754 Book(s) Related to who is grant trout's dad

Due to an arranged marriage between our families, I married Damien Blackwood, heir to a business empire.

During five years of marriage, I tried hard to play the perfect wife, bore him a daughter Lily, thinking I had finally won his love.

Until his first love Serena returned from abroad, I watched him rekindle his passion for another woman, watched them rekindle their old flame.

A car accident changed everything.

I was taken to court, sentenced to three years in prison, becoming a "murderer" despised by everyone.

And he personally sent me to prison.

I'm a figure skating prodigy from one of the wealthiest families in the country. I'm also an idiot.

I believed that if I was kind enough, people would be kind in return. So I sponsored Haley Dunning, a scholarship skater on our team, and treated her like my own little sister.

The day before the NCAA qualifier, she came up to me with a sports drink, said she wanted to help keep my energy up.

I drank it. Went down on the ice with a broken leg. Drug test came back positive for banned stimulants.

Overnight, I went from the queen of the rink to the face of a scandal no one could stop talking about.

Expelled from school. Torn apart on social media. Calloway Corporation's stock in freefall.

Haley stood in front of the cameras, tears in her eyes: "Piper just wanted to win so badly. I never thought she'd go this far..."

I fell into a depression. Couldn't sleep without medication.

Then one day, she showed up at my hospital room with my boyfriend, bearing "comfort": a cup of water and a few pills: "Piper, take your meds, okay? This is all my fault for being so stupid..."

Three minutes later, I'm coughing up blood, convulsing on the floor.

Right before I died, I caught the look on her face. That sweet, innocent face. A slow, vicious smile spreading across it.

She knocked over the pill bottle and started screaming: "I grabbed the wrong ones! I mixed up her antidepressants with some old person's heart meds! I'm so stupid!"

My boyfriend pulled her into his arms. Didn't even glance at me dying on the floor: "She meant well. Piper just had bad luck."

I was poisoned to death in that hospital room.

Then I opened my eyes, and it was the day before the qualifier.

In Chicago, the Belinni name is not spoken—it is feared.

Dan Belinni was raised inside violence, trained in the blood-soaked discipline of the Outfit until he became its sharpest weapon. At nineteen, he is already known for illegal fights, brutal enforcement, and a temperament that turns any challenge into punishment. He doesn’t believe in mercy. He doesn’t believe in love. He believes in control.

Milena Lima has spent her life surviving, not living. An undocumented immigrant in Chicago, she works herself to exhaustion just to stay afloat and protect the only stability she has left—her friend María. But when she loses her job and her visa expires, Milena becomes invisible to the law and vulnerable in ways she never imagined.

Desperate, she steps into a Belinni-owned nightclub, hoping to earn enough to survive another week. One stage. One performance. One decision.

That is all it takes for her to cross paths with Dan Belinni.

He is not a man who lets go.
And she is not a woman who submits.

But beneath survival and violence lies a truth neither of them is ready for—Milena is tied to a mafia legacy she never chose, one that makes her both a target and a claim in a world where women are never just women.

When their worlds collide, obsession replaces restraint, and a single night changes everything.

Because in Dan’s world, love is not given.

It is taken.

I was seventeen when I fell desperately in love with Orion Blake. He didn’t see the Holt heiress or the fortune. He saw me. Our love was forbidden, fierce, and all-consuming. In his arms, I believed forever was real. Until the night my father caught us and a gunshot that shattered my world. They broke me that night,my body and soul. But from the ashes of my pain, a vow was born: I would destroy the Holt family from the inside. Slowly. Painfully. Completely.
For years I played the perfect daughter. The cold, brilliant CEO. The obedient heiress. All while sabotaging everything my family held dear. Then my father forced me to marry Roman Kade, the ruthless CEO of KA Global, the man single-handedly dismantling my family’s empire. A man who looked at me with dark hunger and barely contained fury. A man whose touch sets my skin on fire even as he seems determined to break me. But Roman Kade has secrets of his own. Dangerous ones. The way he watches me… the familiar intensity in his eyes… it feels too personal. Too knowing. He thinks he’s the one in control. He thinks he can ruin me, but he has no idea I’ve been planning my revenge for years and he has no idea how deep my devotion runs… or how far I’m willing to go for Orion and for the child we lost. This forced marriage was supposed to be my prison but Instead, it’s becoming a battlefield where love, hate, and buried secrets collide. Because some loves refuse to die and some vows were never meant to be broken. When I had promised forever, i really meant forever. It was all for him. No one could have me, if i couldn't have Orion Blake.

“When you think that life cannot get better, Blake Pierce comes up with another masterpiece of thriller and mystery! This book is full of twists and the end brings a surprising revelation. I strongly recommend this book to the permanent library of any reader that enjoys a very well written thriller.”--Books and Movie Reviews, Roberto Mattos (re Almost Gone) ALMOST DEAD is book #3 in a new psychological thriller series by USA Today bestselling author Blake Pierce, whose #1 bestseller Once Gone (Book #1) (a free download) has received over 1,000 five star reviews. After the disastrous fallout from her last placement in England, all 23-year-old Cassandra Vale wants is a chance to pick up the pieces. A high-society, divorced mother in sunny Italy seems to be the answer. But is she? With a new family come new children, new rules, and new expectations. Cassandra’s determined to make this one last - until a horrifying discovery pushes her to a breaking point. And when the unimaginable occurs, will it be too late to pull herself back from the brink? Who, she wonders, is she becoming?A riveting mystery replete with complex characters, layers of secrets, dramatic twists and turns and heart-pounding suspense, ALMOST DEAD is book #3 in a psychological suspense series that will have you turning pages late into the night. Book #4 in the series will be available soon.

To save my wife’s family, I buried my name, wore myself down, and let a few strands of my hair turn gray while caring for her on the edge of death.

Three years later, she slipped into custom Chanel and slapped a divorce agreement down in front of me.

With her arm wrapped around a so-called old-money heir from Wall Street, she mocked me as a worthless nobody who couldn’t even afford a luxury handbag, a bottom-feeder who was never fit to stand beside her.

I signed my name without a word and watched her leave in triumph.

What she didn’t know was that the man preaching investments was nothing more than a Ponzi fraudster facing multiple charges.

And when the conference room door closed, Manhattan’s most feared ice-cold attorney bowed to me at a perfect ninety degrees and welcomed me to unlock the seventy-billion-dollar trust fund and take back control of the entire conglomerate.

A few months later, inside a women’s maximum-security prison in Brooklyn, she was dressed in a filthy, tattered prison uniform, sprawled across a floor slick with dirty water, sobbing as she was beaten and begging for my forgiveness.

I simply lifted my whiskey and calmly switched off the surveillance feed.

The moment I saw my name on that wedding invitation, I was already dead.

On Highway 23, a steel rebar had pierced straight through my chest. I was two months pregnant.

I called my fiancé Michael seventeen times. The first sixteen, he hung up without a word. On the seventeenth, his voice dripped with impatience: "Marrying Sophia is just for show. Stop making a scene."

The man who once knelt outside my family's estate for three days and nights, swearing to love me for a lifetime—he wouldn't spare me a single second more.

With my last breath, I dialed the funeral home. "I'm calling... for myself."

Flames consumed my body. My soul drifted toward the engagement banquet that should have been mine. When the killer's phone lit up, the name on the screen was Sophia...

When he destroyed my entire family, he never once thought of me.

So now, let me watch with my own eyes as this wedding becomes their funeral.

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.

The mafia boss chose me as his decoy—a body double for the woman he loves.

Eight years. Three bullets, one car crash, one explosion. The doctor said ten more minutes and I would've died on that operating table when they took my kidney. I gave him a son. He let me play "the boss's wife" in public.

Until he cleared every obstacle for her and decided to marry her.

Her wedding photos replaced mine in the master bedroom. He has her initials tattooed on his arm. When I questioned him, he had his men slap me at a charity gala, forced me to admit "I'm just a stand-in." When I touched her, he took away my custody, declared she was "the true lady of this house."

The punishments got worse. When he threatened to cancel my mother's insurance, I finally learned to shut up.

He pulls me close, whispers in my ear: "She gave up everything for me. Not like you—you were born to take bullets for me."

"Deal with it. She's not replacing you. This is her house now."

Even my son took her side.

"Stop being dramatic! Natalie actually loves us! You're nothing!"

But their pure, innocent Natalie? She unplugged my mother's ventilator while I was locked in the basement. Let his enemies slip poison into my drink during the last job.

When Grayson found me, all he said was: "She's pregnant and emotional. Go rearrange the flowers at the wedding venue."

I wipe the black blood from my lips. Look at him quietly.

"I'm dying."

My stepsister and I tumbled down the stairs together. As someone with a blood clotting disorder, my spleen ruptured—I was bleeding internally, desperate for surgery to stop it.
But my mother—the renowned chief of surgery—pulled every specialist from the ER. To consult on my stepsister's condition.
All she had was a sprained ankle. Not even a scratch. Yet mom insisted on running every test in the book. And me? Left alone on that cold floor, bleeding out, half my body already soaked in blood.
I clutched at her pants, begging her to save me. But she kicked my hand away and looked at me with pure disgust.
"Lily, are you really so desperate for a man's attention that you'd pull a cheap stunt like this? Your sister's foot is swollen—and you have the nerve to fake your death here?"
In the end, I died alone in a corner of that ignored ER.
But when they wheeled my cold body out of the morgue—and they finally learned about my clotting disorder—
That mother who claimed to hate me completely lost her mind.

When he found out I’d injured my leg and couldn't scrub in to deliver the billionaire's baby tomorrow, my boyfriend’s first reaction wasn't concern. He gritted his teeth and snapped, "Hannah, you did this on purpose, didn't you? Why today of all days? Are you really throwing away your entire career just to spite me?!"
I didn't argue. I just stared at the medical chart labeled Eleanor Whitlock, my fingers trembling.
In my past life, I took this assignment. I was drugged and locked in a supply closet. A few hours later, the mother and baby were dead—and the security footage showed a nurse with my face poisoning them. I died in a damp prison cell, branded a murderer.
Reborn into this life, I just wanted to escape this fatal trap.
But somehow, the security cameras had once again captured "me" walking into that delivery room.

When the apocalyptic red rain fell, my brother and I both awakened spatial abilities.

He awakened a space as vast as a mansion and was hailed by the entire family as their savior.

While I only awakened a "suitcase" and was ruthlessly drained of all my assets by my parents to support my brother, then kicked out of the house.

They mocked me cruelly: "We don't keep deadweights. Go wait for death in the 70-degree furnace outside!"

What they didn't know was that my brother's space had no preservation function—his stockpile of premium ingredients would soon rot into a pile of maggot-infested meat.

But my suitcase had upgrade attributes!

While they fought each other over a sip of putrid green water in the 200-degree hellscape,

I sat in the "Eden" I had created, watching herds of cattle and sheep, drinking ice-cold fresh milk.

Be my imperfection is a reverse harem in the year 2050 after a failed experiment lead to the destruction of the world where humans were prey to mutants/ vampires. World leaders were killed and humans were seperated into categories and ranks and sent to compounds to get killed or used.
The world is dominated by five unique vampires who fall in love with a human girl who is not pretty since she was scarred for life by her own sister and her billionaire family reproaches her.
The story will go from sad and painful to hurt and challenging. Secrets will be uncover and each character will have a role to play and the plan that they had will be ruined due to that.

I spent eighteen years as the West family’s “fake heiress.”

When their real daughter came back, they shoved me into a storage room, made me take the blame for her scandals, and even cursed me at Grandpa’s funeral for being ungrateful.

Then sixteen Maybachs arrived to take me home.

Only then did they learn the truth—I was the long-lost daughter of the wealthiest family in the world.

Now the Wests want forgiveness. Too bad. I want them ruined.

But the man who pinned me against a bathroom sink after I defused a bomb only smiled and whispered, “Would you rather your brother walk in and find you here with a strange man?”

Worse, his face was hidden in my grandfather’s secret keepsake.

So who is he really… and what did Grandpa die trying to hide?

“See? Mom warned you a long time ago—Rehn is a venomous snake to the bone.”
When a monster tore my right arm apart, and I watched my so-called best brother scoop up all the rations and run without looking back, my mother’s voice suddenly sounded inside my head.
But she’d died five years ago.
Mom told me my “good brother” hadn’t gone far at all.
He was hiding nearby, waiting for the monster to leave so he could come back and play the hero.
He would stash the ammunition, swap out my antibiotics, and in the end use me as the perfect meat shield—kicking me straight into a dead end.
To stay alive, I swallowed my blood-soaked humiliation and played along with him for a full one hundred and twenty minutes of brotherly devotion.
Until he finally tore off the mask and shoved me toward the most horrifying mutant.
I sneered and tossed away my self-defense knife.
Brother, you want to be a god of the wasteland?
Sorry. I’m going to be that god.

On college application day, my two childhood sweethearts, Blaise and Kieran, were completely bewitched by Mari. The manipulative girl talked them into abandoning their prestigious university spots to attend a small community college with her. I tried desperately to stop them, even contacting their parents to prevent them from ruining their futures.
Yet when Mari ended up dead months later, the blind boys blamed everything on me. They tricked me to the cliff and shoved me down brutally, making me pay for a crime I never committed.
Miraculously, I am reborn on this exact day. This time, I will not interfere. I will watch silently and let them bear the consequences of their own foolish choices.

I made 17 calls for help. My sister answered every one—and hung up.

For 48 hours, I lay dying in Pine Ridge Forest, texting desperate pleas to my family. They thought I ran away. The truth? My sister deleted every message while I begged for my life.

Three months dead. Zero funeral. My family didn't even notice I was gone.

Now the police have recovered my phone. Every deleted text. Every ignored call. Every lie my sister told to cover up what she did.

"Please. I can't feel my legs. I'm sorry I exist. Just don't let me die here."

They wanted me invisible. I gave them what they wanted.

Now they'll spend the rest of their lives wishing they'd answered when I called.

Two years ago, my best friend Maddie knelt in front of me, crying as she borrowed $50,000.
The very next day, she vanished off the face of the earth. No explanation, no apology, not even a single text message.
I was left carrying her toxic debt. I lost my fiancé, and I lost my ability to trust anyone.
Until one late night, a call came in from an unknown number originating in an abandoned mining district in West Virginia.
On the other end of the line, Maddie said she was getting married. She had the money ready—every last cent.
The wedding venue was a ruined church deep in the mountains, abandoned for a decade. The time: Friday, midnight.

"Stay in the apartment," he said, straightening his tie as I fixed his collar. "I'll be back tonight." Then he walked out the door — straight to his wedding. What he didn't know was that my flight was already booked.
For three years I was his canary: locked in a penthouse, the only woman he let close when he bled, forgotten the moment another woman entered the room. I watched him let her wipe the blood from his face. I lost our child alone on a cold floor. I apologized to the woman who destroyed my mother's watch.
I was done waiting.
When the bells of Saint Patrick's rang out across Manhattan, he was welcoming his bride — and I finally flew out of my cage.

“You can't fall in love with your boss.”

My best friend warned me before my first day at the firm.

I laughed.

“Don't worry. I'm already married.”

What I didn't tell her was that my husband was the man walking into the conference room that morning.

Elias Jefferson was the firm's newest partner—a brilliant, wealthy, intimidating attorney who could silence an entire room with a single glance.

And somehow, he was also the stranger I had married only days before.

Nobody at the firm knew.

Nobody could know.

I needed this job. I had spent years struggling to prove that I belonged in the legal world, and I refused to let anyone think I had gotten ahead because I was sleeping with the boss.

So at work, Elias and I became strangers.

He challenged my arguments in meetings. I fought back.

He praised my legal instincts in front of the entire team. I pretended his approval meant nothing.

And whenever our eyes met across the courtroom, I had to remind myself that he wasn't my husband here.

He was my boss.

But when the office lights went out and we went home together, keeping our distance became much harder.

Then one night, Elias told me, “Our marriage was supposed to be temporary. So why can't I imagine letting you go?”

During the SATs, someone in the exam room went completely mad, screaming about a freezing apocalypse and ghouls eating everyone in the world. Everyone laughed at him, but I was the only one frozen in shock.
Because the pendant on my chest, which could warn me of danger, was emitting an unprecedented, blazing alarm...

While I bled to death locked in a storage room, my fiancé Adrian was holding my sister's hand, comforting her.

He hung up on my final call for help, leaving only a voicemail: "If anything happens to Lena, the engagement is off."

My sister once said her birthday wish had always been for me to disappear.

That night, her wish came true early.

But my soul never left.

I watched everyone gather around her, singing happy birthday.

As she blew out the candles, I whispered in her ear:

"Enjoy it while it lasts. This will be your last birthday."

For five years, I had turned Preston Tanner from a broke kid who could barely afford tuition into one of Silicon Valley's hottest young founders.
I thought we would do exactly what we had promised back in that garage—take our AI healthcare startup public, ring the opening bell together, and get married.
Until today.
At the product launch that would determine whether we landed our Series A, Preston stood before the press and credited the core algorithm patent I had spent seventy-two sleepless hours developing to a girl who couldn't even write Python.
"Sloane, you're already my fiancée," he said. "Willow needs this patent to strengthen her green-card application."
Staring at his utterly self-righteous face, I felt sick.
I didn't know when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, he had rotted from the inside out.
And if he was rotten, it was time to throw him away.

My husband had been traveling a lot lately. Intuition told me he was cheating.
I kept quiet. For his birthday, I gifted him AirPods—secretly linked to my backup Apple ID.
At 10:00 p.m., his "Find My" location wasn't heading to the airport. It had stopped at a decade-abandoned lumber yard.
I floored it, obsessed with catching them in bed.
But when I arrived, I only found a corpse.

I’m Jasmine Harris. The day I was diagnosed with a brain tumor, I also found out I was pregnant. But my secret husband, Sean Gray, was too busy bringing his first love home to notice me falling apart. That night, he pinned me down and sneered, “If I don’t touch you, how am I supposed to give you a child?”

So I stopped begging for love. I lost the baby, left his company, and returned to the AI world I had once abandoned. On stage, I became brilliant again—while Sean finally began to see the woman he had buried for three years.

But his beloved Kayla appeared with a robot shockingly close to my own design. Was it genius, coincidence… or theft? And if my time is running out, who will survive the final summit—her lie, Sean’s regret, or me?

His fingers traced down my side, slow and teasing, until he reached my thigh, he gripped it hard and lifted it higher around his waist, the change in angle had me gasping as I felt the hard nudge of his very hard and well sized shaft.
"You're sensitive, " he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction.
I wanted to give a reply, show him I was still in control but damn it, he moved and he pushed that little monster inside me with deliberate, frustrating slowness and it was like the room tilted.
"Oh my……"

The day Emilia lost everything, she met a mysterious man who she ended up having a passionate night with, but it only left her longing for more.
Little did she know, her forced wedding was about to bring them together again.
But this time, as brother-in-law and sister-in-law. Torn between duty and desire, Emilia must decide: resist the attraction or give in to her heart's desire.

My biological parents and younger brother conspired with an adopted outsider to fabricate an elaborate lie about a "super tsunami about to strike." They staged an act together, tricked me onto a cruise ship, and locked me deep in the hold. The moment the hatch closed, I heard their voices through a hidden camera, toasting with glasses:
"Finally got that jinx locked away. From now on, the family fortune is all ours!"
But they didn't know that at that very second, a piercing system alert blared in my mind:
[Super Tsunami Generating. Countdown: 5 days.]
The apocalypse was real after all.
I seized the moment to bind with the Deep-Sea Fortress System, drained the family's entire assets, and went on a manic hoarding spree.
Five days later, hundred-meter-tall waves ripped the coastline apart.
Watching on the monitor as my parents and brother knelt outside the alloy door, tearing at each other, banging their heads bloody as they begged me to open up,
I cut into a perfectly seared, juicy steak and asked softly into the mic:
"Didn't you say the tsunami was a lie? So why are you crying now?"

This story is about 23-year-old Lily Hills, waking up to the dead body of her one-night stand in a motel. The same man, Damien Kalashnikov, was to tie the knot the next morning, and Lily was slated to handle the magazine publishing the glamorous wedding events.

Lily who just wanted an adventurous night for once in her life, was now accused of murdering a ruthless Russian Mafia boss.

Just as all hope seems lost, Dimitri, Damien's identical twin brother and infamous "Beekeeper," saves her, he proposes a shocking solution: a contract marriage, with conditions for both parties to meet. The wedding, initially intended for Damien and his bride, will proceed as planned – with Lily as the new bride.

As Lily and Dimitri navigate their complicated relationship, he commissions her to write his biography. With each passing day, secrets unfold, and shocking truths surface. Their bond deepens, but danger lurks. With a surprise pregnancy raising stakes, it seemed Damien left a souvenir. A Russian Roulette began.

Albeit, a typical Russian will say to you: Когда река молчит, шепчет ли она секреты рыбам? (When the river's voice is silent, does it whisper secrets to the fish?)

Even in silence, hidden truths may be shared, and secrets can be revealed in unexpected ways.

Will Lily, wife to the Omertà Mafia Don ‘The Beekeeper’ eventually find out what happened that night?

I loved Callum Crane for five years. He said I didn't fit. Then he proposed — to my sister.
The same night, his brother called me with the most insane idea I've ever heard: marry him instead. Same day. Same venue. Right across the hall from my ex and my sister's ceremony.
I said yes. Not because I loved Emrys Crane. Because I'd rather set the whole thing on fire than sit in a pew and watch.
Here's the thing about revenge marriages, though. They're supposed to be fake.
Nobody told Emrys.
The man had a wrench set in his truck that only fit my grandmother's machine — bought years before I ever spoke to him. He'd been sneaking looks through my workshop window so often the stone wore down. He fixed my motorcycle three times and never mentioned it. He remembered that I stared at a piece of almond brittle for ten seconds once, and bought it for me weeks later.
Seven years. He'd been in love with me for seven years. Said nothing. Did everything.
And Callum? The man who told me I didn't fit?
He showed up at my orchard with an apology and a folder full of evidence against my sister, begging for a second chance.
I looked him in the eye and said: "Too late. Wrong harvest."
He tried five more times. It only got worse for him.

I was hospitalized with a high fever, and my boyfriend stayed by my side 24/7.
The nurses all praised him as the "perfect boyfriend," and 5 million live stream viewers were green with envy.
He looked into the camera and poured his heart out: "She's my entire world. I could never leave her, not in this lifetime."
Tears streamed down my face as I felt like the luckiest woman alive.
Until 2 AM, when his phone buzzed with a message:
"Miss you 💋"
He thought I was fast asleep.
I wished I was just dreaming.

I stayed in this city for Dorian, pushed my way into his company, and saved every penny for three years just so we could build a home together.
But an anonymous flash drive shoved a video of him cheating in our bed right into my face. The next day, a promotion announcement handed the position I’d bled for to the very woman who seduced him.
With my dignity crushed to dust, I had only one person left to rely on—my gentle, almost obsessively devoted stepbrother, Ambrose.
He promised to make those scumbags tear each other apart. He promised Dorian would crawl back to my feet like a dog.
He offered me a "secret recipe" with immediate results.
I expected a deeply satisfying revenge. I never imagined what that so-called recipe actually was...

"You have two months to live." The doctor's death sentence was still ringing in my ears when I found the receipt in his pocket.

[Four Seasons Hotel. Romance Suite. Check-in: 3:00 PM.]

3:00 PM. The exact moment I was begging the doctor for painkillers, Alexander was in a hotel bed with another woman.

I looked at him, sleeping soundly beside me. I had loved this man for five years, sold everything to help him succeed. Now, in the final countdown of my life, he gave me the most fatal blow.

"I'm exhausted from meetings," he had lied, smelling of Santal 33 and another woman's sex.

I clenched the receipt until my nails dug into my flesh. I wouldn't tell him about the cancer.

I would use whatever time I had left to make him regret ever being born.

On our wedding day, Declan sent me out to Long Island. We'd been together seven years.

He said he'd left his grandmother's lucky cufflinks at the family house.

But when my car died in the storm, I opened my bridesmaid's Instagram live.

Declan was sliding my custom diamond ring onto Phoebe's finger—my adopted sister, the one with the bad heart.

My own parents were crying in the front row. My bridesmaids were cheering.

They'd turned my wedding into a dying wish ceremony for Phoebe.

Hours later, alone in the ER, I called forty-seven times.

No one picked up.

Not until after I lost the baby and disappeared from Manhattan.

That's when Declan finally came apart.

The day before spring break, Cole Bennett asks me, red in the face, if he can borrow my empty place up in the hills for one night.

I figure he's planning a birthday party for me, so I don't think twice about handing over the code to the estate.

I've already decided that night is when I'll tell him who I really am.

Eight o'clock on my birthday, I push open the brass doors of the estate, worth millions by themselves.

Music blasts through the great room. The place is packed with people from school, all of them craning their necks, gushing about how gorgeous the house is.

I hold back a grin, ready to go find him and see what he's got planned.

Then I see her in the middle of the crowd, everyone crowding around her, glasses raised.

Sloane Bishop.

"Daddy... so cold... and it hurts..." When my precious daughter Mia whispered these words in her weak voice, my heart felt like it was being torn apart.
The life-saving medicine was just ten meters away, but that damned anti-magic barrier had become an insurmountable chasm between life and death.
What made me even more furious was that the vampire guarding the gate not only extorted my life savings, but also demanded I kneel like a dog and lick his boots before he would open the door.
He didn't know that if the door stayed closed, it wouldn't just be my daughter who died—his son and mother would perish too!

“I’m not gonna help you hunt down my only friend!” She huffed, crossing her arms.
“It’s not a request Fidelia.” He warned, making sure to keep eye contact. “It’s an order, from your Alpha!”
“Screw you!” She shrieked. “Don’t you dare try and use your stupid Alpha power to extort information from me!”
“You know she wasn’t human, didn’t you?” He accused.
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Nessa has spent her whole life running and hiding from unknown forces within the supernatural community. She finally believed she had found a home within the Orion Valley Pack. The pack is happy to accept her within their community, believing her to be a mere human acquaintance of the Alpha's and for once. Until the Alpha's son returns to take over from his father. He is a mighty Alpha and she is dirty, weak human - how dare she try to tempt the new Alpha. Furious, he has her thrown into the cells and refuses to believe she is his destined mate. Heartbroken and terrified of her fate if she stays near such a terrifying and psychotic wolf, Nessa does what she knows best - she runs and vows to never step foot near the Orion Valley Territory ever again. Little does she know the pull of the Mate Bond and how strongly her Alpha feels the need to have her; he will hunt her down and bring her back - She is the other half of his soul and he can't be apart from her!

After rebirth, I opened my bedroom door and found my boyfriend tangled with my fake sister. She whispered, “Joseph… who drives you crazier, me or my sister?”
In my last life, I gave my kidney to my mother, went to prison for my brother, painted masterpieces for Ella, and died for the Garcia family.
This time, I posted the video, ruined her art show, cut ties with them all, and reclaimed my name—Lora.
Then Grant Brown, the man who had secretly watched over my art for years, looked at me and murmured, “When will you cook for me?”
I thought revenge was enough—until I discovered the truth behind my childhood kidnapping was far darker than I ever imagined…

Valorn had been planning the war for years.
Their greatest general already knew that Eldara's army could not be defeated on a battlefield — not as long as one man was standing at the front of it. So instead of attacking the wall, they went looking for the crack.
They found it.
His name was Dane.
Recruited when the war begins, Dane becomes, through brutal training and shared missions, the soldier Captain Rhett trusts above all others. His right hand. The one Rhett risks everything to protect when a spy mission behind enemy lines nearly costs them both their lives.
But Dane has been carrying wounds.
Three of them. Each one small. Each one unintentional. Each one left to fester in silence — until Valorn knocked on the door that offense had already unlocked.
He told himself it was justice.
He did not tell himself the truth.
What follows is the story of a nation built from nothing by one ordinary man's extraordinary vision and how that nation was not destroyed by its enemies, but from the inside, by one soldier's unhealed heart.
The enemy that destroyed Eldara never wore Valorn's uniform.
It wore Eldara's own colors. It had Eldara's own name.
It was called offense.

I was raised by the Lynn family for eighteen years—until their real daughter returned and they threw my luggage out, telling me I belonged in the slums.

But the family who came for me wasn’t poor. They arrived with a luxury supercar, bodyguards, and a grand estate waiting for their true heiress.

When my brakes failed on the racetrack, Benjamin crashed into me to save my life. Later, in the dark, he covered my mouth and whispered, “Don’t make a sound.”

Then he held my hand and said, “You’re my fiancée. If I’m not good to you, who else would I be good to?”

But as a deadly hospital, counterfeit drugs, and the truth behind the baby switch begin to surface, I realize one terrifying thing—

I may not be the only child whose life was stolen.

I killed my fated mate to survive.

Beta Shax Wulfric was the pack’s most ruthless hunter, sent to drag me back in chains. So I ended him. Or I thought I did.

Months later, he finds me again. Alive. Amnesiac. And utterly convinced I’m his wife… and the child in my arms is ours.

Now the monster who once rejected and humiliated me looks at me like I’m his entire world. He touches me like I’m something precious.

If he remembers, he’ll kill me.
If he doesn’t, I might fall for him all over again.

In my last life, a friend I’d trusted for ten years drove a knife into my heart over a single biscuit. When I opened my eyes again, we had both been reborn—right before the extreme freeze arrived.

He was convinced the apocalypse had come. He borrowed from loan sharks, rented a massive warehouse to hoard supplies, and even crowned himself king during the icebound period, killing without mercy.

But he didn’t know the truth:

This disaster would end completely after only thirty days.

While he taunted me like a madman, I didn’t expose him. I calmly requested thirty days of paid leave from my company.

This time, I’ll sit in a warm, climate-controlled room and watch—when the state machine restarts on day thirty—how he drops to his knees and sobs in despair.

Kaitlyn Randall wakes up late and the first thing she does is leave her place, almost throwing her cold coffee on a cop car nearby with a handsome officer inside.

To say the least, her day isn't going very well except for the eye candy. Especially when she shows up to work extremely late and has to clear out her desk.

When she finds out later that her estranged father left her millions of dollars, she decides to go to Europe and take a well-earned vacation after quickly buying a house.

Once she is there, she realizes that it was all an elaborate scheme

and now she is stuck in Europe by herself, without a single dollar to her name.

Will a tall, dark and handsome stranger come to her rescue?

Or more importantly, what will he want in exchange?

See what this rich stranger has in store for her in A Day To Remember.

The car crash six months ago destroyed my body. I survive the agony only through the painkillers prescribed by my brother, Fletcher.
While shopping for my wedding dress, I simply swallowed a pill on schedule. My mother responded with a slap that made me spit blood. My father stormed in and kicked my ribs in without asking a single question.
I fled crying to my brother, only for him to grab me in disgust: "You are a disgrace to this family."
I called my fiancé. He rushed to the scene, took one look at the pill, and called the cops without hesitation: "The engagement is off. She makes me sick."
In just a few hours, I went from a bride-to-be to a death row inmate.
But as the gavel fell, I saw our family maid calmly swallow the exact same pill from the gallery…
I lunged at the railing, screaming at the judge. He leaned down, a chilling smile spreading across his face: "Linnea, this is all because…"

For six years, I sold my body to underground clinics as a human lab rat to cure my son's heart failure and pay off my husband's debts.

Today, my biological brother kicked away the medicine I bought with half my life.

"Lucas was never sick. We faked the medical records to teach you a lesson for upsetting Virginia."

My husband coldly chimed in:

"I never went bankrupt either."

Even the son I bled to birth stabbed my arm, screaming, "A bloody monster like you doesn't deserve to be my mom!"

I finally realized my entire life was a meticulously crafted scam.

With my organs rapidly failing and only ten days left to live, I stepped onto the edge of the balcony.

"You're right," I smiled at my husband and brother, watching the color completely drain from their faces. "Six years of my life isn't enough to apologize to her."

"So I'll pay you with my corpse."

The second the avalanche came down, I called my mate. Karl. Captain of the Pack Guard's First Squad.

He dug me out, carried me onto the helicopter, and told the pilot to take off before the second rescue team even got there.

He didn't know Delilah was buried in the same slide. The girl he'd never gotten over.

By the time they reached her, she'd been under the snow for three hours in twenty below.

Karl stood in the morgue all night.

He came back the next day and just gave me a small smile. "It wasn't your fault. You were carrying our pup. Of course you came first."

For a month after that, he was gentler than he'd ever been. He cleared his schedule to take me to every checkup. Cooked for me himself. Put the crib together, the dresser too. Every single thing in the nursery lined up exactly right.

I thought that avalanche had finally buried Delilah. That it had given him back to me.

Until the day I went into labor.

He sent every doctor and nurse out of the delivery room. There was a silver scalpel in his hand.

The moment he cut me open, I saw the red in his eyes.

Our pup was still crying, small and weak, and he never even looked. He threw us both into the incinerator.

"If it weren't for you, Delilah would still be alive. Your life for hers."

Then I opened my eyes, and I was back at the moment the avalanche hit.

At thirty-five, I finally die— only to wake up as Isabella Montague, the stunning heroine of a fantasy novel I wrote as a stupid teen.

My plan? A world-class retirement involving heavy naps and bottomless snacks.

But the 'perfect' men I created are ruining the plan.

The brooding Northern Duke won't stop watching me. The Golden Prince is convinced my disinterest is actually a challenge. My knight—and best friend—is ready to burn the world down if I so much as yawn. And a certain Elven noble who swore off humans keeps finding excuses to be near my tea.

They want my heart. I just want my pillow.

Too bad the world is cursed, the Queen wants me dead, and everyone keeps trying to put me on a throne I never asked for.

Can't a girl just chill?

Are you single? Or married?

I’m single ma’am

Why would a beautiful girl like you be single?

Well, I’d say it’s because I have to work hard to fend for myself so I could meet up with my bills. So I really wouldn’t have time for relationships.

Well, I want to offer you a contract.

What contract ma’am?

I want you to get married to my son and produce heirs for my family, he’s the only child I have and I wouldn’t want our name to be dragged to the mud because of his refusal to get married.

I’m a dying woman, I’m battling with cancer and I have just one year left for me and I wouldn’t want him to be unmarried while I leave this earth.

I’m ready to pay you five hundred thousand dollars monthly (500,000 USD) for staying with my son and a million dollars when you produce an heir.

What?

I thought the scariest thing in school was the jock who harassed me. But then he vanished without a trace, and everyone blamed me.

There is no strong evidence to lock me away, so I walk the school hallways trapped in a living hell. The police watch my every move, the town hates me, and my adoptive parents treat me like an unwanted curse in their home.

Desperate to clear my name, I didn't realize the real danger was living right next door.

Xavi Moreau is the quiet, haunting boy who looks right through me. He doesn't live with his family; he lives alone in his own place. To the world, he is a handsome party guy who drinks, smiles, and blends into the crowd.

But I noticed the truth. His smiles are fake. His laughter never reaches his cold eyes. He is just copying the emotions of others to hide a dark, hollow soul.

When he notices my stares, his obsession shifts entirely to me.

Every single time he approaches me, I push him away. I deny him. I fight his terrifying presence with every ounce of strength I have left. But Xavi doesn't back down. He offers me the one thing I desperately need: a promise to find the truth and clear my name.

I wanted to find a killer to save myself, but the killer has already found me, and he has no intention of letting me go.

After the apocalypse, I built Dawnlight Base.

On an outside run, I died in an ambush—blast, fire, bullets. I watched my blood sink into the sand and thought it was over.

Then I opened my eyes five years later, living in a stranger’s body.

On a transport truck, I was locked in an iron cage with guns trained on us. The others told me who I was now: a bottom-tier gate guard, “cargo” being sold by Dawnlight to a mining camp.

They said after my death, my girlfriend took the command room, promoted her own people, broke up my old crew and stripped their weapons. Mismanagement followed. Mining rights were pawned off. Then they started selling the living.

I escaped and slipped back under the wall.

The quarantine corridor at the North Gate had collapsed and no one repaired it. A long line waited at the ration point, bowls filled with water-thin gruel.

And my girlfriend was signing papers—inviting an outside warlord into the city to “share governance.”

A week later, his convoy rolled through the gate. From the command building’s second-floor window, I flipped the signal switch.

The gate dropped behind them.

When gunfire erupted from every direction, they finally understood—

I was back.