6368 Book(s) Related to the charismatic charlie wade chapter 31

Several days after being locked in the dungeon, my wife married my own identical twin brother.
Rose petals rained from the sky; the entire city celebrated the new marriage of the crime family's matriarch.
She thought I would weep in despair in the dark dungeon, admitting my mistakes to her.
Little did she know, I was currently being held in the arms of another, even more powerful figure whom she herself feared, watching this farce with cold eyes.
In my past life, I gave her my heart, only to be betrayed and abandoned in return.
Living a second time, I will not serve her anymore.
She thought she could tame me using my brother's injury as an excuse, not knowing I had already tricked her into signing our divorce agreement days ago.
When she finally checked the surveillance and learned the truth, kicking down the dungeon door in a frantic plea for my forgiveness, all that remained was a pool of my blood...

Seven years of marriage turned to ash the moment I discovered my husband had arranged for his sister-in-law to carry his dead brother's child—using his own sperm to continue the family bloodline.
Lorenzo Corvino—New York's most ruthless don—would drive three hours through a storm just to get me imported cherries. He held me at my mother's funeral, crying until dawn. He hospitalized a man for disrespecting me at a charity gala.
I thought I was the center of his world.
Until the private investigator's flash drive revealed the truth: Lorenzo at the clinic for Claudia's prenatal appointments, his hand on her pregnant belly, whispering "Marco would be so proud."
In the end, on the Corvino family's scale of priorities, continuing his dead brother's bloodline would always outweigh his infertile wife.
The night the yacht exploded, the New York sky burned red. The news reported the mafia don's wife had perished in the flames. He collapsed on the dock, clutching the charred wreckage, breaking down completely.
But he didn't know—
That "dead" woman was across the Atlantic on the Amalfi Coast, one hand on her seven-week baby bump, protecting the secret he'd never discover.
Seven months later, when he stepped into my new life and saw the infant with his deep brown eyes cradled in my arms—
This man who'd built an empire on violence and fear finally understood what he'd truly lost.
And I'll spend the rest of my life making sure he knows: some betrayals are so deep, even "I'm sorry" is more than he'll ever deserve.

When the vaccine turned into a deadly virus, the dead rose with blood-red eyes. Marcus lost his lover in the apocalypse, discovered the dark conspiracy behind the zombie hordes. From a desperate survivor to a cold hunter, he burns for revenge and fights to save the last of humanity in the ruined world.

"What gives a scarred freak like you the right to stand next to him?"
Four years ago, a brutal attack left a hideous burn scar across the left side of my face. Ever since, I've hidden behind a black mask, fading into the darkest corners of St. Oak High. I thought if I just stayed perfectly invisible, I could survive high school in peace.
Then Michael came back.
He's the President of Model UN, an Ivy-League-bound genius, and the golden boy everyone revolves around. And me? I’m just a damaged outcast too terrified to show my own face.
The harder I pushed him away, the closer he got.
But when a video from four years ago surfaces—showing him throwing a punch just to defend me—his flawless future is suddenly on the line. That's when I knew I couldn't hide in the shadows anymore.
This time, even if it means exposing my ugliest scars to the harsh light of day, I will do whatever it takes to protect him.

They all thought I was just a rogue soldier who had crawled back from the border, covered in gunpowder and looking for revenge for my family's old debts.
Everyone was guessing which building I would blow up next. Julian, as I expected, panicked.
He recalled all his elite personnel to the Vientiane Building, activated top-level security, practically turning the entire office building into an impenetrable fortress, and sealed off assets globally to prevent my "illegal theft."
But he made a mistake.
When he personally pressed the reset lock, attempting to regain control of the system through manual verification, he didn't hear the prompt of command execution, but rather the hydraulic hum emanating from the building's load-bearing walls—it was the "self-destruct program" he had personally signed, running as scheduled under the guise of my privileges.

I am Mandy Langley, 42 years old, CEO of Sterling International. In Manhattan's cutthroat business world, I'd earned the name "Ice Queen."
Five years divorced, my ex-husband's parting words still stung—he'd called me cold as stone, said I was nothing but a dictator even in bed.
He had no idea my frost was a facade, hiding an emptiness and a craving no one could touch.
I controlled billions in assets, yet I lay awake every night, consumed by a single thought: I wanted a man to make me let go, to force me to surrender completely.
That man walked into my office three years ago, and I'd been drowning ever since.
Allen Thorne, my chief assistant, 28 years old—too young, shamefully young, and yet I couldn't resist him.
A year ago, I discovered the truth: he was the CEO of Vortex Capital, my rival, planted here to destroy me.
I should've fired him on the spot. Instead, I kept him close, pretending it was to watch him, when really, I just couldn't let him go.
Dangerous, magnetic, ruthlessly in control—he was everything I shouldn't want. I never exposed him. I fell harder instead.
I buried this forbidden desire, but every day he was there, right in front of me, taunting me.
What was I supposed to do? Cut him loose—or let him claim me?

At 2:17 AM, six weeks postpartum, new mom Harper thought she was just responding to her baby's crying. Instead, she discovered her husband Kieran and their live-in nanny Anya in the most intimate embrace—right beside her daughter's crib.
In her most vulnerable moment, in what should have been the safest space in her home, the two people she trusted most were betraying everything sacred about motherhood and marriage. Worse yet, they thought she was just another "baby-brained" mom who would never catch on.

They seriously underestimated what a mother is capable of.

When Harper finds that mysterious $300 Victoria's Secret charge on their shared account, when she discovers Kieran's handwritten love notes hidden in Anya's room, when she overhears them mocking her "annoying" middle-of-the-night feedings—she realizes it's time to show them what a real "burning sensation" feels like.

So the next time they tried to sneak around, Harper secretly swapped out their lube for her own special blend.

If you want to play with fire, let me show you what burning really feels like.

The remote vacation villa was saturated with suffocating male testosterone.
Deep in the night, my life-saving suppressants inexplicably vanished. The moment the drugs wore off, my unspeakable secret—my sex addiction—unleashed its most violent, lethal backlash in history.
What was even more fatal was that, through a twisted twist of fate, the man I was forced to share a room with tonight was my stepbrother, renowned for his absolute abstinence and cold, iron-fisted ruthlessness.
I thought that once my embarrassingly out-of-control, in-heat state was exposed, he would treat me like a monster and kick me away in disgust.
But I never expected—
This aloof man, who usually wouldn't even spare me a glance, now carried an irresistible, scorching aggression, ruthlessly sliding his large, rough hand straight up my thoroughly soaked panties...

In my past life, the glorious "Son of the Sun" drained my divine blood until I died a broken shell.
Reborn, my twin sister eagerly steals my fiancé, shoving me toward the exiled, "crippled" King of the Shadow Crows.
As she flaunts her stolen glory, desperate to birth the sky's future ruler, I can only smile.
She doesn't know her golden prince is functionally sterile—and the "heir" she's destroying herself to conceive will be a nightmare.
And she certainly has no idea that my featherless, outcast husband is actually the ancient Abyssal Phoenix.
Let her drown in the hell she stole. This time, I’ll let the very abyss she cursed crown me as a True God.

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.

My three-year-old daughter hides behind the sofa whenever I try to hold her now.

“Mommy is scary,” she whispers, clutching her stuffed bear like a shield.

I thought it was just a toddler’s overactive imagination.

Until I checked the camera feed in my own bedroom.

I watched a woman who looked exactly like me step out of the shadows of our antique mirror, slip into my husband’s bed, and kiss him.

"Did you bring one back?" My mom, Siobhan, urged.
I pushed my half-empty mug to the center of the cafe table. The campus buzzed around me, students stressing over minor things like finals.
"I’m still at school, Mom."
"The Summer Solstice is in exactly one month, Maeve." The line crackled.
"If you cross that water empty-handed, Finn is going to the pens. Are you going to let your own brother be taken?"

"We can only take one more person! Any heavier and we ALL go down!"

In the middle of a raging forest fire, my fiancé Carter Hayes was piloting a fuel-leaking helicopter, forced to choose between me and my cousin Lily Sterling.

He chose me.

Lily was left behind in the inferno. She burned.

I thought surviving made me lucky — until my parents slapped me across the face at my wedding. "Why wasn't it YOU who died?"

Turns out, I was never the one they wanted to save.

Carter married me, then spent five years making me wish I'd died in that fire instead. He and my parents worked together, systematically stripping away my dignity, my career, and every reason I had to keep living.

Three years into my depression, I jumped from the top floor of the Hayes estate.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself back before the fire — before the helicopter took off, before Carter made his choice.

This time, I spoke first. "Take Lily."

If they all wanted me dead, then I'd give them exactly what they wanted.

I thought I was the luckiest person in the apocalypse.
My brother, a former special forces soldier, brought me supplies so I wouldn't have to face the horrors above ground.
My girlfriend comforted me over the radio, saying she'd cry in my arms once we could finally get out.
I lived underground for three years, grateful like a domesticated dog.
Until that day, when I pushed open the door, smelled fresh grass, and saw the swimming pool in the sunlight—that's when I understood that the so-called apocalypse was never outside, but behind the door they had locked me in.

I died on the day my fiancé Song Jinnian got engaged to his white moonlight, Shen Zhiyi.

Shen Zhiyi wore the evening dress designed by Song Jinnian himself, smiling sweetly as she linked her arm through his, accepting blessings from every guest in the hall.

I was at the scene of a car crash on Highway 23, half a steel rebar piercing straight through my chest. Warm blood trickled down the cold metal, pooling into a stark, glaring red pool beneath me.

I called Song Jinnian seventeen times.

He hung up instantly on the first sixteen.

On the seventeenth ring, he finally answered.

The melodic music of the banquet hall hummed in the background. His voice was low, laced with unbridled impatience: “What’s your problem now? How many times do I have to say it—marrying Zhiyi is just a formality. Can’t you act your age and quit this nonsense?”

I tried to speak, but blood froth surged up my throat, stealing my ability to form a full sentence. All I heard was the busy tone as he hung up without a second thought, echoing in the empty car, one beep at a time, shattering my last shred of hope.

Song Jinnian would never know that the girl he dismissed as a spoiled, tantrum-throwing lady was pinned to the driver’s seat by that steel rebar.

Beneath my slightly bulging abdomen lay our two-month-old unborn child.

Trembling, I let go of the phone soaked in blood. With my final ounce of strength, I dialed the funeral home.

“Hello. Near Highway 23… please come collect a body from a car crash.”

A pause came from the other end, followed by the routine question:

“Who are you to the deceased?”

All around me, only the rain hammered against the car windows, and my breath grew fainter and fainter. I forced out my last words:

“I am… the deceased herself.”

One hundred years married to Everett, and I've learned one thing: whenever he wants to push me into a corner, he throws the mate bond dissolution agreement in my face. Whenever my parents want me to cave, they hold the family name over my head.

They've always wanted the same thing — for me to hand over everything I have to my twin sister Rosalie, who's been sick her whole life.

I've fought it. I've grieved over it.

But when the doctor slid the diagnosis across the desk — Blood Depletion Syndrome, late stage, less than two weeks left — something in me just went quiet.

What's the point of fighting when you're already dead?

I divorced the same man nine times.
The first eight times, I was the one sobbing, begging him not to go.
The ninth time, I was the one who slid the papers across the table.
He signed them, then told me we'd remarry once she left.
I said okay.
What he didn't know was that my flight was already booked.
This time, I was leaving for good.

Ryan loves me deeply—at least that's what everyone says. Seven years together, we look like the perfect couple to outsiders. But only I know he's betrayed me three times.

The first time was three years ago. His brother died saving him, leaving behind his widow Sophia—Ryan's unforgettable first love. He married her behind my back. When I found out, I completely fell apart. I have dignity. I refuse to be the other woman. I wanted to leave, but he begged on his knees. "This is just to take care of my sister-in-law. Once I find the truth about my brother's death, I'll divorce her. Then we can get married."

I believed him. I forgot that a man never lets go of a lost love he's gotten back.

The second time was at last year's company anniversary. In front of everyone, he introduced Sophia as his wife. I watched them on stage, a knife through my heart. That night he explained, "It's just for show. Once everything's over, we can be together."

I believed him again.

The third time was two weeks ago. Surveillance footage showed Ryan with Sophia entering a hotel room. I rushed to confront him, but heard her voice outside his office. "Ryan, I'm pregnant. It's your baby."

Through the crack in the door, I see him hesitate. In that instant I understand.

He's going to keep her.

He spots me and rushes out in a panic. "It was an accident! Let me explain! After she has the baby, I'll give her money and make her leave. She won't be in our lives anymore!"

In that moment, I finally wake up. There will be no future for us.

Aurelia, princess of the Light Fae Clan, sacrificed everything to save Caleb, a young noble cursed with blood plague. She fed him her golden life‑blood, bound herself with a silence spell to hide imperial secrets, and swore to protect him forever—even if it cost her freedom.
Blinded by false accusations and manipulated by a cruel dark witch, Caleb turned on the woman who gave him life. He chained her with deadly cold iron, tore out her Life Core, imprisoned her in a freezing basement, and watched his beloved’s younger brother die by his own hand.
When Aurelia unleashes the forbidden stardust self‑destruction curse and fades into glowing ashes, Caleb finally uncovers the terrible truth. Drowning in endless regret and self‑loathing, he embarks on a brutal path of atonement—punishing the witch, saving the last surviving Fae, and torturing himself for years.
But some sins can never be washed away.Some saviors never return.And the noble who killed his Fae savior will pay with his life.

The end of the world arrives, and zombies run rampant across the city.
I was the first to awaken a top-tier superpower, instantly taking out half a street full of zombies.
I led a group of survivors to fight our way out of the deadly encirclement, seized the abandoned military factory in the east of the city, and built a safe haven there.
I was the fearsome tyrant who struck terror into every corner of the surrounding lands.
The official safe base tried to recruit me three times, but I threw their men and vehicles straight out of my territory.
A research lab came seeking partnership, and I burned down their sampling vehicle to the ground.
I set all the rules of the base. Anyone who defied me would be cast outside the city walls to feed the zombies.
All the food, medicine and safety in the base were fought back by me and my people, risking our lives amid swarms of zombies.
Everyone respected and feared me. The only soft spot I had was reserved for my girlfriend Xu Qinghe, who crawled out of the pile of the dead right beside me.
The research lab released earth-shattering news: one in ten thousand superpower awakeners could evolve into the Superpower King. A bright red vein on the inner forearm was the mark of the savior.
All the survivors instantly gave up fighting. They abandoned guarding the city walls and gathering supplies, kneeling every day to wait for the arrival of the Superpower King.
Until my girlfriend brought back a delicate young man with the red vein on his forearm. The entire base worshipped him as a deity.
I, who had guarded the base with my life for three long years, was driven out of the city gates to be eaten by zombies.
A million-strong zombie tide surrounded the city, while the so-called Superpower King they revered collapsed on the ground, screaming and wailing in panic.
As everyone sank into despair, waiting helplessly for death, I glanced down at the red line on my forearm and smiled.
This time, it’s my turn to make my entrance.

Here is the translation, adapted into the explosive, high-stakes style of a bestselling American domestic thriller. The pacing is sharp, and the emotional transition from shock to cold vengeance is deeply amplified:

For five years, I honestly believed I was the happiest woman alive.

Until today. The day I came home early and stood frozen just outside the balcony, listening to his phone call.

"What? Shuying, you're pregnant?" Tingshen's voice was laced with a raw, unbridled euphoria I had never once heard before. "I knew getting rid of Jiang Wan's baby back then was the right move."

My knuckles turned stark white as I death-gripped the ultrasound report in my hand.

Qin Shuying. My absolute worst rival. They had been sleeping together.

"Tingshen, are you sure she won't find out?" Shuying's sickeningly sweet voice drifted through the phone's speaker, piercing my eardrums. "If Jiang Wan ever realizes you were the one who killed her baby, she's going to raise hell."

"Relax." Tingshen laughed, his tone dripping with the kind of casual contempt reserved for swatting a fly. "She's so clueless. She honestly believes it was her own failing body. The stupid bitch even cried and apologized to me. She'd never in a million years suspect I drugged her."

My nails drove so brutally into my palms that they broke the skin.

"Besides, I finally got my hands on her core design drafts. Consider them a welcome gift for our baby. As for her shares in the company..." He paused, savoring his own smugness. "She's about to sign them all over to me anyway. So what if her old man built an empire? It's all dropping right into my lap."

The world tilted violently on its axis.

I was carrying his child again.

Just five minutes ago, before I overheard this monstrous phone call, I had been acting like a giddy fool, planning the perfect way to surprise him with the news.

My trembling hand drifted down to my lower stomach. My chest cracked open, a visceral, violent tearing of my own heart. The baby I had desperately longed for and mourned... chemically aborted by their own father, all to keep his mistress happy.

My sweet babies, I thought, the devastating sorrow rapidly freezing into sheer, icy rage. Mommy is going to make them pay for every drop of blood.

Siren's Reef only breeds women.
On this isolated island, Henrietta's orphanage takes in all fatherless girls. She raises us until our eighteenth birthday—the night of the "Coral Crowning," an annual coming-of-age ritual that supposedly earns the Sea God's blessing.
My sister Saffron and I are identical twins, raised wearing the exact same face.
But on this island, the same face doesn't spell the same fate. She was the one Henrietta spoiled from birth; I was the one allowed to trail behind her.
I thought it would always be this way. Until she died. Henrietta claimed Saffron broke the rules and was flayed alive by the serrated edges of the reef. But that day, I saw it with my own eyes: Saffron's signature dimple had appeared on Henrietta's cheek—where none had been before.

An hour ago, at the company’s press conference, I had just helped my husband Carlisle quell the ninety-ninth scandal of his affair.
Now, he has my assistant Russell pinned against my office desk, kissing him, his hand slipping under Russell’s miniskirt and groping wildly.
In that moment, I’ve already planned the publicity spin for the hundredth time.
But I’m not sure if my dear husband Carlisle and his lover will make it that far.
Because the revenge banquet I’ve been preparing for three years is about to begin.

As the only daughter of a mafia family, I learned early that trust doesn't come cheap. When my father got sick, he gave me an ultimatum: if I want to take over the family, I have to get married first.

Everyone assumed I'd pick my childhood friend, Vincent Moretti—son of my father's right-hand man. Hell, even I thought so. Until my last life, when he left me to burn.

Father died in an ambush. I was trapped in a metal cage at an abandoned dock warehouse while flames swallowed everything. I begged Vincent for help. He stood thirty feet away, the cage key right by his feet.

"Cat, as long as your father's alive, he'll never give me the family. This isn't personal. It's business."

Sophia was wrapped around him—my so-called best friend. She smiled at me and said she'd take good care of everything.

Before I lost consciousness, I saw a figure in black charging into the flames—Elijah, the bodyguard I'd called "trash" and "a dog."

Then I opened my eyes and woke up a month before my birthday party. This time, I'm giving that position to someone who actually deserves it.

But why is Vincent on his knees at my engagement party, crying and begging me to marry him?

I hid in my best friend's closet to catch my fiancé cheating.
Through the gap in the door, I saw them on the bed. Tessa was blindfolded, wrists tied to the headboard with silk scarves. Callum's hands wrapped around her throat—some kind of breath play, I guessed.
Then her moaning turned to choking.
Her body convulsed. Her bound hands clawed at nothing. Her legs kicked against the mattress.
Then stopped.
Callum released her throat. Checked her pulse. Sighed.
And lit a cigarette.
He sat there scrolling his phone next to her body. No panic. No CPR. No 911.
Like this wasn't his first time watching someone die.
I bit my hand to keep from screaming. Blood seeped across the floor toward my bare feet.
Then he walked toward the closet.
I escaped that night. Barely. Ran three floors up to my neighbor's apartment—Dr. Neve Ashton, a trauma therapist. Beautiful. Warm. The kind of woman who made you feel safe just by existing.
She pulled me inside, locked the door, handed me tea.
"I called the police," she said. "They're on their way."
An hour passed. No sirens.
I looked at her. She smiled.

Evan Hollen had it all. The looks, the charm, the girls and the CEO job position at his father's company. Jasmine Blackman was the ordinary assistant with a crush on her boss. Her day-dreaming and fantasies eventually escalated when the two shared drinks and ended up in bed together, and just when she thought she should open up to him about the way she, Evan rejected her. But Evan was only fooling himself. His feelings grew towards Jasmine but she was already looking in the direction of another man.

“You’re mine, June.”
“I’m not yours, Mr. Macaulay.”
“You’re mine. Mine alone. Every inch of you belongs to me. I will not have another man touch you, ever,” he growls through gritted teeth.
“I’m not yours. Not until you claim me,” I fire back. “Until then, I’m just a woman who warms your bed… just like I’ll warm other men’s beds too.”
His pupils dilate as his grip tightens around my arm.
“Do not test me, June,” he says, voice low and deadly. “I swear on my life, any man who so much as lays a hand on you… I’ll rip his fingers off and feed them to my dogs.”


June Fontaine had always loved her boyfriend too deeply, giving him her heart even when it tore her apart.
For three years, she lived in the shadow of his ex, a relationship that slowly swallowed her.
Until one night changed everything, and she broke up with him.
Fueled by heartbreak and the bitter sight of her ex moving on like she never mattered, June made a dangerous, impulsive choice that threw her into the arms of a stranger she could not forget—even after she ran from him.
Two weeks later, she saw the stranger again—now richer and more powerful than she could have imagined.
In a city like Las Vegas, men like him do not chase.
They own.
And he wants her.
Obsession becomes possession. Desire becomes dangerous.
He cannot let her go. She cannot stay away.
While he falls for her in a way that feels almost forbidden, he holds back, haunted by a past that refuses to let him claim her.
But she refuses to be hidden.
She refuses to be just another secret in a powerful man’s world.

Emily Hollen and Sebastian were high school sweethearts but a lie created by a vicious ex-girlfriend drove a wedge between the couple causing an end to their relationship.
It's now years later and they're adults. Emily is a hotelier with a passion for traveling and establishing hotels around the world. Her next destination took her to a country she wasn't familiar with and it was governed by a monarchy. What a surprise it was for Emily when she learnt the soon-to-be-king was Sebastian and he was looking for a bride to rule at his side.

The Daniels Family is that awesome billionaire celebrity family, owning the biggest conglomerate in the country. They have the fame and are portrayed as family goals, philanthropists, humble family and all.

Ruby Coker gets married to their one and only son, by arranged marriage of course. Loose ends had to be tied, acting and smiling for the camera is what she had to learn because behind closed doors, the Daniels' family might not be what they portray.

What the public sees might just be what they want them to see and not who they are. Here is a Glimpse into what happens behind the spotlight and what it means to smile for the camera.

Anna Wells' had a terrible habit of hooking up with men who are already in a relationship or even a marriage. Seduction and having her way were the only thing she was actually good at and when she next 'target' was an engaged millionaire, she found herself in a world of trouble, especially when she learnt she was pregnant.

My daughter was taken by rogues, and my husband didn't care.

But when his childhood friend went missing in another attack, he spared no expense searching for her.

I searched for our daughter alone. When I died in the wilderness, I'd been looking for fifty years.

As I bled out that day, I had only one thought—I'm sorry, Lily. I'm so sorry I couldn't find you.

Then I opened my eyes and found myself fifty years in the past, the night before the nightmare began.

I found my husband's vasectomy certificate while sorting medical bills. The procedure was done a year ago. But I was six months pregnant now.

I stared at the date on the paper and my hand just... stopped. I kept checking it again and again, but it was still the same. I was freaking out. I looked down at my bump showing through this baggy sweater, and my hands started shaking.

I got in my car and drove straight to my husband's private club. I needed answers about this, now.

Humans aren't supposed to survive carrying a vampire's child. The immortal blood drains you dry.

Valentine was a pureblood vampire Duke. I was just a mortal. But I was stupid enough to think love was stronger than biology.

Four years ago, I tore myself apart on the birthing bed to bring a half-blood into this world, only to wake up staring at Valentine’s back.

His late father’s favorite concubine, Cecilia, had already snatched my baby from the cradle. And my husband acquiesced to it all.

"He looks just like me," Cecilia purred, tracing my newborn's cheek. "Thank you for giving birth to my son."

Then she tossed a blood jade onto my sheets, like I was some cheap baby-making machine.

I didn't take the payoff. I grabbed the heavy stone and hurled it straight at Valentine’s face.

For four agonizing years, I fought to get my baby back. I hired mercenaries, rogues, and shadow-smugglers, bleeding myself dry to breach the Duke’s estate. Every single attempt failed.

Until tonight. A terrified servant smuggled out a whisper that stopped my heart: Cecilia had fed my son "diluted holy water"—a twisted sacrament meant to literally burn the human half out of his organs.

I didn't hire anyone this time. I tore through the gates myself. I took a guard’s spear through the shoulder and let cursed brambles shred my arms to the bone, just to drag my dying boy out of a burning greenhouse.

But when the agonizing pain of the holy water woke him, Luke looked at me with pure, unadulterated disgust.

"It’s your fault! It’s your filthy human blood!" My four-year-old son spat the words like venom. "Mother Cecilia says if we just burn out this curse, I can be the true heir! If it weren't for you, Father would have claimed me by now! I hate you!"

I froze.

When I finally spoke, my voice was a raw, inhuman scrape. "Call me Mom one last time, and I'll walk out of your life forever."

The biggest mistake of my life was falling in love with my childhood best friend, Cole Blackwood.

I grew up with Cole. He was my childhood best friend. When my mom died in a car accident in high school, his mother Lillian, my mom's best friend, saw that my stepmother didn't like me and took me in. She arranged our engagement. Cole protected me from bullies in high school. I fell for him. We secretly married at eighteen.

Shortly after the wedding, he was kidnapped. That's when everything fell apart. I threw myself off a cliff to draw the kidnappers away and save him. I was in a coma for three months. But when I came back to him, weak and broken, he thought some woman named Sophia Vanderbilt had saved him instead. He started hating me for "abandoning him" and grew cold. I tried to explain. He only believed what Sophia told him. My words meant nothing. 

Cole wanted to divorce me, but his parents refused to allow it. I refused too. Sophia drugged him to get pregnant and trap him into marriage, but he stumbled into the wrong room. He slept with me instead. I got pregnant. She faked videos to make him think they'd been together. She forged evidence that I'd cheated. He wouldn't listen to a word I said. 

Then we were both kidnapped and held hostage on a rooftop. Cole chose to save Sophia. I fell. I lost the baby. After Sophia was rescued, she went to the hospital for a checkup. They found leukemia. She needed a bone marrow transplant. I was the only match, but after everything, my body was too weak. Cole used the "debt" I owed his family to force me to donate. 

I refused. Sophia "died." Cole locked me in a psychiatric hospital and tortured me until I died. 

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day he demanded my bone marrow. This time, looking at his desperate eyes, I said yes and decided to divorce him and leave him for good.

I died the night I refused to postpone the engagement party.

The morning after my death, my parents were still having breakfast with my sister Blair, excitedly planning her award ceremony.

Before I died, the only person who answered my desperate call was my mother. I was being chased by kidnappers at the time, and I begged her to save me, telling her I was dying. But she said, "Stop being so dramatic! You're just trying to get our attention. If you want to die so badly, then go ahead and die."

That was my last call for help before the line went dead, and then I was struck by a car.

I lay on that dark road, bleeding profusely. They thought I was just sulking, hiding away to get attention. They thought if they ignored me, I would come back and apologize to them.

They didn't know I was already dead.

I've been with Michael for five years, stood by him as he clawed his way up from nobody to mafia boss.

He promised me we'd get to city hall and make it official once he made it to the top, and today's supposed to be the day we finally register our marriage.

He's already postponed our registration eight times before because of his first love, Yvaine Price.

This is attempt number nine, and I'm not giving him a tenth.

In my past life, the night before the National Cheerleading Championship finals, my "best friend" Lily, the scholarship student I'd been sponsoring, handed me a brownie she claimed she'd "baked herself."

She knew I had a deadly peanut allergy. Yet she'd loaded it with concentrated peanut butter.

When I collapsed on the locker room floor, hives erupting across my skin, my throat swelling shut until I couldn't make a sound, Lily just covered her mouth and nestled into my boyfriend Liam's arms, whimpering: "I'm so sorry, Chloe. I'm such an idiot. I mixed up the peanut butter with chocolate... you won't blame me, right?"

Of course I blamed you.

The quarterback I'd loved for three years didn't call 911. Instead, he frowned down at me convulsing on the ground.

"Chloe, stop faking, okay?" Liam's voice dripped with annoyance. "Lily already apologized. Why do you have to put on this dramatic show to scare her? You're always so controlling."

Controlling?

My airway was closing. My lungs were on fire. I was dying, and I couldn't force out a single word to tell him.

They didn’t call an ambulance until I stopped moving, but by the time it got there, it was too late. I was already dead.

When the police questioned him, Liam gave false testimony to protect Lily. He claimed I was afraid of losing the competition, so I tried to use an allergic reaction to avoid competing, but accidentally ingested too much of the allergen and died.

The man who said he loved me let me die with the reputation of a coward.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on that day.

When my CEO husband threatens divorce for the 99th time, this time trying to force me to hand over a million-dollar project to his assistant Chloe, I finally stop fighting.
I give him the project without a word.
He's thrilled. Thinks I've finally accepted my place. To reward me, he announces we'll throw a grand celebration for our fifth wedding anniversary.
Chloe finds out and falls apart. Locks herself in the supply closet. Can't bear the thought of watching us celebrate five years of marriage.
Arthur panics. Suddenly the anniversary party becomes a "client dinner" he can't reschedule. He'll take Chloe instead—she's been handling that account, after all.
"You understand how business works," he tells me. "We can celebrate privately later."
I see the photo she posts: Chloe in the restaurant he booked for us, wearing the dress he picked out, his hand covering hers across the table.
I tell him I understand.
He's satisfied. Promises we'll do something even better next month.
He doesn't know I've resigned. Doesn't know he signed the divorce papers three days ago when I slipped them into his contract stack.
We don't have a next month.

Two rival families found themselves in a pickle whe two of their members fall in love.

She's his baby sister's best friend. He's her childhood crush.
They both know its forbidden, and hearts will be crushed if they pursue their desires, but can they resist? Or will they risk everything?

Livie---My first kiss with James
“Fuck it.” He growled, then grabbed my face and kissed me. Hard.
I gasped in shock, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, massaging my tongue with his. My body was on fire as he pulled me closer to him, pressing my body against his.
Moving his hands from the sides of my face, he ran his fingers through my hair before grabbing it in his fist, tugging just enough to make me want more.
Every nerve in my body was begging to be touched,

James---My second kiss with Livie
“Livie, wait.” She turned, locking eyes with me, and I knew then I had to have her.
“You know this is a terrible idea,” I said as I closed the distance between us.
She shook her head, saying, “I don’t care.”
We stood there, eyes locked, the intensity between us growing.
Finally, I pulled her to me as I dipped my head down, allowing my lips to reach hers.
As she deepened the kiss, I knew there was no way I could resist this woman.

I thought I was the happiest woman in the world... until I clicked on that video.

The moment the screen lit up, my entire world came crashing down.

The woman on the bed was Calista - that girl who grew up with us since we were kids. And that hand caressing her skin was wearing the wedding ring I had personally put on Matteo's finger.

"I've missed you so much..."
"You drive me crazy, baby..."

Those sweet words I knew so well completely destroyed me.

Everyone said we were the perfect couple, but who knew this marriage was built on nothing but lies?

Since he's so good at acting, I guess it's time I gave him a show of my own. I'm going to make sure everyone sees what this "perfect husband" really is...

My husband Dante's best friend Luigi died three months ago, and with his last breath, he made Dante promise to take care of his pregnant widow, Maggie. From that moment, Maggie invaded our lives, and I was only four months pregnant at the time.

Then Maggie got caught in a gang shootout. She needed an emergency blood transfusion, and she had this rare blood type—Rhnull. Turns out, I'm Rhnull too.

To save Maggie and her baby, Dante forced me to abort mine.

Five yeas ago, we were hosting a family dinner when I walked into the study and found my father with his mistress.

He looked at me, voice flat and cold: "Alice Russo, you don't tell your mother about this. Trust me, you can't handle the fallout."

I didn't listen. Ran straight to my mother in tears and told her everything.

That night, Mother had her people remove the woman from the property.

The next morning, the woman's daughter Anya ran my mother down with her car at the docks.

That's when I realized, I was completely alone. Because my dad is taking his bastard daughter's side.

I called Victor Castro, my husband, 99 times. He never answered once.

I had a breakdown at the family tribunal. They physically removed me and had me committed to a psychiatric facility in Sicily, the worst kind of place you can imagine.

Five years later, Victor finally spoke to me.

The transport stopped outside the facility that day. Sunlight hit my eyes.

Two guards helped me to the car. My father stood there with a line of his men behind him.

In the crowd, I recognized Peter Thompson, one of my mother's most loyal people.

He gave me the smallest nod. Something flickered in his eyes.

I kept my expression neutral and got in the car.

The door closed. Victor sat across from me.

He lit a cigar and said it without any preamble:

"The day Anya ran your mother down at the docks? I paid for her legal team. I provided the witnesses. I signed the autopsy report myself."

Louis and I missed each other for five years before we finally reconciled.

But after only three years together, he passed away from cancer.

When I opened my eyes again, I had traveled back to the year when he hated me most.

Louis was saying harsh words to me, decisively breaking up:

"Emily. I never want to see you again."

I grabbed his collar and kissed him, cutting off whatever he was about to say.

Louis: ???

I said: "Even if we break up, we can still be friends with benefits, can't we?"

I heard that recording and couldn't believe it. My husband had been having an affair for a whole year, and my six-year-old Jerry had been covering for him this whole time.

Later, at Jerry's birthday party, I overheard his friends: "That's Jerry's nanny. His real mom works overseas."

My son told everyone I was just the nanny.

That day, standing in the hotel hallway, Jerry looked at me and said: "Can you promise to never come find me again? So Michelle can officially be my mom?"

My blood ran cold.

Three years ago, I saved the life of Alessandro Gambino, New York's most powerful mafia boss.

He fell in love with me, a bartender.

His family was dead set against us, but his love won out. We got married.

After we married, he disappeared every month for "punishment day," claiming his family beat him with sixty-six lashes for breaking their rules by staying with me. Watching him suffer tore me apart.

Actully, I'm Sloane Lucchese, sole heir to the largest arms empire on the East Coast, hiding from a family war. I decided to reclaim my family name as soon as possible, so his family would finally accept me.

Finally, on our fifth wedding anniversary, I found out I was pregnant, and my father called to say they'd announce my return in two weeks.

I was going to tell Alessandro everything that night, both pieces of good news.

But that same day, I stumbled onto a secret—one that would destroy me completely.

Betrayed to death by my own brother, I was reborn before the apocalypse descended.
He rushed to seize the god-tier [Copy] talent first, leaving the trash [Purification] talent for me.
He thought that with this talent, he'd have no worries and reign supreme in the apocalypse.
Meanwhile, I quietly closed the last door of my fortress.
He didn't know that his prized copying ability had a fatal flaw.

"Looking for trouble?" His gaze locked onto me, lazy yet sharp.

"Take me home," I breathed, pulse racing.

"Know the risks?" His thumb traced my wrist, sending shivers.

"I want it."

His mouth claimed mine, biting. Fingers shoved under fabric, groping. Rip – fabric gave way.

"Dripping already?" He growled, fingers circling my core. "Eager little thing."

"...Stop—"

"Stop?" He thrust two fingers deep. "Or stop there?"

I cried out. He freed himself, hot steel grinding against bare skin.

_

After three years of cold neglect in her marriage to Idris—who still pined for his ex, Raven—Vera reached her limit. A call from Raven during their first intimate moment was the final straw. Divorce was her only escape.

Seeking solace with a friend, a reckless night led her to Atlas Blackwell, the powerful CEO now leading her company. To silence his family’s demands and forge a new path, they entered a one-year contract marriage.

Now, with the contract expiring, Vera stands at a crossroads. Idris begs for forgiveness, promising change. Yet Atlas, her husband in name only, has proven himself her true anchor.

Two men. One heart. Which future will she choose?