THE WEREWOLF BILLIONAIRE WICKED STRANGER

I was supposed to be in Room 30, the cheapest room. I mistakenly entered Room 300, the billionaire's den.

He was Brandon Crestwood. Billionaire. Alpha. A werewolf who hasn't touched a woman in 5 years.

I was Serena, a broke girl whose fiancé dumped her for her cousin on the same day.

One night in his bed was supposed to mean nothing. One night to forget my shame.

But I got pregnant.

He found me one month later, crying in the rain, my cheap shoes soaking, my heart broken. He looked at my stomach and his golden wolf eyes glowed.

"You are carrying my pup," he growled. "You think you can run?"

He didn't ask. He took me. To his mansion. To his bed. To his world.

Now my ex-fiancé wants me back. My cousin is begging. And the billionaire who owns this city is kneeling in front of me saying:

"You were never the girl in Room 30, Serena. You were always the Queen of Room 300."

I entered his room as a nobody. I will leave it as his Luna. His Billionaire's Wicked Stranger.

This time, I won't be the one begging.