7008 Book(s) Related to Exiled From The Heavens, ARYJIA

On Day 100 of the global heat collapse, surface temperature climbed to a hopeless 70°C.

To keep my girlfriend from being roasted alive, I drove my ice ability past the limit and became her personal human air conditioner.

But when my ability core was on the verge of shattering and I collapsed coughing blood, she stole the last two bottles of water from my pack and climbed into someone else’s temperature-controlled car without looking back.

Before she left, she tossed the life-saving lump of ice I’d condensed with half my life onto the blistering asphalt like garbage.

“Jack, I’m sick of your cooling cutting out any second. I’m not staying here to die with you.”

She didn’t know—

The moment that ice turned into white vapor, the broken ability core in my chest—the one ruined because of her—evolved in the abyss.

I begged my mom for ten dollars, but she smashed my head with a frying pan instead.

The next day, my mother posted on a forum asking:
"Hi everyone. My eldest son lied about the end of the world just to get ten dollars. I want to ask, how can I sell him on the underground black market to pay off his younger brother's $20,000 debt?"

The moment I saw that post, any remaining love I had for them died instantly. I snapped my phone's SIM card in half.

What she didn’t know was that a world-ending acid flood would descend upon New York tomorrow.

I had begged so bitterly for that ten dollars just to trigger the Ten-Million-Fold Return System to build a three-billion-dollar Doomsday Ark.

Since she didn’t want it, I gave the throne of the Ark Queen to the female classmate who casually tossed me some charity.

I took the blame for my wife and went to jail, thinking I was protecting our family.

Five years later, when I was released from prison, my mansion was confiscated, my company fell into the hands of my younger brother, and the woman I loved with all my heart was nestled in my brother's arms, mocking my misfortune.

They had been having an affair for a long time, and even my imprisonment was a conspiracy meticulously planned by this despicable couple! What makes me even more furious is that my precious daughter was abandoned on the street like a stray dog, and subjected to beatings and bullying by their illegitimate son .

They thought that by draining my blood, they could forever condemn me to oblivion.

But they forgot that I was once an unparalleled genius in the business world.

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé.
Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now—billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn’t mind. I’d crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one?
Wrong.
One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That’s when it hit me—he didn’t love me. He didn’t even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn’t even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup.
So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster—my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise.
Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol.
Enter him.
Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I’d met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes.
It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised.
But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life.
And, as it turned out, the best decision I’d ever made.
Because my one-night stand isn’t just some random guy. He’s richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with.
And now, he’s not letting me go.

"Oh, it's you. My useless wife."
"You should've seen it coming. Our marriage stopped working a long time ago."
"You're useless as a wife, Ivy. You've never supported my career. And after all this time—you're still not even pregnant."
Kim Evelyn—known to those closest to her as Ivy—never imagined her third wedding anniversary would turn into a nightmare. Her husband, Rico, didn't just betray her—he brought his mistress into their bed. The pain and humiliation scorched her heart, leaving her no choice but to walk away from the home that once symbolized their love.
But Ivy's escape led her into a night that would change everything. Beneath the glimmering lights of an upscale bar, she met Joshua Miller—a dangerously charming man with a captivating smile and an offer too tempting to resist.
"Help me get revenge on the man who betrayed me—my husband. Can you do that?"
"I'll help you get your revenge—but in return, you'll have to treat me the same way you did last night."
Revenge. Sweet, calculated revenge.
But there was a catch: Ivy had to surrender herself to a game far more seductive than anything she'd ever imagined. As vengeance ignited and passion flared, the line between game and reality began to blur. Dark secrets loomed. Hidden dangers stirred. And Ivy was forced to make an impossible choice—move forward and risk losing everything, or retreat into the scars of her past.
Can Ivy take control of this wicked game? Or will she end up the pawn—consumed by desire, ambition, and a betrayal more dangerous than the one she fled?

A fire broke out at the fraternity party. I desperately pushed Mia, my brother's girlfriend, out of harm's way, only to get pinned down by a falling beam myself. My brother Liam chose to save Mia first, kicking away my oxygen mask as he left. Mia then locked the door, leaving me to burn alive.

Yet they thought I was throwing a tantrum and playing hide-and-seek. They called me "toxic" and "attention-seeking" on social media, even freezing my credit cards.

My daughter has passed away, and my ex-husband abandoned us.

In my darkest hour, my first love, Lysander, reappeared; he covered the medical expenses, married me, and provided me with a home.

For five years, I believed I was the luckiest woman in the world.

Until that fateful day, four months into my pregnancy, when I overheard his conversation with a friend—

“To save Celeste, I thought... who knew it would lead to the death of Seraphina’s daughter?”

“As for Seraphina, she is a good wife, but alas... I do not love her.”

It turned out that my daughter’s death was no accident.

It was revealed that these five years of marriage were merely his quest for atonement.

The one he had always truly loved was Celeste—my ex-husband’s current wife.

As I lay on the operating table, I made a decision—

Since he had taken my daughter’s kidney, I would seize everything from him.

Including what he believed he would never lose: me.

My wife is the city's renowned "Community Angel." She donates every single cent of her high salary to the poor, all to buy herself a saintly reputation.
Meanwhile, as her husband, I spend my days rolling beneath cars in a factory, covered in grease, juggling four credit cards just to keep our large family afloat.
My parents-in-law survive on the expensive, imported life-saving meds I pay for, yet they constantly mock me for being a powerless nobody;
My own children attend private schools on my dime, only to look at me with disgust and call me an embarrassment;
And my wife? Dressed in her high-end couture, she looks down at me and condescendingly urges, "For the sake of the poor children, why don't you get another part-time job and just endure it a little longer?"
Looking at this den of parasites sucking the life out of me, a sudden, overwhelming wave of disgust washed over me.
I didn't argue. I silently put away my overdue bills, packed my bags, and completely vanished from this twisted household.
Later, at the highly anticipated Annual Charity Gala, in front of the entire city, I presented her with an ultimate "gift"—

"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!

My adopted sister, Cordelia, conspired with her biological mother to harvest my organs alive, yet she had the audacity to claim I paid thugs to rape her.
My biological parents didn't bother to ask for the truth. They cursed me, calling me a vicious bastard, and threatened to break my legs.
My fiancé, Caspian, coldly announced the cancellation of our engagement, declaring he would marry the very murderer who killed me.
I had been dead for exactly three days. No one cared. My body was rotting back in a moldy storage room.
Through it all, my soul was trapped in the manor, forced to witness this absurd farce.
But what they didn't expect was that when they finally learned of my death—
Everyone went completely insane.

I spent seven years being Preston Maddox's personal errand girl.

Did his homework, took his father's belt for him, cut off every friend I had because he said he didn't like me talking to other guys.

I told myself that if I was good enough, patient enough, he'd eventually see me.

Then came the school's centennial gala. In front of everyone, he locked me, a girl with severe aquaphobia, inside a water tank filled to the brim with ice-cold water, so Vanessa Sinclair could have a pretty backdrop for her ballet number.

The audience roared. He watched Vanessa take her bow with this soft, adoring smile on his face. The only time he glanced at me was when he noticed I'd made a mess, and all he did was wrinkle his nose.

The water rose over my head, and something in me finally understood.

To Preston Maddox, I wasn't even worth as much as a dog.

If a dog was drowning, its owner would at least care.

Me? I just disgusted him.

I was their real daughter.

The lost princess they found, brought home, and promised to protect.

But every time she cried, I was the one punished.

Every time she bled, I was the one accused.

When she disappeared, they said it was my fault. They tore my memories apart to prove it.

Fine , only if they stand where I stood, feel what I felt, will they ever know my pain.

My younger sister, Freya, was preparing for her advanced training in New York the following week, so she dragged me to the dance studio to help her correct her movements. I put on my dance shoes as usual and stood in the center of the floor, ready to demonstrate a turn.

The moment my foot slipped, I didn't even have time to react.

My body hit the ground hard, and the sharp pain from the back of my head nearly made me lose consciousness. I lay on the cold floor, my throat tight, unable to even cry out for help.

When Mother rushed in, she didn't spare me a glance.

She immediately helped Freya up and took her to the hospital. I missed the critical window for treatment and died on the way to the hospital.

She gave everything to a man who never wanted her—now, she’s taking back her life.

For three years, she lived in the shadow of a loveless marriage. She was the woman everyone loved to hate, the one who supposedly "stole" him from his first love. She endured his cold indifference, raised their son—who struggles with a speech impediment—in silence, and traded her own brilliant career for the thankless role of a trophy wife.

But when his long-lost love returns, she is unceremoniously pushed aside to make room for the "real" family.

Enough was enough.

After he publicly humiliates her and chooses the mistress’s daughter over his own son during a birthday party, something inside her finally snaps. She doesn't just want out of the marriage; she wants her life back. With a secret talent for design and a newfound resolve, she walks away from the gilded cage of his estate.

But as she rises from the ashes of her failed marriage to reclaim her status as a top-tier designer, he realizes the woman he treated as a disposable pawn was the only one who truly held his world together.

Now, the woman who once begged for his attention is no longer looking back. Will he be able to earn her forgiveness, or is he finally too late?

By day, Nora Ellis is the efficient, sharp-tongued secretary to the elusive billionaire, David Reid. By night, she becomes Mistress Scarlet – the masked dominatrix who commands The Red Room.

Her two lives never touch.
Until the night her boss walks into her world as a new client.

David's no stranger to control: by day, he's the ruthless CEO with a hidden mafia empire; by night, he's her most demanding client, unaware the masked submissive he craves is the woman who knows his every secret. What starts as forbidden pleasure turns into a dangerous obsession, one that blurs the lines between power, pain, and love.

As enemies close in and Nora’s past resurfaces, she must decide which part of herself to save… the woman he commands, or the woman who could destroy him.

Trigger Warning: This story contains explicit BDSM scenes (including dominance/submission dynamics, impact play, restraint, and sensory deprivation), graphic depictions of gun violence and murder, kidnapping attempts, mafia-related threats and organized crime elements, alcohol use, and themes of secrecy, betrayal, and emotional manipulation. Reader discretion is advised – safe, sane, and consensual practices are emphasized, but content may be intense for some.

Five years of marriage, and she was nothing but another woman's understudy.
Anniversaries. School events. Galas. In every public moment, it was always the other woman standing beside her husband and children—the perfect wife for all to see.
She only belonged to this family in the shadows, where no one was watching.
This marriage was beyond saving.
When fate extended its hand once more, she seized it and dragged herself out of the mud.
Only then did the man she left behind finally see what he had lost.
But an eagle soaring across the open sky—would she ever bow her head again?

Rated🔞 🔞 🔞

“Fuck me,” I mutter, “or kill me. We both know you have to choose.”
He snarls as he wraps his hands around my waist.
“Have you ever been fucked, Lucia Reid?”
It's the first time he's said my real name, and it sends heat sparking between my thighs.
“Of course I’ve had sex.”
He leans in until his mouth is against my cheek and whispers, “That’s not what I asked.”
My toes curl in my expensive heels, my hips rolling against him, and his mouth slants over mine roughly, his hands pushing the material of my dress until it pools at the tops of my thighs.
He pushes into me then until I feel his cock pressing hard against my clothed sex.

“I’ll fuck you so hard, princess,” his mouth is at my ear, “Hard enough for you to forget about all about the Reids and Ardens and everything else that doesn’t matter. I’ll make you forget about every cocky rich boy who ever smiled at you, the ones who couldn’t handle you, and I’ll make you come so hard that by the time I'm done... you’ll have to name me king.”

The day I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, my husband was still thrusting into me, emptying himself with a roar.
The moment he finished, I opened my mouth to tell him I had three months to live.
He cut me off.
'Lindsey's back. Let's get a divorce.'
My heart died in that instant.

After years of marriage, my husband and son never once treated me like I mattered.
In their eyes, there was only another woman.
When I heard them talking about abandoning me again, I finally hit my limit.
So I asked for a divorce.
From that day on, I lived for myself—and myself alone.

When she called her husband to tell him their son was dead, all she heard on the other end was laughter—him, his mistress, and their child, living like a happy little family.
Her heart turned to ash.
Terminally ill or not, she would find whoever killed her son.
But her husband didn't believe her. Her own family turned against her. They were all protecting the killer.
She was locked away. Threatened. Kidnapped.
When the truth finally clawed its way to the surface, they came crawling back with apologies.
But did it even matter anymore?

Avery lost everything the day her father betrayed the Silver-Ridge Pack.
Branded a traitor. Blamed for her sister's death. Sold to the very Alpha her father once betrayed.
Lucian Draveth is blind. Merciless. A monster whispered about in fear. A man who sees Avery as nothing more than a property.
But Avery refuses to submit.
"You want a chance, Avery? Fine. Let's play a game." His voice is calm.
"The main gate is half a mile through the forest. If you reach it and pass through before I lay a hand on you… you are free."
My breath hitches. "And if you catch me?"
"Then you stop fighting and come back. Run."
Five minutes. Half a mile. One blind Alpha hunting her through the dark.
Avery runs. Not because she believes she'll win but because she refuses to break.
The closer Avery gets to freedom, the more she realizes something is wrong. Lucian is hiding something far worse than cruelty.
And when Avery learns why he refuses to let her go, revenge stops being enough.
In a world where the Moon Goddess chooses mates, Avery must decide: destroy the monster or survive loving one.
Warning: Mature content. Dark romance themes.

Jennifer unexpectedly awakens a mysterious ability—she can peek into people’s secrets and glimpse their futures. After transferring to a new class, she curiously explores her classmates’ hidden truths… only to see the tragic ends awaiting them.

But she doesn’t know that her classmates can hear her thoughts! And the moment they learn their fates, the wheels of destiny begin to turn…

Jennifer wants to help them, but she realizes something shocking before she can act—everyone’s fate has already changed. And somehow, all of it seems to be tied to her thoughts!

Who is controlling fate? Is her newfound power a gift from the heavens, or the start of something far more sinister?

The multi-million-dollar deal I worked my ass off to win back was handed over by my boss to a clueless new hire who could barely even read the material codes. And that same rookie had the nerve to mock me in public, saying I was nothing but his errand girl.
My boss went even further, tore up every rule in the book, and shoved a termination agreement right at me.
I didn't argue. I didn't make a scene. I took the severance and walked away.
Because I knew one thing better than anyone: without me, they wouldn't even make it through the manufacturers' front doors.
Sure enough, just days after I left, the entire supply chain fell apart, and the company's cash flow completely collapsed.
And when they started scrambling in desperation, running all over New York begging investment executives to save them, they walked straight onto my mother's turf.

Three years ago, on their way to attend my graduation art exhibition, the cruise ship carrying my fiancé and my family caught fire.

Over the past three years, I downed sleeping pills countless times, desperately wanting to follow them into the afterlife. Every single time, my adopted sister, Serena, saved me, crying hysterically as she shoved her fingers down my throat to make me throw up.

"They are already gone! Harper, you can't keep living in the past. You have to live on for their sake!"

After fainting from yet another high fever and being rushed to the hospital, I was diagnosed with terminal leukemia.

The doctor said I had a month left, at most.

I refused their advice to find a bone marrow match. Clutching my family's belongings, I decided to go back to our old estate in the suburbs for one last look.

While I was walking in a daze, a little boy running wildly crashed hard into my legs.

A male voice that had haunted my dreams for years rang out from behind me. "Alistair, if you keep running off, what will you do if Mommy and Daddy don't want you anymore?"

In an instant, it felt like I had been plunged into freezing water. I froze in place.

I snapped photos of pale yellow baby clothes I’d bought at Target, posted them on Instagram captioned “Juno's wardrobe.”
Right after I put my phone away, my mother-in-law Genevieve called and berated me. She claimed I’d lost my mind after our stillbirth, insisted I wasn’t pregnant, and demanded I delete the post.
As soon as we hung up, my water broke.
Six hours later, I woke up worn out on a hospital delivery bed at Devereux Memorial Hospital. No baby cried anywhere.
My husband Elias sat beside me with bloodshot eyes. He pulled a lifelike silicone fake pregnancy belly out and set it on my lap, begging me to accept I wasn’t actually carrying a child. I screamed that I’d given birth and demanded to know where my baby Juno was.
Dr. Beckett and a team of doctors walked in, diagnosing me with pseudocyesis—phantom pregnancy. They said I’d only worn a silicone pad to fake a belly. My parents stood nearby, staring at me with shameful pity.
They forced me onto a psychiatric ambulance. I was locked in a windowless ward, drugged nonstop, tormented by the loss of my daughter, until every ounce of my will faded away...

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.

They wanted a real daughter, so they traded me for her.
On the engagement day, my fiancé slipped a ring on her finger. My parents handed me a train ticket to oblivion.
They celebrated their victory while I disappeared.
What they didn't realize was that letting me go was the worst mistake of their lives.
I am the surgical prodigy saving lives that science deems hopeless. I am the muse of the art world. I am the true heir to a dynasty they couldn't even dream of.
Now, I am back.
Not as the girl they abandoned, but as the storm they prayed would never come.
My ex-fiancé kneels in regret. My fake sister chokes on her jealousy. And the CEO who once looked through me? He is now crawling, desperate to taste the success he once threw away.
The joke isn't on me.
It's on them.

BLURB: Grace Bennet swore she'd left her sins behind. Now she's back at Raven’s End, vowing to live quietly, no temptation, no lies, no blood.
But the town remembers her and the perils of her beauty. The sheriff can't stop watching her. Her stepbrother can't stop threatening her. Jeremy can't stop himself from wanting her.
Every man she touches falls apart. Every sin she hides pulls her closer to the edge. And when the lake starts calling her name again, She realises that her past isn't buried, it's so alive.

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.

"You were meant to be my death. Instead, you've become my damnation."
Aria Thornwell has spent three years as a healer in her town, attempting to forget the night her former fiancé publically humiliated her by selecting her affluent stepsister instead—taking Aria's family fortune with him. Now, she lives quietly, utilizing her skill to aid the underprivileged while her stepfamily flaunts their stolen fortune.

But on the winter solstice, everything changes. She's chosen as the ceremonial bride for the vampires' holy Winter Feast—a "honor" that guarantees death at daybreak following the Christmas Eve rite. Dragged to the Crimson Vale with five other human tributes, Aria is prepared to meet her fate with dignity.

Until she meets him.

Lord Sebastian Thorne, the ancient vampire who has presided over the Winter Feast for eight centuries, is meant to drain her at dawn following the binding ritual. It's tradition. It's law. It's survival—the ceremonial blood maintains the vampire realm for another year.

But as Sebastian's lips brush her throat in the ceremonial hall, something unbelievable happens. Her blood doesn't simply sustain him—it wakes something in him that's been dead for generations. And in a move that shocks the whole vampire court, he refuses to complete the rite.
"This one is mine," he proclaims, his old strength sweeping the hall. "Anyone who touches her answers to me."

Trapped in the Obsidian Palace as Sebastian's "protected bride," Aria discovers three frightening truths: Sebastian isn't protecting her out of mercy—he's dying from an ancient curse, and her blood is the only thing keeping him alive past Christmas; the vampire court will do anything to kill her and reinstate the ritual; and her "ordinary" healer's gift is actually a rare and dangerous power that vampire nobility has been hunting for generations.

Three years ago, I was the sole surviving legendary mage of Ash Valley. To fulfill my comrade's dying wish, I married into the Robert family, becoming a despised and bullied son-in-law . For three years, I endured torment and humiliation; my entire family treated me like trash . My wife handed me divorce papers , then accepted the marriage proposal of a nobleman. On my wedding day, I walked into the hall in old clothes, and everyone laughed, thinking I was crazy. Until I shattered all magic with a wave of my hand, my legendary presence overwhelming everyone present, the woman who had once despised me finally cried and asked me: Why did you lie to me?

I married a man who didn't love me.
When other women falsely accused me, not only did he not help me, but he also sided with them to bully and hurt me...
I was utterly disappointed in him and divorced him!
After returning to my parents' home, my father asked me to inherit billions in assets, and my mother and grandmother pampered me, making me the happiest woman in the world!
At this point, that man regretted it. He came to me, knelt down, and begged me to remarry him.
So, tell me, how should I punish this heartless man?
（I highly recommend a captivating book that I couldn't put down for three days and nights. It's incredibly engaging and a must-read. The title of the book is "The Billionaire's Daughter" You can find it by searching for it in the search bar.）

She watched her husband walk out of the obstetrics ward with his mistress. She walked out of oncology.
Years of neglect. A critically ill family member draining every penny she had. She clung to him like a parasite—not out of love, but survival. And he knew it. He was certain she would never leave.
Until the day he saw the blood she coughed up. And the prenatal report lying next to it.
He tore up the divorce papers and locked her by his side.
This time, love arrived before death did.

When nineteen-year-old Seraphina Winters returns home after her mother’s sudden marriage, she expects distance and discomfort not the magnetic pull of her new stepfather. Damon Blackwood is powerful, guarded, and dangerously attentive, and living under the same roof makes every glance feel like a test of control.

As secrets rise and boundaries blur, Seraphina is forced to confront feelings she never invited, while Damon struggles between duty, guilt, and a desire he refuses to name. In a house built on wealth and silence, one wrong step could destroy them both.

Some love stories aren’t meant to begin but once they do, they refuse to end quietly.

Married for years. Hidden for years. A wife no one knew existed.
The day the doctors said terminal, her husband named a skyscraper after himself and his mistress. The city cheered. Then he called — not to ask if she was okay, but to order her to clean up the scandal. Smile. Swallow it.
She did. She always did.
The hospital called. Emergency surgery. He hung up. Blocked the number.
She went under the knife alone. No hand to hold. No one outside that door. As the anesthesia dragged her down, one thought lingered — if she died tonight, would he even know?
She didn't die. But something in her did.
Divorce papers signed. No tears. No begging. Gone.
Years later, her name lit up every headline — the visionary AI architect behind a global tech revolution. The world couldn't stop saying her name.
He came crawling back. Apologies. Grand gestures. Begging outside her door for hours. His empire meant nothing now. Every achievement tasted like ash. That skyscraper mocked him against the skyline every single day.
She looked at him the way you look at a stranger.
"Do I know you?"
And walked away. Not once looking back.

On my husband’s birthday, my sister returned home.
The first thing she said to me was, "So, when are you planning to divorce him?"
I let out a cold laugh, turned on my heel, and headed straight to a club to hire eight go-go dancers.
I was in the middle of a steamy, skin-to-skin dance with a model who had a perfect eight-pack when my husband—who usually makes it a point to be in bed early—dragged me off the dance floor.
Looking at his dark, livid face, I said, "The young men here don't need an early bedtime to hold onto their youth. You're already old." I tapped his cheek and smiled. "And I deserve better."

As a wife and mother, she came home one day to find another woman in her place.
That was when she knew. This marriage was beyond saving.
The lies and deception were just a thin veil no one bothered to see through. The favoritism. The blame. Year after year, cutting into her like glass.
When the birthday cake she had fought so hard to get ended up in the trash, she swallowed her tears along with the bitterness.
Giving up became inevitable. So did the divorce.
It wasn't until dust settled on her vanity table that her husband and children finally realized—home had become a cold, empty coffin.

Eight months pregnant, strung up and tortured by her own husband — because he decided the baby wasn't his.
She nursed him back from his accident. Held his family together with her bare hands. And another woman wore the crown that was hers.
They plastered her face across explicit photos. Forged the paternity test. Took everything — even her name.
She watched, screaming, shattering — as her husband ripped their newborn from her arms and threw the child into a cage of beasts.
Her mother couldn't take it. She jumped.
Her father was tortured until she couldn't recognize his face.
She begged to live. They wouldn't let her.
She begged to die. They wouldn't let her either.
Until she was reborn.
She remembers every face. Every wound. Every scream.
And this time, there will be no mercy.

After years of marriage, my husband has always believed that our one-night stand was a trap I set for him.
There’s another woman in his heart.
What I never expected was that even my own son would turn his back on me.

They gave him 24 hours to hand over the girl.
He gave them 30 seconds to regret .

Jack Cole was supposed to be nobody—just another quiet college student.
No records. No past. No trace he ever existed.

But when a powerful family tries to take his cousin as part of a dirty deal…
and a billionaire heiress becomes the target of a professional kill team…

Something buried comes back.

The campus?
Just his cover.

The truth?
He’s a weapon trained for war—
the kind governments deny, and enemies never see coming.

Now the richest family in the city wants him dead.
A private army is moving in.
And a global biotech empire is pulling strings from the shadows.

They think they’re hunting him.

They’re wrong.

Jack isn’t running.
He’s choosing who dies first.

For seven years, Rose Bennett was Ryan Knight’s secret wife.
While all of New York believed Samantha Hikk would become Mrs. Knight, Rose silently endured a cold marriage to a man who never loved her.
Until one night, Samantha is rushed into Rose’s emergency room pregnant… and Ryan is the one protecting her.
That is the night Rose stops loving him.
What Ryan never knew was that Rose had already given birth to his daughter years ago after he rejected both mother and child without hesitation.
So Rose walks away—with only two suitcases, a hidden daughter, and the shattered remains of seven years.
But the woman Ryan abandoned is no ordinary wife.
Rose is the hidden genius behind Aetheris Medical AI, the revolutionary system about to change the entire medical world.
As Rose rises to the top, becoming untouchable, powerful, and impossible to replace, Ryan finally realizes the devastating truth—
He didn’t lose a woman who loved him.
He lost the only woman he would ever love.
And by then, even their daughter no longer calls him father.

In the sixth year of my life as a Scale-Stripper, I finally gathered the hundredth vial of Dragon Breath Essence.

I knelt before the altar, cradling the crystal bottle in both hands. The golden light swirling within it cast a warm glow across my scarred knuckles. Six years — six years of wandering the most dangerous battlefields of the Five Clans and the plague-ridden wastelands, using dragon breath to heal the wounded. For every person I saved, I had peeled away a living scale from my own flesh, baring the raw, bleeding meat beneath.

Seven scales left on my back.

Only seven.

But as long as it saved my brother Lucien, it was worth it.

Six years ago, during the Dragon Slaughter War, our parents had been assassinated by humans. An ancient curse had struck Lucien; his scales were crumbling away, day by day. He told me that only a hundred vials of Dragon Breath Essence could break the curse.

I held the crystal bottle out to him, my voice trembling with barely contained emotion. "Lucien, a hundred vials. We finally have enough."

Lucien took the bottle and glanced at it.

Then he tossed it off the altar without a second thought.

I went rigid.

Lucien stood at the top of the altar.

"I was never cursed," he said.

My hands were still cupped in the shape of holding the bottle, all ten fingers suspended in midair.

"Our parents never died, either."

"The Dragon Slaughter War six years ago, I planned it. The only one left crippled, with broken wings, was you."

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

I am originally of royal vampire bloodline.
But because of one sentence from my adoptive father, I hid in the human world for decades.
The Church called me a "filthy heretic" because vampire blood flowed in my veins.
Yet they burned a blind girl to death, her crime being that she "couldn't see."
They burned an old blacksmith to death, his crime being that he wanted to learn medicine.
They burned a young mother to death, her crime being that she refused to be violated by the captain of the holy knights.
Bathed in holy light, I realized for the first time—
The demons... are in the light.

Four months pregnant, I walked into the OB-GYN clinic filled with joy—this was the child Archer and I had waited three years for.
But the moment the ultrasound report was handed to him, his gentle gray eyes twisted violently.
"Abort it. We absolutely cannot keep this child."
My stepfather watched coldly. The stepbrother who doted on me most slapped me hard across the face. My own mother wielded the scalpel and removed my uterus.
Half a month later, they picked me up from the hospital with roses, only to turn around and lock me away, feeding me psychiatric drugs until I died.
Reborn, I thought that as long as I hid the report, I could save my baby.
But they forced me onto the operating table once again.
It wasn't until I saw the report with my own eyes—
That I finally understood why my child had to die.

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.

Six months ago, a yacht explosion consumed everyone I loved: my husband Leonard, my parents, and my brother.
I escaped only because of stomach pain that kept me from boarding. My adopted sister Claire became the sole survivor.
Since then, I've become an empty shell.
Even after being diagnosed with terminal uterine cancer, even while carrying my late husband's child, I've endured the agony of chemotherapy alone, exhausting what little strength remains to scrape together money for Claire—who hides away in a private care facility, claiming severe PTSD.
Until this winter day, with a blizzard approaching.
Dragging my dying body to my husband's memorial to pay respects, I discovered a credit card statement—charges made three months after his death.
Following the address on that receipt, I pushed open the door of a luxurious suburban villa.
Inside, it was warm as spring. My parents and brother, who should have been at the bottom of the ocean, stood there perfectly alive.
At the center of the room, my husband—the man I'd grieved for day and night—was kissing my adopted sister, his lips tender against hers.
The whole family was celebrating, raising glasses to toast the infant cradled in Claire's arms—barely a month old.
There had never been any disaster at sea.
It was all a meticulously planned hoax—their twisted way to erase me from their lives forever.

I burn through eighty years of my life raising three dogs that turn around and tear into me.

My vampire husband, Damian, used to be an outcast covered in festering sores, cursed to fear the sun. I cut my wrist and gave up thirty years of my life so he could become the most powerful man among the bloodlines, in control of half the world's wealth. Cold and ruthless to everyone else, he only ever bares his fangs for me.

Knox, the werewolf boy I grew up with, was born with a genetic flaw that kept him from ever shifting. I gave up another twenty years so he could have the strongest bloodline of all. Wild and reckless, he used to swear he'd carry me on his back for the rest of his life.

Julian, my human brother, got burned beyond recognition saving me from a fire. I spent my last thirty years giving him back a face people would pay a fortune for. He used to send crates of his paintings to my room, the kind of work people would kill to own.

Then a woman named Daphne shows up, and all three of them lose their minds over her.

And somehow I become the jealous, vicious wife everyone wants gone.

She cries that I pushed her, so they drive blades of blood straight through my bones.

She says I'm cruel to the staff, so they break my legs in front of a crowd.

And when I'm dying, they drain my blood to keep her alive.

If you're all going to treat the life I gave you like trash, then I'm taking it back. The strength, the face, the life. All of it.

[God, I take it back. I want everything I gave them returned to me.]

I was driving my dad's luxury car to pick up a friend when his secretary stopped me on the spot.
She mistook me for the lover who had sex with my dad in his office.
So she used car theft as an excuse to drag me into the basement, beat me up, and took nude photos of me.
When my dad found out, he asked me to apologize to her.
That's when I realized that in his eyes, his reputation mattered more than his own daughter.
If that's the case, he doesn't need to be the figurehead CEO anymore.