Annmarie, complained it was too cold. I overheard him call my sacrifice "sentimental crap" and watched him buy her a fifty-thousand-dollar dress while scoffing at mine. On our wedding day, he left me waiting at the altar to rush to Annmarie' s side for a conveniently timed "panic attack." He was so sure I' d forgive him. He always was. He saw my sacrifice not as a gift, but as a contract that guaranteed my submission. So when he finally called the empty Miami venue, I let him hear the mountain wind and the chapel bells before I spoke. "My wedding is about to start," I told him. "But it' s not with you."