4476 Book(s) Related to a night with my best friends dad

Olympia was sold during the Annual Omega Bidding to the powerful and arrogant Alpha King, Alpha Fabian, who owns a five-star night club. Every year, he recruits Omegas to serve as strippers in the club. Others, to serve his top clients in the bedroom.
Most sold off by their relatives.
Once recruited here, chances of escaping and getting a fated mate are slim as the Omegas are considered used.
He’s the most powerful Alpha King in the world, no one can question him.
Leaving her family behind and worse, being sold off by her stepdad haunted her.
Upon arrival at the palace, she got into an issue with one of the task masters overseeing the royal maids.
At the verge of punishment, she’s rescued by a cool, charming gentleman when everyone else watches. Olympia fell for him at first sight, only to discover they are quadruplets.
Alpha Fabian, upon discovering her first day rebellion, as punishment, handed her over to his ruthless quadruplet sons as their personal callgirl.
Alpha Elliott, Asher and Ryder soon realize she’s their mate and are more than eager to tame her, not only physically but in bed but she hates them. They are Enigma Alphas, too dangerous for an Omega like her.
But she loves only one.
Alpha Cassius. The Alpha who saved her.
But what will be her fate as Alpha Cassius is an Enigma. He's an exorcist, regarded as consecrated mate of the moon goddess yet he's the only one among the Alpha princes she wants most, her wolf desires, her body arches for.
What will become of this intense forbidden passion between an Omega slave and the charming exorcist who is trying hard to fight demons and his feral desires at the same time?

I’m a werewolf.

Three months ago, I got involved in a back-alley “not my problem”—a man held a knife to a woman clutching her child. I rushed him and tore his throat out with my teeth.

Now the police are hunting me. My pack can’t protect me. The only option left is to slip out of the country.

The fixer at the meet hands me a bottle of “calming meds,” says it’ll get me through the checkpoints.

I smell the drugs anyway. I drink it.

When I wake up, my hands are tied behind my back inside a sealed metal cargo truck. Someone beside me is crying. Someone else is shaking.

That’s when I realize I’ve been sold into a trafficking ring. They slap a number tag on me, lock me in a steel cage, and wait for dawn to ship us out.

A guard cracks my face with a rifle stock—sure I’m just another desperate man trying to disappear.

He has no idea a cage can’t hold a werewolf.

Especially not tonight—under a full moon.

There was a project at our company that promised a £50,000 bonus upon completion.
As the lead planner, I had worked my fingers to the bone for over half a year, pushing the project to 99% completion. Yet, just a week ago, right at the final hurdle, Charlotte—the daughter of the company’s largest shareholder—got jealous.

Eager to steal the ultimate credit, she forcibly parachuted into the project department, hijacked my position as the lead planner, and insisted on presenting the pitch to the client’s top executives herself.

Amateurs dictating to professionals—the outcome was entirely predictable.
Her arrogant, clueless micro-management completely infuriated the client’s Big Boss. They flipped out on the spot, threatening to terminate the contract and seek damages.

After causing this catastrophic disaster, the "princess"—who normally paraded around calling everyone her "bros"—played dead at the speed of light.
She ignored calls, left emails unread, and threw the entirely collapsed, hopeless mess right into my face.

For the sake of my team's blood, sweat, and tears, and even more so to prevent my boyfriend Bastian’s company from getting sued, I paid £24,000 out of my own pocket. I stayed up for three consecutive nights, scrambling to find a backup crew, booking restaurants to humbly appease the client, and ultimately breathed life back into the chaotic mess she left behind.

I thought that when I brought the receipts in for reimbursement, I would at least get a guilty "thank you." Instead, she flipped through the stack of invoices, let out a cold sneer, and smacked them right back into my face.

"Bella, after making such a massive compliance mess, you actually have the nerve to ask me for a reimbursement?"

Five years ago, my fiancée and a chaebol heir broke my ribs and threw me into the sewer like trash.

Five years later, they implanted a neurotoxin bomb into the back of my sister's neck, forcing me on all fours to crawl between the security guards' legs into their engagement banquet at a Manhattan penthouse hotel.

My ex-fiancée poured champagne over my wounds, while the chaebol heir ground caviar into the muddy water with his leather shoes, forcing me to lick it clean like a dog.

The room full of Wall Street elites laughed at my humiliation, thinking I was still the same bottom-tier temp worker from back then.

They had no idea that through my micro-earpiece, a heavy armored division was already on standby under the cover of night.

When the confirmation came that the bomb had been defused, I slowly stood up straight.

Outside the window, engines roared. Ten heavy Black Hawk helicopters tore through the curtain of rain, their heavy machine guns instantly shattering the banquet hall's reinforced glass.

Looking down at the chaebol heir who was now slumped in the muddy water, I drew my sidearm: "The debt from five years ago—today, I'm collecting it with your family's lives."

Translation

Zombies besieged the city. I fought through the infected zone alone and brought back the vaccine.

All of humanity hailed me as their savior.

But at the medal ceremony, my superior and fiancée Amy shoved me aside. "You're covered in blood. Stand over there. Would it kill you to be more like David?"

"A man who can't even bear to look at violence—that's what a civilized person looks like."

For the sake of being her idea of civilized, I locked away my weapons and spent three years as her errand boy. I took countless bullets meant for her, and still she complained I wasn't gentle enough.

Then the virus mutated. To save David, I crushed a Tyrant's skull with my bare hands.

She threw her arms around the trembling David, slammed the table, and screamed at me: "If you don't get this violent streak under control, you can forget about being the Chief's husband. Apologize to David. Now."

The vaccine I'd risked my life for—she used every last drop of it to win favor with her pretty boy.

I ejected the magazine from my rifle and tossed my medal into the rubble.

"That position of yours? Give it to whoever you want."

Five years after breaking the mate bond, Vincent became one of the youngest Alphas of the North, worth hundreds of billions, with a fiancée who was a perfect match for him — the daughter of Silver Claw Pack’s Alpha.
But I had already disappeared from his world, my name now only whispered in rumors about me being a bar hostess at Midnight Howl Bar, catering to Alphas and nobility.
When someone mentioned my name to him, he simply held his fiancée’s hand with a cold look in his eyes.
"I don't know her."
At his bonding ceremony, everyone congratulated the "perfect match."
But I, floating in the air, watched as Vincent stood beside his dazzling Luna.
What he didn't know...
He was the only Alpha I ever loved.
What he didn’t know...
I had been dead for a year.
Before I died, I was desperately earning money just to get our daughter the treatment she needed.
Then one day...
He found me at the Midnight Howl Bar where I worked in life, catching a faint but familiar scent of me. That moment...
His wolf spirit completely lost control.

BLURB
"You're the only one who can wake me. Now you'll carry my curse, and my crown."
When Aria Silverthorn's fiancé and stepsister publicly accused her of being Omega-born fraud, stripping her rank and dignity, she lost everything. Cast into the Forsaken Lands to die, she survived three months of hell—and desperation drove her to the forbidden Moonfall Crypt, where Alpha King Kael Nightfang has been entombed for five years.
The Council claims he died heroically. The truth? They poisoned him with wolfsbane silver, trapping him in death-sleep when he discovered their corruption.
When Aria touches his tomb seeking shelter, the impossible happens. He wakes—but only she can anchor him to life. Only her touch keeps him from slipping back into the void. Their bond is immediate, undeniable, and dangerous.
Kael should be dead. The Council made sure of it. For five years, his consciousness has been trapped between life and death, aware of every agonizing moment.
Until Aria.
She's his anchor. His prison. His salvation. And he's not letting her go, not when she's the key to his revenge and reclaiming his throne.
But their bond goes deeper than magic. They're true mates,a connection so rare it hasn't occurred in centuries. A bond the Council will kill to prevent, because true mates can challenge their entire corrupt system.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-WARNING-This story may contain content that some may find disturbing.

“If you can’t satisfy me with your mouth, then you’ll have to satisfy me some other way.”

He ripped off her flimsy clothing and tossed the shredded fabric aside. Visenya panicked as she realized exactly what he was implying.

“Let me try again…with my mouth. I think I c...”

“Quiet!” His voice echoed off the walls of his bedchamber, silencing her on the spot.

This wasn’t the way she had imagined her first time would be. She pictured passionate kisses and gentle caresses from a man who loved and cherished her. Lucian wouldn’t be loving, and he certainly didn’t cherish her either. She had been cursed with a mate who was bent on revenge, wanting nothing more than to watch her suffer.


Ten years had passed since Dragons ruled over the world…since Visenya took her place as Lycan Queen. Vampires were forced into the shadows now that hunting and enslaving humans was punishable by death. The world was finally at peace…until Dragon Lord, Lucian woke from his induced sleep to discover that his entire race had been massacred by Visenya’s father. Visenya is stripped of her kingdom and forced to live out the rest of her days as Lucian’s slave. The cruelest joke of all is, Visenya learns that the mate she has been so faithfully waiting for all these years, is none other than the vengeful Dragon Lord himself.

Consumed by their hatred for each other, is it enough to fight the intense mate bond between them? Will Lucian push Visenya to her absolute limit, just to regret it all in the end?

Her hands slid up to his chest, palms flat, feeling the solid strength beneath his shirt. The fear didn’t vanish completely. But it quieted. Receded into the background. Logan’s thumb brushed her cheek, slow and grounding, as his other hand settled at her waist.

The kiss grew warmer. Slower. Logan felt it too, sharp and electric. His wolf stirred restlessly, recognizing something it shouldn’t, something it wanted to claim even as his mind warned him to stop. He broke the kiss first, breathing hard, forehead resting against hers.

“Emily,” he murmured, strained. “We should—” She didn’t let him finish. Her lips brushed his jaw, tentative, almost questioning. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t send me away.”


After being betrayed forty-eight times by her mate, Oscar, Emily is drugged and offered to powerful wolves for his gain. Desperate and fleeing danger, she collapses into the arms of Lucas Walker, one of seven feared Alpha Brothers who rule the strongest pack. Drawn to her by an unstoppable pull, the brothers vow to protect her. But Emily’s past hides a darker secret, one that fate has bound to all of them.

I used to think love was supposed to hurt.

Sidney forgot me five times in one month, left me waiting in the dark, and always had a reason—Azalea needed help, his friends needed him, something else came first.

I told myself he loved me.

He just loved me lazily.

Then one night, after I missed the last bus from my competition, I called the Lawson house. Sidney wasn’t there. Elijah answered.

He was rude. Cold. Infuriating.

But he came.

When three men cornered me on an empty street, Elijah became a wall between me and danger. When I cried in my bathroom, he cleaned my bruises. When my calf cramped so badly I couldn’t stand, he knelt on the tile and fixed the pain with careful hands.

He never said sweet things.

He just showed up.

Again and again.

Soon, I started looking for him in every crowd, every rainstorm, every silent night. I told myself it was gratitude. Dependence. Anything but love.

Because falling for Elijah meant betraying Sidney.

But how long can a heart stay loyal to someone who never protects it?

They say the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. They never said anything about his soul.

I was a culinary prodigy on the verge of global fame until my fiancé and my best friend murdered me with my own carving knife to steal my recipes. My last thought wasn’t of love, but of a burning vow: If I get a second chance, I will serve them their just deserts.

I got my wish.

I woke up not in a morgue, but in the body of an omega slave, Number 74, in the brutal, wolf-ruled kingdom of the Lunar Fang Pack. I was weak, worthless, and slated to die in the kitchens. But they didn’t know who they were dealing with. The soul of a master chef still burned within me.

When I poured my rage and my grief into a simple broth for a dying slave, I discovered a truth that would shatter this world: my emotions are ingredients. My cooking is magic. A stew made with spite can poison. A cake baked with defiance can empower.

Now, my unique gift has drawn the attention of the three most dangerous Alphas in the kingdom.

Emperor Kael, the cursed and ruthless Alpha King
ho woman, not just the weapon.

Commander Cassian, his stoic, lethal protector,

Prince Raze, the visiting rival Alpha

They think I’m a pawn in their game of thrones. A tool to be used and discarded.

They have no idea.

I was betrayed for my recipes once. I’ll be damned if I let a trio of Alphas do it again. My menu is set, and this time, the main course is revenge.

The only question is: which of these powerful wolves will be the first to take a bite?

In my past life, my wife was in a car accident and became a vegetable.

I bankrupted myself trying to save her, going from billionaire to homeless vagrant.

When I finally died mysteriously in prison, I understood the truth:

My wife had been faking her coma all along. She wanted to steal my fortune with her lover—my own brother.

But now I've been reborn.

"Since she's already dead, let's harvest all her organs for donation," I told the doctor.

My wife was sleeping with her assistant.

I didn’t confront her. I was in the middle of a critical funding round and about to take over as CEO, and I couldn’t afford to act on emotion.

Then my PI told me the truth: the affair was only the beginning.

On her birthday night, she planned to drug me, send my secretary into my room, and frame me for cheating—maybe even saddle me with a fake child scandal.

If it worked, my CEO promotion would be dead, the funding would collapse, and my reputation would be finished.

She thought the setup was flawless.

Too bad she forgot one thing:

I’m not good at explaining myself. I’m good at letting people walk straight into the trap I built for them.

So that night, the man carried into the room wasn’t me.

It was her lover.

They told me my daughter drowned. Too much to drink, a slick deck, a terrible accident.

Then they put a number on her, slid the check across the table, and asked me to sign away the right to ever ask how she died.

I signed.

They didn't ask what I'd do after.

I changed my name. I spent three years earning a desk in their building, close enough to hear the man who buried her joke about the father who "made some noise, took the money, and went away."

He doesn't know my face. None of them do.

They thought the money bought my silence.

They have no idea what it bought.

I’m a retired Special Forces soldier. After I got out, I handled problems people didn’t want on paper, and I’ve seen enough dirty work to last a lifetime.

When I finally retired for real, I wanted a normal life.

So I came back to the orphanage where I grew up, planning to adopt a quiet seven-year-old boy I’d kept in touch with for years.

But the moment I arrived, I was told he’d already been “adopted.”

I called the family to make sure he was safe. On the line he said, “I’m fine.”
Then I heard it—fingernails tapping in a pattern: three short, three long, three short.

The distress signal I had taught him.

I stormed into the director’s office and forced the truth out: the adoption papers were fake. He wasn’t taken into a home. He was sold.

They think I’m just a returning orphanage worker.
They have no idea what I’ve done out there—and no idea I’m very good at cleaning up this kind of mess.

An epic cold snap struck, causing temperatures to plummet to minus eighty degrees Celsius.
My fiancée and best friend occupied my hillside villa, laughing hysterically as they watched a video of me nearly freezing to death.
In their eyes, once I turned into a solid block of ice, they could rightfully inherit my vast fortune and live in this warm, doomsday Noah's Ark.
But what they didn't know was that the video was n't real at all .
I stood in the temperature-controlled bunker twenty meters below them and cut off their main power.
The hunt was about to begin.

"You were like a starved beast last night," I complained, spreading jam on my toast.
Gideon's hands froze mid-knot on his tie. He turned to me, his eyes filled with utter bewilderment.
"Nadia, are you out of your mind? I was in the study finishing up that proposal last night. I crashed on the couch at three in the morning. I never even went into the bedroom."
The knife dropped from my hand onto the table.
If the man I made love to all night wasn't my husband.
Then... who was it?

Everyone said I’d traded five years of my youth and my unwavering devotion for an engagement that every woman envied.
My fiancé, Felix Smith, seemed to believe it, too. He gave me pearls, promised me a bright future, and wrapped me up in a web of tenderness, layer after layer.
Until that afternoon, when he held me close, yet used a language he thought I didn’t understand to weave the perfect "wedding" con over the phone.
That was the moment I finally realized: over these five years, who had he really been looking at through me? And every pearl he ever gave me, whose tastes was he remembering?
When the elevator failed and darkness crashed down, the person he protected on instinct wasn’t me.
When the wind howled across the empty outskirts, the person he chose to abandon was me.
I’d been learning how to love him, how to become a proper bride. In the end, what I learned was how to exit quietly, out of his world with Serena.

She never saw it coming. After five years of marriage, it took a DNA test to blow everything up.

The son she raised from birth? Her husband's kid with his ex. And somehow, both of them knew the whole time and said nothing.

It gets worse. She overheard her husband's actual plan: wait for the ex to come back, then push her out of the company "nicely" and hand her five million as a goodbye gift.

Five million? She single-handedly kept that company alive, pouring in her own money and connections to clean up his messes. And that's all she's worth?

She was done. She wanted everything back that was hers.

The ungrateful kid? She's over it. The husband chasing his first love? Good riddance.

But the moment she walked away for real, both of them came running back.

"Baby, please. Just give me one more chance."

She didn't even look up.

“No. Mabel, I cannot lose you again. Since you’re back now, there is no need for me to marry her and I have to make sure you stay by my side at all times. I never loved her. I was only using her to grow this company. The vice president position of this company is yet to be filled. If you’re be my woman again, I’ll give it to you. Together, we can run this company. Together, we’ll be inseparable.” These were the words Daphne heard clearly from her soon-to-be husband. She had been stood up at the bridal shop only to watch her fiancé cradling another woman in his arms and professing his undying love for her. Devastated but strong-willed, she chose to move on but having the formidable heir, Marco King all over her wasn’t on her bingo card. Like they say, “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

What if your husband lived a double life and you are the fake wife?

I woke up to my husband celebrating our baby's death. He had poisoned me with abortion pills so he could marry Catherine Morrison-the rich woman he thinks is better than me and pregnant with what he thinks is his child.

I overheard him laughing; 'if she shows up somewhere demanding answers, I'll just say I've never seen her before in my life, Who are people going to believe? Me or some random girl from nowhere?'

David thought I had no evidence. He thought he had covered his tracks perfectly. He thought he was untouchable.

But when I'm done, he'll wish he never met me.

I was married to Vera for three years.

In those three years, every time we fought, I was the one who backed down first. She got used to being indulged, and she got used to using the silent treatment to make me fold.

Then a blizzard grounded my flight. I didn’t make it back for her birthday. She filed for divorce out of spite and left the country.

Three years ended without dignity.

A year after the divorce, Vera returned with a new jewelry brand and a high-profile comeback. Everyone assumed I was still waiting for her—she assumed it too.

At dinners, she hinted at reconciliation, using our old story to build hype for her brand. The circle started whispering that I’d end up back by her side.

I corrected it, again and again. She ignored every word.

What she didn’t know was that I already had someone new—and we were preparing to get engaged.

When she saw the engagement planning booklet, she convinced herself it was my signal to take her back.

I explained. She insisted.

Until the day of the engagement, when she stormed into the venue…

On our first wedding anniversary, I walked into my husband's office and found him having sex with my best friend.

He didn't even apologize. Instead, claiming he was disgusted that I hadn't produced an heir in a year of marriage, he threw divorce papers in my face.

Five years later, I returned to New York with my new husband—Cassian Vitiello, the Godfather of the North American underworld.

Vincent ran into me at the docks. He handed me a business card, offering me a job as a nanny for his mistress's son.

What he didn't know was that the woman he was mocking was now the Donna—the woman the entire East Coast underground feared.

My first love was adopted by our family, and he promised he would always be there for me.
But after my dad passed away in a car accident, I found him with another woman in our bedroom.
He told everyone Caroline was his true love—that he only saw me as a sister—and claimed I was the one who was pestering him.
I was shamed by everyone. The stress gave my mother a stroke, and Caroline even had someone run me over, costing me an eye.
Seven years later, holding flowers, I ran into them outside a convenience store.
Arthur's son looked at me pityingly. "Dad, this lady lost an eye… Is she selling flowers? Should we buy some?"

Galadriel discovers that Alpha Lorcan has betrayed her and is having an affair with his sister-in-law, Marigold. Using a hidden computer, she finds explicit photos and videos of the two of them, and she publicly exposes them. Beta Aurelian provides her comfort, and she decides to perform the mate ceremony with Aurelian. Suddenly, Alpha Lorcan bursts in, demanding that Galadriel not bond with Beta Aurelian. As tensions rise, Aurelian reveals his true identity.

In the year 3000, magic and technology flourish side by side.
Wielders of magic are no longer myth… They’re real and revered.
“Joel,” a humble wizard living a quiet life,
accidentally spends his last coin on gemstones,
leaving him broke and desperate!
To make ends meet, he becomes a livestreamer,
broadcasting his mysterious magical lifestyle
just to get through each day.
But then…
His streams catch the attention of “Jaden,”
the heir to a gemstone empire and an art collector obsessed with a centuries-old painting of a ginger-haired, opal-eyed wizard—
a figure he’s searched for his whole life.
Until finally… he finds Joel online.
Is it fate, or something more, that draws them together?
Can Joel unlock the mysteries of Jaden’s past?
A timeless love story infused with magic and technology will change both of their lives forever…

Hiding my identity and marrying an ambitious female celebrity—this is the most boring social experiment I've ever done.
She wants me to leave with nothing.
She gave my family heirloom to that gigolo.
She tweeted that I was "low-class trash".
She didn't know that Hollywood, which she was desperately trying to climb up to, was nothing more than my backyard.
She had no idea that those capitalists she fawned over would all bow down and call me "Mr. Rockwell."
Until that night, she stripped naked, attempting to offer herself to the enigmatic "godfather of capital"—
The leather sofa slowly turned around.
The lights were on.
She saw my face.
“Chloe,” I flicked my cigar ash, “what brings you here?”

When sunny California girl Avery Kane is uprooted to icy Evergreen, Minnesota, for her dad’s new job as head coach of the junior hockey team, she braces for frostbite and culture shock—not a heart-racing collision with team captain Knox Callahan. From a near-fatal rogue puck to stolen hot chocolates, flirty texts, and bonfire sparks, Avery’s guarded world thaws fast around the charming, mint-gum-scented hockey star who calls her “strategically adorable.”

But Evergreen’s tight-knit world comes with sharp edges. Sophia Reyes, poised team manager and Knox’s on-again-off-again ex, isn’t the only threat. Enter Riley Voss, the venomous queen bee of Evergreen High—captain of the cheer squad, daughter of the town’s biggest booster, and fiercely territorial over “her” hockey boys. Riley sees Avery as an outsider invading her carefully curated kingdom and wastes no time unleashing petty sabotage: locker-room rumors, iced-out group chats, and a public humiliation at the next game that leaves Avery questioning everything.

As Knox’s family crisis pulls him away and Sophia circles closer, Avery must navigate jealousy, small-town politics, and Riley’s escalating cruelty. In a town where hockey is religion and love is a brutal game, one wrong move could send her crashing. Will Avery fight back, claim her place, and win the boy—or let the bullies skate away with her heart?

Last time, she chased the “true love” a corporate spy sold her—publicly branded me controlling, stole my core tech, and helped him shove me off a rooftop.

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

This time I didn’t expose her, didn’t confront her, and didn’t beg her to stay. I set the trap—watched her come close again, test my limits, and steal the “core technology”…

Until the stolen code blew up the rival company, until she was unmasked in front of the cameras and taken away in handcuffs.

Through tears, she demanded, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner he was a corporate spy?”

I answered only, “I did. Last life.”

With her husband feeling more like a distant roommate, Nikki, an ex-college soccer player, knows there's more out there for her but scared to leave the comfort of her normal, usual, secure life. One night, during a massive storm, lightening strikes as a new player, Shane, joins her team. The second their eyes meet, time stops. She knows this person has always lived in her heart and soul. What is this feeling? It's illogical, it's fantasy, it's supported by all of the physical evidence you could throw in front of her. What the hell even is a soul mate, anyways? There's only one way to find out without actually having to interact with the dark haired stranger in real life...inviting him to dream with her. Will he join her?

Charlotte Hayes never dreamed of becoming Mrs. Hawthorne.
After a life-changing night left her pregnant, Ethan Hawthorne was forced to marry her to take responsibility for their unborn child and protect the Hawthorne family's reputation. But the marriage Charlotte believed would be the beginning of a happy family became the beginning of her nightmare.
Inside the Hawthorne Mansion, she was treated not as a wife, but as a servant. Every day, she was humiliated, overworked, and starved by the Hawthorne family. To make matters worse, her former best friend, Vanessa Caldwell—the woman the Hawthorne family had always wanted Ethan to marry—slowly took her place and stole her husband's heart.
When Charlotte uncovered the secrets of the Shadow Circle, a powerful organization controlling the country's biggest corporations, she became a threat they couldn't afford to leave alive. Before she could expose the truth, she was murdered in a staged accident.
But death was not the end.
Charlotte opened her eyes in the body of Olivia Whitmore, the sole heiress of Whitmore Enterprises, who had also died under mysterious circumstances on the very same night.
This time, she won't return to fight for love. She'll return to uncover the truth, destroy the people who ruined her life, and seek justice for both herself and Olivia.
But what happens when the man who once abandoned her falls in love with her all over again... without realizing that the woman he's desperately trying to win back is the very wife he once failed to protect?
When Ethan finally learns the truth, will regret be enough to win Charlotte back... or has he already lost her forever?

My fiancée and best friend, whom I risked my life to protect, sold me to the brutal "Blood Blade Gang . "
They laughed as they watched me being kicked into a pool of radioactive waste like a dog, waiting for me to turn into a pile of bones.
But they didn't know that the deadly radiation not only failed to melt me, but also forcibly ruptured my genetic lock, awakening the [Nuclear Fury].
I rode back to the old camp in her heavily armored vehicle.
Those two scoundrels were still arrogantly bullying me: "I have the Blood Blade Gang backing me! The big shots are coming soon, you're dead!"
I sneered and slapped them away.
Idiots, look back! Your so-called powerful backer is kneeling in the vehicle, lighting my cigarette.

"Starting price for my wife—one dollar!" James announced, pointing at the dog cage where I lay curled up like a dying animal.

The crowd at the wedding erupted in laughter. "Five dollars!" "Ten!" They threw bids like trash, mocking the woman who used to be Mrs. Windsor. Lillian, wearing my stolen necklace, poked me through the bars with a metal rod. "Look at you, Aurora. You're nothing but filth." I closed my eyes, accepting my fate. My husband had sold me. My dignity was gone.

Suddenly, a cold, authoritative voice cut through the noise.

"Two hundred million."

Silence fell over the hall. Every head turned. Walking through the doors was a man radiating power—Louis Smith, the newly found heir to the Smith empire. The man I had pushed away ten years ago. James turned pale. "Mr. Smith... this is a joke..."

Louis didn't even look at him. He walked straight to the cage, his eyes burning with a terrifying mix of rage and tenderness. He ripped the lock off with his bare hands and pulled me into his arms. James tried to block him. "She's my wife! You can't just take her!"

Louis smirked, his voice dripping with ice. "Your wife? I just bought her. She's mine now."

When the apocalypse came, my materialistic ex-girlfriend not only complained that I only knew how to play games, but also conspired with relatives to poison me, cruelly steal my superpower crystal core, and degrade me into a hopeless cripple!
She thought that by taking away my power she could curry favor with the powerful and live a carefree life, but little did she know that not only did I not die, but the "League of Legends max level system" in my mind had actually completed its ultimate upgrade!
Sylas uses his ultimate to regain his power, Pyke's X-shaped slash breaks his enemy's limbs; a horde of 100,000 zombies presses in, and the whole city is in despair, when I descend from the sky with my treasure girl who is my life partner!
Pantheon's slam, Miss Fortune's barrage, Ziggs's nuke... Five LOL ultimate moves in a row wiped out the entire field, evaporating 100,000 zombies in one minute and directly ascending to the throne of the wasteland god!
Looking at my stunningly beautiful and god-level support character whom I had spoiled rotten, my ex-girlfriend, who had fallen into the mire, was filled with remorse. She knelt in the sewage, kowtowing and crying, begging to be a foot-washing maid.
I looked down at them and sneered, "Sorry, my five-player squad is already full."

In my previous life, an extreme cold apocalypse descended.

I risked my life nine times over to evolve into a high-tier Ice Plains Wolf, and just to find a piece of meat to keep my fiancée alive, I frantically tore apart wild beasts in the snow. Yet I was betrayed by her and her lover—they cut out my heart with an ice blade!

When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn half a month before the apocalypse!

Time was running out. To awaken the highest tier of beast-human form, I needed an enormous amount of meat to provide energy.

Sports cars? Ocean-view villas? Billions in assets? I wanted none of it!

I immediately dumped my manipulative fiancée, liquidated all my assets into cash, bought a fully enclosed fortified meat processing plant, and frantically stockpiled hundreds of thousands of tons of high-calorie raw meat!

The extreme cold arrived as expected, turning the entire city into a frozen hellscape.

The scumbag pair who betrayed me in my previous life now knelt outside my impregnable airlock door, crying pitifully and begging me for scraps.

I stepped out of my fortress and looked down at them with claws sharp enough to tear through steel:

"Want meat? Go to hell and eat dirt!"

At the Moonshadow Council, my fiancé knelt before the throne with his new lover and asked permission to marry her—while keeping me as his nameless second mate.

He mocked me for having no parents and no family, claiming that if I left the Silver Fir Pack, I would not even have a place to sleep.

I removed my engagement ring and looked toward the throne. No one knew that the Lycan King seated above us was my own brother—the brother who had entered this world with me.

And my brother had already set down his goblet.

“Are you certain you want to treat her this way?”

My mate—Alpha Jasper—knelt on one knee, proposing to me at my birthday party when Sienna Burrows suddenly appeared.
She was his fated mate once. His first love.
Dressed in the exact same backless red gown I was wearing, she stood there like a queen, regal and untouchable.
She let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Hah. Alpha Jasper, no matter how perfect a copy may be, it will never be me."
Alpha Jasper didn’t even spare her a glance. Instead, he turned to me, gently taking my left hand in his. His voice was deep, filled with emotion.
"Cynthia, will you marry me?"

In my past life, I drained my own dragon blood to help my husband, Flark, ascend into a dragon. I nearly sacrificed my life to bear him our dragon-beast son, Fris. Yet, all I received in return was ruthless betrayal.
Flark personally brought me a cup of deadly poison, sneering that my lowborn white snake blood had stained the noble dragon race.
Even Fris, the son I raised with my own hands, threw my true body to the giant eagles without a shred of mercy. He cold-bloodedly declared that only my half-sister, Bryn, was worthy of all the glory.
As my flesh was torn apart in agonizing despair, I died harboring endless hatred—only to be reborn on the day of the marriage selection.
This time, Flark got his wish. He publicly abandoned me, joyfully choosing to marry my half-sister Bryn, foolishly believing he could use her power to leap into dragonhood.
What he would never know was that I—the one he so trashily threw away—was the true possessor of the pure Dragon Bloodline.

“You are a danger to my health, AVIANA, let me have you,” Duncan drawled, his hands on my waist, pulling me against his hard member.

“I…I… “ i stammered. Even though I knew n was getting myself into dangerous territory, I couldn't stop myself from wanting him. Ever part of my body was screaming for his touch and I could no longer deny his touch.

“Tell me yes, let me pleasure your body,” he whispered against my neck,”

I moaned out involuntarily and before I could stop myself, I yelled,
“Please, fuck me!”

Aviana Grey is not just another woman with a vendetta—she’s a sharp, relentless detective who spent nearly two decades chasing shadows, determined to uncover the truth about her mother’s murder at the hands of the Iron Vine Mafia. After years of preparation, she finally gains the opportunity to infiltrate the Mafia, but her plans take an unexpected turn when she meets Duncan, their ruthless leader and Alpha werewolf. As she delves deeper into their world, she discovers secrets that blur the line between human and monster—and finds herself irresistibly drawn to the one man she’s sworn to destroy.

Victoria discovered that I hadn't submitted any supplemental medical expense claims for two weeks.
She assumed I had finally been disciplined and had given up what she called "the exploitative nature of the lower class."
Little did she know, my backpack held the signed divorce papers and my mother's death certificate.
As I turned to leave, I was still wearing the discounted trench coat she'd casually given me three years ago when we got married.
What she didn't know was that I, a deep-sea geology genius from MIT, willingly endured three years of her humiliation and ridiculous rules, just so my mother could stay in her conglomerate's private hospital to prolong her life.
Now, my mother has died because of unpaid bills , and even her ashes are carried by me in a cheap canvas bag.
Now that my loved one is dead, there's no need for me to continue being her obstructive dog on Wall Street. The lives she owed with those approval forms, I will settle with the collapse of her entire conglomerate empire.

I’m the CEO of a tech company—and the creator of our bionic human project.

Three years ago, my wife was dying after a car crash. She begged me to “save” her with my technology. I said yes.

I poured over a hundred million into R&D and built her a bionic body that could last for decades. I covered every checkup, every calibration, every outrageous repair bill.

What I got back was her contempt, her affair, and her reckless abuse of the body I gave her.

I warned her again and again to protect it. She called it control—and called another man freedom.

She even slammed my head into a coffee table to shield him.

That was the moment I decided: no more repairs, no more payments.

She chose her path. She pays for it.

To pay off my father’s debt, I married a wheelchair-bound vampire duke’s heir.
He couldn’t hear me or answer, so I told him everything—my heartbreaks, humiliations, and deepest secrets.
I thought no one would ever know.
Then one morning, he regained his hearing and asked, “Who did you say you had a crush on last night? Say it again.”

My wife brought her first love back to my cloud penthouse for an affair, and even attempted to steal the corporation's core code. Caught red-handed, she showed no remorse, instead scolding me condescendingly: "He is my guest! How dare you touch him?!"

Without even raising an eyelid, I snapped my fingers. Heavy combat robots instantly ripped apart the first love's cybernetic spine, and a beam of energy burned the man into a cripple. I then threw down a disownment agreement, cutting off her elite privileges with one click, and tossed the two of them like garbage into the lower-class slums drenched in acid rain.

"Trash belongs in the trash can." I swirled my wine glass, sneering.

The apocalypse is not a natural disaster, but a man-made one.

When the T-virus swept through London like a curse, and when my former love and brothers tore off their disguises at the last moment, I realized that the most terrifying thing in this world has never been zombies, but the human heart.

They thought they had tricked me, that abandoning me would get them a ticket to the safe house.

They don't know that I was reborn.

In my past life, my kindness became a weapon in the hands of demons; in this life, I will make the betrayers send themselves to hell.

I have been tormented by a strange illness for ten years, with blood draws and surgeries being commonplace.
My mother always encouraged me, saying, "Nian Nian, bear with it a little longer. The pain will be over soon. Mom and Dad are doing this to save your life."
Hoping to be cured as soon as possible, I gritted my teeth and endured ten years of painful treatments, even if it meant living like a lab subject.
That was until I accidentally overheard my parents’ cruel conversation:
“Increase the blood draw even more. It doesn’t matter if she dies—she was only picked up to save Ying Ying. As long as she has a breath left, she owes it to us.”
At that moment, I finally understood: I was never sick at all.
The decade of daily treatments were nothing but a way to use me to extend the life of their biological daughter.

Beta Malcolm and I were at the Civil Affairs Bureau, ready to register our marriage. We were just waiting to take the final photo when he got a phone call and left.
He abandoned me right there at the marriage registration office, leaving me stuck in an impossible situation.
I called him—no answer.
I messaged him—no reply.
In the end, I had no choice but to call his childhood sweetheart’s number. Beta Malcolm answered.
“Rowena, can you stop being so annoying? Queenie twisted her ankle—I need to take care of her today. Stop calling and waking her up. We’ll reschedule the registration.”
I bit my lip and murmured into the phone,
“This makes it the seventh time we’ve rescheduled.”
“So what? The Civil Affairs Bureau isn’t going anywhere—it’s not like it’s going to disappear!”
My face was blank, but it felt like my heart was being carved open.
A staff member looked at me with pity and asked,
“Alpha Rowena, are we still doing this?”
I gave a small nod.
“Yes. Let’s go through with it.”

Over the weekend, Alpha Kennard—my husband—and I were invited to attend a charity auction.
During the bidding, my husband's Beta, Joanna Morton, and I both set our sights on the same ruby necklace.
I was prepared to compete fairly, Until Alpha Kennard made the ceremonial bid for her.
"Queenie, you're nothing more than a dog I keep at home. What right do you have to compete with me?"
Just as everyone else withdrew from the bidding, I snapped my fingers at the auctioneer.
"Whatever Alpha Kennard offers—I'll outbid him by… one dollar."

Last life, my girlfriend was trapped in a fire. I ran in, took the burns, and dragged her out alive.
When she woke up, she pointed at me first: “He’s the arsonist.”

Only later did I learn the truth—she’d been sleeping with her boss. They set the fire for an insurance payout and pinned everything on me.
Police investigations, the company cutting ties, the media turning me into a monster—I couldn’t prove a thing. I died in the rain, discarded like trash.

This time, I didn’t expose them. I didn’t call the cops.
On the night of the fire, I left early—then staged a robbery and walked myself into a police station, building the cleanest alibi possible.

They lit the match on schedule, trapped themselves, and waited for me to charge in.
As the flames grew and I never showed, she called—furious—demanding I come now.

I glanced at the officer taking my statement and said into the phone, calmly:
“Sorry. I can’t leave right now.”