9445 Book(s) Related to revenge of the alpha s rejected mate

When the deputy police chief is found dead in Innsmouth Harbor—naked, bearing a strange symbol, and arranged like a ritual sacrifice—Detective [Name] sees only a staged deception.
The victim’s wife seems too perfect, and his mistress is too eager to confess. Buried records reveal seven ignored distress calls.
Then, the autopsy reveals that the symbol was carved by two people.
Now, the wife’s gentle mask shatters.
The tide pulls back to reveal what’s been hidden all along.

Sarah Mitchell thought she was living the American Dream. A devoted wife to a respected university professor. A loving mother. For thirty years, she clipped coupons, sewed until her hands bled, and made every dollar stretch—because that's what good wives do when money is tight.
Until the day a filing cabinet crashed to the basement floor and shattered everything she believed.
Hidden inside: pay stubs revealing her husband earned twice what he claimed. Bank statements showing hundreds of thousands transferred to another woman. Photographs of a life she never knew existed. And the devastating truth—while she watered down their baby's formula to save money, her husband was financing his mistress's dream house.
One woman. Thirty years of lies. And the courage to reclaim a life she thought was lost forever.

I'm now walking towards the deepest part of the forest, my heart beating so fast, the place so silent and spooky.
"Are you sure about this Isabella?" Yvonne asked, her voice trembling in fear.
"I'm sure myself, but I just want to be far away from those bullies in school" I said with sigh.
I sighted a cave, it was calling out to me, I want to run away, but the cafe intrigued me in a way I can't understand.
I found myself walking further, then I turned around, but to my surprise Yvonne was no longer there.
But yet, I was curious, so I continued walking further in.
My heartbeat accelerated, when my eyes landed on a very scary creature lurking in the darkness, but it said word that lingers into the debts of my memory.
'mate'
Meet the intriguing story of Isabella, she was known to be very skinny and ugly, no one wanted to be her friend in school,then there was a faithful day she was bullied that was the day everything about her life changed.
The very day she decided to explore the forest, not knowing that was a beginning of something mysterious and delirious.

Evan Hale had spent three years being invisible.

In the port city of Grayhaven, that meant midnight towing calls, grease under his nails, a cheap apartment above a closed pawnshop, and a daughter who still believed the world could be repaired with pancakes and tape. He let people call him broke. He let his ex-wife call him a failure. He let rich men look through him as if poverty had made him harmless.

Then Lily came to the tow yard with a hospital bracelet on her wrist and terror in her eyes.

The paperwork said Evan had lost his rights. The doctors said it was an emergency. The heir to Grayhaven's largest medical charity smiled like the city already belonged to him.

They were all wrong.

Because before Evan became a night-shift tow driver, he had been the man federal teams called when protected witnesses vanished, sealed evidence moved, and dangerous people needed to be found before sunrise. He had buried that life to keep his daughter safe.

Now the people hunting Lily had put her name on a list he recognized.

And Evan Hale was done hiding.

After four years of trying to conceive, I suddenly realized my husband had been drugging me so i couldn't give birth and when i asked he had shamelessly said
"he wasn't ready to be a father."

But, when I caught him in the hospital with his pregnant best friend, I couldn't bear it again and decided to leave.

The spring semester at the Academy had barely begun when Mother's enchanted letter burst into flames on my desk, that familiar acrid smoke already filling the air.
The smoke swirled and her voice emerged, sharp with anxiety:
"Cecilia, have you found a human man yet?"
"Less than a month left before we must present our tribute to the tribe. Noah is your own brother—can you really stand by and watch him die?"
Surrendering Noah meant certain death.
Over eighty Medusa females in the tribe were of breeding age. Noah had been frail since birth, his scales pale as paper.
If he were dragged onto that cold stone altar to serve as a breeding tool, he wouldn't survive the first night.
But where the hell was I supposed to find a human man?

Bryan and I had been together for a year.

He was gentle, thoughtful. I had no reason not to trust him.

Until the night the typhoon hit.

He called. He said he, his mother, and his brother's family were outside my door, soaking wet. They just needed somewhere to stay for the night.

I walked to the door.

My hand reached for the doorknob.

That's when I saw her in the hallway mirror.

My future self.

Covered in blood. Clothes shredded.

She was screaming at me. "Don't open the door! They'll kill you!"

Three years ago, I married Rex Cavano—New York's most dangerous mafia don—for this face. Not for love. Because I looked like his stepsister Isabella, the woman his family tore from him and sent to Rome.

I thought time would make him forget her. Until three months ago, when she came home a widow, and I finally understood: a substitute is always just a substitute. When the original returns, the fake gets thrown away.

So I made a decision.

I tricked him into signing divorce papers and accepted a job in a war zone in Colombia.

I'm leaving. Taking our child with me—a secret he'll never know—disappearing from his world forever.

I was nine months pregnant, soaking in the tub, when an anonymous email popped up.
The first attachment was my husband’s medical report. [Severe Azoospermia. 100% Sterile.]
I touched my swollen belly. If Arthur was sterile, whose baby was this?
The second attachment was a news article. [Billionaire's Pregnant Wife Drowns in Master Bath.]
The publication date was tomorrow morning. I thought it was a sick prank.
Then, the bathroom door opened. My husband stood there, loosening his tie.
"You look beautiful tonight," he murmured.

For ten years, Blair drew only black stones from the moonbone box. Her pack called it the Moon Goddess’ will. Her parents told her she was simply unlucky, while every whitestone reward went straight to her favoured younger sister Luna. On her twelfth birthday, she died locked behind a bedroom door. Trapped as a ghost, she watched her family carry on without her—until she uncovered the brutal truth: there had never been any white stones inside the box. It was all a lie built to justify their favouritism. This is not a revenge story. It is the slow, crushing aftermath of a family’s belated regret, when remorse comes far too late to bring the forgotten daughter home.

At our seventh wedding anniversary dinner, my husband Nathan audaciously discussed the name of the child his mistress Victoria was carrying, speaking in Spanish right in front of me.
They presumed I could not understand. Yet, not only did I comprehend every word, but I had also long ago uncovered evidence of their affair—including those passionate videos filmed in his car...
But when I vanished completely, he went into a frenzy.
When the news of the 'plane crash' broke, he spent fifty million dollars, deploying twelve rescue helicopters to search relentlessly through the storm for seven days and nights.
When the rescue team informed him that 'there were no survivors,' this once indomitable man knelt on the deck, weeping inconsolably like a child who has lost his mother.
Little did he know, there was no trace of me on that 'lost' plane.
And now, it was my turn to make him experience the true meaning of loss.

I spent two years alongside the Mafia don, serving as his most obedient secretary and most transparent wife, watching as he bestowed all his tenderness upon his shining muse. With great effort, I deceived him into signing the divorce papers and, turning away, fled to war-torn Syria, carrying his child within me. I believed I would never cross paths with him again, until one day, drenched in blood, he knelt amidst the rubble, desperately clawing at the stones, screaming my name. It was only after I left that he truly understood the meaning of loss...

On our fifth anniversary, my Mafia Don husband kissed my cheek, then switched to Corsican to tell our adopted daughter how much he enjoyed getting her pregnant piece by piece.

He didn't know I spoke seven languages. Corsican included.

He didn't know that in three days, I would vanish — no body, no trail, no goodbye.

When I disappeared, he lost his mind.

Now it was my turn to teach him what losing someone really meant.

My Mafia boss husband brought his late brother's widow and child back to our estate and demanded I move into the nanny's quarters..

This time, I didn't pull a gun and fight with him like I did in my past life. Instead, I brought out my suitcase to pack and make room.

Later, for our daughter's birthday, Julian gifted her a foal.

Beatrice's son cried and threw a tantrum, demanding it.

My five-year-old daughter calmly handed over the lead rope. "Daddy said Leo doesn't have a papa anymore, so from now on, my papa is his papa."

"I should learn to be generous."

At first, Julian was extremely gratified by our tolerance and maturity. But gradually, he panicked as he realized—

There was no more love in my eyes, and our daughter no longer opened her arms to ask for his hugs.

Little did he know, in our previous life, in order to protect that mother and son, he banished us to the subterranean water dungeon.

While my daughter and I contracted the plague, dying in despair amidst the stench and the gnawing of rats, he was holding that woman's hand in a brightly lit banquet hall, announcing to the entire Family that she would be under his lifelong protection.

Reborn into this life, my daughter and I no longer fought, no longer made a fuss.

But we also never needed Julian again.

Everyone in the Night Realm knew that my husband, the Vampire Lord Valerius, suffered from a blood curse that fiercely repelled the opposite sex.

Any skin-to-skin contact with a woman would cause his flesh to fester and trigger a soul-shattering backlash.

That included me.

In our century together, we never shared a single embrace.

On the day we forged our Blood Pact, I tried to touch him, only to be violently thrown back, coughing up blood upon impact.

That was until vampire hunters set our ancestral castle ablaze. Pinned beneath broken timber, I reached out to him for help on pure instinct.

Valerius dodged my hand. Instead, he turned and gathered that terrified little human girl, Genevieve, into his arms, comforting her with unwonted tenderness:

"Don't be afraid. I'll get you out of here."

His body showed not a single sign of rejection.

It turns out that a so-called deadly blood curse automatically breaks in the presence of true love.

Since my century of pathetic groveling had only ever moved myself, I decided I no longer wanted this Blood Pact.

At nine, I sacrificed everything to protect my mother from the fate of my past life. I sent her away and suffered fifteen years of agony in my father’s dungeon. Years later, the powerful Luna Selene reunites with me, bringing only suspicion and insult. Even her offer of her own life cannot atone for the past. Some sins cannot be washed away by death.

No one knew I was an addict.
Not to alcohol, not to drugs, but to the rawest, dirtiest kind of union.
To keep up the facade of this respectable job, to stop myself from turning into some desperate, heat-crazed stray begging for a man’s touch on the street, I had to swallow those little blue pills every day.
Until that damn blizzard trapped me with thirty hockey players reeking of sweat and testosterone, and my pills—gone.

I am a Kitsune exiled from the East. Every twenty years, I must consume a soul soaked in pure sin to grow a new tail and survive.
With only ten days left to live, I was desperate. Then I met Julian. He gently paid off my crushing debts with a smile so warm, I almost thought I’d met an angel.
Until he leaned in close. Beneath his expensive woodsy cologne, I caught the heavy, undeniable stench of fresh women's blood.
I lowered my head, hiding the sudden thrill in my eyes.
I had finally found my monster.

This was the 99th time Sabrina stood me up for our wedding appointment.
Just as I was leaving, I got a text from that new male student of hers—attached was a photo of him shirtless, wrapped around her sleeping form with a caption that screamed pure provocation:
[If you really loved her, you wouldn't trap her with marriage. Can't you see she doesn't want this?]
When she finally picked up my call, her tone was beyond annoyed.
"Colin's having a meltdown over mixing the wrong colors, and if this piece gets ruined, it's on you. A marriage certificate is just a piece of paper—we'll do it another time."
She had no idea that, thanks to Colin "accidentally" spilling that cheap turpentine, my severe asthma was raging. Every breath felt like swallowing shards of glass dipped in blood.
And that "another time" she mentioned? It was never going to happen.
After hanging up, I calmly tossed the wedding ring I'd bought for her.
Then I turned and took the groom's suit from the senior who'd had a crush on me for seven years.

I'm the only daughter of a mafia leader. I married Marco, an outsider, against my father's wishes.

Six months ago, my father died in a car accident. Marco took over part of the family business. One day when I was feeling down, I passed through the slums and saved a girl named Gianna who was being beaten for stealing food. I took her in as my assistant and treated her like a sister.

But when I was six months pregnant, I walked into the company break room and found Gianna in lingerie, seducing Marco.

I ordered my guards to send her back to the slums immediately.

Marco tried to plead for her. I cut him off coldly: "I don't want to see her again."

He went silent for a moment but didn't oppose my decision.

Over the next three months, Marco seemed warm and caring on the surface but grew increasingly distant. I thought he was just busy with work and decided to help him after the baby was born.

My due date is this week.

Last night, Marco lulled me to sleep like always, his voice so gentle.

But now when I wake up, I find myself lying in the middle of a deserted forest.

And my husband, holding Gianna whom I had sent away, looked at me arrogantly and said, "Since you love sending people away so much, I suppose it shouldn't be a problem for me to send you here to give birth, should it?"

The tour bus hung precariously over the cliff's edge, smoke billowing from its engine. Inside, two pregnant women were trapped.

"Captain Walker, both pregnant women are in critical condition. Who do we save first?"

I had been pierced by a steel rod through my abdomen, my water had broken, and I was screaming desperately at my husband:

"Ryan Walker! My water broke! The baby's dying!"

On the other side, his first love Stella clutched her chest, her face deathly pale:

"Ryan, I'm having a heart attack! Save me!"

The man in the firefighter uniform charged toward Stella's side without hesitation.

"Captain, your wife's position is easier to reach!" team member Mike shouted.

"SHUT UP! Follow orders!"

He rushed to Stella without looking back, leaving behind one sentence:

"She won't die. I'm her husband, I take full responsibility."

No one would believe that Lorenzo Moretti's wife—the mafia Don's wife—

had to kneel in his study and beg him to approve three hundred thousand dollars to save her brother's life.

All because he thought a woman from Brooklyn's slums needed constant reminding of her place.

Just last night, kidnappers sent photos of my brother's severed finger, and I got on my knees begging him to sign that goddamn form.

His trusted advisor Sofia stamped "REJECTED" in red ink, sneering: "Insufficient proof."

Lorenzo didn't know I endured this humiliation because I once loved him.

Now Sofia told me my brother was dead, dumped in the Hudson River.

I don't need to be his caged canary anymore.

My husband sent me to a clinic to erase my "attachment distress" toward him and our daughter.

He said I was too obsessive, too clingy, that my love was suffocating him. So the day I found he'd booked three tickets to Zurich—one for himself, one for our daughter, one for another woman—I signed the consent form.

He said the treatment was temporary. That once I was "better," we'd still be a family.

Three months later, I walked out of that clinic. I remembered the white roses at our wedding. I remembered sitting up all night with our daughter when she had a fever. I remembered every time he'd told me he loved me. All those memories were still there, as clear as if they'd happened yesterday.

But when he stood before me holding flowers, eyes red, asking why I wouldn't fight anymore, why I wouldn't cry, why I didn't love him anymore—I could only tell him calmly:

I remember loving you.

That feeling, though? It's really gone.

He thought he was erasing my pain. He had no idea what he'd actually erased.

Look, I'd heard the rumors: Skyward International's flight attendants? You never see 'em anywhere but the airport. Not once. Kinda spooky, but my coworker drops this smirk—"First time? You'll get it"—and I'm boarding Flight 6108, heart pounding.

This chief stewardess, Tiffany? Stunning. Locks eyes, buckles me in, perfume hits like a drug. Later, service cart rolls up. "Airsick? C'mon." Door shuts in the crew lounge. Boom—she's on her knees. "Relaxation service." Zipper down, wipes me clean, then swallows my cock whole. Balls-deep, tongue on my sack, cheeks sucking vacuum. "Big one," she whispers, eyes pleading like she needs my okay.

I got paid to test-sleep an heiress's fiancé.
One problem: he's my boss.
Bigger problem: I've been catfishing him online for six months—as his fiancée.
Now I'm pregnant. And he just called my real name.

Bianca McIntyre once had it all—wealth, power, and the promise of a fairytale life. But when tragedy struck and her family died, she made the mistake of trusting Marcus Steele, the charming heir who became her husband. For three years, he betrayed her, drained her inheritance, and shattered her heart. On their anniversary, she caught him in bed with her best friend—and walked away from everything.

On a flight to Spain, broken and desperate, Bianca met a mysterious older man who offered her three nights of freedom. Three nights of passion, escape, and raw desire. She never asked his name… until fate revealed the shocking truth.

Her stranger wasn’t just any man—he was Leon Steele. Marcus’s father. The ruthless patriarch of the Steele empire.

Drawn into a forbidden affair, Bianca finds herself caught in a dangerous game of lust, power, and betrayal. Marcus wants to destroy her, Leon wants to protect her, and secrets threaten to tear everything apart.

Now Bianca must fight for her legacy, her heart, and the child who could change everything. But will she survive her father-in-law's forbidden passion?

Mara Vale has survived Moonspire Academy by staying quiet.

She is a treaty ward, a scholarship student, and the wolf everyone expects to fail. During the public Moon Rank rite, the Alpha Stone gives her no rank at all. The Council calls her defective. Her foster pack calls her unstable. Before nightfall, they order her wolf sealed before her first full shift.

Then Mara bleeds on the stone, and the stone cracks.

Her blood hears what powerful wolves have buried: broken Alpha commands, rotten pack oaths, and the erased scent of a mother she was never allowed to remember. The more they try to silence her, the more the old territory answers.

Kael Draven, heir to the strongest Alpha house, is ordered to stand against her. Protecting Mara could cost him his succession, his pack, and every future he was raised to inherit. But obeying means letting the girl his mark answers be sealed as nothing.

Mara does not want to be claimed. She wants her wolf alive.

With a disgraced Luna candidate, a rival pack commander, and a healer hiding survivor scars, Mara must walk into the rites built to erase girls like her and make the Pack smell the truth.

They marked her omega.

The Moon called her heir.

Sophia Johnson, a dedicated reporter, finds herself entangled in a passionate and complex love triangle. It all begins at an ex-CEO's retirement party, where she encounters Harry Stone, the irresistible billionaire heir and CEO of the company. What starts as a magnetic attraction soon evolves into a risky proposal.

Desperate to hold onto his CEO position, Harry suggests an audacious plan to Sophia: she should pretend to be his fiancée for five months, and in return, he offers her a substantial financial reward. Sophia, burdened by crushing student loan debts and the financial struggles of her family, reluctantly agrees. What she doesn't anticipate is the emotional rollercoaster this contract engagement will become.

As the charade unfolds, Sophia falls deeply in love with Harry, only to have her heart shattered when he ends their arrangement to pursue what he believes is his ideal partner. Despite being compensated for her role, Sophia carries a heart-wrenching secret—one she only discovers months after leaving the company: she is carrying Harry's child. The tumultuous nature of their contract engagement makes her hesitant to return to him.

Amid a whirlwind of love, desire, secrets, and betrayal, Sophia grapples with her feelings and the life-changing consequences of her decisions. Will Harry ever come to realize he has a child with Sophia, and will Sophia emerge from this web of deceit and passion with her heart and future intact?

She just wanted to start over.

After a childhood marked by trauma and invisible scars, Isabella Monteiro decided to live in silence, hiding her pain behind a charming smile.

But fate has never been kind.

Caught between two completely opposite worlds, Isabella finds herself at the center of a war for her heart.

On one side, Alexander Carter, the perfect CEO—sophisticated, polite, a man who seems to have stepped out of a dream. He protects her, respects her, and awakens in her the feeling of finally being safe.

On the other, Dante Navarro, a dangerous drug dealer with a gaze that can burn to the soul. Brutal, intense, and with an obsession that can destroy her... or free her.

Between Alexander's heaven and Dante's shadows, Isabella will discover that love can be her salvation... or her ruin.

“Don’t worry. She can’t see a thing.”

The familiar male voice came from behind the half-open door.

“So she wouldn’t know even if I kissed you right now?”

A woman laughed softly and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Only a few steps away, Rosalie watched the man she had loved for years lower his head and kiss another woman.

What they didn’t know was that her sight had returned.

The betrayal wasn’t even the cruelest part. When Rosalie checked their records, she discovered that the marriage she believed was real had never been legally registered. The man who had promised to protect her forever had used her blindness to cheat right in front of her—and now he planned to marry another woman and steal everything that should have belonged to Rosalie.

If he could give her a fake marriage, she could come back with a real husband.

So Rosalie married Cassian Thackeray.

The moment they signed the papers, she recognized him.

He was the firefighter who had once carried her out of a burning building—the mysterious man she had been searching for ever since.

But Rosalie said nothing.

Cassian believed he had married a fallen heiress who simply needed a legal husband. Rosalie believed he was nothing more than a dangerous, emotionally untouchable fire chief.

Their rules were simple: separate bedrooms, separate lives, and absolutely no falling in love.

But Cassian was always there when someone tried to humiliate her, his arm locking possessively around her waist.

“I’m her husband,” he warned. “Who gave you permission to touch her?”

And when Rosalie treated his injuries late at night, her fingers traced the hard planes of his bare, heated chest. It was supposed to be medical. Nothing more.

Until he trapped her between his arms, their mouths barely an inch apart.

“Your hands are shaking,” he murmured.

“It’s a professional response.”

“Is that so?” His palm slowly closed around the back of her neck, his voice dropping lower. “Then why is your heart beating so fast?”

Again and again, they tested the boundaries. Again and again, they almost kissed—only to stop at the final inch.

Then Cassian came home before dawn, smelling of smoke and cold rain, and found the lamp she had left burning and the milk she had kept warm for him.

“You waited for me all night.”

“I forgot to turn off the light.”

Cassian stared at her, his thumb pressed against the frantic pulse in her wrist.

“Rosalie, your body is much more honest than your mouth.”

She was beginning to forget that their marriage was only a contract. She was beginning to forget that she had married him merely to reclaim everything stolen from her.

But then Cassian’s signature appeared on confidential corporate documents.

And Lucian Thackeray—the mysterious billionaire heir who never showed his face in public—had the same unforgettable gray-blue eyes as her husband.

As Rosalie begins digging into the man sleeping just one room away, she realizes Cassian has never told her who he truly is.

And their marriage may never have been an accident.

The female presidential candidate slipped a real-time tracker into my bag, then handed me the divorce papers.

She still thought I would coddle her like I had for the past five years and stay by her side.

"Fine." I signed the papers and left.

She started tracking me, driving away any women around me, showing up at my house in the middle of the night begging me to come back.

But... weren't you the one who wanted the divorce?

My wife and my best friend had an affair for sixteen years, and I raised their illegitimate child for sixteen years.
It wasn't until Brody suddenly became rich that they dropped their pretense and kicked me out like trash.
Ironically, a month later, extreme cold struck, and Brody's vast fortune became worthless, leaving the three of them huddled in their apartment waiting to die.
I took them in because I felt sorry for them.
When the food ran out, they tied me to the basement, cut off pieces of my flesh, and roasted and ate them.
Reborn, in this life, I will make them kneel and beg for death.

She was my best friend — until she used a soul-swapping potion to steal my body, my face, and my man.
In my past life, I was trapped inside her fat, ugly shell and drowned in the freezing depths of the sea.
Reborn on the day before the swap, I didn't expose her.
I smiled and drank the tea.
After she left, I picked up a knife and carved two deep gashes across my own face.
Then I threw myself from the second floor.
The next morning she woke up giddy with excitement. The moment she looked in the mirror, her screams echoed through the entire hospital.
Meanwhile, I opened my eyes in her Mafia Godfather father's estate — and walked straight into the family council.
She wanted my beauty? She could have it.
The power she was desperate to throw away? I'll take it.

My name is Leo Carson, I am eighteen years old, and I am dying.
Three years ago, my uncle Thomas stole the 500,000 Aurora Coins and the Awakening Potion that my parents left me with a fake psychiatric evaluation report, and threw me into the Rust Zone to die.
For the past three years, I have worked as a child laborer in a chemical plant, working sixteen hours a day and being treated like a dog.
Until Hela, the goddess of death, appeared and gave me the Book of Judgment . As long as I write down the other person's name and manner of death, they will die.
Now, those who have wronged me, it's time for you to pay your debts.

I am the worst "loser" in London's underground boxing ring, getting beaten bloody in every fight.
Nobody knows that I was once a top agent who struck fear into the hearts of the entire CIA—"Death" Marcus Kane.
Seven years ago, I was falsely accused of treason and forced to live in anonymity, making a living by throwing fights.
I just want to see my daughter live one more day, even if it means being humiliated like a dog in the boxing ring.
Until that day, I watched with my own eyes as my enemy poured my daughter's life-saving medicine on the ground and forced my wife to marry someone else.
I picked up that satellite phone that had been gathering dust for seven years...

"Call me brother," he whispered, pressing me against the wall, his erection hard against my stomach.
For twelve years, we played this dangerous game. By day, I was his obedient foster sister. By night, I was his obsession.
He never went all the way—saving me for marriage, he claimed—but he did everything else. His fingers knew every wet corner of my body. His mouth had tasted my pleasure a thousand times. He groomed me to be the perfect toy for his bed.
"You're mine, Julie. Only mine."
But then Lena came back.
Suddenly, the bedroom door was locked. Suddenly, I heard her screams of pleasure instead of mine.
He didn't touch me anymore. He looked at me with cold, dead eyes and said, "You're just a sister. Stop acting like a jealous lover."
He threw away twelve years of intimacy for a fresh body.
I packed my bags, leaving behind the lingerie he bought me, the toys we used.
When he finally realized Lena was a fake, he came running back, eyes wild, wanting to claim what he thought was still his property.
"Spread your legs for me, Julie," he begged, reaching for me.
I slapped his hand away. "Go fuck your sister, Daniel. I'm done."

"You are playing with fire, doll," he warned, eyes dark and dangerous.
"A very deadly fire." I looked at the chains on the bed again and pictured them clamped on my wrists, my tits and pussy in full display... Maybe deadly will do for now...


Harbouring feelings for someone older than me seems deadly especially when the said person is my uncle. Despite knowing this, the thirst for a drop from his hot-as-hell river of sexiness can't be quenched. Fantasies turned into cravings which in turn spurred the implementation of my devious plans to get him all to myself.
Will this blood barrier push him away from acknowledging this mutual feeling of lust, or will his fuel be poured on my burning coals?

Alice and Robert belonged to important families, although they had known each other since they were children, they did not see each other again until they learned that they were engaged. Robert refused to marry her, as he neither loved her nor knew her. When Alice learned that Robert did not want that marriage, she was relieved, as she did not want to marry him either and loved another man, so she appealed to her parents to annul the engagement, but they refused, as if they refused it would seem that they were more important and powerful, so the Taylors had to honor that engagement. Everything went on until the day of the wedding and once celebrated, Robert vented his anger against young Alice for forcing him to marry her and not refuse as he did. But Alice tries to explain to him that she didn't want to marry him either, and even confesses to him that she loves someone else. But those words only make Robert angry, believing all the time that Alice feels superior to him and so he demands her to tell him who is the man she loves, but Alice can't tell him that, because he is Robert's best friend. Jared Sinclair

Born in the slums, Wendy was heartlessly dumped by her self made boyfriend.
"You're not good enough for me."
She sneered, smashed his Ferrari, then climbed into a limited edition hypercar and drove away.
What her ex never knew was that the "burden" he abandoned was the one who made him successful.
Then her birth mother, who had abandoned her years ago, suddenly returned and demanded that Wendy go home and marry in place of her disabled sister.
Wendy smiled.
"Fine. If you all want me back so badly, I'll come home. And I'll repay every single one of you."

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

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

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

She thought dead men tell no tales.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was the hottest A-list actress in Hollywood, until a few deepfaked videos of me "abusing assistants" and malicious photos of my "rotting face" dragged me straight to hell.
In just one month, I became a monster despised by the entire internet.
Facing tens of thousands of death threats telling me to "die with a rotting face."
They wanted me to die crying. I didn't. Instead, I decided to express my deepest gratitude to the bullies who ruined my life.
And my "thank you" is going to cost a fortune.
But I never imagined the real monster wasn't hiding behind a screen—he was holding the syringe.

I used to think Jude was my one way out, my only salvation when my life fell straight into hell.
He pulled strings to get my mom into emergency surgery and helped me handle my dad’s funeral. He even promised he’d give me a home.
I believed him. So I married him. And for eight years, I let him take my blood every single month; he said it was for “routine health monitoring.”—Eight years, 9,999 milliliters.
Until that night, when I heard him with my own ears, talking to his friend:
“Lily’s blood type is rare. Lynn and her mom? They’re just ready-made blood banks.”
He didn’t marry me out of love. He married me to keep a “living blood bag” in hand.
I rested a hand on my still-flat belly and I laughed.
So this was what our marriage really was. From start to finish, it was a slaughter dressed up as love.
Fine. Then let’s see when it was time for the sacrifice, who ended up on the altar.

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

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

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

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

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

I thought he'd let it go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

We'll see how they explain this one.

In a brutal betrayal, champion racer Vivian's life is destroyed by the man she loves. John, her partner and team owner, sabotages her car, causing a crash that kills their unborn child and leaves her gravely injured. He then coldly abandons her to celebrate with his true lover, Sharon—the rival he secretly engineered the accident for. As Vivian confronts the loss of her child and career, her suffering is magnified by the couple's relentless cruelty, culminating in John allowing Sharon to permanently cripple her legs. Emotionally and physically shattered, and forced into a humiliating existence, Vivian uncovers the full extent of their conspiracy. With every hope extinguished, she orchestrates a final, desperate escape from her nightmare, leaving a life of vengeance and sorrow behind.

The Queen of Blades, Rika dies, hoping for a better life for the remaining survivers leaving a ruined world and she regrets not living a long happy and full life before her death. She awakes as a newborn in a strange but peaceful environment, in the same world of the novel Dreaming Kiss. Rika is reborn as Ulrika Vincent and realizes that she's got a scumbag of a Prince to cut out of her new life. And she wants to save her favorite character, Grand Duke Aric Solheim and what better way to do that than have a one night stand with him and get pregnant by him!

In an elite suburb of New York City, girls are dying. That doesn’t happen in Greenvale, with its immaculate lawns, exclusive yacht clubs and multi-million dollar mansions. But behind its perfect façade, its trimmed hedges and luxury cars, a darkness lies. Girls, dependent on Adderall, outmaneuver each other to get into top colleges, while the mothers’ need to live vicariously only makes it worse. Bella DeFranco is one of the Bronx’s top SVU detectives. At only 37, she disarms everyone with her stunning good looks, yet she is as tough as most men—and a lot smarter, too. Yet when is summoned to Greenvale, she finds herself getting lost in a case that even she can’t comprehend. She stumbles into a land of secrets, a place where husbands hide their pasts from their wives, where friends are not what they seem, and where no one wants to know too much. As she digs deeper into layers of suburban dysfunction, she comes to learn that, behind all the fake smiles, there is a subtle violence--rivaling even her crime-ridden streets of the Bronx. With a killer on the loose, time running out, and a new partner who never recovered from his washed-up alcoholic days, the odds are stacked against Bella. She is determined, though, to save these girls, whatever the cost. Yet as she gets close, the depth of psychosis she discovers shocks even her….