8778 Book(s) Related to the rebirth of the strongest man

Amanda Rousso married Kenneth Chavez for the thought that all her problems when it comes to finances will solve everything, but she is wrong because the moment she said yes to the fixed marriage, her soul was already buried six feet under the ground.

She never thought she would become a pawn in Kenneth’s twisted game, and trapped her in the marriage filled with broken vows and lies. Throughout 5 years of being together, she was able to learn how to love him and obey him, but Kenneth was so abusive and couldn't accept her because, for him, Amanda is the reason why his first love left him. In order to avenge her, she must endure all the cold treatment.

In the darkest moments of her life, Amanda decided to escape, and she stumbled into the arms of Damon Vera, the king of Mafia society who was feared by everyone. Damon pledged to protect her, but with one condition. She will marry Damon.

Now, Amanda must decide. Will she marry Damon to spare her life and run away from her past that keeps hunting her or get entangled in his life and power as if she stepped into another level of prison?

Faced with the dying Demon King's curse, my princess fiancée threw herself in front of the mage, shielding him with everything she had.

She shoved my battered, bleeding body toward the demon's most vicious curse.

Three years later, she arrived at my homeland with the kingdom's knights.

"Where is Lord Hero? I'm here to marry him."

The old man at the village entrance glanced at her:

"The Hero? He's been dead for a year now."

She froze.

Behind her, the knights who had served me loyally finally drew their swords.

"Your Highness, give us back our Hero!"

On our wedding day, she vanished wearing the gown I had bought for her.
I didn’t chase her. Instead, I went back to the operating table.
For three years, I had paid off her debts and filled the holes she left behind—enough for her to live a second life. My heart couldn't take it anymore; I had a stent implanted, though she never knew.
Three days later, I died in the hospital corridor. My ECG flatlined.
She didn’t know. She was still at a cocktail party in another city, clinking glasses with someone else.
A month later, she came back, kneeling before my tombstone in tears.
But it was all too late.

"Aveline, a world without you means nothing to me."
The dragon's scalding blood splattered across my tombstone, melting the thick blanket of snow.
Five minutes ago, he had severed the crimson fox's head—vengeance for me.
I died at the hands of my most cherished companion, died in a carefully orchestrated betrayal. I'd wielded the full power of the Court to elevate that pitiful low-born wretch to godhood, only for him to join forces with my dear sister and plunge a blade into my heart from behind.
And the dragon war god I had scorned—the one I'd humiliated and treated as nothing more than a beast slave—defied imperial decree, razed an entire city, and severed his own life force. All for me.
I watched his dragonfire extinguish completely in the bitter cold. My soul reached out to embrace him, but passed through nothing but endless snow.
Until a blinding light pierced through my vision.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself staring up at the familiar domed ceiling of the Celestial Hall.
I had returned to three years ago, to the Binding Ceremony that sealed my fate.
Reborn into a second chance, those vermin who climbed to power on dragon bones will finally get the hell they deserve.

"Maeve, your legs are shaking like that... can't hold them together much longer?"
Julian Kingsley pinned me against the wall with one hand, his gray-blue gaze sliding down shamelessly, sweeping over my rigid legs.
I bit down hard, forcing back that damned tremor between my thighs. "None of your fucking business. Back off."
Just as he pressed his body down, closing in, a cold mechanical voice exploded in my head:
[Welcome to the Truth Room.]
[Now, please complete a session of deep penetrative intercourse with a heart rate exceeding 120 for over two hours, or, upon refusal, surrender secrets.]
I stared at this sworn enemy I'd been fighting for seven years—who I'd accidentally fucked two months ago—and my breathing tightened instantly.
Because my biggest secret was this: I was carrying his kid.

Because I'm a scentless wolf, I can never find my fated mate.

My bestie Lydia, claiming she fears I'll be deceived and betrayed, subjects every wolf who approaches me to a "love test." She seduces my suitors in every way possible, then sends me photos of them together after sleeping with them.

"See? He can't be faithful to you at all. Don't let him fool you," she always tells me.

I always believed her persuasion. After enduring twenty disastrous and short-lived relationships, I finally agreed to the arranged marriage my father set up for me, becoming the mate of Alpha Damon.

And Lydia never stopped her testing.

In my past life, I discovered Damon and Lydia's betrayal after our marriage, and was ultimately pushed off a cliff by Lydia to my death.

The Moon Goddess granted me rebirth, bringing me back to right after the mating ceremony. This time, I will have my revenge.

My labor pains flaring violently the same day my husband’s widowed sister-in-law, Nancy, went into labor.
Nancy tricked everyone into believing I carried a girl while she bore the heir son.
Obsessed with securing the inheritance for Nancy’s fake male child, Rowdy locked me inside a hospital morgue cold storage, transferring all doctors, blood reserves and emergency gear to her VIP ward.
I knelt on icy ground, begging him to spare our baby and swore to renounce all family wealth, yet he kicked me aside and called me a greedy schemer.
His adopted sister Gina sneaked down, beat me brutally and injected a high-dose labor suppressant straight into my womb to stall my delivery.
It was only after Nancy delivered her baby that Rowdy belatedly remembered I was also stuck in labor downstairs.
Before he could head down to the basement, his panicked subordinate rushed in and cried, “Boss, Awful!—your wife and your son are died!”

Every time Mason tried to force me to back down, he would slam the divorce agreement onto the table.
Every time my parents wanted me to yield, they threatened to sever all ties with me.
What they wanted was simple: for me to give everything to my twin sister.
I once resisted, cried, and questioned them over and over—why was I always the one left hurt?
Until the doctor slid my medical test results in front of me, and said to me in a tone full of pity:
"The pancreatic cancer cells have metastasized. You only have one month left to live, maybe even less."
I had nothing left to care about. I was doomed no matter what, so they could do whatever they wanted with me.

A blizzard night. My car broke down in the middle of nowhere, and my legs had already lost all feeling.

With purple, cracked fingers, I dialed my fiancé, Silas.

Through the phone came the cozy crackle of a fireplace, and the sweet giggles of the fake heiress, Stella.

"Silas... save me... Route 82..." I gasped, my voice fading.

"Harper, this jealousy game makes me sick," he snapped. "Stella only sat in your passenger seat, and you play disappear? Go freeze to death out there. Don't bother us!"

Beep.

He hung up. Followed by a ruthless block.

He didn't know it wasn't a stunt for attention. It was my last SOS in this world.

When my body was dug out of the snowdrifts, frozen stiff along with the cheap engagement ring he bought on a whim, that arrogant man dropped to his knees on the icy morgue floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

Too bad, I could never see it again.

After my mother abandoned me, I did everything to be the perfect "good pup" so I wouldn't be thrown away again.
I smiled as I drank the burning pepper-water my brothers tricked me with. I held out my bleeding hands to take my father's cruel beatings. Even when they locked me in a pitch-black basement to die of a blistering fever, I thought that if I was just 'obedient enough', they would finally love me.
But as I lay dying on that cold concrete floor, something inside me broke forever.
When I finally woke up, I couldn't speak. I couldn't smile. I couldn't even stomach the sight of them. I no longer wanted their affection, their toys, or their love.
And ironically, the exact moment I stopped caring if I existed to them at all... was the moment my cold-blooded father and ruthless brothers fell to their knees in tears, desperately ready to give me the world just to hear me call them family one more time.

Ever since the day Roman pressed a gun to my head and condemned me as his parents' murderer, I became the most lowly prisoner in this estate.
 
He didn't kill me. Instead, he kept me in line using my dying mother's medical bills and my adopted sister, Callie, as leverage.
 
For three years, he paraded various women into the master bedroom, leaving me to change their tangled sheets; he ground my dignity into the dirt in front of his men, and I swallowed the humiliation in silence.
 
Until the day he wrapped his arm around a pregnant Callie, flaunting her in my face.

I finally broke down, falling to my knees at his feet:
 
"My mother is dying, and Callie is the only family I have left. I'm begging you—direct all your cruelty at me. Just let her go."
 
Roman merely scoffed. Twisting his hand into my hair, he dragged me all the way into the great hall.
 
There, my "terminally ill" mother stood holding a glass of expensive red wine, her face flushed and glowing with health as she smilingly stroked Callie's slightly rounded belly.
 
"Look—it was all a lie." Roman stared at me like I was trash. "Who told you to be so stubborn and refuse to confess? I dropped some spare change, and your mother willingly faked her illness for three years. And your sweet little sister? She calls me her husband in my bed every single day."
 
A brutal chill pierced my bones. I couldn't believe that the very blood relatives I had sacrificed my life to protect were the leeches draining me dry.
 
Roman slammed a Divorce Agreement onto the coffee table. Under the asset division column was an utterly humiliating number: $1.
 
"Callie is pregnant with the family's first-born heir. Be a good girl and sign it—this one dollar is your severance pay."
 
He was so absolutely certain that I would go completely insane at the sight of this pathetic dollar.

He assumed that even with a gun to my head, I would bawl and cling desperately to my title as the Don's wife.
 
But after a brief, dead silence, I signed my name.
 
Then, I picked up that one-dollar coin.
 
"You're right. Our last ten years together are worth exactly one dollar."
 
From this moment on, whether it was my bloodsucking family or the man I had loved for a decade...
 
We were completely, entirely done.

The System told me to do good deeds during the apocalypse.

It also told me to change the world through love.

I've always been the cooperative type. So I raised my blade, brought it down, and carved through the scum of this world—one slash at a time.

The System lost its mind, shrieking inside my head at a deafening pitch:

"AHHH! Host! Why are you killing people?! This counts as evil! Points will be deducted!"

I flicked the blood off my blade and looked up at the ground littered with zombies I'd decapitated.

Then at the man who had just shoved a living person into a horde of zombies as feed—the same man I'd put my blade straight through the throat of.

My fingertip traced the character carved into the hilt: Love.

"What's the problem?"

I shot back. "I'm using my love to send them exactly where they belong. A physical deliverance counts as a good deed."

Five years ago, Leo, the overlord of the abyss who ruled the seven seas, went into hiding and worked as a cook in a dilapidated tavern to save his savior.
When his benefactor was captured by the empire and was about to be executed, the arrogant governor forced him to crawl between his legs in order to see him.
He did as instructed, but was then tricked.
That night, a bone conch shell resounded throughout the seven seas, thousands of ghost warships besieged the city, and the kings of the underworld knelt in unison.
The former "scale-scraping chef" broke through the palace gates, cut through his shackles with a single stroke, and embraced the beauty: "I'll take you home for grilled fish, it's on me."

By day, I was the ruthless Director of Finance working under mafia heir Silvan. By night, I was the secret lover he kept locked away in a guest room.
He gave me luxury cars, a mansion, and endless money, but never a title. I thought he was protecting me—until he packaged both the title of his official wife and my position as CFO, handing them over to Aurea Moretti, a prominent mafia heiress.
And that arrogant man? He casually tossed me a diamond ring like a handout to pacify me. "Titles are just an illusion. Even if I marry someone else, you’ll always be the woman I care about most."
He even had the audacity to offer me a seaside villa, thinking he could keep me forever as his underground mistress in another city.
Looking at his cold, entitled eyes, I finally smiled.
On the day of his engagement to the mafia heiress, I took off the ring and vanished from this city completely.

All because I was unaware that Sophia had followed me on the mission, leaving her stranded in the chaotic dockyard.
My husband, Dante, was furious. He ordered his bodyguards to throw me into a seafood transfer warehouse.
“Cool off in the cold storage. Maybe then you’ll understand how helpless Sophia felt trapped in that container.”
It was a refrigeration unit for seafood, kept at a constant zero degrees, the air thick with the smell of fish.
I pounded on the door, pleading for help, but only Dante’s icy voice came through the intercom:
“Stop the act. The temperature in there won’t kill you. Stay inside and reflect until you learn your lesson.”
He cut the internal communication.
The temperature in the cold room kept dropping—someone had switched on the deep-freeze mode!
Shivering uncontrollably, I beat against the door until my nails left bloody scratches on the wall.
In agony, I curled into a ball. My consciousness faded, and my body grew stiff.
On the third day, Dante finally remembered me while celebrating the takeover of new territory.
In a rare show of mercy, he decided to have someone let me out.
But what he didn’t know was that my heart had already stopped beating from hypothermia long before.

In my first life, I provided free designs and materials at cost, only for my hometown to brand me a greedy fraud.
They destroyed my studio and left me with nothing—all because another woman promised to renovate their homes for twenty thousand dollars instead of eighty thousand.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day they surrounded my studio and demanded refunds.
This time, I didn’t explain.
I returned every cent, then personally removed their flooring, lights, appliances, and furniture.
As for how long the new homes they bought for twenty thousand dollars would remain livable—
That was no longer my problem.

My name is Ethan, and it wasn't until the apocalypse arrived that I realized just how cruel fate could be.

Ability awakening became the new normal. Most survivors gained some kind of supernatural power, ranging from F-rank to the legendary S-rank.

F-rank abilities were barely better than being ordinary, while S-rank ability users possessed the power to face a hundred enemies alone.

My childhood friend Davis awakened a B-rank ability [Thermal Perception], allowing him to sense the heat distribution of all living beings within a hundred-meter radius.

And me? I got the F-rank ability that everyone mocked—[Refresh].

"Hahaha! Refresh? What can that do? Refresh your life?" People at the camp always laughed at me like that.

But I didn't care. I only wanted to protect my sister Leia.

Leia is eighteen this year, one of the few ordinary people in this camp who haven't awakened an ability.

I swore to protect her, no matter the cost.

That evening at dusk, Davis came to find me, but he had already betrayed me and become a lackey of the Gray Mark Gang.

Three years ago, I took a bullet to save my fiancé Dante and lost my hearing and memory.
When I woke up, he stayed by my side, cared for me tenderly, and promised to love me for the rest of his life.
I thought I was the luckiest woman alive—until seven days before our wedding, when I overheard him say to his childhood sweetheart Stella:
“Give me seven more days. Once the wedding is over, I will cut all ties with her. From then on, it will only be you and the baby.”
It turned out he had already married Stella, and she was carrying his child.
I was nothing more than an easy pawn to manipulate in his revenge plan.
He forced me to donate blood for her, let her humiliate me in public, and did not hesitate to slap me when she faked a miscarriage.
He thought I would still wait obediently for him to come back, just like I had for the past three years.
What he did not know was that my hearing and memory had long returned, and I had rejoined the police force.

My godfather father fell gravely ill and passed the position of Don ahead of time to my fiancé Chris, whom I had not seen for two years.
But he did not fulfill his promise to marry me once I returned home, claiming instead that he would marry my half-sister Lily.
“Sophie has lost sight in her right eye. She is no longer fit to be the Don’s wife.”
“With Sophie’s dull temperament, what does she have besides the surname Rossi? If it weren’t for that position—”
So the feelings of all these years, the eye I lost, the suffering I endured in Sicily—none of it meant anything.
I was nothing more than a stepping stone for him to become the new Don.

“The wedding will go on as planned.”
Darren sat in the dimly lit living room, his voice flat as if he were commenting on the weather. But the fabric of my dress was already wrinkled in my fists, my nails cutting crescents into my skin—because only hours ago, I had seen it with my own eyes.
The man with crippling OCD, who never let anyone touch his things, had casually lifted Paisley’s glass and taken a sip.
My wolf, Emily, snarled restlessly in my mind: “He’s betrayed us! Break the bond—call it off!”
But I clung to the last threads of hope, my gaze locked on the wedding ring at his finger—engraved with both our names. He once told me the ring was crafted with a strong magnet, which whenever we were near, they’d pull together. Proof, he said, of us being true Fate Mates.
Until the night of the Moon Ceremony.
I walked toward him in my white gown, only to catch the naked loathing in his eyes.
“The mate I longed for isn’t you. I regret this.”

I was born to be the villain in my twin sister's fairy tale.

Thanks to a fake psychic's prophecy, my parents believed I was a parasite—a cursed child draining Amy's life with every success I had. To ensure she survived her national ballet finals, my father bolted me inside an abandoned meat freezer. Even the boy who once promised to protect me thought I was just throwing a selfish tantrum.

They toasted to Amy's victory in the warm living room. I froze to death in the pitch-black dark below.

When they finally open that iron door to punish me, the cruel joke will be on them. They won't find a daughter to scream at anymore. They will only find a frozen body.

I used to beg for their love, but watching them shatter over my corpse?

I feel absolutely nothing.

When I was twenty, my family's long-lost biological daughter finally came home.

At her welcome party, I worked all day, yet there wasn't even a seat for me.

My brother asked me to take their new family photo.

My fiancé wore the suit meant for our wedding and stood in the center with his arm linked through hers.

I smiled, pressed the shutter, and quietly left.

By the time they discovered the guest room was empty, my plane was already in the air.

From that day on, Mom waited for me beside meals that went cold.

Dad lost sleep clutching a torn photograph.

My brother and fiancé searched for me like madmen, while the real daughter knelt outside my old bedroom, begging her sister to come home.

I got back from a business trip and found the company gone.
The old Lawson Manufacturing plant outside Dayton was locked up tight. A printed notice was taped to the window: We have relocated to our new facility.
I pulled up the company Slack to ask what was going on. A message popped up instead: “Your account has been deactivated.”
I called the sales director right away. When she picked up, Vanessa Reed said, “Ethan Cole, you haven’t clocked in to the system in months. The company has terminated your employment.”
“I’ve been out on the road with clients,” I said. “Field sales has never had to clock in...”
“Never had to before. Now that I’m here, you do. You broke company policy, and the policy is termination.”
With that, she hung up with a click.
I stared at my phone, dazed, and muttered, “The company’s gone. So who’s supposed to sign this fifty-million-dollar deal I just brought home?”
...

Lana Moore wakes up from an accident that changed her life with memories that are full of holes and the name of a stranger on her lips. Adrian.
It's cold. Strong and untouchable.
And somehow connected to everything she can't remember.

Lana is taken to Paris under the pretense of safety, but she has to live next to a man whose eyes show both rage and desire. Adrian Blackwood is a billionaire with secrets that go deeper than the Seine and feelings he won't talk about. Lana finds old letters, hidden pictures, and a kiss from the past that she can't deny anymore, and their fragile truce is broken.

Lana starts to see the truth as rumours of betrayal spread and new enemies close in:

Adrian might have loved her at one time.
He might still love her now.
But he could also be the one who wanted her to leave.

Lana has to find out the truth about the man who protects and hurts her on the glittering streets of Paris, where there are rooftop confessions, masked desires, and storms that break both the sky and the heart.

Is he the love of her life?
Or the reason her life fell apart?

Danger comes back when memory comes back.
And the truth could destroy them both.

Corinne Baxter's father was an accountant. Quiet, careful, the kind of man who alphabetized the spice rack. Then someone puts a bullet in him and calls it a robbery. The only thing he leaves her is a claim ticket for a safety deposit box registered under a name she's never heard: Sorrentino.
To open that box, she needs Griffin Sorrentino, heir to the family half the city is afraid of, and the man everyone says ordered the hit. Griffin agrees to help her. He also refuses to explain why. Every answer he gives creates two more questions, and every night she spends inside his house convinces her a little more that the danger isn't coming from him.
It's coming from the one person she trusted enough to call for help.

When that dealer tortured me, my dad, a narcotics cop, and my mom, the city’s chief medical examiner, were busy celebrating my sister’s win in the volleyball semifinals. To get back at my dad for destroying his drug network three years earlier, that man cut my throat. Right before I died, I called my dad. Before I hung up, he said, “Cut it out. Serena’s game is what mattered most right now.”

My organs are failing, rotting from years of toxic lab work.
My only life-saving antidote was stolen by my husband and biased parents, given to adopted sister, Ivy.
I gave up any chance to live, injecting strong painkillers to endure crippling agony.
The price I paid: only three days until my organs shut down completely.
During those three days, I surrendered everything I owned:
I handed over the Ghost formula that monopolized the black market, and my mafia parents looked utterly relieved;
Marcus laid divorce papers before me. I signed without a second thought, and said I’d finally become sensible;
The day before my death, I spent the whole day out with my son, yet he only wanted Ivy for his mother;
I gifted Aphrodite, the beauty serum, as my husband and Ivy‘s wedding present, and every single one praised me for finally being meek and mild.
I thought myself:
When I’m dead, will they feel remorse for the things they’ve done to me?

The world honored Professor Guo Zhenghua for his devotion to justice—and praised his wife, Lin Wanyu, as a woman of rare integrity.
But Lin Wanyu was not her name.
The real Lin Wanyu was my grandmother. She died in a remote village without legal papers, a marked grave, or anyone willing to admit who she was.
When the impostors’ grandson demanded a position at my law firm, I told him no.
By morning, his family had taken my career.
By noon, I had opened the file that could take everything from them.

She was declared dead. They just didn’t expect her to come back richer, colder, and hungry for blood. Lyra Calloway once had everything: a doting father, a rightful inheritance, and a fiancé she trusted with her life. Then her half-sister and fiancé conspired to steal it all, staging a car accident to bury her secrets along with her body. She survived. And for two years, in silence, she rebuilt herself into someone they won’t recognise and won’t survive. Her weapon of choice: Ethan Vance. Cold, ruthless, and the one man with enough power and enough hatred for her ex-fiancé to help her burn his empire to the ground. Lyra offers him a deal, a marriage in name only, insider access to destroy their mutual enemy in exchange. Ethan agrees. But he adds a condition of his own: if she’s going to wear his ring, she belongs to him completely in every boardroom, every bedroom, every heartbeat of the plan. What Lyra doesn’t know is that Ethan isn’t a stranger she recruited. He’s the one who has been circling her life for years, waiting for the exact moment she’d have nowhere left to turn but to him. As their fake marriage entangles them in real desire, real danger, and a revenge plot that runs deeper than either of them planned, Lyra will have to decide if she’s using Ethan, or if he’s always been the one pulling her strings.

"Your husband is cheating on you."
That one message shattered Mia's perfect life.
Her loving husband? A liar.
His sweet words and late nights? Cover-ups for a double betrayal.
The worst part? One of them is engaged—to another man.
Determined to uncover the truth, Mia teams up with Colin—the heartbroken fiancé of her husband's mistress. What starts as a cold alliance soon turns into something more, as they unravel betrayal, lies, and twisted desires.
Now, with cameras rolling, secrets exposed, and hearts breaking, Mia must choose: walk away with dignity… or fight fire with fire.
When love is lost and revenge tastes sweet—
What do you do when you catch them cheating?

Book 8.5: Mercerian Tales: Honour Thy Ancestors Driven from their ancestral home by the Humans, the Orcs are forced to eke out an existence until one hunter dares to defy tradition. They had one sacred rule. Never, under any circumstances, go into the mud hut  Unlike other young Orcs, Urgon sees it as a challenge, and he's prepared to risk everything to unlock its secrets. Shrouded in mystery, what's inside reveals a hidden past of his people, leading him to question all that he thought he knew.  Urgon's father sacrificed himself for the future of the tribe—will he now do the same?  Mercerian Tales: Honour Thy Ancestors delves into the rich history of the Orcs of the Black Arrow by following the rise to power of their greatest chieftain, Urgon. Although best read between books eight and nine of the Heir to the Crown series, this book can also be read as a stand-alone tale.   Reach into the past to discover the future as you begin Honour Thy Ancestors today!

One drunken night. One baby. One Don who married me out of duty.

I was the family doctor, a nobody, when I got pregnant with Don Rafael Salvatore’s child. I thought if I stayed quiet, stayed good, and made myself useful, he would eventually love me and our daughter.

Seven years later, I’m still waiting.

Rafael never let Nina call him “Daddy.” When she was two, she said it by accident in public, and he made her walk home alone. She fell again and again, and he never looked back. When she was four, she slipped in the middle of an amusement park, and he dropped her hand. She was lost in the crowd for hours. She was found shaking in the bushes.

Still, my little girl kept hoping. Every time he tossed her a crumb, she held on to it like treasure.

Then Jasmine Hale, his first love, came home with her daughter, and everything changed. Suddenly Rafael had time. He smiled. He picked Nina up. He even gave her a teddy bear, which, I found out, Jasmine’s daughter had thrown away.

That night, Nina gave him three last chances.

He missed the first when he looked straight past her and chose another woman’s child. He missed the second when he skipped her parent-teacher night to play blocks with Jasmine’s daughter. And the third? He finally showed up, only to stand by while Nina’s class monitor title was handed to someone else.

So I signed the divorce papers, sent them off from the airport, and took our daughter far away.

Ten years of secret service honed my Phantom Legion, a force I built that could make a small nation tremble. On the day I retired and returned to New York, I found a cardboard tent next to a garbage dump in a Bronx back alley. Curled up inside was my daughter, whom I hadn't seen in five years. She was covered in bruises, barefoot, and clutching half a moldy loaf of bread. I picked her up and dialed the phone—"I want everyone who wronged her to suffer a fate worse than death! "

For ten years, I've been the biggest joke in Eden Fortress—a madman who draws a broken bow eight thousand times a day.
Duke, the plutocrat's heir, even uses me as cannon fodder bait.
But when the Crystalline Tyrant tears through the earth, when S-rank "savior" Duke pisses himself in terror before the monster, at that moment when the entire fortress waits in despair for death—I draw back that broken bow that's been mocked for ten years.

My eyes can see through the essence of all things, my empty bow can shoot down any existence.
From the beast's maw, one arrow obliterates the plutocrat's heir! From within the monster's belly, one arrow defeats the Mountain Tyrant! Above the fortress, one arrow disables all weaponry!

From bottom-tier waste and cannon fodder to the uncrowned king who brings an entire fortress to its knees—I use absolute strength to tell this world: True power never needs anyone's validation!

Sean Turner kissed his childhood sweetheart, Mia Moore, right in front of me.
He said he married me for benefits, not love.
He even tried to force me to give Mia my heart.
I agreed.
But after the transplant surgery, he regretted it—while I smiled.

She never saw it coming. After five years of marriage, it took a DNA test to blow everything up.

The son she raised from birth? Her husband's kid with his ex. And somehow, both of them knew the whole time and said nothing.

It gets worse. She overheard her husband's actual plan: wait for the ex to come back, then push her out of the company "nicely" and hand her five million as a goodbye gift.

Five million? She single-handedly kept that company alive, pouring in her own money and connections to clean up his messes. And that's all she's worth?

She was done. She wanted everything back that was hers.

The ungrateful kid? She's over it. The husband chasing his first love? Good riddance.

But the moment she walked away for real, both of them came running back.

"Baby, please. Just give me one more chance."

She didn't even look up.

Palesa Mokhosi, 24, is a broke architecture graduate in Maseru. Her mother needs emergency surgery: R350,000 in 7 days.

Michael Thorne, 32, is the ruthless CEO of Thorne Holdings. His board wants him out. His grandfather's will is clear: marry and stay married for one year, or lose his billion-rand empire.

A failed job interview becomes a proposal: "Marry me for one year. R5 million upfront. No love. No sex. No questions."

She says yes.

The contract is simple, until it isn't. Late-night whiskey, 2am meals from a man who claims he doesn't care, and the way he looks at her like she's the only real thing in his world.

Michael does control, not love — until his fake wife starts breaking every wall he built.

When her ex returns, his ex-fiancée reappears, and the board learns their fake marriage is turning real, everything unravels.

She was his fake wife. He was her paycheck. Now they're risking it all for each other.

Ophelia was born the weakest wolf in the pack, mocked, beaten, and treated like nothing. All she ever dreamed of was the day the Moon Goddess would give her a mate who would love her despite her flaws.

But when her fated mate was revealed, he didn’t claim her. He crushed her.

“I, Alpha Dominic, reject you as my mate. You will never be my Luna.”

The words tore her apart, and the pack’s laughter sealed her fate. Cast out, abandoned, and left to die, she thought her story had ended.

But the broken girl they discarded rose. The weak omega become stronger than them all. And the Alpha who rejected her bow at her feet.

I loved Kael Duskmane for fifteen years. I was his stepsister, quiet and loyal, always waiting for him to see me.
He never did. And in my first life, that love cost me everything.
Now I’ve been given a second chance, on the very day he asks me to give up my white wolf to save his fated mate.
I don’t argue. I don’t beg. I say yes, on one condition: when it’s done, I leave Duskfall Pack for good.
He thinks I’ll linger. He thinks I’ll wait for him to change his mind.
He’s wrong.
By the time Kael learns the truth about what I did for him, and who his precious mate really is, I’m already gone. He hunts me across the frozen north and falls to his knees, begging for one more chance.
But the girl who once lived for his attention is gone.
And I will never be his again.

I am the lead architect of this massive virtual sandbox world.

To save my NPC wife from a fatal car crash, I enabled a cheat code for her and lied, claiming she was a "VIP player" paying to experience an immersive life-simulation game.

She bought it completely. Not only did she openly flaunt her wealth to buy off a male assistant in front of the whole company, but she also trampled all over me, treating me like a "low-level NPC."

"I am the absolute main character of this world, and the system will always bail me out. As for you, you're just a line of junk code. Get out of my sight immediately."

Watching her face become twisted and arrogant from the illusion of privilege, the last trace of warmth in my eyes completely died out.

I calmly signed my resignation, revoked all her financial shields and vitality armor with a single click, then logged off and returned to the real world.

I knew that the moment I left, stripped of my protection, she would be instantly swallowed alive by the brutal laws of survival.

In my past life, I stopped my brother from donating a kidney to save his high school lover.
Lily didn't receive a transplant in time and died soon after.
Caleb kept his kidney. He passed the rookie draft physical, signed a max contract with a top team, and became the darling of the basketball world.
But he hated me for the rest of his life.

My parents called me cold and heartless. They said I killed Lily and destroyed Caleb's one true love.
Later, when Caleb hit a low point and needed someone to blame, my parents held me down while Arthur shattered my right hand.
They destroyed my career, drained my bank account, and left me to die of a raging fever in a rundown apartment.

Now, I open my eyes.
And I will never be their scapegoat again.

Three years ago, I exhausted everything I had in the Abyss Game to save my critically ill wife.
Three years later, my wife and her lover became an inseparable pair in the Abyss Game. To save their own lives, they used my only sister as a substitute, sending her to a dangerous situation where she was devoured by ghouls.
They thought I had lost everything and could be humiliated at will.
But when I chose to accept becoming the master of the Abyss Game, why did they suddenly kneel down and beg for mercy?

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.

Everyone in the Summer Court knew it: Princess Serilda Veyra had been spoiled rotten by her three consorts.
I won't deny it. I drank only the sweetest honeywine, ate only the lightest dewcakes, and wore nothing but dawnsilk. The moment anything displeased me, my consorts heard about it.
I was adored, so I never had a reason to hold back.
Then an outsider came to court.
Her name was Nerysah Zorvyn. Behind her ears grew a pair of dark petals, thin as dragonfly wings, that trembled in the slightest breeze. Rumor said their scent could make a fae see things that weren't there, but she never flaunted it. She masked it with wormwood and silverleaf and tucked the petals into her hair.
Where I was willful, she was warm. Half the court flocked to her.
And she didn't need a consort at all. She was raising her little boy, Moren, on her own in a cottage by the herb gardens, and she'd made a lovely life of it.
Little by little, my first consort began to find me too much. Too spoiled. Too demanding.
The day Finnian Lorrel left, he unpinned the Summer sigil from his shoulder, the badge that marked him as mine, and laid it on the table without a word. He was a Raven Knight. He'd never been one for speeches.
My other two consorts were furious on my behalf.
"You walked out on her, Finnian!" Joren bellowed after him. "Don't you dare come crawling back to Sera!" He slammed his fist into the doorframe so hard golden moss rained down.
Not long after, Joren left too.
I looked at Orian, the only one I had left, and my eyes stung. "Do you think I'm impossible too?"
He ruffled my hair. "Don't be silly. They're the idiots. They didn't know what they had."
Then, one afternoon, I saw him.
Just past the low fence of the herb garden, Orian had shifted into his golden panther form, the proudest beast in all the Summer Court. Claws sheathed, back lowered, he was padding at the outsider's heels, practically begging her to pet his head.
I ran, stumbling all the way to the study of my father, King Brenn Veyra.
"Father, this year's marriage alliance with the Winter Court. Let me be the one who goes."

My wife was forced to don a wedding dress to marry my sworn enemy, while my three-year-old daughter was locked in an iron cage suspended above the raging sea.

And I, the dignified Commander-in-Chief of the Blackwater Fleet, was forced to wear a dog collar, kneeling on broken glass and licking up red wine like a crippled stray dog.
All because embedded in their necks were biological bombs, the detonator held in the hands of my enemy.

The elites of the entire island ruthlessly mocked my cowardice, trampling me underfoot in ultimate humiliation.

That was until the climax of the maritime wedding, when my enemy smugly pressed the detonator, only for the collars to flash a safe green light—the full-frequency signal decryption was complete.
Amidst the dead silence of the crowd, I snapped the forged steel chains binding me and slowly stood tall.

The next second, ten nuclear-powered submarines violently breached the ocean surface, and tens of thousands of heavily armored death squads descended from the sky.

Looking at my enemy, now terrified to the point of incontinence and shattering his own knees to frantically kowtow and beg for mercy, I picked up that very dog chain and slipped it around his neck.

For five years of marriage, I endured my Alpha King husband's cold neglect because he claimed to suffer from "Bond Deficiency Syndrome," making him incapable of falling in love with his fated mate.

I took a silver bullet for him, yet when danger struck, he abandoned me without hesitation and ran to another woman.

It wasn't until I got pregnant with his Double Alpha heir and went to surprise him that I overheard his cold voice outside the door: "The illness is faked. Once she gives birth to the heir, this marriage can end."

It turned out he understood everything; he just didn't love me.

I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I faked my death during an attack, leaving behind nothing but a blood-soaked wedding ring.

Later, the Alpha King who claimed he couldn't feel love went completely mad.

He abandoned his territory and searched for me for a year and a half.

But when he finally knelt in the blizzard, begging me to come back, my child was resting on another man's shoulder, sweetly babbling the word "Daddy."

“You are a danger to my health, AVIANA, let me have you,” Duncan drawled, his hands on my waist, pulling me against his hard member.

“I…I… “ i stammered. Even though I knew n was getting myself into dangerous territory, I couldn't stop myself from wanting him. Ever part of my body was screaming for his touch and I could no longer deny his touch.

“Tell me yes, let me pleasure your body,” he whispered against my neck,”

I moaned out involuntarily and before I could stop myself, I yelled,
“Please, fuck me!”

Aviana Grey is not just another woman with a vendetta—she’s a sharp, relentless detective who spent nearly two decades chasing shadows, determined to uncover the truth about her mother’s murder at the hands of the Iron Vine Mafia. After years of preparation, she finally gains the opportunity to infiltrate the Mafia, but her plans take an unexpected turn when she meets Duncan, their ruthless leader and Alpha werewolf. As she delves deeper into their world, she discovers secrets that blur the line between human and monster—and finds herself irresistibly drawn to the one man she’s sworn to destroy.

The childhood love between “Kab Kluen” and “He Xing Yi” began with the close bond between their families, tied together by a promise that the two would one day marry.
But fate had other plans.
When Kab Kluen’s family had to return to Thailand permanently,
distance and time caused He Xing Yi to forget that childhood vow.
He found love with someone new and had no interest in marrying Kab Kluen anymore.
Yet fate intervened again.
On his deathbed, Kab Kluen’s father made one final request:
that He Xing Yi marry his son.
Though unwilling, He Xing Yi had no choice but to comply.
What followed were two long years of a marriage in name only.
Kab Kluen gave his all, hoping that one day, He Xing Yi would love him back.
But in return, he was met only with indifference… and heartbreak, again and again.
Where will this love—so painfully one-sided—ultimately lead?
Even Kab Kluen himself doesn’t know the answer…

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.