amy harmon making faces

In a frozen apocalyptic wasteland, Elara harbors a deadly secret: her blood runs like liquid fire, making her the world's last living heat source. Kael, the Citadel's most lethal and emotionless cryo-assassin, is sent to eliminate her. But a desperate struggle permanently binds their fates, injecting her burning blood into his icy veins.Now, a lethal curse forces them together—if they step more than ten meters apart, his system will combust and she will freeze to death. To survive, this ruthless killing machine must do the unthinkable: keep his prey dangerously close.As the freezing nights force them into intimate, skin-to-skin embraces, Kael's cold survival instinct morphs into a dark, irresistible fever. He was built to feel nothing, but as he strips away his armor to absorb her heat, he realizes he would burn the entire world down just to keep her safe. She was his target, but now, she is his only cure.

The year my boyfriend is dead broke, I leave him. Later, he becomes a mafia boss and uses every means at his disposal to marry me. Everyone says that I am the first love he can never forget, the wife he cares about the most. However, he then starts bringing home a different woman every night, making me a laughingstock. Still, I don't cry or make a fuss. I quietly stay in my own room, never interrupting his affairs. Elton Carter is furious. He pins me beneath him, kisses me harshly, and growls, "Aren't you jealous?" He has no idea that I'm gravely ill. He could buy half the city with violence, threats, and money. He could buy my freedom, my marriage… and each night bring a different woman home, oblivious to the truth. Little does he know, I have just seven days left to live.

My stepsister falsely accuses me of causing her allergies to act up. My three brothers stuff me into the cramped cellar and chain the door shut. I pound on the door and beg them to let me out. My eldest brother, an outstanding businessman, snaps, "It's bad enough that you keep bullying Lori. How could you make her eat seafood when you know she's allergic to it? Isn't that just murder? Stay in there and reflect on your mistakes!" My second brother, an award-winning singer, and my third brother, a genius painter, scoff contemptuously. "It's unbelievable that someone as evil as you is making excuses to garner pity. You can stay in there and repent for your sins!" After that, they take our shuddering stepsister to the hospital. The oxygen in the cellar soon runs out, and it gets difficult to breathe. Ultimately, I die in there. My brothers only remember me three days later when they bring our stepsister back from the hospital. Unbeknownst to them, I've already died of asphyxiation.

My stepsister falsely accuses me of causing her allergies to act up. My three brothers stuff me into the cramped cellar and chain the door shut. I pound on the door and beg them to let me out. My eldest brother, an outstanding businessman, snaps, "It's bad enough that you keep bullying Lori. How could you make her eat seafood when you know she's allergic to it? Isn't that just murder? Stay in there and reflect on your mistakes!" My second brother, an award-winning singer, and my third brother, a genius painter, scoff contemptuously. "It's unbelievable that someone as evil as you is making excuses to garner pity. You can stay in there and repent for your sins!" After that, they take our shuddering stepsister to the hospital. The oxygen in the cellar soon runs out, and it gets difficult to breathe. Ultimately, I die in there. My brothers only remember me three days later when they bring our stepsister back from the hospital. Unbeknownst to them, I've already died of asphyxiation.

Skyler Reid spends three years being the kind of husband most people only read about. He cooks, he tends the house, he keeps the light on when his wife Ruby works late, he asks for nothing in return. She is a celebrated lawyer with a demanding career and he builds his entire life around making sure she never has to worry about coming home. It works, until it doesn't. When Ruby's first love Brandon Lowe resurfaces with a divorce case that needs handling,everything shifts. She pours herself into his affairs without question, and when Brandon frames Skyler with a flimsy accusation, she doesn't pause to ask for his side. She just turns on him. Skyler looks at the woman he has quietly loved and served for three years and realizes she has never once looked back at him the same way. He stops fighting for something that was never quite his and lets go. Only then, when the warmth is gone and the light is finally off, does Ruby understand what she had in her hands and chose not to hold.

Everyone in southern Italy knew that Lorenzo Moretti loved me like a madman. And yet he had been keeping a much younger woman in Naples. They said she looked just like I had years ago. He told people she was only a reminder of the woman he had once loved most. He also gave strict orders that no one was to let me hear about her. Until the day I found out I was pregnant. I went to his office to tell him the news myself, only to stop outside the door when I heard a young woman’s voice from inside. “Lorenzo… am I only here because I remind you of her?” The door was slightly ajar. Through the gap, I saw a young woman who looked too much like me, wrapped in his jacket and holding his glass. I stood there, barely breathing. Then I heard him answer. “Don’t compare yourself to her.” “She could never be what you are.” I turned and walked away without making a sound. That night, I called my mother. “Mother, I’ve made up my mind.” She was silent for a moment. “I want a fire,” I said. “Something no one survives. By the time it’s over, Sophia Moretti needs to be dead to the world.”

The air in the Parisian haute couture salon smelled like money and fear. I’d waited six months for my wedding dress. Now, it was draped over the shoulders of Sofia Ross—the trending influencer, and my mafia fiancé Vincent Cassio’s god-sister. The salon manager was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between me and the man lounging on the velvet sofa. Vincent Cassio stood up. He adjusted a fold of the diamond-encrusted train on Sofia with a casual flick of his wrist. “Her premiere next week needs a statement piece. She’s borrowing it. Pick something off the rack and stop making a scene.” His tone was flat, final. Under the crystal chandeliers, Sofia admired herself in the full-length mirror, a triumphant smile on her lips. I looked at my reflection in the same mirror, wearing jeans and a soaked trench coat. I looked like a lost tourist. Suddenly, the entire past year of planning felt like a sick joke. I didn’t yell. I just felt cold. Numb. I slipped the five-carat engagement ring off my finger. It hit the glass coffee table with a sharp, final click. “You’re right, Vincent. I don’t need this wedding dress. This wedding… I don’t need it either.”

Everyone in southern Italy knew that Lorenzo Moretti loved me like a madman. And yet he had been keeping a much younger woman in Naples. They said she looked just like I had years ago. He told people she was only a reminder of the woman he had once loved most. He also gave strict orders that no one was to let me hear about her. Until the day I found out I was pregnant. I went to his office to tell him the news myself, only to stop outside the door when I heard a young woman’s voice from inside. “Lorenzo… am I only here because I remind you of her?” The door was slightly ajar. Through the gap, I saw a young woman who looked too much like me, wrapped in his jacket and holding his glass. I stood there, barely breathing. Then I heard him answer. “Don’t compare yourself to her.” “She could never be what you are.” I turned and walked away without making a sound. That night, I called my mother. “Mother, I’ve made up my mind.” She was silent for a moment. “I want a fire,” I said. “Something no one survives. By the time it’s over, Sophia Moretti needs to be dead to the world.”

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

"In our tenth year together, the King of the Gods, Aetheon, threw the grandest wedding I had ever seen on the peak of Mount Olympus. And at the ceremony itself, he calmly told me he had cheated on me. ""Go on with the rite, or stop it right now. It's your call."" He swirled the wine in his cup, bored. He told me that just before the ceremony began, he had sex with a mortal girl. The world went cold around me. I stared up at the king standing high above me. ""Do you love her that much?"" His brow creased slightly, as if he thought I was making too much of it. ""Not really. She's a fragile little mortal, nothing more."" ""You've just been so proper, so well-behaved these past ten years. Never a flaw I could find. It was interesting, for once, to be adored by someone who didn't know any better."" He turned the thunder ring on his finger as if none of it mattered. ""Don't worry. If you choose to go through with the ceremony, you'll still be my queen—no question. And if you want to throw a fit about it, fine. Throw your fit. I won't stop you."" I stood frozen on the altar platform. I had waited ten years for this day. And now the perfect ceremony in front of me pressed down on my chest until I couldn't breathe."

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

Within the halls of Golden Feather Academy, wealthy stepsiblings Tanya and Leo, bound by family but not blood, hold court as the institution's dual reigning icons of popularity. As the holiday break ends, the queenly Tanya sets her sights on the newly elected Student Council President, Logic—son of the nation's president. At the grand ball, her calculated allure meets only his icy dismissal. Stung and pride inflamed, she makes a reckless wager with her notorious playboy stepbrother, Leo, who has just slipped into her bedchamber under cover of night: if Leo can seduce and shatter the seemingly incorruptible, iron-willed heterosexual scholar Logic within one month—turning his arrogance to ashes and his reputation to ruin—she will grant him the one thing he's craved for years: a night in her bed. The libertine Leo, who believes his charm can conquer anyone except the elusive Tanya, acknowledges the formidable challenge of making Logic fall in love. Yet, brimming with audacious confidence, he accepts, plunging them all into a twisted game of seduction and vengeance. However, as the month draws to a close, a chilling realization dawns on Tanya: not only has she been denied the sweet venom of revenge against Logic, but she may have irrevocably lost the mercurial, ever-devoted Leo—the brother whose affections she'd always held in a delicate, dangerous dance of veiled dominance—to the very heart he was supposed to destroy.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

Within the halls of Golden Feather Academy, wealthy stepsiblings Tanya and Leo, bound by family but not blood, hold court as the institution's dual reigning icons of popularity. As the holiday break ends, the queenly Tanya sets her sights on the newly elected Student Council President, Logic—son of the nation's president. At the grand ball, her calculated allure meets only his icy dismissal. Stung and pride inflamed, she makes a reckless wager with her notorious playboy stepbrother, Leo, who has just slipped into her bedchamber under cover of night: if Leo can seduce and shatter the seemingly incorruptible, iron-willed heterosexual scholar Logic within one month—turning his arrogance to ashes and his reputation to ruin—she will grant him the one thing he's craved for years: a night in her bed. The libertine Leo, who believes his charm can conquer anyone except the elusive Tanya, acknowledges the formidable challenge of making Logic fall in love. Yet, brimming with audacious confidence, he accepts, plunging them all into a twisted game of seduction and vengeance. However, as the month draws to a close, a chilling realization dawns on Tanya: not only has she been denied the sweet venom of revenge against Logic, but she may have irrevocably lost the mercurial, ever-devoted Leo—the brother whose affections she'd always held in a delicate, dangerous dance of veiled dominance—to the very heart he was supposed to destroy.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.