3172 Book(s) Related to i was hired to ruin him

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

Lysa loved Damian for seven years, yet hypnotic manipulation warped his memories, leading him to brand her the killer of his parents. With his own hands, he cut her bones and implanted canine fur, transforming her into a deformed half-human beast and subjecting her to endless humiliation and torture. She watched her mother die a brutal death and was forced to swallow her mother’s cremated ashes. At the brink of death, her ancestral sea spirit pendant awakened, shedding her mangled hound form to birth a tyrannical deep-sea siren. Once the scheming fake heroine’s lies were laid bare, Damian descended into madness, drowning in desperate remorse. Wielding the immortal power of a siren, Lysa cast all her tormentors into an endless living hell—and she would never grant them forgiveness.

After two years of marriage, I finally got pregnant. I rushed to my husband's office with lunch to share the news, but his assistant mistook me for a sugar baby trying to trap the CEO. She dragged me into a back room and dumped scalding coffee on my head. When I tried to explain I was the wife, she laughed and called security. They stripped my clothes, kicked my stomach repeatedly, and destroyed my ultrasound photo. I begged them to call my husband, but they smashed my phone instead. By the time he found me, our baby was gone.

I’m a billionaire heir, and I used to say yes to my girlfriend no matter what.

She swiped my card like it was hers, partied until sunrise, and while I lay in a hospital bed, I was still cleaning up her messes.

She never visited me once—yet I couldn’t let her go. I would have given her everything.

Until an accident made me realize the truth: my love wasn’t real. It was hypnosis.

Her father wanted control. He bribed my psychiatrist and rigged my treatment—so the moment I saw her face, I’d lose control, give in, and hand over whatever they wanted.

All that devotion was manufactured.

Now the hypnosis is gone. She thinks I’ll keep being her ATM.

She has no idea that the first thing I did after waking up was make her—and her father—pay.

"Do I want a taste?" his voice deeper than he had ever spoken. His eyes pinned on me like I was the only thing that fascinated him.

"What do I do? I thought to myself as he moved closer to me, I wanted to run away, to resist him but I was pinned to the wall by him. "Gosh I hate this man so much" his scent, his body, his beautiful green eyes, he was driving me crazy.
I know this is wrong, he has a fiancee and all but that makes me want him even mo re. "Get on the bed and spread your legs" his cold voice woke m e up and then I remembered I was just a maid to him. "Yes master".

“Too bad you tied yourself to this monster. I’ll never let you go. I didn’t come all the way to an island in the middle of the ocean, to let you get away from me.” Henry’s right hand descended lower, taking his time, discovering the pleasures of her curves, strumming her velvety skin. “Your body sings under my hands, Kitty Kat. You can’t deny it.” He whispered to her, cynical and enticing. “Even if your heart doesn’t agree with it, your body is mine.” Melina bucked forward when he pressed and delivered soft circles on her delicate nub, making her gasp and grind on him, as an impish smile curved his lips.

“Please, Henry…” she moaned. “Don’t stop…”

“Let me feel you clenching around my fingers, Melina.” Henry grunted, his control by a thread. She was beautiful, a sinful angel all flushed hot and looking at him with those glazed, chocolaty eyes, begging him to put an end to her sweet misery.


Greece was the refuge she chose for herself.

Amazing friends, a career

she adored, and a daughter she cherished with all her heart.

But a paradise island wasn't enough to keep the past away, and it came back to haunt her as the most handsome of nightmares.

He was her kidnapper, a mobster, and a murderer with blood in his hands.

He hurt her beyond words, but came back with renewed fire to make her his again.

Would he forgive her for lying to him?

Would she forget his terrible past?

Kingsrow International College is not for all kids. It’s for top kids, super smart kids, and kids who work hard. Atlas Knox Wainwright is all three. He’s head of the Kingsrow Knights basketball team. He’s the best kid in the school. He’s the boy no one can touch. His life is neat, in his hands, and just how he likes it.

Then Aurelia Hattie Miller from Houston, Texas comes, and all things change.

She talks big. She’s not neat. She speaks her mind and does what she likes. She does not fit in a fancy school like this, and Atlas tells her so. But when her marks go bad and his plan gets too much, they have to hang out each day. She needs him to teach her. He needs her to keep him on track. Both are mad about it.

But when you hang a lot with someone, you get them. You know their true self. Aurelia sees the hard weight Atlas holds in quiet. Atlas sees she tries much, even when she looks chill. While they yell and do night school time, they quit saying “no” to how they feel.

Until the big game comes. Until Atlas picks the ball, not her. Until all breaks.

Now he must pick what counts top: the good life he made, or the girl who flipped it.

Nyx would risk anything to save her dying sister. Even steal from a dragon. Even trust a prince who promised her a crown in exchange for the impossible.

But the prince lied. The dragon she touched bound itself to her soul and now she is trapped in the vampire kingdom with a king who has waited centuries for her return. King Caelan remembers everything. The love she destroyed and the great war she started. The lives she burned to ash with the very dragon now living inside her.

She remembers nothing.

He wants her to suffer for crimes she cannot recall. She wants to survive long enough to save her sister. But the bond between them refuses to stay buried and the dragon has its own plans. When she turns twenty and her fae powers awaken, Nyx discovers the truth is far more twisted than centuries of hatred.

The prince who sent her was the one who destroyed her family. The king who hates her saved the only person she loves. And the past life she cannot remember might be the key to stopping another war.

This time she will not run. This time she will burn the world herself if that is what it takes.

The day the IVF succeeded was when I realized Michael had deceived me all along.
He had only used me as a surrogate for my sister.
When I confronted him, he tested me, forcing me to kill someone. "Afraid to pull the trigger? Doesn't seem like my kind of woman," he sneered.
I tried to run, but he caught me.
He kept me locked away, forced me to eat foods I was allergic to until I needed my stomach pumped, and chained me to the bed while he went off with her.
I cried until I had no tears left—and finally learned how to hold a gun.

I ran from the monster who sold me to the highest bidder. I didn’t know I was running straight into the arms of another.

For eight months, I buried my past in the quiet suburbs, pretending to be an ordinary woman. I almost believed I had escaped the blood-soaked empire I was born into. Then Kaelith Vespero, the ruthless Don of the Vespero Syndicate and my father's deadliest enemy, dragged me back into the underworld.
To him, I'm not a woman. I'm leverage. A weapon forged from my father's bloodline. A bargaining chip worth using against my father's empire.
But wars don't always go according to plan.

The longer I'm trapped in Kael's world of blood, betrayal, and ruthless ambition, the more his carefully laid plans begin to collapse. The hostage he intended to use becomes the one weakness he never saw coming.

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

I hid in my best friend's closet to catch my fiancé cheating.
Through the gap in the door, I saw them on the bed. Tessa was blindfolded, wrists tied to the headboard with silk scarves. Callum's hands wrapped around her throat—some kind of breath play, I guessed.
Then her moaning turned to choking.
Her body convulsed. Her bound hands clawed at nothing. Her legs kicked against the mattress.
Then stopped.
Callum released her throat. Checked her pulse. Sighed.
And lit a cigarette.
He sat there scrolling his phone next to her body. No panic. No CPR. No 911.
Like this wasn't his first time watching someone die.
I bit my hand to keep from screaming. Blood seeped across the floor toward my bare feet.
Then he walked toward the closet.
I escaped that night. Barely. Ran three floors up to my neighbor's apartment—Dr. Neve Ashton, a trauma therapist. Beautiful. Warm. The kind of woman who made you feel safe just by existing.
She pulled me inside, locked the door, handed me tea.
"I called the police," she said. "They're on their way."
An hour passed. No sirens.
I looked at her. She smiled.

The night before the SAT, I brought homemade pastries from our bakery to share with the whole class.

The next day, over thirty students collapsed at the testing center. The exam was voided.

I became the target of everyone's rage. My family fell apart. I ended up in a detention cell.

The internet tore me apart. My classmate Lainey Prescott went on camera sobbing, saying all she wanted was for me to own up to what I did.

While I was in detention, I found out my mom had a mental breakdown and jumped off the overpass outside of town.

That same night, I went into the river too. The water was freezing.

When I open my eyes, Lainey is right there. She's holding that same sheet of paper with everyone's signatures, smiling like nothing's wrong, eyes just as calculating as I remember.

I'm back.

And this time, I'm not making anything for anyone.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, I received a bouquet of red roses from my husband, Gabriel.

The problem was, I was severely allergic to roses — something I'd told him countless times.

"Same order number, two deliveries," the delivery man said casually, glancing at his clipboard.

My blood ran cold.

The man who'd claimed he had to work late — who couldn't even spare me a simple "Happy anniversary" — was at that very moment holding another woman in his arms. Nine hundred and ninety-nine roses. A designer handbag. Diamond jewelry. And on his face, a tender smile I hadn't seen once in five years of marriage.

For him, I had given up everything. I'd gone from being the pampered darling of the Rivers family to a wife crammed into a tiny apartment, comparing prices across three different grocery stores just to stretch every dollar. I'd filed down every sharp edge I had. Swallowed every last ounce of my pride.

And yet here he was — while I was still carrying his child — lavishing the very best of everything on someone else.

Gabriel, you dare betray me?

Then that CEO seat? Consider it gone.

A once-formidable heiress, dulled and diminished by love, was about to reclaim everything she'd lost. The masks were coming off.

And the reckoning was just beginning.

“My husband is back. We’re breaking up.”

I slid a bank card loaded with one million dollars across the table to Leon, convinced it was nothing more than the end of a simple arrangement.

Three years ago, my husband, William Grant, disappeared on our wedding day, leaving me to become the laughingstock of Oakland. While everyone believed he was dead, I sacrificed everything to save the collapsing Grant family and keep their empire alive. Then he returned—with a pregnant mistress on his arm—and had the audacity to demand that I take care of the woman carrying his child.

That was the moment I decided our marriage was over.

What I never expected was that the male escort I had been keeping for the past three years wasn't an escort at all.

Leon was actually Roderick Harris—the mysterious billionaire behind the Harris Group, the most powerful and untouchable business empire in Oakland.

And just hours before discovering the truth, I had handed this ruthless business tycoon a one-million-dollar breakup fee... and told him never to contact me again.

While my cheating husband believed I would lose everything without him, and everyone waited to watch me fall, the man I had cast aside stepped back into my life, his dark eyes locking onto mine with dangerous intensity.

“Violette... what makes you think you're the one who gets to decide when this is over?”

What if waking up as a Greek princess meant becoming a sacrifice to the most brutal god?

Jill Adelaide, an Oscar-nominated actress, never believed in fate—until she woke up in the body of Portia, the most beautiful princess of Sparta.

Her new life comes with a death sentence: she is betrothed to Ares, the God of War. To the world, he is a bloodthirsty monster. To her, he is infuriatingly handsome, possessive, and impossibly tempting.

But Ares is hiding secrets behind his piercing gaze. A mysterious prophecy binds them, and a hidden rebellion threatens to tear Olympus apart. As Jill navigates a world of demigods, monsters, and divine treachery, she must decide if she's merely a pawn in the gods' games—or the one woman who can tame the heart of the God of War.

He craves her soul. She needs his trust. But in a world where gods never fall in love, falling for Ares might be the deadliest risk of all...

This is my story of how to lose a mob boss in ten days.

I have a
I’ve been arranged to marry a monster.

Run away? Good idea. Tried that. Didn’t work.
Because in my family, my father makes the rules.
And he says this wedding is happening .

But he still has a soft spot for me, his last remaining daughter.
So he offers me a deal.
Take ten days.
Get to know Sasha.
See if you change your mind.

Yeah, right.
Sasha Ozerov is a beast in Brioni.
He’s ruthless, flawless, utterly unconcerned with mortals like me.
All he wants is what our marriage would bring
My family’s power and the city in the palm of his hand.

But maybe, if I can make him back out of the deal…
I’ll keep my freedom.
So I set out to do everything I can to drive him crazy.

I have ten days to make my husband hate me.
What happens if I start to love him instead?

Freya's POV

Cold raindrops pelted my face, mixing with the stinging pain on my cheeks. I couldn't tell if it was rain or tears.

The black Bentley's windows blocked out the noise from outside, but they couldn't block the chill radiating from the man in the back seat.

Blake Jenkins held an unlit cigar between his fingers, his eyes as cold as ice.

When his gaze swept over me, there wasn't a trace of warmth—only deep-seated hatred.

"Freya Stewart, remember your place."

His voice was low and hoarse, each word drilling clearly into my ears.

"Starting today, you're no longer the adopted daughter the Jenkins family doted on. Now you're just a nanny, a servant to wait on Lena."

My body trembled violently, my fingers clutching desperately at the hem of my clothes.

I lifted my head, eyes red and rimmed with tears, my voice shaking uncontrollably: "Blake, you went through all this trouble to find me just to make me a nanny for you and Lena Johnson? Why should I? What happened back then..."

"Shut up!" Blake cut me off sharply, crushing the cigar hard into the ashtray.

"You still dare bring up what happened back then? If it weren't for you, how would my parents have died so horribly? I almost didn't survive either! If it weren't for your gambling-addicted father, how would Lena have ended up disabled, stuck in a wheelchair for life!"

After the crash, my husband, Darius, lost his ability to speak. The trauma to his cervical spine left him unable to even lift a finger.
The doctors said his only remaining way to communicate was to nod, or to shake his head.
Sitting by his hospital bed, I finally asked the question that had been eating away at me for three months.
"When the crash happened... were you on your way to see your mistress?"
Darius stared dead at me. Then, slowly, he nodded.

A seventeen years old Sera Calix was never meant to set a foot in Virelade Academy, the country's most prestigious elite all boys school. But a paperwork error gave her a chance to escape a life of serving the masters and she'll do anything to hold onto it. Even if it means disguising herself as a boy!.

The plan was to keep her head down, graduate and disappear but the problem was Kael Ashbourne, her new roommate, her worst nightmare and on top of that he's the son of the president, the same man where her mom works for.

As secrets build, Sera struggles to survive a world that was built to shut her out. But the biggest danger wasn't being caught but it's the way Kael looks at her like he already knows she's lying.

She's living a lie...
And only one person can expose her... Kael Ashbourne!

The idea came from Cora.
She ran into the kitchen while I was making dinner, wrapped both arms around my waist, and looked up at me.
"Mommy, can we go to Grandma Ellen's? Just us two? Just us girls?"
"Why?" I asked.
She thought about it, very serious. "Because every time I wake up and you're not home, I miss you. Even when Daddy's there, it's different." A pause. "Grandma Ellen probably misses you just as much as I do."
Reid was leaning in the doorway. He smiled at me—that easy, certain smile—and said, "She's not wrong. You've been running on empty for months. Take the trip. I've got everything covered."
The flights were booked before I finished washing the dishes.
I should have noticed how fast that was.
The call I made the night before we flew home changed everything. I thought I'd hung up.
I hadn't.

"No strings attached, woman! You just have to become my girlfriend for four months," he spat to her face. ***Nathaniel Greene, formidable and invincible man of war. He is a CEO of a very famous company. He is rumoured to be a gay, blamed and threatened, that he had to look for a girlfriend.
Not a real girlfriend because of his dislike to all girls calling them all fake, and unfortunately, even his mother was fake with plastic surgery. He had to hire a girlfriend just to shut the mouth of all the rumors and paparazzi of he being a gay.
And there we have her, Cheyenne Gemflord, a young lady who had been looking for a job not related to killing, prostitution and trafficking, took the job as his girlfriend with a deal of 'no strings attached' in their fake relationship' for four months. As the employer, what would he do to her? As the employee, what would she do to him? How would they end up? Follow me to the story world.

On my wedding night, I discovered the man in my bed wasn't my husband.
It was his twin brother—the one the family had exiled.
In my previous life, I exposed them in a rage.
My cheating husband came back, smashed my head open, and threw me into the ocean to be fed to the sharks.
But this time, reborn with a second chance, I cupped the face of the man in front of me—the face identical to my husband's—and slowly untied my wedding dress.
"Since he personally delivered you to my bed, then from now on... you're the husband."
This time, I'm going to raise up the loyal stand-in, and take everything from that bastard.

What is fate? Waking up three days after you rejected your fated mates in front of the entire school, with the memories of your husband's betrayal still burning in your chest? Or finding out that the only way to save your empire is to compete for love on national television—against the man who murdered you?

Make your pick.

Odessa Montgomery died at thirty—cheated on, poisoned, and blown to pieces by the husband she trusted. Then she opened her eyes at twenty-one, three days after the mating gala where she publicly rejected the De Luca triplets. The rejection is still fresh. The whole school is still talking. And Damien Gracias, her charming hockey-star boyfriend, has no idea she remembers every lie he ever told her.

She dumps him. Publicly. Brutally. But freedom comes at a cost. Her grandfather's will is clear: find a mate or lose the Montgomery empire. With Damien out and the De Luca triplets—her humiliated fated mates—lurking in her past, her options are nothing.

Then comes Moonlit Bonds, a televised competition where unmated shifters compete for love and a life-changing prize. Win, and her inheritance is hers. Lose, and lose everything.

There's just one problem. Damien and his true mate, Sarah, have joined the show, hoping to legitimize their bond on camera. And the De Luca triplets are also contestants—three alphas she rejected, two who bullied her, and one who has never stopped watching.

Now Odessa is trapped in a villa with cameras in every corner, a public audience that votes on her fate, and enemies who want her dead.

She came to win.

She might just find revenge.

But falling for the enemy? That was never part of the plan.

For three years, I genuinely believed I was the luckiest woman in the world.

Until I hit play on that video.

The moment the screen lit up, my perfect reality shattered into a million jagged pieces.

The woman writhing on the bed was Amanda—the sweet, innocent girl we had both grown up with.

And the hand tracing the curve of her bare skin? It wore the platinum wedding band I had personally slipped onto Louis’s finger.

"I missed you so much..."

"You drive me fucking crazy, baby..."

Hearing my own husband's signature sweet nothings whispered to my childhood best friend gutted me completely.

Our entire social circle constantly praised us as the golden couple. But beneath the glossy surface, who could have guessed this flawless marriage was built on a mountain of sick lies?

Well, if Louis was such a brilliant actor, I figured it was time to give him a show of my own.

I was going to rip off his mask and show the entire world exactly what kind of monster my "perfect husband" truly was.

I once loved Ryan deeply and helped him become the Alpha, only to be rewarded with chains in a dungeon and the mocking laughter of him and his mistress.

Fate gave me a second chance—I woke up reborn on the morning of the mate selection ceremony. There he was, still ordering me around in front of everyone, expecting me to play the obedient servant.

Everyone tried to convince me that Ryan, the man who killed me, is the "right choice."

Yet I chose Connor—the man feared by the entire clan, the one who will bring ruin to the clan for the sake of his one true love.

This time, I refuse to be the stepping stone on Ryan's climb to power.

I'm going to make everyone see who truly holds the reins.

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

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

But the guilt ate me alive until depression took hold.

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

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

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

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

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

For another woman.

I pull out my phone and call my father.

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

Clare, a room service staff met a rich businessman named Michael. Both of them gets attracted to each other and spent a sexy romantic full of lust journey to New Zealand. During the journey, Michael feels falling for her and wants more time with Clare and asks her to go with him. Which made Clare reveal her worse past secrets which can cause trouble for both of them in the future. But Michael assured her past will not come in between and they can have a good time together. Clare agrees and the problem started after Michael's relatives and friends come to know about Clare's past. How they still manage to stay in love, stay together is the story you will know next.

On my wedding day, instead of the romantic photo montage, I played a live video feed from the bridal suite.

The guests gasped. The screen didn't show our childhood photos. It showed my fiancé, Benjamin, pressing a woman in a white dress against the vanity.
It was my bridesmaid. My cousin. Mia.

"Benjamin, tell me," Mia giggled, wrapping her legs around his waist. "Do I look better in this white dress, or does your boring, frigid fiancée look better in her gown?"

The audio boomed through the silent ballroom.
Benjamin's voice was thick with lust. "She's a mannequin. You're my addiction. Why don't we do it right here? While she waits for me at the altar?"

My mother-in-law screamed. My father threw a glass.
But I stood there, calm. Cold.
I watched as Benjamin on the screen frantically unzipped Mia's dress, his hands roaming over her body, completely forgetting the woman waiting for him outside.

Benjamin rushed into the ballroom, realizing the silence was too heavy. He looked up at the giant screen, his face draining of color.
"Amelia! No! Turn it off! It's not what it looks like!"

I picked up the microphone.
"You're right, Benjamin. It's not what it looks like. It's exactly what it is."
I threw a folder of evidence—bank transfers, hotel receipts, printed texts—into his face.
"Mia graduated this year. You've been funding her for four. We've been together for five."

I tore off my veil and dropped it on the floor.
"The wedding is off. You two deserve each other."

I got dragged online by one of my lead devs.

He claimed my "Incubation Project" was a gilded cage—a trap to exploit the team and steal their personal IPs.

The truth?

I funded it out of my own pocket.

Selected candidates would get a $50,000 no-strings-attached seed fund, plus full Ivy League tuition reimbursement. It was 100% voluntary, with zero penalties for opting out.

Since the internet decided I was a toxic capitalist monopolizing their creativity, I gave him exactly what he wanted. I fired off a company-wide memo:

[To protect your creative freedom from capitalist exploitation, the $50,000 Incubation Fund is permanently abolished, effective immediately.]

[As an alternative, the monthly education allowance for all employees is now a $15 reimbursement for basic coding courses.]

The moment the memo dropped, the employees who were counting on that $50k to pay off student loans or change their lives completely lost it.

Now, they're swarming right outside my glass office door, eyes red, begging me to reinstate the program.

~A Night For A Dime, Cash For My Body, My Dignity For Survival

Annabelle Sinclair never believed there is any good left in the world, she's a pessimist who would rather be alone than be with any other, with a heart cold as ice, a face beautiful as Cinderella guys would love to get one taste of her, and she took it to her advantage.

I came home early from a business trip and overheard the woman Joseph always called his “poor stepmother” clinging to him in his office, begging for a kiss. Her swollen belly carried his child.
“When do I get to stop pretending to be your stepmother?” Susan whined.
Joseph’s cold laugh stripped away the last of my dignity. “Soon. Once I drain Emma’s company dry, she’ll be useless.”
I used to think Joseph was my salvation.
After his father died and his pregnant stepmother had nowhere to go, I ignored my family’s objections and brought them both into my home. I poured every resource I had into helping him rise.
I even became pregnant with his child.
Only then did I realize I had never really been his wife.
I was only the stepping stone they used to climb into wealth.
That night, Susan staged a miscarriage.
And Joseph, his face twisted with rage, locked me—pregnant and bleeding—inside a freezing basement.
“A vicious woman like you doesn’t deserve a child.”

Lysander’s ex-girlfriend, Evangeline, suggested a hiking trip. Out of obligation to me as his fiancée, he brought me along.
We got lost in the woods and trespassed onto the territory of his half-brother, Orion.
When Orion pointed a gun at us and forced him to choose—
In my past life, he chose me.
As a result, Evangeline was sold to a rival, Matthias, and was tortured to death. I spent the rest of my life bearing the full weight of Lysander’s hatred.
In the third year of our marriage, I lay in a hospital bed after a miscarriage. He stood coldly beside me and said, "Now you know how it feels to lose the love of your life."
Reborn into this life, as Orion’s gun points at me and Evangeline once again, I make the choice for him.
I’m leaving the chance to survive to his true love.

I grew up being my father’s prisoner, didn’t know the outside world. Not in the way I wanted, I was tired of doing only your wishes and living only in my own home. What I most desire is to be free, to live and to love without limits.
And I did, as soon as I met him.
Jordan, it was different and at first glance it won me, it became my salvation, and my redemption. He was much more than I imagined, was the love of my life, but what we did not imagine, however, was that because of intrigues involving our families in the past, our love would be put to the test and thus, we would be separated without knowing for sure what fate reserved us.

I bought a handsome, aloof incubus from a clearance sale online to be my live-in maid.
For a week, he was perfect. Then he started fainting, his skin burning with a fever no amount of rest could fix. Panicked that I’d somehow overworked my best employee, I called the 24/7 Aphrodisiac (companyI bought him from) helpline.

Ma’am, our incubus models have a demonic lineage and you have got a high-output model. They have near-infinite stamina. They don't get 'feverish' from vacuuming. But... why did you have him doing 'housework'?"
"Because the house was dirty?"
The agent suddenly chuckled. "Ah, I see. Everyone has their own fantasies and kinks. Roleplay is very popular. But tell me, according to the log, when was the last time Xanthos received physical intimacy?"
"Huh?"
"Physical intimacy," the agent repeated. "Love, spoiling, skin-to-skin contact. If a male incubus doesn't get intimacy, his internal energy stagnates. They fall sick. Male models are much higher maintenance than females; they need constant affection to stay healthy."
My blood ran cold. "Affection? I bought him to mop the floors!"
"Ma'am," the agent's voice dropped. "You are on Aphrodisiac. We are the world's leading provider of supernatural escorts. Did you... did you not read the site description?"

Turns out, I hadn’t bought a demonic domestic servant.
I’d accidentally purchased a high-maintenance supernatural escort.
And apparently, if I didn’t start showing my “maid” some affection soon, he would die and I would be jailed for abusing my maid.

After I retired, I was willing to do the dirtiest work at a small auto repair shop—just to give my sick daughter an ordinary childhood.
I endured my mother’s insults, my eldest brother’s wage cuts, my younger brother’s extortion.
But they actually joined forces to steal my daughter’s life-saving money for gambling, then sold me into an illegal mine to pay off their debts.
When the iron chain locked around my wrist, when my daughter cried in despair, the killing intent that had slept in my blood for three years finally woke up completely.
They had no idea I was once the iron-blooded God of War—commander of a million troops, the name that made enemy nations tremble.

[Warning: This story contains sexual content, power imbalance, obsessive behavior, and psychological manipulation. It may also include themes of non-consent, emotional abuse, and mature romantic situations. Reader discretion is strongly advised.]

"Do you really think you can defy me and get away unscathed?”
When Elena fails her promotion test at Moonbridge Academy, she turns to Professor Charles for a second chance. But he doesn’t give mercy, he makes her beg on her knees, this is no ordinary teacher. One night changes everything, and Charles becomes dangerously obsessed, showing Elena just how far he will go to have her… even if it means destroying anyone or anything in his way.

My husband Eric couldn't speak after a car accident three years ago. Three years of silence. Not one word.

To pay for his rehab, I worked four jobs at once—worked until I was coughing up blood, until I collapsed. Winter nights, Leo and I huddled under one threadbare blanket. When my son spiked a fever and I had no money for medicine, I stayed up all night pressing wet rags to his burning forehead.

Eric? His only communication was cold texts, ordering me around. When Leo reached for a hug, he'd push him away like our son didn't exist.

I endured it all. Because deep down, I believed the accident was my fault.

Until that night.

I was hauling equipment at Selena's concert—Selena, the pop star everyone knew—when a mystery guest in a mask stepped on stage. They sang together, voices blending like they'd done this a thousand times.

That voice. That lightning-shaped scar on his elbow.

My "mute" husband of three years.

I followed him backstage. Through the door, I heard Selena's laugh: "Congrats, Eric. Your mute act is almost over—you won the bet."

Three years of sacrifice.

All of it just a game. A bet with his first love.

When they shoved me into the flames, I fought through the blinding pain to call my brother, Ethan Bennett. Fire licked at my skin, twisting my vision, but the call finally went through.

"What is it now?" He sounded distracted, like he was checking off a guest list.

"Ethan, please, help—" My voice was shattered, choked by the searing heat.

"Can't you just give it a rest for one single day?" he snapped, cutting me off. "Selina and I are getting married this weekend. If you pull another stunt, I swear I'll—"

The call died right as the flames swallowed me whole.

Agony consumed every nerve before my eyes closed for good, his unfinished threat still echoing in my ears.

But the good news is, Ethan... you don't have to swear anymore. Because I was dead.

"You have two months to live." The doctor's death sentence was still ringing in my ears when I found the receipt in his pocket.

[Four Seasons Hotel. Romance Suite. Check-in: 3:00 PM.]

3:00 PM. The exact moment I was begging the doctor for painkillers, Alexander was in a hotel bed with another woman.

I looked at him, sleeping soundly beside me. I had loved this man for five years, sold everything to help him succeed. Now, in the final countdown of my life, he gave me the most fatal blow.

"I'm exhausted from meetings," he had lied, smelling of Santal 33 and another woman's sex.

I clenched the receipt until my nails dug into my flesh. I wouldn't tell him about the cancer.

I would use whatever time I had left to make him regret ever being born.

My girlfriend told me she was part of a social experiment. Her task was to get close to a target, and if she quit, she’d owe a crushing penalty.

So she kept canceling on me, staying out all night, and letting another man hold her—then came home in tears and said she had no choice.

I believed her for three years.

What she never knew was that I was the hidden heir to a billion-dollar family empire. While we were together, I was under a private family test and forbidden to reveal who I really was.

The day that test ended, I took back my name.

The first thing I did wasn’t return to the boardroom. I went straight to the lab behind her so-called experiment.

The man in charge turned the screen toward me. “We never had any massive penalty. The contract is clear. She could have quit at any time.”

Three years. No forced mission. No trap she couldn’t escape.

Every line she crossed, she chose to cross herself.

I didn’t confront her. I just took my things, ended the relationship, and walked away.

She thought I was just angry.

She had no idea that after reclaiming my identity, the first thing I did was uncover every lie she had ever told me.

As a regular student, I never expected to fit into the world of trust fund kids. But this real estate heiress reached out to me, said she'd show me how the other half lives, even promised to introduce me to New England's most powerful heir.

I thought she'd be my friend. Thought she actually cared. I even fell for him.

Until she framed me for stealing confidential school files. Until he said, "Just a scholarship kid. No one's gonna miss her." That's when I understood. I was never more than their toy.

They tore up my textbooks, stuffed dead rats in my locker, spent six months tormenting me online and off. My mother couldn't take the vicious comments. Her heart gave out. And me? After I completely broke down, they drove me to the coastal cliffs.

Ice-cold water flooded my nose and mouth. Suffocation dragged me down into despair. I hate myself for being weak. Hate them for their arrogance. Hate this rotten system that treats people like me as disposable.

But when I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the night she pushed me toward him.

This time, I won't be fooled.

My daughter died on her fifth birthday.
Her first real wish—the first one she was old enough to make herself—was to go to the beach with Daddy.
Gideon promised he would take her.
She waited for him all day. She was still asking for him when she took her last breath.
He never came.
I brought her ashes to the beach she'd always dreamed of. Let her finally see the ocean.
That's when I heard it—a woman's moan, low and breathy, coming from behind the rocks.
Then his voice. Then his name on her lips.
"Between me and Lily, who do you love more?"
"You. Obviously."
He was fucking his mistress on our daughter's dream beach—while I stood there holding her ashes.
When I finally confronted them, I didn't get an apology. I got a slap across the face.
And when his mistress caught my eye and smiled, I realized something.
She knew exactly when my daughter would die.

My husband had been traveling a lot lately. Intuition told me he was cheating.
I kept quiet. For his birthday, I gifted him AirPods—secretly linked to my backup Apple ID.
At 10:00 p.m., his "Find My" location wasn't heading to the airport. It had stopped at a decade-abandoned lumber yard.
I floored it, obsessed with catching them in bed.
But when I arrived, I only found a corpse.

I got paid to test-sleep an heiress's fiancé.
One problem: he's my boss.
Bigger problem: I've been catfishing him online for six months—as his fiancée.
Now I'm pregnant. And he just called my real name.

I was hired to steal a billion-dollar serum.

Instead, I ended up protecting its creator.

Katherine Hawk.

The beautiful CEO who trusts no one.

Now mercenaries, spies, and killers are flooding into Los Angeles for what she created.

Bad news for them.

Because I'm Ghost.

And protecting people is much easier than killing them.

I was falsely accused of killing my sister. My husband personally sent me to prison. Three years later, he picked me up, and that very night he stripped off my clothes and fucked me brutally.

He said, "The child your sister and I had together has a heart condition. You have to give birth to a baby to save him. This is what you owe your sister!"

"Mommy, I don't need a daddy. Having you is enough."

When I heard my daughter say those words, I nearly broke down in tears.

Five years ago, an accident left me pregnant with twins. My father seized everything my mother had left behind and threw me out of the house. After I gave birth, he told me my son had died, leaving only my daughter Luna by my side.

For Luna's sake, I was forced to marry a man I'd never met—a husband in a vegetative state—and spent three years in France.

Three years later, I returned to Bay Harbor, only to be betrayed by my own father once again. While fleeing, I stumbled by mistake into the penthouse suite of a luxury hotel, where I spent the night with a mysterious man confined to a wheelchair.

The next morning, I left in a panic, convinced it was just another accident in my chaotic life.

Until later, when I took a job with the wealthy Stone family and met a quiet, withdrawn little boy named Cal—a child who seemed forgotten by the entire world.

I don't know why, but the moment I saw him, my heart ached inexplicably.

And at the same time, the man I had "taken advantage of" that night began closing in on the truth, determined to find me...

To stop the merfolk from being slaughtered, I went ashore to seduce the boy I grew up with — Lucian Voss, now one of the world's top scientists.
He still had feelings for me. He kept me in his bed for seven days and seven nights, refusing to let go.
I woke from the haze of pleasure to a pair of pliers prying the scales off my back.
Lucian watched me arch in agony, his expression ice-cold.
"Mermaid scales can repair genetic defects. You don't mind sharing a few, do you?"
"After all, what your kind owes me is worth far more than a handful of scales."
Two years. For two years I watched him marry another woman.
He held my kind's lives over my head and forbade me to leave. Every few days, he'd pry the scales from my spine, grind them into powder, and feed them to his new wife Vivienne to strengthen her body.
He shackled my ankles and ordered me to stay up all night washing his bedsheets. I had to kneel outside their bedroom door, motionless, listening to them together until dawn.
When Vivienne got pregnant, she started complaining about the color of the scale powder.
"Honey, these last few have been so dull. Is she running out?"
Lucian glanced at me.
The look on his face — he was counting. Calculating how many scales I had left.
He hated me to the bone, yet every time I nearly passed out from the pain, he was the one who pulled me off the floor. Forced medicine down my throat, fingers clamped around my jaw until I swallowed.
"You're counting on the fact that I still care about you. So tell me — where are my parents?"
I stayed silent and let the contradiction hang there.
It wouldn't matter soon. I wouldn't have to keep that secret much longer.
A mermaid who stays on land for three years without returning to the sea will die. No exceptions.
And I had three days left.