8105 Book(s) Related to the bakery at the edge of the fae wood

In the silent halls of the Aurora Research Institute, Dr. Eli Carter, a brilliant but lonely biologist, spends his nights unraveling the mysteries of life. His world changes forever when a captured alien prince, Kael, is brought in for a secret study. As Eli studies Kael, the two form an unexpected bond, discovering a connection that transcends species and boundaries.

When Eli learns of Kael’s tragic plight—a prince torn from his home and forced into captivity—he vows to help him escape. But with the institute’s ruthless director watching their every move and time running out, their love is put to the ultimate test. Can Eli and Kael defy the odds and find freedom together, or will their love be lost among the stars?

[Warning: Mature Content]

Talia always believed that on her nineteenth birthday she would be marked by the one person she trusted the most, her best friend Scott. He had promised her since they were children, and she held onto that promise with all her heart. But her dream shatters the moment she discovers Scott in the guest room with her step-sister, revealing that everything she believed in was a lie.

Heartbroken and desperate to escape the humiliation, Talia runs deep into the woods. There, she encounters a powerful and mysterious Alpha, and in a moment of vulnerability they share a night that changes her life forever. What Talia doesn’t know is that the Alpha marked her that night.

When she returns home, the mark is discovered and the pack is thrown into chaos. Furious and ashamed, her father decides she must choose a mate immediately to protect the pack’s reputation. But instead of letting her choose, he forces a mate upon her.

Now trapped in a life she never wanted, Talia must face the consequences of a mark she doesn’t understand. Meanwhile, the powerful Alpha who marked her is searching for her, and he is determined to claim what belongs to him no matter the cost.

Lauren is a brilliant journalist, but her curiosity puts her in danger when she begins to investigate the steps of a feared Italian mobster.
Enzo is cruel and calculating and makes Lauren his new obsession, he starts controlling her steps for a personal revenge for the story Lauren published about him.
However, when he kidnaps her, he develops deeper feelings for the woman he planned to kill. Meanwhile, Vicenzo, a cold and calculating gangster is planning revenge against the journalist who exposed him, but he did not count on looking at her and exploding with desire.

“I never forgave you, Hayley. You are horribly mistaken if you think showing up on another man’s arm erases your sins.
Keep running and I’ll keep chasing. You are my wife. You belong to me.”

I cannot help the derisive smirk that curves my lips.
“Nice speech, Mr. Hotshot. Was that supposed to scare me? Do well to remember your place. The Hayley who begged at your feet is dead.
If you want me back, you will learn to beg. Preferably on your knees…”


For six years, Hayley sacrificed her life and career as an international programmer to play the role of “perfect little wife” for Edward DaSilva and his family.

And what did she get in return? An emotionally unavailable husband, in-laws who treated her like filth… and a dead son.

To make things worse, Edward is hell bent on punishing her for the death of their only son.

With a heart heavy with grief, Hayley flees Manhattan. Three years later, she returns as the City’s most brilliant hacker — unbreakable, desired, and standing beside another man.

But Edward Da Silva never forgot about his wife. He wants her back, and this time, he’s not asking. He’s chasing.

They call him the King of the Upper East Side. And this king would fight to the death to keep his queen.

There prevailed to be six kingdoms consisting of humans, werewolves, vampires, fairies, elves, and dragon kingdoms.

A hostile war transpired between the dragons and the werewolves. The very war destroyed a lot of lives and the dragons' kingdom.

However, the werewolves were getting defeated and the human kingdom agreed on assisting their allies which were the werewolves. But then, amidst the battle, something significant happened.

Alpha Jeffrey, the king of the werewolves was at the point of winning against the Almighty king of the dragons.

He zipped the arrow at the dragon king. However, his strike jabbed right into the heart of King Dawson, the human king.

Anguishly, this brought a great disputable conflict between the humans... A wave of venomous anger and pure hatred against the werewolves.

When the war was won, the dragons vanished from the earth. Then, the battle between the humans and the werewolves arose.

Queen Isle being the spouse of king Dawson, swore with her life to avenge her husband's death and make Alpha Jeffery... Her slave.


Extracted from the story.


"Strip!" the feminine cold voice, ordered.

A thick groan, a scratchy voice responded to her utters. "And what if I don't, woman!" he growls outrageously yet, weakly.

"Then, await to withstand the dance of the devils, Alpha!" she chuckled, evilly and viciously.

And then, she walked out in her regal strides away from the room.

She is the queen, the tyrant ruler of Denmark's kingdom.

Her voice is authority, her voice is the law!

No one dares to mess up with her, no one dares to weigh a war on her kingdom. She's like a fire, that not even the ocean can quench her whole.

Even the moon is extremely envious of the voluminous beauty she carries.

She's known as the tyrant Queen Isle.

To pay off my brother's gambling debts, I became Matthew's mistress.
Because he needed a wife as a shield, we got married.
After marriage I tried to play his wife until his first love came back.
I deliberately provoked her and took the opportunity to file for divorce.
After the divorce, I found out I was pregnant, and five years later I returned to the city with my daughter......

After a devastating accident erased six months of her memory, Jasmine Reyes returns home only to find a mysterious boy watching her from the window across the street every single day. She thinks he's obsessed. She doesn't remember that she once loved him or that the accident that nearly killed her was never an accident at all. As buried memories resurface, Jasmine uncovers a deadly conspiracy, a forgotten first love, and a truth powerful enough to get them both killed.

“Fifty million dollars. Who dares to raise the bid?” The crippled man’s voice boomed through the auction hall, silencing everyone.

I froze on the stage, the blinding lights burning my skin. I was Item 344, a slave, a toy to be sold to the highest bidder. My father had sold me, and now, I was being fought over like a piece of meat.

“Sold!” The auctioneer screamed, trembling with excitement.

I looked at my buyer. He sat in a wheelchair, his legs covered by a blanket, his face handsome but cold as ice. A cripple? I scoffed inwardly. I was a hybrid—half vampire, half werewolf. Even without an inner wolf, I had powers. I could control minds. I would wipe his memory, steal his money, and escape before the night was over.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I hissed as his guards approached me. I pulled out a hidden knife, ready to slit throats. But a sudden, overpowering dizziness hit me. My body went weak, my vision blurred.

When I woke up, I was in a luxurious car, bound by cuffs. The cripple was sitting next to me, watching me with predator eyes.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Your new master,” he replied calmly.
“You wish.” I muttered.

In a flash, his hand wrapped around my throat. He moved faster than any human, faster than any cripple should be able to. His grip was steel.

“You seem to forget that I own you now,” he whispered dangerously, his face inches from mine. “Act as my mate for the Alpha selection, and I let you live. Refuse, and I’ll kill you myself.”

I tried to slip into his mind, to control him, to make him let me go. I pushed against his mental barriers, expecting them to crumble like everyone else’s.
But I hit a wall.
Shock paralyzed me. I couldn't read him.

He smirked, as if he knew exactly what I was trying to do. “We’re home, Jaslyn. Welcome to hell.”

Nymera Lancaster is a junior lawyer who discovers through a divorce case that her husband was already married with children, she goes into labor from the shock and wakes up in a werewolf world wearing a stranger's face. With no way back and no choice but to survive, she does the only thing she knows how to do, which is to be a lawyer. Kade Merrick, the Alpha Lawyer whose word is law, has never met anyone who argues back the way she does and he is immediately intrigued but Nymera is living on borrowed identity, the woman whose body she occupies wants it back and the Beta who wants Kade will do anything to expose her. When her true identity is exposed and both worlds make their claim on her, Nymera must fight the most important case of her life with no allies and everything to lose.

Clara Vale lost her award, her career, and her dignity on the same red carpet.

The world thought she ran to hide.

They were wrong.

She ran to the only place that had ever made her feel clean: a mountain town above the snowline, where a quiet rescue captain named Elias Roan had lived in her secret account, her unfinished letters, and her heart for three years.

But shame follows fast. So does the man who ruined her.

And when Clara's past climbs the mountain to destroy her one last time, Elias may be the only person willing to stand between her and the crowd.

For three years, Mara Ellis raised twins for a dead man.

Then the comments appeared in the air.

They said Caleb Ward was alive.

They said he was about to marry another woman.

They said Mara was only the abandoned side character who would show up too late.

Mara folded one more tiny shirt, looked at her sleeping children, and decided the story had never met a mother with overdue bills.

The night before our mating ceremony, my Alpha boyfriend was tangled up with my brother's fiancée.

He was my brother's ride-or-die companion, and the son-in-law our pack cherished most.

My brother was devastated by this betrayal and charged toward the border that very day, never to return.

Yet everyone kept urging me to forgive them.

His comrade pleaded: "Kael knows he messed up. For the sake of all these years of brotherhood, just give him another chance."

The Elder advised: "I know you're angry, but he's now our pack's Alpha. Making things too bitter won't be good for your future either. Elara, let it go."

Even the usually fair Council Chief was persuading me: "Elara, he's a war hero. It's not easy for a pack to cultivate an Alpha... some things... require considering the bigger picture."

I stopped arguing and simply knelt before my brother's grave for an entire night.

Then I submitted my severance application and moved to new territory with my parents, who had gone white-haired overnight.

Before leaving, Kael blocked my path with reddened eyes: "Elara, do you hate me this much? Won't you even give me a chance to atone?"

I looked at him calmly: "Your sin, like my brother's life, can never be repaid."

After that day, he continued rising through the pack ranks, earning honors, as if nothing had ever happened.

While our family stayed away for three whole years.

I thought I'd never have any connection with Kael again in this lifetime.

Until a recall order brought him back before me once more.

"Elara, long time no see."

After the catastrophic war between the four great races ended in ceasefire, the Supernatural Council established an ironclad law—the Pact of Heirs.
Every hundred years, a Mating Season would open, where eligible heirs would compete to determine who would rule the world for the next century.
In my previous life, I chose to marry the wolf prince Darius, desperate to escape my status as a black-feathered orphan in the eagle clan.
The wolf clan's rule was brutally simple: whoever bore the first child carrying the matrilineal eagle-eye bloodline would claim dominion over all. I gave Darius that child. My son secured his throne and granted him absolute power.
My sister Cecily—the chieftain's true daughter—had set her sights on the vampire heir, drawn by their ancient nobility and dark allure. She married into their clan willingly.
But vampire bonds were cold as death itself. Her human-adjacent body couldn't sustain their offspring. She lost her fertility and became a cautionary tale whispered at every gathering.
Twisted by jealousy and shame, she decided I was to blame for her failures. She drugged my wine at a feast, then hurled me off Storm Cliff while I was too weak to spread my wings.
As I plummeted toward the rocks, someone tried to catch me—Kade, the exiled wingless dragon, his dark-scaled hand reaching desperately from a ledge.
But above us, Cecily stood at the cliff's edge, smiling as she cut through the safety rope he'd thrown. I hit the stones and everything went black.
When I opened my eyes again, I could still feel the phantom warmth of Kade's hand and the venom in Cecily's smile.
But somehow, impossibly, I was back—returned to the very day the Mating Season began.
Through the one-way scrying glass at the Observation Altar, I looked down at the moonlit sacrificial platform below. Cecily was already there. And she wasn't alone.
She'd been reborn too. I was certain of it.
But she didn't know what I knew—that Darius was a monster to his lovers.
During the full moon, when the wolf took over completely, he'd killed more than one partner in his bed.

In my previous life, on the night of our wedding anniversary, my husband Bryan brought his pregnant mistress, Victoria, into our home. Driven to the edge, I slashed my wrists to force him to kick her out.
No one could have predicted her blood sugar would suddenly crash in the freezing storm outside. She collapsed into a flooded ditch and froze to death before anyone found her.
Everyone ruled it a tragic accident, but Bryan decided her blood was on my hands.
Months later, when I went into labor, he abused his position as my doctor to deliberately delay my care. He left me to writhe through dozens of hours of agonizing contractions and severe hemorrhaging until I bled out.
When, with hands slick with my own blood, I begged him to save our baby, he calmly peeled off his soiled surgical gloves. The look in his eyes was merciless.
"Heartbroken?" he sneered. "Good. Take the brat down to hell with you to keep Victoria company."
An icy, suffocating darkness swallowed me whole.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact night of our anniversary—the very moment Bryan, bringing the freezing rain in with him, protectively guided Victoria through my front door.

"You drive me crazy, Lilith. Just one night... I’ll give you whatever you want. Please let me taste you," my billionaire CEO whimpered, pinning me against the wall, his hot breath brushing my ear.

He is obsessed with my new face, my body, and my ruthless attitude. He is willing to abandon everything just to get into my bed.

If only he knew that the flawless skin he’s kissing right now used to be covered in the acid his mistress poured on me.
If only he knew that I am his dead, naive wife—the one he threw into an ice cellar to die along with our unborn child, just to steal my family's inheritance.

"Anything I want?" I trace his jawline, smiling sweetly as my nail digs into his skin. "Then give me your empire, William. And your life."

I rose from the ashes with a new face and a hidden will. He wants to ruin my lipstick, but I came back to ruin his life.

My mother stared at my body, fused to the sofa, and waited forty minutes before calling 911.
She cheerfully told my father the news, deciding they should celebrate with a nice dinner.
Of course.
After all, they could finally be rid of the burden I’d become—no more tormenting me, no more keeping me locked away.
They could go back to being the respectable parents everyone thought they were.
But—
Someone was bound to see the truth.

My fiancé, Liam Miller, slapped me more than a dozen times in front of everyone over his childhood sweetheart.
Then he shoved me down a spiral staircase.
Both my legs were shattered. My skull cracked open. I spent an entire month in the ICU.
He never came to see me.
Not once.
He was too busy staying by Sophia’s side, planning her birthday party, and getting down on one knee in front of everyone to propose to her.
As for me, I couldn’t even get through the doors of his headquarters anymore. My access had been revoked. My position had been taken. Every trace of my place in his world had been erased.
Nine years.
From nineteen to twenty-eight, I gave him the best years of my life.
In the end, I had given them to the wrong man.
On the day I was discharged, I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cling to him and beg for answers.
I simply called my mother.
“Mom,” I said calmly, “that overseas mafia empire you wanted me to inherit? I’m ready to take it.”
There was a brief silence on the other end.
Then my mother said, “I’ve waited ten years for this day.”
The night before my flight, Liam’s messages flooded my phone.
“Emma, I was wrong. Don’t go.”
What do you think?
Would I ever look back?

For eighteen months, I loved Asher in secret, betting all my pride and heart on our hidden affair. He took my tenderness while prioritizing his rich fiancée, mocking my love and sacrificing my future for his family’s marriage deal. Shamed online, shunned at school and tormented, I made no fuss. I repaid every dollar he gave me, cut all ties, transferred schools and rebuilt myself. He broke off his engagement, lost his pride and begged me to come back—yet all I offered was a final goodbye.

47 deaths.
48 iterations.
He sold his brother a death trap and called it a farm.
When the dead rose, the experiment began—and the only way out was through.

I met my future husband from thirty years later in a late-night diner. He knows every hidden habit and secret of mine. Mistaking the star quarterback for my destined love, I endured endless ambiguity and humiliation from him and his stepsister. But when he abandoned me in front of the whole school, I finally learned the truth — the man meant to love me for a lifetime was never him.

Oak Creek thinks my brother, Cole, is a saint. He saved the family legacy and adopted the orphaned daughter of a killer out of the goodness of his heart.
What they don’t know is the price of his halo: Me.
To keep his 'good guy' image, he sacrificed his real sister. He gave her my bed, my home, and my parents.
When I was driven out of town, sleeping in a vandalized trailer, he left me a note: Come home and apologize.
I did come back. But not to apologize.
I'm holding the microphone at the town's biggest festival, looking down at the two thousand people who threw trash at me.
I have a stack of receipts, an unedited tape, and the truth about how my parents really died.
Are you ready to meet the real Hale family?

My husband's body moved over Celeste's, driving into her with brutal force.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning like she did for her three million followers—except this performance was just for him.
I was her assistant. Her best friend, supposedly. Which is how I knew her passcode.
Now I was wedged in the back of her bedroom closet, phone aimed through the gap in the slats, ready to catch the bastard in the act.
Then Celeste's moans ripped into a scream. The mattress lurched violently. Blood poured down the sheets in thick rivers.
Her head hit the floor. Rolled. Stopped right in front of the closet.
Those wide eyes met mine through the darkness.

The day after Lucian was titled Duke, he locked down the estate to find the woman who climbed into his bed.
In my first life, I claimed the honor. He grabbed my hand and sneered, "That woman has a scar."
I froze to death in the ice cellar.
In my second life, Martha slashed her own hand and stepped forward. He ripped her collar open. "She has a cross tattoo on her chest. Do you?"
His hounds tore her throat out in the snow.
Now we're in our third life. The Duke just issued a three-day ultimatum, dead certain that the woman is hiding in the Duchess's wing.
Martha and I stared at each other. We're the only two maids serving the Duchess.

Five years ago, on our wedding day, my fiancée Vivian was in the bridal suite fucking my best man.
Five years later, I returned to New York with my wife—the most powerful Mafia matriarch in Naples. At Atelier Milano, Brandon, the same "best man" who betrayed me, fawned over my custom-tailored suit, groveling to the staff about how desperately he wanted to meet the legendary Mr. Salvatore.
He had no idea...
The man he'd once written off as a pathetic loser was the very person he was now begging to impress.

I married a rapist.
After the wedding, I played the perfect wife. I always took off my makeup after he fell asleep, and reapplied it before he woke up.
My husband loved showing off on his livestream, bragging that women should know their place.
One viewer sent a warning in the chat:
[Run, man. Only vengeful spirits do their makeup in the middle of the night—when their resentment is strongest, the makeup lasts longer!]
I covered my face and grinned wickedly.
Oops, forgot concealer. My corpse marks are showing.

The adoptive brother I'd been secretly in love with for a decade took my virginity on the night of my twentieth birthday, fueled by alcohol.

I thought I had finally found love.

Until I stood outside his half-open apartment door and heard his teammates mocking me.

"Damn, Dax, you actually slept with Elara? That boring good girl?"

My hand froze mid-air above the doorknob.

Dax's tone was dripping with contempt. "Look closely at her face. It's exactly like Cassandra's, isn't it?"

"It's no big deal. She revolves around me every single day. All it took was crooking a finger."

"With Cassandra gone, she's the perfect stand-in to kill time."

The room instantly erupted into a fit of unbridled, mocking laughter.

I dug my nails fiercely into my palms, opened my phone, and found the email I had deliberately ignored for a month.

[Florence Academy of Fine Arts — Exchange Program Confirmation]

My parents ruined my wedding six times.

Every single time, right at the moment the ring was about to slip onto my finger—the first time, Mom knocked over the champagne tower. The second time, Dad drove his pickup truck straight through the floral arch... Either the groom wasn't good enough, or the wedding was too cheap. Each time was more batshit crazy than the last. The sixth time, Mom even held a knife to her own throat, threatening me not to put on the ring.

It made no sense to me—why push me to get married while doing everything to stop me from wearing that ring?

So for the seventh wedding, I chose a small chapel in a remote mountain area, went completely off-grid, dead certain they'd never track me down.

Just as Ethan was about to slide the ring onto my finger—

The chapel doors burst open.

Two figures stumbled in, gasping for air, faces streaked with tears.

My parents.

On our seventh anniversary, Jeffrey brought his mistress home for dinner.

Calla wore my dead mother's necklace and called me a "boring housewife" while I cooked for them. Jeffrey laughed, saying I was lucky he kept me around since I'd never contributed anything to our marriage.

What he didn't know? I'd given up my six-figure tech career to nurse him back from his car accident. Sacrificed everything while he treated me like his personal servant.

For seven years, I endured his cheating and cruelty, thinking love meant sacrifice.

I was wrong.

When I left him the divorce papers, Jeffrey screamed that I'd come crawling back within a week.

But when I never came back, he was the one who lost his mind.

In my last life, Natalie insisted on stepping out of the car to feed a wild grizzly.

I tried to stop her. Daniel shoved me into the bear's path instead — to save her.

The grizzly's teeth tore through my throat. My blood sprayed hot across the snow.

And there was Daniel, my boyfriend of three years, holding Natalie close. Not a scratch on her.

He even raised his phone to film me being ripped apart, then posted it on TikTok with the caption: "She gave her life to protect us." The donations poured in for weeks.

Now my eyes are open again. Natalie's pushing the car door open, sandwich in hand, ready to hand-feed the cubs.

This time, I don't scream. I don't stop her.

I just watch her lean halfway out the door — and lock it behind her.

My husband locked our fouryearold son in a 20°C wine cellar for his mistress. Our boy froze to death.
Lawyers silenced me. I was cast aside.
Three years later, I returned.
At a glittering New York gala, I tore apart every lie Liam and Mia had built. Liam begged for my forgiveness—but I had a solid anchor by my side, and I would never forgive him.

Everyone said I was the happiest woman of the Northern Plains Clan, blessed with the purest love from Eric, the Wolf King.
Then my wolf let out a tormented howl.
Through the soul bond of fated mates, I felt it clearly—
my husband held my maid in his arms, drowning in desperate lust.
That nourishing tonic I’d drunk for three years, which I’d believed was filled with his affection, had only been brewed to keep me barren all along.
"Eric, I want you..."
"All of me is yours, my love. Bear our cub soon."
Those sweet whispers I once held dear shattered me to pieces in an instant.
The whole clan praised us as the perfect pair.
Yet who could have imagined this marriage had been built entirely on lies from the very start?
Since he is such a master of pretense, I suppose it’s time I put on a show of my own.
I will expose the true face of this flawless husband for everyone to see.

My fiancé was going to humiliate me at our own wedding.

I know because I heard him think it.

I'm Isabella Rossi — mafia heiress, future bride to Lorenzo Falcone, the golden boy of New York's underworld. Our marriage was supposed to unite two empires.

I also have a secret. I can read minds. But only when people want to use me, hurt me, or destroy me.

Lorenzo's thoughts had been silent for three years. I thought that meant he loved me.

The night before the wedding, I finally heard him. The mistress he'd planted in the crowd. The fake pregnancy reveal. The plan to humiliate me at the altar so he could play the victim — and steal my family's power in the chaos.

Landon Rhodes and I grew up together, both dreaming of becoming top chefs. But I knew he was the one with a palate kissed by God.

So when Rowan Stone, this street-rat punk, got her claws into him, I took the drinks, the smoke, the slaps for him. When he wanted to skip the National Young Chefs Competition to stay with her drunk ass, I dragged him back to the culinary lab.

He won the championship, got recruited by a three-star Michelin restaurant, graduated and made millions. I became the most invisible prep cook in his kitchen.

Until Rowan wrapped her car around a pole during one of her episodes, and he lured me into a basement.

"This is all your fault! If you'd minded your own damn business, she'd still be alive!"

His foot came down on my right hand. Bones cracking. My fingers ground to pulp.

All those 5 AM trips to the fish market for him. All those nights watching stock simmer for forty-eight hours straight. All the praise he soaked up at final practicals. My sacrifices, and all I got in return was his hatred.

"These worthless hands that can only cut vegetables deserve to rot in the ground with her."

The pain swallowed me whole.

When I wake up again, I'm back to that afternoon when he said he was going to the bar to find her.

This time, I won't stop him.

At seven years old, he pulled me from the rapids—and for the eleven years that followed, I loved this man I called "Uncle."

Then Sophia appeared. She accused me of pushing her down the stairs, and Michael didn't spare me so much as a glance before throwing me out into the storm. I knocked until my hands were raw and bleeding. He never opened the door.

Three years later, he showed up at my workplace, demanding I "come home" with him. His pregnant girlfriend flaunted a twelve-week ultrasound, cooing about how the baby already "looked just like him"—then staged yet another fall, told yet another lie, let out yet another shriek, casting me once more as the heartless monster.

But this time, I won't beg.

This time, I know secrets they don't.

Because that miscarriage three years ago? That baby? That ultrasound?

None of it was real.

The question is—how much has Michael already lost, and can he see the truth before the one person who ever truly loved him is gone for good?

That was supposed to be one of the most anticipated days of my life—the wedding of my best friend, Sarah.
But when I put on my bridesmaid dress, she called me a bitch.
"Get out." Sarah looked at me like I was trash.
"I don't want to see you at my wedding."
I stood frozen in place, staring down at the broken Cartier bracelet she had given me, now lying scattered on the floor.

I was a scholarship student with thirty extra pounds. Del Ashford had two hundred thousand followers and her family's supplement brand on every wall of the athletic center. First week of school, she decided we were going to be best friends.
She said she wanted to help me get in shape. What that actually looked like: I carried her product shipments up three flights of stairs, drafted her emails, and picked up her lunch from the place across campus that didn't deliver.
My roommates started calling me her errand girl behind my back. I let them.
She also introduced me to Beckett Hale. After that, things went the way they went.
She knocked my protein shake over and said I'd burned her. She planted her limited-edition earphones in my bag and told everyone I'd stolen them. The school opened a conduct review. My roommates stopped talking to me.

Beckett said I was the kind of girl who got a little attention and started thinking she deserved more of it.
I couldn't prove any of it. By spring, I was gone.
Some people just aren't built for this, Wren. You know that, right?
Del hadn't even been looking at me when she said it.
Then I opened my eyes and I was back at the party. The night she introduced me to Beckett.

After the apocalypse began, my husband's female assistant stole my viral experiment data for the ninth time. I couldn't take it anymore and confronted her publicly.
My husband said I was just jealous of her, punished me by making me apologize to her in front of everyone, and demoted me.
Later, he sweet-talked me, promising compensation.
The next day, his true love showed up at the lab wearing his family heirloom necklace.
"François felt so bad about me being falsely accused yesterday that he gave me his family necklace."
"I heard this necklace is supposed to go to his wife. Oh, Andrea, you're not mad, are you?"
I just smiled. "Not mad at all. Trash belongs with trash—you two are perfect for each other."
François immediately snapped, "It's just a necklace. No need to be so nasty about it."
"Apologize to Caro right now, or I'll kick you out of the lab and divorce you!"
Watching François defend Caro, I didn't get angry at all.
Once I'm gone, his zombie virus research won't get anywhere.

Seven years married. Seven years reading minds. Still ended up the biggest joke in New York's underworld.

My husband Dante—Mafia boss—put that ring on my finger thinking, "This should be Elena's."

Seven years taking bullets for him. Seven years tortured for him. All I got was his cold contempt.

Then Elena came back with a kid. I became trash.

"Victoria, you disgust me." He crushed me under his boot, had me beaten bloody—all for her.

That's when my heart died.

I didn't explain. Just watched the clock.

Three hours until the boat leaves.

Dante, we're done. Forever.

The day I died, my sister wore the wedding dress I had always dreamed of, and married my boyfriend.
My family felt no sorrow over my disappearance.
My brother suspected I deliberately avoided blessing my sister.
My silent father believed I was malicious, unwilling to see my sister surpass me.
My mother called me ungrateful and demanded I apologize to my sister.
They didn't care if I was alive.
They were only worried that my absence would sadden my sister by denying her my blessing.

In my past life, I died in a freezing, damp basement.
The person who destroyed me was Evelina, the daughter of my father’s mistress. She set a trap at a charity gala, dragged my reputation through the mud, and forced me into a hellish marriage—all so she could strip away everything that rightfully belonged to me.
When I opened my eyes again, I was twenty-two. The gala that sealed my fate was happening tonight.
Before the banquet officially began, I seamlessly swapped two champagne flutes, handing her meticulously woven trap right back to her. When the scandal detonated, sending shockwaves through the ballroom, my eyes landed on Killian—the Vance family's notoriously cold-blooded illegitimate son.
The trust fund my mother left me was still firmly under my control. I walked straight up to him and laid my chips on the table.
My enemies had retreated to the shadows, waiting to strike back. But I was going to use their own conspiracies as stepping stones, clawing back everything I owned, one piece at a time.

At the family dinner, a Wall Street rising star flaunted his power in front of me, boasting that he was the chief agent of the "Godfather of the Underworld."
My ex-wife's family fawned over me like dogs, pointing their fingers at me and taunting, "You spineless, gigolo trash, you're not even worthy to carry Mr. Victor's shoes!"
Victor, even more smug, turned on speakerphone, trying to use my privileges to curry favor with my wife.
I stood silently in the corner, coldly pressing a blood-red command: [Permanently Delete Account].
The next second, the system's cold pronouncement came through his phone: "Warning, you have overstepped your authority and have been banned across the entire network!"
The room fell silent instantly.
They had no idea that I was the true Godfather, the one who controlled a multi-billion dollar empire and ruled the Western underworld!

I grew up training in seclusion, intentionally sealing my royal aura to experience life as a regular werewolf. My family arranged a marriage for me a long time ago, and my fiancé is Derrick, the Alpha of a local pack. Today, I visit a high-end witch boutique to pick out an exclusive dress for my Mating Ball. I immediately spot a one-of-a-kind enchanted moonstone gown. Just as I reach out to take it.

A woman standing nearby shoots me a sideways glance and announces loudly to the people around her, "This dress looks pretty good. I'm taking it."

Before she even finishes her sentence, she steps forward and snatches the gown right out of my reach.

My face darkens, and I speak up to stop her. "First come, first served. I saw this dress first. Snatching it like that is way out of line."

She scoffs, looking me up and down with pure disgust. "This enchanted gown costs a fortune. Look at what you're wearing. Do you really think you're worthy of even touching it? I'm Selene, Alpha Derrick's mate. In this territory, Derrick is the law!"

How ironic. Derrick is the exact same fiancé my family arranged for me.

I was seventeen when I fell desperately in love with Orion Blake. He didn’t see the Holt heiress or the fortune. He saw me. Our love was forbidden, fierce, and all-consuming. In his arms, I believed forever was real. Until the night my father caught us and a gunshot that shattered my world. They broke me that night,my body and soul. But from the ashes of my pain, a vow was born: I would destroy the Holt family from the inside. Slowly. Painfully. Completely.
For years I played the perfect daughter. The cold, brilliant CEO. The obedient heiress. All while sabotaging everything my family held dear. Then my father forced me to marry Roman Kade, the ruthless CEO of KA Global, the man single-handedly dismantling my family’s empire. A man who looked at me with dark hunger and barely contained fury. A man whose touch sets my skin on fire even as he seems determined to break me. But Roman Kade has secrets of his own. Dangerous ones. The way he watches me… the familiar intensity in his eyes… it feels too personal. Too knowing. He thinks he’s the one in control. He thinks he can ruin me, but he has no idea I’ve been planning my revenge for years and he has no idea how deep my devotion runs… or how far I’m willing to go for Orion and for the child we lost. This forced marriage was supposed to be my prison but Instead, it’s becoming a battlefield where love, hate, and buried secrets collide. Because some loves refuse to die and some vows were never meant to be broken. When I had promised forever, i really meant forever. It was all for him. No one could have me, if i couldn't have Orion Blake.

"Lily is mine," Harrison Carter declared, his dark gaze locking onto Juliette's. "Marry me, and I'll protect her. Refuse… and be ready for the consequences."
Juliet Harper swore she will never return to the city that broke her. But when a career opportunity takes her back to New York, she finds herself face to face with the last person she expected, Harrison Carter, a young billionaire, the man who shattered her heart into pieces.
Old wounds bleed into the present as secrets she thought were buried begin to surface. Harrison isn't just after her forgiveness—he wants control, and he's willing to use the one person she loves most to get it.
As secrets unravel, Juliette must decide: Can she risk it again? Or will her past destroy everything she's built?

I once thought I’d married the perfect husband, Kael, pouring all my heart and soul into trying to have a baby—until the birth certificate and adoption agreement in the study safe shattered every beautiful lie.
He and my dearest friend, Celeste, had long ago secretly had an illegitimate child,
and even plotted to trick me into being his foster mother, keeping me in the dark for the rest of my life.
What was even crueler was that on the very day I uncovered the truth, the doctor gave me the news—I was pregnant.
Once I faced the harsh truth, I resolutely faked a shipwreck to flee, going into hiding with my unborn child and leaving my old life behind.
He searched the entire world to find me, casting aside all his pride to beg for my forgiveness with a humble heart—but he could never win me back, not ever.

There are too many ways of taking revenge on a woman. But he chose marriage. In the past three years, he acted like a ruthless husband, treating her coldly, and even more worse, humiliating her. Even when she was pregnant, he tried to force her to give it up, to retire from film field, to expel her from her country.

My sister took the blame for me and died in the Abyss Dungeon.

For five years, I knelt at her grave and wept. My husband Jack gently wiped away my tears and told me everything would be alright.

Until the day I ran into a woman at the mall.

The way she held her coffee cup. Her favorite phrase. The slight lift of her ring finger — every detail was identical to my dead sister.

I followed her to a villa on the outskirts of town.

The door opened.

The woman who greeted her was the rival who had fallen to her death from a cliff five years ago.

And the man who stepped out of the car and kissed that rival on the lips — was my husband.

That night I confronted Jack. He simply sighed:

"The truth? Is it really that important?"

“Who can't control themself now?” I smirked, certain I had gained the upper hand despite the arousal soaking my underwear.

His jaws flexed as he closed in on me, his hands on either sides of the island, his musky scent invading my senses. My gaze involuntarily went to his bare chest, trailing the muscled planes, the six packed abs, and finally settled on the visible bulge in his sweatpants.

He grabbed my hand and placed it on his erection, his eyes lidded with lust. I stifled a moan at the sheer size of him.

“I never said I could control myself around you, Princess.”
.
.
.
Stephanie expected to hate her stepbrother even before she moved in. He was everything she wasn't. Charming, easygoing, but with an ego the size of Mount Everest.

He infuriated her in ways no one had ever done, but he also managed to tempt her. She hated being vulnerable, but he managed to make her reveal her vulnerability.

When the step siblings were brought together by their shared love for motorcycles and the zeal to destroy an opponent, they were forced to put their differences aside for their goal.

It was just supposed to be for one weekend. Right?

She wasn't going to fall for him, not when he was forbidden in every way possible. He was her stepbrother, her nemesis, and she loathed him.

It didn't matter that he was the only one that made her heart race with excitement at the mere sight of him.

"You don't get to walk out on me, Andera."
"I can and I will. You have some nerve—you stalked me online, you mocked me, and now you dare to touch me? Let me make this clear—"
"Feisty, Andera."
"If you as much as say or act disrespectfully toward me again, it will not end well."


Vengeance is her's, not God's. Andrea Campbell's world is shattered when Thane, her ruthless CEO husband, divorces her. Left with nothing, she has no family, no money, no identity.
But as fate would have it, she is reunited with her billionaire birth father, Mr. Campbell.
Five years later, Andrea returns as a stunning, sassy businesswoman, fueled by a burning desire for revenge. She plans to pull Thane into a high-stakes business collaboration and then destroy him.
Thane, consumed by his ex-wife's transformation, will stop at nothing to reclaim her. Unaware of their hidden twin children and Andrea's secret game. He becomes increasingly obsessed.
As they dance around their explosive past, Andrea struggles to keep her emotions in check.
Thane's determination ignites a risky game of cat and mouse, where old feelings resurface and new flames ignite.
Will Thane's all-consuming love be enough to quench Andrea's fury, or will her thirst for revenge destroy them both? Can Andrea resist Thane's relentless chase, or will she succumb to the passion that once bound them?