235 Book(s) Related to Helping Mr. Gang Leader

She loved him with all her three lives, only to be used and hurt repeatedly. When she returned to the wedding day for the fourth time, the phoenix refused to be trapped any longer. Betrayal ended, revenge arrived, and her destined dragon finally came to take her home.

The night I was reborn, my adoptive brother—Viktor Konstantin, the Don of the Chicago Outfit—was poisoned during a negotiation.

In my past life, I loved him desperately. So when the aphrodisiac took hold and he gasped for me to call Liliya, I made a selfish choice. I stayed. I gave myself to him.

She arrived too late. When she saw us together, she ran. Her plane crashed over the Atlantic that same night.

Viktor married me without a word of blame. Until a turf war when our enemies captured me—seven months pregnant, chained up, beaten bloody. I called him, begging for help through my tears.

His answer shattered me: "You want to live? After killing Liliya? You and that bastard don't deserve to breathe. Go to hell, Eve."

I died in that cell. Our daughter died with me.

Now I'm staring into those same drugged eyes again.

This time, I'm making the call.

Morwenna de Lacy awakens inside the bestselling romance novel she hates most—and discovers she has become the villainess fiancée destined to die before the story even reaches its midpoint. Her only hope for survival lies in the mysterious Audience Satisfaction System, which assigns increasingly impossible missions: make the cold Duke Corwin Winterveil fall in love, outshine the beloved heroine, and avoid every death flag written into the original plot. In a glittering empire of noble scandals, royal engagements, magical aristocrats, and ancient gods, one wrong move could cost her everything.

But the more Morwenna changes the story, the stranger the world becomes. The heroine seems to know the future, unseen spectators begin commenting on her life, and the gods watching from above grow obsessed with the drama unfolding before them. Trapped in a story where fate has already decided the ending, Morwenna must choose whether to follow the script or rewrite it entirely. But if the world itself was never meant to belong to its characters, can she steal the male lead before fate steals her freedom first?

Twelve years of love, loyalty, and promises—shattered in one gunshot moment.

Aria thought she knew what love meant: sacrifices, patience, blind faith in the man she'd called her fiancé for over a decade. But on Valentine's Day, with a gun pointed in their direction, Liam instinctively shielded his ex, Sophia—while Aria was left bleeding and invisible.

"You almost died!"
"And he didn't even look at me, Lili. He wrapped his arms around her like I was nothing."

Torn between heartbreak and dignity, Aria makes a bold move—marrying Liam's wealthy rival, Aiden Carter, in an impulsive act of revenge. But Aiden is more than a rebound. He's powerful, possessive, and unexpectedly protective—and he plays for keeps.

Now caught between a love that failed her, and a man who may demand more than she's ready to give… Aria's heart faces the ultimate reckoning.

Will she finally become someone's first choice—or lose herself trying?

ADRIAN Cole had it all. Wealth, power, a beautiful wife, and a daughter who adored him. But one mistake… one affair… and one phone call from his mistress was enough to shatter the perfect life he thought he controlled.

When Amelia walked away, she didn’t just leave her husband behind, she carried a secret of her own, a secret that would change everything.

Now Adrian is left chasing shadows of the woman who once loved him, realizing too late that money and pride can’t heal the wounds of betrayal. But the road back to Amelia’s heart isn’t just blocked by her pain, it’s poisoned by the jealousy of her own sister, whose hidden hatred runs deeper than anyone could imagine.

Caught between regret, family betrayal, and the fight for the woman he once took for granted, Adrian must prove that his love is real this time. But what if Amelia’s forgiveness is the one thing he can never buy back?

A story of betrayal, heartbreak, and redemption. Will love survive when it’s already too late for sorry?

Damian vs Grace: aloof, handsome heir vs brave, soft‑looking girl who makes the first move.
They fall; a bad misunderstanding sends her overseas. He chases, crashes, forgets... Five years later, at a crowded crosswalk, their eyes lock—
"My heartbeat recognized you before I did."

When I was nine months pregnant, my husband, Torin, forced doctors to extract my baby's cord blood to save his ex-wife's son. My baby died of suffocation ten minutes after birth, right before my eyes.
Instigated by his biological mother, my stepson sneaked into my room late at night and poured silver powder all over me. My skin rotted; the scars would last forever.
Later, the hospital ward caught fire, cutting off my escape. On the brink of life and death, Torin glanced back at me, scooped up his ex-wife, and walked into the safe zone without looking back.
Even later, he knelt in the ruins, hands dripping with blood, digging through the rubble brick by brick.
Until his subordinate stepped up behind him and choked out, "Alpha... we found the Luna's body."

Fourteen years ago, Isabella Winston died.

At least, that's what everyone believed.

One moment, she was trapped inside a sinking car beneath the icy waters of the Hudson River. The next, she woke up in her own bathtub and somehow fourteen years in the future.

Her husband is no longer the warm, easygoing man she remembers.

Her five-year-old son is now a nineteen-year-old stranger who looks at her with suspicion.

Her twins barely remember the mother they lost—one forever chasing affection, the other keeping the entire world at arm's length.

And the family she left behind has become something broken, distant, and unrecognizable.

Now Isabella faces an impossible challenge: rebuilding a family that never truly recovered from losing her.

Fourteen years have left scars on everyone.

Unfortunately for those causing the damage, Isabella Winston has returned to set things right.

“You don’t love me, do you?” Luke whispered, pinning my wrists above my head.

His body pressed mine into the bed, hot, heavy, inescapable. His mouth brushed my ear, gentle enough to feel like a kiss, cruel enough to feel like punishment.

“It’s okay,” he murmured.“Your body is mine.”

I left Luke Morrison unconscious in an ICU eight years ago and rebuilt myself in London—elite auctioneer, an ocean between me and the past.

Then my brother's condition crashed. I'm back in Pennsylvania, standing behind an auction podium at his company's charity gala.

A little boy runs through the crowd and wraps his arms around me: "Mama, you came back."

"Daddy shows me pictures every day," Asher says.

Every. Single. Day. How long has this been going on?

Luke's watching with ice-cold eyes. The bullied boy I left behind? Gone. Replaced by a tech billionaire who makes predators look soft.

"Get in," he says. Not a request.

Then he takes me back to his home.

His penthouse is frozen in time—the art I chose, the books I organized. Our past preserved like he's been waiting.

"You owe me eight years, Mia," he says, showing me the scar. "The girl who watched them destroy me and did nothing. This time, you don't run."

When he fucks me, it's worship and punishment. Making me pay for every day I was gone.

"I've waited eight years for this. Every breath you take belongs to me."

He's not just possessive. He's broken. And Asher is the perfect weapon to keep me trapped.

The night before move-in, Vivian Owens’ housing collapses and her best friends betray her.

Her only lifeline? Crashing with her brother and his roommate —
Elias “Carter” Carter, the tattooed star point guard every girl wants.

One accidental aphrodisiac cookie night turns her into his willing little sub as he commands her

“Don’t stop, My Little Bubbles.”

But Carter’s gang past , a situationship with her own reconciled ex-best friend Kelly , draft pressure, and his own demons rip them apart again and again. Two pregnancies. Two brutal runaways. A jealous rival doctor who becomes a monster. Readers will scream at Carter, cry for him, and beg for more.

Some love don’t just break hearts — they start wars on and off the court.

The room went deadly silent. Christopher, the CEO of Sullivan Group, looked at me with pure disgust. "Get this crazy girl out of here! My grandfather is dying, and you're playing sick games?"

But the old man on the bed... his eyes flew open. He stared at me—not at my young, beautiful face, but into my soul. He saw the sketch in my hand. A secret only a mother and her six-year-old son would know.

"Jimmy," I said softly, using the nickname no one had spoken in decades. "Do you remember the thunderstorms?"

Tears streamed down the old man's wrinkled cheeks. The most powerful man in Boston, reached out his frail hand to grasp mine. "Mama?" he choked out, his voice breaking like a small child's. "You came back?"

Christopher froze. The doctors froze. I climbed onto the bed and pulled my 80-year-old son into my arms. "I'm here, baby. Mommy's home."

I’m a billionaire heir, and I used to say yes to my girlfriend no matter what.

She swiped my card like it was hers, partied until sunrise, and while I lay in a hospital bed, I was still cleaning up her messes.

She never visited me once—yet I couldn’t let her go. I would have given her everything.

Until an accident made me realize the truth: my love wasn’t real. It was hypnosis.

Her father wanted control. He bribed my psychiatrist and rigged my treatment—so the moment I saw her face, I’d lose control, give in, and hand over whatever they wanted.

All that devotion was manufactured.

Now the hypnosis is gone. She thinks I’ll keep being her ATM.

She has no idea that the first thing I did after waking up was make her—and her father—pay.

Everyone says I'm the woman Jasper loves most.

But only I know that in his heart, I've always come second to Sadie.

Seven years ago, I shoved him out from under a collapsing rig and shattered my right ankle. I never skated competitively again.

He held me and swore that the day he won the Grand Slam, he'd marry me in front of the whole world.

I believed him. So I learned to be his support crew. I sharpened his blades, hand-sewed his costumes, dragged my bad leg around everywhere he went. I turned myself into the shadow that followed him.

Then Sadie came along. Young, healthy, able to do things I could never do again.

Tonight, Jasper wins the Grand Slam. The cameras circle him, the whole arena chanting for him to propose.

But he looks down at Sadie in his arms and smiles.

"Out of everyone, she's the one I want to thank most for this medal. I wouldn't have made it here without her."

That's the moment I stop wanting to stay.

The elite circles all whisper that David Ashcroft is the ideal fiancé—cold, untouchable, repulsed by even a woman's fingertips.

Yet when my most intimate photos, leaked by his own hands, flood the internet, I'm left curled on the bathroom floor retching in agony—while my so-called "gynophobic" fiancé toasts with his white moonlight, Celia Davis, at their private club.

My phone lights up with his icy message: ["Remember—never dare to touch me again."]

Then Celia's text stabs through: ["Thanks for the 'portfolio,' dear fiancée. My boyfriend's skills are far more impressive than you imagined~"]

The attached screenshot freezes my blood—David's chat logs, where my photos are auctioned with the caption: ["Just a plaything. Highest bidder wins."]

So this is the truth behind his "disgust for women"—a carefully crafted mask for this long-planned humiliation.

Three years ago, billionaire Theodore Chambers handed Victoria Ellis divorce papers with cold eyes and colder words—all for the sake of his first love, Isabella Waters.
Victoria didn't cry. She didn't beg.
She simply signed her name, walked out of that golden cage, and disappeared from the world of the rich.
What the world didn't expect…
Was for the discarded ex-wife to rise from the ashes—not as a socialite, but as the world's most sought-after reconstructive mortician. Behind every high-profile crime scene and closed casket, she was the one restoring dignity to the dead—and building a name powerful enough to shake law enforcement and the elite alike.
Now, at a funeral of all places, their paths cross again.
She stands beside another man, radiant, untouchable.
He watches in disbelief—his ex-wife, no longer his.
"You handle corpses every day. Aren't you afraid of bad luck?" he growls, grabbing her wrist.
She smiles coldly.
"In my heart, the grass over your grave has already grown two meters tall."
But fate has one final card to play.
When Victoria finds Theodore lying in a pool of blood, clutching an old photo of her, everything unravels.
Was it too late after all?
Or is love just another body she's not willing to reconstruct?

Five years ago, I knelt on marble floors, cleaning wine with my own dress while they laughed.

Five years later, they knelt before me, begging for forgiveness while I walked away.

They thought three hundred thousand dollars could buy my soul. They thought I was just another disposable substitute, another broken girl desperate enough to sell her dignity for her dying mother's medical bills.

Caspian Ashford wanted a replacement for his precious Scarlett. The Hampton elite wanted a servant to humiliate. They all wanted me to disappear quietly when they were done with me.

They got their wish—I did disappear.

But the girl who drowned in that yacht "accident" five years ago? She was weak, desperate, powerless.

The woman who returned as Elena Whitman?

I'm their worst fucking nightmare.

Every night when my daughter comes home, she looks different.
On the first night, a little of her hair was gone.
On the second night, she was missing one hand.
On the third night, half of her body had vanished.
I jolted awake in a sudden start, thankful it had only been a nightmare.
Right then, my daughter came back home.
A patch of her hair was missing.

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?"

"Evelyn Drake, are you truly set on joining the FBI as an undercover agent?"
The senior officer Garrett stared intently at the elegantly dressed woman before him, his gaze laced with inquiry and faint doubt.
It was his occupational habit, even a special knack, to categorize everyone he met into distinct social ranks—and he was exceptionally good at it, never once misjudging anyone.
In his eyes, Evelyn Drake, with her flawless makeup and platinum-blonde hair all the way down to the roots, was far from cut out to be an agent.
He had seen countless such pampered wealthy wives throwing petty tantrums. Most would make a scene at the front desk, only to be coaxed home meekly by their rich husbands soon after.
If such a delicate lady were admitted into the FBI, he suspected even the Kevlar bulletproof vest alone would chafe her soft skin raw.
Lost in these thoughts, Garrett let out a disdainful chuckle, his tone brimming with scorn. "Are you really sure? You'd give up your lavish lifestyle to become an FBI agent?"
Sensing his contempt, Evelyn took off her expensive wristwatch and slipped it into her handbag, then nodded firmly at him. "I am absolutely certain."

At Lycan Royal Academy, eighteen-year-old Jillian Richards—an orphaned omega with unknown bloodline—has only ever wanted to survive unnoticed. But on Mating Night, destiny shatters her quiet world when both Larson Davis, the future king, and his father, King Carlton, feel the irresistible mate bond pull toward her.
Suddenly hunted by obsession, jealousy, and royal desire, Jillian becomes the center of a forbidden love triangle that threatens the entire kingdom. When she chooses the king, Larson spirals into dangerous madness and plots a deadly betrayal that exposes long-buried secrets, tearing the royal family apart.
As enemies rise and jealous hearts strike, Jillian must embrace her true power to claim her place beside the king and protect the future growing inside her.
A destined Luna.
Two royal wolves.
One throne… and a bond that could destroy them all.

At her engagement party, her fiancé had betrayed her.She announced she wanted to take revenge on her fiancé.


A man's icy lips covered hers as he devoured her, giving her temporary respite from the heat. She reached out and flung her arms around his neck, sucking his lips greedily.

Loud moans and pants soon resounded around the room. Their shadows on the wall opposite overlapped with a burning passion.

As the light was dim, Charlotte couldn't see the man's face clearly. The only thing that occurred to her was how beastly he was in bed. He savagely took her until dawn.

Love is like a battle... A bloodless battle. And every battle has casualties. But this battle leaves even more torturous wounds. Because the wounds of love are left on one's soul. He might be covered in scars that this battle of feeling left behind, she was the cure he never even knew he was looking

He laid me on the sheets, climbed over me, caged me with his arms. "Last chance to run," he said, voice low.
"I need the money," I whispered, feeling so tiny in his arms. "You're soaking," he muttered.
"Virgin or not, your pussy wants this."I moaned, looking away, couldn’t help it, "Eyes on me, sweetheart," he pushed his tip in slowly.
"Fuck," he groaned. "So tight. "He fucked me like he was claiming something.
"Come for me," he whispered in my ears, moving faster.
"Damien," I cried out his name as I came. "That's it," he growled. After a long minute he pulled out slowly.
"One night," he said again, almost like a reminder... Weeks later, I walked through the quiet hall of my school.
A massive portrait stared back at me.Damien Blackwood the Principal Benefactor and Owner of Columbia University. Same man who’d just taken my virginity for money. My stomach dropped. "Oh fuck... what have I done?"

At her engagement party, her fiancé had betrayed her.She announced she wanted to take revenge on her fiancé.


A man’s icy lips covered hers as he devoured her, giving her temporary respite from the heat. She reached out and flung her arms around his neck, sucking his lips greedily.
Loud moans and pants soon resounded around the room. Their shadows on the wall opposite overlapped with a burning passion.
As the light was dim, Charlotte couldn’t see the man’s face clearly. The only thing that occurred to her was how beastly he was in bed. He savagely took her until dawn.

Love is like a battle... A bloodless battle. And every battle has casualties. But this battle leaves even more torturous wounds. Because the wounds of love are left on one's soul. He might be covered in scars that this battle of feeling left behind, she was the cure he never even knew he was looking

He laid me on the sheets, climbed over me, caged me with his arms.
"Last chance to run," he said, voice low.
"I need the money," I whispered, feeling so tiny in his arms.
"You're soaking," he muttered. "Virgin or not, your pussy wants this."
I moaned, looking away, couldn't help it.
"Eyes on me, sweetheart," he pushed his tip in slowly.
"Fuck," he groaned. "So tight."
He fucked me like he was claiming something.
"Come for me," he whispered in my ears, moving faster.
"Damien," I cried out his name as I came.
"That's it," he growled.
After a long minute he pulled out slowly. "One night," he said again, almost like a reminder.
...
Weeks later, I walked through the quiet hall of my school. A massive portrait stared back at me.
Damien Blackwood
Principal Benefactor and Owner
Columbia University.
Same man who'd just taken my virginity for money.
My stomach dropped.
"Oh fuck... what have I done?"

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.

In their eyes, my wife Emma—an Ivy League tenured professor in biological sciences—is ruthless, rational, and obsessively clean.
For seven years, even when she washed her hands, she would only ever touch the right-side sink—hers.
Until that night at 3 a.m., when I pulled a strand of sandy-golden short curl—hair that belonged to neither of us—out of my men’s shower loofah.
And around the neck of a pre-med student named Lucas, I saw the antique silver cross my dying father left in my hands.
When I confronted her, my always-icy wife protected the little homewrecker, slapped me across the face, and called me a jealous, controlling chauvinist.
She thought I’d swallow it like a coward.
But she forgot: as a top cardiothoracic chief, the thing I do best is cutting out tumors.

Shantel Leaster is twenty-five and, to put it simply, a mess. She’s clumsy, spoiled, and never on time. Her parents, tired of her careless ways, cut her off and force her to survive on her own. After hopping from one failed job to another, Shantel finds herself desperate, with nothing but her small car, a pile of rejection letters, and a growing sense that life is passing her by.

That’s when she crosses paths with Kelvin Zee. He is everything she’s not: disciplined, powerful, respected, and blind. At first, Shantel doesn’t know how to feel about him. He’s cold and intimidating, but there’s something magnetic about him, something that makes her want to stay. Kelvin offers her a job as his personal chef, and though she doubts herself, she takes it.

"Mate" one word managed to escape my lips.Only to see Lucius one of my pack members, was having a wolf in his grip, she was struggling aimlessly.
"mine"my wolf said loudly, I found myself taking graceful strides towards her.
"alpha, I saw this lady was having a spear applied with wolvesbane, for that reason I had to stop her"
" mine" my Wolf growled that word again.
" alpha, you can't be taking her, she is an enemy, much worse a rogue at that"
" give me some space "
"but alpha.."
"I said leave"

Alpha Rowland, had no son for a Long period of time, he wanted an heir, so was Emily, the Luna of the pack. They wondered if the goddess of the moon wanted to punish them.But what will happen on the blood moon, where many packs, will come together and they could choose any woman and try different sexcapade, will Emily eventually have sex with any man, or the alpha King himself.

He can’t stand her… almost as much as he can’t stay away.

Ethan Hale is a sharp-witted, fiercely ambitious doctor who thrives on control—except when it comes to Lena Carter, his sister’s best friend and the one woman who constantly gets under his skin.

Lena is bold, unpredictable, and the only person who can match Ethan’s fire with her own. Their clashes are legendary, but when one heated moment turns into an unexpected enemies-with-benefits deal, their rivalry takes a dangerous turn.

Ethan keeps his heart locked away, and Lena carries secrets from a past that refuses to let go. As their arrangement spirals into something deeper, old wounds reopen, and emotions they swore they’d never feel threaten to ruin everything.

A story of passion, tension, and redemption, Maybe I Love You is a sizzling enemies-to-lovers romance that tests the limits of love and forgiveness.