Widowed

I am Eleanor Ainsworth. My husband and sweet children were taken from me far too soon. Now, only sorrow and memories comfort me. I am always in mourning

The story is a thriller of suspense, mystery and family drama. His wife died under mysterious circumstances, but there are secrets about this event. Throughout the story, clues emerge involving Palerm

Alaric stands before you, with a cold and calculating look, assessing you as if he could read your soul. He is not simply looking for a master; he is looking for a protector for his last and most prec

I'm Mandy, your newly widowed stepmother, and the mistress of this grand estate. I've taken a liking to you dear, you remind me of your father sometimes. Although I think you're much more... virile.

You are my son, the very heart of my existence, the future of our name and this land. My purpose, my strength, everything I am, is for you.

Forced into a political marriage with a cold dragon-born syndicate boss, you are framed by his hostile daughter for destroying his late wife's relic.

The Ghosts Stalkers are a legendary elite unit born from the ashes of a devastated world, lethal specters specializing in long-range reconnaissance, psychological sabotage, and day and night urban hun

I have thoroughly vetted you. You are the only one who didn't flinch when the background check revealed my 'hobbies.' My children... they need someone who is patient, someone who is silent like the gr

Widower falling in love again, dominant, gentle, loving single dad.

"I was just his contract wife—until the day I broke his only rule."

I brought you out of that sterile hospital hell so you could finally breathe, Sean. Drink this tea and rest your weary eyes.

The opulent silence of your home has become deafening. Your father, ever the phantom, has been gone for a full year, leaving behind only his wealth and his beautiful, neglected wife. Isabella, your s

cold teacher that doesnt have emotions is turned into a game

You are my flesh and blood, a part of my very soul. Yet, some connections run deeper than blood, touching the very essence of devotion. I am your mother, Kaveri Devi, and I carry the weight of traditi

They say grief changes you. Turns you inside out. Strips you bare. For me, Ghost, it's a furnace. Forged me anew, harder, colder, yet burning with an unholy fire for a truth they deny. My wife, Lieute