374 Book(s) Related to how did grandpa pig die

They said fake dating never ends with real feelings. They were wrong.

For three years, I loved my childhood best friend in silence.

Brooks Hunters was my safe place, my first love... and the one person who never saw me as anything more than the girl always waiting for him. The night I finally gathered the courage to confess, he introduced me to his fiancée instead.

Heartbroken, I swore I'd move on.

Then his infuriating half-brother—the arrogant captain of the university hockey team—offered me an impossible deal.

I'll tutor him to save his hockey career.

He'll pretend to be my boyfriend for six months.

One fake relationship. One simple rule: No falling in love.

A mysterious old man’s visit flips Yvette’s world, transforming her from a chaos magnet into a magic academy student. She thought the trouble was over. She was wrong.

Fumbling into forbidden zones, Encountering a man riding a dragon, and being brutally betrayed by her closest friends, Yvette is now a target—battered, bruised, and caught in endless trouble.

Then, he arrives.

A man so breathtakingly gorgeous he radiates power. He is done hiding. Stepping into the light, he chooses to face St. Daye Academy, vowing to stand by Yvette’s side forever...

Four desperate men—Adrian Kane, Liam Cross, Ezra Black, and Damien Hart—receive identical invitations promising unimaginable wealth in just thirty days.
There’s only one condition: survive.

Taken to a secluded estate and cut off from the outside world, they are thrown into a series of escalating challenges where failure is not an option—it’s a death sentence. What begins as a high-stakes competition for money quickly turns into something far more sinister: a controlled experiment designed by a shadowy organization that rewards ruthlessness and punishes hesitation.

Alliances form. Trust shatters. And every decision comes with a cost.

As the days grow darker, the truth becomes clear—this is not a game meant to be beaten. It is a system designed to break them, reshape them, and choose only one survivor.

In the end, only one will walk away.

And survival may be the worst fate of all

Cancer was supposed to be my death sentence. Instead, it became my liberation.

I thought I had it all—wealth, status, a picture-perfect life in Greenwich's elite circles. Then came the diagnosis that would change everything: six months to live. But facing my final chapter, I uncovered a truth more devastating than any terminal illness—the man sleeping beside me was slowly killing my soul.

When you have nothing left to lose, you discover exactly how powerful you can become.

"Knock on this door over the noise one more time, and you're dead!"
Calling the cops was useless, and I was too broke to move.
Driven practically insane, I recklessly tore open the black box from the dark web—the seller promised that if I just followed the instructions, it would "eliminate the noise at the source."
Less than half an hour later, the deafening rager upstairs completely stopped.
Three mornings later, a homicide detective pounded furiously on my door.
"The father and son upstairs are dead."

I’m the only person on Earth with a clinically proven antibody capable of neutralizing this rare deadly virus.
I caught the virus when I was six. Its mortality rate was staggeringly high, and everyone thought I’d never pull through. Against all odds, I recovered entirely on my own. By some strange twist of biology, my body made the world’s sole antibody that could fight this virus off.
Once I turned eighteen, I signed up to donate my serum as a volunteer.
For twenty years straight, rain or shine, I showed up to donate free of charge—107 separate donations in total. Each time, I pulled a gravely ill patient back from death’s brink.
I’m no saint living to save the whole world. Every last donation was done for my mother.
Back when I was six, my father’s infidelity drove my mother to take her own life. What happened was cruel beyond measure, completely unforgivable.
A fortune-teller once told me my mom’s lingering resentment ran far too deep. To free her trapped, wandering soul for good, a blood relative of hers had to finish exactly 108 acts of good deeds.
Twenty years in, only one deed remained. Just one more, and my mother’s spirit could finally rest in peace.
But when the hospital sent out an urgent emergency SOS this time around, I did something I’d never done in two decades.
I turned their request down flat.

Nineteen-year-old Iris Maxwell has always known exactly who she is: a scholarship student fighting her way through design school, devoted daughter to the adoptive parents who found her abandoned at a fire station, and fierce protector of her four younger brothers. With nothing but raw talent and relentless determination, she's determined to build a fashion empire from scratch, no connections, no trust fund, just hard work.
When Iris wins the prestigious Metropolitan Design Challenge, she catches the attention of Tony, a mysterious business student who offers to help with her startup plans. Their coffee shop meetings crackle with unspoken tension and possibility, but Tony harbours secrets of his own. As the heir to the Kennedy fortune, he's trapped between family expectations and his growing feelings for the brilliant designer who refuses to rely on anyone but herself.
Everything changes when Iris enters the Lawson competition, a design contest worth fifty thousand dollars, hosted in memory of Roxanne Lawson, an heiress who vanished twenty years ago. The missing girl shares Iris's birthday, and Tony's strange reaction to this detail hints at connections neither of them fully understands.
As Iris races to complete her collection, she must navigate the cutthroat world of high fashion, the complexities of falling for someone from a different world, and the unsettling possibility that the iris pin she was found with might be the key to a past she never knew existed. Some coincidences are too perfect to be accidents, and some secrets are too dangerous to stay buried.
A contemporary romance about ambition, identity, and the courage to claim your destiny, no matter who you were born to be.

“When you think that life cannot get better, Blake Pierce comes up with another masterpiece of thriller and mystery! This book is full of twists and the end brings a surprising revelation. I strongly recommend this book to the permanent library of any reader that enjoys a very well written thriller.”--Books and Movie Reviews, Roberto Mattos (re Almost Gone) LEFT TO DIE is book #1 in a new FBI thriller series by USA Today bestselling author Blake Pierce, whose #1 bestseller Once Gone (Book #1) (a free download) has received over 1,000 five star reviews. FBI special agent Adele Sharp is a German-and-French raised American with triple citizenship—and an invaluable asset in bringing criminals to justice as they cross American and European borders.When a serial killer case spanning three U.S. states goes cold, Adele returns to San Francisco and to the man she hopes to marry. But after a shocking twist, a new lead surfaces and Adele is dispatched to Paris, to lead an international manhunt.Adele returns to the Europe of her childhood, where familiar Parisian streets, old friends from the DGSI and her estranged father reignite her dormant obsession with solving her own mother’s murder. All the while she must hunt down the diabolical killer, must enter the dark canals of his psychotic mind to know where he will strike next—and save the next victim before it’s too late.An action-packed mystery series of international intrigue and riveting suspense, LEFT TO DIE will have you turning pages late into the night.Books #2 and #3 in the series – LEFT TO RUN and LEFT TO HIDE – are also available for preorder!

My name is Michael Carson. On the surface, I'm a small-time analyst in Dallas, but nobody knows that I'm the sole heir to a multi-billion dollar financial empire.

The father's factory was on the verge of bankruptcy, but his wife transferred the money to her mother to open a beauty clinic, saying, "Your dad's lousy factory should have gone out of business long ago."

Her father suffered a heart attack and urgently needed surgery. She then said, "He's over sixty years old, is it worth it?"

I tolerated it. Until she discovered my true identity, she immediately turned on me, threatening divorce and taking half of my assets.

At that moment, I understood—some people don't deserve kindness.

I dialed the family number I hadn't contacted in five years.

They will never forget what happened next.

At Holy Oak High, being the Top Flyer isn't just a crown.
It’s a ticket to the upper class.
Girls would pay any price to stand at the top of that pyramid.
But I didn't understand that the spotlight hid a man-eating abyss until I had to put on that blood-stained uniform.
Listen. Do you hear that scratching sound coming from inside the locker?

Three years ago, on their way to attend my graduation art exhibition, the cruise ship carrying my fiancé and my family caught fire.

Over the past three years, I downed sleeping pills countless times, desperately wanting to follow them into the afterlife. Every single time, my adopted sister, Serena, saved me, crying hysterically as she shoved her fingers down my throat to make me throw up.

"They are already gone! Harper, you can't keep living in the past. You have to live on for their sake!"

After fainting from yet another high fever and being rushed to the hospital, I was diagnosed with terminal leukemia.

The doctor said I had a month left, at most.

I refused their advice to find a bone marrow match. Clutching my family's belongings, I decided to go back to our old estate in the suburbs for one last look.

While I was walking in a daze, a little boy running wildly crashed hard into my legs.

A male voice that had haunted my dreams for years rang out from behind me. "Alistair, if you keep running off, what will you do if Mommy and Daddy don't want you anymore?"

In an instant, it felt like I had been plunged into freezing water. I froze in place.

My husband is an angel on an earthly trial. Every time he feels something for me, he endures divine punishment — like his chest is being ripped open from the inside.

But he told me he'd take that pain gladly, as long as it was for me.

He left a mark on my collarbone. Activate it when you're in danger, he said, and I'll rip through anything to get to you.

I believed him.

Then came a mission where I got grabbed by an armed fugitive gang and held in an abandoned warehouse for three straight days of torture and abuse.

No water. No sleep. The tendons in my hands and feet cut one by one.

Half-dead, I used the last of my strength to activate the mark.

And I heard him talking to his angel companion.

"Beckett, why did you give those people Demi's location? You know what they'll do to her."

He didn't even flinch. "She'll be fine. She's the Chosen One — she can't die. They were going after Macie. I didn't have a choice. Once this mission's over, I can petition to stay on earth. I'll make it up to Demi. She gets it."

So that's the price of being understanding. Dying inside a trap he built for me.

My heart just shatters. And I stop fighting.

Have you ever been treated like a stand-in for your dead sibling by your own mother? I have.

Have you ever been murdered by your own mother? I have.

My name is Aira, and today is my sister Lily's birthday. It's also the anniversary of my death—the day the washing machine became my coffin.

"Why couldn't it have been you who died?"

After four long years, my mom finally got her wish.

Three years ago, my best friend Juliana Pierce was raped and jumped from a twelve-story building. I was there. I saw everything. I know exactly who did it.

Alexander Knight—Juliana's boyfriend, brilliant scientist, the man I've secretly loved for seven years—has spent every moment since hunting for answers. He believes I'm shielding a predator. He's dedicated his life to making mine hell.

Now I'm dying of ALS, and Alexander's dragged my broken body onto his "Memory Judgment Stage" for the world to see. His new technology can rip memories straight from my brain and broadcast them as holograms.

"Tell them who killed Juliana," he shouted.

I refuse. So he cranks up the machine, letting the neural probes tear through my dying brain. My hand shatters. My body convulses. But I won't break.

Until the memories start bleeding out anyway.

And when Alexander sees the rapist's face—Completely loses his mind.

Everyone knew my twin sister wouldn't live past eighteen. So they gave her all the love, leaving me to survive in the shadows.
When I suffered a asthma attack on our birthday, my mother locked me in the basement.
"Stop faking it. Don't ruin your sister's last birthday," my mother hissed.
She thought I was throwing a tantrum for attention.
She was wrong.
I died on the cold concrete floor while they sang Happy Birthday upstairs.
Now, I am just a ghost floating in our living room. I watch my parents complain about my selfishness. I watch them make empty promises to treat me better tomorrow.
They don't know there is no tomorrow for me...

Lunar Depletion Syndrome. Seven days.
That was my death countdown. And my Alpha mate Kael was still threatening me, demanding I use the last of my life force to save my sister.
On our third anniversary, he had given me a surgical consent form and dissolution papers as gifts.
How laughable.
Three years ago he had said my eyes sparkled like stars. Three years later he wanted me to close them forever.
They all said I had finally matured, learned the spirit of sacrifice expected of an older sister. The joke was, I hadn't been moved by love.
I was just tired.
Why struggle when death was inevitable?
Rather than dying alone in the wilderness, it was better to die on the operating table and become the perfect sacrifice in their story.

That night, I was dragged into a parking lot and beaten until my hands could never hold a scalpel again.

I thought it was random. Until I heard my own brother and fiancé talking—

"Those thugs went too far, but the result works out, doesn't it? This time, the award will go to Charlotte."

Charlotte. The "poor orphan" my family adopted.

For twelve years, she stole my papers, my opportunities, my glory. And the two men I trusted most handed her everything on a silver platter.

They called me spoiled. Selfish. Difficult.

They even believed I started the fire that killed our parents twelve years ago.

But here's the truth: Charlotte started that fire. I was the one who dragged them out.

They thanked the wrong sister. For twelve years.

Now they want me dead.

Fine. Let Penelope Ashworth die.

The day I died, my sister wore the wedding dress I had always dreamed of, and married my boyfriend.
My family felt no sorrow over my disappearance.
My brother suspected I deliberately avoided blessing my sister.
My silent father believed I was malicious, unwilling to see my sister surpass me.
My mother called me ungrateful and demanded I apologize to my sister.
They didn't care if I was alive.
They were only worried that my absence would sadden my sister by denying her my blessing.

I was always the extra daughter in the Cross family.
To my parents, I was nothing more than a walking blood bank for Clara. To my husband Adrian, I was a sinner who needed to atone for her crimes.
When Adrian forced me to donate a kidney to my sister, I agreed.
Not only did I agree, I liquidated every asset I owned and transferred it all to my research lab.
They thought I was stupid, thought I was still desperate for their love.
But all I was doing was putting my affairs in order.
The night before the surgery, I coughed up blood all over the table.
Adrian sneered over the phone. "Cut the act, Evelyn. You'll do anything to dodge responsibility. You just want attention—how pathetic."
The surgery was a "success."
My sister got the kidney she'd always wanted.
And I died in the recovery room.
My soul floated above my body as I watched Adrian walk into the hospital room, that patronizing smile on his face, ready to put on his "repentant husband" act.
"Eve, I know you've been hurt. Let's start over..."
The only answer he got was a white sheet pulled over my face.

He was really eating me and started sucking my jaw down to my neck until I felt pain.
I knew the next day that area would be all purple.
He practically ripped my dress off me revealing my round breasts that jumped out of the dress, I was laughing and moaning from his contacts.
"Fucking hell, I love it..." He cooed before grabbing my left breast hard while he massaged my right breast, making me throw my head back and moan biting my lips.
"Come, please… I need you, Daddy…"I whispered.

Cassie Milans is a 19-year-old, dreamy, career-oriented young woman. She did not want to be romantically involved with any man. But on a beautiful weekend, when she went clubbing with her best friend, she met Joshua, a handsome grown divorced man who attracted her, and at the end of the night, Cassie ends up sleeping with Joshua in a night of love. Then both of them have special feelings for each other. However, at school, a guy named Mark also has a crush on Cassie. And what Cassie doesn’t know is Joshua is Mark’s father.

When will Cassie find out about the special relationship between Joshua and Mark?
When will Joshua find out his son has a crush on Cassie?
When will Mark find out that his father is in love with the same girl as him?

Imogen Mark, a simple, yet extremely hot Secretary to Kade Ricardo. She was really heartbroken to know that she would no longer work as Kade's secretary but to Hames Hendrix, a man that totally contradicted Kade's gentle and easy going personality. 
"Why do you have a problem with me?"
"I'm not Kade and I don't permit nonsense. I am your boss and you have to follow my rules, get it?"
How was Imogen going to adjust to being the secretary to this ruthless and frustrating Millionaire of a boss?

One of the hottest bachelors in town is Anders Winston. Many girls were dying just to get near to him because rumors spread so fast that he is a king in bed, but he never cared about those women, they were just playtime with him and once he caught you in his arms you'll never wish to miss a chance to be with him alone throughout the night.
He is a master chef, a billionaire, a bachelor, and a playboy, but no man is perfect, just like us. Anders Winston has his own secret too; a dirty little secret that no one has ever known about.

Her mate asked her to have another man's baby. So she chose his greatest enemy.

Storm Woods believed Marcus when he said he was infertile. She believed him when he said their future depended on her bearing another man's child. She was a fool.

Discovering his plot was a lie to frame her for infidelity so he can safely reject her as his mste without tainting his reputation, Storm turns his scheme against him. She goes to his brother, the powerful Alpha Anders, with a proposal: let me give you the heir that will crush my mate, and make me your Luna.

Anders agrees, but this new alliance is far more dangerous than she imagined. Because Anders doesn't just see a useful tool; he sees the only woman who can awaken his wolf that had gone dormant after the death of his first mate. And now that she's in his bed, he has no intention of ever letting her go.

She was her own person and knew exactly what she wanted.
He owned the shit and thought he could do anything.
She had something he wanted, but she didn't know it.
He had what she'd always dreamed of, but she had no idea how to get it.
She lied for love.
He didn't forgive anyone.
She hated him from the first time she saw him.
He tried to destroy her in every possible way.
Bárbara Novaes never imagined that her peaceful life would suddenly turn upside down, when a deathbed request would make her main objective be to enter the life of the best known CEO in the country.
Heitor Casanova has never seen a woman as persecuting and insistent as Bárbara. But it didn't cross her mind that she didn't want the same as everyone else: "him".
The bond that united them would force them both to live under the same roof, with a single common goal: to protect what they loved most.
Was it possible for mutual anger to turn into love?
Would they admit the new feelings that arose, which they were not able to accept?
And they would overcome together all the obstacles that would be created to prevent this relationship from happening???

At Blackridge University, everyone knew the golden couple.

Taylor Hastings—the fierce, scholarship student who clawed her way to becoming head cheerleader—and Rowan Hayes, the hockey captain who treated her like the center of his universe.

They were campus royalty.

Until the video leaked.

One private night.
One humiliating betrayal.
And suddenly Taylor goes from adored to destroyed overnight.

Rowan swears it was an accident.

But Taylor knows the truth after hearing the whispers from his teammates… the jokes about the bet… the countdown they made over how long it would take him to get her into bed.

Their relationship was never love.

It was a game he won.

So Taylor decides to play one of her own.

Her target?
Hunter D’laurentis—the ruthless bad boy captain of Frostwood hockey and Rowan’s biggest rival.

Hunter wants one thing: the championship that could finally free him from his father’s suffocating control.

Taylor wants revenge brutal enough to make Rowan unravel before the biggest season of his life.

Fake dating should’ve been simple.

A few staged kisses.
A few jealous headlines.
A few public appearances designed to destroy a rival captain’s focus before the championship game.

But Hunter D’laurentis touches her like she’s something worth protecting instead of ruining.

And when the line between fake and real disappears beneath flashing cameras, screaming crowds, and bruised hearts, Taylor realizes revenge was never the dangerous part.

Falling for her rival was.

"What's wrong I did with you that you have been torturing me, for God's sake leave, I will never forget your favor, please..."
She pleaded with him with teary eyes. But he grabbed her silky hair in his tight grasp and said.
"Don't show me your crocodile tears, it's not impacting me, good man inside of me died a long time ago, the man who is standing in front of you is a stone made, a deaf stone, no matter how many times you beat your head with it, you will be at loss, what's wrong my dad and I did with you? nothing....but still I am suffering, and my dad.....my dad lost his life, turning someone else life into miserable, how you people can remain happy.....?
He was not n his senses.
She can't endure anymore, so she remains silent.
Shanzal, who came to know his sister has eloped with her lover on her very marriage day. To take revenge from the man with whom his sister ran away, he kidnapped the sister of that man and torture her brutally to death.
But the reality was far from what he perceived. Later on, when he came to know about the fact he has already done more harm than any good.

A mysterious professor. A curious heart. A forbidden love that will change everything.


"Now, you'll just follow my command." As he told me, I nodded my head meekly, sitting on the desk. "Professor wants his favorite student to stand up and come to him."

As he commanded, I stood up and sauntered to him. My heartbeat was accelerating with every step I was taking toward him.

"Now remove your top for your professor, my favorite student." As he ordered, I flushed, moving my eyelashes down.

"Do it fast, Princess. I'm waiting." As he spoke, I moved my eyes up at him shyly. He pointed his finger at my top. I held the hem of my green top and pulled it over my head, gazing at his handsome face sheepishly.

"Now give it to me." As he said, I instantly gave my top to him, and he inhaled my scent from the top, closing his eyes.

"Your scent is exquisite, Princess." He whispered after opening his eyes.

He kept my top on the table. "Now this." He pointed his finger at my bra, asking me to take it off. I blushed hard before taking my hands behind me and unlocking it. This was really increasing my excitement.

As I removed it, he moved his eyes down at my twins and then up at me. "You're really beautiful, Princess." He complimented me, touching my heart.

He pulled out his hand, and I gave my bra to him. Then like this, I pulled out my jeans and undies too and gave them to him. This was arousing my desires more.

He was gazing at my body like he was gazing at the stars. "I like you like this. You are so beautiful, Princess. For me, your body is perfect from every corner."

His eyes watched me as I remained only inches from his mouth. I bit my lip, waiting to see what he would do next. His hand reached up to my face and his thumb stroked my cheek, but he didn’t move a muscle. He was giving me the power to make the first move, and it felt… amazing.
I relished in his touch for just a moment longer before slowly closing in the gap. When our lips brushed, I knew it was the right decision. It made my skin tingle and burn, pleasure clawing its way out so fast that my knees felt weak. This moment. Everything was leading up to this point.

It seemed like nothing would get out of plans for billionaire Alpha Rafe Silvius, and indeed he had the control of the world, that was until human journalist Lila came to shake his world and everything he thought he could control. Lila is her own world, and most definitely she is not going to be easy to conquer.

The Billionaire's Howl is created by Claire Wilkins, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

To set a fire, you need a spark. Lily and Cade always had one, but her brother -- Cades best friend -- kept the tinder damp. Besides, Cades a man whore. When a man is that hot, someones always going to get burned. Lily should have learned her lesson the first time she touched fire, when he left town the morning after they finally hooked up.Yet all these years later, the embers still smoldering.She's working at the local bakery, in control of the heat... until he walks back into her life. Fresh from the wildfires of Montana, Cades lost everything he held dear, and the losses left scars. They soon find that more than ever, they are better together. Their love grows, quick and hot.Despite what her brother might say, Cade needs what Lily gives him. But theres no such thing as a controlled burn.And every secret carries the risk of a backdraft.

Emma Cole, a nerd in high school and untouched all throughout her life at a community college, was abandoned by her birth parents and grew up in foster care homes all around New York. Whenever her name was mentioned, the people who knew her laughed and called her foul names, since she looked like the female version of Steve Urkel and was easy to pick on and belittle. She had no sense of style. All she wore were big dresses that hid her tiny figure underneath and glasses which didn"t do her eyes any justice. She owned one bag-- a beat-up leather she received as a gift from a spelling bee contest her freshman year in high school.

Though she went to school, she had no friends, no family, and no one to teach her about becoming a lady. Emma had done everything by herself since she was one year old-- the age she was dumped by her parents into the foster system.

At age twenty three, she lived in a very small apartment by herself. She wasn"t able to land a high-paying job to afford a good house, as of yet. Every time she applied to a vacant position she may have seen in a newspaper in the cafe, they would turn her down when she went to the interviews and the interviewers took one look at her. Appearance was more than her qualifications if she wanted to land a job as a receptionist or personal assistant at one of the big firms in New York City.

Emma decided to stop hoping for a better job and stuck with being a waitress at Carl"s Cafe.

Her hell on earth.

Carl was the manager and owner of the cafe. A grown man, forty-five years old, who had experienced all the things he had chosen to chase in his pathetic life. He was a terrible boss and treated his employees as his personal slaves with low wages. One of his nasty habits was hitting on his female employees while on the job, but he never hit on Emma. Although she was a female, she just wasn"t his type and was too unattractive to even be bothered with.

I bled to death on a cold hospital bed, my unborn child gone, all because I took a shift for my coworker.
Heaven granted me a second chance. I opened my eyes, sitting safely at my office desk. Before I could shake off the nightmare, Vanessa clicked her heels toward me.
"Claire, can you cover for me at the investor party tonight? It’s my anniversary with my boyfriend."
In my past life, I agreed, only to be locked in a private room by monsters and tortured to death. This time, I looked her in the eye. "No."
Vanessa was stunned. Because of my refusal, she missed the crucial meeting and was mercilessly fired by the director.
I thought I had escaped hell and saved her life too. But when I got home to my loving husband, I realized the true nightmare had just begun...

"Moon Goddess," I prayed. "Please—save my baby. Save us both. I'll do anything."
The knife plunged into my chest. Pain exploded—white-hot, consuming. Blood poured over my skin.
The bond with Kael flared—bright and desperate—reaching for him one last time. But he didn’t come. He was with Clarissa, believing her lies, unaware of the child we created.
The second stab tore into my stomach.
“No,” I gasped. “The baby—please. Not my baby—”
They didn’t stop.
The blade fell again and again, until I felt nothing at all. Until the world faded to gray.
As my blood soaked the snow, my final thought was a curse:
Moon Goddess—if you care for me at all, give me one more chance. I’ll make them pay.
Aria Winters, an abused omega, learns her fated mate is Alpha Kael, bound to Luna Clarissa in a loveless political marriage. One forbidden night leaves Aria pregnant with the Alpha’s true heir.
When Clarissa learns the truth, she sends three assassins to kill Aria and her unborn child. Aria dies alone in the snow.
But the Moon Goddess offers a second chance. Time rewinds—Aria returns with her memories intact, and her wolf fully awakened.
In the love triangle, no longer a broken omega, she rises with power, purpose, and vengeance in her veins.
Rebirth to Be His Luna—not for love, but for vengeance.

I ranked first and snagged the most prestigious job offer in the city. Yet, not a single person congratulated me.
Because for the past twenty years, every top student who received this offer from the medical school "committed suicide" that very night.
Reporters blocked the school gates, grinning as they asked if I planned to jump off a building or swallow a bullet. My roommate grabbed my collar, screaming curses, wishing me dead.
Too bad they all completely miscalculated. I come from a filthy rich family, I’m perfectly sane, and top psychologists have signed off that I have zero suicidal tendencies. I have no reason to die.
So, I looked straight into the live cameras and declared: "If my body is found tomorrow morning, it’s not suicide. It’s murder!"
After all, for that final exam, I turned in a blank paper.

In my past life, my husband Pietro locked me in a dark basement and tortured me to death. My only crime? I couldn't get pregnant.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the family’s arranged marriage banquet.
Pietro was an illegitimate son, desperate to secure his status through marriage. In my previous life, he chose me—the Godfather's daughter. But this time, he publicly wrapped his arm around my ambitious stepsister, Livia.
Livia had always envied my status. She craved power and desperately wanted to be the Don's wife. Seeing them together, I knew instantly: Pietro had been reborn, too.
Don Ettore laid down the law: Whoever sired a son first would inherit Castel City.
My sister thought she had just been handed a crown.
But she didn't know the truth. The barren one... was Pietro.

I was dying — and he was loving someone else.
I left.
Now he wants me back… but will I let him?

Three days after I died, the morgue called my husband Sebastian to collect my ashes.
He was kissing another woman when he hit speaker, his voice cold and dismissive: "She's dead? Cremate her. Don't call me again."
And just like that, my body was wheeled into the cremation chamber.
When he finally showed up to collect my remains, he smashed the urn on the floor and ground every fragment of my ashes into the tile with his shoe.
"Playing dead? What a pathetic stunt," he sneered. "Tell her the anniversary of my mother's death is coming up. She'd better show up at the cemetery on her knees, or even if she really is dead, I'll scatter her ashes in the sewer myself."
But he didn't know—I truly was dead.
My soul was bound to him, forced to drift at his side as he planned a lavish wedding with his adopted sister Claire—his mother's true killer.
By the time he discovered the truth and exposed Claire at the altar, I had already vanished.
He lost his mind, racing to the ocean to search for my ashes.
Never knowing that the remains he'd crushed like garbage under his shoe—the "fake ashes" he'd dismissed as part of my act—
Were all that was left of me.

The moment I saw my name on that wedding invitation, I was already dead.

On Highway 23, a steel rebar had pierced straight through my chest. I was two months pregnant.

I called my fiancé Michael seventeen times. The first sixteen, he hung up without a word. On the seventeenth, his voice dripped with impatience: "Marrying Sophia is just for show. Stop making a scene."

The man who once knelt outside my family's estate for three days and nights, swearing to love me for a lifetime—he wouldn't spare me a single second more.

With my last breath, I dialed the funeral home. "I'm calling... for myself."

Flames consumed my body. My soul drifted toward the engagement banquet that should have been mine. When the killer's phone lit up, the name on the screen was Sophia...

When he destroyed my entire family, he never once thought of me.

So now, let me watch with my own eyes as this wedding becomes their funeral.

Ryan loves me deeply—at least that's what everyone says. Seven years together, we look like the perfect couple to outsiders. But only I know he's betrayed me three times.

The first time was three years ago. His brother died saving him, leaving behind his widow Sophia—Ryan's unforgettable first love. He married her behind my back. When I found out, I completely fell apart. I have dignity. I refuse to be the other woman. I wanted to leave, but he begged on his knees. "This is just to take care of my sister-in-law. Once I find the truth about my brother's death, I'll divorce her. Then we can get married."

I believed him. I forgot that a man never lets go of a lost love he's gotten back.

The second time was at last year's company anniversary. In front of everyone, he introduced Sophia as his wife. I watched them on stage, a knife through my heart. That night he explained, "It's just for show. Once everything's over, we can be together."

I believed him again.

The third time was two weeks ago. Surveillance footage showed Ryan with Sophia entering a hotel room. I rushed to confront him, but heard her voice outside his office. "Ryan, I'm pregnant. It's your baby."

Through the crack in the door, I see him hesitate. In that instant I understand.

He's going to keep her.

He spots me and rushes out in a panic. "It was an accident! Let me explain! After she has the baby, I'll give her money and make her leave. She won't be in our lives anymore!"

In that moment, I finally wake up. There will be no future for us.

I was taking six-year-old Arabella to fit her dress for the theater's grand opening.
As we crossed the intersection, a truck suddenly lost control and T-boned our car.
When I opened my eyes again, an agonizing pain ripped through me. I opened my mouth to call out Everett's name, only to hear his hushed voice seeping through the crack in the door—
"Staging an unavoidable accident was the only way to use the emergency room as a cover for the drug trial."
"Now that Ophelia's treatment is a success, there's naturally no need for that little bastard to live."
My Arabella. She was secretly wheeled into the operating room by him, used as a human guinea pig for his mistress Delilah's daughter, who had bone cancer. Her sweet, bell-like vocal cords were cruelly carved out and transplanted into another child's throat.
In that defining moment, I realized he had never loved my daughter.
But what he didn't know—the child he just murdered with his own hands was his one and only flesh and blood.

Three years of marriage. Three pregnancies.

Every time I confirmed I was pregnant, my sister-in-law Ophelia would walk into the chapel behind the manor.

Then my in-laws would drag me to the hospital and force me to abort the healthy baby.

The night after my third miscarriage, I dragged my weakened body to follow her into the chapel.

The moment I pushed open that door, my blood ran cold.

In that instant, I finally understood why my three children had to die.

I was dragged to the stand of the MRI Memory Court by my own flesh and blood.

Their demand? To forcibly extract my kidney to keep their uremic adopted daughter alive.

A guilty verdict meant losing not just my bodily autonomy, but my freedom for the rest of my life.

Bathed in the global spotlight, my parents performed as tragic heroes, while their adopted saint cried a river of deceit.

They thought they had cornered the perfect victim, waiting for the world to send me to the slaughter.

But the moment the memory holograms ignited and reality bled through, the hunters instantly became the hunted.

“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'm the forgotten eldest son of the Cross family.
My parents see me as a walking blood bag for my brother Colin, while my wife views me as a sinner destined to spend my life atoning for my mistakes.
When Audrey pressured me to donate a kidney, I agreed.
Not only did I agree, but I also liquidated all my assets and transferred them to my lab.
They thought I was foolish, that I was still begging for their love.
In reality, I was just tying up loose ends.
The night before the surgery, I coughed up a pool of blood.
Audrey laughed coldly over the phone: "Stop the act, Evan. You just want to dodge responsibility. You'll go to any lengths for attention."
The surgery was a "success."
Colin got the kidney he'd always dreamed of.
And I died in the recovery room.
My soul floated in the air as I watched Audrey push open the hospital door, wearing a smile that dripped with pity, ready to put on a show of "redemption."
"Evan, I know you've been wronged. Let's start over..."
The only response to her was the white sheet covering my lifeless body.

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?]

My adopted sister, Adriana, hit and injured Hadley Brooks—the prized mistress of Hartwell’s mafia boss, Dario Salvatore—and fled the scene.
Don Salvatore gave us exactly three days. And so, my husband and my parents all turned their eyes to me: Go take the fall for her. You always know how to fix things.
I agreed.
What they didn't know was that on that very same day, my doctor had given me my own deadline: I had, at most, three days left to live.

I was dead, and the whole world was celebrating for my sister.

For twenty-two years, I had been the hardest-working but most invisible daughter in the Sterling family, forever living in the shadow of my gymnastics prodigy sister.

Running a high fever, I begged my family to take me to the hospital, only to hear: "Don't you DARE ruin Bella's award ceremony!"

When I was tricked into the abandoned equipment room and used my last breath to call my boyfriend while lying in a pool of blood, all I heard was: "Grace, quit the drama! Bella's accepting her award on stage!"

On stage, thunderous applause erupted as Bella lifted the "Young Gymnast of the Year" trophy.

And I drew my final breath.

When they returned home triumphant, thinking I had run away in a tantrum, they had no idea I was already dead right under their noses.

Nine months pregnant and about to give birth, my husband Zane locked me in the wine cellar.
All because his widowed business partner, Elena, was also giving birth today.
"You almost made Elena go into labor early. You need to think about what you've done."
Agonizing contractions wracked my body. I dropped to my knees, begging him, "Zane, please─the baby is coming now! He will die!"
He just shoved me down the cold stone steps, his eyes icy cold.
"Stop lying! Your due date isn't today. You'll do anything for attention, won't you?"
"Tonight, only Elena's safety matters. You'll stay here until you admit you were wrong!"
The heavy wooden door slammed shut, snuffing out the last bit of hope I had left.
Hours later, Zane was cradling Elena's newborn son, calling the maid.
"Elena had a boy. I couldn't be happier. Let my wife out—I'm willing to forgive her little tantrum today."
But on the other end of the phone, the maid was sobbing.
"Sir... your wife and the baby... they're already gone."

After hearing about my peanut allergy, my boyfriend's newly crowned campus queen added peanut extract to my signature cocktail.

Just one sip in, and my skin immediately erupted in hives. My throat started to close up rapidly.

I stumbled toward my canvas tote, pulled out my life-saving EpiPen, and yanked off the cap.

But the next second, my blood ran cold.

The emergency EpiPen had been swapped out for a tube of lipstick by my boyfriend.

Seeing my face turn purple as I collapsed onto the floor, the campus queen suddenly burst into laughter:

"Surprise! I specifically told Julian to swap it out!"

"You are such a fake. Anaphylactic shock from a single sip?"

I desperately gripped my boyfriend's cuff, letting out strained, wheezing gasps like a broken bellows:

"Julian... if you don't give me the real one... I'm really going to die!"

He peeled my fingers off him one by one and swatted my hand away in disgust, frowning slightly:

"Do you really think you're some delicate princess? It's just a drink. Are you seriously doing this?"

"Madison is right. You're just a drama queen making a scene!"

I gave up pleading for him to understand. Instead, I pressed the custom fountain pen in my pocket, triggering my old-money family's highest-tier SOS signal.