3015 Book(s) Related to my bully quarterback does not remember me

I died on the night of my eighteenth graduation party, pushed off a rooftop by the two people I trusted most.

In my past life, I was the ultimate fool.

When my two childhood friends—both heirs to top elite families—decided to throw away their futures, I panicked.

They actually wanted to reject their admission offers from Harvard and Yale.

All to follow Lily, a charity case from the slums, to a literal no-name trade school called Sunny Valley Vocational Academy.

I begged them to stop.

I even used my family's connections to try and get Lily into a legitimate university.

But Lily wept in front of them, claiming my money insulted her dignity, and that I was just jealous of their "pure love."

Liam and Noah completely lost their minds.

That night, they cornered me on the roof.

"Vivian, you killed Lily. Go to hell!"

As it turned out, Lily went to that trash school alone and committed suicide.

They blamed me entirely for her death, nursing that grudge until they finally pushed me into the abyss.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day we were supposed to lock in our college choices.

This time, count me out.

When my husband's eight-year-old "nephew" Noah was diagnosed with acute leukemia, the whole family begged for my help.

They needed my six-year-old daughter, Molly—the only perfect match.

Against my instincts as a head nurse, I agreed.

But the second Molly's stem cells were harvested, their gratitude vanished.

To avoid paying for my daughter’s mandatory sterile recovery room, Noah's mother live-streamed a crying fit in my lobby, accusing me of medical extortion. My husband, Grant, stood by in utter silence.

Without the isolation bed, my baby girl contracted a severe infection and died. My mother-in-law simply sneered outside the ICU, "Dead is dead. Better than wasting more money."

Three months later, Noah relapses.

Now, my phone is blowing up. The same people who watched my daughter suffocate in her own fluids are desperately begging me to use my hospital registry access to save him again.

Standing by Molly’s tiny headstone, I look down at the confidential DNA report I pulled from the hospital database.

They think I don’t know Noah is actually Grant's illegitimate son. They think I'll just hang up and cry.

Instead, I swipe to answer the call. It's time to make them pay.

To protect my older sister's piano championship, my own brother crushed all ten of my fingers.
To win my sister's favor, my fiancé hired someone to kick the baby out of me.
After surviving a fire that nearly killed me, I finally woke up.
And when I returned, I blasted the hard proof of their affair and their schemes all over the internet. As I watched them lose their minds, lose everything, and drop to their knees begging for mercy, I let out a cold laugh, turned around, and claimed the top of the world!

I had the gift of beast-speech, and beasts never lied to me.
When my sister, Valora, brought me a wild berry tart, a forest finch shrieked, "Poison!" In my past life, I believed it. I flipped the tray, cursed her, and was thrown into the dungeon like a madwoman. In this life, I did the opposite. I ate it. I vomited blood, and my spirit wolf died instantly.
When it was time to marry, a raven warned me that my Alpha fiancé was a "disfigured madman." In my past life, I broke the engagement and married a Beta, only to be tortured to death by him and his mistress. In this life, I insisted on marrying the Alpha. But on my wedding night, a blood-soaked, disfigured monster was waiting for me.
When my mother-in-law, Liora, coughed up blood in front of everyone, a nightingale cried, "Give her White Dittany for the poison!" In my past life, I force-fed her the herb, and she bled from her eyes and died. In this life, I stopped anyone from giving her the herb. But that night, she died anyway.
Listen to them, and I die. Ignore them, and I still die.
Then, I opened my eyes. I had been reborn, back to the exact moment everything went wrong...

In my last life, my mother-in-law locked me in the attic, and my wife openly cheated on me with the neighbor. Even when I was dying of terminal cancer, they bled me dry until my very last breath! Now that I've been reborn, the extreme-heat apocalypse is just around the corner. In this life, I'm living for myself. I spend every last cent of my savings stockpiling three years' worth of supplies and building a heat-proof survival villa! Now I can sit back and watch my mother-in-law's family struggle to survive in the deadly heat. Beg on their knees for my forgiveness? No! I will never forgive them!

On my birthday, I was dragged up to the attic and assaulted by several men.
I called my parents, brother, and boyfriend for help, but they all thought I was seeking attention and ruining my sister Sophie's celebration.
"Mia, stop it. We're busy preparing for Sophie's party. If you want attention, find another way."
This was the hundredth time they'd let me down.
But there won't be a hundred and first.
Because I'm already dead.

My downstairs neighbor tagged me in the building group chat at ten p.m.
His wife just had a pup, he said. Pups need moonlight, he said. So starting tonight, my private moon terrace belongs to his family.
He'd even pay me rent. Ten dollars a month.
For the terrace of a three-million-dollar penthouse.
When I said no, he reminded me he wasn't just my neighbor. He's my supervisor at the Calloway Group, and my probation review sits in his hands. Hand over the door code, or I'd never survive at that company.
He kept saying it. I can crush you at the Calloway Group.
Funny.
My mother owns the Calloway Group.
I was going to let him dig his own grave quietly. Then his family broke into my home, walked up to the one thing on that terrace worth half a million dollars—
And smashed it.

The day before spring break, Cole Bennett asks me, red in the face, if he can borrow my empty place up in the hills for one night.

I figure he's planning a birthday party for me, so I don't think twice about handing over the code to the estate.

I've already decided that night is when I'll tell him who I really am.

Eight o'clock on my birthday, I push open the brass doors of the estate, worth millions by themselves.

Music blasts through the great room. The place is packed with people from school, all of them craning their necks, gushing about how gorgeous the house is.

I hold back a grin, ready to go find him and see what he's got planned.

Then I see her in the middle of the crowd, everyone crowding around her, glasses raised.

Sloane Bishop.

Five years in hell, my beloved and best friend joined hands to push me into the abyss. The savior I trusted was actually a deadly fraud. Reborn from despair, Vito came through the light. I tore apart the scumbag and the evil woman, settled all debts, broke free from the shadow, stepped into the light, and lived the rest of my life only for myself.

My husband's mistress sent me a video to rub it in, claiming she had just beaten my "pathetic, begging mother" bloody and kicked her down the stairs.
I froze, glancing up at my actual mother sitting right across from me, quietly sipping her coffee.
Bewildered, I zoomed in on the video.
When I made out the scar on the wrist of the woman lying in the pool of blood, a cold sweat broke out over my body. I frantically called my husband.
But he interrupted my plea with extreme impatience: "Shut up! Roxy was right to teach her a lesson. She was just taking out the trash for me!"
Since he insisted on indulging his precious mistress's death wish...
I wonder if he'll still be able to say she was right to teach her a lesson when he sees his own grandmother's corpse.

My dad made me a smoothie every morning for six months. I thought it was love.
It was a muscle relaxant.
He'd been slipping just enough into my drink to make my fingers tremble at full draw — just enough to cost me first place at every major competition. Not enough to kill me. Just enough to let Laurel beat me.
Laurel. His mistress's daughter. The girl he bought custom diamond jewelry while giving me clearance-rack gear for my birthday. The girl he wanted to drop into my family, my home, and my spot on the podium.
I found the proof. Stopped drinking his smoothies. Clawed my way back to number one.
Then, two days before the National Youth Archery Trials — the one competition that decides everything — he picked up a steel rod and swung it at my right arm.
My drawing arm.
The bone cracked. Doctors said three months minimum. My coach couldn't look me in the eye. Every scout, every scholarship, every dream I'd bled for over three years — gone in one swing from the man who was supposed to protect me.
Trials start tomorrow morning. And I can't hold a bow.

One of my employees went online and dragged me, claiming I'm making them sacrifice their health for a paycheck and forcing everyone to work over Thanksgiving.

Here's what actually happened. My company gives nine days off for Thanksgiving. Volunteer to work overtime, get triple pay, with a $500 daily meal stipend and a $5,000 bonus. No one gets penalized for not working.

The whole internet's tearing into me for making employees sell their lives for cash. So I give her exactly what she wants and send out a company-wide notice:

To protect employee mental health, the building gets locked and the power gets cut over Thanksgiving. No one is allowed to work for any reason. Anyone who does gets fired.

The minute that email goes out, the employees who were counting on overtime to pay their mortgages lose it. Now they're all crowded outside the building, begging me to open the doors.

To win back his one true love, my husband sent me, pregnant and vulnerable, straight into the clutches of a rival mob's dungeon.
I was torn apart by vicious dogs, a brutal end for both me and my unborn child.
After death, my spirit drifted back home, only to hear him coldly chuckle, "Let her learn her lesson; she won't come back until she admits she was wrong."
It wasn't until a mangled, rotting body was dumped at his feet, and he saw the blood-soaked wedding ring on its finger, that this heartless mob boss finally snapped...

"Are you always this damn sensitive?" my husband snapped, his hands lingering on his ex’s waist.
I stood there, holding our 5th-anniversary cake and my pregnancy secret. He canceled our romantic dinner just to comfort her.
So, I threw the cake away. Next, I'll throw him away.

Married to the head of the Valenti family for five years. Kidnapped on our anniversary. Pregnant a month later.
Five paternity tests said the baby wasn't his. My husband got a vasectomy and swore he'd raise the child as his own.
I believed him.
Then came the therapy. The drugs. Nightmares where I was pinned down by multiple men, so real I could feel their hands hours after waking. I scrubbed my skin raw. Tried to end it six times.
He saved me every time. Held my hand. Told me no one would ever hurt me again.
Until the night I heard him laughing about it in his study.
The kidnapping was staged. The nightmares were chemicals. The DNA reports were forged. All of it — designed by my own husband to protect another woman.
Now I have a recording, a divorce agreement, and a very small box of ashes.
He's marrying her next week. I'll make sure he gets my wedding gift on time.

For nine years, I lived as my twin sister’s replacement Luna. I raised her pup as if she were my own. I treated that man as my fated mate. What I got in return was the Pack that unanimously decided I was the monster who “killed Edna”, and the sinner Ann swore should go to hell.
At Ann’s birthday banquet, I accidentally knocked over a framed photo. Ann shoved me in front of a room full of Alphas and elders, drenching me in red wine, smiling as she said I wasn’t worthy of touching anything of the House.
I thought that if I endured nine years, I could finally leave. Then Eric suddenly changed his mind.
Ann stuffed the corpse of the little bird I’d been raising into a gift box and threatened me with a sweet smile. “You’re the next.”
When I dragged my suitcase to the door, she shifted to wolf in front of everyone, slammed me to the ground, her fangs pressed against my throat.
What they didn’t expect was that my real backer had returned, the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack, my biological father, David.

Five years, I bled for Dario. Took a bullet for him. Cleaned up his dirtiest books. Drank myself into the ER just to keep his bosses sweet.
Then he slid divorce papers across the table and told me to sign. His mistress was pregnant; the family needed a "proper" heir, and I was in the way. So I signed—and let him strip me of everything I'd built.
Three hours later, a rival crew ran his car off the bridge. He survived. But he will never father a child again.
Now he's pouring a fortune he can't spare into his mistress's baby, showing off his "heir" to every boss in New York. He thinks his bloodline is finally safe.
He has no idea whose child he's really raising. And I'm the only one who does.

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.

In my last life, when the apocalypse hit, I forced more than fifty young tenants in the Silver Bay Apartments into a single fighting unit: sealed doors, rationing, rotating watches, quarantine—I bought us thirty days of safety with iron rules.
But when rescue was finally near, they dumped all their hunger and fear on me. My ex, Claire, and the gym rat Mason stirred up the crowd, beat me until I couldn’t stand, and locked me outside the door to the rooftop—leaving the horde to close in.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day before everything began.
This time, I won’t step up. I won’t save anyone. I’ll hide what I need to survive—and watch them destroy the building themselves.

I used to be the Blackwells' best killer. For him, I walked away from that life and became his wife. I even gave him a daughter.

I thought it was redemption. Turns out, it was the start of something worse.

Three years ago, during that shootout at the docks, his first love showed up with his bastard son. When the rival family put guns to both kids' heads, he didn't hesitate. He chose to save her son.

My daughter burned in the explosion.

That was the day the man I loved for ten years died. What's left is just my sworn enemy.

“I reject you! I will never accept you as my Luna!”
The force of his rejection struck me like a physical blow, shattering my soul. Just hours ago, these same lips had whispered sweet promises against my skin. These same hands had touched me with reverence. Now, Alpha Finn Foster looked at me as if I were something rotten—something despised. Something he hated with every fiber of his being.
“Alaric Blackstone’s daughter,”he spat the words like venom.

“You deceived me.”

My mate—the man the Moon Goddess had destined for me, the man who had held me in his arms just a night before—now glared at me as if I were a curse upon his existence. All because I was the daughter of his enemy.Rejected for my bloodline, I was forced to confront a harsh truth: the man who once held me tenderly now looked at me with hatred—even though I carried his child. Marked as the shameful Omega daughter of an Alpha, I had thought the mate bond would be my salvation. Instead, it became my curse.
Forced into an arranged marriage by my father as a mere bargaining chip, I made the only choice that could save me: to escape the torment and leave behind those who betrayed me. Years later, when I finally found peace, my mate—the one who rejected me—returned, begging for forgiveness.
But after everything he put me through, can I truly forgive him? Can I give him a second chance?

“The daughter of Alaric Blackstone. How dare you deceive me?”

Rejected for my bloodline, I faced a harsh truth: the man who once held me tenderly now looked at me with hatred. Marked as the shameful Omega daughter of an Alpha, I thought the mate bond was my salvation—only to find it was my curse.

Forced into marriage by my father as a bargaining chip, I made a decision to escape the torment and leave behind those who betrayed me. Years later, when I finally found peace, my mate returned, begging for forgiveness. However, after enduring all the pain he caused me, can I truly forgive him?

Matthew only ever saw me as his body to use for pleasure. Every time he touched me, he was looking through me, longing for another woman—his one true love.
I was just a stand-in, a shadow for three long years. When he finally announced his engagement, he cast me aside without a second thought. I was kidnapped, framed, and publicly humiliated, yet he watched it all with cold, indifferent eyes.
My heart died completely. I hid my positive pregnancy test and vanished without a trace. Only then did he panic, abandoning his pride to chase after me: “Eve, I’m not getting married. I only want you.”

In my past life, just one day before the national evaluation camp that would make or break his career, my hockey-prodigy best friend faked an illness. He was ready to throw away his entire future just to go party in Chicago with a cheerleader.

Thinking I was doing him a favor, I stepped in. I tipped off his coach, saved his career.

Years later, he became a multimillion-dollar superstar. His way of thanking me? Framing me with doctored charity records and sending me to federal prison. He even smiled as he delivered the final, crushing blow:

"I planned that crash on the icy road, Kassia. Your parents' lives were just the price you had to pay for sticking your nose where it didn't belong."

Now, my eyes snap open to the deafening cheers of our high school hockey arena.

Sitting right next to me, that same cheerleader is eagerly plotting how to corner him after the game.

I am a hero. The saint's husband.
A country boy chosen by the temple.
I fight, I fight, I fight.
All for the saint, for the temple.
But it wasn't until I was drained of blood and dying on the altar that I finally heard clearly what the saint and her childhood sweetheart were saying:
"If you become a hero and marry the saint, you'll have to surrender your soul to the temple. I don't want you to lose your soul."
"Then let's just find some country boy to be the hero. It won't matter if he dies."
Oh, so that's how it is.
You should have said so earlier.
I can defeat the Demon Lord just fine without the saint.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the wedding ceremony.
This time, someone else should be on the altar.

In my last life, for the spy I executed, she framed me for treason and injected me with the zombie virus herself.

I died in a dungeon—by the hand of the one I trusted most.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back before it all began.

This time I didn’t interfere. I watched coldly as she got scratched, handed the only dose of serum to the spy, and as the gates swung open and he finally showed his true face.

At last she believed me, kneeling in the dirt, begging for forgiveness.

I looked into her eyes as they clouded over. “I warned you in my last life. You didn’t believe me.”

This life, every blade she wanted for me—lands on her instead.

“Marry me, and I’ll help you destroy everyone who hurt you,” he said in a deep voice, sending chills down my spine.

Betrayed by her husband and best friend, stripped of the life she worked so hard to protect, and left for dead, Elaine Ferguson wakes up to a world turned against her.

Enter Zayn Von Richter, a ruthless and devastatingly powerful billionaire who offers her a chance at revenge on the condition that she marries him for a year.

But Zayn may not be who he appears to be, and as their connection intensifies, the lines between pretence and reality begin to fade, threatening to unravel everything Elaine has fought to reclaim.

Not long after I transferred to this school, I became the bullies’ favorite target.
They didn’t like how quiet I was or how pale I looked, so they casually slapped me with a nickname: “vampire.”
It started with shoves in the hallway and jeers in the classroom, escalated to messing with my drink, then stuffing trash into my locker.
They treated my silence as permission and wrapped every provocation in the same excuse: “Just a joke.”
Until that night, when humiliation wasn’t enough. They lured me into a tiny storage room behind the auditorium—locked the door, killed the lights, set up a fixed camera—ready to strap me to a chair and film an “execution” video that would make sure I could never hold my head up at this school again.
What they didn’t know was that the nickname wasn’t a joke. It was the one time they got the truth right.
I really am a vampire.

My wife, the most ruthless godmother in New York's underworld, wants a divorce.
The reason? Her male subordinate's old wound has flared up, and he only has three months to live. She wants to accompany him on his final journey as his wife.
To make room for her new lover, she not only doesn't go home, but even allows him to frame me for a fabricated death sentence.
In the dimly lit underground interrogation room, the backlash from deviating from the proper procedures caused my organs to rapidly fail, and I developed a persistent high fever.
Through the iron bars, she looked at my disfigured body, not recognizing me, but coldly raising her gun and giving the order to execute me herself.
She proudly believed that by clearing the way, she could go back and have a grand wedding with the man who was feigning illness.
Until the last shot, when my breathing stopped completely, she saw the old scar on the back of my left hand—the scar from the severed finger I had left for her.
That once arrogant godmother instantly broke down in tears beside my corpse.

I can't breathe. Every touch, every kiss from Tristan set my body on fire, drowning me in a sensation I shouldn't have wanted—especially not that night.
"You're like a sister to me."
Those were the actual words that broke the camel's back.
Not after what just happened. Not after the hot, breathless, soul-shaking night we spent tangled in each other's arms.
I knew from the beginning that Tristan Hayes was a line I shouldn't cross.
He wasn't just anyone, he was my brother's best friend. The man I spent years secretly wanting.
But that night... we were broken. We had just buried our parents. And the grief was too heavy, too real...so I begged him to touch me.
To make me forget. To fill the silence that death left behind.
And he did. He held me like I was something fragile.
Kissed me like I was the only thing he needed to breathe.
Then left me bleeding with six words that burned deeper than rejection ever could.
So, I ran. Away from everything that cost me pain.
Now, five years later, I'm back.
Fresh from rejecting the mate who abused me. Still carrying the scars of a pup I never got to hold.
And the man waiting for me at the airport isn't my brother.
It's Tristan.
And he's not the guy I left behind.
He's a biker.
An Alpha.
And when he looked at me, I knew there was no where else to run to.

Seraphina died betrayed. She perished in flames—poisoned by Darius, the fated mate she'd foolishly loved. Her childhood sweetheart, who sacrificed her only to save his mistress.
Reborn five years earlier, Seraphina vows: Never again. No more submissions. No more suffering his cruelty. This time, she'll rewrite her destiny - then she meets Kairos.
The Untamed Alpha King who loathes the mate bond after his own betrayal. Her second-chance mate - a bond that will kill her if she rejects it.
Now, caught between Kairos' relentless pursuit and Darius' desperate attempts to reclaim her, Seraphina faces an impossible choice:
Drown the world in vengeance... or risk her shattered heart on the mate who could either heal her scars or destroy her completely?

Blood pooled beneath Eloise's head just moments after she discovered the truth about her husband. The man she built her world around wanted nothing more than to destroy her. He stole everything, her company, her pride, her future, and left her to die. But as the darkness closed in on her, fate offered a second chance.

**

Now she is back, with bloodstained memories and a thirst for revenge. Desperate and broken, she made a deal with the devil, a man powerful enough to hand her the weapons.

But his help comes at a price.

To be owned by him. For four months. A strict deal with no strings or feelings attached. But nothing about him is simple. He's infuriating, intoxicating, and every second with him chips away at her control.

What starts as business quickly spirals into a dangerous game of possession, secrets, and desire. And when hearts get involved, the real cost becomes something more than she bargained for.

He’s the last man she should trust… and the only one who makes her lose control.

No matter how far I ran, no matter how deep I hid, I knew one truth… He would always find me.

Knock. Knock.

I jolted up from my sitting position, with my heart hammering in my chest.

Just as I was saying... He had found me.

But by the time he broke down the rickety door, I was already standing and facing him with a knife to my wrist.

I'd rather die than return home with him as his mate.


Eve thought she and her mother had successfully escaped her abusive father by getting married to the former Alpha of a pack far away from where they lived.

But all her hopes were cut short the moment she realized her new stepbrother, Alpha Saint, who was also the current Alpha of her new pack, was the same man she had a one-night stand with eight months ago, along with his best friend, Beta Kyrie. And on that fateful night, she had stolen very valuable items from these men.

Hated and controlled by her stepbrother, who saw her as nothing but a thieving whore, Eve decided to find solace in Kyrie, who was already falling madly in love with her. But Saint would rather fight his bestfriend to the death than let him anywhere close to the woman he was secretly obsessed with from the day he set eyes on her.

All hell was let loose when Eve turned twenty-one and found out that not only was she mated to the man she loved and desired – Kyrie. She was also mated to her overly possessive stepbrother, whom she dreaded with her life.


TRIGGER WARNING!

This is a dark romance novel, which might contain some unsettling themes rated 18+. It is everything dark and forbidden. Please, be guided.

I caught my fiancé in bed with my sister, so I married his sociopath older brother to save my legacy, and now I'm his favorite toy to break.
"I should have refused." I shook my head, my eyes sweeping towards the silver eyed devil standing before me, with no ounce of guilt or remorse in his eyes. "I should have never married you."
"That hurts my feeling." That was a cruel joke, because we both know that he doesn't even have feelings to begin with.
"But there isn't any man who could love you like I do; not even Thorne."
I paused when his long, cold index finger trailed my face stopping at my lips, and his eyes met mine again. They were dark… with lust.
"Fuck you." I muttered with hate and anger dripping in my voice.
"I believe even right now, all you want is me." He mused and he wasn't wrong, because he never said I couldn't leave. Yet, I found myself staying, and hoping he would change.
"And all that completes me is you." His lips cam crashing on mine.


Eden Montclair is your everyday surgeon who tries to get by every surgery without complications, she has created high hopes for herself that she would inherit her grandmother's hospital.
She soon finds out that the hospital was dying and they might need to merger it with the biggest healthcare foundation in the country, only on the condition that her little sister, Evangeline marries the heir to the foundation. Eden's life soon falls into chaos when Evangeline ran away to avoid that fate, and now Eden is in the front line to marry the Heir of the Adler Foundation. Theron Adler. A cold-blooded and precise surgeon, who doesn't have many interests in life, and a diagnosed psychopath.
That's not all, he is also the older brother of her ex-boyfriend and they both had history together.

“I should have refused.” I shook my head, my eyes sweeping towards the silver eyed devil standing before me, with no ounce of guilt or remorse in his eyes. “I should have never married you.”
“That hurts my feeling.” That was a cruel joke, because we both know that he doesn’t even have feelings to begin with. “But there isn’t any man who could love you like I do; not even Thorne.”
I paused when his long, cold index finger trailed my face stopping at my lips, and his eyes met mine again.
They were dark… with lust.
“Fuck you.” I muttered with hate and anger dripping in my voice.
“I believe even right now, all you want is me.” He mused and he wasn’t wrong, because he never said I couldn’t leave. Yet, I found myself staying, and hoping he would change. “And all that completes me is you.”
I shut my eyes as he slammed his lips against mine.


Eden Montclair is your everyday surgeon who tries to get by every surgery without complications, she has created high hopes for herself that she would inherit her grandmother’s hospital.
She soon finds out that the hospital was dying and they might need to merger it with the biggest healthcare foundation in the country, only on the condition that her little sister, Evangeline marries the heir to the foundation.
Eden’s life soon falls into chaos when Evangeline ran away to avoid that fate, and now Eden is in the front line to marry the Heir of the Adler Foundation.
Theron Adler.
A cold-blooded and precise surgeon, who doesn’t have many interests in life, and a diagnosed psychopath.
That’s not all, he is also the elder brother of her ex-boyfriend and they both had history together.

“Sign the contract. Be my incubator. And I will let you live.”
That was the deal I made with the tyrant named Damon Lexton.
I was his medicine. His prisoner. He did not love me—only the rare blood in my veins that kept him alive. When I died in the fire, he did not mourn his wife. He mourned the loss of his cure.
Five years later, I returned from the dead with a new face and a heart of stone, ready to watch him suffer.
Then my five-year-old son walked into his office.
“Hey, Old Man. Are you the one who made my mom cry?”
Damon stared at the child—the son he once called a bastard. For the first time, the tyrant fell to his knees.
He cornered me against the wall, his eyes burning with madness and obsession.
“You can run, Anna. But you and our son belong to me. I used to need your blood to live. Now I need your heartbeat to breathe.”

"Stop calling me your son, Mrs. Carter…
I was never your son."

Adrian Blackwood whispered in his deep, rough voice as he trapped Evelyn against his strong body:
"I want you on your knees in front of me… I want to make you taste sin until you scream only my name."

Evelyn Carter, an elegant divorced woman and a mother at forty five, spent years running from her obsessive ex husband, moving from place to place until she finally settled in a new city as a university professor.
But Adrian, her new neighbor and her son’s best friend, a twenty year old man, came to burn every rule she ever had.

Every filthy word he whispers in her ear, every night he takes control of her mature body… pulls her deeper into a storm of forbidden pleasure and intoxicating shame.

He does not just want her in his bed.
He wants to own her.
Behind his wild desire and growing obsession lies a dark secret and a revenge plan built over years.

In a game filled with lies, control, forbidden heat, and real danger…
Will Evelyn surrender to the man she should never want?
Or will she realize that the monster who burns her every night will destroy her completely?

Warning 18+: explicit scenes, taboo, obsession, dark themes, power imbalance.

Dema never expected her new job to end with a marriage proposal from her billionaire CEO.
But with the tabloids destroying his family's reputation, Rami needs a wife—fast.
One year, a quiet divorce, four million dollars. That's the deal.
Thrown into a world of luxury, scrutiny, and impossible expectations, Dema struggles to keep up while Rami treats their marriage like another business arrangement. Yet beneath his cold rules and perfect composure, something unspoken flickers between them.
Just when Dema begins to wonder if their pretend marriage is becoming something real, she overhears a late-night phone call that makes her blood run cold.
Because maybe she wasn't chosen.
Maybe she was used.
And maybe the deal was never the real trap.

AN AGE GAP, FORCED PROXIMITY, BLACK FLAG ROMANCE

Vincenzo Valentini is a man who sees the world as a business counter and human beings as merchandise.

The owner of an empire built upon corpses and submission, he is the reflection of pure perversity.

When fate places Andrew Thompson, the son of his greatest rival, into his hands, the plan was simple: use him, break him, and discard him like a toy that has lost its appeal.

What Vincenzo did not expect was that, beneath the youthful skin and the appearance of innocence, Andrew hid the same abyss as he did.

Vincenzo never wanted redemption. He never wanted someone to save him from his own darkness. He was seeking a mirror. And in Andrew, he found the partner who, upon seeing his blood-stained hands, does not recoil in terror, but trembles with desire.

In this perverse game, the "little toy" proves to be the perfect executioner. The mafia leader found someone who not only accepts his cruel side but cultivates it, feeding the monster Vincenzo has always been.

Where there should have been fear, lust emerged. Where there should have been hatred, a perverse loyalty was born. Andrew Thompson is the dark reflection of Vincenzo, the soldier the underworld did not see coming, and the man who proved that, for some, paradise only makes sense if it is in the middle of chaos.

Vincenzo opened the doors to his empire, but Andrew was the only one capable of invading his heart.

They are not heroes. They are hell on earth.

"You are mine," he said, crossing tenderly his arm around my body. I was speechless, I tried to feign he had no power over me but my body betrayed me.
Tighten on his chest, I felt relieved and appeased, I just wanted to rest and never get out of the room, until I heard a voice coming from nowhere waking me up from this nightmare.

Yes, It was a nightmare. How could I take pleasure wrapped in this man's arm?
He was the son of the murderer of my parents.
Even if my heart was claiming him, I should remember I had no place for such a feeling.

I would struggle with my being to piss this sentiment aside.
They would pay.
His father for killing my parents, and him for being the son of this swine.
He had to pay for his father's sins.
My mind had to overpower the emotion I felt

Betrayal has never struck so hard until that day I caught my fiancée and best friend cheating on me.

My world came crashing down beneath my feet, and I felt hopeless.

However, luck was on my side and I ended up having a one-night stand with a mysterious man.

Two months later, he showed up at my house with our marriage agreement and he turned out to be my ex-fiancée’s father.

Heartbroken and enraged with revenge, I acknowledged the marriage, desiring to make my ex-fiancée and my best friend pay for what they did to me.

Luckily, my ex-fiancée and best friend lives in the same house with us and revenge took a tremendous turn.

“Kaite, I hope you can give Lily and me your blessing.”

Terry held another girl’s hand in front of everyone, while I stood among the crowd like a complete stranger.

Three years ago, I was the one who stayed by his side when he was an unknown tennis player. I analyzed his matches, studied his opponents, and supported him through every setback.

I thought we would reach the top of the tennis world together.

But I never imagined that he would deny our past at his celebration party, turning me into everyone’s joke.

When both my love and my dream were taken away, I thought my life had reached its lowest point.

Until the man who once stood at the top of the tennis world appeared.

Percy—a tennis prodigy whose career was destroyed by rumors and betrayal.

He saw the truth hidden behind the numbers. He saw my hard work. He saw my worth.

When everyone wanted me gone from the tennis team, he was the one who stood beside me and said:

“Kaite, you don’t have to be afraid.”

To prove myself, I decided to stay.

I will show everyone that I am not just someone standing behind another person. I am a talented data analyst with my own place in the world of tennis.

And Percy is no longer the forgotten genius everyone abandoned.

But I don’t know why this man, who I just met, knows so much about me…

"What's your body count?" the most ruthless Alpha in the werewolf race growled, his massive hand suddenly gripping my throat so tightly my vision blurred.

We had been driving in complete silence since my father sold me to him as a peace offering. I was supposed to be his mate, but the cold, murderous look in his golden eyes told me I was nothing more than a prisoner.

"One rule you'd have to learn is never ever question me," Detlef hissed, his minty breath fanning my face. "Once I ask, you give an answer. How many men have touched you?"

Fear clawed at my heart. I tugged weakly at his iron grip. "Zero," I choked out, tears spilling over my lashes.

He didn't believe me. His eyes darkened with absolute fury. "Never lie to your Master," he spat, slamming me back against the leather seat.

He didn't know the truth. He didn't know that three years ago, I gave my innocence to a stranger in a hotel room. A stranger who disappeared the next morning.

But what terrified me most wasn't Detlef's wrath. It was the moment we arrived at his heavily guarded territory, and his Beta rushed to the car window, looking pale.

"Alpha," the Beta whispered. "Fernandez is here. The Alpha of the Phoenix Pack. He's crossed the border... and he says he's come to collect his woman."

My blood ran cold. Fernandez. The name of the man from three years ago. The deadliest enemy of the monster currently holding my throat.

Nora Williams was a fake celebrity influencer who built her reputation by wearing fake designer items online.

She was a minor celebrity in real life but a major one on the internet. Everyone believed she was a wealthy and privileged heiress; however, in reality, she struggled to make ends meet, barely able to pay her rent.

One fateful night, she encountered a powerful man, Leon Carruso, who saw through her fake image. Instead of exposing her, he offered to turn her fictional life into reality. "This perfect life that you want it so badly... I could make it happen in the blink of an eye, but there is one condition – you must marry me in return, Nora…”

“This life you promised me; why didn’t you warn me about it? Why didn’t you tell me it was you from back then? You tricked me into marrying you!”

“Well, let me explain…”

I was unwanted, unloved wolfless Luna,
When the world turned against me, my fated mate Damian included. I lost everything that used to matter.
But I gained something Unfathomable—my Lycan wolf, the last of my kind. Now I want more, the touch of another man that actually deserves me even when my mate refused breaking our mate bond.
Would I be granted this love?
What fate lies ahead for the trio of us?

In the extreme cold of the apocalypse, I was bound to the Seraphim's Flame, gaining access to the tycoon's bunker.
My good brother Luke was so jealous he went mad and killed me with a single blow.
Reborn, Luke stole the "Seraphic Flame" and, like throwing away trash, kicked another dark, ugly stone to my feet.
He didn't know—Redstone was a blood-sucking evil, while Blackstone was the true god-level talent.
When the deathly gale of minus seventy degrees swept across the world, I activated the [Dimensional Fortress] of infinite space.
Tons of munitions, mountains of supplies, overwhelming heavy firepower…
I will stand on the frozen wasteland and watch that bastard, step by step, become the human battery I need.

In my previous life, the apocalypse struck.
I fought desperately to protect the shelter, but she, overflowing with compassion, opened the door and let in infected people, causing the defenses to collapse completely and my only sister to die tragically.
Afterwards, she showed no remorse, instead turning around and currying favor with a warlord, enjoying privileges at the expense of her comrades. And I, in this betrayal, was devoured alive by a horde of zombies.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back three days before the tragedy.
Watching her once again attempt to morally blackmail everyone, and preparing to open that deadly door to demonstrate her "kindness," I threw her into the darkness.

At the engagement party, Adrian walked in with pregnant Celeste: "Sorry, the engagement is off."

"Why?" I stared at him intently.

"The baby is Adrian's," Celeste sobbed, "I can't let my child grow up without a father..."

"You're just an orphan with no money or connections," Adrian looked at me coldly, "You're not good enough for me."

Just when I was completely humiliated, butler Steven found me. "Miss Hayes, we've been searching for you for twenty-three years. You're the long-lost heiress of Hayes Corporation."

A week later at the family reunion banquet, Adrian knelt before me: "Iris, please give me another chance!"

"You can stay by my side," I looked down at him condescendingly, "but not as my boyfriend—as my servant."

But when Celeste accidentally miscarried, the truth shocked everyone...

In this prestigious North American university, I was just a lowly physical education teacher, working long hours and being bossed around.
No one knew that two years ago, I was a special forces legend, codenamed "Tyrant," who climbed to the top of the dark web, stepping over the corpses of countless enemies in the abyss of hell.
I thought I had washed the blood off my hands.
Until that day, the only ordinary female student I cared about was lured into a black market industrial park on the Balkan border, facing a butcher's chainsaw.
For five million dollars to save my life, I was willing to swallow all my pride and bow to the school's richest family.
But what I got in return was public humiliation and a beating from the powerful.
They laughed at me, calling me a weakling, saying my life was less than that of a lowly dog.
Watching the video showing only five hours left of life and death, I snapped the spine of the richest man's bodyguard with my bare hands, tearing apart the docile mask I had worn for two years.
Crossing half the globe to storm into a heavily guarded, lawless land?
It had been a long time since I'd stretched my muscles.
It seems the world has forgotten why this dark jungle, filled with warlords and evil, still cannot bear to hear my name!

I was reborn.
In my past life, for the sake of my childhood sweetheart Chiara, I rushed into a sea of fire to save her lover, but I was disfigured by strong acid. In return, I was rejected and abandoned by her, and ultimately died tragically on the street.
Reborn before the narcotics factory explosion, I coldly turned away from Chiara's pleas for help: "If it's true love, go in and die with her."
This time, I'm not a sycophant anymore; I'm going to make all those who betrayed me pay a bloody price.