7665 Book(s) Related to the beginning after the end chapter 147

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.

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.

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.'

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.

"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.

"Looking for trouble?" His gaze locked onto me, lazy yet sharp.

"Take me home," I breathed, pulse racing.

"Know the risks?" His thumb traced my wrist, sending shivers.

"I want it."

His mouth claimed mine, biting. Fingers shoved under fabric, groping. Rip – fabric gave way.

"Dripping already?" He growled, fingers circling my core. "Eager little thing."

"...Stop—"

"Stop?" He thrust two fingers deep. "Or stop there?"

I cried out. He freed himself, hot steel grinding against bare skin.

_

After three years of cold neglect in her marriage to Idris—who still pined for his ex, Raven—Vera reached her limit. A call from Raven during their first intimate moment was the final straw. Divorce was her only escape.

Seeking solace with a friend, a reckless night led her to Atlas Blackwell, the powerful CEO now leading her company. To silence his family’s demands and forge a new path, they entered a one-year contract marriage.

Now, with the contract expiring, Vera stands at a crossroads. Idris begs for forgiveness, promising change. Yet Atlas, her husband in name only, has proven himself her true anchor.

Two men. One heart. Which future will she choose?

"Those need polishing. Kit's in the bottom drawer."

Heat flooded my face. "Julian, please—"

"That's ‘Alpha’ to you." His voice was cold. "I'm waiting."

I knelt, hands shaking. The office floor was cold through my suit.

"Started believing your own press? Those Forbes interviews made you feel important?" He sipped his drink, watching me work the cloth over his shoes.

I kept my head down.

"Look at me."

I met his eyes.

"This is what you are. Not a CEO. Just a plaything on her knees." He smiled coldly.


Briar Vance was a rising star in pharmaceutical botany—until her father's gambling debts sold her to Julian Sterling, the Alpha heir who collects people like trophies. For a year, she's endured his cruelty in silence.

But when Julian forces her to kneel at his engagement party, something inside her breaks.

She flees to a dive bar, where a silver-eyed stranger makes her an offer: "Let me be your fake boyfriend. I'll make him regret ever touching you."

Briar doesn't know Lucian Kincaid is Julian's half-brother—or that he's been watching her for months, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Their fake relationship becomes dangerously real when Lucian discovers Julian is using Vance Botanicals as a front for illegal Moonborn blood trafficking.

To protect Briar and expose his father Dominic's empire, Lucian risks everything. But when an assassination attempt awakens Briar's dormant Moonborn bloodline, their fated mate bond ignites in a surge of primal instinct—and Julian realizes the woman he tried to break is destined for his greatest enemy.

Now Briar must choose: submit to the Alpha who owns her past, or fight alongside the one who offers her a future. Because in the world of wolf shifters, love isn't a weakness.

It's a declaration of war.

I thought Jon was my salvation—until I saw him kissing another woman and discovered he had destroyed my training plan with his own hands.

With an injured knee, I fought my way back onto the ice, determined to win everything I’d lost. But every time I was about to break, it was always Leon who appeared.

He was cold, dangerous, and impossible to read.

He was also my ex’s older brother.

He saved me from an alley, carried me out of danger, and warned me in that low voice, “Not competing won’t kill you either.”

I asked, “Then why do you keep saving me?”

His gray-blue eyes locked onto mine. “Because I don’t want to see you break.”

I knew I should stay away.

But on the night of a thunderstorm, when the power went out and someone knocked on my door—

Was it really him?

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.”

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.

"I reject you as my mate!" My voice rang out, shattering the heavy silence of the pack hall. Eugene clutched his chest, his face twisting in agony as the mate bond snapped. He thought I would beg? He thought I would accept his pregnant mistress while he humiliated me? Dead wrong. I watched him fall to his knees, gasping for air, but I felt no pity. But before I could collapse from the backlash, a dark, massive figure stepped out of the shadows. Alpha Arnold, the Lycan King. He scooped me up into his arms as if I weighed nothing, his chest hard against my cheek. "Put her down! She is mine!" Eugene roared, blood dripping from his lips. Arnold smirked, his eyes glowing with predatory delight. "Yours? She just rejected you, pup. She belongs to me now." As he carried me away from the hell that was my home, leaving my cheating ex screaming in the dust, I knew my life had just taken a dangerous turn.


Eugene returned after a year, bringing with him a woman who was three months pregnant. The war between the werewolves and the lycans had forced him to make a painful choice, reject his true mate, Irene. But the surprises didn’t stop there. At a peace treaty party, Irene met Arnold, the rude and arrogant lycan alpha. What shocked her even more was when Arnold boldly asked her to be his mate, a symbol of peace between their two packs. Eugene was stunned. He had never imagined his rejected mate would leave the pack. He wanted to refuse Arnold’s offer, but there was one problem: Eugene wasn’t the alpha yet, his father still held the title.

Crema, who had been proclaimed Prince Alpha's mate, took her place, promised to be his wife, and faced her destiny. She received lessons on how to adjust to the regulations of werewolf society, in addition to fitness training. On their wedding day, however, Prince Alpha publicly declared his love for Crema's cousin Janine and turned her down. Crema was mistreated, ignored, and made fun of by the public. Janine's betrayal was the greatest hurt Prince Alpha had experienced from all the ladies he had dated. Because of this brutality, Crema was compelled to leave the marriage and elope. Even though Prince Alpha looked far and wide for his bride, it was too late. A bloody scarf and a pair of shoes were the only remnants of her disappearance. He was filled with deep regret and wondered whether he could go back in time. If Crema had been honest with others sooner, his terrible death might have been avoided. Prince Alpha was shocked when twins showed up at his gate one day and claimed to be his children. The boy looked a lot like him, while the girl looked like his late wife.