309 Book(s) Related to how did turtleman die

"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 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.

I died on the day my fiancé Song Jinnian got engaged to his white moonlight, Shen Zhiyi.

Shen Zhiyi wore the evening dress designed by Song Jinnian himself, smiling sweetly as she linked her arm through his, accepting blessings from every guest in the hall.

I was at the scene of a car crash on Highway 23, half a steel rebar piercing straight through my chest. Warm blood trickled down the cold metal, pooling into a stark, glaring red pool beneath me.

I called Song Jinnian seventeen times.

He hung up instantly on the first sixteen.

On the seventeenth ring, he finally answered.

The melodic music of the banquet hall hummed in the background. His voice was low, laced with unbridled impatience: “What’s your problem now? How many times do I have to say it—marrying Zhiyi is just a formality. Can’t you act your age and quit this nonsense?”

I tried to speak, but blood froth surged up my throat, stealing my ability to form a full sentence. All I heard was the busy tone as he hung up without a second thought, echoing in the empty car, one beep at a time, shattering my last shred of hope.

Song Jinnian would never know that the girl he dismissed as a spoiled, tantrum-throwing lady was pinned to the driver’s seat by that steel rebar.

Beneath my slightly bulging abdomen lay our two-month-old unborn child.

Trembling, I let go of the phone soaked in blood. With my final ounce of strength, I dialed the funeral home.

“Hello. Near Highway 23… please come collect a body from a car crash.”

A pause came from the other end, followed by the routine question:

“Who are you to the deceased?”

All around me, only the rain hammered against the car windows, and my breath grew fainter and fainter. I forced out my last words:

“I am… the deceased herself.”

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'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.

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???

"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.

Salem pairs with Malik Roane, her partner, to chase leads quietly. But trust starts to crack. Malik knows more about her past than he admits.

The killer escalates victims are murdered in ways tied to specific foster kids. One was drowned in a bathtub. Another buried with dolls stuffed in their mouths.

Salem visits Dr. Ezra Kade, who helped her after a traumatic incident she can’t fully remember. He urges her to access what she’s repressed.

Meanwhile, a viral influencer, Tasha Bloom, starts releasing video clips from an anonymous source. Each one paints Salem as unstable, dangerous… possibly guilty.

Someone is watching Salem. Filming her. They know what happened in that house. And now, the world might know too

Savannah was an adorable college student. To revenge her ex-boyfriend, Savannah was boldly intended to kiss a "handsome enough" man and take a video to piss her ex off.
However, she chose Callan, the most eligible bachelor in the world.
Out of Savannah's prediction, she was teased that she had no idea what a real kiss was. Then the man even taught her in person. In a great panic, Savannah ran away.
Savannah left a deep impression on Callan. However, he never thought he would meet Savannah so soon, especially, at the... male toilet!

Warning: Mature content/ R18+ only
“Take a chance on me,” I indirectly invited him to come to my apartment even though I just met him.
Damn! The honesty in my brain cursed. It was just so wrong. However, I really hoped he would say yes and fulfill my sexual needs. He smirked, caressing my silky hair.
“Maybe I’m wasted, but this condom in my pocket doesn’t have to be,” he pecked my lips again.


In which Samantha Taylor and her best friend Trish planned to surprise Samantha’s boyfriend on the night of their first anniversary to have sex with him because he never had attempted even once to screw her but to her dismay, Miggy ditched her and didn’t show up.
Samantha decided to have fun that night and have a girl’s night out with Trish but just like her boyfriend, she couldn’t reach her too. So, she went alone to that famous nightclub in town and there she met the hottest and the most gorgeous man on earth.
She poured all her frustrations from Miggy over that stranger by having a one-night stand with him. She thought it was just like that. She thought they’d forget each other and never bumped each other’s world again after that incident.
Until she met Miggy’s best friend. Not only was Caleb Moore sinfully handsome and incredibly charming—he’s also the hot stranger she had a one-night stand with two days ago. Samantha and Caleb knew anything more than being civil with each other when Miggy was around.
But the more time they spent together, the more their connection became all-consuming and Samantha found herself forced to choose between her boyfriend and the hottest best friend of her boyfriend, Caleb.

He was her fated mate... and her father's killer.

Aria Delvin grew up haunted by loss. Her mother died giving birth, and her rogue-hunter father was slain when she was just a teen. When mysterious and alluring Connor Gareth wanders into her Pack, claiming to be a packless wolf seeking refuge, Aria finds herself drawn to him in ways she can't explain. Their connection ignites under the full moon, and their bond is sealed when they discover they are fated mates.

But Connor hides a devastating truth: he’s the Rogue Alpha responsible for her father’s death, sent to destroy her Pack from within. Torn between love and vengeance, he walks away offering Aria a cold, fake rejection rather than confess the truth.

Heartbroken and abandoned, Aria's world shatters further when she learns she's pregnant. Refusing to let her child be defined by a legacy of blood and betrayal, she raises her son in secret, with the help of her best friend and protector, Noah.

Years later, fate brings them together again in the most dangerous of places,rogue territory. As past and present collide, buried truths surface, and longheld emotions ignite. But when love is tangled in betrayal, and loyalties are tested by old wounds, can two hearts find their way back to each other?

In a world of wolves, war, and wounded hearts, can a forbidden love get a second chance... or will their past destroy them for good?

Lena Stormrider, a feisty, independent werewolf who has no interest in marrying for power, has consistently disregarded the Shadowfang pack's norms. However, everything she believed to be true about love and loyalty is destroyed by a single, intense night spent with Kai Blackthorn, the heir to the opposing Blackthorn pack. What started out as a brief moment of escape turns into a tempest that could destroy their worlds.
An unanticipated result of Lena and Kai's forbidden desire is a pregnancy that may spark conflict between two rival packs. The mystery of their connection, a love that has the power to either save or ruin them both, haunts them both. Lena must make the painful decision to either walk away and lose the one thing that has ever made her feel fully alive or risk everything—her pack, her future, and the love she has battled so hard for—in order to protect the kid she never asked for as the full moon rises.
However, the stakes are higher than anyone could have predicted. In addition to being the heir to both packs, their child—the result of this prohibited union—is a powerful force that has the ability to change the course of their planet.

A startling betrayal threatens to shatter the tenuous peace that Lena and her family have worked so hard to preserve as she fights to keep them together. The ultimate test of devotion, love, and sacrifice must be faced by Lena and Kai after the truth about their child's fate is made public. However, there is not much time left, and the last conflict might be the end of their entire existence.
Will Lena and Kai's love withstand life's trials or will the burden of their packs' history cause them to split up forever?

No names asked , no strings attached just purely .... " ,. " Carnal " , He finished up my sentence with his jaws clenched . " Such a bitch ", He added . I smirked more mischievously when I noticed that his jaws were clenching more with anger . " Precisely not all cops are annoying as you ", l chuckled.
"Don't create the beast out of me ", He growled while glaring at me. " Dammit , is the interrogation done now ? " , I rolled my eyes before removing my hand from the table then placed it on my thighs . " Hands on the table" , He commanded in an annoyed voice which made me to smile in amusement .
"He you wasting my time , l really need to go and find someone who is going to give me a good fuck ", l blurted out the words caring less about the fact that he was a cop. " Huh ! Do you think that is going to happen?", He smirked as he stood up from the chair . " Meaning? ", I asked as l watched him walk towards me .
" You ain't going to anywhere unless you tell me the names of the gangs ", He warned in a low voice as he placed his hand onto the arm of my chair . " This isn't my first time to be interrogated , so don't scare me ",. I challenged him as l turned my head to look at him . With him behind me , his face was merely inches away from mine . This made his minty and smoky breath to fill my nose
" You do smoke too ? " , I asked a bit surprised . " I do fuck too " , His response shocked made my mouth to fall open . He was damn serious because before I could reply to him, his other hand shockingly fall on top of my hand that was lying next to my crotch then made me rub myself.

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.

"Marry me before I die, and after that, I will make sure your daughter will get a new heart. Just marry me, and say 'I do' in front of my parents." - SPADE CEDRIC VASILE

To fulfill his promise to his parents, Spade was prepared to marry without the binding of so-called love, just a pure contract until his dying day. Yet, would Spade still wish for death when his heart slowly fell for his wife, who wished for nothing more than for his life to be extended? Will the heavens heed his plea to prolong his days, if only to remain with the woman who ignited his desire to live?

Six days after Alexander lost all contact, I navigated my way alone to the Nightfall Gala to find him.

The guard's expression twisted into something peculiar when he heard my purpose.

"You're saying you are looking for your mate, Prince Alexander? And what is your name?"

"I am Cecilia."

The guard let out a harsh, mocking snort. "Stop causing a scene! A blind beggar trying to pull a scam? Don't think you can just impersonate her just because you know the name of the Prince's mate."

"Everyone knows the Prince just gifted Cecilia the millennia-old Abyssal Night Crystal to celebrate her pregnancy! What the hell are you?"

Just then, the giant LED screen cut to the Gala's live broadcast.

"Allow me to formally introduce my partner, Cecilia. Furthermore, she is expecting. Our family is about to welcome a new heir." It was Alexander's voice.

"Thank you all. This is the greatest gift Alexander and I could ever receive."

The moment that sweet, timid voice echoed through the hall, a string violently snapped in my brain. A sharp ringing pierced my eardrums.

—It was the voice of my twin sister, Elena.

On my birthday, I was dragged up to the attic and assaulted by several men.
I called my parents, brother, and boyfriend for help, but they all thought I was seeking attention and ruining my sister Sophie's celebration.
"Mia, stop it. We're busy preparing for Sophie's party. If you want attention, find another way."
This was the hundredth time they'd let me down.
But there won't be a hundred and first.
Because I'm already dead.

My billionaire lover brought out a bespoke mermaid gown, declaring he would marry whoever could fit into it.
But in my past four lives, every woman who tried it on—whether an ambitious imposter or me, his true love—was brutally tortured and murdered by him.
In my fifth rebirth, the butler knocked on our door with a polite smile, "Mr. Voss says his true love is among you."
Since we four women would die no matter who wore it...
We exchanged a look in the dead silence, turned our heads in perfect unison, and locked our eyes onto the only man in the room.

After Nicholas got engaged, his assistant handed me a plane ticket.

"Leave. Don’t ever show your face in Silverlight City again."

"Otherwise, Mr. Jackson has more than enough ways to ruin you."

All those years I spent by his side, I was admired by everyone, living in the spotlight.

Yet when I finally left, I was reduced to a pitiful, laughable sight.

I said, "Fine."

But that very night, the flight plunged from over thirty thousand feet in the air.

I think I'm dead.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself standing in an abandoned amusement park, and my body was sitting on that slowly turning carousel.

I was only ten years old. I don't know how I died.

Detective Sarah, the blonde officer, promised to find the truth. So I followed her, watching her peel away layer after layer of lies—

In my diary, I wrote down all my fears and all my waiting.

On the phone, Mom sent that video of me laughing.

In the autopsy report, evidence of long-term abuse filled every page.

Mom had been saving money for three years, saying she'd take me away. That afternoon she picked me up from school and said, "We're really leaving this time."

Then what happened? Why did I die at the amusement park? Why was Mom's first reaction after my death not to call the police, but to—

I thought Mom came to save me.

Until I saw the text message she sent...

The day I get diagnosed with stage four lung cancer, I can finally stop selling plasma.

For five years, I thought I was paying for the fire that killed my parents and son, left my brother disabled. Selling plasma, joining drug trials, doing the worst jobs imaginable, all to pay back a debt that wasn't even real.

The doctor says I have a few weeks left. I clutch the diagnosis report and head home to tell them.

The moment I push open the door, I see my parents in the kitchen, the ones who supposedly died in the fire. My brother, who was supposed to be in a wheelchair, stands there raising a glass, laughing with my husband.

My brother shrugs like it's nothing. "The broken leg was fake the whole time. You were the only one hurt in the fire. We just wanted to teach you a lesson, make you appreciate things."

"We were going to tell you eventually." My husband pats my shoulder. "Go apologize to Vanessa. Stop giving her a hard time."

"All the money you gave us went to Vanessa," Dad says. "That's what you get for throwing your bio-daughter status in her face."

I touch the diagnosis in my pocket. Everything was a lie. The only truth is that I'm dying.

After three years of agonizing IVF, I was forced into three abortions. The reason? My mafia in-laws’ pet bird stared at my belly and shrieked, "End it."
Even when I was carrying healthy twins, my own parents held me down and forced abortion pills down my throat. My husband—the man I once took a bullet for—watched coldly. "Listen to the bird. Abort."
Lying in a pool of blood, I finally discovered the horrific truth. There was no "sacred bird." My marriage, my ruined womb, and all the IVF tortures were actually part of a terrifying conspiracy.
On my fourth pregnancy, the bird finally decreed, "Keep it!"
As the whole family treated me like a queen and rejoiced to welcome their precious heir, I quietly walked into the operating room.
Armed with lethal evidence, I crashed their grand succession ceremony.
You want an heir? I’ll send you all to hell instead.

On the night my grandmother died, my husband Kael came home trailing blood.
His leather motorcycle jacket was soaked dark red, yet he flashed a savage grin: "I wiped the floor with those bastards tonight!"
For three years, he had treated our home as nothing more than a pit stop between reckless street races.
I’d finally had enough. "After the funeral, we're getting a divorce."
Before the words fully left my mouth, my phone rang. It was his riding partner, Lunn, his voice choking with sobs: "Sera... Kael drove off the cliff tonight. They only recovered bloody pieces of his helmet!"
But the "dead man" was standing right in front of me...

For six years, I wore Pack silver. I sold my blood. I scrubbed silver out of Pack den floors. I slept on a basement floor — all to pay off my mate's Pack debt and buy my brother's wolfsbane antidote.
Today, with the receipt finally signed, my brother looked at me and said:
"Seren, I was never poisoned. Our parents aren't dead either. The Rogue raid six years ago — I arranged it. The only wolf hurt that night was you."
My mate stepped up behind him: "I never lost my Pack rank either. I've been at the estate the whole time."
Then my parents — the ones I'd buried seven years ago — walked through the door.
The Pack physician had given me forty-eight hours left to live.
They were going to remember every single one.

My husband often made me suffer for the sake of my younger sister, even divorcing me because of her.
My parents gave all their love to my sister and neglected me.
My husband and parents even had my sister perform surgery on me.
But they didn't know that my sister had no idea how to perform surgery.
It didn't matter though, because I no longer cared.
On Christmas Day, when they were celebrating, they finally remembered me.
But I was already dead.

My parents raised me for twenty-four years. Then they found out I wasn't their biological daughter.

Their real daughter came home. She'd only been back two years. That's all it took to erase twenty-four.

When kidnappers grabbed us, I used my body as a shield. They beat me until something inside me ruptured. I was dying from internal bleeding, but no one could tell.

My parents wouldn't even look at me. "This is your fault! None of this would've happened if it weren't for you!"

"Get downstairs and apologize to your sister. If you can't, pack your things and get out."

They threw her a party at a downtown hotel while I died alone in my room.

I thought they'd be relieved. Maybe even glad. I thought they'd just move on like I never existed.

But when they finally learned the truth, they fell apart.

The day my all-powerful wife personally handed me over to the mob's basement, she was shielding my identical twin brother, furiously accusing me of destroying his ability to carry on the family line.
To compensate for my brother's "trauma," my parents stood by and did nothing. Using her influence, my wife pressured me to take his place at a black-market clinic, testing a lethal drug.
They thought I was just going to suffer some physical hardship, that after enduring these two weeks, everything would be happily resolved.
But they didn't know I had already been poisoned by my brother. I was dying.
I died in agony on the cold operating table. As my body was being gnawed and rotted by rats, they were happily vacationing by the sea.
Only when the lies were exposed did my wife kick down the hidden door. Holding my maggot-infested, decaying flesh, she wept until she vomited blood, then went mad and swallowed a bullet. My parents watched their family shattered and wept on their knees.

My brother Soren is a figure skating prodigy. Every dollar in our house, every hour, every scrap of attention — all his.
Me? I'm the kid who doesn't need to be seen.
The night before Nationals, I told my mom my stomach hurt so bad I could barely stand. She said I was making trouble. Dad told me to take a painkiller and tough it out. Then they loaded up the car and drove two hundred miles to watch Soren skate.
They didn't come home until Sunday night. By then, I'd been dead for over a day.
I called her. Again and again. She had her phone on airplane mode.
Now I'm a ghost, drifting behind their car on the highway home. They're laughing, complaining I didn't even text Soren a congratulations.
I wonder what their faces will look like when they walk through that door.

At four, they shattered both my legs. At six, they ruptured my left eardrum. At seven, they took my right eye—said I'd earn more sympathy begging blind.
After twelve years in hell, my billionaire parents finally found me.
The girl who stole my life grabbed my wrist, nails digging into my skin. "Dare take what's mine, and I'll break whatever's left of your legs."
I smiled, unclipping both prosthetics to show empty pant legs. "I don't have legs left."
She was terrified.

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT‼️
This story contains themes of BDSM, including elements of dominance and submission, bondage, name-calling kinks (such as terms like "whore"), consensual rough play, and some scenes that involve violence. If these topics could be triggering or uncomfortable for you, I strongly recommend proceeding with caution or choosing a different story.

But if you're into all this delicious chaos—welcome, and get ready for the ride of your life. Things are about to get wild. Enjoy! 😉

Why was I thinking about his lips? Was I really that starved for attention?

I couldn't tear my eyes away. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just the sheer need for something to distract me. But it wasn't just his lips. His jaw was sharp, the muscles of his neck visible beneath the fabric of his shirt. He looked like someone who could make me forget everything.

His voice broke through my thoughts. "Something wrong?"
I blinked, shaking my head, forcing my eyes to pull away from him. "No. Nothing."

I felt his gaze still on me, making me feel like he could see right through all the bullshit I was trying to wear. I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, the heartbreak, or the way he looked at me, but suddenly it didn't feel like a mistake. It felt like something I needed.

Without thinking, I stood, my body moving before my mind could catch up. My heart raced as I stepped closer to him, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. He was surprised, but I didn't care.
I grabbed his shirt, pulled him down to me, and pressed my lips to his.

His determined enough not to let her go again. So he take all his courage to say these words to her.

"Why can't it be? Why can't it be the two of us? Why can't we be lovers? Only friends?

Her psychological condition is the main reason.

Her emotion is always splitting.

The young man belongs to a wealthy clan, he is a billionaire who had a dark past unknown to the society where he belongs at present. Only the lady knew his deepest secret, his past. She played the big role in his life long time ago…

When they meet again, the memories of his past comes back to him. Then the billionaire hope that maybe at present time they can be more than just friend but then again the lady wants to say goodbye to him.

Would she stay? Or would she say goodbye?

Will can they be lovers? Or will can't be?

47 deaths.
48 iterations.
He sold his brother a death trap and called it a farm.
When the dead rose, the experiment began—and the only way out was through.

My brother Miles blames me for our parents' deaths.
So he chose to adopt the deaf Vivian instead of keeping me.
Later, I met Sullivan.
He gave me a grand confession. He chose me, resolutely.
He also said I hired someone to assault Vivian—that I didn't deserve sympathy.
Five years after being cast out of my family, a dismembered female body was found inside a carnival mascot costume.
Miles, now a police officer, led the investigation. Sullivan, now a forensic pathologist, performed the autopsy.
They saw the bloodstained hearing aid and immediately called Vivian.
"I'm fine. I just saw the news—some big case. Should we tell Sis to be careful too? What if something happens to her?"
They refused, almost in unison.
"The moment she killed our parents, she stopped being my sister."
"She was jealous of you. She did too many terrible things. If she's dead, she had it coming."
My soul hovered in the air, watching them. I laughed until I cried.
But when they found out the victim was me—
Why did they both go mad?

My husband is sleeping with my own sister. Cliché, right? I drove to Black Pine Lake to catch them, but stumbled into a brilliantly twisted murder trap instead. Now, the cops think I am a jealous, psychotic killer. Declan believes he dug the perfect grave for me. But did he?

I killed my fated mate to survive.

Beta Shax Wulfric was the pack’s most ruthless hunter, sent to drag me back in chains. So I ended him. Or I thought I did.

Months later, he finds me again. Alive. Amnesiac. And utterly convinced I’m his wife… and the child in my arms is ours.

Now the monster who once rejected and humiliated me looks at me like I’m his entire world. He touches me like I’m something precious.

If he remembers, he’ll kill me.
If he doesn’t, I might fall for him all over again.

I died—not in the way you'd expect, but slowly, painfully, while he was entangled with her.

He called her his savior, the woman who sold everything to rescue his failing empire. Little did he know, it was my money, my life's work, that he squandered.

The betrayal burned hotter than any flame, and I vowed he'd pay.

Now, he's gone—a leap from the heights he once ruled, his fall as swift as his rise.

irectly in front of me.
Only the night before, she’d been curled up in my arms, her warm fingertips brushing my collarbone, our bodies tangled in tender, loving intimacy.
Yet the toe tag fastened around her ankle was etched with cold, unflinching words: Su Wan, Female, 22. Cause of death: fatal fall from height. Time in morgue custody: 365 days.
She had been dead for an entire year.
Just what in the hell was the woman who’d gasped beneath me night after night, who’d lived beside me day in and day out for six whole months—the woman I’d called my girlfriend?

Moving into her mother’s new husband’s mansion was supposed to be a fresh start… not the beginning of her biggest temptation. Cold, powerful, and dangerously irresistible, he keeps his distance — but his eyes say everything his lips refuse to admit. Every stolen glance feels like a sin. Every accidental touch ignites a fire she can’t control. She knows it’s wrong. He knows it’s forbidden. Yet the more they try to resist, the stronger the pull becomes.

But when dark family secrets begin to surface and hidden motives threaten to tear them apart, she must decide — 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗻’𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁… 𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗸 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗿𝘂𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝗵?