8705 Book(s) Related to desolate island i am the only man

Right after the London Fashion Week, my husband unprecedentedly gave me a vacation, arranging a ten-day trip to New York.
I thought he finally learned to be considerate, until I overheard his conversation with our son.
"Dad, if you are marrying Aunt Barbara, what about Mom?" our son asked innocently.
"It's merely a ceremonial engagement," my husband chuckled. "Be a good boy, Oliver. Keep this a secret from Mom, and I'll buy you that limited-edition model airplane."
My mind went blank. I stood frozen for a long while before stepping out onto the terrace to catch the chilling wind.
If he wants to rewrite his past with his first love.
Then I will reclaim the design dream I threw away for him.
Once I leave for New York, I am never coming back.

Presley Duval had a nickname for me all through high school. Two-Twenty.
Because at sixteen I weighed 220 pounds.
Thirteen years later she rented out a private beach in Cabo for our class reunion. One rule. Every woman had to show up in a bikini.
She made a point of sending me one.
By the time I got there her phone was already up on a tripod, live. 370,000 people watching.
"She's actually gonna show?" someone asked.
"Why wouldn't she?" Presley smiled into the camera. "I had the hotel set aside an extra-large changing tent just for her. Wouldn't want her scaring the other guests when she takes her clothes off."
Everyone around her cracked up.
"I got her a gift, too."
She lifted a pink bag off her chair and pulled out a neon pink bikini. It took two people, one on each end, just to hold it stretched out.
"3XL. I called the company. That's the biggest they make. If it still snaps, that's not on me."
A row of phones went up.
"Don't laugh." She hung the bikini over the back of the chair. "Two-Twenty's had it rough. If I hadn't stayed on her about her weight back then, who knows if she'd even be able to walk through that door today."
"Oh, and I invited someone from Meridian." She lifted her chin. "So certain people can see what a real body looks like. Instead of copying models online and embarrassing themselves."
What she didn't know was that the big shot she kept name-dropping worked for me.
I walked down the boardwalk and stopped right in front of her.
"Where's the tent?"

In my past life, I loved the wrong man, chose the wrong path, and died trapped in an underground prison.

Reborn and given a second chance, facing the choice between the Blackwood brothers, everyone expected me to fall into Kellan's arms again—that once "perfect lover," that demon who tortured me to death.

But this time, I chose his older brother, Kai.

I chose the eldest son rumored to be cold and ruthless, the dangerous man who handled "gray business" overseas, the only person who bled for me in my previous life.

When I took Kai's hand in front of everyone, Kellan lost his mind, and so did my twin sister Aria.

"You love me!" Kellan screamed hysterically. "How could you choose that cold-blooded bastard?"

I smiled calmly: "Because this time, I'm choosing someone who truly loves me."

The pain of my past life won't repeat itself. The revenge of this life has only just begun.

Olivia Wilson's life like a fairy tale turned upside down in just one single night. A night that took her everything and gave her only a tag in return and the tag was "The Traitor's Daughter". A tag that she was determined to remove.

Olivia Wilson was living a perfect life till the age of 12. Her life was fulfilled with happiness and the people who used to increase her happiness more were The Alpha's Sons who are non-identical triplets. They promised to protect her and prayed to the Moon Goddess to make them her mates. Everything in her life seemed to go perfect until one day, her father Oliver Wilson was falsely accused by the Gamma, of killing the Luna and paralyzing the Alpha. Her life took an opposite turn, everyone who used to love her started hating her. The Triplets who promised to protect her turned into the ones she needs to be protected from. She started facing thousands of brutal torture and the Gamma who was involved in those dirty games made her life a living hell.

All those hurtful words and torture couldn't tame her, she was determined to prove her father's innocent but one thing that broke her completely was when her acceptance of the prayer she made in childhood turned into her worst nightmare. And what made it worse was they had other plans than rejecting her.

Note: This book is a collection of "The Traitor's Daughter" and "Nothing More than a Bully".

In my past life, when the apocalypse broke out, I braved the pressure and opened the fortress gates to take in my mother-in-law and brother-in-law, who had nowhere else to go.
They shoved my wife and me straight into a horde of zombies.
My wife and I were reborn seven days before the apocalypse. I turned my head and saw the same fear and coldness surging in her eyes as mine:
"This time, don't open the door."
"Never." I smiled coldly.
Not only would I keep the door shut—I would watch with my own eyes as those bloodsucking ingrates, who had drained me dry in my past life, were slowly devoured by hunger and despair right outside the gate.

I was reborn, back to the moment before I was dragged to death by motorcycles in the wasteland.

In my previous life, I listened to the moral blackmail of the saintly female lead Daisy and used my abilities to desperately save a motorcycle gang surrounded by zombies.

As a result, I was severely injured from ability overexertion, and these ungrateful wolves used me as a tool to establish dominance, dragging me to death with motorcycles across the wasteland.

Before I died, Daisy was still there crying: "We tried our best, this isn't our fault."

Now that I have a second chance, she stands before me again shouting:

"Cole! What are you standing there for? Go save them! Those people are going to die! You have abilities, you must save them!"

Looking at her hypocritical saintly face, rage burned in my chest.

Why should my abilities save ungrateful wolves? Why should my life be a stepping stone for others?

The kindness of fools is worthless!

So I threw her out to feed the zombies!

On the execution platform, my noble and beautiful wife used her dagger to carve open my chest.
My nominal adopted son pressed a red-hot iron into my skin, branding me with the "F"-class mark of the lowest outcast, draining my transcendent bloodline dry.
"The Storm Kingdom has no use for a cripple with zero beast-spirit affinity. You belong rotting in the abyss!"
They cut the chains and kicked me into the Black Abyss—a place from which no one returns—then turned to carve up my throne.
They thought I was as good as dead.
They had no idea that the deepest darkness of that abyss harbored the most terrifying ancient demon in existence.
Two weeks later, as they raised their glasses to toast the new king's coronation, I kicked down the castle gates, wielding the ember-fire of annihilation and a tide of ten thousand beasts.
Looking down at the woman who once stood so high above me, now groveling in the mud and begging for mercy, I tossed the bloodstained broken blade onto the hem of her dress:
"Remember this forever—it was you who took a nobody you crushed beneath your feet and turned him into a king you'll kneel before and never win back. Now, hand over your lives."

Waking up with boobs, beauty, and deadly lightning powers wasn’t on Abby’s bingo card—but then again, neither was dying of a terminal illness and reincarnating as a bullied noblewoman in a magical kingdom.
Now Lady Abby MacMayer has one goal: live loud, live free, and never be a victim again. With a sword in one hand and sarcasm in the other, she shocks the realm—literally—and catches the eye of the kingdom’s most powerful and brooding mage, Duke Alaric.
He’s duty. She’s chaos.
He trains her to control her power. She ruins his peace of mind.
The sparks? Not just magical.
But when a war brews, a dungeon rift opens, and a prophecy threatens the man she loves, Abby vanishes in battle… only to return years later with no memory and no magic.
Everyone believes she’s lost.
Only the queen knows she remembers everything—and is hiding the truth to protect Alaric from a fate worse than heartbreak.
Lightning may strike twice... but love?
Love will burn through time, lies, and destiny itself.

Adeline believed one thing for her entire life. Rafael, the bodyguard who was always at her side, was the safest place she had.
But she was wrong.
On the night her trust shattered, Rafael handed her over to a reality far crueler than betrayal. The man she loved turned into the cold figure who imprisoned her, not out of hatred, but because of a debt from the past.
Adeline’s father had taken something profoundly precious from Rafael. Something that could not be repaid with money, power, or an apology. And because her father refused to return it so easily, Adeline was forced to pay the price with her freedom.
Becoming the captive of the man who once swore to protect her, Adeline is trapped between pain, a love that has not yet died, and dark secrets that slowly come to light. Every glance from Rafael carries resentment. Every touch is a punishment, yet also a reminder of feelings that have not fully faded.
Amid betrayal and painful truths, one question continues to haunt Adeline.
Is she merely a tool for revenge, or the only thing still capable of saving Rafael from destruction?
Because in this game, love is no longer a shield, it is the deadliest weapon of all.

I was married to Vera for three years.

In those three years, every time we fought, I was the one who backed down first. She got used to being indulged, and she got used to using the silent treatment to make me fold.

Then a blizzard grounded my flight. I didn’t make it back for her birthday. She filed for divorce out of spite and left the country.

Three years ended without dignity.

A year after the divorce, Vera returned with a new jewelry brand and a high-profile comeback. Everyone assumed I was still waiting for her—she assumed it too.

At dinners, she hinted at reconciliation, using our old story to build hype for her brand. The circle started whispering that I’d end up back by her side.

I corrected it, again and again. She ignored every word.

What she didn’t know was that I already had someone new—and we were preparing to get engaged.

When she saw the engagement planning booklet, she convinced herself it was my signal to take her back.

I explained. She insisted.

Until the day of the engagement, when she stormed into the venue…

"Do you think you can walk into my bed, throw your body, and virginity to me as a distraction—steal from me, and get away with it?"
"Pl-please let me go, sir. I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know anything about any chip. I'm begging you," Olivia cried painfully.
Nero's hand left her hair and came to wrap around her slender, fair neck. 
He remembered peppering lots of kisses on this swanlike neck but would not hesitate to snap it if she continued in her attempt to fool him.
"Think very carefully about the next answer you're going to give me, because I would snap your fragile neck like a fucking twig if it's not satisfactory to me."


Olivia crossed paths with the ruthless mafia boss, Nero, on the day she planned to elope with her boyfriend, after her mother forced her to join the convent. She had no idea that she had left with more than his jacket. 
She escaped with a chip that contained the secrets of his business empire and his heir in her womb. Olivia is kidnapped and taken to Italy and into a world she never imagined... filled with danger, betrayal, lies, and death. 
Truths become lies and lies become the only true thing in the world of and Nero. 
Will love and trust ever be enough when survival and truth is paramount?

When a baby unites two worlds, and a contract blossoms into love.

To save my terminally ill wife and daughter, I drained half my wolf blood and tore out my own right fang.
Stripped of my source power, I became a worthless wolf despised by the entire clan.
My wife cast me out of the den, pinching her nose at the stench of rot on me; my daughter threw stones at me, cursing me with hatred as a blind, useless failure.
Together, they set their eyes on another young, strong Alpha. They let him trample my dignity in public, and finally had me brutally slaughtered on the frozen wasteland.
But they never knew, the reason that man could make their souls submit and fall for him was that his veins ran entirely with my heart's blood.
Only when I was reduced to a boneless husk of a wolf did my wife go mad, clawing her own gland raw, weeping and begging me to leave her one last mark.

"Sire, humans, northern border", a guard rushed into the throne room panting out,

"Father, should I take care of this?", his son asked, tired of sitting down in the castle all day,

"No, you stay here and make sure that your sister does not leave her room, she has seen enough of that human boy", he ordered, "How could she even claim to love him when his father tried to kill your mother?".


With almost twenty years gone, Alpha King Dwayne and Luna Queen Daphne had given birth to another child; a daughter, Desiree with the soul and spirit of her shrewd and merciless father.
She eventually finds love but what happens when her love is given to the wrong person of the wrong specie? Would the Luna Princess accept her father's wishes or would she allow an inevitable war to take place? Would the Alpha Prince and Luna Queen support her or go against her chase for her love?

●This is the book two of The Luna Queen.
●Mature Content.
●Womem are openly called bitches.
●Humans were extinct

To pay off my father’s debt, I married a wheelchair-bound vampire duke’s heir.
He couldn’t hear me or answer, so I told him everything—my heartbreaks, humiliations, and deepest secrets.
I thought no one would ever know.
Then one morning, he regained his hearing and asked, “Who did you say you had a crush on last night? Say it again.”

I have been tormented by a strange illness for ten years, with blood draws and surgeries being commonplace.
My mother always encouraged me, saying, "Nian Nian, bear with it a little longer. The pain will be over soon. Mom and Dad are doing this to save your life."
Hoping to be cured as soon as possible, I gritted my teeth and endured ten years of painful treatments, even if it meant living like a lab subject.
That was until I accidentally overheard my parents’ cruel conversation:
“Increase the blood draw even more. It doesn’t matter if she dies—she was only picked up to save Ying Ying. As long as she has a breath left, she owes it to us.”
At that moment, I finally understood: I was never sick at all.
The decade of daily treatments were nothing but a way to use me to extend the life of their biological daughter.

On our first wedding anniversary, I walked into my husband's office and found him having sex with my best friend.

He didn't even apologize. Instead, claiming he was disgusted that I hadn't produced an heir in a year of marriage, he threw divorce papers in my face.

Five years later, I returned to New York with my new husband—Cassian Vitiello, the Godfather of the North American underworld.

Vincent ran into me at the docks. He handed me a business card, offering me a job as a nanny for his mistress's son.

What he didn't know was that the woman he was mocking was now the Donna—the woman the entire East Coast underground feared.

I burn through eighty years of my life raising three dogs that turn around and tear into me.

My vampire husband, Damian, used to be an outcast covered in festering sores, cursed to fear the sun. I cut my wrist and gave up thirty years of my life so he could become the most powerful man among the bloodlines, in control of half the world's wealth. Cold and ruthless to everyone else, he only ever bares his fangs for me.

Knox, the werewolf boy I grew up with, was born with a genetic flaw that kept him from ever shifting. I gave up another twenty years so he could have the strongest bloodline of all. Wild and reckless, he used to swear he'd carry me on his back for the rest of his life.

Julian, my human brother, got burned beyond recognition saving me from a fire. I spent my last thirty years giving him back a face people would pay a fortune for. He used to send crates of his paintings to my room, the kind of work people would kill to own.

Then a woman named Daphne shows up, and all three of them lose their minds over her.

And somehow I become the jealous, vicious wife everyone wants gone.

She cries that I pushed her, so they drive blades of blood straight through my bones.

She says I'm cruel to the staff, so they break my legs in front of a crowd.

And when I'm dying, they drain my blood to keep her alive.

If you're all going to treat the life I gave you like trash, then I'm taking it back. The strength, the face, the life. All of it.

[God, I take it back. I want everything I gave them returned to me.]

I spent five years letting men degrade me at a club, all to save $300,000 for my blind brother Joren's eye surgery.
The day I finally raised the money, I excitedly told him he would be able to see again—only to discover he was never blind to begin with.
My husband’s "bankrupt" company had been thriving all along. My parents, who supposedly died in a plane crash, had been living luxuriously abroad.
My husband even took my "stillborn" daughter and gave her to my adopted sister.
My entire family conned me for five years to "teach me a lesson"—all because my adopted sister claimed I bullied her.
Now, they are forcing me to donate my liver to the woman who stole my life, threatening that I'll never see my biological daughter again if I refuse.
But what they don't know is that I have terminal liver cancer, and I only have two days left to live...

I was driving my dad's luxury car to pick up a friend when his secretary stopped me on the spot.
She mistook me for the lover who had sex with my dad in his office.
So she used car theft as an excuse to drag me into the basement, beat me up, and took nude photos of me.
When my dad found out, he asked me to apologize to her.
That's when I realized that in his eyes, his reputation mattered more than his own daughter.
If that's the case, he doesn't need to be the figurehead CEO anymore.

I always thought if I just held on a little longer, I could still keep this family together.
But my mate Ethan and my brother William poured all their favoritism onto Ava and her mother, and left me nothing but coldness and humiliation.
They could even look me in the eye and say, “She’s your sister too,” like that was enough to make me bless them.
That night, I did something so insane it bordered on self-destruction: I dragged my suitcase out the door and let the house that held all my memories get swallowed by flames.
The news exploded, our villa became ruins. The security footage showed “no one leaves,” and the police made a preliminary judgment that the person inside was “highly likely deceased.”
Ethan didn’t believe it.
Not until he and William were handed that bag of belongings at the police station, a diamond, a Blood Moonstone, the things I treasured most, did they finally understand: I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I was really, truly done with them.
Too bad.

Ella is a 17 year old servant, who has been abused by the alpha and beta of her pack for quite sometimes. After they are killed, a new alpha takes over the pack and Ella tries to run away and start a new life for herself.
However, fate does not allow her to escape into the human world, when she gets caught and taken back to the pack house to be punished by her new alpha for running away.
Alpha Klaus is conflicted about punishing a 17 year old girl who was obviously running away from something, or someone. Yet, he needed to set an example out of her to prove to his new pack that he is not to be crossed with.
Dangerous secrets require alpha Klaus to keep Ella safe and protect her despite her apparent hatred of him. Will she ever be able to trust another alpha again? Will alpha Klaus ever open his heart to someone else after he lost his mate?

Adrian Whitmore used to call me obsessive whenever I asked where he had been with my best friend. Then I lost our baby, stopped asking, and moved into the guest room. That was when the husband who had spent years pushing me away finally cornered me and demanded to know why I no longer cared.

In my previous life, an extreme cold apocalypse descended.

I risked my life nine times over to evolve into a high-tier Ice Plains Wolf, and just to find a piece of meat to keep my fiancée alive, I frantically tore apart wild beasts in the snow. Yet I was betrayed by her and her lover—they cut out my heart with an ice blade!

When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn half a month before the apocalypse!

Time was running out. To awaken the highest tier of beast-human form, I needed an enormous amount of meat to provide energy.

Sports cars? Ocean-view villas? Billions in assets? I wanted none of it!

I immediately dumped my manipulative fiancée, liquidated all my assets into cash, bought a fully enclosed fortified meat processing plant, and frantically stockpiled hundreds of thousands of tons of high-calorie raw meat!

The extreme cold arrived as expected, turning the entire city into a frozen hellscape.

The scumbag pair who betrayed me in my previous life now knelt outside my impregnable airlock door, crying pitifully and begging me for scraps.

I stepped out of my fortress and looked down at them with claws sharp enough to tear through steel:

"Want meat? Go to hell and eat dirt!"

I was never supposed to exist in the Blood Moon Pack, low-born, no surname, no family to shield me.
Yet the Alpha chose me and called me “his one and only mate for this lifetime”.
He said he loved me.
So I endured. I stepped back. I forgave him again and again.
Until the day I was pushed down the stairs, dragged into the punishment grounds, strapped to an electric restraint bed, and heard them calmly discussing how far they should go this time; what kind of punishment would finally make the “real family” feel at ease?
That was when I understood in their world, I wasn’t a mate. I wasn’t family. I wasn’t even seen as a person. I was just a bargaining chip, but something disposable, something meant to be sacrificed when convenient.
So I learned to stay quiet, to remember everything, and to wait.
They thought I died in that fire.
But when I stepped back into the moonlight, I was no longer an Omega.

The day I signed the divorce papers, Ethan Frost lit up the night sky with thousands of drones spelling out, ‘Vivian Moore, I love you.’ The whole city celebrated his new romance.
On our daughter, Sophie’s birthday, he watched coldly as Vivian’s daughter snatched away her favorite Elsa princess cake—and didn’t even blink when I was shoved down the stairs. Bleeding and trembling, I looked up to see him tenderly massaging Vivian’s feet.
But what truly shattered me was the day Sophie struggled in the pool—Ethan held me back, eyes dark, roaring, “What do you want?”
Later, he scrambled to Sophie’s photo on his knees, crying “Where’s Sophie? Bring her out.” While I only felt absurd, I smiled through my tears “you will never see Sophie again—ever.”

Seven years ago, I signed a mate contract as Luna.
For my mother’s dying wish and for the Pack’s stability, I personally pushed a man with nothing to his name onto the Alpha throne.
I held the Pack together for him, expanded our businesses, and handled the filthy negotiations and the deals no one wanted to see in the light.
Everyone said—
I was calm, I was formidable, I was qualified.
Just… not much like a “gentle mate.”
Until that day.
I stood in the bedroom and watched my Alpha husband lay his hand over my paralyzed stepsister’s slightly rounded belly.
They told me it was for the greater good of the Pack.
That child would be registered under my name.
He would call me Mother.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream.
I just waited for the seven-year term to hit its end and activated the trust clause my mother left behind.
Accounts frozen.
Capital withdrawn.
The wolf empire I built with my own hands collapsed overnight.

If a zombie opens its bloody maw at you — not to eat you, but to trade for a steak —

Do you take the deal?

I opened a wasteland exchange with a hundred thousand tons of frozen meat, priced everything with a barcode scanner, and used the Law of the Abyss as my guarantee.

When the mechanical army surrounded my cold storage, I hit the citywide broadcast:

"Big order, open to all — whoever tears apart the man on that heavy truck eats as much meat as they want."

Six months ago, a yacht explosion consumed everyone I loved: my husband Leonard, my parents, and my brother.
I escaped only because of stomach pain that kept me from boarding. My adopted sister Claire became the sole survivor.
Since then, I've become an empty shell.
Even after being diagnosed with terminal uterine cancer, even while carrying my late husband's child, I've endured the agony of chemotherapy alone, exhausting what little strength remains to scrape together money for Claire—who hides away in a private care facility, claiming severe PTSD.
Until this winter day, with a blizzard approaching.
Dragging my dying body to my husband's memorial to pay respects, I discovered a credit card statement—charges made three months after his death.
Following the address on that receipt, I pushed open the door of a luxurious suburban villa.
Inside, it was warm as spring. My parents and brother, who should have been at the bottom of the ocean, stood there perfectly alive.
At the center of the room, my husband—the man I'd grieved for day and night—was kissing my adopted sister, his lips tender against hers.
The whole family was celebrating, raising glasses to toast the infant cradled in Claire's arms—barely a month old.
There had never been any disaster at sea.
It was all a meticulously planned hoax—their twisted way to erase me from their lives forever.

For ten silent years, I propped up a boy named Lycan—the least favored Alpha heir in his pack. Everyone said his bloodline was too thin, that he didn’t even deserve to compete for succession.

So I paved the way with money, used resources to help him awaken his bloodline, sent him to the best academy, and made sure he not only secured the position of pack’s new Alpha, but also crossed into the human world to become an Oscar-winning actor hailed by millions.

Tonight was his coronation and his Oscar night rolled into one. I sat in the shadows of the audience, watching him grip the trophy, debonair under the spotlight, genuinely happy for him. When his gaze skimmed across the crowd and landed on me, my chest warmed.
Did Lycan…notice me?

The next second, he faced the camera and spoke, frost-cold:
“I want to thank someone—she taught me what harassment really is.”

"Why? Why are you choosing me?", I asked him,
"Because every king must have a queen", he replied simply,
"But...", I began still confused as hell,
"Do not question my authority", he growled at me, "You shall be my Luna Queen and that is final", he demanded before stomping away...


Daphne Rosen is an outspoken and crazy twenty two year old. She is in fact a lycan under the Delta family. Alpha King Dwayne Edwards takes a liking towards her and makes her his queen which leaves her wondering... Why her?

●Humans are extinct.
●Children can shift freely once they can walk.
●Women are openly called bitches

Mature content

Everyone thinks Nadia Hart is pure innocence—sweet, soft-spoken, and untouchable. She is the girl no one ever suspects of harboring dark, dangerous desires. Her best friend, Brielle, is the exact opposite: loud, reckless, and addicted to taking whatever—and whoever—she wants. Especially her own stepfather, Kane Vale.

Brielle treats Kane like a secret she owns. Nadia listens, pretending not to care. But behind her quiet smile lies a dirty secret: Kane isn't a stranger. Long before Brielle brought her home, Nadia shared an uninhibited night with him in the dark.

The moment Kane sees Nadia in his house, recognition burns through him. He knows exactly who she is, and he’s been waiting for her to break. What starts with a covert midnight rendezvous and a near-catch by a sleepwalking Brielle quickly spirals into a taboo dynamic. When Nadia catches Brielle and Kane in the act the next afternoon, Brielle doesn't back down—she pulls Nadia deeper into the fire, convincing her to join them in a boundary-pushing threesome......

Warning Matured Content [Rated +18]

Randall lifted the veil I was wearing and gently pressed his soft lips against mine. I closed my eyes.

“I am so pleased to present the newlyweds, Randall Adams and Winter Harris Adams!”

I yearn after I open my eyes. It is just a dream. But that didn't happen because rising my eyes, only the click, the light of the camera, and the applause of the people popped into my depressed eyes.

Randall, the handsome billionaire, stands beside me, claiming that we have been a pair of lovers for so long.

But I don't recognize him.

Because I lost my memory.

The third girl knelt between his legs, planting slow, teasing kisses across his abs, their warm breath mixing with the haze of smoke in the room.

The dim, colored lights bathed their bodies in a sultry glow, and the pounding music created a rhythmic beat to their movements.

Damian’s head lolled back lazily as he took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling seductively around him. He exhaled slowly, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure and disinterest, as if none of this was new to him.

The door suddenly creaked open.

"Ugh, what the hell is this?!" a startled female voice pierced through the music.

I used to be the Rosewood family's most beloved youngest daughter, until they took in Sabrina as their adopted daughter and everything changed.
My family said Sabrina's father saved my life, that I owed her everything. They forced me to donate blood for Sabrina until I was drained dry, demanded I give her my heart, and I died a miserable death on Christmas Eve.
As I lay dying, I could still hear them discussing how to throw Sabrina 'a unique Christmas party' to celebrate her recovery.
When I opened my eyes again, I'd been reborn, sent back to the day they first forced me to donate blood years ago.
This time, I yanked out the needle myself and slammed the family severance papers at their shocked faces. "The papers are signed. From now on, I have nothing to do with the Rosewoods."
Later, I became Nicholas Harrington's bride, taking on the surname that commanded worldwide respect. My designs swept across the globe, my name shining on the international stage, while the Rosewood family went bankrupt. My brothers knelt outside the Harrington estate, sobbing and begging for my forgiveness.
I stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching coldly. Nicholas wrapped his arms around me from behind, his chin resting gently against my hair, and murmured adoringly, "My princess, I've acquired the Rosewood family. It's yours now."

I've buried three fiancés in six months.

What's one more, right?

Killing him should have been easy.

I've had a gun to his head. A knife to his throat. I've watched him sleep and pictured every way I could end it.

But every single time, he looks at me like he knows exactly what I'm thinking. And smiles anyway.

Raffaele Fierro is either the bravest man I've ever met or the most dangerous. I'm starting to think he's both.

What I didn't count on was him knowing my darkest secret — and using it to own me.
He knows I killed his brothers. All three of them.

And he still wants me.

What kind of man does that?

And now, I can't decide which one I want more — to finally pull the trigger.
Or to let him ruin me completely.

Incubi were all the rage these days.
I couldn't afford one, so I picked one up off the street instead.
Unfortunately, mine seemed to be defective.
He had a terrible attitude, showed absolutely no interest in me, and would rather starve than feed on magical energy the way a proper incubus was supposed to.
Eventually, I gave up trying to figure him out myself.
I took a picture of the glowing sigil on his lower abdomen and sent it to an online seller who specialized in magical familiars.
The seller nearly lost her mind.
[MA'AM, PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE JOKING! THAT IS NOT AN INCUBUS!]
[THAT'S A DEMON. AND NOT JUST ANY DEMON. THAT'S ONE OF THE WORST KINDS!]

Everyone knew my twin sister wouldn't live past eighteen. So they gave her all the love, leaving me to survive in the shadows.
When I suffered a asthma attack on our birthday, my mother locked me in the basement.
"Stop faking it. Don't ruin your sister's last birthday," my mother hissed.
She thought I was throwing a tantrum for attention.
She was wrong.
I died on the cold concrete floor while they sang Happy Birthday upstairs.
Now, I am just a ghost floating in our living room. I watch my parents complain about my selfishness. I watch them make empty promises to treat me better tomorrow.
They don't know there is no tomorrow for me...

"First, unlimited funds. Second, you clean up every mess I make. Third, keep out of my private life."
Those were the arrogant demands my student laid out when I, the top art professor in New York, offered to make him my exclusive protégé.
The entire faculty gasped. No one dared speak to a Voss heiress like that.
Instead, looking at his face, I gave a slow, quiet nod.
"Agreed," I whispered. "Just make sure you never ruin that face."
He thought I was just another rich, desperate woman blinded by love. He spent my money, flaunted his little girlfriend in my face, and trampled all over my dignity, thinking I would never let him go.
He forgot one crucial detail about being a substitute.
The moment the original returns... the fake becomes worthless.

Rule #1 of cheating: Always turn off your personal hotspot!
Text from Jaxon (7:00 PM): “Coach is killing us tonight. Stuck at practice. Wish I was at the concert with you, future wifey. 🥺”
My iPhone (8:30 PM): Connected to Jaxon’s Personal Hotspot.
My heart flatlined.
As fate would have it, the stage spotlight hit my face. The singer handed me a mic.
Instead of playing the lucky fan, I turned the concert into a massive manhunt.
The jumbotron found him in Section 104.
He wasn't alone.
When the cameras exposed his panicked face and the blonde in his arms, I gave him the ultimate send-off in front of a live audience:
"I'm officially dropping you. You two deserve each other. Match made in hell. "

Eight years ago, I formed a mate bond with Alpha Lucian Blackwood, ruler of the Silver Fang Pack, and became his Luna.
I thought it was a blessing from the Moon Goddess.
Only when he brought home that sick she-wolf, Jasmine Moon, did I finally understand.
I was nothing but a substitute.
A tool meant to take care of him and his son.
And now, they wanted me to hand over even the last of my dignity.

Have you ever been treated like a stand-in for your dead sibling by your own mother? I have.

Have you ever been murdered by your own mother? I have.

My name is Aira, and today is my sister Lily's birthday. It's also the anniversary of my death—the day the washing machine became my coffin.

"Why couldn't it have been you who died?"

After four long years, my mom finally got her wish.

After my eighth trip to the psychiatric ward, I finally became the perfect, obedient wife my husband always wanted—even when I caught his childhood friend giving him a handjob in our living room.

"Ever heard of knocking?" Eric snapped, his eyes dark with irritation. "If those hands are useless, might as well chop them off." Without a word, I grabbed a kitchen knife and raised it toward my wrist. He kicked it away, screaming at me to stop being dramatic. So, I turned and charged headfirst toward the floor-to-ceiling window.

When I woke up, I heard him laughing with her. "She's fine. Just another attention stunt." He didn't know that the "treatment" he authorized had broken my mind into a million jagged pieces. He didn't know about the shock collars, the waterboarding, the dark cells. He thought I was finally "cured" of my jealousy.

It wasn't until a rafting trip, when his friend pushed me into the rapids and my prosthetic eye popped out and rolled across the deck, that his world shattered. As he stared at the empty black socket where my left eye used to be, he finally realized what those facilities had done to me. He dropped to his knees, screaming my name, but the woman who loved him was already dead.

Will his tears be enough to bring back the wife he destroyed, or is this just the beginning of his hell?

Six months after our breakup, I ran into my ex-boyfriend, Arlo, at the Beach Club's VIP party.
His new girlfriend, Calliope, tapped her champagne flute to demand everyone's attention.
"Let’s propose a toast to Arlo, who finally crawled out of his pathetic past."
Arlo wrapped his arm around Calliope and threw a mocking glance at my dress.
"The smartest thing I ever did was letting that charity case pay off my fifty-grand car loan."
"Once I got my Varsity jacket, I dumped her for my actual queen."
A collective gasp ripped through the room.
Everyone thought I would storm out in tears, but I just smiled and signaled for the show to go on.
"What exactly are you raising a glass to, Juno?"
I leaned back in my chair and looked at her calmly.
"I’m just celebrating that you guys are having fun on my turf."
"YOUR turf?"

The winter I was eight, I found my own face in a trash can.
It was on a missing-child flyer. The girl on it had been gone five years. She had a birthmark on the back of her neck.
So did I.
There was a reward. A number with a long row of zeros. I didn't want it.
I was cold. I hadn't eaten since yesterday.
I just wanted a mom.
So that night, with a stranger's coins, I called the number at the bottom.
A woman answered on the first ring and screamed a name at me like it was mine.
She got to say it three times.
Then a hand came out of the dark behind me and hung up the phone for me.

My husband is sleeping with my own sister. Cliché, right? I drove to Black Pine Lake to catch them, but stumbled into a brilliantly twisted murder trap instead. Now, the cops think I am a jealous, psychotic killer. Declan believes he dug the perfect grave for me. But did he?

Three months after my miscarriage, at the celebration dinner he hosts for my "recovery," he tells his partners in French, "She's just a trophy wife. Doesn't understand basic business."

"What about that new assistant? The twenty-two-year-old?"

"So much smarter," he laughs. "And in bed? Way more exciting."

They think I don't understand. To everyone here, I'm just the stay-at-home wife who gave up her VP position at an investment bank to play house.

They don't know I minored in French. I spent a full year studying abroad at the Sorbonne.

As I lay in the operating room, bleeding out from the miscarriage, he was already seeing her.

Je comprends tout. I understand everything.

Over the champagne and candlelight, I smile at him.

He has no idea this is the last time he'll ever see it.

I have been the Donna of the Smith family for nine years-all in name. I took my deceased twin sister Lily's place, caring for her daughter Emma, and living with a husband, David, who doesn't love me.

Over these nine years, I treated Emma like my own daughter, but she always saw me as the murderer who killed her mother, not knowing that it was her mother who took my marriage and my husband.

She shoved me publicly, calling me a murderer, even using the gun I gave her to shoot my only solace—a little bird.

But David, the man I loved, also favors Lily and her child. Every time he looks at me, it's with coldness and distance.