7642 Book(s) Related to The Coldest Hearts

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.

"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?

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 spent five years letting men degrade me at a club, all to save $300,000 for my blind brother Joren's eye surgery.
The day I finally raised the money, I excitedly told him he would be able to see again—only to discover he was never blind to begin with.
My husband’s "bankrupt" company had been thriving all along. My parents, who supposedly died in a plane crash, had been living luxuriously abroad.
My husband even took my "stillborn" daughter and gave her to my adopted sister.
My entire family conned me for five years to "teach me a lesson"—all because my adopted sister claimed I bullied her.
Now, they are forcing me to donate my liver to the woman who stole my life, threatening that I'll never see my biological daughter again if I refuse.
But what they don't know is that I have terminal liver cancer, and I only have two days left to live...

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.

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.

My malicious stepsister threatened me with my brother's life, forcing me to marry a man rumored to be unspeakably ugly. I had no choice but to comply.
However, after the wedding, I discovered that this man was not ugly at all; on the contrary, he was both handsome and charming, and he was also a billionaire!
（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 "After Car Sex with the CEO." You can find it by searching for it in the search bar.）

"If you want to get your needs met tonight, it will be with me and no other man. Am I clear?"

¢¢¢¢¢¢¢¢

Charlotte Hendry escaped Houston's gilded cage to chase freedom on her own terms, graduate school in New York, a secret life in New Orleans, and absolutely zero entanglements. Maverick Pierce built his empire from nothing, turning poverty and pain into a billion-dollar media dynasty. Neither of them planned for a collision that would shatter every rule they had carefully constructed.

When Maverick discovers Charlotte at his favorite private BDSM club, he faces an impossible choice: walk away or claim the one woman who challenges every part of him. Their connection burns fast and undeniable. But Charlotte's independence and Maverick's possessive nature could destroy what neither of them expected to find.

Can two people who were never looking for love actually build something real?

Alison and Alexander have been married for three years but never met. During the day, she is his hired tutor, taking his salary and being enslaved by him. At night, Alison is the wife of a CEO, lying in Alexander's arms, enjoying his kisses and hearing his plea: "Can we extend the deadline of our contractual marriage?"

At the Morello family’s Christmas dinner, I stood beside Vincent, waiting for him to announce our engagement.
Instead, in the very next second, he walked in holding a little boy and claimed him as his son.
And the woman he said he was going to marry? Scarlett Morello. The one he had always introduced as his “sister.”
The whole room erupted in applause. I stood there frozen, like a nail hammered into the floor.
Later, in his study, he took my hand and said, “Scarlett is dying. Late-stage breast cancer. She only has six months left. After she’s gone, I’ll marry you.”
But there was no guilt in his eyes. No love, either.
Then he told me to go to his villa that afternoon, to take care of the woman who was supposedly “dying.”
I opened the photo he sent me. Scarlett was lying in a hospital bed, pale-faced, an IV in the back of her hand.
A professional tennis player who had been playing in an exhibition match three weeks ago, and who had dropped three grand at Louis Vuitton on Fifth Avenue just five days ago.
But sure. She was “dying.”
At three in the morning, I was curled up by the front door of my apartment, crying so long I lost track of time.
Then my phone lit up. A text from an unknown number:
[Elena, I’m downstairs. When we were kids, you told me that once I controlled the docks on the East Coast, you’d marry me. The docks are mine now. Does that promise still stand?]
I pulled back the curtain and there he was. Ethan Vitale, my first love, leaning against the door of a black Cadillac, lifting a hand in a lazy wave.
Three years ago, when he left New York, he was only a Capo.
Now, he was the Don of the Vitale family.
He didn’t rush me. Didn’t pressure me to come downstairs.
He came for one reason only, to let me know he was back.
I wiped away my tears and texted back:
[It still stands.]
Because I wanted to see for myself just how long that woman could keep up her act.

"I want you to fuck yourself. Long… deep and slow. Because I know it will be my face that you will see when you come." These were the words Elias Miles whispered into Chloe Bennett's ear, shattering her professional composure and reminding her that the man who owned the company also owned her every desire.

@@@@@

Chloe Bennett thought she had found the perfect escape when she spent a wild, anonymous night in Boston with a handsome stranger named Lio. Twelve months later, she lands her dream job in New York City, only to discover that her "Lio" is actually Elias Miles the notoriously cold, arrogant, and breathtakingly powerful CEO of Miles Media.

As Chloe navigates the treacherous waters of corporate espionage and high-stakes media wars, she must decide if she can handle the "all-or-nothing" intensity of a man who refuses to be second to anyone. With a rival media mogul breathing down their necks and a past that refuses to stay buried, their connection is tested by secrets, scandals, and a deep-seated fear of commitment.

Can Chloe Bennett break through the ice around Elias’s heart, or will this high-powered world of luxury and lies tear them apart for good? Does Elias Miles truly have a heart, or was Chloe just another stopover in his life?

SHE'S HIS LOST QUEEN. SHE JUST DOESN'T KNOW IT YET.

One night changed everything.

My foolish, 'curious cat' bravado led me past the forbidden threshold of the abandoned manor, only to plunge me into a darkness far more ancient and potent than any ghost story. I didn't just see things; I felt the spectral caress of forgotten magic, the soul-shattering truth of a power that almost consumed me. Then he emerged from the shadows – an enigmatic stranger whose handsome face and flimsy FBI claim were but a thin veil over something primal and intoxicating. He is not just the master of these crumbling walls, but the lord of its shadows, and I, a mere trespasser, have unwittingly awakened his possessive hunger. Those eyes, burning with an almost predatory intensity, didn't just see a girl who'd wandered in; they saw a discovery, a possession. He is more than just a man; he is an ancient, potent entity, and he's made it terrifyingly clear that from that one night, I am irrevocably, utterly his.

On the day of the flash marriage, the newlywed husband left Shelley for a business trip. Since it was a marriage of convenience, Shelley thought they would lead separate lives. Unexpectedly, her husband suddenly proposed they should be a real couple. But he didn't give Shelley his door password when she moved to his apartment. Besides, Shelley sent him a message, but he treated it as harassment... Shelley Harper was speechless and thought to herself, "Mr. Layton, you must be kidding me." When Shelley wanted to return to her original position, she suddenly discovered she had growing contact with him. He always showed up when she was in need, like an umbrella holding the sky above her head. Until she was moved by his sincerity and was willing to sign Universe Inc., she found her husband was a wealthy man when she negotiated the contract. And her identity as the design guru's student was about to be exposed... There was also Shelley's family who suddenly appeared, and her elder brother who crazily spoiled her. Shelley's life suddenly became... a little happy, and more than a little!

"Be mine." On their first meeting, he forced her to be his lover. "Once I've earned enough money, I'll leave. Goodbye." She walked away gracefully with her burden. The demon Mafia king spread the word worldwide: "There is no way for you to escape." This was a game of conquest and counter-conquest, whoever fell in love first would lose, and she couldn't afford the price. The only thing she could hold onto was her own heart

Sierra always knew that Eric didn't love her as much. Their love was just a transaction. When his lover returned, he gradually stopped coming home, and Sierra stayed in the empty room, spending countless nights without him. Later on, she waited for a check and his goodbye.
When they met again, she had another man by her side. Eric said with red eyes: "Sierra, I was the one who pursued you first." "Mr. Howard, it was also you who initiated the breakup! If you want to date me again, you might have to wait in line..." The next day, Sierra received a transfer of billions of dollars along with a diamond ring attached to it. Mr. Howard knelt down on one knee and said: "Miss Adler, I would like to cut in line."

My foster mother abused me, and my stepsister was a despicable bitch who often bullied and framed me. This place was no longer a home to me; it had become a cage, a living hell!
At this moment, my biological parents found me and rescued me from hell. I had originally thought they were very poor, but the reality left me utterly astonished!
My biological parents turned out to be billionaires, and they doted on me immensely. I became a princess with a fortune worth billions. Not only that, but I also had a handsome and wealthy fiancé...
（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 "Forbidden Love," and the author's name is Olivia. You can find it by searching in the search bar.)

Some cravings are too dark to resist.
Behind closed doors, in hushed whispers and stolen glances, lies a world where love is forbidden, lust is untamed, and every touch feels like crossing the line. Forbidden Desires: A Forbidden Erotica Collection strips away innocence and plunges into the wicked realm of taboo romances, where stepfathers ruin virginal stepdaughters, stepbrothers become sinful obsessions, tutors seduce their own students, and best friends betray each other with raw, unfiltered passion.
Each story is sharp, dirty, and drenched in temptation. From secret masturbations that spiral into seduction, to forbidden hands that should never touch but do. These tales aren't for the faint of heart. They're for the hungry. Desperate. The ones who crave what society says is wrong.
You've been warned. Open this book, and surrender yourself to the sins you've always fantasized about.

Her relentless stalker proves to be an enigma far more profound once his clandestine truth is laid bare.

Arianna
My fascination with dark narratives invited more than just stories into my life – it summoned a shadow. He watches, he sends messages, and every attempt to escape his gaze crumbles as evidence vanishes. I was terrified, yet when true danger struck, threatening to steal me away, he emerged like a dark knight, snatching me from the brink. Now, I run from the very man who saved me, battling a terrifying truth: he won't let me go, and my heart struggles against the dangerous, forbidden pull he has on my soul.

Vincent
She belongs to me; it's a fundamental truth the world will soon understand. Her spirit, bright as it is, craves the very darkness within me, and I will burn the world to protect that fragile desire. Let them call me a stalker, a monster; I am her shield, her destiny. Any fool who dares to lay a hand on what is mine will learn the true meaning of pain. I've saved her, I've watched her, and now I will claim her, proving that I am the only man she truly needs, the only one who truly sees her.

WARNING Dark Stalker Romance novel | R18

Her name is Lara, and she is the epitome of beauty and luck. Whether as Miss Morris or Mrs. Avila, no matter her identity, she belongs to the noblest class. Mr. Avila is cold, sophisticated, and decisive in the business world, but he is at a loss when it comes to her. He can't have her, hate her, or let her go. In this battle called love, Lara is undefeated. Everyone says she has good luck, but in reality, she is just extremely fortunate to be the one who captured Mr. Avila's heart. Love is like wine, and clearly, Avila is indulging himself in the intoxicating wine named Lara.

Five years ago, I spent the most out-of-control night of my life with a stranger.
My body burned, my mind was a blur, and all I could remember was the way he took me with relentless force.
I clutched the sheets and never even saw his face clearly.

Five years later, I return to this city with my child—only to run into that same cold, powerful man again.
He corners me, his gaze dark and burning.
“The woman that night... was it you?”
I grit my teeth and let out a cold laugh, denying everything.

If that night was never an accident, then what kind of ending is waiting for us?

Rumor had it that Trista Bryant, unable to conceive, was scorned by her mother-in-law, Marilla Myers, thus becoming an abandoned woman in the Myers family. However, six years later, Trista returned with her children, stunning everyone.
An audience asked, "Why do these two children look somewhat familiar?"
Another audience said, "They're exceptionally good-looking and intelligent... I'm sure I've seen them somewhere!"
Someone exclaimed, "Aren't they Mr. Myers' children?"
Upon hearing the news, Matthew Myers arrived and saw Trista standing beside two children. He then glanced at the children in his arms, feeling bewildered.
"Trista, don't you owe me an explanation?"
Trista remained composed and said, "Don't ask. If you really want to know, they're yours!"

Annie Hart was Brandon Ross's secret lover for five years. She thought being obedient and submissive would make him fall in love with her, but she ended up being abandoned.
"It's okay. I don't love you anymore, Mr. Ross." Annie left gracefully without asking for a penny from him. However, when she was about to marry another man, Mr. Ross suddenly found her and pressed her against the wall, kissing her wildly, "I was wrong. Please don't leave me!"

"If you ask me, I can shorten your imprisonment period. But you have to ask nicely," Sebastian Crowley said with a sly grin.
"Mr. Crowley, you should be more careful when having one-night stands with women," Vivienne Scully retorted coolly. She had promised herself that the night with Sebastian was purely for revenge. Why was he still pestering her? Did he think he had fallen in love with her?

"Becoming part of the Iverson family is a true privilege!" exclaimed the voice, filled with reverence and enthusiasm.
Elisa Brooks found herself bound to marry the disabled CEO, Simon Iverson, in lieu of her own sister. Rumors circulated that Simon was unattractive and physically impaired, but how could they be more wrong? Elisa couldn't help but notice his striking handsomeness. Despite his relentless pursuit, she yearned for nothing more than to escape this sham of a marriage at the earliest opportunity.
"Mr. Iverson, it is my sister who is your rightful fiancée. Please, allow me to be released!"
"No, it's you!"

On a stormy night, a horrific crash unfolded on the overpass. The victim was brought to the city forensic center.
My husband, Ethan, slipped on his gloves and expertly examined my shattered body, his voice detached. "Record this: Female, approximately twenty-five years old, suffered severe trauma before death."
His assistant sighed. "That's rough. Not a single family member showed up."
Just then, the assistant slid a misshapen silver band off my mud-streaked finger.
"Sir, this ring... isn't it identical to the one you keep in your desk drawer?"
With a sharp clatter, the scalpel slipped from Ethan's hand and hit the floor.

The Percy Family Heir's Scandal Leaks Again!

Cecilia Davis sat curled up in the master bedroom, scrolling through photos of Edward Percy and Jessica Brown.

The photos were taken secretly, but from a sharp angle.

Through a car window — the two of them, going at it hard.

Cecilia let out a cold laugh, tossed the photos into the trash, and felt a wave of deep exhaustion wash over her eyes.

"Do I really have to cut it?"

"Ma'am, this is Mr. Percy's request. Only if you cut your hair as short as Ms. Brown's can we clear up last night's rumors. Of course, you don't have to go — that is, if you never want to see your brother again."

Edward's assistant Leo spoke with a dismissive air, not a trace of respect in his eyes.

As if she, the so-called Mrs. Percy, was nothing more than a joke that nobody needed.

And honestly, that's exactly what she was.

Lydia's POV

"The patient in Bed 7 has been here three months now, right? Not a single family visit."

"Her husband just pays the bills and leaves. Doesn't even look at her. Poor thing."

I lay in the hospital bed, listening to two nurses whispering outside my door. My fingers rested weakly against the edge of the mattress.

Three months ago, I was diagnosed with late-stage cancer.

My husband, Sebastian Carter, came once. He stood in the doorway—didn't step inside—signed the papers with a blank expression, and never came back.

Sebastian was a writer. He locked himself in his study all day, leaving me to spend night after night alone in the living room. We lived under the same roof like strangers from different worlds.

I'd grown used to this hollow marriage. I didn't even bother calling him anymore.

Footsteps echoed outside.

I turned my head toward the door. Sebastian stood there in his familiar charcoal coat, his face expressionless.

"You came." I was surprised. I forced myself to sit up, my body weak and trembling.

Sebastian didn't answer. He walked straight to the bedside and set a document on the nightstand. "Sign it."

I picked it up. The words at the top read: 'Divorce Agreement.'

"Let Aria have the Stanford recommendation. Quinn owes her."
I stared at the family group chat—the one I wasn't in—and let out a cold laugh.
In my past life, I went completely hysterical over this, only to earn my family's disgust and a miserable death.
Now, reborn and given a second chance, I looked at the room full of guests celebrating My success, and walked straight to the microphone.
"Everyone, the party is over. I'm turning down the Stanford spot."
Under my family's stunned gazes, I dumped my champagne into the trash bin.
This rotten family? I'm done with them.

Victoria discovered that I hadn't submitted any supplemental medical expense claims for two weeks.
She assumed I had finally been disciplined and had given up what she called "the exploitative nature of the lower class."
Little did she know, my backpack held the signed divorce papers and my mother's death certificate.
As I turned to leave, I was still wearing the discounted trench coat she'd casually given me three years ago when we got married.
What she didn't know was that I, a deep-sea geology genius from MIT, willingly endured three years of her humiliation and ridiculous rules, just so my mother could stay in her conglomerate's private hospital to prolong her life.
Now, my mother has died because of unpaid bills , and even her ashes are carried by me in a cheap canvas bag.
Now that my loved one is dead, there's no need for me to continue being her obstructive dog on Wall Street. The lives she owed with those approval forms, I will settle with the collapse of her entire conglomerate empire.

A gang boss ground my treasured staff into dust with one boot. “A gutter-bred bastard from the slums, and you’re hiding something this delicate? Cripple him. Let him learn who runs this turf.”
I stared at the silver-white powder on the floor. It was the last relic my brothers left me.
I once swore these hands would be used only to save people, never to kill again.
But today, even the heavens refused to allow it.
I lifted my head slowly. The elven ears I’d kept lowered in submission rose one by one in the dark, sharp as a wolf’s.
“You’re asking me who runs this turf?”
My fist snapped out and caved in the boss’s nose.
I twisted backhanded. Three elite enforcers had their bones shattered in an instant, collapsing like sacks of rotten meat.
I grabbed the boss by the throat with one hand and hoisted his two-hundred-pound body into the air, eyes cold as if I were staring at a corpse.
“Three years ago, when I laid down the rules in this district, you didn’t even know where you were playing in the mud.”
“My things are not for you to touch.”

My name is Jack Morris, a bottom-rung janitor on the docks.
Every day, people walk all over me, and I live on moldy bread.
Until one day, an old man I saved handed me a photograph. "This is my granddaughter. She's being held at the Black Swan Casino."
That used to be my place. Ten years ago.
Her father was a brother who died in my place.
I was once the king of the underground.
And now, at the banquet celebrating the tenth anniversary of my death, they're treating that old man's granddaughter like a toy.
If my disappearance only made those animals more brazen...
Then they can finish that drink and celebrate their own deaths next.

The global freeze descended, and the apocalypse arrived right on cue. I seized all the critical supplies and evacuated first, leaving "the perfect base" behind for the two traitors who backstabbed me. They thought it was heaven, but little did they know that the entire fortress was a precision trap constructed of deception, scarcity, and despair. As the outdoor temperature plummeted to minus eighty degrees, I sat by the window, roasting venison and watching them through high-definition infrared, coldly observing as they lost their humanity in the desperate fight for a single bowl of sawdust.

After I retired, I was willing to do the dirtiest work at a small auto repair shop—just to give my sick daughter an ordinary childhood.
I endured my mother’s insults, my eldest brother’s wage cuts, my younger brother’s extortion.
But they actually joined forces to steal my daughter’s life-saving money for gambling, then sold me into an illegal mine to pay off their debts.
When the iron chain locked around my wrist, when my daughter cried in despair, the killing intent that had slept in my blood for three years finally woke up completely.
They had no idea I was once the iron-blooded God of War—commander of a million troops, the name that made enemy nations tremble.