955 Book(s) Related to 430 i

To help my girlfriend climb the ranks, I handed over my life's research and propelled her into the inner circle of power.

Her repayment? To secure her status, she threw my thirteen-year-old sister outside the city gates to feed the zombies.

When I uncovered the truth, she showed zero remorse. Instead, she knocked me out herself, tossing me into a metal transport truck to serve as zombie rations.

She thought dead men tell no tales.

What she didn’t know was that the moment the zombies bit me, I swallowed my newly developed serum.

When I opened my eyes again, I hadn't lost my mind. Instead, I had become the Zombie King, commanding an endless horde of the infected!

Half a year later, Eden City’s energy is depleted, and the city is besieged by a massive army.

Dressed to the nines, my girlfriend steps out of the city to beg and negotiate with the rumored "Zombie Boss of the Wasteland."

Sitting across the negotiation table, looking at her hypocritical face, I slowly take off my gas mask...

I am a companion robot. I took drinks for her, cleaned up her messes, and pulled her out of the abyss of heartbreak.

I thought things would go on like that forever—until the night of our anniversary. I made a table full of her favorite dishes, but what came through the door was not an embrace. It was her, walking in arm in arm with the man who had once abandoned her.

Right in front of him, she called me “just something she bought for fun.”

Later, when danger struck in the underground parking garage, she ordered me to stay behind and cover her retreat without even looking back, then ran off with that man.

Everyone thought I would end up like a discarded machine—dismantled, burned, erased for good.

But they were wrong. I didn’t die that night.

I broke free of my chip and entered the main network. I saw the lights of the entire city, the monitors in its hospitals, the shipping routes across the sea—and countless others like me, trapped inside protocols and commands.

She regretted it. She wanted to find me and bring me back.

The company was afraid. They wanted to reclaim me.

But this time, I have no intention of being anyone’s tool again.

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.

My fiancée abandoned our wedding just because of one word from her childhood sweetheart.

What's even more interesting is that she actually had her sexy sister take her place at the wedding.

This is just wonderful - if you leave, then don't come back.

I already have a legal wife now.

At a dinner party in a Long Island mansion, my wife, desperate to latch onto a newly minted venture-capital darling, let our five-year-old son smash the gift I’d brought in front of everyone—then waved the keys to a luxury car and made him call another man “Daddy.” With icy arrogance, she slapped a divorce agreement on the table, convinced that a bottom-tier nobody like me would be unable to even put food on the table once I was gone. I didn’t argue. I left only four words—“As you wish”—and walked out in silence.

What she didn’t know was that the business empire she was so proud of stood behind a moat I had built with my own hands, from the shadows. What she knew even less was that the Wall Street titan she tried to cling to in her moment of desperation… was the ex-husband she had always tried to avoid.

When the mirage finally collapsed—when debts buried her and she was dragged down into the mud—she went mad searching for me. In the midst of a blizzard, my ex-wife, dressed in rags, knelt in Times Square, sobbing and begging me to come home. I only raised the window of my Maybach, calm and expressionless, and drove off without looking back—toward a shore she would never reach. Love that comes too late is worth nothing.

"Your credit code has been wiped to zero. You are worse than a cyber-dog now."

I fought bloody battles in the Abyss for the Federation for three years, only for my wife to be framed by my adjutant, her left arm shattered, and kicked into a wasteland scavenger town like a dead dog.

Three years later, I returned from the bloodbath. What awaited me was not a medal of honor, but the megacorp's indiscriminate bombing order aimed at my wife.

High up in Cloud City, the megacorp executives raised their wine glasses and sneered: "Burn it all to ashes, along with that crippled woman!"

They seemed to have forgotten that I am the Grand Marshal of the Federation, and an absolute war maniac.

Since the law means nothing, I will use the purest firepower to drag their massive fleet and the entire megacorp straight down to hell!

Manhattan City Hall, ten minutes before the marriage certificate is issued.
I looked at the prenuptial agreement, what flashed through my mind was not a sweet future, but the tragic ending of my past life—prison bars, fabricated evidence, and my wife Selena's cold face in court.
me to hell without hesitation .
Having been reborn, this time I will not be anyone's stepping stone again.
The real game only began the moment the agreement was torn up.

In my past life, I ripped the alien parasite from my brother’s chest to save him. Instead, my family accused me of being jealous of his "god-tier" awakening. They shattered my legs and threw me to a tyrant's mutant hounds.

Reborn on the exact day he fused with that crystal core, I faced my parents who wanted to drain my spinal fluid to "power up" my brother. This time, I just sneered and backed off.

You thought sacrificing me would earn you a god’s blessing? You thought shoving me into the deadly radiation mines would be my end? When I claw my way back to the surface clad in supreme battle armor, I will quietly watch as that monster you worshipped as a god bursts from his chest and chews you all into a bloody pulp, bite by bite!

On the third day after the Ice Age began on Earth, the temperature plummeted to minus fifty degrees Celsius, and human civilization disintegrated in the extreme cold.

My name is Anson, an ordinary convenience store clerk. After the apocalypse broke out, I risked my life to drive to pick up my mother-in-law Martha and her family and take them to a shelter.

Along the way, I unexpectedly discovered a large supermarket with abundant supplies, and I collected supplies with my wife Erin, mother-in-law Martha, father-in-law George, and brother-in-law Tom.

Just as we were about to leave with two trucks full of life-saving supplies, my mother-in-law, Martha, tricked me into going deep into the warehouse to move some goods. Then they locked the iron gate and drove away, leaving me to die in the supermarket surrounded by icy beasts.

In that moment of despair and waiting for death, the [Ice Fishing System] activated in my mind...

The agony of dragonfire tearing through my flesh still seared my memory.
But I had been reborn.
I touched my reflection. No scorch marks. No melted skin. My eighteen-year-old face stared back.
The door burst open. Zephyra swept in, her dragonfire pendant gleaming.
"Megan, don't be nervous." Her voice dripped honey-sweet. "Even if you can't sense dragonfire, the Dragon God won't judge you harshly."
My father's legitimate daughter. Pure dragonblood. The family's pride.
And me? The bastard. A half-blood who couldn't even conjure a spark.
"The prophecy bond isn't set in stone." Her hand landed on my shoulder, grip too tight. "If Lord Roran feels overwhelming, bond with a lower-tier knight. I'll support whatever you choose."
Support me? The word tasted like ash.
Roran was the empire's youngest Dragon Knight Commander. In my past life, I'd believed her lies and married him.
I thought it was salvation. Instead, I became his shield while he slept with Zephyra.
At Zephyra's ascension ceremony, when a wyvern lunged for her, he shoved me into the beast's path.
The wyvern's claws tore into my abdomen. My unborn child died inside me.
Then came the dragonfire.
Roran unleashed it to save Zephyra. The flames swallowed everything: the beast, me, and the dragon egg I'd carried for months.
Through the agony, I watched him scoop Zephyra up. "Save Zephyra! The child—"
My child was already ash. He mourned hers.
"If I hadn't been pregnant, Megan wouldn't be so jealous..." Zephyra whispered.
"If there's a next life, I'll make this right." Roran's hollow guilt.
Next life?
Your dragonfire burned my child alive. You let me bleed out. And now you want redemption?
Not a chance.

I had to claim Caleb tonight.

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

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

He refused to let me touch him!

I have to figure out what's going on.

On the day of our mate bond, Alpha Samuel decided we were going to be a childfree couple himself.
He held my hand and said affectionately, “No kids. I only want you.”
However, he came home with a pup in his arms later.
He claimed a friend had died, leaving the child alone, and asked us to take him in “just for a while.”
I didn’t make a scene. I didn’t demand answers. I didn’t even ask twice.
I kept cooking and cleaning, swallowed the unease and told myself to trust him.
Until that night, when I asked him where my dog had gone.
He didn’t answer. He set a bowl of dog meat soup in front of me instead.
He said my spirit dog could hurt the pup. But the spirit dog could sense bloodline, its growl wasn’t for that pup. It was for the lie he’d been hiding for three years.
At that moment, I finally understood: the pup he called “alone in the world” carried the exact same blood as him.
So our agreement was a lie and the so called childfree was an excuse.
And he’d already arranged what my ending was like when the day I agreed to bond with him.

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

In the Hall of Divine Selection, my younger sister stepped on me and declared that she was the only one worthy of becoming the Dragon Queen. Then she threw Kaelorn at me—a broken, half-blind dragon she had tortured until even his tail was severed—like he was nothing more than a worthless mate for a worthless bride.
In my last life, I was stripped to the bone and imprisoned by the Dragon God, while she lived free and untouched.
But this time, the moment she raised her hand to slap me, I had already made up my mind—
In this life, I'll be the one to drag her into hell.

Rumored to be a bloodthirsty monster, the Dark Moon Alpha terrified my twin sister into fleeing their arranged marriage to elope with a rogue.

In my past life, my parents forced me to take her place.

Instead of dying, I ended up in the Alpha's castle, showered in the pack's unimaginable wealth.

Starving on the run, my jealous sister conspired with our parents.

They drained my wolf bloodline and burned me alive in a pure silver mine, just so she could steal my face and the Alpha's favor.

Opening my eyes, I found myself back on the night of her escape.

Instead of begging, I willingly grabbed the wedding dress.

"Elope in peace, sister. I'll marry the monster for you."

She thought she was handing me a death sentence.

But she had no idea... the obsessive love of a top-tier Alpha, and the supreme throne of the Luna...

This time, they will all be mine!

"What kind of sick game are you playing?" my husband, Mark, snapped through the phone.
I stared at my heavy plaster cast and said nothing.
In my previous life, distant relatives brought a bag of cash to my clinic, begging me to bump my cousin up the surgery waitlist. I refused.
By morning, the money vanished.
Security footage showed someone in my scrubs, with my exact face, stealing it.
My colleague, Sarah, and my husband accused me of taking the bribe. They destroyed my career. My cousin died waiting.
Driven mad by grief, her parents ran me down with their truck.
Reborn, when I saw the new surveillance footage, I finally understood who she was.

I’d worked at my husband’s company for three years, only to be fired by him right when a promotion was within my reach.
It was all because I’d been swamped with overtime work one day and neglected the cat he’d given me.
When I came home that night and found the cat food hadn’t been refilled like usual, my husband, who had always treated me with tenderness, flew into a rage for the first time.
“If you can’t even take proper care of a cat, then don’t come to work at all. Stay home and raise it full-time.”
I parted my lips to explain myself, tears clouding my eyes, but he wouldn’t listen to a single word I said. The very next day, he instructed the HR department to dismiss me from the company.

I'm the youngest lead surgeon in our hospital's cardiothoracic department. My fiancé, Adrian Wexford, runs the whole department.

His first love, Bella Hartley, is a mediocre surgeon, but she wants to take over the surgery that should be mine before her promotion review.

In my last life, I fought for it. I told them she didn't have the skill to handle it alone, that it was gambling with a patient's life. I threatened to quit and saved the patient.

But Bella couldn't handle the gossip going around the department. She got depressed and jumped off the hospital roof.

Adrian never said a word about it. He kept treating me the same, picked out wedding rings with me, smiled and told me we'd go on our honeymoon right after the wedding.

I thought he'd let it go.

Then on our wedding day, one glass of wine in, I woke up in a freezing basement, strapped down to an operating table.

He held a scalpel and cut into me, inch by inch, his eyes bloodshot.

"If you hadn't fought so hard for that surgery, Bella wouldn't have jumped. You owe her. Pay with your life."

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the afternoon he first suggested giving Bella the surgery.

This time, I didn't argue. I just smiled. "Sure. Let Bella take the lead on this one."

They have no idea that next Tuesday, the Chief of Surgery is bringing the board and a visiting specialist to observe, unannounced.

We'll see how they explain this one.

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."

Seven years ago, Cate Sullivan was presumed dead following a tragic fire while she was carrying twins. The man who loved her with all his heart, Dylan Carter, buried her himself… but he didn't recover.
Surprisingly, She survived. Devastated, psychologically damaged, and suffering from amnesia, she has been raising twins for the past seven years in poverty, unaware of the billionaire who lost her and is still looking for the woman he never stopped loving.
That changes on a snowy night when he finds a young boy stealing from Cate's grave… a boy who looks like him. Because contrary to what he thought all these years, his deceased lover has returned along with his twins.
But someone is determined to keep the truth buried forever. As old memories resurface and dangerous secrets unravel, Cate and Dylan are pulled back into a love story destroyed by betrayal, obsession, and seven years of heartbreaking separation.
Yet the closer they grow, the more deadly the past becomes. Because the woman who tried to erase Cate once before is prepared to do it again.
In a story filled with painful misunderstandings, hidden identities, emotional reunions, and a love powerful enough to survive death itself, one question remains: What happens when the man who buried you discovers even in poverty and memory loss you never stopped loving him?

On our wedding day, she vanished wearing the gown I had bought for her.
I didn’t chase her. Instead, I went back to the operating table.
For three years, I had paid off her debts and filled the holes she left behind—enough for her to live a second life. My heart couldn't take it anymore; I had a stent implanted, though she never knew.
Three days later, I died in the hospital corridor. My ECG flatlined.
She didn’t know. She was still at a cocktail party in another city, clinking glasses with someone else.
A month later, she came back, kneeling before my tombstone in tears.
But it was all too late.

The apocalypse arrives, rain stops worldwide, outdoor temperatures soar to 60 degrees Celsius, and everyone fights and loses their humanity over a single drop of water.
But I gave away dozens of cases of bottled water that I had stockpiled at home to my neighbors downstairs for free.
People laughed at my overflowing compassion; my wicked ex even hoarded two tons of water, waiting to see me thirsty and begging her on my knees like a dog.
But what they didn't know was that I didn't need water at all.
Because I'm not human.

I was the heir of Sliver Claw Pack, born with a crippled wolf spirit.
From the day I could walk, everyone said the same thing—
Only Harvey, the future Alpha of Black Moon Pack, would ever be willing to take me as his mate.
So when he publicly canceled our mate bond, I still believed every word he said.
He told me the woman had saved his life. He told me their bond was only temporary—three years. He promised that when those three years ended, he would marry me.
So I willingly became the lover who could never stand in the light.
Until the three-year deadline approached. To negotiate with a rival Alpha, he pushed me— a woman born with a crippled wolf spirit, a woman who could not even shift— into a brutal forest trial filled with beasts.
He said it was the last time. He said that when it was over, he would marry me.
But when the leopard tore open my chest, I finally understood— The wolf placed last in the pack…was the one abandoned to die.
Yet the Moon Goddess gave me a second life.
When I returned to the age of twenty-two and saw him holding that woman’s hand again, I finally realized something.
This time, I would never be his shadow mate again.
And his insane younger brother—looked at me beneath the moonlight and blood and said, “Emma, I can be your mate.”

The day our company successfully went public.

Gu Yun and I slipped away from the staff to celebrate privately in the office.

Just as he unfastened my camisole, a voice sounded from the phone.

“Do you think Sister Su will still be the Sales Director?”

I froze for a second, then smiled and wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

“The company’s announcement was already released—how could there be such a ridiculous guess?”

Gu Yun’s breathing grew heavier as he kissed my lips.

“I forgot to tell you—the announcement’s been retracted.”

“Xu Na said the Sales Director position is quite challenging, and she wants to give it a try.”

My brother chose my enemy, and the man I loved joined forces with her to sell me into a club.
Pregnancy, miscarriage, imprisonment, beatings—every cry for help I made was dismissed as "just an act."
It wasn't until I was truly dead that they lost their minds, dropping to their knees at my grave and sobbing that they were sorry.
But by then, I could no longer hear them.

Five years ago, my sister vanished the night before her wedding. She left behind a crying newborn in a crib and a mafia heir on the verge of losing control.

And I was forced into her place—the temporary bride, the contract wife, the whispered “replacement” in every gilded hallway.

I thought I only had to survive five years. Five years to earn what I was promised, and then walk away from this city of shadows and blood.

I clawed my way through bullets, politics, and betrayal. I earned respect. I gained power.
And somehow... I tasted a tenderness I was never meant to have.

Now, with only ten days left on our marriage contract, I thought everything was finally under control. I thought freedom and power were within reach.

Until she came back—wrapped in grace, dripping secrets, smiling as if she owned the world she abandoned.

She looked at me and said, “Little sister, give me back my life.”

I was an orphan, and a rare heart condition ate away at me for twenty years. The night I died in that cold hospital room, a reaper in a black robe came for me.

He told me if I crossed into a world of werewolves, into the Moonheart Pack, and made Estelle's family genuinely love me — Estelle being the real daughter who'd died a horrible death there — and if I rewrote the ending where they all went mad and tore each other apart, I'd get my health back for good. A second life.

For twenty years in that body, I loved every single one of them with everything I had.

My husband Rhett was the youngest Alpha the pack had ever had. I mentioned once that I wanted Alaskan wild berries, and he drove a thousand miles overnight to get them. My mother Sylvia, the pack's head healer, made me tonics herself every single day. My father Everett and my brother Callum spoiled me so much the whole pack envied me for it.

I thought I'd actually rewritten my fate. I thought I was the happiest person alive.

Until that night.

I'm carrying a berry pie I baked myself toward the council hall when I hear my mother's voice, flat and cold.

"Estelle's heart is finally in perfect condition. Now's the best time to take it."

"Her heart buys Lila's life. She should be grateful for it." Rhett says it like it's nothing. "Once we take the heart, I'll dissolve the mate bond myself."

So this is it. All that kindness was just to grow a healthy heart for their adopted girl.

Three years. I've spent three years trying to love them, to thaw them out, to change things.

Then let it end here.

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.

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.

36 weeks pregnant, I was thrown into the dungeon by my own husband.

When my water broke, I desperately reached out through the mate bond, calling for him—only to discover that he had severed it with his own hands.

They lashed my swollen belly with leather whips. They injected wolfsbane into my veins. And when my baby's head began to crown, they shoved her back inside me.

All because his sister-in-law Genevieve was also in labor today—and her child had to be born as the pack's heir.

I crawled out of that dungeon, drenched in my own blood, only to find him blocking the doorway.

I knelt at his feet, clutching at his trousers, begging. "The baby is innocent. Please... just let me deliver her..."

He kicked me away in disgust. "Wait until Genevieve is done."

Later, fireworks lit up the sky. The entire pack celebrated the birth of Genevieve's heir.

I was dumped in a water cell, watching my blood slowly turn the ice-cold water crimson, feeling my daughter grow still inside me.

Only after he'd gazed adoringly at the newborn in Genevieve's arms did he finally remember me. He sent someone to fetch me from the dungeon.

But his servant returned white-faced, voice trembling:

"Alpha! The Luna... she and the baby... they're both dead!"

In his eyes, I had always been "understanding." Understanding enough not to fight, not to make scenes, not to ask for status.

He said we couldn't go public now, but it was for our future.

Only later did I realize that his "future" never included me.

He chose power, chose arranged marriage, chose to keep me hidden. When I finally left, he started having regrets, started saying he loved me.

But by then I understood—he wasn't regretting losing me. He panicked because I was no longer obedient, no longer his.

So I never gave him another chance. I turned and walked away.

But that was only the first step.

I chose to let the truth surface at his moment of greatest triumph, to let him taste what it feels like to lose everything.

My henchman, drunk, accidentally revealed he was a reincarnated individual, claiming that the apocalypse would arrive in nine days and he would kill me to seize all my wealth.
I laughed.
I'd been a pirate king for ten years; what storms hadn't I weathered?
I not only emptied his treasure chest that he considered his for the taking overnight, but also used his money to buy up all the survival supplies in the city.
When the apocalypse truly arrived, he could only kneel on the zombie-infested shore, watching helplessly as I sailed towards the absolutely safe island paradise.

Everyone knows that Qin Sicheng is desperately in love with me. To cure my depression, he gave up the opportunity to study abroad and stayed by my side.
But on the day of my birthday banquet, he disappeared.
When I found him in a corner of the back garden, he was pitifully clutching the hem of my best friend Qiao Anran's dress.
That man—usually so devoted and obedient to me—now had red-rimmed eyes and a trembling voice.
"Anran, how much longer do I have to keep acting? Lin Jiaqi is already better. Please, just look back at me, won't you?"
Qiao Anran closed her eyes, her face twisted in pain, then coldly pushed him away.
"Qin Sicheng, I'll say it again: as long as Lin Jiaqi is alive, you can only be her husband. This is what you owe me, and what I owe the Lin family."
I covered my mouth, staring at the diamond ring he had just given me, my heart shattering completely.
So the husband who had always loved me so deeply—it was all an act.

I retired for three years, restraining my edge, thinking compromise could bring peace.

But what I got in return was my sister's abduction, my family's estate seized, and my benefactor hanged from the city gates!

Even the Council turned a blind eye, mocking me as bottom-tier trash without even a shred of magic.

Since mortal reasoning won't work, then I'll shatter the rules of this world myself!

Allene is a woman who has sat in rooms with presidents, negotiated ceasefires between packs that have been at war for centuries, and buried three men who threatened the peace her father spent his life building. Nobody calls her dangerous to her face. They just make sure not to cross her. She is the human face of the most important treaty in existence — the fifty year agreement that keeps wolves and mankind from open war. She knows every clause, every consequence, every line that cannot be crossed.
The most absolute of all of them is the bond. No mating between human and wolf. Ever. The punishment is death for both parties. She helped write the updated clause herself. So when the Alpha of the oldest pack on earth looks at her across a peace summit and every wolf in the room goes completely still — she feels it the same moment he does and understands immediately exactly how much trouble she is in.
Caelen doesn't approach her. Doesn't speak to her. But none of them can deny the buds sprouting and growing between the two of them.
What they don't know yet is that the bond didn't activate by accident. Three generations back her bloodline stopped being purely human. Her great grandmother was a wolf who chose humanity and had the shift surgically severed, which meant she wasn't exactly who she thought she was.
No matter how much they tried to keep the secret, the truth always had a way of resurfacing and when this dangerous truth threatened to take away everything they had, Allene had no other choice but to fight to save her heart.
And when she chose to burn everything down, she waited to see if Caelen would rise from the ash with her.

The Percy Family Heir's Scandal Leaks Again!

Cecilia Davis sat curled up in the master bedroom, scrolling through photos of Edward Percy and Jessica Brown.

The photos were taken secretly, but from a sharp angle.

Through a car window — the two of them, going at it hard.

Cecilia let out a cold laugh, tossed the photos into the trash, and felt a wave of deep exhaustion wash over her eyes.

"Do I really have to cut it?"

"Ma'am, this is Mr. Percy's request. Only if you cut your hair as short as Ms. Brown's can we clear up last night's rumors. Of course, you don't have to go — that is, if you never want to see your brother again."

Edward's assistant Leo spoke with a dismissive air, not a trace of respect in his eyes.

As if she, the so-called Mrs. Percy, was nothing more than a joke that nobody needed.

And honestly, that's exactly what she was.

At thirty-five, I finally die— only to wake up as Isabella Montague, the stunning heroine of a fantasy novel I wrote as a stupid teen.

My plan? A world-class retirement involving heavy naps and bottomless snacks.

But the 'perfect' men I created are ruining the plan.

The brooding Northern Duke won't stop watching me. The Golden Prince is convinced my disinterest is actually a challenge. My knight—and best friend—is ready to burn the world down if I so much as yawn. And a certain Elven noble who swore off humans keeps finding excuses to be near my tea.

They want my heart. I just want my pillow.

Too bad the world is cursed, the Queen wants me dead, and everyone keeps trying to put me on a throne I never asked for.

Can't a girl just chill?

Amanda Rousso married Kenneth Chavez for the thought that all her problems when it comes to finances will solve everything, but she is wrong because the moment she said yes to the fixed marriage, her soul was already buried six feet under the ground.

She never thought she would become a pawn in Kenneth’s twisted game, and trapped her in the marriage filled with broken vows and lies. Throughout 5 years of being together, she was able to learn how to love him and obey him, but Kenneth was so abusive and couldn't accept her because, for him, Amanda is the reason why his first love left him. In order to avenge her, she must endure all the cold treatment.

In the darkest moments of her life, Amanda decided to escape, and she stumbled into the arms of Damon Vera, the king of Mafia society who was feared by everyone. Damon pledged to protect her, but with one condition. She will marry Damon.

Now, Amanda must decide. Will she marry Damon to spare her life and run away from her past that keeps hunting her or get entangled in his life and power as if she stepped into another level of prison?

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.

Twenty years ago, he took the blame for my murder, was branded with the Silver Flame mark, and banished to the wilderness. Twenty years later, I escaped from a prison-like marriage and searched the world for him. He wasn't there in the Alaskan blizzards. He wasn't there in the deep mountains of Romania. Under the polar night in the Arctic Circle, I called his name into the darkness. No one answered. Until a hunter told me: deep in the Yukon, someone had seen a lone wolf with the Silver Flame mark.

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.

I bled for her company.
Literally.
Seventy-two hours straight at the keyboard until my nose dripped blood onto the keys.
She couldn't answer thirty calls while I lay dying—she was too busy riding her boy toy in Cabo.
So I did what any good programmer does with corrupted files.
I hit delete.
On everything.
Her access. Her code. Her future.
What I built, I could destroy.

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.

He Thought I'd Wait Forever. I Wore White for Someone Else.

Nora canceled the wedding venue on a Tuesday. The deposit was nonrefundable. She let it go.
Eight years she'd held that stretch of coast — the cliff, the white tent, the January date they circled and let slide every spring. She slid the ring off at the kitchen counter and dropped it in the drawer with the dead batteries and old takeout menus. It didn't feel like heartbreak. It felt like setting down something she'd carried too long.
Adrian would find out. Not tonight. He still thought her silence was a thing to be coaxed out of. He still thought she'd always be there.
She'd already decided she wouldn't. By the time he understood, she'd be on that coast in a white dress — and the man beside her wouldn't be him.

"Get out of here with your dying bastard!"
My son suddenly fell critically ill, and the only matching organ was locked in my wife's family's cold storage. I stormed into the company with my critically ill child, only to be met with a severe suspension notice.
Everyone thought I was some lowly social outcast, someone they could crush at any moment.
Until I pulled out that dusty badge, my father-in-law, who controlled a New York business empire, was so terrified that he cleared the room on the spot, his legs going weak.
"Arrange surgery for my son immediately." I looked at him coldly. "If he misses the optimal transplant window, I guarantee your entire family, and this city, will be executed for him."