869 Book(s) Related to HATE ME

My boyfriend pulled off a drone-sky proposal that lit up the entire city.
Crowds cheered, “Congratulations to Mr. Gunson and Mrs. Gunson—at last, true lovers become family.”
But the woman curled in his arms was his secretary.
The “me” in their mouths had long since turned to white bones beneath a mound of earth.

Married for seven years, I lived my life like an absolute joke.
For the sake of my brother, my wife personally uprooted the roses I had so painstakingly cultivated. To please her uncle, my daughter pointed at my nose and called me a "bad daddy."
The entire family even held a vote to force me to donate my bone marrow. My wife, Elena, raised her hand without a second thought: "You'll just lose a little bone marrow. Liam will die without you."
In that moment, my heart died.
The surgery was a success.
As the anesthesia wore off, Elena was holding my hand tightly. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her voice trembled with remorse: "Aaron, I was a jerk before. As long as you were willing to save Liam, I will love only you for the rest of my life."
She thought I would be as pathetically grateful as a dog, begging for her affection and humbly forgiving her.
But I merely frowned in disgust and pulled my hand back as if shaking off garbage.
In the dead silence, I looked at this tearful woman before me and asked, politely yet confused:
"Excuse me, ma'am... who are you?"

I begged my mom for ten dollars, but she smashed my head with a frying pan instead.

The next day, my mother posted on a forum asking:
"Hi everyone. My eldest son lied about the end of the world just to get ten dollars. I want to ask, how can I sell him on the underground black market to pay off his younger brother's $20,000 debt?"

The moment I saw that post, any remaining love I had for them died instantly. I snapped my phone's SIM card in half.

What she didn’t know was that a world-ending acid flood would descend upon New York tomorrow.

I had begged so bitterly for that ten dollars just to trigger the Ten-Million-Fold Return System to build a three-billion-dollar Doomsday Ark.

Since she didn’t want it, I gave the throne of the Ark Queen to the female classmate who casually tossed me some charity.

My wife and my best friend had been sleeping together behind my back for a long time. Once the apocalypse hit, they completely dropped the act. While I was still stressing over how we would survive, they threw me straight into a zombie horde—just to buy themselves a few seconds to escape.
Given a second chance at life, I chose to report the impending zombie outbreak to the government, securing my place as a top-tier protected asset for the nation.
But what I didn't expect was... my wife and best friend were reborn too.

My wife is the city's renowned "Community Angel." She donates every single cent of her high salary to the poor, all to buy herself a saintly reputation.
Meanwhile, as her husband, I spend my days rolling beneath cars in a factory, covered in grease, juggling four credit cards just to keep our large family afloat.
My parents-in-law survive on the expensive, imported life-saving meds I pay for, yet they constantly mock me for being a powerless nobody;
My own children attend private schools on my dime, only to look at me with disgust and call me an embarrassment;
And my wife? Dressed in her high-end couture, she looks down at me and condescendingly urges, "For the sake of the poor children, why don't you get another part-time job and just endure it a little longer?"
Looking at this den of parasites sucking the life out of me, a sudden, overwhelming wave of disgust washed over me.
I didn't argue. I silently put away my overdue bills, packed my bags, and completely vanished from this twisted household.
Later, at the highly anticipated Annual Charity Gala, in front of the entire city, I presented her with an ultimate "gift"—

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

I'm an ancient vampire prince who's been playing human boyfriend to a demon hunter.
Big mistake.
She's completely unhinged—GPS tracking, 24/7 surveillance, the works.
When she threatens to dump me unless I surrender all my secrets, I do the unthinkable:
I actually say yes.
Too bad she doesn't know her "helpless" boyfriend has been the one keeping her alive all this time.

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

The system made me an outcast live-in husband in a werewolf clan for three years. The mission reward: 80 billion dollars. Now there's only half a day left until retirement settlement.

The arrogant pure-blood Alpha wants to force me into a deadly full moon execution array, roaring for me to kneel and die.

I don't even lift an eyelid. Right at quitting time, I directly withdraw my soul, leaving the body to the original owner "Ancestor Wolf Emperor" to handle, while I return to my Manhattan penthouse, sink into the leather sofa, and start a holographic livestream.

"Enjoy your night shift, everyone." I take a light sip of hot coffee, coldly watching the screen as the Wolf Emperor crushes that pure-blood Alpha's spine into mush with one foot, shocking my mission wife and mother-in-law into idiots.

I wish someone had taught me you can’t make your happiness all about loving one person, because what happens when you lose them? What happens to what’s left of you after they’ve taken half of you?

My name is Elysian Reign, and unlike my last name, I’m not extraordinary. My mother died when I was born, and my father drank himself to death. I graduated with a Mathematics degree of which I hardly use as a junior Network Security Engineer. I live in a one-bedroom apartment around the corner of my favorite gym, and I have a Saint Bernard named Bubbles—unextraordinarily so.

His name is Cade Sinclair, and unlike me, he is extraordinary. His mother was one of my professors before she passed, and his father is the owner of Sinclair Enterprises. Yes, as in Sinclair Enterprises: the largest firearm manufacturer for the Armed Forces.

I should’ve known better. But you never imagine that the love of your life’s own father would go through lengths to make sure his son doesn’t end up with someone like you—even if it means forcing him into an experimental military hypnosis treatment.

After three years of putting myself back together, you’d think I’d have learned my lesson. You’d think that I would’ve double checked before accepting a job for a company his father happens to own. You’d think that I would’ve changed my identity and left the country after walking in on my first day to find that Cade is the lead Network Engineer on my team—aka, my boss.

Now, how am I supposed to work with him when he’s made it his mission to make my life a living hell? How am I supposed to make him—at the very least—tolerate me when he’s been hypnotized to hate me?

He’s holding me, cradling me in his arms like something precious. His grip is firm, possessive, and in that moment, I’m not sure if I should feel terrified or… something else entirely. My heart races, and I hate that I like the way his hands feel on me. I hate that the warmth of his chest against my side makes me feel safe. I hate all of it. I open my eyes, just a sliver, enough to see his profile—his jaw clenched, his eyes focused on the road. He turns his head, and I shut my eyes again, heart pounding.

Did he see me?


Grace Miller is an orphaned first-year criminal law student. She lost her family in a mysterious accident years ago, and life has never been the same for her. For Grace, only two things matter, she hates crime, and she loves Sophia- her friend she met in a camp back in high school. So when Sophia asks, no, begs her to come to Italy with her for her 21st birthday, she just cannot say no. There is only one problem, she doesn’t know anything about the Moretti family's mafia connections.

Alessandro (Alex) Moretti is the man the world fears. He is the new don of the Moretti Mafia family, having taken over after his father's death a few years ago. Alex is feared and respected as a ruthless, arrogant, and indestructible leader. He handles the family's business with precision and has little patience for socializing, especially with people trying to gain his favor or women trying to get in the Moretti bed, left and right.

Alex is used to dealing with enemies and threats, but Grace is a challenge he didn't see coming. With a vendetta against criminals and a determination to uncover the truth about her family's mysterious death, Grace is everything Alex should avoid. But when his sister warns him to keep his distance from her due to her hate of crime and criminals, he is sure Grace is lying just to get his attention, and he makes it a challenge to break her act- even if it means that he has to put on one up himself.

But once Alex begins playing the role of a non-criminal to get closer to Grace, he just can't have enough, and it is too late, too soon.

The darkness in his eyes, the dangerous smell of alcohol in his breath, and his deathly grip keeping me bound to him made my heart pound in my chest and my body quiver beneath him. Shamefully, it wasn’t anything that I wasn’t used to, because…the things I let him do to me?

When he was frustrated, annoyed, and angry at the world, I was here to be his pound of flesh. In return, he masked the void of my loneliness because for months, that was the transaction of our relationship. He’d pin me to the wall, bend me over the counter, pull my hair, slap me, choke me, and I enjoyed every second of it because in that moment, it finally felt good to be powerless.

Irony is a funny thing. I enjoyed being in pain because it made me forget how much I was hurting.


“I warned you, doll.” His voice strikes a string of chills down the base of my spine, a reminder that all of the time in the world could pass, and he’s still not letting go.

This is where the good girl in me dies.

“You’re mine now,” he whispers.


My name is Mercy—Mercy Carter. I went to college. Got myself a useless Bachelor of Science in Mathematics degree.

His name is Marcel—Marcello Saldívar. However, at the time, I didn’t know that he, the heir to the Saldívar Mafia empire, was the man that I had blindly offered myself to.

As smart as I am, I was stupid all the times when it actually mattered. After all, he did warn me that he was dangerous. I just didn’t think he could be much worse than my thug of a brother.

I was vulnerable—naive.

My name is Mercy, and I am the Mafia’s Mercy.

My hips work shamelessly, riding his hand as he sucks bruises into my neck. This dirty secret, this indecent proposition so at odds with my buttoned-up life. The light, near-cruel flicks, rip a scream from my throat as I shatter, my eyes rolling to the back of my head, my body locking down in a bone-deep spasm.

I just had sex…with a stranger…in a dirty back alley…


"Be a good girl. Good girls get rewarded."

Bullshit.

Being a good girl doesn't get you jack shit, but a cheating husband and piles of credit card debt in your name—credit cards that he used to pamper his side piece, the mock with I really want to erase from my mind from that bitch: Maybe if you could give him a baby, he wouldn't need to go looking somewhere else."

After years of negative tests, how cruel is it that one reckless encounter with a stranger could succeed where my marriage failed? A strangled laugh escapes my lips, edging on hysteria.


The sexy man with dark eyes leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Who I am doesn't matter," he says, the words echoing in the marrow of my bones. "What matters is that you, Penelope, are carrying my descendant."

"Your…your descendant..?"

⬥ Keegan ⬥
I was sent to her.
To watch her. To protect her. And, when the order comes… to kill her.
My name is Keegan Caffery. I’m the Carter Mafia’s best hitman. I don’t miss. I don’t fail.
At least, I didn’t use to.
I don’t know what it is about her that got to me first—her mouth, her mind, or the way she looks at me like I’m not what she should fear.
I’ve had a gun to her head since I walked into her life.
She knows it.
And she still doesn’t run.
She just watches me back like she’s studying a problem she refuses to call impossible.
She’s the one variable I can’t control.
And God help me… I don’t want to.
I have an order. I have loyalty. I have a trigger.
But every time I imagine it—
I can’t stand it.
Her or me. That’s the math.
It’s a deadly equation I don’t want to solve.
⬥ Maisie ⬥
I’m not ordinary. I stopped pretending long ago.
My name is Maisie Seo. IQ 145. Clinical genius.
Which sounds impressive until you realize what it actually means: I don’t fit anywhere people expect me to.
I see patterns everywhere. Outcomes before they happen. People like equations I’ve already solved.
It gets lonely in a world you’ve already figured out.
So I dull myself down. Smoke the edges off. Pretend, badly, to be the kind of normal that lets people stay.
Then he walked in.
I knew what he was immediately. Dangerous. Intentional. Wrong in all the right ways.
I should be afraid of him.
I keep waiting for that to kick in.
Instead, I’m fascinated.
Because for the first time in my life… I’ve found something I can’t solve.
He is my deadly equation.

He owns me.

Not as a man owns a woman—as a master owns property. Legally. Completely. Efrem Mustafin, leader of one of the five Rings, the most dangerous man I have ever stood beside, and the only thing standing between me and a death sentence.

My name is Alaki Bea Miller. In the ground above, they call me something else: X.

That's what they call us—the inferior. The ones whose only crime is the blood in our veins. In this world, it is illegal to carry more than one bloodline, and I carry the proof of it in mine. I am not a person here. I am not human. I am an abomination, a flaw the system was built to erase.

So when Efrem saved my life, he could only do it one way the law would allow. He took me as property.

Before the watching eyes, I submit. I lower my head. I belong to him.

In private, it was only ever supposed to be pretend.

He says my word means nothing against his. That without him, I have no rights, no protection, no future. I know he’s right. And I can’t tell you when it stopped bothering me. Because the scariest part—the worst part—isn’t the facade. It’s that somewhere along the way, I stopped pretending. The surrender I was performing became real. And he, the man who could lose everything for owning me, risks all of it anyway.

Master Efrem Mustafin, he is.

Subject Alaki Bea X, I was.

My name is Alaki Bea Mustafin.

And in this world, I am Mustafin.

I was meant to wed the man I love, Damien Blackwell. Rather, I was humiliated in front of his whole family and falsely accused of business espionage. They ruined my reputation. My accounts were frozen. They took everything.
Then his uncle made me an offer I couldn't refuse. Cold, merciless, and frighteningly strong, Kael Blackwell offered me two options: marry him or perish in prison for crimes I didn't commit.
I'm now imprisoned in his penthouse, wearing his grandmother's ring and pretending to be his submissive wife while he treats me like the criminal he thinks I am. He keeps an eye on my calls, has authority over my life, and reminds me every day that I am under his command.
But when the truth finally comes out, when he realizes I was innocent all along, will his regret be enough? Or will I be the one walking away while he begs me to stay?
He wanted revenge. He got a wife he'll have to grovel to keep.

My father was a pastor. He was also the reason I died.

In a world already on its knees, vampires in the streets, daylight a memory, the human race running out of places to hide. You would think a man of God would know better than to make a deal with the devil. Or, in our case, the Vampire Lord.

He didn't.

And I paid for it.

The part I can't quite make peace with is what came after. Because dying wasn't the end of it. Someone pulled me back, one of the five men they call Sentinels, blessed with something older than the war itself. and now I'm supposed to be grateful. They tell me I've been given a second chance. What they don't tell me is that the second chance comes with a war, a calling I didn't ask for, and five men I'm not sure I'm ready to trust.

Especially him. The one in charge. The one they call Elion.

He is not what I expected. Nothing about this is.

I have exactly two questions and no good answers: am I supposed to feel this way about a man whose job is to protect me? And if he's as dangerous as everything in me already knows he is. Would I be safer keeping him at arm's length?

I'm starting to think that was never really an option.

After I retired, I was willing to do the dirtiest work at a small auto repair shop—just to give my sick daughter an ordinary childhood.
I endured my mother’s insults, my eldest brother’s wage cuts, my younger brother’s extortion.
But they actually joined forces to steal my daughter’s life-saving money for gambling, then sold me into an illegal mine to pay off their debts.
When the iron chain locked around my wrist, when my daughter cried in despair, the killing intent that had slept in my blood for three years finally woke up completely.
They had no idea I was once the iron-blooded God of War—commander of a million troops, the name that made enemy nations tremble.