6158 Book(s) Related to the tyrants annals

I've been married to billionaire Joseph Miller for three years. Pregnant three times. Aborted three times.

Every time, my husband stood outside the operating room, watching them wheel me in.

The first baby, my mother-in-law Victoria said had spinal deformities. The second, my father-in-law Richard showed a "report" claiming heart defects.

I believed them. I thought it was my fault, something wrong with my body.

Until the third pregnancy.

This time I secretly went to another hospital—DNA showed 99.9% match with Joseph, every prenatal indicator perfect.

I rushed home clutching the report, thinking I could finally save my child.

Victoria glanced at it and tossed it on the coffee table. "You are carrying a healthy baby. But the Miller family doesn't need it."

My in-laws forcibly dragged me to the clinic. I screamed to Joseph for help: "That's your child!"

His eyes were red, but he still let them kill my baby.

Desperate, I demanded a divorce. He coldly refused, tearing at my clothes: "Stop being dramatic. Time for the fourth."

I finally understood—I wasn't his wife. I was their breeding machine.

But why? Why force me to keep getting pregnant, only to kill every healthy baby?

Until that night, I pushed open the attic door that had been locked for three years—

And finally understood everything.

Alice, pregnant and vulnerable, is coerced onto a perilous ride by Frank, goaded by his malicious sister Amelia. "You love danger, don't you?" Frank sneers, ignoring her desperate cries that their child is at risk. After losing the baby, she's abandoned in the hospital. "Pull the plug on the ECMO," Frank coldly orders over the phone, amidst the clatter of mahjong tiles.

Amelia torments Alice further, screeching, "You're nothing but a charity case!" and framing her for corporate crimes. When Alice discovers Amelia caused her mother's suicide, she exposes their schemes.

Frank, ruined, exacts a brutal revenge on Amelia, screaming, "This is for our child!" before taking his own life. In the end, Alice, stronger than ever, finds love and peace running a seaside motel, Frank's final letter laying bare Amelia's treachery.

She was forced to accept a marriage proposal from a strange billionaire to pay her huge debt and to take back her inheritance left to him when her mother died.

Nathan’s lawyer handed her the documents, including the marriage certificate.

Things were moving much faster than she had imagined they would, and everything happening seemed too easy. Too good to be true - a voice in her mind cried out - Be careful! It’s a trap! If it was a trap, though, it was very cleverly hidden.

Crystal contemplated the proposal for a moment before addressing Mike, his lawyer. “I only have two questions,” she said. “The first question is this: if I sign it, does it mean that I don’t need to pay my debt?”

Mike: “Yes. And your second question...?”

Crystal: “Okay, I haven’t reached the legal age for marriage yet, so even if I sign it, it won’t take effect. Is that right?”

Nathan quickly raised his hand and said, “If I say that it is effective, no one will dare to say that it isn’t. Do you believe that?”

“I suppose so,” Crystal admitted. She hesitated for a moment, and then she signed the marriage certificate.

Months later, she asked for a divorce from him. He stared at her in silence, then he uttered, “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“What does that have to do with our divorce?” Crystal asked.

“I’m only asking because I care about you,” Nathan murmured.

“I’ll be happy if you say that you care about me,” Nathan continued. “Why must you torture me this way? Haven’t I done enough to prove my love for you?”

She was stunned hearing his confession and the words stuck in her throat.

"Wait," she breathed. "We have to stop. This isn’t just conversation."
"It's better than talking," he murmured, kissing her neck.
"No, we need to have a conversation," she insisted. "Get off me, let me get dressed."
"You can't make love while dressed," he replied, playfully biting her earlobe.
"Listen to me," she urged. "I'm trying to be serious, alright? I realize I shouldn’t have fled."
"What’s this about?" he asked, his tone growing cold.
"I simply want to resolve things," she said earnestly, gazing into his eyes.
A flicker of disgust crossed his features, and his lips turned downward, "I see what's going on. You think I'll forget your betrayal if you let me fuck you."

She fled from her wedding, which led to her own downfall and became a lasting nightmare. She chose to elope with another man instead of the one who truly loved her. That man deceived her, coaxing her into abandoning her husband, ultimately driving her to her demise.
She returned to consciousness and found herself lying on their matrimonial bed.
A firm yet gentle grip enclosed her wrist, leading her hand to the front of his pants. She observed her small, pale hand beside his large, tanned fingers, allowing him to press her palm against him.
It would be so simple to let him take control, to surrender to him. She craved it. She yearned to feel his strong hands exploring every part of her body.

Marry a billionaire after a one-night stand：

“We have agreed to leave each other to our own business. I hope you have a good reason for coming here.”

“Yes, we agreed to that, but not to a sexless marriage. Sex is essential for a lasting marriage.” Selene chuckled.

Clint also smiled, then sneered. “Do you like sex without love? Did you marry me because you enjoyed the sex that much?”

Selene frowned, aware of the implications of his words. But she did not know why he said it.

And the unopened file named “HER” appeared in her mind again.

“I believe it’s important for a healthy relationship.”

“Only the sex?”

“I thought we agreed on it.”

“Nonsense!” Clint exploded with anger.

After thinking for a while, Selene replied, “Okay, sorry for disturbing you. I’m going to bed.”

Before she went back to the bedroom and lay on the bed, Clint suddenly caught up with her and pushed her onto the bed. “What are you doing?!” Selene was frightened.

Clint was violently tearing Selene’s home dress and groaned. “Fulfilling my obligation as a husband!”

On a stormy night, a horrific crash unfolded on the overpass. The victim was brought to the city forensic center.
My husband, Ethan, slipped on his gloves and expertly examined my shattered body, his voice detached. "Record this: Female, approximately twenty-five years old, suffered severe trauma before death."
His assistant sighed. "That's rough. Not a single family member showed up."
Just then, the assistant slid a misshapen silver band off my mud-streaked finger.
"Sir, this ring... isn't it identical to the one you keep in your desk drawer?"
With a sharp clatter, the scalpel slipped from Ethan's hand and hit the floor.

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

My name is Jack Morris, a bottom-rung janitor on the docks.
Every day, people walk all over me, and I live on moldy bread.
Until one day, an old man I saved handed me a photograph. "This is my granddaughter. She's being held at the Black Swan Casino."
That used to be my place. Ten years ago.
Her father was a brother who died in my place.
I was once the king of the underground.
And now, at the banquet celebrating the tenth anniversary of my death, they're treating that old man's granddaughter like a toy.
If my disappearance only made those animals more brazen...
Then they can finish that drink and celebrate their own deaths next.