4835 Book(s) Related to my cheating mate regretted it when i chose someone else

Getting dumped by my boyfriend was humiliating. Falling for his uncle? That
might just ruin us all.
I spent two years loving Jamiel Vaughn.
Preston Academy’s hockey star. Everyone’s golden boy. And the boyfriend I
thought I’d spend far more than one winter with.
Then he dumped me with a text while I stood on the ice waiting for him.
We’re over.
That was it.
No explanation. No goodbye. Just two words that shattered everything I thought I
knew about us.
But Jamiel wasn’t the Vaughn who showed up for me that night.
His uncle was.
Calix Vaughn is older, dangerously attractive, completely off-limits—and the last
man I should be anywhere near after getting my heart broken by his nephew.
There’s just one tiny problem.
Calix wanted me first.
Before Jamiel. Before the relationship. Before two years passed with both of us
pretending there had never been something between us.
Jamiel may have been the one who got me first.
But now he’s thrown me away.
And Calix?
He’s done watching his nephew have the woman he wanted all along.

The novel contains explicit content, sex, and assault and is full of scenes that take the reader to the new heights of unquenchable pleasure with every page turned, so it's advised for 18+.

My co-wife's brothers walked to the room, and I just walked out of the bathroom, which startled me; the towel fell to the ground. Both of them walked towards me, eyes full of lust, as they both said, "Why compete with another woman over a man when we are ready to share, dominate, and make you ours?
"But..."
Before I could continue my sentence, Salvador touched my well-soaked flowery bud and whispered close to my ears, "Say that you don't want us as much as we want you."

Meet the intriguing story of Margaret Mathias. Finding herself at a beautiful wedding with Joshua Franks, she agreed to be a second wife to him despite knowing he was already married because the first wife was very welcoming. But what she didn't expect was to be treated less than a maid in her husband's house. She laid several complaints to her husband, but they fell on deaf ears, saying her co-wife is the queen of the house.
She was sexually starved, and she had had enough. She was ready to leave the house, but would she be able to leave when her co-wife's brothers came for a vacation? Would they be ready to share her, or would one of them want her for himself? Read and find out.

Dona McNair thought her biggest problem was figuring out how to talk to August (Augie) Reynolds, the dreamy new hockey captain she’s been crushing on from a distance. But that all changes the day she finds out he’s her stepbrother. Now trapped in a tangled family mess with a boy who barely looks her way, Dona’s quiet life suddenly feels like a crazy soap opera.

Augie has a lot of secrets, and so does his father. The more Dona learns, the deeper she falls for him and for the truth. Between rivalries on the ice, forbidden romance and a criminal past that won’t stay buried, Dona and Augie are forced to choose: walk away or fight side by side. Forbidden love was never part of the plan, but neither was falling for your stepbrother, while exposing his father’s crimes.

"You're my brother's biggest rival."

Turner smirked. "And?"

"And Liam would literally kill us."

"Then it's a good thing we're not actually dating."

Ezra Beckley only agrees to fake date hockey captain Turner Fisher to save himself from a campus-wide rumor disaster. The arrangement is simple: pretend to be boyfriends for three months, fix their reputations, and walk away.

No kissing.

No feelings.

And absolutely no telling Liam Beckley—Ezra's overprotective older brother and Turner's biggest rival. The plan should have been easy, till Turner starts looking at him like he's something worth choosing.

And suddenly, the fake relationship feels dangerously real.

“You are to marry the king, Rinoa.” Those words from my father changed my life.

Cillian was my world — the reason my sun set and the flowers bloomed. But our twisted fate was cruel and unfair.

On the verge of his death, I asked the Gods to trade places with him, to let me die in his stead.
I’m cursed to meet Cillian in every lifetime. In the last one, if he doesn’t remember me, I’ll turn into foam — fading away, forgotten, gone.

In my final life, he was my boss — arrogant, ruthless, and cold. But this time, I’m no longer the woman he once deserved.
I plan to live my life away from the chains of our forgotten love.
But fate is never kind. He needs me more than ever.

Should I risk it all again just to call him mine?
Should I set myself on fire only to feel his warmth?

Time was never my ally.
And I stand at the edge — torn between loving him again or finally being free.

Can our love endure the viciousness of history and time?
I have to choose… even if it means losing it all, or finally letting him go.

In her previous life, Emily Charles has endured the betrayal of her husband, the manipulative works of his evil adoptive sister and the harsh treatment of her in-laws. Everything warrants her family bankruptcy and her ultimately death.

Now re-given a second chance in life, Emily sworn to deal with those who wronged her and planned to see her enemies begging for mercy on their knees, but just as she continued with her plans, unknown to her, she captured the heart of unattainable man from her past who suddenly set his sight on her.

“You're such a wild fire, and I wondered why you ignored me before” he said in a low alluring voice that stirred up something strange in her.

“But this time, I must capture your heart whether you like it or not”

"Mr. Geal, we can't… please." Her voice trembled as his fingers traced her jaw and brushed against her lips.
Her breath came in short gasps as she whispered, "Please, you're betrothed."
His hands slid to her neck, his voice a dark growl. "It doesn't matter. You're mine anyway."
Before she could speak, his mouth claimed hers, sealing a truth neither of them could escape.
Olivia Macurry's only dream was to escape the stage lights and start over.
No more stripping. No more selling herself to survive. Just a normal job, a normal life.
But fate had other plans.
One night, a stranger offered fifteen thousand dollars for her time. She agreed—then ran before the night was over.
Now, that same man is her new boss.
Leonardo Geal. Cold. Powerful. Addictive. The man she tried to forget, but who never stopped thinking about her.
What began as obsession soon twisted into something darker.
Attraction became possession.
Possession became madness.
He's engaged to another, yet he can't stay away.
Lies, secrets, and betrayal push them to the edge, until desire becomes their most dangerous weapon.
Leonardo thrives in chaos. And even though he's betrothed, he belongs to her— Body, mind, and soul.

Surprisingly, he moved closer to me, and gently placed his hands on my chest. "See, I can feel your breathing! You are indeed scared!"
Sadly, my body was betraying me! I was angry that his touches made me shiver. "Alexander Gray is my enemy, and I must hate him! I need to detest him!" I kept telling myself.


Aria's life takes a dark turn when she's betrayed and murdered by her boyfriend, Adrian, a powerful werewolf. But death is not the end. Resurrected by a malevolent demon lord, Aria returns to the living world with a mission: seek vengeance on the one who wronged her.
But Aria's vengeance takes an unexpected twist when she encounters Alex, Adrian's twin brother. Mistaken identity leads her to plan his demise, but as secrets unravel, Aria finds herself falling for the very person she sought to destroy.

I was supposed to be the best man, but when the bride ran away, I was forced to walk down the aisle and marry the arrogant billionaire I despised the most.

The hall was breathtaking. White lilies, crystal chandeliers, and rows of expectant faces waiting for my sister. Instead, they got me. I walked down the aisle with a single flower, a smug grin on my face hiding the absolute panic tearing through my chest.

At the altar stood Rowan Hale. Always perfect. Always in control. Except right now, his hands were clenched into fists so tight his knuckles were white. He was furious.

By the time I reached him, his patience had evaporated. He grabbed my hand in a bone-crushing grip that almost made me swear in front of the priest.

"You sure took your time crawling up here," Rowan whispered, his voice low and dangerous. "Who do you think you are to keep me waiting?"

I managed a sickeningly bright smile. "I didn't know you were this eager to marry me."

I thought he would punch me. I wanted him to. We had been rivals for years, hating each other's guts in the entertainment industry. But instead, his cool mask fell back into place. He slid the heavy wedding band onto my finger, his thumb deliberately pressing into my skin.

"Smile," Rowan whispered against my ear, his breath hot and sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. "Don't want anyone to think you're doing this against your will."

"That wouldn't be further from the truth," I retorted, trying to pull away.

But Rowan’s hand curled completely around my waist, his grip possessive and unyielding. "You will do as you're told, husband."

I thought this fake marriage was just a business deal. I thought we would divorce in a year. But when he dragged me into the hotel penthouse that night and locked the door behind us... I realized Rowan Hale had no intention of ever letting me go.

When hot-headed rogue Alpha: Reid Hades gets accepted into Northlands Crest University, Lyra Durin, the Vice Chancellor’s daughter, is far from thrilled.

Not just because he once coldly rejected her on the same night she failed to shift, but because he’s now living under her family’s roof.

When Lyra’s world shatters after catching her chosen mate in bed with her foster sister, she tries to punish the two betrayers using a revenge spell. But that spell backfires, restoring her mate bond with Reid instead. The only way out? Their hatred for each other has to overpower the strength of the bond.

The only question is… do they truly hate each other like they claim to do? Or is it all a facade?

A good girl like Lyra has no business getting involved with a bad boy like Reid, especially one with a past as dark as his. Reid is cursed and banished from his pack by his father, after murdering his own mother and attempting to kill his father’s second Luna again.

But secrets don’t stay buried for long, and the harder Lyra tries to hate him, the closer fate pulls them together.

He’s the last guy she should ever fall for.

She’s the only girl he can’t stay away from.

And in a house full of lies, rules, and deceit, love becomes the most dangerous rebellion of all.

How much of Reid’s darkness can Lyra handle before it finally consumes her? Can they really spare themselves from each other before the bond turns permanent?

My name is Emma. I used to be an interior designer with my own studio. To support my husband’s startup, I shut it all down, stepping into the shadows to become a full-time housewife.

On my birthday—our third wedding anniversary—he slammed divorce papers on the table.

He told me he had fallen in love with someone else: his subordinate, the woman who had been a constant fixture in our home lately.

But there was one crucial detail he missed.

She never joined his company for him.

She was my junior in college, the most fiercely loyal admirer of my design work. She didn't take that job or frequent our house because she was enamored with him. She did it to track me down, desperate to ask if I would ever design again.

And that man? Right up until the ink dried on those divorce papers, he smugly believed he was just dumping a mediocre, chore-bound wife.

He had no idea that the moment I picked up my drawing pen again, the housewife he looked down on would become a business rival entirely out of his league.

At the Falcone estate's riding ring, I watched my eight-year-old son Leo mount Starlight, preparing for the most important performance of his young life.
Before the third obstacle, the horse spooked. The instant Leo was thrown, I rushed forward to shield him—the cost was three shattered ribs and a kicked left lung.
When I woke from unconsciousness, I found myself in Dante's private clinic downstairs. From the adjacent room came the doctor's angry voice: "We agreed this was just a marrow extraction. Why did you set up what happened with the horse?"
My husband Dante Falcone's response made my blood run cold: "Leo was Mia's donor. Now that the procedure is complete, there's no point in continuing treatment. Mia is the real heir."
Eight years of marriage. I'd always believed that beneath Dante's cold exterior, Leo was still a son he treasured.
Only now did I understand—from the moment of his birth, Leo had been nothing more than a living donor prepared for his stepsister Mia.
The cruelest irony? Mia, the girl Dante loved so deeply, wasn't even his biological daughter.

My name is Dafu, I am a dog, and I can smell death.

Sweet, cloying spores and a metallic, fishy stench seeped in through the cracks in the door.
The owner's friend was crying and calling for help outside the door , but all I could hear from my nostrils was the gurgling of mucus and the rustling of fungal hyphae climbing—
The person outside had no heartbeat.

The owner ultimately decided to open the door and rescue the person .
no!

I bit his hand tightly , my eyes pleading desperately—
Master, trust me !
That thing outside the door! It's not a person at all!

The first time I met my best friend's older brother, he kissed me in a dark kitchen and scared me half to death.
Mia Cross and I had been inseparable since freshman orientation. I knew her coffee order, her worst ex's middle name, and exactly how long she could study before she started sending me videos of baby goats. I also knew she had an older brother, Adrian, but for almost three years he had existed only as a family legend.
He managed a major division of the Cross family's investment firm, spent most of his time overseas, and was apparently terrifying enough that Mia lowered her voice whenever she complained about him.
"He's coming home for good," she told me one Friday night as we sprawled across her bed. "Mom says he finally moved the last of his projects back."
"The tyrant returns."
"Exactly. Just a heads-up: don't poke the bear."

Six months after our bonding ceremony, I was ambushed by rogue wolves while searching for rare herbs in the Black Forest.
Their poisoned claws shredded my abdomen—and with it, any chance of ever carrying pups.
But my mate held my hand and wept. My mother swore she'd save me. My father said everything would be fine.
How pathetic—
Right before they wheeled me into surgery, I heard them through a cracked door, calmly discussing how to harvest my heart for the adopted sister who'd been waiting six months.
Turns out the "accident" was a gift from my loving family of four.
Turns out the last six months of "coming home" was just them fattening up my heart for harvest.
What they don't know? The voice memo on my phone caught everything.
What they really don't know? Six months from now, I'm coming back—
With a Dark Moon Alliance badge. And a heart much colder than the one they stole.
Shh. Listen.
That stolen heart? It's starting to reject.

In my previous life, I gave the SS-class Furnace Fortress to my sister, and she turned around and stabbed me in the back.
After being reborn, she wanted to take my forest . I smiled and said, "Fine, it's all yours."
This time, I chose the SS-class Forge Fortress.
And I want her to die crying in the yellow sand.

The man who turned me down is now dating my roommate.

I swore I’d never see him again until a hospital emergency forces us into the same room. Every quiet look tells me his rejection wasn‘t the whole story.

He’s supposed to be off-limits. He‘s hers. But the more I try to move on, the more he looks at me like I’m still his.

Can I resist the man who rejected me first or will the truth change everything?

Two years ago, my intended mate walked out of our Moon Rite, the night he was supposed to mark me, with his adopted sister in his arms. He didn't look back once.

That same night, his uncle, the Alpha King, held out his hand and asked if I'd consider a different mate.

I said yes.

Now Marcus is back, sure I've spent two years waiting for him. He laughs at the bite on my neck and calls it a sticker. He blocks my way at my own gates and orders me to apologize to his sister.

He has no idea whose house he's standing outside.

And his fragile little sister has a silver blade tucked up her sleeve.

The first time the system appeared, I thought it was a scam.
One wish per day, it said. Anything I wanted.
So I tested it with a hundred dollars.
That night, my mother handed me one bill. Then she smiled and told me she had bought my stepsister Mia a jacket worth two hundred.
That was when fifteen years of “coincidences” turned into math.
Every wish I had ever made came true.
And every time, Mia got double.
Toys. Shoes. Rooms. Phones. Love.
For years, I thought I was the daughter who was harder to love.
Then I realized the universe had been listening to me all along.
And for the first time, I wondered what would happen if I wished for something cruel.

Labeled a timid failure unfit for the stage, Maya is publicly humiliated and mocked by debate club vice president Blair. To save her, her best friend Chloe lies that ordinary vitamin C is a calming pill. Empowered by false confidence, Maya overcomes her fears and dominates the school debate finals with sharp logic. When the truth comes out, everyone realizes her stunning victory stems not from drugs, but from her own hidden talent and courage.

Seven years ago, Ronan Blackwood—Alpha of the Beastman Clan—endured 999 lashes and defied the Council's exile to bond with me, a human.

He swore before the gods I'd be his only mate, forever.

But when his childhood sweetheart Camilla was diagnosed with terminal cancer, he dissolved our soul-bond at the Underground Court.

Then he handed me a glowing vial—the Seven-Day Oblivion.

"Sia, I need seven days to give Camilla a proper bonding ceremony before she dies. This potion will make you forget me temporarily. No pain, no memories. After the ceremony, you'll take the antidote and love me again. Then we'll re-bond."

He promised this separation was temporary. That I'd still be his only true mate.

What he didn't know: the potion was forbidden. There was no antidote.

I stared into those amber eyes that once bled for me—and swallowed it anyway.

In seven days, I'll forget him completely.

The day the promotion list went public, a photo popped up in the company's all-staff Slack channel.
In the photo, my profile nearly overlapped with a scantily dressed girl, the background a dimly lit Manhattan nightclub.
Immediately after, Brad added a caption:
[No wonder Harper landed Richard's M&A deal. Last night's 'overtime' must have been rough, huh?]
Less than ten seconds after he sent it, the message still hung there in the channel. No retraction.
The chat that had just been flooding with "congrats Harper" messages went dead silent.
In my past life, my head buzzed. I thought no one would take such a cheap joke seriously.
But within two days, the company's internal anonymous forum exploded with accusations, complete with photos and "proof."
They said I slept with clients to win the merger deal. That I secured my full-time offer by sleeping my way up. That my personal life was a mess, that I was trash.
My mother collapsed from a heart attack when she heard. She never woke up.
Later, my promotion was revoked. HR suspended me for "damaging company reputation."
I was slut-shamed, radioactive across the entire finance industry — no firm on the Street would touch me.
Within a month, I spiraled from depression to sleepless nights, and finally jumped from the rooftop of my Brooklyn apartment.
Before I lost consciousness, my phone was still buzzing.
"Did they fire her yet? People like that don't belong on Wall Street."
When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at the blinking Slack messages on my screen.

In order to raise the surgical fees for my "blind" boyfriend, I dedicated three entire years to scrubbing toilets.

I believed I was his eyes, the sole beacon of light in his world of darkness.

Until his birthday arrived, I was confronted with the sight of that "incapable" man—who required my assistance even to drink water—coddling his ex-girlfriend while flirting.

"That fool is still busy cleaning toilets," he chuckled with a patronizing grin, brandishing my late mother's memento to charm that woman. "After all, she outshone you at Parsons. Let her serve me like a dog for three years—that'll be her punishment."

It dawned on me that my sacrifices were but fodder for their idle amusement.

Drying my tears, I turned and dialed the number I had blocked for three years—the one belonging to the fiancé who controlled an entire business empire.

"Sebastian, about that arranged marriage... I accept."

My pack's golden girl—my adopted sister—vanished. On my eighteenth birthday—the day my wolf should have awakened—my parents dragged me to a witch.
"Show us what you did to her."
Fine. Let them look.
Let them see who drugged me the day I came home. Who stole credit while I bled. Who smiled while planning my destruction.
They chose their precious Rosalie over me for three years.
They wanted the truth?
They were about to choke on it.

To buy the sky-high-price cake for my blind piano prodigy girlfriend, I swallowed my pride and scrubbed toilets for three months.
But returning home early with the cake, I found her, who was supposed to be groping in the dark, entangled with her rich ex-boyfriend.
Her eyes were clear, and her face was full of sneering mockery: "Isn't letting this design genius serve me like a dog for three years the perfect punishment for him always outshining you?"
I stood in the chilly wind outside the door. So, the deep affection and despair of these three years were all just an act she put on to please her ex.
Calmly, I threw the cake box into the trash. I pulled out my phone and sent a text to the number I had blocked for three years:
"Cecilia, I accept your marriage proposal."

The boy I grew up with was this town's star quarterback.

Everyone saw him as the golden boy.

Yet, for a delinquent, he willingly threw away his athletic career and plunged headfirst into the local drug ring.

Desperate to pull him back from the edge, I tipped off the police about the drug den, hoping it would be his wake-up call.

Instead, he hated me to the bone for it.

To prove his loyalty to his "true love"—and to punish me—he gave our home security code to a crew of methed-up thugs.

They broke in and put a bullet through my parents' heads, wiping out my entire family.

It wasn't until I took a bullet to the chest and lay choking on my own blood, staring at a mocking text from him, that I finally woke up.

But fate, it turns out, decided to give me a second chance.

I loved Damien for ten years. Ten years, right up until the moment he took the heart that was supposed to save our daughter and gave it to someone else's child.

Lily was only seven. She was terrified of the dark, terrified of pain. She never got that heart. She just faded, right there in that hospital bed.

And Damien was down the hall, celebrating someone else's miracle.

He had no idea what I was holding when he finally came home. He had no idea my stomach cancer had already hit the final stage.

There was nothing left in this world worth staying for.

So this time, I didn't yell. I didn't cry.

I just slid the divorce papers across the table.

He thought I was bluffing.

But this time, I had nothing left to lose.

The fake heiress and I died twice fighting over the same thing—which of us would get adopted by that wealthy couple.

The first time, I got the necklace. I became their daughter. I thought I'd finally have everything I'd ever wanted. Three months later, they drowned me in the bathtub.

William's voice still echoes in my head. "This is your fault! If we'd taken Chloe instead, she'd still be alive!"

The second time, I gave Chloe the necklace. Let her have the good life. I thought that would keep me safe.

Five years later, Chloe turned up dead in their mansion. The Harringtons called the cops on me. They said I broke in and killed her out of jealousy. I died in prison, broken and tortured. The last thing I heard was Catherine's voice through the visiting room glass, cold as ice. "You belong in the gutter."

The third time, I open my eyes again.

I watch the couple smile at us, all warmth and kindness, and one question burns in my mind. Which daughter do they actually want?

The smell of antiseptic, the sharp sting of restraints biting into my flesh, and the pitying look on Silas's face as he stood by my hospital bed.
"Maeve, you're so sick. The baby is just a hallucination."
In my last life, consumed by despair and self-doubt, I threw myself off the roof of the psychiatric hospital.
But now, my eyes snapped open, my hands instinctively flying to protect my stomach.
My baby is still here!
I'm back—exactly one week before my child disappeared.

On our wedding night, my husband wanted to play a game.
Trade secrets. The kind that could destroy you if they ever got out.
He went first.
"I hurt a girl once. At a ski lodge. She shouldn't have been in that room. But she was."
He said it like a parking ticket. Then he took a sip of whiskey and moved on.
My turn.
"I killed someone," I said. "Do you believe me?"
He laughed. He thought I was joking.
He really shouldn't have kissed me after that.

In my past life, I was pregnant and met a gruesome end, torn apart by the mad dog my cop husband kept, taking both my life and my baby's.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I discovered I was pregnant.
My seemingly perfect husband, the epitome of a good man, smiled as he brought me muffins laced with rat poison. My seemingly kind in-laws watched me intently, eager for me to swallow the deadly treat...
That's when it hit me: the perfect marriage I thought I had was actually a family conspiracy for murder!
This time, I refuse to be the lamb led to slaughter. If you want my life and my child's, then you'll all be begging for mercy in hell!

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

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

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

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

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

Seven years ago, betrayed by my closest friend and my fiancée, I was thrown into the lightless Black Sea Death Prison and tortured mercilessly.

Seven years later, I returned through a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, only to find my crippled little sister being trampled in the mud by my former "brother," forcing her to sign a humiliating organ extraction contract.

"A worthless ghost who just crawled out of death row—what makes you think you can fight a billionaire tycoon like me?"

At a grand banquet at the Peninsula Hotel, the treacherous couple threw a bloody dog bone at my feet. They mobilized hundreds of heavily armed SWAT officers to surround me, demanding I kneel, kowtow, and call them master.

They thought their wealth and power made them untouchable on the West Coast, assuming I was still the same spineless weakling from years ago.

That was until an EMP tore through the night sky. Three military stealth fighter jets hovered outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, and hundreds of laser sights from the nation's most classified special forces locked dead center on the foreheads of every elite in the room.

Under the horrified gazes of the city's high society, a four-star general crashed through the window and gave me the highest military salute:

"Tier Zero Task Force assembled! Supreme Commander, please give the order to purge!"

At that moment, the high-and-mighty tycoons finally remembered the terror of being dominated by the abyss.

Three years ago, I gave my grieving boss $6,000 for her husband’s funeral. The office called me a fool in love. She called me into her office—and fired me.
Then Claire appeared in my city with a suitcase, an apology, and an offer to start over.
I almost believed she had come back for me.
Until I overheard her whispering to a sick child about finding his real father.
Claire hadn’t returned alone. She had twins, one of them was dying, and the man who could save him might be me.

For three years, I was Julian Vance’s perfect shadow.

By day, I was the flawless executive secretary who kept his multi-billion-dollar empire running without a single hitch. By night, I was his secret, contract wife a convenient arrangement kept hidden behind the closed doors of his penthouse to satisfy a dying man's wish. I loved him in the quiet darkness, enduring his coldness, his family’s venom, and the cruel taunts of his elite childhood friend, Victoria.

But three months ago, the illusion shattered. When I was trapped in a hospital room losing our unborn child, Julian was on a red carpet with Victoria. His message to me through his assistant? “Do not interrupt important business meetings with minor domestic emergencies.”

That was the day Vivian Lane died.
The moment our three-year contract expires at midnight, I slide two papers across his mahogany desk: our signed divorce decree and my immediate resignation.

Julian scoffs, arrogant and completely convinced I’ll be crawling back to him within a month when my bank account dries up. He thinks I'm a penniless outcast with nowhere to turn.

He has no idea that while I was playing his submissive secretary, I was quietly building my own foundation. Now, his biggest corporate clients are jumping ship to my new boutique firm, and an international venture capital network has just hired a legendary, anonymous digital strategist known as "The Cipher" to engineer a hostile takeover of Vance Enterprises.

That strategist is me.
As his empire begins to bleed out brick by brick, the billionaire who once looked down on me finally drops to his knees. But I’m no longer his secretary, and I’m no longer his wife. If he wants me back, he’ll have to survive the ruin I’m about to bring to his doorstep.

I still remember the way the air felt when it left my lungs for the last time.

For five years, I was the Quiet Luna of the Blood Moon Pack. I was the wolf-less girl who wasn’t supposed to be there, the one the Omegas mocked and the elders ignored. I thought Nikolai Grey was the kind brother—the safe choice. I loved him through every cold look, and every night he left me alone because I couldn't give him a pup.

I was his wife, but to him, I was just a prophecy to be fulfilled. And when I didn't fit the mold? He didn't just discard me. He ended my life in front of everyone.

But the Moon Goddess gave me a second chance.

I woke up five years ago. The Knight family expects me to marry a Grey. They think I’m going to choose the charming, smiling Nikolai again.

They’re wrong.

I’m done being the victim. If I’m going to survive this life, I don’t need a husband; I need a weapon. I need the brother Nikolai is terrified of. The one they call a monster because he doesn't know how to pretend.

Alexander Grey. He’s ruthless. He’s cold. He’s the Alpha everyone avoids in the hallways. I walked right up to him, ignored the warning growl in his chest, and asked him to marry me.

Nikolai thinks he’s getting a submissive bride. He has no idea that this time, I’m bringing his worst nightmare home to dinner.

In a world where love is a dangerous game, Leila Castor finds herself charmed by the devil himself. Ben Maloney, with his alluring facade and sweet promises, hides an evil truth that threatens Leila's life. When he betrays her, leaving her to choke on her blood, Leila's thirst for revenge knows no bounds.

And luckily fate grants her a second chance, And discovers she has been taken back in time two months before her death! Will she rewrite the wrongs done to her or set out on a path of retribution against those who wronged her?

The female presidential candidate slipped a real-time tracker into my bag, then handed me the divorce papers.

She still thought I would coddle her like I had for the past five years and stay by her side.

"Fine." I signed the papers and left.

She started tracking me, driving away any women around me, showing up at my house in the middle of the night begging me to come back.

But... weren't you the one who wanted the divorce?

I’m a cleaner—the kind hired to make problems disappear: eliminate targets, wipe scenes, erase evidence.

Three years ago, I walked away. I took a desk job at a consulting firm, spending my days sorting files and filling spreadsheets.

To everyone else, I was an easy mark. The project lead mocked me in meetings, stole credit, and dumped every mistake on my head—always in public.

Then came the department banquet.

My enemies showed up.

The same lead who’d been riding me all year ignored my warning and blocked the hallway, drawing a crowd.

The next second, the bomb went off—and the banquet hall was sealed.

That’s when everyone finally understood who the quiet office clerk really was.

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?

She was my best friend — until she used a soul-swapping potion to steal my body, my face, and my man.
In my past life, I was trapped inside her fat, ugly shell and drowned in the freezing depths of the sea.
Reborn on the day before the swap, I didn't expose her.
I smiled and drank the tea.
After she left, I picked up a knife and carved two deep gashes across my own face.
Then I threw myself from the second floor.
The next morning she woke up giddy with excitement. The moment she looked in the mirror, her screams echoed through the entire hospital.
Meanwhile, I opened my eyes in her Mafia Godfather father's estate — and walked straight into the family council.
She wanted my beauty? She could have it.
The power she was desperate to throw away? I'll take it.

Every anniversary, my boyfriend pretends to propose to me—just because his adopted sister thinks it’s hilarious.
One year, the ring box held nothing but a "Dream on" note. Another, he dropped to one knee—just to tie his shoe. Last year, he finally slid a real ring onto my finger. The band was lined with silver. While I screamed, he and Myrtle laughed themselves breathless. In the ER that night, he held my bandaged hand and swore: Next year. For real.
So, on the eve of our seventh anniversary, when he called me out to the lake house I’d designed for our future, I curled my hair. I wore a new dress.
I opened the door, and a bucket of ice-cold mud crashed down over my head.
“Sorry, babe,” Hesper grinned. “I bet them you’d show. You did—so no proposal this year.”
I ripped off the moonstone pendant I’d worn for seven years.
“Then we’re done.”

Typically, brides swap bouquets for good luck when wedding motorcades cross paths.
But in Liam’s Southern hometown, they had a twisted tradition: they swapped brides.

When our limousines met bumper-to-bumper, Kinsley leaned right past me. She pressed a lingering kiss to my fiancé’s cheek.
"Hope you don't mind, Rachel," she purred with innocent malice. "I’m stealing your groom."
The groomsmen howled like it was a frat party.
"Might as well take his honeymoon suite key too!" one shouted. "Liam wouldn't survive the wedding night without his childhood sweetheart anyway!"
They roared with laughter.

I sat frozen, my gaze locked on Liam. Just tell them to stop, I prayed. Just choose me. Just this once.
Instead, Liam gave me that familiar, condescending smile and patted my trembling hand.
"Don't pout, Rachel. You're the mature one, remember?" he coaxed. "It's just a local tradition. We can't break customs today."
Something inside me finally snapped. There was no anger left—just a bone-deep exhaustion.
The old me would have screamed and demanded respect. But today, I simply slipped my hand out from under his.

Without a word, I stepped out of the car. Ignoring Liam's sudden look of confusion, I walked straight past the cheering groomsmen toward the other limo.
Kian Porter—Liam’s college roommate—leaned against the hood. I reached out and smoothly looped my arm through his.
The laughter choked to a dead halt. In the deafening silence, I looked up at Kian with a steady smile.
"Let's get out of here, fiancé."
If Liam wanted to play by their twisted traditions, fine. This time, I was giving him exactly what he asked for.

In my past life, we were camping in the wilderness area of a state park when my best friend handed out "lucky charms" to the whole group. Charms she'd secretly packed full of wildlife attractant.

A wild boar knocked me to the ground outside the cabin door. Its tusks tore into my stomach. I pounded on the wood with both fists, screaming. "Help! Open the door!"

Inside were my boyfriend of two years and the best friend I'd been quietly supporting for just as long. Autumn Warren.

"I'm so sorry, Brynn." Autumn's voice broke into sobs, but her weight stayed pressed hard against the door. "There are boars everywhere. We open that door, we're all dead."

"Just hold on! I'm calling 911!" Wyatt Fletcher's voice rang out with the kind of conviction that cost him absolutely nothing.

I paid for that trip. I'd fallen behind because I'd stopped to pull Autumn along.

And they stood on the other side of that door, my blood soaking into the dirt, and locked me out.

I open my eyes. I'm back. It's the day we left.

Three months into their marriage, Stella Dawson had been diligently playing the role of a delicate, spoiled flower—pushing every button she could—until she finally drove the CEO to the brink of madness.
Alexander Sterling coldly tossed the divorce papers at her. "Let's get divorced."
Tears welled up in Stella's eyes, but inwardly, she was grinning from ear to ear. Good riddance to being the CEO's wife! I'm going back to being the richest woman alive!
Alexander was certain he’d never regret his decision.
That is, until he saw his ex-wife surrounded by admirers, amassing wealth, and dominating every industry she touched. Power players from all fields bowed before her, declaring, "Little sister, just say the word, and we’ll take down anyone who dares mess with you!"
Swallowing his pride, Alexander squeezed his way into the crowd of handsome men. "Sweetheart, I take it back. Let’s get back together."

In my previous life, I gave away all my resources to save people, but my godfather broke my legs and fed me to the zombies.
Reincarnated 30 days before the apocalypse, I borrowed millions to build a nuclear-proof bunker and bought twelve retired, violent, and rabid dogs.
Extreme cold descends. With nowhere else to turn and in a desperate attempt to survive, the priest forces a space-age ability user to pinpoint the coordinates of the area inside the bunker with the "highest concentration of heat," and then forcibly teleports to steal the bunker.
He landed laughing wildly, feeling the scorching heat wave hitting him, thinking he had taken over my generator room and greenhouse.
I sneered and remained silent through the bulletproof glass.
This idiot has no idea that the hottest place in my shelter... has never been the generator.

They kept me shackled before the Gates of the Abyss, force-feeding me toxic sludge and draining my final drop of blood, all to maintain their hypocritical "order." They called me the "Ultimate Anchor," unaware that the moment a watchdog decides it’s done playing the dog, the beast in the cage finally wakes up. From the very second I seized the laws of physics, this entire headquarters of the Defense Bureau became my private mausoleum. Your high-and-mighty Director? He’s currently kneeling in my cycle, begging for the sweet release of death. As for that Void Rift that makes the world tremble? Sorry, I just ate it for dinner.

I'm the mafia heir's practice girlfriend.
He uses me to learn how to control his temper, how to kiss, how to make love.
All so he won't freak out his true love after they get married.
His guys worry: "Boss, you're not actually catching feelings for the maid's daughter, are you?"
Michael laughs coldly: "Would you fall for a sex toy?"
Everyone thinks I'm pathetic, but I keep smiling while I hand him knives and light his cigarettes.
Until news breaks that he's engaged.
His mom slaps down a hundred-million-dollar check: "Get away from Michael. Disappear forever."
I take the money like a good girl and vanish.
But that night, I hear Michael tried to kill himself and got rushed to the ER.

An accident took my sight when I was a child. From that day on, my world was nothing but darkness.

When I was little, Derek, my childhood sweetheart, held my hand and swore he would be my eyes and protect me for the rest of my life.

But as we grew older, he began to see me as a burden just because I was blind. He fell for my bright, outgoing younger sister, Lilith.

He often hid my cane and watched me struggle to find my way. Then he and Lilith would laugh at me together.

Today was my coming-of-age mate party. It was supposed to be the day Derek and I became mates.

Instead, he brought in five werewolves and had them pretend to be him so I would have to pick him out from among them.

He said that if I chose him correctly, we would mate today.

But I could smell every one of them clearly.

Not a single man among the five was Derek.

Then again, whether I chose him or someone else had stopped mattering a long time ago.

I was carrying Don Elijah’s child. But on the exact day I went into labor, the man I loved dragged me to an underground freezer—standing at a deadly minus ten degrees Celsius—and locked the heavy metal door.

The reason? The Varro Mafia family’s ironclad rule: the firstborn son inherits the entire empire. His brother’s wife, Elena, was also pregnant, our due dates separated by a single day.

To guarantee his brother’s child secured the throne, Elijah callously snuffed out my hope.

"Elena’s child must be born first," he demanded coldly. "This is what you owe them!"

He ignored the warm rush of my broken water. He ignored my agonizing, tearing contractions. He shoved me into the icy darkness, violently injecting me with a drug specifically designed to halt my labor.

Curled up on the frost-covered concrete, freezing and completely alone, I clutched my stomach in sheer agony. In the suffocating cold, I felt the terrifying stillness. I felt the tiny, fighting heartbeat inside me slowly, torturously fading away.

Hot tears streamed down my face, freezing before they hit the ground.

"My baby..." I whispered into the pitch-black void, my heart shattering into a million pieces. "Mommy is so sorry..."

Elijah sacrificed our child out of blind loyalty to his brother. But when he finally opens that frostbitten door, he won’t merely find a broken woman—he will face the terrifying, irreversible ruin of his own legacy.