8269 Book(s) Related to the last thing he told me laura dave

At her own birthday banquet, another woman was the star of the night.
She stood at the door and watched her husband crown his "friend" with a diamond-studded tiara — the very gift she thought was meant for her.
On the stage, he smiled tenderly. Their daughter laughed and danced. She alone was the uninvited stranger.
For six years, she gave up a brilliant research career to become his housewife — and received not a single word of gratitude.
When her heart finally went cold, she walked away, leaving nothing behind but a divorce agreement.
Then she returned to the lab — and stunned the world as a leading scientist. No more shrinking herself for anyone. She became herself again.
And the man who once treated her like air cornered her with red-rimmed eyes:
"Darling, I was wrong. Please come home."

After discovering her wolf's abnormality, Ashira went to find her mate. She was a stealer, a wolf that could provide a pup with any male, even if they were not her mate. It turned out that she was mated with Alpha Aiden! The Alpha of Prime pack, the strongest pack of the North!
She needed Aiden to claim her, to mark her! For her wolf to be accustomed to who she belongs, but Aiden doesn’t want a mate!
"Won't you claim me?" she asked.
"I'm making myself an exception to this tradition," Aiden said in a cold tone.
"You're not claiming me?!" she exclaimed.
"I'll never put my claim on you," was all he said before turning his back on her.

How will Ashira force him to mark her? Her wolf’s abnormality needed his fangs deep in her neck, and now she’s frustrated and desperate!

Read more…

This is a complete story. The first book of The Rare Wolf Series.
Each book in this series can be read as a standalone, but I highly recommend reading them in order, for the best experience.

“Spread those legs wider…Fina. I need to see every fucking inch of you.”
His voice was calm. Cold. Commanding.
And just like I always did, my body obeyed before my mind could.
Dario Severo was my father’s best friend.
Then he became his enemy.
Now he’s my husband.
Feared across the underworld and twice my age, Dario married me as the price of peace between cartels. I was supposed to be a contract. A body bound by a ring. Nothing more.
But behind closed doors, his control is intimate, deliberate, and addictive. He touches me like he’s waited years to claim what was always forbidden—and I hate how much I want it.
I was offered to him to end a war.
Instead, I became his obsession.


This book is pure age-gap erotica! Dive into your best erotic experience as Don Rio wrecks every inch of his wife; Ikkohafina, in the most dirtiest, most electrifying way!

Roxanne thought the worst part of her life was moving.
She was wrong.
On the eve of her eighteenth birthday, the truth unravels—her life has been nothing but a carefully crafted lie. The woman she called mother was never hers. The town she trusted hides things that shouldn’t exist. And the enemies chasing her have been watching for far longer than she realizes.
Because Roxanne carries something rare.
Something deadly.
Something the world believed was extinct.
A bloodline powerful enough to control any Alpha.
Any… except one.
Thrown into a world of hidden packs, ancient secrets, and ruthless enemies, Roxanne must learn to survive before her power awakens fully. But when fate ties her to the one man she cannot dominate—and cannot escape—the line between survival and destruction begins to blur.
Bound by a mate bond that could either save them… or destroy them both, Roxanne is forced to confront the one truth she can’t outrun:
In this world, love is just as deadly as power.

Sara never asked for a mate, but fate didn’t care. The moment she steps into BloodRidge Pack, the bond locks her to the one man who wants nothing to do with her.
Alpha Xenon rejects her on sight. Cold. Final. Cruel.

But the bond doesn’t break.
His wolf won’t let her go.
And when danger comes for her, the Alpha who pushed her away becomes the one who can’t stay away.

Some rejections hurt.
This one changes everything.

When I scrolled across that photo of Tyler with his arms wrapped around Rachel at 2 AM, I nearly shattered my phone against the wall. That bastard—maintaining our "just scratching an itch" arrangement while wooing her with soulmate bullshit?

With anger burning through my veins and my skin flushing hot, I stormed off to the jazz bar determined to expose him.

But who could have guessed that in the middle of this dramatic showdown, I'd discover the truth about Seth—the one secretly marking up my sheet music, the one who decked Tyler for me?

Maybe this gut-wrenching betrayal was actually the universe's twisted way of pointing me toward something real.

When the dismissal bell rings, the night resets.
I'm Zoe, a high school sophomore living on campus, isolated by my entire family and the whole school. My "crime"? I reported my own little brother for campus violence.
The first time, I died in the dark by the track. The second time, shut inside the equipment room. But every time I opened my eyes, I was dragged back to the exact same starting point. Only the number on my arm—the countdown of how many lives I had left—dropped by one.
The man in the black mask always seemed to know exactly where I’d run and where I’d hide. But what truly sent shivers down my spine was this: every single time, my mother stood just a few steps away, quietly watching me take my last breath.
Once the number hits zero, there is no coming back. What do I have to do to survive this night?

My only crime was loving a man who never appreciated me.
…………..
Amelia, the cherished heiress to the billion-dollar Dynamic Hair empire, thought marrying the school's hockey captain, Draven Hilton, was the beginning of her happily ever after. Instead, he forced her to keep their marriage a secret until graduation, refused to acknowledge her in public, humiliated her at every turn, and turned the girl who loved him into the woman who regretted ever saying, I do.

The moment Amelia chose herself and gave her heart to another man, Draven’s best friend and rival, everything changed. The husband who once couldn't stand the sight of her suddenly refused to let her go, becoming obsessed with winning back the only woman who had ever loved him. But heartbreak is only the beginning.

Just as Amelia discovers she may finally have a way out of their marriage, she uncovers the devastating reason Draven agreed to marry her in the first place, a truth so cruel it shatters everything she believed about love, family, and betrayal.

Now, a husband consumed by regret must fight the man who healed the heart he broke... while a deadly secret threatens to destroy them all.

My family let me die. My fiancé watched. My sister smiled.
I was the real daughter, dragged from the orphanage to donate my bone marrow, then thrown away like garbage. When the monsters came for the imposter, they shielded her and left me to rot.
But death wasn’t the end. It was a deal.
I woke with a system tethered to my pulse—one that trades public admiration for the power to survive.​ And behind these hands are two identities they never suspected: the legend whose music they worship, and the ghost in the machine who owns their secrets.
They think I’m back to beg for love.
They’re wrong. I’m here to collect.
This time, I won’t just take back my music and my name. I’ll make them need me—right before I watch them lose everything.
They wanted me erased.
I’m about to become the only name that matters.

Warning: Contains strong language, smuts, abuse and some really explicit content, please read at your risk. "Let go of me…" Arabella said. She grimaced, shaking her head. "Do you think I would let you go so easily?" He questioned, then tutted. Sandro's nostrils flared as he sniffed her hair wrapped in his hands, Vanilla and Strawberry. The innocent yet naughty scent he remembered her with. "That would never happen, Cara Mia." Arabella gasped as Sandro pressed his body into hers. She moved to shove him away but he grasped her hands and pinned them above her head before pointing the gun at her temple. Arabella shut her eyes tightly as the gun cocked. She inhaled and bit her tongue whilst saying her last prayer inwardly. She wanted to run far away from him. Away from the surface of the earth if possible. But she was certain no matter how far she went, he was going to find her. ------------------------------------- Arabella's life took a u-turn after falling into her enemy's hand. She should feel nothing for him, however. He made her lose all her senses, even her clothes. At the mercy of her foe, she discovers some secrets about him and wishes to unravel more, but got what she didn't bargain for. Alessandro, an Alpha werewolf assuming the identity of a mafia Lord. He was the most wanted criminal in COOAN, and his name incites fear in all werewolves' packs. He was a man fighting his demons and needs a saviour before he drowns. After a traumatic childhood event that left him scarred, Blaze often kept to himself and trusted no one until he met Arabella, whom he believed was the perfect mate sent to him by the moon's goddess. However, she was taken. The powerful urge to save her from her...

“I want you to ruin me. To f*ck me like nothing else matters.”
Zoriana’s breath hitched, the air in her lungs turning to ice as she stared into the darkened eyes of the man pinning her against the warehouse door. Outside, the pack’s founding day celebration was a blur of music and laughter, but in the shadows, there was only the scent of rain and the dangerous heat radiating off Alpha Tristan.
“You’re mated to my brother, Zoriana,” he growled, his voice a dark, jagged rasp against her ear. His mouth brushed her pulse point, sending a shiver of pure, traitorous electricity through her blood. “Do you have any idea what I’ll do to you if I stop being a gentleman?”
Zoriana didn't care about the crown. She didn't care about the Royal bond or the destiny written in the stars. She arched her back, her nails grazing the hard muscle of his shoulders as she pulled him closer. “Then stop being a gentleman, Tristan. Show me the monster everyone says you are.”


Zoriana’s world shattered overnight when her mate’s betrayal turned her from a beloved Luna into a rogue. But she did not break. Rising from the ashes, Zoriana founded her own pack and built an empire that shook the very foundations of the shifter kingdoms.
The higher she rises, the deeper she is trapped in a web of deadly intrigues and twisted truths. Zoriana is caught between the Royal Alpha she is sworn to support and his ruthless brother—a devilish enemy who ignites a forbidden, soul-searing desire she cannot control.
In a world of poisoned blood and lethal lies, Zoriana must choose: the crown she fought for, or the man who could be her undoing?

Content Warning: Explicit Language, Graphic Violence, and Mature Sexual Themes.

Book 1- Roman
Roman has everything an alpha werewolf could want- everything except his mate.
He knows who she is, he just doesn’t know where she is.
When a chance encounter, fifteen years later, brings Aurora Jones back into his life, there's only one problem. she doesn't recognise him.
Vowing to make her his mate is easy, he just needs to make her fall in love with him again.
Keeping her safe though?
That might be a challenge

Book 2- Reaper

Reaper lost his mate the moment his second died, but he never forgot her. How could he when he was tied to her without ever having laid a finger on her? The rose inked onto his skin was a constant reminder of his mate and what he had lost.

Until single mum Bethany came crashing into his life.

One accidental meeting and Reaper gets the second chance he has always dreamed of.

But can he make it work this time? Or will the mistakes of the past come back to haunt him?

Book 3- Requiem

Requiems mate was dead.
So why does the young hacker Mae, who betrayed them all make his Dragon go crazy with the need to claim her.
Why does she smell and sound so much like his lost love?
Mae might be the only person who can help them find out who is trying to kill them but Requiem might have to risk so much more than his life to get the answers he needs. He might have to risk his already broken Heart.

Ryuk Mingyu, a woman who came from a chaotic, working class family, got a new job!

Where? At Nam Corporations, one of the big, three prestigious companies in the city!

She applied for a regular employee's position. But as if luck was on her side, she was chosen by the CEO himself to be his new secretary. This choice, however, was only the beginning of a challenging new chapter of her life.

Being handpicked by the CEO personally, she became the target of bullying by her office mates on the top floor. Especially Chun Minju, the daughter of one of Nam Corporations' biggest partners. And has the biggest crush on the CEO, Nam Jinho.

Ryuk Mingyu only wanted a stable job to support her family. But little did she know that fate brought her to Nam Jinho for a specific reason.

The only question is will she remember who he is?

Because of the strong desire to give her mother the best treatment after her stroke, Samantha was forced to accept the offer to dance for a client, Mr. MC. She is the private sexy dancer of a wealthy man.

She hasn't seen his face, not even once, because he always wears a masquerade mask when she dances in front of him. She needs to give him a good show to warm his night just by dancing.

Just watch, no touch, that's it!

Does she have the right to fight how he feels about him if their agreement ends when the woman he was supposed to marry returns?

Stolen as a child by the Finnish Mafia, Ivy grew up never knowing she was the lost daughter of Britain’s most feared crime family. When they finally find her, they welcome her home with open arms… and a plan. To secure her future—and their power—they arrange her marriage to the ruthless Don of the Italian mob.

Ivy tries to build a life inside a world she never chose. But betrayal cuts deeper than any blade when she discovers her new husband is secretly involved with her foster sister. Heartbroken and desperate to escape, Ivy runs—only to die in a tragic accident.

Then she wakes up.

She’s back on the day her parents announce her engagement. Same room. Same people. Same fate waiting to swallow her whole.

This time, Ivy has one chance to rewrite everything.
Will she break the chains of her past… or walk willingly into the nightmare that destroyed her?

Kylie hated him for being a notorious playboy. She used to hate him because he changed his girls like how he changes his clothes.

She felt sorry for the women who were made to cry and played with.

What if one day she realizes her own temptation?

What if back then she felt sorry for the girls he made cry, but this time she’s crying because of him.

Is it about love? Or is it just lust?

On our tenth anniversary, a doctor told me I had three months left.
I called Graham five times before he picked up. He was at a restaurant downtown, cutting the steak on his ex-girlfriend's plate, and he told me to stop acting like a paranoid wife.
So I never told him.
I folded the diagnosis into my coat pocket, went home, and rinsed the blood out of the sink before he walked in. Then I signed away the house, the cars, every share of the firm I helped him build. I left his ring on the coffee table, canceled the number I'd had for ten years, and checked into a hospice with nobody's name on my emergency contact line.
He thought I was throwing a tantrum. He thought I'd come crawling back the second the money ran out.
He didn't find the diagnosis until it was too late to matter.

Sapphire Black, the future Alpha Luna of the 2nd most powerful pack in the region, has never worried about meeting her mate. After all, she has beauty, intelligence, and power; she has made a name for herself and every pack knows it. But, what's she to do when she meets her mate by chance with another woman in his arms?

“Alpha do you feel that?” Asks Ron
“Yea” I growl threateningly, “surround and close in on them now!” I instantly shift and head towards the invader.
5 minutes later we reach the clearing, the invader was a wolf. A beautiful mud reddish brown wolf. It’s big but I can tell it’s a female. Standing my ground I growl indicating I want her to stand down. Instead she growls defiantly and takes a defensive stance. I was about to attack when Ron links me, “Alpha wait! She has a pup with her!”

"I, Adam Smith, Future Alpha of the white wolf pack, reject Lara as my mate and Luna."
Lara's heart shattered. She knew Adam didn't like her but she never imagined he would reject her. Yes, she was different from the werewolves. She was just a mere human and she got rejected because of her identity.
To Adam, Lara was nothing but a weak human, who he would never accept to be his Luna, he needed someone strong, someone up to his league but he never knew that he had the lost lycan princess as his mate.

The day he proposed, Atticus knelt before me, holding the Hale family's heirloom necklace.
I thought I had finally survived the ordeal.
After eight years of unrequited love, being humiliated by his sister, nitpicked by his mother, and mocked by the city's socialites for being unworthy of the Hales... Until this very moment, when he personally fastened the heirloom around my neck. Everyone saw it. I, Clara, was finally accepted by the Hale family.
Tears in my eyes, I said yes, thinking it was the happiest moment of my life.
But just days after putting on that necklace, bizarre red rashes crawled up my neck. My pale skin rotted away piece by piece, and my internal organs went into irreversible failure.
The most absurd part? The exact same day I started rotting, his dying mother miraculously cured her terminal illness, and his sister's half-destroyed face was restored to flawless perfection.
Disfigured and barely looking human, I threw myself off the Harbour Bridge—
I opened my eyes, and I was back on the day of the proposal.

In a sleek design world split between polished appearances and buried cruelty, Mara Ellison has spent years trapped behind a voice no one wanted to hear. While her family rewrites her illness and her fiancé speaks over her in the name of love, stolen records, public humiliation, and old betrayals force her to reclaim her life. Quiet but cutting, this is a story of emotional abuse, identity theft, and hard-won selfhood—framed by rain-soaked streets, hospital corridors, cold glass conference rooms, and a woman finally stepping into the light with her own voice.

The day college decisions came out, my parents bought my twin sister a Porsche.
It was my eighteenth birthday too. Nobody brought it up. I stood in the doorway in my diner uniform while the whole room sang her name.
That night the four of them went out to dinner to celebrate her. The car only sat four, so my father handed me a hundred dollars and told me to order myself something at home.
Four days later, six thousand four hundred dollars vanished from my account. Two years of washing dishes, gone to her sorority dues. My mother's name was on the account, so it wasn't even illegal.
I didn't scream and I didn't beg. I went upstairs and clicked Accept on the full ride to MIT that had been sitting in my inbox for three days.
Nobody in that house ever wanted me. So I booked a one-way ticket, cut myself out of the family photo, and left my key on the shoe rack.
I wasn't coming back. Not for graduation. Not for any of them.

Five years into living with my stepbrother Gideon, the scholarship girl he sponsored moved into our house.
To repay his "generosity," she made a habit of slipping into his bed at night. By day, she took it upon herself to "fix" my antisocial, withdrawn personality.
Three days before St. George Prep's graduation ceremony, she brought me a glass of juice wearing that nauseating sugar-sweet smile.
"You know, Charlotte, your peanut allergy is probably psychosomatic. You just need some exposure therapy. Let me help you get over it."
That night, my throat closed completely. She'd deliberately laced my drink with concentrated peanut extract.
I convulsed on the cold hardwood floor, vision tunneling as oxygen fled my lungs.
In the last second before darkness swallowed me whole, I clawed desperately toward the half-open door.
Standing in the hallway were my boyfriend Dylan and my stepbrother Gideon.
They simply watched me suffocate. Then Gideon calmly reached out and shut the door.
I died from anaphylactic shock.
Three months later, as a ghost tethered to this world, I watched her stride onto Stanford's campus. Wearing my clothes. Carrying my acceptance letter. Burning through my trust fund.
Through the crowd, I saw Gideon—my ice-cold, unreachable stepbrother—gently cradle her face and press his lips to hers.
Then I gasped awake.
I was back. Three days before graduation.

Six months ago, my parents started fostering a girl named Lila Mercer.
Six months ago, Mom repainted the guest room and strung fairy lights over the bed. My room still has the same furniture I've had since I was twelve.
Six months ago, Dad started coming home for Sunday dinner. Not for me. I'd been eating alone at the counter for years by then.
Six months ago, Mom posted a photo of the two of them at the farmers market. Caption: our family is growing. I saw it during third period and locked my phone hard enough to crack the case.
So when I picked up the family iPad tonight and a notification popped up from an app I didn't recognize, I wasn't shocked. Just tired of being right.
The app was called Beacon.

“Dad… please… help me…” I pleaded, my shattered ribs piercing my lungs, blood soaking the stretcher.
But Richard, the hospital's top surgeon and my biological father, didn't even glance at me. Instead, he rushed to the next bed.
“Don't be afraid, Chloe. I'm here,” he cooed to his stepdaughter, who merely had a tiny scratch on her arm. “Get the best equipment over here now!” he roared.
As the heart monitor flatlined and my soul left my broken body, I realized the chilling truth: in the choice between life and death, my father gladly let me die.

I once believed that if I was obedient enough, my birth family would finally love me. Instead, they gave everything to Anna, the fake heiress—my competition spot, my reputation, even my kidney.
Then I opened my eyes and returned to the year it all began.
This time, I won’t beg. I won’t yield. My achievements, my dignity, and my life belong to me.
When everyone called me vicious, Damian Sterling draped his jacket over my shoulders and asked in a low voice, “Am I an outsider?”
I leaned into him and smiled. “Of course not.”
But soon I discovered he was being slowly poisoned—and the culprit might be someone closest to him. Worse, the truth behind my death in my previous life may be darker than I ever imagined…

1

Three torturous years hauling bodies on the mortuary night shift, and I'd finally scraped together the cash for my brother Charles's heart transplant.
He just waved it off.
"My heart is fine. Mom and Dad didn't die in that gang war, either. I orchestrated the hit. You were the only casualty."
Nearby, my husband, Gerald, casually lit a cigar to deliver his own confession. "I never went bankrupt. 'Laying low' was just my excuse to avoid squeezing into that dingy funeral home dorm with you. I've been at the Long Island estate."
"I was going to punish you for another three years," Charles added, "but the stench of formaldehyde on you is nauseating. We couldn't take it anymore."
I froze, still clutching the credit card. Charles plucked the plastic from my numb fingers and shoved his phone screen in my face. A banking app stared back at me.
Balance: exactly zero.
"My name is still on the joint account," he sneered, tossing the card into the trash. "I drained it this morning. That blood money you made bagging stiffs is being handed out to street junkies as we speak. We'd never touch that filth."
Before the sheer absurdity of it could suffocate me, my parents walked in. Flanked by bodyguards, they kept their distance, eyeing me like a plague rat.
"You thought being the biological daughter gave you the right to ruthlessly bully Violet. We simply wanted to put you in your place."
"Swear you'll never cross Violet again, and you can remain a Falcone," my mother added coolly. "Otherwise, you're dead to us."
In the stifling silence that followed, my phone buzzed. A text from my oncologist.
[Mrs. Castello, the results are back. It's terminal. Do you consent to initiating the hospice and DNR protocols we discussed?]

I used to be the most envied female on the continent. Three mates: werewolf Alpha Kael, vampire lord Dorian, elven ranger Seth. All of them mine.
Then a half-elf drifter named Ayla showed up, and everything I had started belonging to her instead, one piece at a time.
Kael once pulled a fang from his own mouth to make me a necklace. The day it broke, he was too busy licking another female's cut finger to notice.
Dorian spent two weeks brewing me blood wine. Then he handed the cup straight to her, because apparently I "looked healthy enough to go without."
Seth carved me a charm from sacred elven wood. I watched her face take shape under his knife instead of mine.
They kept telling me I needed to grow up. So when a beast's poison was spreading through my body, and I blew the whistle they swore would bring them running no matter what—
No one came.
Three years later, I walked back into their world on a Siren prince's arm.
This time, they're the ones begging for my forgiveness.

My stepsister and I tumbled down the stairs together. As someone with a blood clotting disorder, my spleen ruptured—I was bleeding internally, desperate for surgery to stop it.
But my mother—the renowned chief of surgery—pulled every specialist from the ER. To consult on my stepsister's condition.
All she had was a sprained ankle. Not even a scratch. Yet mom insisted on running every test in the book. And me? Left alone on that cold floor, bleeding out, half my body already soaked in blood.
I clutched at her pants, begging her to save me. But she kicked my hand away and looked at me with pure disgust.
"Lily, are you really so desperate for a man's attention that you'd pull a cheap stunt like this? Your sister's foot is swollen—and you have the nerve to fake your death here?"
In the end, I died alone in a corner of that ignored ER.
But when they wheeled my cold body out of the morgue—and they finally learned about my clotting disorder—
That mother who claimed to hate me completely lost her mind.

It was my second year back in this house.
My name was Evelyn, the biological daughter who got lost in Central Park at seven.
During the ten years I stayed missing, I fed pigs on a remote farm in Eastern Europe. In weather that dropped to dozens below zero, I got beaten for working too slowly.
I did not get brought back until I was seventeen, covered in scars, returned to this so-called “home,” luxurious to the point of being blinding.
To be honest, every time I watched them sit on silk sofas and sip afternoon tea, then thought about the decade I spent crawling through hell, hatred made my teeth ache.
That hatred stood between us and made the house feel like an icebox. We lived under the same roof, yet we were not even as close as strangers.

First day back after the long weekend. I get a few artisan gift baskets shipped in from my family's farm: maple syrup, raw honey, smoked beef jerky, handmade jams. Top-shelf stuff, every single one. Shipping alone runs me a few hundred dollars.

After the morning meeting, I hand them out one by one. The team crowds around me, all smiles, falling over themselves saying things like "You're literally the best, Ms. Bennett" and "Oh my god, you're such an amazing boss."

They're barely out the door when I notice the conference room projector is still mirroring someone's phone. Up on the screen: a private group chat. Fifteen members.

Everyone on the team is in it.

Everyone except me.

A new message pops up: [Farm junk? Really? Preston Vance's team got $200 gift cards AND black truffle. Sloane's such a cheap ass lol]

Replies flood in. Someone photoshops a picture of me. Someone else hopes I drop dead at my desk.

To them, I'm just another boss squeezing her people dry.

Last quarter, I handed every single one of them a three-thousand-dollar cash bonus out of my own pocket. Plus a brand-new phone. Each.

Fine. If they think I'm not giving enough, I'll give them exactly what they're asking for.

Though later, when they come crawling back one by one, I find myself wondering what exactly they think begging is going to get them.

To pay off my father’s debt, I married a wheelchair-bound vampire duke’s heir.
He couldn’t hear me or answer, so I told him everything—my heartbreaks, humiliations, and deepest secrets.
I thought no one would ever know.
Then one morning, he regained his hearing and asked, “Who did you say you had a crush on last night? Say it again.”

James Johnson bought me from the black market for five million.
I went from being a mercenary to his bodyguard, and also his plaything to satisfy his desires.
Countless intimate nights gradually changed the nature of our relationship.
Until he risked his life to save me during a gang shootout.
His restrained feelings finally broke free, and he proposed to me.
But today, five years later.
Right after James took control of the Johnson Family, he quickly got engaged to Julia, the daughter of the Smith Family, the biggest arms dealer.
I confronted him, only to overhear his conversation with a friend.
"I told Sophia I'd marry her just to make her give everything for me, even die for me. After all, those brothers fighting me for the inheritance are all crazy."
His friend laughed. "But she's risked her life for you for six years. That's pretty cold."
"Doesn't matter. With her background, she was never fit to be a mafia heir's wife anyway."
I stood outside the door and let out a bitter laugh.
Back in my room, I contacted Marshall Johnson.
"I promised to keep James safe until he became head of the Johnson Family. The mission's complete now. Please give me my freedom as agreed."

On our wedding night, James moaned my sister's name while inside me.

I shoved him off in fury. He looked down me with contempt.

"You're just a replacement for Raina. Don't expect too much."

Later, a fake surveillance video pinned Raina's death on me.

I couldn't prove my innocence. James had me thrown into prison.

For three whole years, I endured abuse behind bars.

The day James picked me up, he tore off my clothes and forced himself inside me.

Afterward, he tossed a document at me. "Sign it."

Turns out David—his and Raina's son—had leukemia.

He wanted me to bear a child—only to sacrifice it to save the one he had with Raina?

I couldn't accept it.

A cold smirk crossed his handsome face. "Refuse? Then your mother's medical funding ends now."

"Your only value lies in your womb. Learn to obey."

From then on, he came to my room nightly. There was no tenderness, only brutal taking.

Then fate played its cruelest joke.

I discovered a paternity test—it proved I was David's biological mother.

Which meant... David was my son? Mine and James's?

Evelyn Vale plans weddings, memorials, and private family ceremonies for people who care too much about how grief looks on camera. She knows lighting, timing, guest flow, and the hidden machinery behind a perfect public moment.

Then one night, while sitting beside the husband who kisses her goodnight, she sees a livestream event scheduled for tomorrow: her own memorial service.

The cover uses her mourning portrait. Grant, her husband, is posed as the devastated widower. Serena, her half sister, stands beside him like a woman already rehearsing the role of replacement wife.

At first Evelyn wants it to be a mistake. Then the invoices appear. The funeral campaign is paid for. The backend record existed. Someone with internal clearance created it, deleted it, and expected Evelyn to die before the broadcast.

Julian Cross, a former livestream safety investigator disgraced by an old death case, is the first person who treats Evelyn's fear as evidence. Together they follow the countdown through funeral contracts, planted comments, medical manipulation, board pressure, platform corruption, and a hidden operator using public grief as a business model.

But Evelyn is not waiting to be rescued. She knows how to build an event. She knows where witnesses should stand, when a microphone should stay open, and how a lie collapses when the room sees the right proof at the right time.

Grant scheduled the funeral.

Evelyn hosts it better.

After three years of marriage, the first thing my husband did upon waking from his vegetative state was to humiliate me for my stepsister. I once thought that my three years of devoted care would earn me a shred of his affection, only to discover that he had always loved the woman who stole everything from me including my identity. For her sake, he forced me to leave with nothing and had me blacklisted throughout the city.

But what they didn't know was that the woman they discarded like a piece of trash would shed her apron and become a legendary racer who struck fear into the hearts of the entire racing world. When my husband's archrival extended an olive branch to me, this game of revenge began—who will ultimately be the winner?

Sienna Cole has the perfect life.

She is the girl everyone watches and nobody really knows and she has worked very hard to keep it that way.

Until Jax Reeves walks into Westfield High, He doesn't talk much neither does he even try to impress anyone. And he looks at Sienna like he can see every single thing she is hiding behind her perfect smile.

She is not interested. She says so loudly. Multiple times. To anyone who will listen.

So when her best friend Chloe asks permission to pursue him, Sienna says yes without blinking.

It is the worst decision she has ever made.

Because the moment she watches Jax look at Chloe the way Sienna secretly wanted him to look at her, something inside her snaps clean in half. Now she is lying to her boyfriend, sabotaging her best friend's relationship, and slowly falling apart in front of the only six people in the world she truly loves.

The question is will Sienna finally tell the truth before she loses everything?

I loved Julian for ten years, carving every sweat-stained day into my love for him.
He once said I shined brighter than any gold medal.
Yet in five short minutes, he handed my dream, my glory, and my whole world to a scheming transfer girl.
Betrayed, discarded, and broken on the fencing strip, I lost my first love and everything I fought for.
Until the retired cold Olympic champion stepped out of the dark midnight shadows.
He offered me hellish training and a sharp blade of revenge.
I buried my soft heart, handed over my soul, and vowed to make every traitor pay.

On the day of my prenatal checkup, I found out my husband, Caleb, was sleeping with his student.
That night, I spiked his Pinot Noir with poison. I watched him collapse, convulse, and take his agonizing last breath. Then, I dragged his body into the basement and sealed it inside an oak wine barrel.
For five years, I raised our daughter, Nora, on my own. I thought the secret would rot in the dark forever.
Until she told me: Daddy speaks to her from under the floorboards every night. His voice sounds muffled, like he’s talking through a thick blanket...

My husband handed me divorce papers at 2 AM—right after he'd had his way with me. Three years of marriage, and he never once believed I was anything but a scheming woman who trapped him. He said he wanted his real love back. I said I wanted our daughter.
He laughed and told me I couldn't afford to raise her alone.
He was right about one thing: I needed money. So I took the only job that could change everything. He showed up at the presentation as the client. When he saw my work, his face went pale. He accused me of plagiarizing a famous designer—the very genius who had saved his company years ago.
He has no idea.
That genius is me.
And he's about to find out exactly who he just let go.

“Smile, Natalie,” Callum whispered before he walked onstage.

So I smiled while he thanked another woman for the crisis plan I had written. I smiled when he pinned my grandmother’s sapphire brooch to her dress. I even smiled when his message came in, canceling our nineteenth appointment at the county clerk’s office.

Then I walked out with our unsigned marriage license papers in my purse and called the one CEO he hated most.

By the time Callum realized I wasn’t waiting anymore, I had already taken my name, my work, and my future back.

I lent my Bugatti to my secret boyfriend for clout. He repaid my trust by gifting my car to a scheming cheerleader, letting her publicly humiliate and frame me. The whole school mocked me as a poor garage keeper’s daughter, unaware I’m the hidden billionaire heiress behind the supercar. Now I’ll destroy his fake rich life and avenge every insult.

Eighty-eight times.
That was how many times I had put on a white dress, or packed my ID, heading to the registry office to marry Harrison Churchill. And eighty-eight times, I ended up in an ambulance.
The first time, it was a street drive-by. A bullet tore through my shoulder just two blocks from City Hall.
The fifteenth time, a car bomb shattered three of my ribs.
The forty-second time, a steel frame plummeted from a construction site, cracking my skull.
......And this time?
The eighty-eighth time. A massive cargo container "accidentally" slipped from a crane at the docks, crushing my car.
Maybe, it’s time to say goodbye.