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

EXCERPT:
"You are mine!", he screamed at me with a scowl on his handsome face,
"I wasn't yours when you rejected me that morning", I tried my best to mirror his features but I failed miserably. He placed a small smirk on his face, his scowl leaving as he closed the gap between us and placed his hand on my waist, making a shiver run up my spine,
"You were always mine, Brea", he pulled me closer to him and buried his head in my neck, inhaling my scent and defying my personal space, "And you will always be mine". I felt his teeth scraping my shoulder blade- he was going to mark me and I didn't have the willpower to stop him...
"Mummy!", my son's voice snapped me out of my intoxicated trance and I took a quick step away from the man who had always been a stranger to me. I gathered my boy into my hands and placed him on my hip before looking towards the man again. He had shock written all over his face as he blinked vigorously,
"Is that...", he drew off,
"Ours? Yes", I wanted to lie to him, tell him the child in my arms wasn't his, maybe he would feel the same pain I felt the day he rejected me...


Brea Adler, rejected by her mate and her entire pack is forced to leave after she could not put up with it anymore. She ends up in another pack with an Alpha, Brennon Kane who treats her like a queen and they instantly fall in love.

What happens five years later when her mate and former Alpha, Jax Montero visits her new pack to discuss pack issues? What happens when he finds out she has a child for him?

The morning after the Haze, I open my eyes expecting to see the love of my life, my fated mate. Instead, I see... HIM! "This can't be happening!" *** Would you rather live in a world where the impossible is possible or the possible is impossible? Blanca faces an uncertain future when she finds she's mated to the one man she never thought could be her mate. If Kieran is her mate, then her entire life is a lie. Since she's been abused her whole life, that might be a good thing. But this is... wrong on so many levels. Will Blanca find out the truth about her real identity--or be banished from her pack forever? If you like love with a twist, give this one a chance--don't quit too soon, or you'll never find out Blanca's secret!

Tags;#R18,#Romance,#Rebirth,#BL,#CEO,#Revenge,#Powerfulcouple,#Sweetlove,#Superpowers.

"Mu Zhen... Please forgive me... Please forgive me..." Ye Mei stretched her hands out but couldn't reach Mu Zhen's hand, tears streamed down her cheeks after realizing the kind of stupid mistakes she had committed in her entire life.

Mu Zhen crawled closer and leaned on the chunky tree as he caught and dragged Ye Mei's body closer hugging her tightly in his arms.

To him he was useless that he couldn't save her, he couldn't ensure her safety and above all, they couldn't escape.

"I will always forgive you... Ye Mei, could you be selfish next time and love me as much as I have loved you?

Could you please never repeat the same mistakes? If I go back in time I would still love you, I would still do everything for you Ye Mei " He gently caressed her face which was bruised and had several glaring marks left from knife cuts.

*********************************

Ye Mei suffered in her last life when her twin sister and the man she thought she loved killed her babies...

She betrayed the man who loved her for the man she loved but didn't love her.

She ended up miserable and crippled in the wheelchair and unknowingly she had been used to poison the only man that loved her and finally died with her.

She returns to when she was in high school and she is no longer a forty-year-old crippled woman, all ugly and blind.

What path does she take to fulfill the man who loved her for his dying wish? What would become of her with her revenge and hatred?

I don't own the cover and the credit goes to the owner, if you want me to pull it down please do reach out to me..

**Weekly Targets..

*1000 power stones= 2 bonus chapter.
*1200 power stones= 3 bonus chapters
*1500 power stones= 4 bonus chapters.
*10Golden Tickets= 2 bonus chapters.
100 Golden Tickets= 5 bonus chapters.

*Monthly Targets...
500 Golden Tickets= 5 bonus chapters.

1000 Golden Tickets= 10 bonus chapters.

At the press conference, my husband Thaddeus Getty publicly declared his love for his first love in front of all the media.
In an instant, the whole world knew I was a wife who wasn't cherished by her husband.
Heartbroken but not defeated, despite my deep love, I chose to leave.
Months later, Thaddeus looked at my belly and snarled through gritted teeth: "Tell me, whose bastard child is this?"

“Are all your books this dangerous?”

Andy’s amber eyes gleamed with amusement. “Dangerous?”

“I got dragged into Cinderella, nearly caught half naked in Rapunzel’s tower, and now one of your books knows my name.”

“Miss Turner, you keep coming back.”

Unfortunately, he had me there.

And even more unfortunately, I was beginning to suspect the books weren’t the only reason.

⸻

Thirty-year-old Paige Turner has always been more comfortable repairing old books than starring in her own love story. Quiet, practical, and happiest surrounded by dusty pages, she expects nothing more exciting from life than a stubborn binding and an evening alone.

Then she discovers The Forbidden Shelf, an impossible bookstore hidden down an Albuquerque alley.

Its owner, Andy More, is charming, infuriating, and far too handsome for a man who spends his days recommending enchanted erotica. His books do not simply tell fairytales. They pull Paige inside them, where princes flirt, towers hide secrets, fae gardens have opinions, and happily ever after can become adult.

But Paige is unlike Andy’s other customers.

They enjoy the fantasies and come back for more.

Paige asks questions.

She learns to leave the stories whenever she wants, enter them wherever she chooses, and even attracts the attention of a forbidden book Andy cannot control.

The more Paige investigates the magic, the more fascinated Andy becomes with her.

What Paige does not know is that her mysterious bookseller has spent centuries keeping one important boundary between himself and his readers. Andy is no ordinary man, and the enchanted stories are far more connected to him than she realizes.

He has never broken his own rules.

Until Paige.

When she discovers who Andy really is, and how involved he has been in her fairytale adventures, will she still choose the bookseller waiting beyond the page?

Ava married him to save him from his vicious girlfriend, but at the altar, he whispered: "Just as you ruin me, I promise to ruin you beyond repair."
What followed was hell—his girlfriend in their bed, hot soup on her face, and a name she never thought she'd call herself: bitch.
When she couldn't endure anymore, she did what he always wanted. She threw her ring into the rain and signed the divorce papers.
Four years later, she's back. A Zillionaire. With three gorgeous sons who have his eyes.
Her husband knelt before her at the airport, flowers in hand. "Please forgive me, wifey."
She adjusted her sunglasses. "Ex," she remarked. "Get ready. Things will get messier from now on."

Kate Brady doesn’t exist. She’s a name on a passport, a voice Jackson Ruspoli has started to trust, a lie built carefully enough to survive inside the walls of Ruspoli Industries. Underneath her is Natalie Cromwell, a woman who died the same year her father did, when his ruined name became the only inheritance she had left.

Getting close to Jackson was supposed to be simple: find the buried proof that clears her father, and disappear before anyone learns her real name. But Jackson isn’t the careless mark she expected.
He’s sharp enough to know something about her doesn’t add up, and dangerous enough that being caught could cost her more than the job.

Then someone else starts using her real name.
Someone who remembers exactly what happened ten years ago, and wants the kind of ending that doesn’t leave room for the truth to matter, only for everything to burn. Now Natalie isn’t just racing to expose what Jackson’s family did. She’s racing to stop a stranger from destroying her only chance to do it right, before she becomes the one person left to blame.

The closer she gets to the truth, the closer she gets to Jackson. And the more she has to lose the moment he finds out who she really is.

She came here to be the hunter. She’s starting to realize she might already be the prey.

Rowan is seven years younger than Max; the first warning to stay away. But staying away isn’t an option. Forced to live under the same roof as his mulish stepbrother, Rowan discovers the one person he should fear most is the one he can’t stop thinking about.

Max thrives on chaos, and Rowan quickly becomes his favorite target. But Rowan has a secret: he’s falling for the boy who bullies and seems determined to destroy him. Max makes it clear he hates Rowan, and even clearer that he doesn’t like boys.

In a house built on resentment, the line between hate and need starts to blur. And once Max starts watching, Rowan might never be able to hide, and Max might never be able to look away.

Claudia's parents die because of false accusations and Claudia became a slave to the pack. She only hoped that she could leave the pack when she became an adult. So when she found out that her mate was the son of the Alpha of the pack, she chose to reject her Alpha mate.
As the future Alpha of the pack, Isaac had been loved by everyone since he was born, with his handsome looks and good qualities of kindness and enthusiasm. When he found out that his mate was a slave of the pack, he was disappointed, but he couldn't help but pay attention to Claudia.
Until he was rejected by Claudia, he went completely crazy.
Claudia, who rejected her mate, discovered the secret of her birth, and as the daughter of a witch, she had powerful mind-reading ability and became the famous negotiator.
Two years later, the Moon Goddess gave her a second chance, but Claudia found that her mate was still Isaacc.
What else will happen between them? In the face of Isaac's strong personality change, will Claudia choose to redeem him or reject him again?

Amelia is starting high school with her best friend Lola — confident, magnetic, fearless Lola — the girl who makes the world feel manageable. While Amelia juggles grief, an absent father, and the heavy responsibility of raising her younger brothers, Lola is her escape. Her courage. Her voice. The version of herself she wishes she could be.
But when a body lies at Amelia’s feet, and her hands are covered in blood that isn’t hers, one question echoes louder than the rest:
How did it come to this?
As the school year unfolds, cracks begin to show — in friendships, in family, and in Amelia’s own mind. The lines between loyalty and control blur. Between truth and perception. Between who she is… and who she thinks she needs to be.
Because some friendships don’t just shape you.
They consume you.
And when the illusion shatters, there’s always something left behind.

I died painfully after being sacrificed by my foster family.
Reborn, I walk away from their fake affection.
My true billionaire kin treat me as their priceless princess.
All those who once hurt me get what they deserve. A powerful, quiet tycoon stands firmly on my side, shielding me from all schemes and malice.

Gideon Henry. Billionaire. Powerful. Drop-dead gorgeous.
He's one of the most prominent business tycoons in the country. But for me, he's nothing but a devil.
He's done terrible things to me. He forced me to marry him. He made my life a living hell. He's the reason I lost the two most important people in my life—the man I love and our baby.
But when Gideon got into an accident and lost all of his memories, I didn't expect that he would turn into a different person. He's become kind, caring… and a loving husband to me.
And I woke up one day… realizing that I'm already falling in love with him…

Three years together, and the texts I'd sent Nolan Garrett could probably fill an entire medical chart.

Pasta or salad for dinner. Rain boots or sneakers when it was pouring. I ran everything by him.

Then one night, right in front of me, he muted my texts.

"Can you grow up a little?" He didn't even look up. "Not everything has to go through me."

After that, I really did stop asking.

I signed the papers for my transfer to the Denver office before it even occurred to me to tell him.

My best friend Meredith's wedding invitation said I could bring a plus-one. I RSVP'd for one.

I even found a surgeon for my wrist and picked the date myself.

Not that it mattered. All his patience had gone to his student, Amber Lowell, a long time ago.

The night I found out I was pregnant, I called him. He was with Amber. All he said was to stop making trouble, and then he hung up.

So I never told him he was going to be a dad.

By the time he finally thought of me, I was already on a plane to Denver.

I'd be half a country away, and out of his life for good.

I thought I was the perfect wife and mother, until I heard my husband outside his office, laughing, calling me a "prison warden" and planning to use our daughter as cover while he ran off to Tuscany with his grad student.

Everything fell apart. Then my daughter, in front of everyone: "That's just our annoying nanny."

I tried to hold on to what was left of our family, but my daughter shoved me down the stairs. I lost the baby, and my husband just checked his watch while I bled out on the floor.

They locked me in and left for Italy.

Alone in the hospital, they told me I'd lost the baby and had "memory damage."

Now they're back, expecting the same obedient wife.

She's gone.

And I'm done loving them.

I got pregnant the year we could barely afford to eat.

My boyfriend, Mason Caldwell, took out an online loan to pay for the abortion. At least, that was what he told me.

While I was recovering, the best thing I ate was a $2 chicken leg from the discount grocery store.

It broke my heart to watch him work construction all day and deliver food all night. So after three days in bed, I took a serving shift at the private club where my friend worked.

“People fight over these shifts,” she told me. “Good money, big tips. I only squeezed you in because I know things are rough.”

Then she added, “You just serve drinks. Nobody gets to ask you for anything else.”

That night, I found Mason in a VIP room, seated in the middle of a crowd that hung on his every word.

He ordered seven or eight bottles of red wine at $25,000 apiece. Someone said the watch he gave a bottle-service waitress was worth $220,000.

After midnight, he wiped the lipstick off his cheek and reached for the bike helmet beside him.

“Mason, you're still playing house with that woman? Still playing the delivery guy and the factory worker?”

“Your dad's on your ass about getting married. End it already. If she finds out who you are, you'll never get rid of her.”

Mason laughed. “She's not smart enough to figure it out.”

I stood in the dark beside the door, holding my empty tray, my head down.

The clinic had charged $600. The food he'd bought me over those three days came to $30.

$630.

Exactly the price of the fruit platter on their table.

That was all I had cost him.

That night, I was dragged into a parking lot and beaten until my hands could never hold a scalpel again.

I thought it was random. Until I heard my own brother and fiancé talking—

"Those thugs went too far, but the result works out, doesn't it? This time, the award will go to Charlotte."

Charlotte. The "poor orphan" my family adopted.

For twelve years, she stole my papers, my opportunities, my glory. And the two men I trusted most handed her everything on a silver platter.

They called me spoiled. Selfish. Difficult.

They even believed I started the fire that killed our parents twelve years ago.

But here's the truth: Charlotte started that fire. I was the one who dragged them out.

They thanked the wrong sister. For twelve years.

Now they want me dead.

Fine. Let Penelope Ashworth die.

I was always the last one picked.
In gym class, nobody wanted me on their team until there was no one else left.
At White Elephant exchanges, I always ended up with the worst gift.
Even when classmates invited me out to eat, I somehow wound up covering the bill.
Then I went to college and met Brooke, who always saved me a seat, and Ethan, my boyfriend, who stepped in whenever things got awkward.
For three years, we did everything together.
We rushed to eight a.m. lectures, split DoorDash delivery fees, and walked back from the library at two in the morning after late-night study sessions.
When my parents divorced and neither seemed to want me, Brooke and Ethan stayed.
They even set their phones to alert them whenever I texted.
For the first time, I believed I'd found people who would never leave me behind.
Then came the night of our final exams.
We were at a party on the second floor of a downtown hotel when every phone in the room blared with a tornado warning.
People screamed and rushed toward the stairs, desperate to reach the hotel's designated storm shelter downstairs.
Ethan grabbed Brooke and headed for the exit.
I was right behind them when he shoved a banquet table out of his way.
The table scraped across the floor and slid directly into my path.
My foot caught on one of its legs, and I went down hard.
Before I could get back up, a massive crystal chandelier came crashing down.
Part of its heavy frame struck my back, and broken glass scattered across the floor.
I gritted my teeth and forced myself to get up. With everyone rushing past me, I had no time to think about the pain.
I just needed to get somewhere safe.
By the time I reached the hotel's storm shelter, Ethan and Brooke were nowhere in sight.
I'd been left behind again.
I pulled out my phone and texted my aunt Dana.
[I'll do it. I'll sign up for the trial.]

On my wedding anniversary, I died a brutal death, drained of every drop of blood by my husband’s socalled “sacred snow ferret”. That creature was Sylvia, his longdead true love striving for rebirth. For three long years, I was nothing more than a disposable blood vessel. Even my own son betrayed me for hollow, false affection.
Given a second chance at life, I cast aside all foolish mercy. I watched coldly as my hypocritical mage husband and traitorous son doted on the ferret, and documented every one of their heinous crimes.
I turned his longawaited reunion into a boneandflesh feast.
When the Templar tribunal finally arrived to pass judgment, I broke free from the cage of my old life and stepped out toward my own boundless freedom.

I make a living solving cold cases, earning just enough to get by.
Until I saw my long-time crush on the latest corpse.
He used to be an unreachable light, but now he's the deepest darkness before my eyes.
At this moment, he stands across from me, eyes full of innocence, asking for my help, saying he loves me.
Should I arrest him, or trust him?

Being born a Moretti daughter means one thing: the family owns you.

In my past life, Vivian thought she had what it took. She promised Dad she could handle it, swore up and down she'd make him proud. Six months later, she'd burned through three generations of work and left us with nothing but an empty shell. Our enemies found her eventually. Broke both her legs.

And me? I married Marco Rossi.

Everyone envied me for marrying into one of the most powerful families in the city. What they didn't know was that I was his prisoner. He used me, turned my family's connections into stepping stones for himself, spent my money on his mistresses, used my body as a bargaining chip at his deals.

In the end, Vivian killed me. Jealous of my "perfect life," she dragged herself over on those broken legs and put a bullet in me.

When I open my eyes again, I'm sitting in Dad's study.

The door slams open. Vivian bursts in, cutting me off before I can speak. "Dad! I'm marrying Marco Rossi! Give the family to Sienna!"

I look at her and smile.

This time, I'm going to survive. And I'm going to do a hell of a lot better than just survive.

I married into a wealthy family in place of my runaway sister, but my husband, Damian, refuses to touch me.

He refuses to dance with me in public, rejects my kiss, and even has my luggage dumped in the hotel lobby.

Believing he despises me, I pull off my wedding ring and prepare to leave.

But the moment my blood touches the blue diamond, I hear his thoughts:

“Leave. I want her too much. If she comes any closer, I really will hurt her.”

Three years ago, on a night when it wouldn't stop raining, I carried Victor Caster out of a pile of bodies.

He'd taken two bullets. He grabbed my ankle and said: when I get back, I'll give you the world.

But when he came back, it was my sister Sabrina on his arm.

After that she was the woman who ran the Caster house, and I was the crazy one they locked away upstate.

Three years later, at the engagement party, Sabrina opened up her own wrist and screamed that I did it.

I tried to explain.

But the man I'd given half my life to save wouldn't even look at me. He just flicked his hand.

"Her hands don't know their place. Take them. And I don't want that face in front of me."

He never once looked up.

So why is it that the next time he sees me, the moment he really looks at my face, he goes down on his knees?

For five years, my husband told me I was lucky. A human with no magic, no name, no worth — and he, the Dark Elf King, had taken me in anyway.
I believed him. I swallowed every insult in his court. I let his nobles call my son a halfbreed bastard.
Then he promised our boy he'd come to his fifth birthday, and instead he knocked him across the garden for biting the woman he'd been sneaking off to every night.
That was the day I stopped waiting.
I didn't scream. I didn't beg. I took my son and I erased us — our scent, our warmth, every hair, every speck of dust. As far as the world is concerned, we were never in it at all.
Three months later, he's on his knees outside the Celestial Sanctum, offering half his soul to any god who will find his missing wife.
He should be careful what he asks for.

Ryan Aldridge had one rule: he showed up for whoever needed him most.

The problem was, it was never me.

Throat swelling shut in the ER? He was unclogging Sloane Harrington's drain. Anniversary dinner? He left between courses because Sloane was "spiraling."

I forgave it every time. I was the cool girl. The understanding fiancée.

Then my studio caught fire, and a beam came down on my chest.

I lay there—bleeding, pinned, choking on smoke—and watched Ryan vault over me to carry out a woman with a sprained ankle.

"Jocelyn, come on. You can handle this. Look at her—she's shaking."

Something in me went still. Not broken. Finished.

I twisted off the ring with blood-slick fingers and let it disappear into the ash.

Then I disappeared too.

Everyone in town said I dumped my blind boyfriend because I couldn't stand being poor.
Five years later, I'd become a blind drifter myself, relying on handouts just to eat.
And he'd become one of Silicon Valley's hottest rising tech moguls.
He recognized me, but pretended he didn't.
He wanted me on my knees. Wanted me begging. Wanted me to pay for "abandoning" him.
Until he found out the person who gave up everything for him back then was no one else...
But me.

I stood by him through the grief of losing his first love, serving as his substitute wife for five years, giving birth to two pups, and giving him my all. Yet none of that mattered the moment his white moonlight said, “I’m back.”

For his first love, he forced me to kneel and beg for mercy to confess to a crime I never committed—only then did he tell me it was just a dummy of my brother!
But his first love was the one who told me she’d secretly swapped my real brother for the dummy long before.

My husband favored her, my own pups turned against me. They saw me as an enemy while worshiping his white moonlight like a treasure.

My heart died. I divorced him and fled far away. Only then did they wake up to the truth: his white moonlight was a venomous witch, and I was the one who’d been wronged and loved him truly.

One modern smartphone. Zero social skills. And a world of women who want his "magic."
Arthur lived seventy years as a "good man"a polite way of saying he died a virgin with a literal allergy to women. Touched by his purity, the Goddess Venus offers him a second chance in another realm of Venhus. But thanks to a divine blunder, Arthur wakes up as a 20 year old scrawny, powerless orphan in a world where women rule with magic and steel.
His only lifeline? A Spectral Smartphone that can order anything from Earth...from Glocks and Kevlar to Flamin' Hot Cheetos. The catch: the currency is Venus Points (VP), earned only through physical and romantic intimacy.
For a man who breaks out in hives during a handshake, Arthur is in a comedic hell. To survive greedy queens and demon mages, he must overcome his terror and "farm" points from the very women he’s spent a lifetime avoiding.
Building an empire is easy. Surviving the first kiss is the real boss fight.

She was spoiled and the only daughter of Italy’s most feared Mafia empire. But I was never supposed to fall for the one man paid to protect me.
Luca Bianchi. My father's most trusted bodyguard. A man with secrets darker than his tailored suits and eyes that have haunted me since I was sixteen. When threats close in and betrayal strikes from inside our mansion, my parents send me away with the one man I swore I hated.
But this isn’t just about stolen glances and red lace. Because someone is hunting me.
And Luca might be the only one who can save me.
He’s the bodyguard. I’m the heiress.
And in this deadly game of bullets and betrayal…
I might just be the one who gets claimed.

Her daughter lay dying—her only chance at survival resting in a bone marrow transplant from her biological father.
That man, the one Stella Johnson had once loved with all her heart, was nowhere to be found.
While Stella made call after call, hands trembling with desperation, Charles Hart was busy building a crystal castle for the daughter of his beloved white moonlight—lighting up the entire city with fireworks in her honor.
All Stella got in return was a cold, clipped response:
"I'm busy."
And then… silence.
She waited.
And waited.
Until the warmth left her daughter's tiny hand.
He never came.
Cradling the small urn, Stella stepped into the streets—only to be greeted by a cruel spectacle.
Every digital screen on the bustling boulevard played the same scene:
Charles, his white moonlight, and their daughter, smiling under the fireworks as they sang "Happy Birthday," basking in a future built on someone else's grave.
The love Stella once held for Charles didn't just die that night—it was burned to ash.
And from those ashes, something far stronger rose:
Hatred. Cold. Sharp. Unforgiving.

When her marriage comes to an abrupt end, Sparkle tries to channel her pain into saving a dog that has been condemned to die after being involved in a terrible accident, but after a few weeks, she makes the horrible discovery that the dog she saved is, in fact, no dog at all. She saved a badly injured wolf she has mistaken for a husky. He's a powerful alpha who is very ruthless to humans, and Sparkle is no exception, or is she? Find out what becomes of Sparkle when Dalton finally regains his strength and reclaims his pack.


I saved a dying husky from being euthanized, not knowing I was bringing a billionaire Alpha werewolf into my bed. My husband divorced me because he thought I was infertile, kicking me out for a dog he was allergic to. I had nothing left but the injured animal in my backseat. I nursed him, bandaged him, and poured my broken heart out to him. But one morning, the dog was gone. In his place stood Dalton Roux, the most powerful Alpha in the city. He didn't just thank me. He kidnapped me to his mansion, claiming it was for my "protection." "You saved my life," he whispered, his voice dropping an octave as his hands roamed my curves. He pinned me against the wall, his massive erection pressing against my thigh, growling possessively.

I hate Beckett Hayes.
I hate his stupidly perfect face.
I hate the arrogant smirk that has sold millions of jerseys.
I hate that half of Chicago seems to worship the ground his skates touch.
But mostly? I hate what he did to my brother.
Eight years ago, Beckett Hayes destroyed my family. I haven't spoken to him since.
So naturally, on the first morning of my dream job with Chicago's hottest professional hockey team, I find him leaning against my office door.
Older. Bigger. Hotter. And wearing the same infuriating smile I remember.
My new job should have nothing to do with Beck. Until another one of the captain's scandals lands him in trouble and management decides I'm exactly the person he needs.
Now I'm traveling with him. Managing him. Arguing with him. Trying very hard not to notice what years of professional hockey have done to his body.
Then a photograph of us nearly kissing goes viral.
Suddenly everyone wants Beckett Hayes and Sloane Mercer together. The team. The sponsors. The fans. Everyone except me.
Because I know exactly who Beck is. At least, I thought I did.
But the closer I get to him, the more the story I've believed for eight years starts falling apart.
Beck didn't destroy my brother. He protected him.
And the man I've spent almost a decade hating? He's spent every one of those years wanting me.

My name is Arthur, Atlantic City’s number one pauper and absolute peerless coward.
On the outside, I roar with sheer arrogance: "The debt collector has returned from Hell!"
On the inside, I’m sobbing hysterically: "Mommy, save me! I really don‘t want to act tough!"
My name is Arthur, a complete coward whose hands shake even when trying to kill a chicken.
That was, until I was bound to a completely unhinged [Absolute Bully System].
[Ding! Novice Bully Quest: Crash the Mafia banquet and splash red wine on the face of the corporate heiress!]
[Ding! Advanced Quest: Steal the Underground Godfather's wife!]
[Ding! Ultimate Quest: Walk right up to the Underground Godfather and slap him mercilessly across the face!]
"Screw you! I don't even have the guts to kill a chicken, and you want me to beat up the Emperor of the Underworld? No way! I'd rather starve to death than dig my own grave!"
[Ding! Host's refusal detected. Punishment impending: Serial sphincter rupture resulting in explosive public diarrhea, accompanied by penile retraction into the abdomen, and the reverse fracturing of all 206 bones. It will take seven days and seven nights for you to finally die! Countdown: 3 seconds.]
"... System Daddy, I was wrong."
To avoid dying of explosive diarrhea, I had no choice but to let the System control my body, kick the doors open, heft a Gatling gun, and laugh maniacally: "So you're supposed to be the Underground Emperor?!"
But deep down in my heart, I was wailing uncontrollably: "Mommy, save me! I really don't want to act tough anymore!"

When I was ten, my parents faked a messy divorce and turned my life into a sick reality show.
They split up me and my twin sister, Romy. She got the Alpine mansion and my mother's luxurious lifestyle.
I was dumped in a moldy basement, scrubbing diner plates and clinging to my physics books to survive my father's "gambling addiction." 
For eight years, I starved to pay off his staged debts. Then, on our eighteenth birthday, Romy casually texted me a link to StreamLens, an exclusive voyeur site for bored billionaires, followed by a few stabbing messages:
[Surprise, sis. Mom and Dad never actually split. We're perfectly happy ]
[It's honestly sad watching you skip meals, but you know how it is.]
[You were the "older sister," so they chose you to be the one raised in the dirt.] 
I clicked the link. The site's #1 live feed was a giant split screen titled: "The Twin Experiment: Raised Poor vs. Raised Rich—Which Sister Comes Out on Top?" 
On the left: me, freezing in a leaky cellar. On the right: Gareth and Marissa playfully hugging Romy on a velvet sofa, slicing into a massive birthday cake. The debt, the loan sharks, my absolute misery—it was all just entertainment. 
Through the feed, Romy stared straight into the hidden camera, flashing a sickly-sweet smile. 
“Smile for the cameras, sis. Your suffering bought us this gorgeous house.”

My daughter has been blind since birth. On her eighteenth birthday, she finally received news of a matching cornea donor.
Our whole family was so excited we couldn't sleep that night. My husband and daughter eagerly prepared for the surgery, their hearts filled with hope that she would soon see the light.
But I suddenly slammed my hand on the table and, amidst the family's stunned gazes, proposed a divorce on the spot.
My husband's face turned ashen as he demanded harshly, "You want a divorce just because I'm going through with our daughter's surgery?"
I curled the corner of my mouth and enunciated every word: "That's right. Because you're going through with her surgery—this marriage is over."

"I gave you a life… and you took mine with it."

She woke up in a sterile hospital room, her body aching, her womb empty.
The child she carried—gone.
No name. No face. No goodbye.

To him, it was just a transaction. A contract. A child born of benefit.
To her, it was the beginning of everything—and the end of herself.

Years passed. Her heart hardened. But fate, cruel and poetic, dragged him back into her orbit.
Only this time, there are secrets.
And bloodlines.
And a storm of revenge, waiting to unravel them both.

In a world where love is a luxury and hatred is inherited, how do you survive the one man who cost you everything… yet still makes your heart ache?

Seventy-two hours before my wedding, I stood in front of the fitting mirror at a bridal shop.

My best friend sent me a social media post, and the red exclamation mark in the message box stung my eyes sharply.

The post’s title read: Guys, my boyfriend is getting married to his current partner. What should I do?

The comment section had already erupted into chaos.
“Dude, are you out of your mind? You’re the other woman here!”
“You’re the homewrecker and you dare post this to get roasted? Where’s your shame?”

The poster was firing back furiously, every word oozing unapologetic madness:
“We’ve been inseparable since we were kids! His first love, first kiss, first time—all mine!”
“He doesn’t even like that old hag; he’s only marrying her out of obligation!”
“Who’s the real mistress, anyway?”

I should have swiped past it like a silly joke, but my gaze was locked onto the poster’s profile picture.

It showed two hands laced together. Peeking out from the man’s wrist was a dark green watch dial—a Richard Mille Valentine’s Day limited edition. It was the seven-figure engagement gift I’d bought him by selling my mother’s last precious heirloom, the only one of its kind in the world.

My heart was squeezed tight by an icy hand, plummeting to the bottom in an instant.

I tapped into the account’s homepage. The second my finger swiped open the photo album, a dizzying, world-spinning sensation crashed over me.

In the photos, the man holding the girl closely was none other than Lu Yanchen—my fiancé, who was supposed to marry me in three days.

I stared at the screen. All the wedding hopes and love I’d saved up over three years shattered into nothing but dust at this moment.

I couldn’t believe it, yet I had to. The man who’d loved me for three years and sworn to protect me forever had been lying to me from start to finish.

On my first day as an intern at the zoo, the old director assigned us animals to care for.
In my previous life, my classmate Jack chose the easy-to-care-for African elephant, while I was forced to take on the brutal Siberian tiger.
A month later, the apocalypse struck, and the Siberian tiger successfully evolved, leading me to escape the encirclement.
Jack's elephant, however, couldn't outrun the mutated species and was torn to pieces. Driven
by jealousy, the surviving Jack incited a mob to brutally beat me and the giant tiger to death, dismembering and cannibalizing us.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the animals were assigned.
Jack had already taken the Siberian tiger, pushing the elephant to me, and I knew he had also been reborn.
But what he didn't know was that the Siberian tiger he had devoured was also reborn with me.

She was once a top-tier assassin—until she was betrayed by her own people and left to die.

But when she opens her eyes again, she’s no longer who she used to be. She’s become an ordinary high school girl—plain, overlooked, and the butt of everyone’s jokes.

Overweight. Bottom of the class. Abused by her stepmother. Framed by her younger brother. Mocked by teachers and students alike. Maybe the original owner of this body could endure it all—but she couldn’t.

They call her ugly? She’ll shed the weight, sculpt her body, and stun everyone into silence.
They call her stupid? Elite university presidents will fight to recruit her.
Top hackers will beg to learn her secrets.
Global financial tycoons will compete for her partnership.

This time, all she wants… is a quiet, ordinary life.

Yet as her true identity is revealed piece by piece, she rises—effortlessly—back to the very top of the world.

Duke Orion von Hawthorne is feared by kingdoms, yet cursed with one weakness—he cannot produce an heir. Only a Velaryn woman can break that curse.
He never expected to find one in the Dark Forest.
Sylvara Nyx, wild and painted in gold, fights him like a cornered starfire beast. She is powerful. Untamed. Dangerous. And Orion takes her captive, determined to claim what he believes is his.
But what if the woman he captured… is the one thing he can never keep?

I waited two years for a donor heart. When one finally came, my husband gave it to Odette Ashworth, the girl who had been living my life.
My cardiologist gave me one week. So I made arrangements to have my body cryopreserved.
And I donated it to the very lab where Odette worked.
The day I signed the papers, my son threw his arms around me and said he was so glad Mommy and Aunt Odette were friends again.
My parents told me they were proud I'd finally learned what it means to be a sister.
My husband smiled, relieved, and said I'd finally let go of my grudges and started being reasonable.
I smiled back. They were right. This time, I really had learned my place.
I was going to hand the Ashworth name back to Odette and give every last one of them exactly what they wanted.

Our clan worships the Spider Goddess.
To keep this face, every girl in our bloodline must sacrifice a truly evil man every ten years.
Just two weeks before my twentieth birthday, my mom asked me again over the phone:
"Sweetie, is it really that hard to find a sufficiently bad guy in a place like Ashfield?"
Right now, I’m looking at my boyfriend, who just handcuffed me to a bed. He’s laughing, negotiating a price with a buyer, thinking I’m tonight’s merchandise.
I think to myself—
Mom, I can answer your question now. This guy’s wickedness easily rivals your husband's—my father.

The Percy Family Heir's Scandal Leaks Again!

Cecilia Davis sat curled up in the master bedroom, scrolling through photos of Edward Percy and Jessica Brown.

The photos were taken secretly, but from a sharp angle.

Through a car window — the two of them, going at it hard.

Cecilia let out a cold laugh, tossed the photos into the trash, and felt a wave of deep exhaustion wash over her eyes.

"Do I really have to cut it?"

"Ma'am, this is Mr. Percy's request. Only if you cut your hair as short as Ms. Brown's can we clear up last night's rumors. Of course, you don't have to go — that is, if you never want to see your brother again."

Edward's assistant Leo spoke with a dismissive air, not a trace of respect in his eyes.

As if she, the so-called Mrs. Percy, was nothing more than a joke that nobody needed.

And honestly, that's exactly what she was.

"Look at you! You’ve changed! You're really a wolf. And you're my mate! My Luna! Can't you feel our bond? Can't you remember that? You must accept it, and I am your Alpha, Alex is our pup! We must unite to make our powers stronger! To protect and save our son!" Gerald pulled her into his bed and united their powers in a primitive way. Making love.

"Let go of me! Don't be silly! I'm not a wolf! I am human! You're not my mate! The only thing I remember is... You're a murderer! You killed my father!" Jennifer shouted at him with an angry face.


What would happen if you were revealed to be a werewolf? And you were Luna? The one who disappeared six years ago? And she was the mate of Alpha Blackstone - Geralt Williams 30 years old, The CEO of Williams Enterprise! She even had a child with him! The one she hates so much? Who made her miserable? The arrogant man who was also her Ex-Boss!

Something that Jennifer Ross' which is 24 years old, Jennifer’s brain could not accept. She was living in the present, and she didn't believe in werewolves at all.

Why didn't she remember him?

What really happened to her? But why does he always come in Jennifer's dreams?

Until something happens to her and her son-Alexander, and Geralt Williams tries to save them.

Someone who completely ruined her life, rejected her, treated her like trash!

Even someone she should hate, and get revenge for killing her father!

What should she do?

Can she accept the fact that Geralt William is her mate, and she is his Luna?

Can they come together to save their son?

And forget her revenge for killing his father?

Can she forgive him?

WARNING: This book contains extreme dark themes such as Vouyerism, light bondage, Bdsm and other dark themes not meant for under 18.
Isla has survived seventeen years of her father's brutality with one desperate hope that her wolf will surface on her eighteenth birthday and finally set her free.
She shifts.
But freedom isn't what she gets.
The mate bond doesn't snap to one. It snaps to four.
Brock. Maddox. Slade. Colt. The Black Star quadruplets who've spent three years making her life a living hell.
And now the Moon Goddess has chained her soul to theirs.
They don't want her. They resent the bond. And they're planning to make her pay for trapping them in a fate none of them chose.
But when Isla's father discovers she's shifted, discovers what she's become, everything changes. The beatings stop. The cruelty shifts into something far more sinister. He starts making phone calls in hushed tones. He's been waiting for this. Planning for this. And Isla has seventy-two hours before whatever he has planned comes to pass.
Desperate and out of options, she goes to the four boys who hate her and makes an offer that will damn her either way.
————————-
"I need your protection," she whispers.
"Protection costs, little wolf." Slade’s hand wraps around her throat, not choking, just possessing. "What are you offering?"
"Anything. Everything."
"Strip." Brock ordered."Right here. Right now. Show us what we're getting."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then walk away and face whatever daddy dearest has planned." Colt taunted. "Your choice. Us or him."
Her hands shake as she reaches for the hem of her shirt.
"Good girl," Maddox purrs. "Now let's discuss the terms. Open your mouth and prove you mean it.”
—————————
When the unknown terror waiting at home is worse than the known cruelty of your tormentors...
When protection means surrendering everything to four Alphas who've spent years breaking you...
How do you know if you're being saved or just choosing a different kind of destruction?

In my past life, I personally dug up two alien meteorites, handing the blue one that granted "Frost Mastery" to my childhood friend, Mike. He repaid me by sealing me inside an ice wall, cursing me to "die like a piece of trash" in the minus 70-degree blizzard.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the initial blast site.
This time, I didn't even spare him a glance; I stuffed both meteorites into my pocket.
I transformed a missile silo into a doomsday bunker, brought my parents inside, and stockpiled ten years' worth of supplies.
When Mike arrived with a gang of thugs to smash my door down, I stood in the warm command center, watching half his face rot with frostbite on the monitor.
I didn't open the door.
This time, I am sending back the despair of my past life tenfold.

The night of the Choosing Ceremony was supposed to mark Sasha’s beginning. Instead, it becomes her undoing. Betrayed by the mate she trusted, shattered by the friend she loved, humiliated before the eyes of her pack.
But just when she feels like all hope is lost, an unexpected twist in the form of the exiled heir, Ronan, claims her with a truth that shakes her very soul.
“You were never his, Sasha. You were mine from the beginning. You bear the mark that only I can see…it changes everything.”
As old secrets stir and forbidden desire grows, Sasha’s world is set ablaze. But this time, she refuses to surrender her fate. Amid ancient prophecies and tangled loyalties, she will fight for a love and a future that is truly her own.
In a world ruled by destiny, sometimes the bravest thing you can do is choose yourself.

And in that moment, I knew one terrifying truth—

I wanted him.

And that feeling was dangerous.

Alpha Kayle and I have spent the last five years locked in a brutal dance of hatred, resentment, and twisted duty.

He didn’t choose me as his Luna. He was forced—bound to me by the will of his parents and the Elders, not by love, not even by desire. Just obligation.

And Kayle?

He was the most ruthless Alpha alive. All sharp edges, broad shoulders, and cold, wild blood. The kind of man who doesn’t take orders—except, apparently, when it came to me.

So he punished me. Every. Single. Night.

He brought different women into our home, into our bed, like I wasn’t even there. And he made sure I heard every moan, every scream, every fake cry of his name echo through the walls.

The entire pack knew. They watched, whispered, laughed. I became the sad, silent Luna. The biggest joke in the werewolf world.

And still, I stayed. Because leaving would’ve meant surrender. And I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.

I once thought that marrying Gabriel was my redemption in a time of despair, but little did I know, it was an eight-year-long hellish scam.
On the day of the wedding, my fiancé abandoned me for Lily, and during the pursuit, my parents were involved in a car accident — one dead and one severely injured.
It was him — Don Gabriel of the mafia family, who used his influence to send my mother to the best hospital, personally performing her surgery, but couldn't save her.
In the hospital, he publicly proposed, saying he would protect me for life, and I, desperate, agreed, clinging to it like a lifeline.
For eight years after marriage, every month, he used a syringe the size of a baby’s arm to draw my blood, saying that my blood type was rare and was being stored as an emergency reserve.
Even though I became weak and sick, I foolishly believed this was his care.