8991 Book(s) Related to heart of the sun warrior: a novel

To pay off my brother's gambling debts, I became Matthew's mistress.
Because he needed a wife as a shield, we got married.
After marriage I tried to play his wife until his first love came back.
I deliberately provoked her and took the opportunity to file for divorce.
After the divorce, I found out I was pregnant, and five years later I returned to the city with my daughter......

Three months ago, my life changed for the worst. I caught my boyfriend in bed with another woman and Instead of apologising, he told me I won't find another man better than him.

I took it personally and decided to make him choke on that.

So I made a deal with the one man guaranteed to prove him wrong~ His hockey captain, his idol, and the most dangerously confident man I've ever met.

Reid Williams.

The last man I should be making deals with.

He'll pretend to be mine to make my ex regret everything...

In return, I'll help him fix the reputation that's one bad headline away from destroying his entire career.

It's supposed to be simple, controlled, fake.

But Reid doesn't leave things halfway.

Nothing about the way he looks at me seems fake, nothing about the way his hand settles on my waist like it's a claim, nothing about the way his lips linger after a kiss.

And everytime I remember this is just a deal... He gives me a reason to forget.

My life took a turn for the worse when I married an arrogant billionaire who made me pregnant. Little did I know that this was just the beginning of my misery. However, a sudden and unexpected tragedy completely transformed my life, igniting a burning rage and deep contempt for him.

Believed to be dead by everyone, I have spent the past four years plotting my revenge. Returning now, my sole purpose is to make my billionaire ex-husband pay for what he did. With my own wealth, I will inflict torment upon his already debt-ridden existence.

The man I despise the most, Mr. Diego Alfonzo, is the target of my vengeance. I have vowed to myself that I will seek retribution against him.

My crave for revenge is insatiable; I yearn to witness his suffering.

Nyra had died with a heart that cried out for justice after being betrayed by her husband and her step sister.
Only to reawaken on her wedding to him except this time, she is aware of his betrayal and would stop at nothing to make everyone that had ruined her life PAY…
Even if it meant falling into the arms of the tyrant Alpha Brothers.

Nymera Lancaster is a junior lawyer who discovers through a divorce case that her husband was already married with children, she goes into labor from the shock and wakes up in a werewolf world wearing a stranger's face. With no way back and no choice but to survive, she does the only thing she knows how to do, which is to be a lawyer. Kade Merrick, the Alpha Lawyer whose word is law, has never met anyone who argues back the way she does and he is immediately intrigued but Nymera is living on borrowed identity, the woman whose body she occupies wants it back and the Beta who wants Kade will do anything to expose her. When her true identity is exposed and both worlds make their claim on her, Nymera must fight the most important case of her life with no allies and everything to lose.

Clara Vale lost her award, her career, and her dignity on the same red carpet.

The world thought she ran to hide.

They were wrong.

She ran to the only place that had ever made her feel clean: a mountain town above the snowline, where a quiet rescue captain named Elias Roan had lived in her secret account, her unfinished letters, and her heart for three years.

But shame follows fast. So does the man who ruined her.

And when Clara's past climbs the mountain to destroy her one last time, Elias may be the only person willing to stand between her and the crowd.

For three years, Mara Ellis raised twins for a dead man.

Then the comments appeared in the air.

They said Caleb Ward was alive.

They said he was about to marry another woman.

They said Mara was only the abandoned side character who would show up too late.

Mara folded one more tiny shirt, looked at her sleeping children, and decided the story had never met a mother with overdue bills.

The door wasn't closed properly, and I overheard the truth that had been thirteen years in the making.

She called me a simp, said she never submitted an MBA application, and said her whole family was just waiting to live off my trust fund.

I didn't rush in at that moment—only a fool would give the other side a chance to perform.

I simply pressed the elevator button, got back into my car, and deleted all contact information within three seconds.

Then I began the liquidation: assets, contracts, guarantee agreements, cutting them off cleanly one by one.

Thirteen years is enough to feed a liar.

Next, she needs to know that the Grant family never does business at a loss.

His military medals from three hundred years ago are the last mark of his human identity; now hidden in a junkyard, he is forced to tear off the disguise of the progenitor of the night due to a forced marriage. With powerful figures pressing in, vampires besieging him, and the Holy See approaching, he, in his mortal body, protects the orphan of his benefactor and faces the destined battle.

"Swallow it all, baby. Be my good girl," Carson groans, his grip tightening in my hair as I kneel between his legs in the Rolls-Royce.

I'm Leah Walker, once a Stanford-educated heiress, daughter of Bayford's mayor. But when my mom was framed and imprisoned by corrupt bastards like Matthew Cole, I lost everything. To survive and plot revenge, I became the city's most expensive call girl—gathering secrets, leverage, and cash from powerful men who thought they controlled me.

Now, with a fake pregnancy, a staged murder, and alliances forged in the shadows, I'm dismantling the Cole empire piece by piece. Carson, the clueless son, is my pawn; Ethan, the dangerous casino king, my unexpected ally. But as bodies drop and truths ignite, will my quest for vengeance consume me—or set me free? In this twisted game of sex, lies, and power, I'm nobody's whore anymore.

I broke the track record. My ex showed up with my best friend—his new fiancée—to humiliate me. Three years of betrayal, lies, and a career-ending crash that was never really an accident.
So I lied: told everyone I'm marrying Lorenzo Vitali, the man every driver fears and respects.
Problem? He heard everything. And he's not denying it.
Now my ex is spiraling, desperate to prove I'm still the broken girl he destroyed. My former best friend's perfect mask is cracking. And Lorenzo just stopped pretending this is fake.
They thought I'd crawl back. Instead, they're about to learn what happens when you push the wrong woman too far.

I was reborn on the eve of the arranged marriage, and the first thing Liana and I did was swap our marriage contracts.
In my past life, gentle Liana had married Kael, the cold and ruthless Alpha of the Wolf Clan.
But Kael always put the scheming daughter of his savior first, condemning my cousin to a lifetime of endless grievance and suffocating misery.
As for me, with my fiery temper, I’d been wed to a mediocre, weak Beta.
He spent every day complaining that I “wasn’t a woman at all”. Endless quarrels and the crushing burden of the family eventually led me to a tragic end—dying exhausted on the battlefield.
Now I opened my eyes again, staring at the fateful marriage contract on the nightstand. I clenched my fists and looked at my teary-eyed cousin.
“Tomorrow, you’ll marry that Beta. And as for that cold-blooded Alpha? I’ll take care of him.”

In my previous life, on the night of our wedding anniversary, my husband Bryan brought his pregnant mistress, Victoria, into our home. Driven to the edge, I slashed my wrists to force him to kick her out.
No one could have predicted her blood sugar would suddenly crash in the freezing storm outside. She collapsed into a flooded ditch and froze to death before anyone found her.
Everyone ruled it a tragic accident, but Bryan decided her blood was on my hands.
Months later, when I went into labor, he abused his position as my doctor to deliberately delay my care. He left me to writhe through dozens of hours of agonizing contractions and severe hemorrhaging until I bled out.
When, with hands slick with my own blood, I begged him to save our baby, he calmly peeled off his soiled surgical gloves. The look in his eyes was merciless.
"Heartbroken?" he sneered. "Good. Take the brat down to hell with you to keep Victoria company."
An icy, suffocating darkness swallowed me whole.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact night of our anniversary—the very moment Bryan, bringing the freezing rain in with him, protectively guided Victoria through my front door.

I took a submachine gun bullet for Mafia Don Vincenzo Lombardi. I drank poisoned wine for him and bore his heir. To the the entire syndicate, I was his loyal cleaner and lucky talisman.
But the moment he seized ultimate power, he brought her home—my "pure and fragile" adopted sister, Vanessa.
For her, Vincenzo shattered my knees, handed over my title as Donna, and turned my own son against me. He dismissed my broken heart, claiming I was being petty and that she was merely "joining the family."
Yet, the innocent Vanessa was a monster in disguise. She ruthlessly slit her own mother’s throat—the woman who raised me—and locked me in a sub-zero freezer.
When Vincenzo finally pried the heavy iron door open, there was no pity in his eyes. He only offered a cold command: crawl and beg his pregnant new Donna for forgiveness.
Wiping the bloody ice crystals from my lips, I looked at the man I had loved with my life, and rasped my final words: "Vincenzo... I'm dying."

My mother stared at my body, fused to the sofa, and waited forty minutes before calling 911.
She cheerfully told my father the news, deciding they should celebrate with a nice dinner.
Of course.
After all, they could finally be rid of the burden I’d become—no more tormenting me, no more keeping me locked away.
They could go back to being the respectable parents everyone thought they were.
But—
Someone was bound to see the truth.

Just as my business partner called to gloat, the loan shark's hitmen were frantically hacking at my security door.

"Arthur, I've been reborn too. I embezzled that ten million in company funds to build a doomsday bunker. Enjoy taking the knife for me!"

Listening to the voice through the receiver, I simply smashed the window and vaulted from the second floor, not wasting even half a second on his bullshit.

Building a private shelter with ten million in dirty money? He had absolutely no idea just how terrifying the monsters that would rip apart the earth's crust in thirty days truly were.

Dragging my bleeding arm, I charged into an underground internet cafe and forcibly hacked into the highest early warning system of the Overseas Defense Agency.

Half a year later, the Abyss descended. His proud bunker was crushed like papier-mâché during the very first beast tide. As he scrambled for his life through the mud like a pathetic bug, he looked up—only to see a national-level steel fortress stretching for thousands of kilometers across the horizon.

And there I was, clad in a black-and-gold Supreme Commander uniform, looking down at him from hundreds of meters above.

For eighteen months, I loved Asher in secret, betting all my pride and heart on our hidden affair. He took my tenderness while prioritizing his rich fiancée, mocking my love and sacrificing my future for his family’s marriage deal. Shamed online, shunned at school and tormented, I made no fuss. I repaid every dollar he gave me, cut all ties, transferred schools and rebuilt myself. He broke off his engagement, lost his pride and begged me to come back—yet all I offered was a final goodbye.

I used to think I was the luckiest woman in the world.

Married to my first love, Matteo Rossi—mafia boss—with an adorable son.

Until that afternoon. Luca was running a fever, whining for cake from that shop across town—a four-hour round trip.

I hesitated.

Matteo immediately chimed in: "Go ahead, babe. Don't worry, I got him."

I grabbed the car keys and turned. Before leaving, I glanced back—he was kneeling beside Luca's bed, his large hand gently stroking our son's burning forehead.

What a perfect fucking picture.

Until I heard that GODDAMN surveillance recording.

When the debate is evenly matched, it's called discourse.
When you drag a socially anxious mess who can barely string together a coherent sentence onto the judgment platform of Ivy League elites—that's public execution.
My name is Scarlett Hayes. Ten minutes ago, if anyone had told me I'd be standing in a two-thousand-seat auditorium, pointing at Arthur—the nation's debate king—and shredding his logic to ribbons, I would've told them to see a shrink.
But right now, that sketchy pink energy shot I slammed down is surging through my bloodstream like molten adrenaline.
And that logic engine—the one that's been dead for twenty years, paralyzed by fear—just roared back to life.

To save my girlfriend, I crippled my right leg, reducing myself to the lowest scum in the shelter for anyone to trample on.

In return, I watched her nestle in the leader’s arms, using perfume in disgust to mask her nausea at my festering wound. To prove her loyalty to her new lover, she coldly looked down at me and pressed the release switch, plunging my broken body into a waste pit dozens of meters deep.

Waiting below were thousands of pale, starving skeletal claws.

They thought they had simply discarded an eyesore, free to continue their comfortable lives up in the high tower. Little did they know, the Dark-Gold tier virus dormant within my ruined leg finally awakened, triggered by the scent of fresh blood.

When the endless zombie horde fell to their knees at my feet, letting out whimpers of absolute submission, I knew—it was time for me to rewrite the rules of survival in this wasteland.

My name is Maya Wilson. I'm seventeen, I have 100K TikTok followers, and I just watched my dad destroy our family for a twenty-five-year-old homewrecker named Ashley.

"Ashley makes me feel alive again," he said, dismissing seventeen years of marriage like a bad business deal.

"We'll be one happy family," she smiled, standing in our kitchen like she already owned it.

That's when I knew: Mom needed my protection.

What followed was a war fought with laptops and lies, fake pregnancies and real heartbreak. A battle between a broken housewife discovering her strength, a teenage girl wielding digital weapons, and a woman who thought she could manipulate her way to victory.

Six months later, Mom would be accepting awards. Ashley would be gone. And Dad?

Dad would be begging for forgiveness he'd never get.

I’ve been guarding a door in the Nevada underground for a hundred years. The system marks this place "Abandoned," and the official records claim I don't exist.
When the investigation team arrived, the leader was my old signal corpsman. He pretended not to know me and ordered his guards to drag me out like a piece of dead weight.
They shoved a young lad from the Rex family into the breach as bait, and while everyone screamed in horror, no one dared to move.
So, I jumped down to fish the kid out, using a bottle of beer to force back the tentacles reaching from the dark.
Then, I pulled on that dusty old uniform and pressed my palm against the master console—all thirty-two security protocols verified instantly.
The lead technician collapsed in shock: "This clearance level is restricted to the Chief Architect only."
He was right. I am.
The thing I’ve kept locked behind that door for a century woke up, whispering: "What do you want?"
I said: "Dinner."

My husband's body moved over Celeste's, driving into her with brutal force.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning like she did for her three million followers—except this performance was just for him.
I was her assistant. Her best friend, supposedly. Which is how I knew her passcode.
Now I was wedged in the back of her bedroom closet, phone aimed through the gap in the slats, ready to catch the bastard in the act.
Then Celeste's moans ripped into a scream. The mattress lurched violently. Blood poured down the sheets in thick rivers.
Her head hit the floor. Rolled. Stopped right in front of the closet.
Those wide eyes met mine through the darkness.

I drank myself into a stomach perforation, all to secure investment for Mu Jingshen's company.

As I was wheeled into the emergency room, blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. I heard a doctor shouting: "Where's the next of kin? We need a signature for surgery, now!"

My hands shaking violently, I dialed Mu Jingshen's number.
His contact was saved under "A Hubby", pinned to the very top of my contact list, just so I'd never miss a single call from him.

The call connected, and I forced out every last bit of my strength to speak, my voice weak and trembling:
"Jingshen, I need emergency surgery. Can you come sign the consent forms for me, please..."

But it wasn't his voice that came through the line. It was Shen Wanrong's, sweet and cloying: "Jiejie, Jingshen's busy giving Huanhuan a bath right now."

The sound of running water stopped.
I heard him ask who was on the phone.

Shen Wanrong spoke in a hurt, plaintive whine: "It's Jiejie... Jingshen, do you want to take the call? What if it's an emergency?"

But he just said, his voice flat and dismissive: "Ignore her. Nothing could ever be more important than being here for Huanhuan's birthday."

Huanhuan was Shen Wanrong's pet dog.

I married a rapist.
After the wedding, I played the perfect wife. I always took off my makeup after he fell asleep, and reapplied it before he woke up.
My husband loved showing off on his livestream, bragging that women should know their place.
One viewer sent a warning in the chat:
[Run, man. Only vengeful spirits do their makeup in the middle of the night—when their resentment is strongest, the makeup lasts longer!]
I covered my face and grinned wickedly.
Oops, forgot concealer. My corpse marks are showing.

I gave him seventeen chances to marry me, yet he eagerly toasts with his new flame, showers her with gifts, and retreats to hotels with her.
He has forgotten that I do not have pierced ears, presenting me annually with earrings I can never wear; he has overlooked our seven-year anniversary but vividly remembers the one-year anniversary of his new lover's employment.
Seventeen promises of marriage, each one an empty promise; seven years of devoted affection, ultimately reduced to a mere laughingstock.
So I flew straight to his worst nightmare—Mexico.
And let him burn in the regret he never earned.

My parents ruined my wedding six times.

Every single time, right at the moment the ring was about to slip onto my finger—the first time, Mom knocked over the champagne tower. The second time, Dad drove his pickup truck straight through the floral arch... Either the groom wasn't good enough, or the wedding was too cheap. Each time was more batshit crazy than the last. The sixth time, Mom even held a knife to her own throat, threatening me not to put on the ring.

It made no sense to me—why push me to get married while doing everything to stop me from wearing that ring?

So for the seventh wedding, I chose a small chapel in a remote mountain area, went completely off-grid, dead certain they'd never track me down.

Just as Ethan was about to slide the ring onto my finger—

The chapel doors burst open.

Two figures stumbled in, gasping for air, faces streaked with tears.

My parents.

My serpent mate has locked me in the castle, nine months pregnant. A dozen serpent guards watch me day and night. I can't even leave the room.

A month ago, his brother died in a hunting accident. He became the serpent clan leader. Then he brought back his brother's widow, the woman he grew up with. His first love.

He said he needed to take care of his brother's widow. He told me we'd all live together in the castle, nice and peaceful.

I said no.

I'm his mate. I'm a beastman. My pride won't let me accept that. And they grew up together, childhood sweethearts. How could I not think about it?

She came to him in tears, heavily pregnant. She said I poisoned her medicine, that I wanted to kill her and the baby.

He believed her.

He decided I was just some rogue beastman with no background, jealous and vicious, only after his title and money. So he locked me in this freezing castle while he camped outside her delivery room.

When labor hit, I screamed for a healer. I swore I never hurt her. I just couldn't live with her under the same roof. I only ever loved him.

He just laughed. "You're good at acting. I don't believe a word out of you. Once she delivers safely, I'll deal with you. Don't think you can trick me into coming back."

But when a trembling guard reported "Your mate and the child... they didn't make it," he lost it completely.

In my last life, Natalie insisted on stepping out of the car to feed a wild grizzly.

I tried to stop her. Daniel shoved me into the bear's path instead — to save her.

The grizzly's teeth tore through my throat. My blood sprayed hot across the snow.

And there was Daniel, my boyfriend of three years, holding Natalie close. Not a scratch on her.

He even raised his phone to film me being ripped apart, then posted it on TikTok with the caption: "She gave her life to protect us." The donations poured in for weeks.

Now my eyes are open again. Natalie's pushing the car door open, sandwich in hand, ready to hand-feed the cubs.

This time, I don't scream. I don't stop her.

I just watch her lean halfway out the door — and lock it behind her.

My husband locked our fouryearold son in a 20°C wine cellar for his mistress. Our boy froze to death.
Lawyers silenced me. I was cast aside.
Three years later, I returned.
At a glittering New York gala, I tore apart every lie Liam and Mia had built. Liam begged for my forgiveness—but I had a solid anchor by my side, and I would never forgive him.

My fiancé of five years lent the white rose greenhouse—the one we built for our wedding—to his junior for her graduation project.
"Postponing the wedding to next year won't change anything. Elara, we've been together for five years. A few more months won't matter, right?"
He was certain I couldn't live without him, expecting me to wait around for him to cash his empty promises of marriage, just like I had countless times before.
I handed over the key, my voice flat. "She can have the greenhouse. But I'm done waiting for a five-year-old promise."
He froze for a second, then his brows furrowed, assuming I was just throwing a tantrum again. "Fine, act out all you want. I'll make it up to you once I'm done with this busy period."
Until a month later, when he scrolled through his social media feed and my wedding photos popped up on his screen.
Surrounded by a sea of white roses, I was in a wedding gown, smiling radiantly.
Staring at the screen, Julian was suddenly struck by the memory of the night I handed over that key.
My best friend, Maya, had practically gritted her teeth as she asked me:
"Didn't we agree that once this garden bloomed, you'd put on your dress and be the most beautiful bride in the world? He just carelessly gave away your wedding venue with a single sentence. What does he even take you for?"
I fought back the last bit of foolish obsession in my eyes and gave her a smile. "The wedding goes on as planned."
If Julian didn't want to get married, so be it.
I'd just marry someone else.

I was a scholarship student with thirty extra pounds. Del Ashford had two hundred thousand followers and her family's supplement brand on every wall of the athletic center. First week of school, she decided we were going to be best friends.
She said she wanted to help me get in shape. What that actually looked like: I carried her product shipments up three flights of stairs, drafted her emails, and picked up her lunch from the place across campus that didn't deliver.
My roommates started calling me her errand girl behind my back. I let them.
She also introduced me to Beckett Hale. After that, things went the way they went.
She knocked my protein shake over and said I'd burned her. She planted her limited-edition earphones in my bag and told everyone I'd stolen them. The school opened a conduct review. My roommates stopped talking to me.

Beckett said I was the kind of girl who got a little attention and started thinking she deserved more of it.
I couldn't prove any of it. By spring, I was gone.
Some people just aren't built for this, Wren. You know that, right?
Del hadn't even been looking at me when she said it.
Then I opened my eyes and I was back at the party. The night she introduced me to Beckett.

I’ve had a lot of things stolen from me by my stepsister, Paloma Thorne.
My father, my boyfriend, my baby, my thesis, my future...
When I was twenty-two, I walked into the university lab and caught Paloma and my boyfriend, Milo, tangled naked together. I miscarried on the spot. Later, as I lay in the hospital bed, Paloma used a secretly recorded sex tape of Milo and me as blackmail, sealing off my last possible way out. I didn't scream or cry. I just signed the papers, grabbed my suitcase, and left.
In Calder City, I met the mafia don, Darius Harlow. He was calm, dominant, and gave me a sense of security so overwhelming it was almost suffocating. So, I married him.
It wasn't until four years later, when I returned to Ellsworth for Paloma's wedding, that the illusion shattered.
The night before the wedding, standing outside a closed door, I heard her voice.
"Darius, I was the one who let go seven years ago. Let me make it up to you tonight. Please?"
The next second, I heard my husband's heavy breathing.
Only then did I realize that for the past four years, I was nothing but Paloma's stand-in.

The first time Tyler laid eyes on Ellie, he thought she was a quiet, shy, introverted girl.

Then she opened her mouth and shattered that illusion.

“Are you trying to sleep with me? Why are you staring at me?”

After a night of passion, she woke up and calmly eyed his abs like she was appraising merchandise.

“Here’s your tip. Thank you for your work last night!” she smirked, a dollar bill tucked between her fingers.

Does she think I am a gigolo? Tyler sneered.

Then one day, a message from Ellie lit up his phone:

[I’m getting engaged. Are you going to take me away? Gigolo?]

He scrambled to his feet, rushing to the engagement ceremony.

This time, no one could stop him from taking her.

"Are you accepting?' he probed, his eyes brazenly following every line in her body. Ivory instantly grew shy. Her nerve waning.

"I am considering it. However, I am not sure what it entails." her voice and bravado had weakened. Raiden nodded at her words, understanding that he was previously vague.

"It's not a relationship. As I have pointed out to you before, I am attracted to you and wish to explore a purely physical relationship, albeit temporarily," he said, eyeing her every reaction.

"You mean purely sexual?' she corrected him. She knew the words he used were aimed at sugar-coating the reality but she wasn't interested in half-truths when she was considering going against everything she believed in. Raiden nodded. "How long is it to persist?" The more she considered the option the riskier it seemed. She worked closely with Raiden, would this make their relationship awkward?

"It's terminable at the will of either party," he commented. He wasn't in the habit of forcing a woman to be with him, in fact, it was something he made no great strides over. She had complete freedom to stay or leave his bed.

"Another way of saying when you've grown tired of me." she laughed incredulously.

Riley
New name, new look, new life. I've been careful to keep my past at bay. The last thing I needed was the stranger with those calm discerning eyes to cross my path. I must avoid him at all costs, even if he haunts my dreams and sends waves of heat across my skin. My focus is survival, not lust. Not even if he ignited a longing I'd never thought possible.

Draven
A mission. Find the missing girls and bring the perpetrator to justice. The retributive kind. I've grown used to the shadows but I am drawn to her light. Moth to a flame, the only way to quell my curiosity is to satiate it. But not too much. Not completely.

TEASER:
You want me, don’t you?” A simple question that warranted a simple answer.
“Should I have had you checked for a head injury?” he scoffed, a swift blow that knocked the wind out of my lungs and I realised I had been holding my breath. My lips parted, and my chest heaved, working overtime to replenish my body’s oxygen from those few moments of starvation.
Steeling my spine, I stepped forward, invading his space, oblivious to the eyes that were thrown our way. Or was I imagining that? Draven didn’t budge, a perfectly shaped brow elevated as he considered my movement with little interest. There wasn’t a single flicker of emotion to cross his features, not even that Godforsaken misleading smile made an appearance.
“Then you’ve no reason to threaten any man I may find interesting.” I breathed the words slowly, erotically.

In a world overrun by zombies, survivors built a fortress—and my fiancée and I joined its action unit.
To help her secure her position, I turned down leadership’s offer to run my own squad and stayed by her side as the “invisible” second-in-command.

For a full year, I made the tactics, wrote the contingencies, and cleaned up every mission.
She took my plans as her own credit—and let the team treat me like dead weight.

Then, on one operation, she ignored my orders and changed the plan on the fly. Disaster followed.
In the debrief, she blamed everything on me in front of everyone.

I resigned on the spot.

Not long after, I took command of a new squad—and delivered the cleanest record in the entire base.
Her unit couldn’t even finish routine recovery runs.

Until a mandated joint op put our teams at the same rally point—
and she finally realized the “legendary captain” was me.

At a lavish dinner, a billionaire with a net worth of four billion embraced my ex-wife and slapped five thousand yuan in my face: "Kneel down, kiss her shoes, and then get out of here."
The entire audience of celebrities burst into laughter, while the ex-wife's eyes were filled with the pleasure of revenge.
Without even lifting my eyelids, I dialed a number in front of everyone: "I'm going to bankrupt one person. Execution level: nuclear bomb."
They laughed at me for pretending to be crazy.
Three minutes later, the entire nation was in an uproar. Four billion dollars in assets were frozen, the FBI broke down the door, and the once arrogant tycoon collapsed to the ground like a dog.
I endured for three years, just to save her grandfather's life. Since she's in such a hurry to break the contract, I don't need to pretend anymore.
This is not just a story about divorce; it's a countdown to the gods regaining control of the Book of Life and Death on Earth.

“Tell me, my sweet Mila, do you want me to stop?”

“No!” I gasp.

“Good, because no matter what, no matter who walks in, I won't,” He promised.

Killian Knight was many things, dangerous, a certified killer, devastatingly handsome, my father's business partner and married. He was not just off limits, he was forbidden, he was a sin and I was tempted enough to risk the hell fire.

He was everything that could ruin me and my body, my mind and my soul; everything was ready for it.

Mila Anderson’s life takes an unexpected turn when she succumbs to the magnetic allure of her father’s enigmatic and dangerous mafia associate. What she doesn’t know is that Killian Knight has the power to unravel everything she’s carefully built. One secret revealed could bring it all crashing down.

For Killian, one night with Mila changes everything. She’s everything he desires, yet she comes with her own web of secrets—and he’s determined to uncover every single one.

Married for seven years, I lived my life like an absolute joke.
For the sake of my brother, my wife personally uprooted the roses I had so painstakingly cultivated. To please her uncle, my daughter pointed at my nose and called me a "bad daddy."
The entire family even held a vote to force me to donate my bone marrow. My wife, Elena, raised her hand without a second thought: "You'll just lose a little bone marrow. Liam will die without you."
In that moment, my heart died.
The surgery was a success.
As the anesthesia wore off, Elena was holding my hand tightly. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her voice trembled with remorse: "Aaron, I was a jerk before. As long as you were willing to save Liam, I will love only you for the rest of my life."
She thought I would be as pathetically grateful as a dog, begging for her affection and humbly forgiving her.
But I merely frowned in disgust and pulled my hand back as if shaking off garbage.
In the dead silence, I looked at this tearful woman before me and asked, politely yet confused:
"Excuse me, ma'am... who are you?"

In my past life, I squandered all my wealth to support my fiancée's family, but when the extreme heat of the apocalypse arrived, she and her lover broke my legs, brutally drained my marrow, and devoured me alive.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the seven days before the apocalypse.

This time, I will never repeat the same mistake.

I decisively kicked away these cold-blooded parasites, canceled all my credit cards, and, with the true love who died to save me in my past life, built an indestructible, top-tier temperature-controlled fortress.

As global temperatures soared, Los Angeles became a scorching inferno, and the fiancée's family couldn't even get a sip of dirty water, ultimately being forced to resort to cannibalism and killing each other.

And I, sitting in a 22-degree air-conditioned room eating chilled watermelon, coldly watch this bloody live broadcast of dogs fighting each other.

The fires of hell have been lit, and your judgment has only just begun.

"Tell me, my sweet Mila, do you want me to stop?"
"No!" I gasp.
"Good, because no matter what, no matter who walks in, I won't," He promised.


Killian Knight was many things, dangerous, a certified killer, devastatingly handsome, my father's business partner and married. He was not just off limits, he was forbidden, he was a sin and I was tempted enough to risk the hell fire. He was everything that could ruin me and my body, my mind and my soul; everything was ready for it.
Mila Anderson's life takes an unexpected turn when she succumbs to the magnetic allure of her father's enigmatic and dangerous mafia associate.
What she doesn't know is that Killian Knight has the power to unravel everything she's carefully built. One secret revealed could bring it all crashing down.
For Killian, one night with Mila changes everything. She's everything he desires, yet she comes with her own web of secrets—and he's determined to uncover every single one.

Amellie Cruz is a normal girl who is boring to other girls on her age. She is not legally adopted but her family never made her feel unwanted and unloved. Her world will be entangled in a sweet return. Will she realize that she’s no longer acts her role instead she starts to fall in lover to her brother?
Ethan Andrews is a sweet and caring husband. But his world turns upside down when he saw her wife cheating on him. When he comes home after several years, he can’t believe that her sister is now a beautiful woman. Due to and accident, he wakes up claiming her as his wife.“Amellie is my wife.” Will his claim help his heart to heal and believe in love again?

After several abuse from her husband, Florence refused to let go of her home rather she was willing to fight for her marriage but not long when her husband mistress moved in and she was kicked out of her house. It was around this time she met Max, her billionaire ex boyfriend who was ready to do anything to have her back. Florence was ready to give love another chance and to start her life again with Max but Cole, her husband was not ready to let go. When calamity strikes Florence was thrown in a confused state on who exactly to be with between her abusive husband and her ex billionaire lover.

They're nothing more than longtime enemies and business rivals. They never imagined themselves working together. Justine needs a husband in order to become pregnant, while Lawrence needs a new bride. They always say that desperate times call for desperate methods. Justine reveals to Lawrence that his cousin and fiancée is cheating on him.
"Your wedding day will be in three days, right? What if you’ll change your bride? Why don’t you marry me instead? "
You only want an heir, but your husband is too attractive to be ignored. Is it possible to fall in love with your own rival and bully? What if you're only a rebound?
You accept your rival's offer merely to get back to your fiancée. Lawrence promised himself that he would never fall for anyone again. It will be over after we have completed each other's plans, however... Why does he desire more? Why did his heart betray him once more? Can a marriage that begins with a contract succeed? He's doomed... he seems to be in love with his estranged wife!

They all hate me. Being born as an elemental into a pack filled with necromancers was something unheard of - until me.

And even worse, I was wolfless.

Things started to get better when I found out that the Alpha of my pack was my mate, little did I know that I was going to face the worst possible rejection of my life.

Then the Cold War came and suddenly, I was starting afresh in this new academy where three Alphas claimed me as theirs. But this time, I refuse to be hurt, I'll become stronger and I'll be back for my revenge.

Will I push through or will they consume every last bit of my soul?

A torrential downpour of strong acid flooded the city, and mutated sea monsters slaughtered buildings. When Chloe, along with burly men from the rugby team, wielding fire axes, frantically smashed down the door, attempting to burn me alive and steal my bottled water, I had already welded the security door firmly into the load-bearing wall.
Faced with the pried-open door, I didn't waste any words and directly used a 20,000-volt electric spear to pierce the strong man's thigh! Then, I coldly pushed the blood-soaked floor outside.
The pungent smell of blood instantly attracted the skeletal behemoths from the water, turning the corridor into a horrific slaughterhouse. I listened coldly to their desperate screams in front of the monitor.
In this desolate wasteland, you think you can survive by stepping on me? Then feed the monsters with your flesh and blood !