7563 Book(s) Related to the maid wants to quit within the reverse harem game

She betrayed him. He destroyed her. And death may not be enough to separate them.

Eve Carter's testimony sent Sean Winters to prison for three years. When he emerged as Wall Street's most ruthless CEO, his vengeance was calculated and complete—seizing custody of the daughter she hid from him and watching her suffer with cold satisfaction.

What Sean doesn't know: Eve was forced to lie by her powerful mayor father. What Eve can't tell him: she's dying of terminal cancer with six months left to live.

Their daughter Grace, a bright-eyed six-year-old with a failing heart, builds fairy houses and whispers to her stuffed animals about the mommy and daddy who never smile together. Her innocent laughter masks the tragic legacy of two broken families.

When Eve takes a knife meant for Sean, his dismissive words cut deeper than the blade: "We're even now."

But nothing is even in a game rigged by fate.

After Eve chooses death over suffering, leaving behind a devastating confession, Sean's world shatters. A year later, still broken and raising their daughter alone, he glimpses honey-blonde hair in a crowd and hears that haunting laugh.

Is Eve defying death itself to reclaim what was stolen? Or will the truth destroy what remains of Sean's sanity when he discovers what really happened six years ago? Read now to find out!

Riley leans in, pressing his lips to hers in a soft, gentle kiss. Sofia responds, her lips parting as she deepens the kiss. Danny and Leo watch for a moment, then join in, their hands roaming over Sofia’s body as they kiss her neck and shoulder.

I watch, my own body reacting to the sight of my girl being kissed by my best friends. I would lie if I said I wouldn't rather take her all to myself, but I know they care for her and like her so damn much, just the way I do, and I can't help but feel warm at the thought of her getting this much love for once in her life.


To everyone else, Sofia looks like a quiet, shy girl who loves books more than people. Some even wonder if she lives in the library. But there’s a reason why she’s scared to go home; she overheard her parents planning to sell her to some rich mafia man so they could become rich themselves. Trying her best to avoid her house, she gets kidnapped by four men who planned to use her to hurt her husband-to-be. But the more time they spend with her, the more they fall in love, yes, all four of them.

Will they push their feelings aside to take down the mafia leader, or will they keep her to themselves?"

"I fell in love with a stranger. I didn't know he was my brother."
When I first saw Victor, I didn't see a sibling. I saw a man who set my skin on fire. I saw a pair of dark eyes that reflected my own soul. Our attraction wasn't just a choice—it was a gravity I couldn't escape. For weeks, we existed in a fever dream of late nights and whispered promises, building a future on a foundation I never knew was forbidden.
Then the truth came out. One old photograph, a single name, and my world shattered.
Now, the touch that felt like heaven feels like a sin. But how do you stop your heart from beating for the one person you were never supposed to touch?

In my past life, I signed a marriage agreement, served as a live-in son-in-law for five years, and died in a hospital. Meanwhile, my "wife," Grace, was on the moon, embracing her lover and watching the star rings.
Given a second chance, she threw the agreement in my face at the marriage summit: "Sign it. After the wedding, I'll go find Karl. You'd better act like the legal wife."
I didn't refuse; I just tossed the agreement to my emotional nemesis .
The whole city laughed at my madness.
Until Grace flaunted her "pure-blood heir" at the 100-day celebration, I publicly projected her sterilization report—
the bastard in her arms was the product of her lover and a downtown prostitute.
And her lover was being mutilated in the downtown area.
In this life, I'm not a live-in son-in-law; I'm her gravedigger.

For three years of marriage, I played the perfect, obedient wife.
I married him only because my family once saved his from bankruptcy, and because I had loved him since college.
I thought time would soften his heart.
Then his ex returned, and everything fell apart.
He threw a welcome party for her himself, called me to the office under the pretense of work, then turned around and dismissed me as an eyesore. The whispers in the company cut into me like needles.
That same day, the hospital called. I was eight weeks pregnant with his child. Before the joy could settle, the word divorce fell lightly from his lips.
I asked for three months, just enough time to leave with what little dignity I had left. He agreed without emotion.
Yet after I moved out, he secretly placed me in a luxury apartment and stationed people to watch me day and night.
When I finally hid my pregnancy and resolved to raise the child alone, ready to confront his scheming ex, he cornered me against the wall, eyes red, voice shaking.
“Who gave you permission to walk away with my child?”

“Jaxon,” she moans, her fingers twisting in my hair.
I reach her center, my fingers tracing the inside of her thighs. She’s soaked, and I know it has nothing to do with her shower. I can feel her clit throbbing, begging for attention. And God I'm going to give into it.


Jaxon raised by the Black Vipers since he was three, to those who know him, he’s nothing but a weapon—cold, untouchable, soulless. Across the city, Paige Taylor is the prized “Silk Tongue” of the Crimson Circle. Though innocent at heart, she has been trained from childhood to be the perfect translator and negotiato. Their paths collide during a high-stakes meeting that goes horribly wrong.

Do all men lose interest in their wives after marriage?

We’ve been married for five years, and he never touched me.

At first he said he wasn’t well, so I was understanding. Later he recovered, but still kept me far away.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my sister came in for a check-up, clearly pregnant with his child.

The truth hit me hard: he wasn’t incapable. He was just incapable with me.

I drew up the divorce papers, ready to end this empty marriage.

On the reason for divorce, I wrote with my own hand:

“Male sexual dysfunction; no marital relations in five years.”

He only smiled coldly when he saw it.

A week later, in the urology clinic.

I put on my medical gloves, looked at him, and said calmly:

“Sir, will you undress yourself, or shall I help you?”

His disapproval didn’t take away my confidence.

I still embraced better things in my career and love life!

But his life started to be filled with one accident after another.

A wealthy heir was ordered to seduce me, intending to photograph me in compromising positions to destroy my reputation.
At midnight, his hands trembled as he prepared to send the photos, but I coldly exposed his cowardice and ambition.
That night, he deleted all the evidence before my eyes, his gaze filled with complete fanaticism and submission.
Later, he knelt on one knee with a diamond ring, but I poured myself a drink: "I don't need a partner to share power with—I just need an obedient dog."

Born as the only wolfless person in her pack, Blake's life had been nothing but misery and humiliation, and she never expected things to change.
But one innocent accident would change the course of her life forever when she met an Alpha in the male bathroom of her school.
Now that her path had crossed with his, her life as a wolfless hybrid would now become the life of a powerful rogue wolf, and when she thought her fate with Nero couldn't get any more twisted, she is faced with the dilemma of choosing or killing him.
*I always knew Blake and I was an impossible force from the moment we met again, and I don't get why fate keeps trying to merge us… Only chaos can blossom from what we are, and I want to shield her from all of it.
But after everything that has happened so far, I realized that the universe wouldn't allow that to happen, so I will give in to its intention until everything burned into ash for us.

As the most cold-blooded and ruthless Mafia don, Twain Hall had doted on me like the apple of his eye for ten years.
But on the very day we were discussing our wedding, the ring his subordinate delivered had another woman's name engraved on it—not mine.
I pretended not to notice and turned to Twain.
"Did they bring the wrong ring? Who's Dorothy? I've never heard of her."
Twain's expression didn't change. He pulled me into his arms with that familiar, indulgent look.
"My people weren't careful. Made a fool of themselves."
"I'll have them exchange it right away. Can't keep my queen waiting."
I smiled. But the moment I turned away, my face went cold. I dialed a number.
"Didn't you say you'd pay any price to marry me? Twain Hall betrayed me. I want his head!"

"If you want a shot at the Olympics, and if you want that NHL draft, you will announce that you’ve been quietly dating," the Dean ordered, sliding the fake contract across the desk. I looked at Reid Carter, the arrogant hockey captain who had sabotaged my skates, the man I had despised for ten years. Now, I had to pretend to be deeply in love with him for ninety days. I grabbed the pen, my fingers trembling, and signed my name. "Perfect," the PR manager smiled. "Tonight is the bonfire. Act like you actually like her. Iris, try not to look like you're plotting his murder."

We walked into the dark parking lot, the scent of burning wood filling the air. "Ready to sell our souls?" Reid murmured, his massive hand suddenly wrapping around mine. An unexpected jolt of electricity shot up my arm. His skin was rough, calloused from years of gripping a hockey stick, but his heat melted right through my cold fingers. We stepped into the firelight, surrounded by a hundred whispering athletes and flashing cameras. I leaned my head against his broad shoulder, playing the perfect, obsessed girlfriend. "She's worth the trouble," he told the crowd, his voice dark and unreadable.

But when the cameras were gone, the lines began to blur. In the empty locker room, he pinned me against the cold metal lockers, his chest heaving. "You're squeezing too hard," I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs. "You're the one shaking, Ice Queen," he growled back, his face inches from mine. We were supposed to hate each other. We were supposed to be a PR stunt to save our funding. But as his gaze dropped to my lips, the fiery tension between us felt dangerously real. Would the world find out we were a fraud, or would this fake contract destroy us both?