Nay Lisboa

Mackenzie is the daughter of one of the country's biggest businessmen, successful and a role model to the social cream, but what they don't tell you is that from the gates in, her father is a gambling addict and her mother is a compulsive shopper. Mack, affectionately nicknamed by his little five-year-old sister, dreams of the day he will graduate from social work school and leave home taking his little sister Lola out of the toxic home he lives in. But her whole life is turned upside down when her father loses his entire fortune in a game of chance, and in order not to lose the house and his business, he trades in his own daughter. Now Mackenzie will have to marry the owner of the casino, a forty-year-old widower with no character who plans to be elected mayor and who will use this marriage to clean up his image. What the girl can't imagine is that such a "characterless" man may seem like a calm amidst the turmoil her life will become, but his son, Vincenzo Fontana, only twenty-two years old, will be the real hurricane, who will flood her life and present her with an irreverent, electrifying, and passionate world! A game of manipulation, staging, adrenaline, and lots of chemistry! She will have to marry a man twenty years her senior, but the real problem is her son, who can be quite a problem, especially when he is in the next bed, and it is his bed that she wants to be in!

At fifteen Anubis saw her life change completely when she was found next to the dead body of her mother, completely bloodied and in a state of outburst. With no memory of what happened, the girl was found guilty and sentenced to five years, but got out with almost two years for good behavior. Now she will have to live with the only person left of her family, a paternal aunt named Vennilla Hernandez. In an unknown city, with an unknown family and having to adapt to a chaotic new life, everything will seem to get worse when Anny - as she was called by her mother -, meets Alex. The physical education teacher at her new school, mysterious, with intriguing eyes and a scent that seems to awaken her innermost wild side. "He turned around and a shiver ran through my whole body, a strange feeling took over me. He was dark brown, his light brown eyes were incisive, something in his posture made me want to retreat and advance on him at the same time, he was intimidating but beyond that, his smell, I swallowed dryly the metallic taste in my mouth. Rust mixed with wet earth." A forbidden romance between two completely opposite poles. Is love able to spring out of chaos? Their ancestors have declared war, a family feud that puts them on opposite sides. Two powerful surnames, and a romance that could put everything at risk!

She came back from the ashes to avenge the death of her parents. He should have died, but he lived to become the feared owner of the Meyer company. She is determined to take back everything that is rightfully hers. He is used to always being in control. Cold. Manipulative. Apathetic. Insensitive. Machiavellian. Psychopathic. They have lived through hell, and it has drowned them in darkness. Together they will have to fight a power struggle. They say that opposites attract, but what do you do when the other person's eyes bring out your soul? When the connection gives you a jolt of adrenaline? Meyer will discover that being with a fork in her neck has never been so exciting. Dahlia will discover that being cold is not a choice when you have Meyer around! And the two will discover that equals either kill each other or fall in love!

Jasmim is a sweet girl in the midst of a life that turned bitter at the age of five when she lost her father, a soldier in the Brazilian army, in the line of duty. Now at twenty-three, returning home from a past she wishes to forget with all her might, all this beautiful and sweet woman wants is to take care of her mother, work in his restaurant, and attend college of visual arts so she can finally fulfill her dream of becoming a great photographer. But all this will be but a blur when she comes face to face with her new neighbor Meyer. At twenty-five, as charismatic as he is problematic, the young German is returning to Brazil with his mother to run the Meyer Haus, a nightclub that hides the big international traffic Meyer runs on behalf of his father. Two different worlds, opposites, that will connect in an intense and inexplicable way. Daughter of a military man, military man is. Mafioso's son, mafioso is! Can love change two considerably opposite destinies? Or are they not so opposite? Come and find out!

Can you imagine waking up overnight to discover that you are just a science experiment designed to destroy humanity and become the progenitor of the new age? That is exactly how it will be for Allyssa. A young woman who one day is attending college with her two best friends and the next is being chased and kidnapped for a purpose she didn't even know existed. While struggling not to have blood on her hands she will meet the Electrons: a group of people created as an experiment and who have turned against their creator. And the Jupterian society: Society created by a group of scientists who believe they can change the world by killing everyone and creating a new opportunity from patient 0, named Ally! On a journey of discovery about herself and her purpose, she will have to choose a side, but nothing is so easy when the lives of millions are in danger and you fall in love with the last person you should fall in love with! Three lives united by science and love, two sides fighting for what they think is right. Ally will have to find out which side she wants to fight for, but in order to do so, she will need to find out who she is, what her purpose is, and who she gives her heart to!

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world. In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief." But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius. Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be.

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.

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.

Serena Vance, an unloved wife, clutched a custom-made red velvet cake to her chest, enduring the cold rain outside an exclusive Upper East Side club. She hoped this small gesture for her husband, Julian, would bridge the growing chasm between them on their third anniversary. But as she neared the VIP suite, her world shattered. Julian's cold, detached voice sliced through the laughter, revealing he considered her nothing more than a "signature on a piece of paper" for a trust fund, mocking her changed appearance and respecting only another woman, Elena. The indifference in his tone was a physical blow, a brutal severance, not heartbreak. She gently placed the forgotten cake on the floor, leaving her wedding ring and a diamond necklace as she prepared to abandon a marriage built on lies. Her old life, once a prison of quiet suffering and constant humiliation, now lay in ruins around her. Three years of trying to be seen, to be loved, were erased by a few cruel words. Why had she clung to a man who saw her as a clause in a will, a "creature," not a wife? The shame and rage hardened her heart, freezing her tears. Returning to an empty penthouse, she packed a single battered suitcase, leaving behind every symbol of her failed marriage. With a burner phone, she dialed a number she hadn't touched in a decade, whispering, "Godfather, I'm ready to come home."

The roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand. Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn. She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back.

My wealthy husband, Nathaniel, stormed in, demanding a divorce to be with his "dying" first love, Julia. He expected tears, pleas, even hysteria. Instead, I calmly reached for a pen, ready to sign away our life for a fortune. For two years, I played the devoted wife in our sterile penthouse. That night, Nathaniel shattered the facade, tossing divorce papers. "Julia's back," he stated, "she needs me." He expected me to crumble. But my calm "Okay" shocked him. I coolly demanded his penthouse, shares, and a doubled stipend, letting him believe I was a greedy gold digger. He watched, disgusted, convinced I was a monster. He couldn't fathom my indifference or ruthless demands. He saw avarice, not a carefully constructed facade. His betrayal had awakened something far more dangerous. The second the door closed, the dutiful wife vanished. I retrieved a burner phone and a Glock, ready to expose the elaborate lie he and Julia had built.

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.

The acrid smell of smoke still clung to Evelyn in the ambulance, her lungs raw from the penthouse fire. She was alive, but the world around her felt utterly destroyed, a feeling deepened by the small TV flickering to life. On it, her husband, Julian Vance, thousands of miles away, publicly comforted his mistress, Serena Holloway, shielding her from paparazzi after *her* "panic attack." Julian's phone went straight to voicemail. Alone in the hospital with second-degree burns, Evelyn watched news replays, her heart rate spiking. He protected Serena from camera flashes while Evelyn burned. When he finally called, he demanded she handle insurance, dismissing the fire; Serena's voice faintly heard. The shallow family ties and pretense of marriage evaporated. A searing injustice and cold anger replaced pain; Evelyn knew Julian had chosen to let her burn. "Evelyn Vance died in that fire," she declared, ripping out her IV. Armed with a secret fortune as "The Architect," Hollywood's top ghostwriter, she walked out. She would divorce Julian, reclaim her name, and finally step into the spotlight as an actress.

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.