1924 Book(s) Related to our vows were meant to be broken

Five years into my marriage, I took off my Donna necklace at the Rossi family’s New Year’s Eve banquet and Noah still thought I could never leave him.
He stood by the long table with his mistress, Amelia, and said in front of every capo, “Some people will never measure up to her. Not even close.”
I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I just turned and walked away. On my way out, my cousin Lucas, my fixer, handed me a cup of coffee.
Three days later, he brought me two pieces of news.
Amelia was four months pregnant. And Noah was trading family territory to get his bastard child recognized by the family.
“What are you going to do?” Lucas asked.
I stared out the window, thinking about the red lipstick stain on Noah’s shirt. Thinking about the smug look in his eyes when he told me, “I only helped her because I felt sorry for her.”
“Wait,” I said. “Wait until they think they’ve won.”
What Noah didn’t know was I was still holding one last trump card.

Betrayed to death by my own brother, I was reborn before the apocalypse descended.
He rushed to seize the god-tier [Copy] talent first, leaving the trash [Purification] talent for me.
He thought that with this talent, he'd have no worries and reign supreme in the apocalypse.
Meanwhile, I quietly closed the last door of my fortress.
He didn't know that his prized copying ability had a fatal flaw.

With one week left until the wedding, Henry Jones asked me to reschedule the date—for one simple reason:
“On our wedding day, I’m taking Ann to the hospital for her prenatal checkup.”
Ann is the widow of his brother Ethan. She’s also my half-sister. In that private room, they laughed at me for being “almost thirty and desperate to get married.”
Ann put on an innocent face. “If Rory is really in such a rush… I can reschedule my appointment.”
I wanted to break up, and Henry frowned as he lectured me:
“As her future sister-in-law, why do you have to fight her over this one day?”
I asked him, “Do you even remember what Friday is?”
He coaxed me softly: “One day earlier or later—what’s the difference?” I nodded and said “Fine,” thinking I could still swallow it.
Until I pressed my fingerprint to enter his office and overheard Ann questioning him about inheritance, and Henry answered under his breath, “It won’t come to that—I won’t let Rory get pregnant with my child.”
That was the moment I u

We’ve been married for five years. Then, she got pregnant with someone else's child.
In front of everyone, she said: "Ethan doesn't want this baby. You've always wanted one, right? Fine, take it and raise it."
In that moment, I finally understood: she wasn’t incapable of loving someone—she simply never saw me as a human being.
I took off my wedding ring, left it on the tray, and bought a one-way ticket to the North. My family said I wouldn't survive in the frozen North; she said that without her, I was nothing.
Three years later, she tracked me down using the GPS hidden inside that ring. She pushed open the door to my attic room, finding only a note I’d left: "Don't look for me. We're square."

At the family banquet, a power-hungry male special assistant projected a dimly lit bed photo onto the massive screen. He claimed he had slept with my wife—the heiress to the family—and demanded I walk away from the marriage with nothing.
While all the relatives were waiting for me to become the laughingstock, my eyes landed on a red rose burn scar in the corner of the photo. I couldn't help but laugh out loud.
He hadn't even turned on the bedside lamp. He had no idea that the woman he had just slept with was actually the wife of a psychopathic serial killer.

In their eyes, my wife Emma—an Ivy League tenured professor in biological sciences—is ruthless, rational, and obsessively clean.
For seven years, even when she washed her hands, she would only ever touch the right-side sink—hers.
Until that night at 3 a.m., when I pulled a strand of sandy-golden short curl—hair that belonged to neither of us—out of my men’s shower loofah.
And around the neck of a pre-med student named Lucas, I saw the antique silver cross my dying father left in my hands.
When I confronted her, my always-icy wife protected the little homewrecker, slapped me across the face, and called me a jealous, controlling chauvinist.
She thought I’d swallow it like a coward.
But she forgot: as a top cardiothoracic chief, the thing I do best is cutting out tumors.

At the Morello family’s Christmas dinner, I stood beside Vincent, waiting for him to announce our engagement.
Instead, in the very next second, he walked in holding a little boy and claimed him as his son.
And the woman he said he was going to marry? Scarlett Morello. The one he had always introduced as his “sister.”
The whole room erupted in applause. I stood there frozen, like a nail hammered into the floor.
Later, in his study, he took my hand and said, “Scarlett is dying. Late-stage breast cancer. She only has six months left. After she’s gone, I’ll marry you.”
But there was no guilt in his eyes. No love, either.
Then he told me to go to his villa that afternoon, to take care of the woman who was supposedly “dying.”
I opened the photo he sent me. Scarlett was lying in a hospital bed, pale-faced, an IV in the back of her hand.
A professional tennis player who had been playing in an exhibition match three weeks ago, and who had dropped three grand at Louis Vuitton on Fifth Avenue just five days ago.
But sure. She was “dying.”
At three in the morning, I was curled up by the front door of my apartment, crying so long I lost track of time.
Then my phone lit up. A text from an unknown number:
[Elena, I’m downstairs. When we were kids, you told me that once I controlled the docks on the East Coast, you’d marry me. The docks are mine now. Does that promise still stand?]
I pulled back the curtain and there he was. Ethan Vitale, my first love, leaning against the door of a black Cadillac, lifting a hand in a lazy wave.
Three years ago, when he left New York, he was only a Capo.
Now, he was the Don of the Vitale family.
He didn’t rush me. Didn’t pressure me to come downstairs.
He came for one reason only, to let me know he was back.
I wiped away my tears and texted back:
[It still stands.]
Because I wanted to see for myself just how long that woman could keep up her act.

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.

Kidnapped as a child, I was raised in the countryside. When I returned to my bankrupt biological family, everyone mocked me as a hillbilly. Even the fake heiress abandoned the family to marry into wealth.
But no one knew that I am actually the mysterious boss of the Dark Division!
I am a legendary doctor who can bring the dead back to life, a world-famous artist, and a top-tier fighter. I cured my paralyzed brother, saved my mother, and ruthlessly slapped my enemies in the face.
When the all-powerful CEO, Si Shenxing, cornered me against the wall, he smirked devilishly, 'You cured my father. Now, take responsibility for me.'
I sneered, 'Get in line.'

On my third anniversary, a stranger's text saved my life but shattered my perfect marriage. My husband is sleeping with my best friend, and my mother-in-law runs a criminal empire.
Trapped in a web of lies, I turn to a cold, powerful lawyer for revenge. I will fake a pregnancy, gather evidence, and destroy them all.
But who is the mysterious stranger guiding me? And what does the lawyer really want?

On the day he handed me the divorce papers to be with his first love, I found out I was pregnant. After three years of a loveless marriage, my heart was finally dead. I signed the papers, hid my baby bump, and vanished on a flight to France.
Everyone thought I was just a discarded wealthy wife, never knowing I had taken the most precious secret with me.
Months later, when he saw me heavily pregnant standing beside another man, the aloof CEO completely lost his composure. 'The child... is it mine?'
I smiled coldly. 'Sir, we are already divorced. This has nothing to do with you.'

I gave Ethan three years. He told his friends I was just a substitute for the woman he really loved. I cooked for him with a fever. I called him twenty-three times from the ER — he blocked every one because he was with her.

So I left my key on the counter and walked out.

He laughed. "She's getting married? I'll send a gift."

He had no idea who my fiancé was. Or who my family was.

So why, when the truth came out, was he the one on his knees?

For three years, Christina hid her identity as a billionaire heiress, believing she had found true love. Instead, she discovered she was nothing but a cheap stand-in for her scumbag boyfriend's first love. Faced with his arrogance and cruel humiliation, she dumped him without a second thought. The time for playing poor was over!

Returning to elite high society, she reclaims her mega-fortune and accepts a marriage alliance with Gabriel—the most powerful, ruthless billionaire CEO in Aurora City. Known to the world as a cold-blooded tyrant, this untouchable man has only one exception: her. He spoils her beyond measure.

When Christina’s true identity is finally exposed, her pathetic ex is paralyzed with regret, dropping to his knees to beg for a second chance.

Nestled safely in her powerful fiancé’s embrace, Christina looks down at her ex with a cold smirk. "Sorry, but trash like you isn't even qualified to step foot through my family's gates!"

I was the "fake" heiress, kicked out half an hour before my engagement. They thought I’d rot in a poor countryside town. Little did they know, my biological family was a dynasty of hidden billionaires, and I was a master art restorer and martial artist.
My ex-fiancé, the arrogant billionaire Gavin, suddenly broke his new engagement just to chase me.
Pinned against his car door under the rain, his eyes burned into mine. "Flora, will you give me a chance to be with you?"
I smirked, pushing him back. "Let's see if you can keep up."
But my glamorous new life took a dark turn when my cousin was kidnapped, and the ransom call came straight to me. The kidnapper knew my secret identity... but who is pulling the strings in the shadows?

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.

No one knew she was swapped at birth, doomed to be the family’s endless cash supply.
She died exhausted by their greed, yet woke up back to the fateful day of the unfair contract.
Reborn, she hides her cards well.
She will uncover all the fake heiress’s dark plots, retrieve her lost wealthy bloodline, and never let anyone drain her life again.

When the apocalypse struck, my brother Leo didn't hesitate to choose the offshore sanctuary.
In our past life, faced with a choice between a powerful inland warlord commanding a massive army and a leader clinging to a solitary island, Leo snatched up the first option.
But when a zombie horde overran the mainland and defenses collapsed, he fled to my island for refuge.
Jealous of how well I was surviving the end of the world, he and our parents knocked me unconscious in the dead of night and threw me into the ocean to drown.
Now that I've been reborn, Leo immediately took our parents to the maritime base, leaving the "dangerous" mainland to me.
He thinks the ocean is a natural barrier that guarantees his safety, that he can sit back and relax while the world burns.
But there's one thing he doesn't know.
Zombies aren't just static, mindless walking dead—they evolve.
And when they do, that offshore sanctuary will become a floating hell with no way out.

On our third anniversary, I planned to announce my pregnancy, only to find my husband expecting a child with another woman
"It’s just for an heir," he pleaded, trying to trap me in our marriage.
Heartbroken, I hid my secret, served him divorce papers, and vanished.
When I returned to the spotlight, I wasn't alone. Beside me stood the city’s most mysterious and powerful tycoon.
My ex, crazed with jealousy, pinned me against the wall. "You are mine! Come home!"
But the tycoon pulled me into his arms, his gaze icy. "Back off. She belongs to me now."
In this three-way battle for my heart, who will be the ultimate winner?

Abandoned by her adoptive family, she saw through false affection and cut off all past ties without hesitation.
She is the long-lost heiress of the top wealthy family, with countless mysterious hidden identities.
The most powerful man falls in love with her at first sight, and offers endless love and exclusive favor.

I am the adopted daughter of the Blackwell family.
The day they found their biological daughter and kicked me out, my birth parents found me, and I became the heiress of a top-tier billionaire family.
But none of them know that I am the sole apprentice of a legendary miracle doctor.
I am the founder of a famous aromatherapy brand.
My hacking skills might not be the world's best, but cracking a system is something I can do in minutes.
When my adoptive parents mocked me for being down and out, I just smiled.
Later, when they went bankrupt and begged for my help, I just smiled.
I also slept with Vincent, the head of the powerful and aloof Thorne family, treating him like a male model.
He initially suspected I was a spy sent by his rivals and pursued me aggressively.
Later, he hooked his arm around my waist and whispered seductively, "Claire, be my girl, won't you?"

She gave up her career for love, only to be betrayed, humiliated, and replaced by his first love. Heartbroken, she filed for divorce.
At the press, she publicly exposed his most embarrassing secret, shocking the whole world. Once a neglected wife, she returned as a top medical genius and watched him fall apart.
He begged for forgiveness, but she had already moved on—cold, proud, and free.

Avery lost everything the day her father betrayed the Silver-Ridge Pack.
Branded a traitor. Blamed for her sister's death. Sold to the very Alpha her father once betrayed.
Lucian Draveth is blind. Merciless. A monster whispered about in fear. A man who sees Avery as nothing more than a property.
But Avery refuses to submit.
"You want a chance, Avery? Fine. Let's play a game." His voice is calm.
"The main gate is half a mile through the forest. If you reach it and pass through before I lay a hand on you… you are free."
My breath hitches. "And if you catch me?"
"Then you stop fighting and come back. Run."
Five minutes. Half a mile. One blind Alpha hunting her through the dark.
Avery runs. Not because she believes she'll win but because she refuses to break.
The closer Avery gets to freedom, the more she realizes something is wrong. Lucian is hiding something far worse than cruelty.
And when Avery learns why he refuses to let her go, revenge stops being enough.
In a world where the Moon Goddess chooses mates, Avery must decide: destroy the monster or survive loving one.
Warning: Mature content. Dark romance themes.

For five years, Vivian sacrificed her brilliant scientific career to be the perfect wife to billionaire Dylan Hudson and a devoted mother to their son, Allen. Her reward? Her husband's cold indifference and her son's cruel rejection, both secretly manipulated by Dylan’s two-faced assistant, Hazel.

When her five-year-old son screams, "You're not my real mom! I want Hazel!", Vivian's heart finally shatters. She signs the divorce papers and walks away without looking back.

But Vivian isn't just a desperate housewife. She is the hidden heiress to the powerful Wilson family and a genius scientist. As she reclaims her empire and catches the eye of a devoted, even wealthier single father, Dylan realizes the massive mistake he made.

Now, her billionaire ex-husband and the son who pushed her away are on their knees, desperate to win her back. But Vivian only has one cold answer: "It's too late."

The day Elodie was diagnosed with late-stage cancer, she received intimate photos of her husband and his mistress.

Five years of marriage, and she had been nothing more than a presentable servant — her mother-in-law barked orders at will, her husband saved every tender moment for someone else, and even the money to treat her illness had to pass through layers of approval.

Finally, she slid the divorce papers across the table to him, picked up her luggage, and moved into a rented room. In her pocket: the cheapest painkillers she could find. On the bill: Initial Treatment Cost — $100,000.

No one knew she was sick. And no one remembered that this so-called "useless young madam" had once been a legendary prodigy at law school.

A light buried under dust for too long.

It was time to dig it back out.

On the same day Penelope learns she has cancer, she discovers her marriage was never real—Dominic used her as a shield for three years. But she's no victim. As legendary hacker "X" and secret founder of three tech companies, she quietly builds a quantum AI empire while battling her illness. The man who thought she had nothing is about to find out just how wrong he was.

After seven years of being an ignored wife and mother, she finally files for divorce.
She returns to her career as a top designer and shines brightly.
When her billionaire husband realizes what he lost, he begs her to come back.
But it’s too late—she’s already moved on.

My name is Ophelia. The day my adoptive family threw me out, I smiled and tossed their money in the trash.

No one knew I was "Dawn" — the legendary miracle healer every powerful family desperately sought. No one knew I was behind a billion-dollar fashion empire, or that I could make Wall Street tremble with a single trade. I hid everything behind an ordinary face.

My birth family turned out to be the wealthiest dynasty in the city. And my fiancé — the man I'd already met without knowing it — was Mason Smith, the man the whole city feared.

He took my hand, leaned close, and murmured: "Can you feel my heartbeat right now?"

I pressed my fingers to his chest and replied seriously: "Your heart rate is elevated, but perfectly healthy. No need to worry."

He paused — then smiled. The kind of smile that made my own heart do something I couldn't explain.

But as he kept getting closer to the truth... I wondered how much longer I could keep my last secret hidden.

Some masks were never meant to come off — but what happens when someone refuses to stop looking?

Eight years together. And all it took was one video to shatter everything.

My fiancé. My protégée. Tangled together — five days before our wedding.

"If my mother hadn't pressured me, I never would've agreed to marry her."

That was the moment she woke up. Lily. The woman I'd buried for eight years. Former top-ranked assassin on The Zenith Class — the one who single-handedly dismantled an entire criminal council.

I wanted to walk away clean.

Instead, I got dragged into a web of dirty money, a missing cargo ship worth two hundred million dollars, and a man who had no business knowing my secrets — yet somehow knew all of them.

He's shameless. Dangerous. Infuriating.

"Your body doesn't lie, Lily. Part of you wants to go back."

I told myself he meant nothing.

With a dying mother-in-law's last wish hanging over me, and enemies closing in from every side, I had one question left to answer —

After you see through every lie, every betrayal, every illusion you built your life on...

Who do you finally choose to live for?

After surviving three years of kidnapping, I finally escaped—only to find my boyfriend engaged to my younger sister.

My parents' reaction? "They are in love. As the older sister, you should step aside."
My ex's excuse? "Cordelia, you're the one I truly love."

"Go to hell," I sneered. I dumped him and walked away from the toxic Fox family forever.
Furious, he shouted behind me, "You'll regret this! Don't come crawling back!"

Oh, I didn't.

But when he finally came crawling back to me, he was in for a rude awakening. He didn't find me crying. Instead, he found me pinned against a wall, sharing a breathless, heated kiss with the most powerful, untouchable man in the city—his almighty uncle.

Seeing us, my ex lost his mind. "Cordelia! You said you loved me!" he roared in absolute jealousy.

With a wicked smile, I leaned against his uncle's chest and hooked my finger at my pathetic ex.

"Be a good boy," I smirked. "Call me Auntie."

For three years, I played the perfect, obedient girlfriend, only to hear Adam say I was just "bottled water" compared to his intoxicating ex. Fine. I packed my bags, dumped the scumbag, and returned to my true identity: the billionaire heiress of the Hart family.

I thought I was done with men, until my arranged marriage partner turned out to be Noah Stone—the cold, untouchable tycoon. In the dimly lit car, he gently swept the hair from my neck and whispered, "I'd trade everything I have now for her affection."

Now, Adam is begging on his knees, while Vivian tries to destroy me. But as Noah suddenly pulls me into a breathtaking, possessive kiss, I realize something dangerous... Why is this terrifyingly powerful billionaire so obsessed with me?

I gave my best friend my kidney and he fell in love with someone else.
He is not my boyfriend.
Even though I've seen his lips on mine, even though he gets jealous, even though he acts like he owns my heart—he has never asked me out.
I've loved him for as long as I can remember.
I know everything about him. I take care of him. I never forget his birthday, his habits, or the way he smiles when he thinks no one is watching.
When he was sick and needed a donor, I didn't hesitate.
I couldn't watch my best friend die. So I gave him my kidney.
I thought that meant something.
But he loves someone else now—someone new, someone who doesn't even love him back.
I can't confess.
If I lose him as my best friend, I lose everything.
So I stay silent. I suffer alone.
And I keep asking myself the one question I'm too afraid to say out loud, What if he has always loved me too?

When I woke up with a hangover, I found a handsome and naked stranger sleeping beside me.

I’m Tanya, a surrogate’s daughter, an omega with no wolf and no scent.
On my 18th birthday, when I planned to give my virginity to my boyfriend, I found him sleeping with my sister.
I went to the bar to get drunk, and accidentally had a one-night stand with the handsome stranger.
I thought he was just an ordinary werewolf, but they said he was Marco, the alpha prince and the most powerful Lycan in our kingdom.
‘You slut, you’re pregnant! Fortunately, Rick is kind enough to let you be his mistress and save you from shame.’ my stepmother said, tossing a pregnancy strip on the table.
Rick was an old pervert. No she-wolf could keep up with his sexual demand. No she-wolf could survive with him more than 1 year.
When I was in despair, Marco came to my rescue. He got down on one knee, took out a ring and said he would marry me.

I thought Marco married me because he loved me, but later I found that was not the truth…

Kiera Scott is a 21 years old single lady, she Lives alone since she graduated from high school. Sometimes her friends comes around to visit her. Luckily enough for her she's the only daughter of her family and very pampered. She's pretty... The perfect definition of beauty can be told alone by looking at her. She's loved by everyone and works in a very good company and paying one...loved by her colleagues..... But! The only problem is her Boss.

He's Tibby Wilf ...

Tibby Wilf is a sex freak, crazy, mean, extra arrogant... He hates being corrected... But Kiera keeps crushing on him.

her mom would always tell her her to quit her job since she has a boss as like him, but she keeps refusing cos she loves him but she never knew he was a sex addict.

He'd always scold her when she's wrong and not...till she got used to it


Kiera heard a female loud voice as she hurriedly ran to a room wondering who could that be
She doesn't wants to be seen by anyone cos her boss said so. if she by mistake let anyone see her in his house she'd lose her job.
panic took over as she ran in...just then Wilf walked out of the bathroom with towel around his waist
"you!!" he called as she turned back shocked to see her boss half naked.
"arrgh!" she screamed and shut her eyes
"what you doing here?" she asked
"I should ask you that!" he fired back as she opened her eyes
'gosh...so hot' she gasped inwardly
"I'm hiding... please" she whispered as she walked closer to him
"hey... stay back" he hurriedly said as she staggered back
"arrgh!" she screamed as he pushed her back but unfortunately... his towels fell of his waist.

The only sure thing in revenge is the beginning, the ending is uncertain. The truth can surprise you in ways you could never have imagined.

A sequel to His Booty Call.

In my past life, my best friend Isla was the one sacrificed to Blackstone Island. She was sent to fulfill the ancient covenant between humans and Shifters—to marry that cold-blooded Black Dragon Guard Captain, Sebastian.

The result? A tragedy.

Isla was tormented by Valerie, Sebastian’s childhood friend, who used the most despicable schemes to break her. And Sebastian? He remained an oblivious, arrogant statue for thirty years, watching Isla wither away like a rose drained of life. She spent her entire existence wilting in the shadows of his palace.

As for me, I followed my family’s orders and married an accountant named Ryan. But the warrior's blood of a martial arts clan runs through my veins, while Ryan was a spineless coward who loathed my "wildness." I found him calculating; he found me untameable. We divorced within two years, and I died alone and forgotten.

But the heavens have given me a second chance. I’ve been reborn!

The covenant between our races only demands a daughter of my family—it never specified which one. This time, I'm not letting Isla go to that hellhole. If a dragon needs a bride, he's getting me.

I’m the only person on Earth with a clinically proven antibody capable of neutralizing this rare deadly virus.
I caught the virus when I was six. Its mortality rate was staggeringly high, and everyone thought I’d never pull through. Against all odds, I recovered entirely on my own. By some strange twist of biology, my body made the world’s sole antibody that could fight this virus off.
Once I turned eighteen, I signed up to donate my serum as a volunteer.
For twenty years straight, rain or shine, I showed up to donate free of charge—107 separate donations in total. Each time, I pulled a gravely ill patient back from death’s brink.
I’m no saint living to save the whole world. Every last donation was done for my mother.
Back when I was six, my father’s infidelity drove my mother to take her own life. What happened was cruel beyond measure, completely unforgivable.
A fortune-teller once told me my mom’s lingering resentment ran far too deep. To free her trapped, wandering soul for good, a blood relative of hers had to finish exactly 108 acts of good deeds.
Twenty years in, only one deed remained. Just one more, and my mother’s spirit could finally rest in peace.
But when the hospital sent out an urgent emergency SOS this time around, I did something I’d never done in two decades.
I turned their request down flat.

I swear, I hate my husband.

At my birthday party, my husband whispered to his mistress in French that he missed her. His voice was low, but I heard it all—the black lingerie, the bit about how pregnancy makes you more sensitive. His French clients around us were laughing. He turned and put his arm around me, claiming he was just helping his clients come up with sweet nothings.

He doesn't know I understand every single word. Just like he doesn't know that inside my body, I'm carrying his other surprise. And his mistress—she's pregnant too. Two wombs, one secret.

Confrontation would be too cheap. Tears are worthless. I quietly started cataloging the hidden networks my father left behind, activating the Swiss accounts.

In seven days, Zoey Smith will cease to exist. And what will my husband's reaction be?

I clutched the diagnosis paper that read "Stage 4 Gastric Cancer," my knuckles turning white. For twenty-two years, no matter how bad things got, Ethan always said he could handle it. But this time, my call only reached his voicemail.

I still remember that snowy night when I was seventeen. Under that tree, he squeezed my hand and promised, "You don't have to be strong anymore. Just lean on me." He said he'd marry me once he became successful, vowed to protect me for a lifetime. I believed him—believed him so much that today I drove frantically to his recording studio, desperate to tell him about my diagnosis.

But the scene through the cracked door shattered every hope I had. The sight of him entangled with Victoria hurt worse than any diagnosis. Later, when he handed me divorce papers, I coughed blood into my tissue, and he didn't even glance my way.

How did the man who promised to protect me forever become the one pushing me into the abyss? I'm dying, and even my last shred of hope is being crushed. Is this really how it ends?

Bryan and I had been together for a year.

He was gentle, thoughtful. I had no reason not to trust him.

Until the night the typhoon hit.

He called. He said he, his mother, and his brother's family were outside my door, soaking wet. They just needed somewhere to stay for the night.

I walked to the door.

My hand reached for the doorknob.

That's when I saw her in the hallway mirror.

My future self.

Covered in blood. Clothes shredded.

She was screaming at me. "Don't open the door! They'll kill you!"

Five years ago, I pulled a dying man from the depths of the ocean.
His name was Silas. When he woke up, he looked me in the eye and swore he'd marry me, that he'd protect me for the rest of his life.
I believed him.
I hid it from my clan, shed my tail, and followed him to land. I bore him a daughter—Winnie. I kept myself locked away in a villa, out of sight from the world. No wedding. No ring. Even the mermaid scales on Winnie's legs had to be covered up with layers and layers of concealer.
Until that night at the banquet. Zoe and her goons pinned us both to the tile by the pool, scraping the scales off Winnie's legs with a knife, sneering that this "filth" was such an eyesore.
I stroked her mangled calf, desperate for Silas to come save us. But Zoe said Silas was her fiancé.
Silas? Her fiancé?
Then what the hell am I?

I had to claim Caleb tonight.

I had paid a six-figure premium to contract a high-level werewolf mate from the nation’s top "Fated Mates" agency. I had chosen him for his elite stats, the "absolute submission" guaranteed in his file, and most importantly, a face that could put any Hollywood A-lister to shame.

But over the last few months, things had completely derailed from my expectations.

He refused to let me touch him!

I have to figure out what's going on.

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

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

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

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

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

My family's company went bankrupt, and my father was critically ill.

I dropped out of school and worked multiple jobs every day.

Debt collectors beat me and broke my ribs, but I couldn't afford painkillers.

Every penny I earned went to expensive medicine, all to save my father.

Until I saw my father, who should have been bedridden on oxygen, holding a champagne glass at a hotel banquet hall.

His words pierced through, "Five years, the punishment she earned."

The bankruptcy was fiction. The illness, theater.

All orchestrated because his stepdaughter suffered from depression, and I was her entertainment.

When the doctor finally spoke to me, "Days. You have only days."

I laughed.

The dying one had never been my father.

It had always been me.

My husband and parents wanted me dead. All because my sister was "dying."

They shoved a divorce agreement and an experimental surgery consent form at me.

I was supposed to be her donor.

But they didn't know I was the one actually dying.

Three days ago, they told me I had terminal bone cancer.

One month to live.

So when they threatened me into some back-alley surgery, I smiled.

I was already dying anyway.

Sebastian is dead.

And I'm the prime suspect.

I thought Lucy was the only one on my side, but there's always panic in her eyes. Black stockings showing up in my closet, red marks on my wrists I can't explain, texts sent from my phone that I never wrote...

The evidence keeps piling up, choking me.

My memory's slipping, the same broken nightmares on repeat. Strange perfume, cruel words, and the name "Leah" that won't leave my head.

Who is lying? Who's pulling the strings?

I can't tell what's real anymore. All I know is everyone's lying to me.

I need to find who's behind this before it destroys me.

Four years ago, I left my boyfriend when he had nothing.

Now, he's a billionaire. And he's forcing me to marry him—just for revenge.

Every day it's a different girl. Now there's a pregnant influencer he flaunts in my face, destroying what's left of my dignity.

"Kneel and beg her, and I'll give you money." He holds another woman and smirks at me.

I don't cry. I don't scream. I just swallow the blood rising in my throat.

He doesn't know my brain tumor is terminal. I have thirty days left.

I've already signed the organ donation papers. I just want to die in peace.

I stopped loving him a long time ago.

My name is Ivy, and I’m 18. My best friend’s father, Sebastian Blackwood, a Harvard law professor, is mature, cold, and authoritative. He’s been the centerpiece of every fantasy I’ve had since puberty.

Those nights, I toss and turn under the covers, imagining his fingers slipping into my wet, hot va*na, imagining his cok thrusting into me hard, driving me to the edge of climax.

I know it’s wrong. He’s off-limits.

But every time he looks at me, those deep, piercing eyes seem to strip away my clothes, staring straight at my most secret places. My heart races out of control, my body burns with heat.

I don’t want to just be his “good girl.”

I want to be claimed by him, completely, destructively.

During this 30-day seaside vacation, I’ll make him see that I’m no longer a little girl.

My body is wet for him, my soul burns for him.

Sebastian, will you resist, or will you pin me down and fu*k me hard?

I'm the rightful fucking heir to the Sterling family fortune. My old man made me lay low, keep my head down, live like some regular broke college kid.
But there's this cunt in my dance crew. Walking around flashing her fake designer shit like she's hot shit, acting like she owns the fucking place.
And now she's got her eyes on my boyfriend.
To get close to him? She's telling everyone she's the Sterling family heiress.
Oh really? You're the Sterling heir?
Then who the fuck am I?

"Clyde, no—stop this right now. I only came to your class because Aaron recommended you to help me learn motorcycle riding for my job, not to get into something like this." On the open training field, as I struggled to balance the bike and keep it steady, my husband's old college roommate Clyde climbed on behind me to "correct" my form, his hands boldly cupping my large, soft breasts through my fitted top. The real problem hit when I felt his massive bulge pressing insistently against my backside, hard and unyielding, as he leaned in too close under the guise of instruction.