Marian Tee – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Marian Tee – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Wed, 13 May 2026 18:52:21 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Marian Tee – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 The Rancher Kissed the Wrong Girl – Billionaires of Evergreen Texas Read Online Marian Tee http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-rancher-kissed-the-wrong-girl-billionaires-of-evergreen-texas-read-online-marian-tee Wed, 13 May 2026 18:52:21 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-rancher-kissed-the-wrong-girl-billionaires-of-evergreen-texas-read-online-marian-tee Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Billionaire, Insta-Love Authors: Marian Tee Advertisement

Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 34243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >34

Once upon a time, there was this idiot who didn't believe in happy-ever-afters. So she pretended to kiss a frog to make a prince jealous. She was hoping it would make the prince claim her, but instead he walked away.

That idiot...was not me.

Well, okay, it was me, and the prince isn't actually a prince, but like, a billionaire who’s princely?

Anyway, the point is, God's given me a chance to un-idiot myself, and now that Arkane Young is back in my life—

I muster the courage to wear my heart on my sleeve, letting him know I'm just an ordinary girl standing in front of a not-so-ordinary rancher, asking him to love her.

...

News flash #1: it didn't work—

Because news flash #2: there's another girl standing in front of the same boy, asking him to love her, too

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Part One

Her by JVKE

Chapter One

MOM: Jose wants me to go to Mexico with him and I just HAD to say yes lol. But dont worry I already made arrangements for the summer ok?

Huh.

That’s new. The only times my mom makes plans in advance are when she asks me what I want for dinner, and it’s usually a choice between two types of leftovers.

I sit up straighter on my bed and scroll down, already bracing myself. The dorm room is quiet around me. Unusually so, since Cami left yesterday with two rolling suitcases and a boyfriend who drove up from New York in a Porsche to collect her. Which means I’m alone for the first time all semester in a room that is approximately 80% Cami, 15% communal, and 5% me.

It’s not hard to tell which 5% is mine. My side of the room is a narrow strip of bed, desk, and closet, the closet being a plywood box with a metal rod that wobbles every time you hang anything on it. The only personal touch is a laundry schedule I printed out during orientation week and stuck to the wall with a single piece of tape that’s been slowly losing its grip since October.

Cami’s side, on the other hand, looks like a boutique had a baby with a Pinterest board. Shopping bags from stores I’ve never set foot in are stacked three deep beside her dresser. Her vanity mirror is framed with photos of her and various boyfriends, all of whom are terribly rich and even more terribly good-looking. She also cheerfully admits to cycling through them with the efficiency of someone who treats dating the way most people treat subscription services. Some are just good for a three-day deal, to be revisited only when they offer something hot and new.

Cami’s clothes take up not just her closet but half of mine. No beef, though; she very cheerfully offered to pay rent for additional space after seeing what little I had, and I was just as cheerful in accepting. We may be polar opposites, my roommate and I, but our friendship is also proof that honesty when negotiating is everything.

Everything that I know about Cami is something she’s admitted herself. My mom, she’s just as honest. But whereas Cami’s comes off as charmingly self-aware, my mom’s version of being true to one’s self is the kind that forces everyone around her to be the adult—and her own kids are no exception.

Case in point: this message of hers that has me taking deep, calm breaths with every line I read.

Mom: I texted Icelle—

Oh God, here we go again.

Mom: and she said you can totally stay with her fam for the summer!! You guys can just ride back together when school starts. It’s going to be SO fun!!!

Three exclamation marks. My mother only uses three exclamation marks when she’s already mentally on the plane to wherever her latest boyfriend is taking her and she needs me to not make a fuss about being left behind.

I lower my phone to my lap and stare at the wall across from me. There’s a hairline crack that runs from the ceiling down to the light switch, and I’ve been tracing it with my eyes since freshman orientation, imagining it as a tiny fault line that will one day split the building in half and swallow this room and everything in it, which, in my case, would amount to one suitcase’s worth of stuff and a laundry schedule. Cami’s side would probably survive. Her faux-fur throw alone has enough structural integrity to shield a small village.

Why do I even try? Why try making friends when there’s always my own mother to scare them all away? And the worst thing about it is that she never sees anything wrong in what she does. Like the time she called Daphne to ask if we were friends, and when Daphne said yes, she then asked with zero shame if Daphne could ask her mom to pay for our rent because—

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >34

Advertisement
The Sicilian Billionaire’s Accidental Wife Read Online Marian Tee http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-sicilian-billionaires-accidental-wife-read-online-marian-tee Fri, 03 Apr 2026 23:15:38 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-sicilian-billionaires-accidental-wife-read-online-marian-tee Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Insta-Love Authors: Marian Tee Advertisement

Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 44860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >49

An innocent woman who almost loses her life. A billionaire who doesn’t believe in love. And a well-meaning deception that traps them both in a proxy marriage they can’t escape from.
Surviving a three-year coma has given twenty-two-year-old Chelsea Regis the courage to surrender everything to her gorgeous, powerful husband—even though he’s never once said he loves her.
To curb his growing obsession with his wife, Olivio Cannizzaro ruthlessly turns his unplanned marriage into a business solution.
But when the truth comes out, and everything falls apart, it’s the Sicilian billionaire who’s driven to despair, realizing too late that he’s already thrown away the best thing in his life.

Note: A marriage-of-convenience billionaire romance. HEA guaranteed, tissues required

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

CHELSEA CHECKED HER smartwatch.

How strange.

She gazed at the numbers, but they didn’t change. Her heart was still able to beat normally even when a single conversation had just broken it into pieces.

Her gaze turned to her stepmother’s retreating back, but tears blurred everything before she could make sense of it. Francesca was already through the cafe door, not rushing, not looking back. The way a person left when they’d done what they came to do, and the aftermath was someone else’s problem.

The cafe kept going around her. Someone laughed at the table behind her. A barista called out a name. The trailing plants above the counter swayed in the draft from the door, and Chelsea sat there with her hands wrapped around a chamomile tea that had gone cold, and her fingers were trembling so badly that the liquid inside the cup was making small, concentric circles.

She’d seen those circles before.

In the bath. This morning. When her husband’s hands had moved through her hair and the water had rippled—

Stop it, Chels.

This morning was a different world, and so it no longer felt right to remember that time. When she had woken up in his arms this morning, and he had kissed her forehead, and she had kissed him back...

When she had stood in the foyer in his stolen t-shirt and already counting the minutes before they could be together again...

That world was gone.

And it might never even have been real.

But now though...

This world she was living in now...hurt.

And it hurt even more when her phone buzzed, and a part of her just wanted to hide and pretend and lie to herself. But this world had somehow turned her into a masochist, and she ended up looking anyway.

Olivio.

He was texting her...like usual. And honestly, she’d been like everyone else in the past, thinking that a billionaire like Olivio Cannizzaro would think of texting as beneath him. People should be the one calling and sending him messages, not the other way around.

And yet...in the nine days they’d been married, Olivio had texted her.

All the time.

And she used to think (foolishly, she realized now) his texts were proof that she was important. But now, oh God...

How is your day, tesoro?

The preview on the screen was enough to show the entirety of his message, and every word just...hurt. It wasn’t so long ago that this message would’ve made Chelsea bite her lip in an effort to keep her lips from forming another silly little smile. It wasn’t so long ago that she would’ve been quick to text him back, shyly but eagerly, because it meant so much to know that her very busy husband remembered her and wanted to know about her day.

But now, though...

The message was a blur like the rest of her surroundings, the tears making it impossible to see everything clearly with her eyes while the pain made it impossible for her heart to understand anything.

Her hands were shaking so badly it took a while before she could even dig her phone out of her purse, and it took three painful attempts to even scroll through her contacts just to find Edgar’s name and hit the Call button.

So far, blinking rapidly had kept the tears at bay, but she knew it was only a matter of time. She knew it was painfully inevitable, and that sooner or later...

Is this really happening, God?

Can't this just be a dream?

Please.

Edgar answered on the second ring, his voice gruff and warm at the same time. “Perfect timing, child. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this foundation—”

“I’m s-sorry, but c-can I ask you a question first?” She’d already cut him off before she realized what she was doing, and the guilt was terrible and instant.

This isn't me. So why am I doing it?

She had never cut someone off, but here she was, doing exactly that, and all because she got her heart broken?

“What’s wrong, Chelsea?”

The concern in the older man’s tone only made her feel more ashamed.

I don't want to be like this, God. I don't want to change, I don't want to start hurting people just because someone hurt me first.

Her fingers tightened around her phone, and she found herself choking out an apology. “I’m sorry for cutting you off.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I know you, child. Tell me what’s wrong. What do you want to ask?”

Her gaze strayed to her smartwatch. How strange, she thought again. The numbers were still within the normal range even as the pain kept growing. Her throat tightened, and she had to swallow hard several times before she could finally manage to ask—

“Do you k-know anything about the Marquez deal? Is it...is it t-true that he only stayed married to me to close it?”

The question gave birth to the most awful silence, and it just made her hurt more and more because she knew how Edgar’s mind worked, and so that awful, awful silence was an answer in itself.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >49

Advertisement
Rejected by the Stallion Prince Read Online Marian Tee http://www.ilovenovels.com/rejected-read-online-the-stallion-prince-read-online-marian-tee Fri, 03 Apr 2026 23:15:03 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/rejected-read-online-the-stallion-prince-read-online-marian-tee Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Authors: Marian Tee Advertisement

Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44703 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >47

She’s a nobody. He’s a stallion shifter prince. She should’ve known this was too good to be true.

The one thing Zia Morgan learned from a painful preters and humans don’t mix.

The one reason she can’t seem to remember that Prince Alexei Lykaios, who storms every defense she has to prove her wrong. He’s royally irresistible and dangerously unpredictable, disarming her with his gentleness one moment, his possessive dominance the next.

As her inner walls begin to crumble, Zia makes the one mistake that will cost her she entrusts her heart to the prince, only to have Alexei shatter it with a single demand.

Would you prefer a divorce or an annulment?

This is a full-length paranormal romance. HEA guaranteed

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

NICOLO CELESTINI LEFT with the file still open on the table between them, and for a long moment, Alexei did not move.

The party continued around him. Laughter and champagne and the delicate chime of enchanted crystal that the Fae artisans had crafted specifically for tonight’s celebration. Somewhere to his left, Ada was still apologizing to Nicolo’s stepmother about the shattered Bellecourt vase, her voice carrying across the courtyard in that uniquely breathless way of hers, as if every sentence was a small emergency she hadn’t quite figured out how to survive.

“I’m so sorry,” Ada was saying. “I was just trying to take a selfie with it because it’s literally the prettiest vase I’ve ever seen and I thought Maryah would want to see it up close since she’s still doing the baby thing, but then this waiter came by with those tiny quiche things, and I haven’t eaten since breakfast because I was so nervous about the party, and—”

“It’s perfectly fine, dear.” Maude patted her arm. “Accidents happen. Especially around you.”

None of it registered.

Alexei reached for the file and drew it closer.

He had already memorized every word inside it. Every data point. Every metric. He could have recited the contents in his sleep, and the fact that he knew this about himself—that he had read this particular file enough times to have committed it to memory—was something he had chosen not to examine too closely.

Until tonight.

Tonight, he had handed the file to Nicolo and said, “I pick her.”

Three words. Spoken with the same flat calm he brought to treaty negotiations and trade disputes and the sort of geopolitical maneuvering that kept the preter world from descending into chaos every other Tuesday.

Three words that betrayed nothing.

Nicolo had opened the folder. Had studied the photograph, the background report, the compatibility scores. And then his former Oxford classmate had turned to him with a frown and the two observations that the rest of the world would also make, in approximately that order, once the news became public.

“She’s been rejected.”

“Yes.”

“By her fated mate.”

“Yes.”

“This is going to cause a scandal.”

“I certainly hope so.”

Nicolo had given him a long look at that—the look of a man who wanted to ask more but knew better—and then he had left to check on Maryah and the baby, taking his perpetual glare with him and leaving the evening air noticeably more pleasant.

And now Alexei was alone with the file.

Again.

THE PHOTOGRAPH WAS a standard identification portrait, the kind taken for university records. Unremarkable lighting. Plain background. The subject had been instructed to face forward, and she had—obediently, it seemed, because everything about the girl in the photograph suggested a person who did as she was told and expected nothing in return.

Dark hair. Not black like his, but a deep warm brown that would catch the light in ways she probably never noticed. It fell past her shoulders, tucked behind one ear with the carelessness of someone who had more important things on her mind than how she appeared to the world.

Her eyes were what held him.

An unremarkable shade of brown by any conventional standard. Eyes that most people would glance at and forget. But there was something in them that the camera had caught without intending to—a quiet intelligence that coexisted with something softer. Something bruised.

She was smiling in the photograph, but only just. A smile offered by someone who wasn’t sure it would be welcome. As if she had learned, somewhere along the way, that expecting too much from other people was a luxury she could not afford.

Zia Morgan.

Twenty-two. Human. Fresh graduate of the University of Colorado with a degree in product development and a GPA that was respectable without being remarkable. Her thesis had been on sustainable packaging for preter-human trade goods—a subject that had earned her a single mention in an industry newsletter and precisely zero job offers in her field.

She had taken a barista position at a coffeehouse near campus three days after graduation.

She had held that position for four months.

Alexei turned the page.

THE FINAL PAGE OF THE file was the one that had given Nicolo pause.

Prior bond history. One entry.

Billy Stein. Wolf shifter. Age twenty-four. Son of Marcus and Helena Stein, whose pack controlled a modest but profitable territory in the foothills west of Denver. Compatibility score with Zia Morgan: 91.3%.

Relationship duration: two years.

Conducted entirely in secret, at Billy’s insistence.

Terminated seven months ago.

The reason was clinical in its brevity. Family disapproval of human mate. Subject chose to comply with family ultimatum.

Alexei did not need the file to tell him what that meant. He had lived long enough to understand the mathematics of cowardice. A boy who loved a girl but loved his inheritance more. A girl who had given two years of her life to someone who kept her hidden like something to be ashamed of. And when the moment came to choose—when it cost something real to stand beside her—the boy had decided that she wasn’t worth the price.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >47

Advertisement
The Rancher Rejects Her Heart – Billionaires of Evergreen Texas Read Online Marian Tee http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-rancher-rejects-her-heart-billionaires-of-evergreen-texas-read-online-marian-tee Sat, 28 Feb 2026 17:32:22 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-rancher-rejects-her-heart-billionaires-of-evergreen-texas-read-online-marian-tee Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Insta-Love Authors: Marian Tee Advertisement

Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 59827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >59

Aristocratic billionaire rancher Veil Hampton didn’t trust her from the moment he met her.
While every one of his mother’s previous assistants had thrown themselves at him within days, Evianne barely looked at him and treated him like furniture.
Either she’s the most gifted actress he’s ever met, or she genuinely doesn’t care about his title.
Veil will use whatever it takes to find out. Seduction, intimidation, whichever proves more effectively…pleasurable. And once he’s done, he won’t waste time throwing her away.

Note: This edition also includes a bonus copy of The Rancher’s Unloved Wife, an about-to-be-divorced arranged marriage romance

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

‘YOU’RE GOING TO LOVE Foxtown,’ Lady Geena signs to me, and I’m nodding, smiling, pretending my heart isn’t shattered into a million pieces.

This ring was supposed to mean forever.

But I was wrong.

I put the ring in my other pocket before signing back my reply. ‘It’s fine.’

I don’t think any other answer is inappropriate. And anyway, I am fine. Or I know I will be, even if I can still feel myself fragmenting into a thousand pieces.

But I’m good at this. I’m good at holding it together. I’m good at being professional and capable and invisible until it’s safe to fall apart.

So I smile, accept the water glass from the flight attendant, and buckle my seatbelt while pretending that my world isn’t ending as the jet engines start to roar.

Lady Hampton is talking to the pilot. I can see them through the open cockpit door, and she’s using her voice, which means she’s comfortable with him, which means he probably knows sign language too.

But even as I try to focus on their exchange, I’m also trying not to think about how Joseph’s probably boarding his own flight right now.

Does he know I saw?

Does Glenda?

Do they care?

I press my palms against my thighs and focus on my breathing. In for four counts. Hold for four counts. Out for four counts. It’s a technique Dorcas taught me, something about calming the vagus nerve, and I’m doing it now because if I don’t calm down I’m going to have a full panic attack on this beautiful private jet.

In for four counts. Hold for four counts. Out for four counts.

The jet starts moving. We’re taxiing toward the runway, and through the window I can see the terminal getting smaller, and somewhere in that terminal is Joseph, and somewhere in that terminal is my cousin, and somewhere in that terminal is the life I thought I was going to have.

But I’m here. On this jet. Flying toward something unknown with a stranger who showed me more kindness in five minutes than my fiancé had in...

Oh God.

I can’t even remember the last time Joseph was kind to me.

When did that happen? When did I stop noticing? When did I start accepting crumbs and calling it love?

My fingers curl into fists against my lap as I strive to recall the best memories we shared as a couple. But all I remember now was Joseph telling me three years ago that I was boring...and how a part of me had just shrunk in shame because I believed him. He was popular, after all. So of course he’d recognize someone who wasn’t like him?

The engines roar louder, and we’re picking up speed, and my stomach drops as we lift off the ground, and I’m watching New York disappear beneath us, and—

Oh.

Lady Hampton catches my eye from across the aisle. She’s watching me with that same gentle concern, and for a moment I think she’s going to ask if I’m okay, but she doesn’t.

She just offers me a small, understanding smile.

And somehow that’s worse.

Because it means she knows.

She knows I’m breaking.

And that underneath the professional exterior, I’m a complete mess.

The flight attendant appears with champagne. Lady Hampton accepts a glass, but I shake my head—alcohol sounds terrible right now, my stomach is already in knots—and ask for water instead.

“Of course, miss.”

The jet levels out, and I force myself to take a sip of water, to breathe, to not think about Joseph or Glenda or the way he was looking at her like—

Stop.

I press my palms against my thighs.

Focus on something else, Evianne. Focus on anything but him. Them.

And so I do my best to just think about the jet and its plush leather seats while Lady Hampton across from me, sipping her champagne with elegant grace.

She’s so composed. So put-together. The kind of woman who probably never falls apart in airports or makes impulsive decisions or—

My phone buzzes again, and this startles me. We have signal here?

I glance at my employer afer taking it out of my pocket, and she smiles and nods, giving me permission to check my messages.

Joseph: Can’t wait to see you in two weeks. Love you.

The lie sits there on my screen, glowing.

Love...you?

I wonder what he was thinking or feeling when he typed those words.

Did he ever love me, really?

I turn my phone face-down on the seat beside me and close my eyes because I can’t...I can’t look at those words right now, I can’t pretend they mean anything, I can’t—

My throat is tight.

My eyes are burning.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

But it’s too late.

The first tear escapes, and then another, and I’m turning my face toward the window because I cannot fall apart in front of Lady Hampton, I cannot be that person who has a breakdown on her employer’s private jet during their very first meeting.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >59

Advertisement
The Italian Billionaire’s Shy Waitress – A Billionaire Breaks My Heart Read Online Marian Tee http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-italian-billionaires-shy-waitress-a-billionaire-breaks-my-heart-read-online-marian-tee Thu, 26 Feb 2026 08:21:17 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-italian-billionaires-shy-waitress-a-billionaire-breaks-my-heart-read-online-marian-tee Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Insta-Love Authors: Marian Tee Advertisement

Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34995 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >36

Thirty-six days. One corner booth. Zero chance she’ll stop counting the times he’s caught her staring.
Thea Clancy counts everything. Steps to the kitchen (fourteen). Ceiling tiles (forty-seven). Reasons to stay invisible in a small-town Wyoming café (too many to name). But when Italian racing champion Santino Aleotti walks into Gail’s and orders breakfast with that low, unhurried voice, she forgets the specials. Then she forgets how to breathe.
Professional race car driver Santino Aleotti came to Jackson Hole to escape the noise. The speed. The expectations that never stop chasing him around every curve. He doesn’t do attachments. Doesn’t do vulnerable. Until a waitress with anxious eyes and defensive invisibility drops a coffee pot and makes him want to catch more than her wrist.

She’s been invisible her whole life. He’s made her feel seen. But when a beautiful rival moves in and Santino’s racing past comes calling, Thea discovers that being visible means being vulnerable…and the man who taught her to stop hiding might be the one who breaks her completely

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

THIRTY-SIX.

That's how many days it's been since the man in the corner booth walked into my life and ruined my ability to carry a coffee pot without trembling.

Not that anyone noticed the trembling. Or me, for that matter. But that's a different problem for a different day, and right now I have a much bigger problem, and it's sitting six feet away from me, eating a mushroom and gruyère omelet like it personally offended him.

I've been watching him eat for thirty-six days.

I've been counting.

I always count. Steps from the kitchen to the front counter (fourteen). Ceiling tiles in the café (forty-seven, and the one above the register has a crack shaped like Idaho). Seconds between the moment Jolie says something inappropriate and the moment I can feel my face catch fire (average: one point five).

I count because counting makes things manageable, and also because I started doing it during my father's trial when I was twelve and everything in my life was the opposite of manageable, and I guess some habits just...stick.

Like the habit of staring at this man, apparently. Because that's definitely stuck, and no amount of self-discipline or prayer or Jolie kicking me under the counter has been enough to shake it loose.

Thirty-six, I find myself thinking again, and the number almost makes me cringe, more so when I realize just how vividly I recall the first day I saw him.

I was just working my usual morning shift at the café, the one that technically doesn't have a name but everyone local calls Gail's because that's the owner's name, and also because Jackson Hole has exactly three hidden spots that tourists haven't ruined yet, and this

is one of them.

I also remember it was a Tuesday then. Tuesdays are that day of the week when we get our bread delivered from the bakery over in Green Heights, and I remember it was when I was in the back counting loaves (twelve sourdough, eight whole wheat, six rye) when Jolie came through the swinging door with her perpetual cup of coffee in one hand and her worn

paperback of Wuthering Heights in the other.

She always has that particular book with her, but she’s never explained why. Its dust jacket is creased and faded but still intact, like she's protecting something precious underneath.

"New customer," she said, and there was something in her voice that made me look up from the bread count. "Corner booth. Yours."

"What's wrong with the corner booth?" I asked, because Jolie loves the corner booth. Best tips, she always says, because it's the table with the view of the elk refuge, and people pay extra for views.

"Nothing's wrong with it." She took a sip of coffee, and her eyes—dark and bright and always seeing too much—did that thing where they go all innocent, which means she's about to say something that will make me want to disappear into the walk-in freezer. "I just think

you should take this one."

"Jolie—"

"Trust me." She was already heading back through the door, her beloved Emily Bronté classic tucked under her arm. "You'll thank me later."

I didn't thank her later.

I'm still not sure I've forgiven her, actually, but that's beside the point.

The point is that I walked out of the kitchen with my apron strings tied too tight because I'd retied them three times trying to get them even, which is something I do when I'm nervous even though I have no idea why I was nervous about a corner booth customer, and I looked up.

And I saw him.

He was sitting with his back to the window, which meant the morning light was coming in behind him, turning everything around him into this soft gold haze that made absolutely no sense for February in Wyoming. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and he was reading something on his phone with an expression that I can only describe as beautifully unhappy, which is

a contradiction, I know, but I don't have better words for it.

He looked up, our eyes met, and I swear it was just like how you see it in the movies.

Because right then and there...

I forgot the specials.

For real.

They were just gone.

Completely erased from my brain. I was standing there with my order pad and a pen and approximately zero thoughts in my head except for the fact that his eyes were the kind of dark that you can't read, like deep water, and I had this wild urge to keep looking until I could see the bottom, which was possibly the most ridiculous thought I'd ever had about a customer, and I've had some ridiculous thoughts.

"Hi," I managed. "Welcome to, um, Gail's. Can I—do you need a menu?"

Smooth, Thea, I remember thinking at that time with major cringe. Really stellar work.

He studied me for a second, and I couldn't tell if he was amused or annoyed or completely indifferent, but then he said, "Yes. Thank you."

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >36

Advertisement
Her Protective Prince – A Sheikh Breaks My Heart Read Online Marian Tee http://www.ilovenovels.com/her-protective-prince-a-sheikh-breaks-my-heart-read-online-marian-tee Thu, 26 Feb 2026 08:20:18 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/her-protective-prince-a-sheikh-breaks-my-heart-read-online-marian-tee Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Authors: Marian Tee Advertisement

Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 30190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >31

What if you receive true love’s kiss…from your sister’s royal sheikh?
When my family’s tragic death left me orphaned, I became the prince’s ward. The prince was my akh–my big brother, the man once promised to marry my sister.

He was also my first love.
For such a long time, I pretended I didn’t want him, pretended I didn’t notice the little things that made me think he was aware of me as a woman.
For such a long time, I tried to respect the distance between us until one day…I could no longer keep my feelings to myself.
I kissed him, thinking he’d push me away…but he did not.

Themes: Sleeping Beauty romance, age gap romance

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Once Upon A Time

THERE WAS A STRONG and handsome sheikh who was betrothed since birth. The girl he was promised to marry was alluring and exotic, passionate and intelligent. She was a woman certainly fit to be the sheikh’s bride and a queen in the future. The sheikh thought so, too, until the day his betrothed’s family came to his kingdom, and he met her.

His betrothed’s sister.

“YOUR HIGHNESS, THEY are here.” Aretha touched his back, and Mik’hail turned immediately, curling an arm around her waist so they could present a united front.

The day had arrived that his betrothed’s family was to come live with them in his palace, and the sheikh was genuinely looking forward to welcoming Aretha’s kin.

Her parents were the first ones he saw, a distinguished-looking couple he had heard only good things about. Lord Richard had known the late king, Mik’hail’s father, during their years in Eton, and it was because of the two men’s friendship that their children’s betrothal had come to be.

“Please.” The sheikh shook his head when Lord Richard was about to bow, and Lady Elizabeth had already raised her skirts to curtsy. “Formalities are not needed.” Instead, Mik’hail stepped down from the dais to shake hands with Aretha’s father and bowed in greeting to his future mother-in-law. “We are to be a family, after all.”

The words put the older couple at ease, and with a smile, Lady Elizabeth said, “May I present my younger daughter, Lady Aurora?” She stepped back and drew a girl forward—

And in that second, the sheikh’s life was turned upside down.

The girl was tall where her sister was dainty, and slender where her sister was buxom. Her hair was the shade of the sun, her eyes blue gray like stormy skies.

Dipping into a curtsy, the girl said sweetly, “Thank you for the welcome, akh.” She was clearly teasing him, the twinkle in her eyes unmistakable.

It had his lips twitching, but the rest of her family was horrified.

“Aurora!” Aretha’s tone was sharp with disapproval while their father sighed and their mother gasped.

Straightening, the girl said with cheeky innocence, “What?” She glanced at the sheikh. “You don’t mind, do you, Your Highness?” Her voice, even mischievous, was low and husky, and the sound of it did something strange to his chest.

Mik’hail slowly shook his head.

No, he did not mind.

In fact, he had a feeling that whatever this girl did, he would not mind at all, and that, the sheikh thought grimly, was the problem.

THE SHEIKH WAS ENCHANTED. He strove to hide it, even denying the truth to himself. But each day, the feelings became deeper, and it did not help that Aretha and he had begun to quarrel as well. Although they had never spoken about it, the sheikh suspected that Aretha was aware of his interest and considered it a personal slight. He saw it in the way she so jealously guarded him whenever Aurora was around, saw it with the way she would take out her anger and insecurities on her sister...like now.

Aurora had just entered the dining hall when Aretha started shrieking.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The younger girl froze.

“Did I not teach you how to walk? To do it like a lady instead of galloping and stomping like a horse?” Aretha gestured to the sheikh furiously. “Do you want everyone to think that the sheikh is marrying into a family of Thoroughbreds?” She wanted to say more but was forced to swallow the rest of her words when she saw the sheikh turning her way with cold, dark eyes.

“Enough of that, milady.” The words, albeit softly spoken, were clearly a command. “You know it doesn’t matter to me. I do not insist on formalities with your family.”

Aretha’s lips tightened. “Don’t spoil her, Your Highness. You’re only making it worse. She needs to remember these things so she won’t mess up at our wedding.”

When the sheikh was about to retort, Aurora said hastily, “She’s right, Your Highness. Let me try it again.” Hurrying back to the doors, Aurora took care not to let her usual exuberance show as she retraced her steps, and she walked with such grace this time that she was unaware of how elegant she appeared, more so than Aretha could have ever aspired.

Aurora turned to her sister upon reaching her chair. “Is that okay, Aretha?” There was no note of sarcasm in her tone. It was clear in her hopeful expression that she only yearned for the older woman’s approval.

“It’s passable.” Aretha’s voice was clipped, but the envious resentment in her gaze betrayed her true feelings.

Aurora, however, appeared oblivious to her sister’s animosity and simply shrugged as she took her seat, saying cheerfully, “I’ll be sure to improve in time.”

Mayhap so, the sheikh thought, but unfortunately the same could not be said for the rest of the evening.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >31

Advertisement
Too Hard to Love – A Billionaire Breaks My Heart Read Online Marian Tee http://www.ilovenovels.com/too-hard-to-love-a-billionaire-breaks-my-heart-read-online-marian-tee Sun, 01 Feb 2026 09:23:22 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/too-hard-to-love-a-billionaire-breaks-my-heart-read-online-marian-tee Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Authors: Marian Tee Advertisement

Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >66

This was previously published as Bad Boy Billionaire (Jaak and Ilse).

She wanted him as a client. The billionaire wanted her as his lover.

Heiress-turned-pauper Ilse Muir had no time for love, but she also couldn't say no when bad boy billionaire Jaak de Konigh offered to be her best friend instead.

She wanted their relationship to stay platonic, but Jaak took her V-card instead.

And just when she needed him the most, he broke her heart by walking out of her life. For good

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

Eleven years ago

St. Valentine, Contini

“Mind if I join you?” At his younger brother’s nod, Willem de Konigh stepped out to join Jaak on the balcony. Behind them, the rest of the chateau was still blanketed in the quiet of sleep, their three younger siblings unknowingly missing out on the chance to say goodbye to Jaak.

“Are you here to change my mind?” Jaak’s tone was light and humorous.

“You know me better than that,” was his older brother’s mild reply.

Jaak laughed. Standing almost as tall as his brother, he possessed the same blue eyes that the de Konighs were famous for. But unlike Willem’s blond good looks that made women all over Europe think of him as a real-life Prince Charming, Jaak’s ebony black hair and trademark smirk lent the younger de Konigh a devilishly wicked aura. If these were the olden days, he would have no doubt been mistaken for a rakish pirate, a man guaranteed to steal the virginity of any lady in his presence.

The grandfather clock inside the chateau chimed out a heavy tune, and both brothers instinctively stiffened at the unwanted reminder of the time. Even though a decade had already passed since they had escaped their father’s brutality, there were still things they were struggling – and failing – to forget.

It was two o’clock in the morning, and not so long ago, this was the hour of the night that insanity, cultivated by years of alcoholism and emotional instability, would take over their father.

Willem’s beatings would start, an almost-nightly ritual that left him bloodied and broken.

And Jaak had not known.

He had not known because he, unlike Willem, had been the apple of his father’s eye, the only one among his children that Edgar de Konigh had deigned to notice.

Or maybe he had not known because he hadn’t wanted to, Jaak thought bitterly. Maybe even then, he had been a weak and spineless idiot who had idolized his father—-

The same father that had turned his eldest son into a punching bag because he didn’t have the guts to beat his wife for cheating—-

“I am aware it’s pointless to say this, but as I like being thorough—-”

“You’ll say it anyway,” Jaak finished.

“Correct.” Willem inclined his head in agreement.

“Then consider the words said,” Jaak murmured evenly, “and disregarded – courteously, mind you.”

A brief grin cracked Willem’s mask. “Bullshit.”

Jaak rolled his eyes. “If the press could only hear you now.”

Willem’s gaze turned towards their surroundings. It was another beautiful December day in the north of Contini, the kingdom that their paternal grandmother had ruled since she was eighteen years old. Snow completely covered the roofs and roads, but the wintry landscape was enlivened by splashes of color coming from hardy perennials lining the sidewalks. Yellow mahonia and winter jasmine grew next the occasional blooms of snapdragons, violas, and cyclamen, with its petals boasting an ombre display from deep red to pale pink to white.

The ten-bedroom chateau that stood behind them was just as eye-catching, with its ornamental brick façade and pillared entrance.

“We have had a good life, haven’t we?” Willem asked reflectively. His kind of people represented the tiniest fraction in the world that literally had more money than they could ever spend in various lifetimes. Their wealth was boundless, but more miraculously than that, Willem had also been blessed with brothers and sisters he would die to protect – and who would do the same for him. The same could even be said for the Queen of Contini, their grandmother, and the large brood of cousins they had grown up with.

They might have not lucked out on the parental department, but considering all the other blessings they had received—-

Willem saw no cause for complaint.

At the end of the day, they had more than most other people could ever dream of having, and it was for this sole reason why Willem didn’t even think of praying to God to make his younger brother stay.

Jaak glanced at his older brother, asking mockingly, “Are you about to become emotional?” He feigned a light shudder, saying, “Because that would be horrendous.”

Willem only gazed at him, blue eyes remaining unreadable, and his hard face unyielding. It was clear that he wasn’t willing to make this easy for his younger brother.

“You knew this would happen sooner or later.” Jaak shoved his fists into his pockets in an effort to curb the frustration inside of him. “I stayed for as long as I could, and I swear to God I did try to put everything behind me—-” His tone became uncontrollably savage. “But I can’t. Our family means everything to me—-”

“Then stay,” Willem said simply.

Jaak rejected the suggestion with a sharp shake of his head. “Not until I feel I deserve it.” Disapproval flashed in his older brother’s eyes, but Jaak didn’t let it stop him. “I need to pay for my sins,” he grated out, “but if you won’t make me pay them—-”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >66

Advertisement
The Greek Billionaire’s Overlooked Wife – A Billionaire Breaks My Heart Read Online Marian Tee http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-greek-billionaires-overlooked-wife-a-billionaire-breaks-my-heart-read-online-marian-tee Sun, 01 Feb 2026 09:23:20 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/the-greek-billionaires-overlooked-wife-a-billionaire-breaks-my-heart-read-online-marian-tee Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Insta-Love Authors: Marian Tee Advertisement

Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 28033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >29

My Greek billionaire husband never saw me…until I asked for a divorce.
Everyone thinks I’m living the dream—married to Leonidas Gazis, a former racing champion who looks like a modern-day god and commands empires with a single glance.
But they don’t know about the eight years of separate bedrooms. The mistress in Milan. The marriage that was never anything more than a pit stop for him.
I asked my husband for a divorce, thinking he’d wave the checkered flag and let me go.
Instead, Leonidas refuses to sign—and demands I give him a chance to make our marriage real.
The only problem? He didn’t want me until he found out I invented the technology that could get him back on the track.

Note: This book also includes a bonus copy of The Greek Billionaire’s Email Bride

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Part One

Leonidas

These two were good together, Mrs. Sanchez thought fondly as she watched her billionaire boss gently wake his wife from her nap.

The young Mrs. Gazis had fallen asleep somewhere over the Atlantic, her head tilting toward the window of the private jet, a tablet still clutched in her hands. Something technical on the screen, full of diagrams and equations that Mrs. Sanchez couldn’t begin to decipher. The girl was always working on something, always lost in her world of machines and calculations.

But now Leonidas was crouched beside her seat, one hand carefully removing the tablet before it could slip, the other brushing a strand of dark hair from his wife’s face. The gesture was remarkably tender, so unexpectedly soft from a man who commanded boardrooms with the mere lift of an eyebrow.

In the decades she had been working for the Gazis family, she had seen Leonidas grow from a reckless young racing prodigy into the controlled, leonine figure he was today. Golden-haired, tawny-eyed, with that single streak of silver at his temple that only made him look more untamed rather than older. A modern-day monarch, ruling his billion-dollar empire with quiet, absolute authority.

And yet here he was, handling his sleeping wife like she was something precious and delicate.

It would have made more sense if their first stop from Athens had been Monaco. That was where the business waited, after all. But Leonidas had always been protective toward the young Mrs. Gazis, and so Mrs. Sanchez and the rest of the staff had simply exchanged knowing smiles when they’d seen the flight plan.

Athens to New York, and then the crew was to enjoy a paid leave while Mr. Gazis flew commercial (first class, of course) to Monaco, and only upon his return to New York would the couple use the private jet to fly back to Athens.

All this trouble, Mrs. Sanchez thought with quiet amusement, just so his wife wouldn’t have to deal with the hassle of flying commercial.

“Lexy.” His voice was low, patient. “We’ve landed.”

Mrs. Gazis stirred, blinking those serious dark eyes. For a moment she looked disoriented, a small crease forming between her brows. Then she registered her husband’s face, and something in her expression settled.

Not joy, exactly. Not the swooning adoration Mrs. Sanchez had seen from other trophy wives. Just...calm. Recognition. Like he was a familiar landmark in an unfamiliar landscape.

“Already?” Lexy sat up straighter, reaching automatically for the tablet Leonidas had already set aside. “I was in the middle of—”

“It can wait.” The billionaire’s tone was gentle but firm.

“I guess.” Hers was of quick acquiescence, and hearing this had Mrs. Sanchez struggling to keep her face blank. The truth was, the young Mrs. Gazis might look innocent and biddable, but she could be surprisingly stubborn on most things...except where her husband was concerned. What Leonidas said, Leonidas got...because Lexy trusted her husband to always have her best interests at heart.

Leonidas rose to his full height with the unconscious grace of a man who had been impeccably dressed since birth. “Come. The car is waiting.”

Another round of discreet smiles were exchanged among the staff as they listened to their handsome and normally aloof boss betray his humanity in the next few minutes, with Leonidas acting more like a parent would with a forgetful child as he reminded Lexy about keeping her belongings safe and warning her against talking to strangers.

“But I’ve never been the friendly type,” Lexy protested. “You know how much I hate talking to anyone—”

“Ah, yes.” His tone was sardonic. “My mistake. You don’t enjoy talking to anyone indeed. You just prefer to open your wallet and sign checks for anyone who asks you for money.”

His wife frowned, he raised a brow in challenge, but when she opened her mouth to protest, Leonidas held his hand up and turned to face Mrs. Sanchez and the rest of the staff, and...oh dear. Had their boss known all along that they had been watching and listening?

“Do tell, Mrs. Sanchez,” the billionaire drawled. “Am I right or am I right?”

Mrs. Sanchez and the others smiled apologetically at Lexy. As much as they wanted to take their young mistress’s side, they wanted her safe even more, and so—

“I’m sorry, dear, but I’m afraid Mr. Gazis is indeed right.”

Lexy did make an easy mark for most people, with her stubborn desire to give everyone the benefit of the doubt...even if all signs pointed to the other party being a con artist.

Just last month, she’d nearly wired fifty thousand euros to a “charity” that turned out to be a front for money laundering. The month before that, she’d given her credit card number to a caller claiming to be from the bank. And the incident with the “stranded tourist” in Mykonos had required actual legal intervention.

It was remarkable in a way, how someone as academically brilliant as Lexy could be so...disconnected with reality. Perhaps it was because of her sheltered upbringing that Lexy seemed constitutionally incapable of believing anyone would lie to her face.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >29

Advertisement
Beautiful Burden – East Coast Mafia Read Online Marian Tee http://www.ilovenovels.com/beautiful-burden-east-coast-mafia-read-online-marian-tee Sun, 01 Feb 2026 09:23:04 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/beautiful-burden-east-coast-mafia-read-online-marian-tee Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Taboo Authors: Marian Tee Advertisement

Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 32532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >32

She taught a killing machine how to love. Too bad she also taught him how to break hearts…starting with hers.

I was sold by my own cousin to human traffickers. He’s the ex-mafia billionaire who killed everyone in his path to save me.

I know I should just be grateful. But Zacharie’s touch has me wanting more.

Before I know it, I’m completely, pathetically, desperately in love with him…only to have Zacharie turn me away for another woman

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

HOW DID I GET HERE?

No, it's not a rhetorical question. I honestly can't remember how I got here.

I press my palm against the mattress beneath me, velvet, the kind that would cost a fortune to clean if you spilled anything on it, and push myself upright. The movement sends a pickaxe through the back of my skull, and I have to breathe through the urge to vomit.

Okay. Okay, Mira.

Channel your inner Jassy.

What would a criminology intern do?

The answer comes to me as soon as I ask myself this.

Assess the scene.

The room is small. A cubicle, really, maybe three meters by three meters if I'm being generous. The bed I woke up on dominates most of the space, its burgundy velvet coverlet the same shade as the curtains drawn tight against the far wall. No nightstand. No lamp. No visible light source, and yet the room glows amber, like someone dipped it in honey and secrets.

I touch the back of my head and wince. There's a lump there, tender and throbbing, but my fingers come away clean. No blood. Small mercies.

A door sits to my left. Dark wood, brass handle, the kind of old-fashioned craftsmanship that belongs in a Perry Mason courtroom scene.

Oh, a door!

I'm on my feet before I can think better of it, and the room tilts dangerously, but I grab the wall and stay upright. Three steps. That's all it takes to cross this glorified closet. My hand wraps around the brass handle, cold, smooth, freshly polished, and I pull.

Nothing.

I push.

Still nothing.

A part of me already expected it to be locked, but my heart still cracks a little when suspicion hardens into reality. I press my ear to the wood and hear music. Something jazzy, brassy, the kind of song flappers would dance to in old black-and-white films.

I don't bother trying to shoulder it open. I'm optimistic, not illogical. That door is solid oak at least, and I have the upper body strength of someone whose primary exercise is reaching for the top shelf of her bookcase.

My gaze slides to the velvet curtains.

The fabric is heavy when I pull it aside, the kind of thick material that would muffle screams if someone pressed their face into it. My brain supplies that detail cheerfully, and I tell it to shut up.

Oh.

It's a full-length window.

No latch. No hinges. No way to open it.

But what's on the other side—

I flatten my palms against the glass and stare.

A...bordello?

Or what a bordello would look like if someone with too much money and a Gatsby complex designed it. Gold drips from every surface: the crown molding, the frames of paintings I can't quite make out, the champagne flutes clutched in gloved hands. Velvet booths in deep jewel tones line the walls below me, emerald, sapphire, ruby, each one occupied by figures in evening wear.

And masks. Everyone is wearing masks. Half-face, Venetian style, the kind you see at masquerade balls in movies where someone always ends up dead by the third act.

My cubicle shares a wall with this space, the window positioned like a display case. Like I'm an exhibit. Below me and to the right, I can see other windows just like mine, each one framed by the same burgundy curtains.

Some are open.

Some show other girls.

My stomach drops.

Jassy would take notes. Jassy would count the exits, memorize faces, calculate her odds. But Jassy is fictional, a character I sketch in the margins of my notebooks when I should be paying attention in class, and I'm just Mira, who can't even remember how she got here.

Think. Think!

I'm still dressed in the same clothes I remember wearing this morning. Was it this morning? My oversized cardigan and worn jeans, my sneakers still on my feet. That's something. That's something, right? It means they didn't—

I stop that thought before it can finish.

Against the far wall of the bordello, dominating the space like a countdown to someone's doom, a grandfather clock glows. Except it's not a real grandfather clock. It's a digital display made to look like one, all golden scrollwork and Roman numerals rendered in LED, and the numbers are ticking down.

2:31:47

2:31:46

2:31:45

Half an hour until 3AM.

The masked figures keep glancing at it. Some tap their fingers against champagne flutes in rhythm with the seconds. Others lean in to whisper to their companions, gestures sharp with anticipation. A woman in a sapphire gown checks a small card in her hand, then looks up at my window.

At me.

Whatever happens at 3AM, they're waiting for it. They're excited for it.

I press my forehead to the cool glass and try to remember.

My last memory was—

Pain seizes my temples. White-hot, blinding, like someone's driven a spike through my skull. My vision blurs, the golden bordello smearing into a watercolor nightmare, and I feel myself swaying, my knees buckling, my shoulder hitting the glass—

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >32

Advertisement
Accidentally His Bride – Oops I’m in a Story Read Online Marian Tee http://www.ilovenovels.com/accidentally-his-bride-oops-im-in-a-story-read-online-marian-tee Wed, 07 Jan 2026 10:40:23 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/accidentally-his-bride-oops-im-in-a-story-read-online-marian-tee Genre: Alpha Male Authors: Marian Tee Advertisement

Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >90

A magical bookshop. A mafia king. A wedding she never meant to crash.

Bailey Sutton falls asleep reading a choose-your-own-romance and wakes up in the story…wearing the wrong dress, at the wrong wedding, married to the wrong man.

Devyn Chaleur is a French mafia king who rules his territory with ice and iron. He doesn’t believe in accidents. He doesn’t believe in love. And he definitely doesn’t believe the bookish stranger who claims she fell through a magical door.

But someone murdered his real bride. And Bailey—clumsy, kind, completely out of her depth—might be the only one who can help him find the killer.

The problem? The more time she spends with the king, the harder it is to remember she’s supposed to be finding her way home…while unraveling a conspiracy that threatens both of their worlds.

Accidental marriage. Grumpy-sweet hero. Bookworm heroine. Trips into love. A fast-paced slow-burn portal fantasy romance set in modern-day New England. This book also includes a bonus copy of Olympus Bewitched

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

THE MOMENT I STEP OUT of Lauve Studio, I put my earbuds in.

It's instinct at this point. Something bad happens, I reach for a book. It's been that way since I was eight years old and figured out that stories were better than real life. Or at least, better than the version of real life that involved my father's voice shaking the walls and my mother's silence filling up all the spaces in between.

Books were my door out. Still are.

Today's door is Olympus Bewitched by Alice Bloome. I've listened to it so many times I've lost count, but that's the point. I don't need surprises right now. I need Blair and her awkward crush on Mr. Handsome and the cozy magic of Silver Mist. I need a world where self-taught witches solve crimes and the mysterious man at the diner counter turns out to be worth all the pining.

The narrator's voice fills my ears, warm and familiar, as I start walking.

"Magnetic hazel eyes collided with mine, and I quickly snapped my head back. As mortifying as it was to admit, having our gazes meet was already more excitement than I could handle..."

I smile despite everything. Blair is such a mess. I love her for it.

My feet carry me down the sidewalk while my mind stays in Panda's Diner, watching Blair try not to combust from the sheer proximity of a beautiful man. I'm not really paying attention to where I'm going. That's the whole point of this. To not be here, in my body, on this street, in this city where Marilyn Yuson just walked back into my life with a designer engagement ring and a smile that said I remember exactly who you are, and isn't this fun?

It's not fun.

It's the opposite of fun.

But I'm not going to think about that right now. I'm going to think about Blair, who just spilled coffee on her textbook, and Mr. Handsome, who's about to do something impossibly charming—

A raindrop lands on my nose.

I blink, looking up. The sky has gone the color of wet slate, and even as I'm processing this, the clouds open up and rain comes down in sheets.

Great. Perfect. Exactly what today needed.

I pull my jacket over my head and look around for shelter. I'm on a street I don't recognize. Old brick buildings, iron lampposts, cobblestones slick with rain. How long was I walking? Where even am I?

And then I see it.

A shop, tucked between two taller buildings like something that doesn't want to be found. Light glows from its windows, and my photographer brain immediately starts cataloging: warm color temperature, maybe 2700K, the kind of tungsten glow that makes everything look like a memory. The buildings on either side cast long shadows over the entrance, but the window itself is lit from within, drawing the eye exactly where it wants you to look.

Someone designed this. Someone understood that light reveals and shadow conceals, and they used both to make this little shop feel like a secret meant only for whoever stumbles across it.

There's no sign outside. No name. Just the light, and the rain, and the strange pull in my chest that makes me pause the audiobook and take out my earbuds.

The rain is soaking through my jacket now. I should find a coffee shop, something normal, somewhere with WiFi and overpriced lattes and people looking at their phones.

Instead, I push open the door.

THE FIRST THING I NOTICE is the warmth.

Not just temperature, though that too. The kind of warmth that seeps into your bones after you've been cold for too long. But something else. Something that settles over me like a blanket I didn't know I needed, pressing gently against all the tight, anxious places in my chest until they start to loosen.

I stand just inside the doorway, dripping onto a worn Persian rug, and try to make sense of what I'm seeing.

The shop is bigger than it looked from outside. Much bigger. The ceiling soars overhead, crisscrossed with dark wooden beams, and from those beams hang dozens of brass lanterns. The light they cast is uneven, intentional. Bright where it wants you to linger, dim where it doesn't. A photographer's lighting setup, I think, except no photographer would have this kind of patience. This kind of craft.

The brightest glow falls on the books.

Of course it does. That's what this place wants you to see.

Bookshelves line every wall, floor to ceiling, made of wood so dark it swallows the light around it. The books themselves are another story. Leather-bound spines in jewel tones catch the glow and throw it back: emerald, ruby, sapphire, amber. Cracked paperbacks with yellowed pages nestle between them, their covers faded to soft pastels. The spines aren't arranged alphabetically or by size. They're arranged by color, I realize. Gradients that shift from warm to cool and back again, leading the eye on a journey around the room.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >90