8030 Book(s) Related to the boss i accidentally married the vampire boss the warrior

Warning!!! Rated. 18+
{She was my tool for revenge, but I ended up falling for her}
"I'M sorry, but I beg of you don't sell me out like the others please, remember I'm your family right?" she cried.
"How many times am I gonna tell you that you are not in any way related to me Gianna? I found you in the orphanage and took pity on you, the fact that I nursed you up till this moment does not make you my family. I only took good care of you because I know one day you gonna bring me so much money and that day is today so go get ready. You have already been bought my dear Gianna", she nulled with a wicked grin on her face.
Seventeen and still bubbling, already blessed with all womanly features endowed in the right places, Gianna was adopted by an Aunt Christa, when she clocked two.
Aunt Christa was a restaurant owner, more like a delivery slut restaurant, and in there, Gianna served her diligently and faithfully.
Then, the time came when she needed to fulfill that which had been on her mind for like fifteen years, and what was that? To sell her off, to make up money to cover up expenses spent,... and to make more money.
Guess who bought her?? Greg Starr, a 24 year old young entrepreneur, and a Mafia King under cover, very ruthless and heartless.
She was bought to be his tool for revenge, purchased to get back at Clemson, the brother she never knew she had, and his enemy from the past.
And then what happens his female folks?Cassandra Mayor and Beverly Kingstown? Are they all going to just fold their arms and watch this little fragile beauty take their man away?
The worst of it all, she got pregnant for him; got pregnant for a beast in human form.
Was he happy when he got to hear the news? Did he agree to keep the baby? What about her? Was she happy to keep the baby of a ruthless Mafia King?

I woke up on the operating table—minutes away from having my kidney harvested for the girl who ruined my life. Last time, I died alone, infected, while my family celebrated her “recovery.” Not this time.

I refused the surgery, exposed their lies, and walked out. Now, they call me crazy, ungrateful, a disgrace. But I see them for what they are: parasites who drained my talent, my money, and nearly my life.

I’m done begging for love that was never mine. Instead, I’m selling my music, acing exams, and building my own future—without them. Let them coddle their precious adopted princess. I have a second chance, and I’m not wasting it on people who’d bury me for their convenience.

This time, I choose me. Watch me burn brighter than their golden girl ever could.

Kimberly Smith thought winning a scholarship to Greywood Academy would be her way out. Straight A’s. A fresh start. A future that her mom could finally be proud of.
Instead, Greywood takes one look at her thrift shoes and homemade lunch—and decides she’s entertainment.
They call her Scumbag of the Week.
They film her, mock her, and turn every mistake into a headline.
And the worst part? The boy who started it is the one person she can’t avoid.
Xavier Grey is the heir everyone fears, the boyfriend every girl worships, and the bully who knows exactly how to break people with a smirk. Kimberly swears she’ll survive him, not fall for him.
Then the lines blur.
A “dare kiss” goes viral. Someone pushes her into a pool. Her scholarship is suddenly under review—with “evidence” that makes her look guilty. Her only friend turns against her. Even her mother starts to doubt her.
And Xavier—cold, controlled Xavier—starts showing up when it matters. Warning her away from traps. Paying to erase posts. Touching her tears like he hates that they exist.
Greywood is built to crush girls like Kimberly.
So why does its most dangerous boy look like he might burn it down for her?

I spent ten years turning a thug into a top boxer, but he and my wife kicked me out of the game, mocking me for "not understanding business and being outdated."

I didn't argue, and turned around to pick up a homeless man who had fought in underground boxing matches on the roadside.

A year later, the homeless man's apprentice knocked out the defending champion with one punch and won the gold belt; while that ingrate who betrayed me was beaten into a cripple in the underground boxing ring.

The geniuses you all think they are are nothing more than half-finished products under my tutelage!

On the night of the charity gallery opening, I caught Lucas and Lila tangled together in the storage closet.
He pulled the girl tight against his chest and sneered, “Stella, you’re eight whole years older than me. You’ve controlled my life for five years—when are you gonna realize you can never hold onto me?”
Lila giggled, snuggling deeper into his arms. “You’re past your prime, ma’am. Why cling to someone who was never yours to begin with?”
Snickers and mocking laughter rippled through the onlookers.
I gave a slow, hollow smile.
For five years, I single-handedly kept Scott Enterprises afloat, mopped up every mess he made, and buried every scandal spawned by his endless string of flings.
Still, he hopped from one girl to the next, weaponizing our age gap to mock and hurt me, over and over again.
Then he shoved me hard. I crumpled to the floor in a pool of my own blood, watching him bolt out with another woman in his arms, not a single glance thrown back my way.
I knew right then the baby was gone.
Everyone whispered how pathetically I’d bent over backward for love.
No one ever learned the truth: I endured everything only because his face mirrored my late fiancé, Elias.

I'm the forgotten eldest son of the Cross family.
My parents see me as a walking blood bag for my brother Colin, while my wife views me as a sinner destined to spend my life atoning for my mistakes.
When Audrey pressured me to donate a kidney, I agreed.
Not only did I agree, but I also liquidated all my assets and transferred them to my lab.
They thought I was foolish, that I was still begging for their love.
In reality, I was just tying up loose ends.
The night before the surgery, I coughed up a pool of blood.
Audrey laughed coldly over the phone: "Stop the act, Evan. You just want to dodge responsibility. You'll go to any lengths for attention."
The surgery was a "success."
Colin got the kidney he'd always dreamed of.
And I died in the recovery room.
My soul floated in the air as I watched Audrey push open the hospital door, wearing a smile that dripped with pity, ready to put on a show of "redemption."
"Evan, I know you've been wronged. Let's start over..."
The only response to her was the white sheet covering my lifeless body.

The day I walked in on my boyfriend screwing that blonde tramp, I dropped the homemade tiramisu right there on the floor—our two-year relationship smashed to bits, messier than the splattered cream.

I ducked into a bar, slamming back whiskey, when this guy in a sharp black suit sidles up, his voice smooth as silk laced with bourbon. I spat out, "Help me forget him," but ended up totally lost in the presidential suite. He backed me against the wall, tore open my blouse, his tongue circling my nipple before biting down hard, leaving me breathless. "You taste like candy, baby—tonight, I'm gonna eat you up."

But then my boyfriend FaceTimes, spots the guy behind me, and loses it, screaming, "Dad!"

I went ice-cold—my hookup was my boyfriend's stepdad? Even worse, this thirty-three-year-old powerhouse was Brooklyn's deadliest mob boss.

What began as a vengeful fling spiraled into a forbidden nightmare?

My husband bought a necklace for the woman who killed my mother.

When I saw my foster sister Rebecca Rebecca wearing that emerald necklace with Aaron at the party, I knew history would repeat itself. Seven years ago, my mother lost everything the same way—her husband, her dignity, and finally her life.

I wouldn't follow in her footsteps.

So after slapping Rebecca across the face, I told everyone I was divorcing him and walked out with my suitcase.

Rebecca thought she'd won again. Aaron thought I was just being hysterical.

Neither of them saw it coming—

This time, I'd make them pay.

When the bridal bouquet landed directly in my arms, the entire reception erupted.
All eyes shifted to Elias, the man I had loved for seven years.
"Propose! Put a ring on it!" the crowd chanted, pushing him toward me.
My heart raced. I thought my endless waiting was finally over.
Instead, Elias stepped up, smiled... and pulled the flowers right out of my hands.
He turned around and shoved them into the arms of his twenty-five-year-old assistant.
"Don't be greedy, Kalinda. Let Mia have the luck today," he chuckled, patting my hair like a pet. "We've got plenty of time. Next time, I promise."
I watched his assistant bury her face in the white peonies, shooting me a triumphant smirk.
I just smiled back.
There isn't going to be a "next time."
My wedding is coming. And he isn't the groom.

Three months ago, I was kidnapped. When Alexander rescued me, I woke up in a hospital bed with my clothes disheveled and bruises covering my body. What happened during those hours? I don't remember any of it.

A week ago, I found out I was pregnant. He held me as I shook and told me that it wasn't my fault. That he failed to protect me. Even if the baby wasn't his, he'd raise it. He'd still give me the perfect wedding.

But the guilt ate me alive until depression took hold.

Every night, sleep stays out of reach. Nightmares find me the moment I close my eyes. I've tried to end it. Three times now. Each time, someone found me just in time.

After the third failed attempt, I make tea and head toward his study to apologize. Voices drift through the door before I reach it.

"Are you out of your mind? Evelyn's your fiancée!" His friend sounds disbelieving. "You actually hired someone to kidnap her? Made her think she was assaulted? Just so Lily could take her place? Do you know how messed up that is? What that does to someone?"

Alexander's voice comes out calm. "Lily got sick because of me. Her dying wish is to marry me once before she goes. If I didn't push Evelyn out of the picture, her father would never let Lily take her place."

All those nights. All those nightmares. All those times I scrubbed my hands raw until they bled. It was all a lie. A setup.

For another woman.

I pull out my phone and call my father.

"Dad. I'll agree to the arrangement."

To please his mistress, Callum ordered me—pregnant—to dance barefoot in the black salt ice cellar.

When I stumbled back to the doorway to warm myself, the mistress covered her mouth and retched.

"I'm pregnant. I can't stand this death-stench of winter."

Only because I was a princess of the Winter Realm, born carrying frost in my veins.

Callum flew into a rage and had me locked inside a frost-crystal cage, sunk to the bottom of the ice well. No one was allowed to release me without his command.

"A princess of winter, afraid of the cold? What a joke!"

No matter how I struggled or begged, he couldn't have cared less. He and his mistress treated it as entertainment. And just like that, I froze to death at the bottom of that well.

What he didn't know was that although we winter-born are forged in bitter cold, when we carry a child, every drop of magic goes to protecting the baby. We have no defense left for ourselves. The very ice that shaped us becomes the thing that kills us.

Two days later, he was finally satisfied and ordered them to pull me up.

But I could never come back up again.

I stepped out of my OB-GYN appointment, only to be crushed by a speeding truck while my husband watched from the opposite curb, not even blinking.
I choked on my own blood before waking up on the exact same street corner.
I thought I had been reborn, but then I saw a glowing red number "4" burned into the skin of my forearm.
What the hell was happening?

I grew up alongside my next-door neighbor, ice hockey prodigy Lachlan, silently paving the way for his future. In my past life, he planned to quit his crucial scout game for his girlfriend Tamsin.
Fearing he would ruin his career, I tipped off his parents to stop him. After graduation, I joined his sports agency and spent three years cleaning up his messes, clinging to the hope that my devotion would eventually win him over.
Yet after Tamsin’s death, he blamed me entirely, shattered my fingers, and drowned me in a frozen lake. Reborn back in high school, I finally woke up. I will no longer stop him from chasing his doomed fate.

My husband used my cottage to cheat on me. Fine. I found out, I drove three hours, and I walked into my own house to find his mistress wearing my dead grandmother's sweater.
She told me to leave.
He showed up, kissed her in front of me, then grabbed my arm and shoved me into the door frame.
That's when I had the asthma attack. He's known about my asthma for five years.
My inhaler rolled across the porch floor. His mistress picked it up, held it out, and told me to sign a statement saying I'd caused all of this. Then she'd give it back.
He looked at me on the ground and said: She's performing.
I'm sitting on the floor of my own grandmother's house, gasping, and my husband is telling the neighbors I'm acting.
Nobody thought to ask whose family manages every property on this coastline.

My fiancé accused me of not caring about family.
To appease him, I planned a family vacation.
But the night before we left, he informed me that he'd given my first-class seat to his childhood sweetheart.
And me? He stuck me in coach on a flight flagged for possible terror threats.
Everyone in his family thought I should just go along with it.
That was the moment I woke up.
I tore up the itinerary and booked myself a trip to Hawaii instead.
Then I turned off my phone and let them sweat over the hotel bill.
It wasn't until their reservation got canceled that they finally started to panic.

“One more time, my little human.” He purrs into my ear, sucking on the crook of my neck, causing pleasure to shoot through my entire body.

His finger finds my clit, playing with the slick button.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Rain.” Propped up on a pillow and my hips held hostage in his grip, all I can do is hold on for the sweet torture he’s inflicting on me.

I swish my head from side to side as my orgasm approaches. He growls into my neck, I can feel his fangs elongate. He clings to me like he never wants to let me go, plunging his teeth into my skin.

What the fuck is he doing!


For all the advances humans have made they still suck at love and Morgan Cane isn’t any different. That doesn’t stop her for looking for companionship, that she finds in the most unexpected of places.

Rain Redwood is a werewolf slave trapped at the bottom of society, has never quite known just exactly who he is. He lives his life for his sister and now, for this little human that has wormed her way into his heart.

Neither of them understands the impact their coming together has not only on themselves, but on the world as they know it. With secrets waiting to be uncovered, bonds bound to be tested and peace on the line they must navigate treacherous waters to stay together, and who knows… maybe love is a choice, not a feeling.

Dear readers, this book has come to an end. Thank you for sticking with me and reading all this time. I highly recommend another amazing novel of the same genre:
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On my wedding day, I found another woman's sexy lace bra in my husband's car, with semen still on it...

One month before my wedding, I was trying on the wedding dress I'd designed myself when a message from a friend popped up: [Diana, get over here! Your fiancé just lost at Truth or Dare and has to kiss your rival.]

On our third anniversary, I gave my husband my pregnancy test results as a gift. What I got back was a photo—a man's hand on a woman's chest. The wedding ring on his finger told me everything I needed to know. He was my husband. And he was cheating.

Veronica Demoore was the girl everyone despised.
Mocked for her weight, humiliated for her grades, and crushed beneath a brutal home life, she lived every day as the target of ridicule—until the day she couldn’t bear it anymore.
The world thought Veronica died that night.
But when she opens her eyes again… someone else is looking through them.
Savanna.
A woman once raised in the shadows of a powerful organization. A genius trained to survive, manipulate, and dominate. In her previous life, she had wealth, intelligence, and strength. In this one, she has none of those things—only Veronica’s broken body and shattered reputation.
But weakness is temporary.
Bullies who once laughed at Veronica soon discover the girl they tormented is no longer the same.
Her mind is sharper. Her gaze is colder. And the quiet girl they used to push around now carries a dangerous confidence.
As Savanna begins transforming Veronica’s life piece by piece—losing weight, exposing enemies, and rising to the top of the school—the truth behind her rebirth slowly unfolds.
Because Savanna didn’t die by accident. And the people who killed her are still out there. This time, she won’t be their victim. This time— she’s coming for everything.

His ex‑mate had come back.
The one he’d loved before our pack arranged this bond.
I was just the contract wife.
I knew my place. So I laid the divorce papers on his desk, calm and final.
“Sign it. You don’t need me anymore.”
He stared at me like I’d grown a second head.
Then his jaw tightened, that wolf dominance flaring in his eyes—raw, territorial, furious.
He stepped close, caging me against the wall, his voice a low, dangerous growl.
“Need you? I don’t need you. I own you.
You think you get to choose when this bond ends?
You don’t run. You don’t leave.
You don’t get to divorce me. Not now. Not ever.
You’re mine!"

The plan was simple: Break the nephew by seducing the uncle.
Wesley Vance didn't just break my heart; he tried to sell my dignity. So, I went after the only man he feared. The man who owned the city, the empire, and Wesley’s future.
Lance Lawson. He’s cold. He’s untouchable. He’s my ex-boyfriend’s uncle. I thought I was the one setting the trap. I wore his shirts, haunted his penthouse, and chipped away at his legendary control until the ice finally cracked.
But I made one fatal mistake. I thought Lance was a man I could use and discard. I didn't realize that once you wake a predator, he never goes back to sleep.
Now, Wesley is gone, the Vance family is in ruins, and I’m trapped in a gilded cage of my own making. Because Lance doesn't want my loyalty. He wants my soul.
I wanted revenge. I got an obsession.

"I, Alpha Xander Finch of the Red Moon Pack,” he said. Wait, is he going to accept my rejection now? “Reject your rejection, Alpha Chastity Reid of the Silver Moon Pack,” he added, and my eyes widened when I felt something extraordinary. Maybe he felt it too because he was surprised as well. Then he carried me before he pinned me at the back of the now already closed door and kissed me and, oh goddess, I felt like I missed him for a thousand years already, so I kissed him back.


Chassy, an omega who carries the weight of her heritage, is mistreated by her mother and the Red Moon Pack for her entire existence. Her real potential, which was acquired from a father who came from a mysterious lycan clan, is hidden from her and her tormentors. She found out that Xander, her Alpha, was her mate. For some reason, he hurt her. As a result
Chassy leaves and rejects him.

But destiny has more in store for her. With the advent of her lycan beast, she unexpectedly rises to the position of alpha in her adopted pack. Then she met her father whom she never knew and found out more about herself.

The persistent vampires, push packs to band together under an alliance. Chassy's previous and present lives intersect when Xander stops by her new pack for a joint training session against this backdrop of peril and unity. Will Xander and Chassy be able to cross the gap between them? Can they stand together in the face of the impending vampire threat?

What will Chassy do when she knows that she's unable to give Xander an heir and a boy with his mother comes to the pack claiming Xander to be the father?

Evelyn Vale plans weddings, memorials, and private family ceremonies for people who care too much about how grief looks on camera. She knows lighting, timing, guest flow, and the hidden machinery behind a perfect public moment.

Then one night, while sitting beside the husband who kisses her goodnight, she sees a livestream event scheduled for tomorrow: her own memorial service.

The cover uses her mourning portrait. Grant, her husband, is posed as the devastated widower. Serena, her half sister, stands beside him like a woman already rehearsing the role of replacement wife.

At first Evelyn wants it to be a mistake. Then the invoices appear. The funeral campaign is paid for. The backend record existed. Someone with internal clearance created it, deleted it, and expected Evelyn to die before the broadcast.

Julian Cross, a former livestream safety investigator disgraced by an old death case, is the first person who treats Evelyn's fear as evidence. Together they follow the countdown through funeral contracts, planted comments, medical manipulation, board pressure, platform corruption, and a hidden operator using public grief as a business model.

But Evelyn is not waiting to be rescued. She knows how to build an event. She knows where witnesses should stand, when a microphone should stay open, and how a lie collapses when the room sees the right proof at the right time.

Grant scheduled the funeral.

Evelyn hosts it better.

Zara Torres has three rules at Harlow University.
No drama. No distractions. And absolutely no hockey players.

She breaks all three before October ends when a journalism assignment lands her in Declan Mercer's orbit starting center, infuriatingly perceptive, and somehow always exactly where she isn't expecting him.

Zara tells herself it's professional. She's documenting the ice conflict between two programs sharing one rink. She's not falling for the guy who shows up at six AM with terrible coffee and the unsettling habit of telling her the truth.

She's definitely not thinking about the jump.

The quad Lutz she hasn't fully landed in two years. The fall that broke her wrist and quietly broke something else. The confidence she rebuilt around a gap she keeps pretending isn't there.

But when a journalism assignment becomes something larger, a testimony, an investigation, a story that reaches backward through thirty-three years and fifteen countries. Zara discovers that the thing she thought was a skating problem was never really about skating.

It was about learning who built the walls around the thing that was hers.

And deciding to tear them down anyway.

This story is a young adult sport romance about the cost of excellence, the courage of going first, and what it means to fight for the thing that was yours before anyone decided it was worth something.

The ice was hers first.

She just had to remember that.

"I WANT DIVORCE!" I shouted, my voice echoing off the walls.
The room fell silent. Alexander stopped in his tracks; his back still turned to me. I could sense his tension, his surprise. But I didn't care. I meant it. I wanted out of this loveless, abusive marriage. I wanted to be free.
Slowly, Alexander turned around, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me. But I didn't flinch. I held his gaze, my eyes blazing with determination. I was done. I was finally done with this toxic marriage, done with being treated like a doormat. I wanted my freedom, and I was ready to fight for it.
Alexander's steps halted, his cold face turning towards me with a mixture of shock and disdain. "What did you say?" he asked, his voice dripping with ice.
I stood my ground, meeting his gaze with matching coldness. No fear, no softness, just a resolute determination. "I want divorce, Mr. Alexander Valtor," I repeated, my voice firm and clear.
Alexander's expression twisted in contempt. "Don't you think it should be me who asks for divorce? I am the one who was forced to marry a girl like you."

"Please, Lydia, give me a second chance. I swear, let me love you again." "Too late, Nathaniel, I have someone else now."
In a twisted tale of deceit and sacrifice, Lydia Milan, who hid her identity and family, endures a loveless marriage to handsome, wealthy Nathaniel King, who views her only as a blood source for his ailing ex.
Struggling against mistreatment, Lydia Milan finally demands a divorce and leaves the marriage, and that was when Nathaniel King discovered that she was the only daughter of the richest man in the country, whom he had been trying to have an audience with since.
A suspenseful journey unfolds, revealing the complexities of love, betrayal, and redemption in this gripping novel where hidden identities and vengeful schemes entwine in a web of secrets.

The day he first saw her, one thought consumed him, "I want to fuck her."

Their first meeting, which seemed like an unexpected encounter, turned her life upside down.

Rainee humiliated him in front of everyone just because Alex bullied her beloved brother.

Alex Fraser swore to own her all for himself, to make her beg on her knees until he was satisfied.

But their obsession led them to get deceived by their own desire.

'Why now, why him? I shouldn't have looked. I shouldn't have stayed. But my ears betrayed me. Adrain's lips on her - it felt like a knife twisting inside me. Why does it matter so much? He's my best friend's brother. He is trouble. And yet, my heart races whenever he is near. I hate myself for wanting what I can't have."

.....................................

Inez is a romance loving nerd navigating her love life. After catching her boyfriend, Ethan, cheating, she stays with her best friend, Irene, where she meets the playboy, Irene's brother, Adrain.

Despite their instant attraction, Adrain's playboy reputation and Inez's insecurities keep them apart. As Inez faces bullying, family drama, and danger, Adrain becomes her protector and secret crush. Will they overcome their past and Adrain's possessive nature to find love?

He never spoke. I never knew when to shut up. Everyone had a theory about the Mute Mafia King.
Some said he lost his voice. Some said he’d taken a vow of silence. Others were convinced he simply hated people.
The women in the mafia had a different theory altogether. That he was gay. It certainly explained why the most powerful, most feared, and ridiculously handsome man in Italy had never looked twice at a woman. Including me.
Which was perfect. Considering I was about to marry his uncle.
I hated my fiancé. He hated me. His nephew barely acknowledged my existence. So why couldn’t I stop looking at him? Why did every stolen glance feel like a secret? Why did his silence say more than everyone else’s words?
They warned me the Mute Mafia King was a monster. What nobody warned me about was that the monster would turn out to be my fiancé’s nephew.
Or that I’d end up spending more time with him than my actual fiancé. Or that “keeping me safe” would mean sharing a hallway, a table, and eventually a lot more than either of us planned for. Or that somewhere between his silence and my inability to shut up, I’d start hearing words out of him that nobody else ever got.
I came here to survive a wedding I never wanted. I did not come here to fall for the one man who could ruin everything if anyone ever found out.

For two years, Serena believed she was the luckiest woman alive. Her husband Leo worshipped her—he was tender, protective, and swore he'd never let anyone hurt her. He even refused to touch her, claiming she was too precious.

Then, on their wedding anniversary, she walked into his private club and heard him whisper to another woman: "Take care of our baby."

The woman was his brother's wife.

Everything—the gentleness, the restraint, the so-called love—had been an elaborate performance. And when Serena demanded a divorce, Leo didn't beg. He didn't apologize. He smiled and said: "Your grandmother wouldn't want that."

Now Serena must fight her way out of a marriage designed to cage her, a family that wants her silent, and a past that still has teeth. But the man who appears from the shadows to help her… is the same one who abandoned her years ago.

And he has secrets of his own.

Prisca thought finding her mate was the beginning of her happily ever after. She was wrong.

After discovering that she is a Hidden hybrid witch, Prisca finally believes she has nothing left to fear—especially after Alpha Jake publicly chooses her as his mate and confesses his love.

But Jake is hiding a truth that changes everything.

He is not merely an Alpha. He is a royal heir, bound by ancient traditions that demand he marry a werewolf princess and claim his place on the throne. A witch as his mate is unacceptable to the royal bloodline, leaving Jake with an impossible choice: the woman he loves or the crown he was born to inherit.

When Jake chooses the crown, Prisca leaves the Silverstone Pack determined to erase him—and the supernatural world—from her life.

Then she discovers she is pregnant.

Her child is Jake’s heir.

Keeping the pregnancy secret from a powerful Alpha hybrid who is destined to become king may be impossible. But Prisca refuses to let Jake take her child—or break her heart twice.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t know that walking away from the future king may have consequences far greater than heartbreak.

Three days after I died, the morgue called my husband Sebastian to collect my ashes.
He was kissing another woman when he hit speaker, his voice cold and dismissive: "She's dead? Cremate her. Don't call me again."
And just like that, my body was wheeled into the cremation chamber.
When he finally showed up to collect my remains, he smashed the urn on the floor and ground every fragment of my ashes into the tile with his shoe.
"Playing dead? What a pathetic stunt," he sneered. "Tell her the anniversary of my mother's death is coming up. She'd better show up at the cemetery on her knees, or even if she really is dead, I'll scatter her ashes in the sewer myself."
But he didn't know—I truly was dead.
My soul was bound to him, forced to drift at his side as he planned a lavish wedding with his adopted sister Claire—his mother's true killer.
By the time he discovered the truth and exposed Claire at the altar, I had already vanished.
He lost his mind, racing to the ocean to search for my ashes.
Never knowing that the remains he'd crushed like garbage under his shoe—the "fake ashes" he'd dismissed as part of my act—
Were all that was left of me.

For three years, I deliberately suppressed my grades to rank under my boyfriend William, paving his way to our promised Cambridge exchange. I overheard him and my best friend Maddie confess they framed me for plagiarism in my past life, driving me to jump off the 38th floor, yet they still carried on an affair. They lied and ignored my pain afterward. Heartbroken, I secretly applied to Cambridge alone. The twist? My years of hiding my brilliance were never selfless sacrifice. I collected all their dirty secrets. I’m going to Cambridge not to flee, but to ruin every dream they cling to.

My adopted sister, Adriana, hit and injured Hadley Brooks—the prized mistress of Hartwell’s mafia boss, Dario Salvatore—and fled the scene.
Don Salvatore gave us exactly three days. And so, my husband and my parents all turned their eyes to me: Go take the fall for her. You always know how to fix things.
I agreed.
What they didn't know was that on that very same day, my doctor had given me my own deadline: I had, at most, three days left to live.

"Priest, I'm requesting to transfer my registry to the Forbidden Lands. And I need the materials to forge a Moonshadow Puppet. In three days, it will stand in my place at the mating altar."

I spoke into the communication rune in my palm.

From the other end, the Moon Priest's voice spiked with warning. "Aria, do you have any idea what you're saying? The Forbidden Lands is an abyss of no return! It's ruled by the Lycans. You don't even have a wolf spirit—walking in there is a death sentence!"

"My decision is final."

After a long beat, his heavy, suppressed sigh echoed through. "Using a puppet substitute is an act of absolute blasphemy against the Moon Goddess... You've waited for Kaelen for so many years. Why walk away now?"

"Because a puppet will never betray a sacred vow."

The mafia boss chose me as his decoy—a body double for the woman he loves.

Eight years. Three bullets, one car crash, one explosion. The doctor said ten more minutes and I would've died on that operating table when they took my kidney. I gave him a son. He let me play "the boss's wife" in public.

Until he cleared every obstacle for her and decided to marry her.

Her wedding photos replaced mine in the master bedroom. He has her initials tattooed on his arm. When I questioned him, he had his men slap me at a charity gala, forced me to admit "I'm just a stand-in." When I touched her, he took away my custody, declared she was "the true lady of this house."

The punishments got worse. When he threatened to cancel my mother's insurance, I finally learned to shut up.

He pulls me close, whispers in my ear: "She gave up everything for me. Not like you—you were born to take bullets for me."

"Deal with it. She's not replacing you. This is her house now."

Even my son took her side.

"Stop being dramatic! Natalie actually loves us! You're nothing!"

But their pure, innocent Natalie? She unplugged my mother's ventilator while I was locked in the basement. Let his enemies slip poison into my drink during the last job.

When Grayson found me, all he said was: "She's pregnant and emotional. Go rearrange the flowers at the wedding venue."

I wipe the black blood from my lips. Look at him quietly.

"I'm dying."

For the tenth time, James Smith left me behind because of a call from his female student.
But it was as if I had become a different person—I no longer doubted that there was something ambiguous between James and his student.
Even on our wedding anniversary, when he abandoned me in the remote mountains for Sophia's sake, I bore no resentment.
Eventually, James began to sense something.
"Emily, you seem different," he said.
I shook my head with a smile.
Because I had simply made a different choice from the one in my past life.

I gave Arthur a thousand years. A thousand years to secure his throne as God-King.

And on the day of our engagement ceremony, he announced he was marrying someone else.

In my past life, I bled myself dry for him.

He told me Lilith needed Seraphim blood to live. I believed him. He bound me to the Divine Punishment Pillar and carved open my chest, one cut at a time.

He massacred my entire clan, calling it "treason."

I only learned the truth as I was dying. That pitiful "saint" was a demon from the Abyss all along.

Now that I'm reborn, watching him sit on that throne makes my skin crawl.

I destroy our engagement in front of everyone and take the entire Seraphim clan with me.

This time, I'm only here to watch him destroy himself.

They called me a hellcat. A she-wolf tyrant. The Luna who made her Alpha husband obey.
I held him together when his father died. Built his dying pack into a powerhouse while he flirted with she-wolves.
Then he brought home his "fated mate."
Everyone waited for me to explode.
Instead, I smiled. "I'll help you prepare the ceremony."
That's when my wolf—dormant for years—began to wake.

Camila and Caroline are identical twin daughters of Jack, the respected warrior commander of the Moonlight Pack. Camila, kind and dutiful, is the one betrothed to Alpha Michael, chosen to be his Luna.

Caroline, bold and reckless, is often jealous of her twin’s honor.

On the night of the marking ceremony, Michael, overwhelmed with lust and intoxicated, mistakenly sleeps with Caroline, marking her instead of Camila.

The entire pack believes Caroline is his true mate. Camila is humiliated before the pack — her engagement broken, her place usurped by her twin.

Feeling betrayed and discarded, Camila flees into the forbidden forest, where she collapses from exhaustion and despair.

I am a hero. The saint's husband.
A country boy chosen by the temple.
I fight, I fight, I fight.
All for the saint, for the temple.
But it wasn't until I was drained of blood and dying on the altar that I finally heard clearly what the saint and her childhood sweetheart were saying:
"If you become a hero and marry the saint, you'll have to surrender your soul to the temple. I don't want you to lose your soul."
"Then let's just find some country boy to be the hero. It won't matter if he dies."
Oh, so that's how it is.
You should have said so earlier.
I can defeat the Demon Lord just fine without the saint.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the wedding ceremony.
This time, someone else should be on the altar.

Silver poisoning struck, and my mother's life hung by a thread.
I knelt and begged my partner Selene to use the 100,000 gold coins from our war spoils to purchase Moonlight Holy Water, but she coldly refused with a sneer: "An ordinary silver poison patient isn't worth wasting resources on." She then turned and spent 80,000 coins on a necklace for her male lover.
My mother died in my arms as I ground my teeth and swallowed my tears of blood.
But when the patrol came to collect the body, she finally discovered—the one sent to be buried deep in the mass grave wasn't my mother at all, but her own biological mother.
She had personally buried her own mom!

The chieftainess returned from the poisonous fog with a swollen belly.
She announced that she carried the child of a god—a child who would bring hope to the entire base.
Only I knew that what she bore was no divine offspring, but a demon that would devour every soul in the base.
Because in my previous life, I was the one it had gnawed to death, alive...

Fate chose her.
Power made him refuse.
Ruby was never the Luna Troy wanted.
The girl with silver eyes and no wolf the pack whispered about behind her back. The girl he rejected publicly on the day that was supposed to be their wedding and mating ceremony, choosing pride and power over the bond that tied them together.
Humiliated before the entire pack, Ruby walked away from the man destined to love her.
And when Troy realized too late that rejecting her had been the biggest mistake of his life, Ruby refused to come back.
So on the day Ruby was supposed to marry another and finally start over, he stole her from her own wedding and forced her back into his world—back into a marriage she never wanted.
Now trapped beside the man who broke her heart, Ruby is no longer the weak girl Troy remembers. The years apart changed her. Hardened her. And the power inside her has grown into something the entire werewolf world fears.
A power strong enough to stop wars.
Strong enough to make kings kneel.
Suddenly, everyone wants a piece of her.
The council sees her as a weapon. Rival Alphas see her as a prize. Enemies lurking in the shadows want her power for themselves. And Troy, the man who once shattered her, will burn down the world before he lets anyone take her again.
But forced proximity only reopens old wounds.
Because beneath Ruby’s anger still lingers the bond neither of them escaped. Beneath Troy’s cruelty hides obsession, regret, and a dangerous love that has only grown more possessive with time.
Now caught between revenge and desire, freedom and fate, Ruby must decide if Troy deserves a second chance…
—or if the Alpha who ruined her should finally lose everything.

The day my mother succumbed to complications during childbirth, her younger sister, Vanessa, wed my father.

Fifteen years later, I beheld my husband accompanying Vanessa as she tried on seductive lingerie.

In that moment, I understood—what she truly coveted was never my father, but rather all that my mother and I shared.

My mother perished during childbirth, a casualty of an illicit affair.

I vowed not to repeat that tragic cycle.

Then I returned home, removed my wedding ring, and left behind the divorce papers.

In a sleek design world split between polished appearances and buried cruelty, Mara Ellison has spent years trapped behind a voice no one wanted to hear. While her family rewrites her illness and her fiancé speaks over her in the name of love, stolen records, public humiliation, and old betrayals force her to reclaim her life. Quiet but cutting, this is a story of emotional abuse, identity theft, and hard-won selfhood—framed by rain-soaked streets, hospital corridors, cold glass conference rooms, and a woman finally stepping into the light with her own voice.

The day college decisions came out, my parents bought my twin sister a Porsche.
It was my eighteenth birthday too. Nobody brought it up. I stood in the doorway in my diner uniform while the whole room sang her name.
That night the four of them went out to dinner to celebrate her. The car only sat four, so my father handed me a hundred dollars and told me to order myself something at home.
Four days later, six thousand four hundred dollars vanished from my account. Two years of washing dishes, gone to her sorority dues. My mother's name was on the account, so it wasn't even illegal.
I didn't scream and I didn't beg. I went upstairs and clicked Accept on the full ride to MIT that had been sitting in my inbox for three days.
Nobody in that house ever wanted me. So I booked a one-way ticket, cut myself out of the family photo, and left my key on the shoe rack.
I wasn't coming back. Not for graduation. Not for any of them.

When I was rushed to the ER with food poisoning, I heard the doctor shout, "We need to pump her stomach, now!"
But my mother, Catherine, calmly stopped the doctor's hand.
"No hurry," she said coldly. "Give her a sedative first."
My brother Austin panicked. "Mom! If you don't detox her, she could die!"
But my mother's voice was ruthless, low and sharp:
"If she dies, she dies. As long as her uterus is still warm, that's all that matters."
"Did you forget our plan? Sarah's transplant surgery is scheduled for tomorrow. If Elena wakes up now, what if she runs away?"
"Our priority is keeping her uterus safe for Sarah—not saving her life."
In that moment, the burn in my stomach was nothing compared to the chill in my heart.
I forced my eyes open and saw my brother—the one who'd always protected me—hesitate for a moment, then slowly let go of my hand.
"...Okay. You're right, Mom. Saving Sarah comes first."
The moment I closed my eyes, I made a decision: If I survived, this life would never belong to this family again.

For three years, she nursed her paralyzed husband, risked her own life testing experimental drugs, and nearly destroyed her health to pull him back from the brink of death.
But on the very day he fully recovered, he held his first love in his arms and declared, “I will take care of her and our child for the rest of my life.”
Heartbroken, she asked for a divorce. In return, he coldly froze all her bank accounts and forced her out of the house with nothing, sneering, “You are nothing without me.”
It was not until she hid her pregnancy test and walked away for good that he finally panicked.