118 Book(s) Related to lady agusta gregory

I drank myself into a stomach perforation, all to secure investment for Mu Jingshen's company.

As I was wheeled into the emergency room, blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. I heard a doctor shouting: "Where's the next of kin? We need a signature for surgery, now!"

My hands shaking violently, I dialed Mu Jingshen's number.
His contact was saved under "A Hubby", pinned to the very top of my contact list, just so I'd never miss a single call from him.

The call connected, and I forced out every last bit of my strength to speak, my voice weak and trembling:
"Jingshen, I need emergency surgery. Can you come sign the consent forms for me, please..."

But it wasn't his voice that came through the line. It was Shen Wanrong's, sweet and cloying: "Jiejie, Jingshen's busy giving Huanhuan a bath right now."

The sound of running water stopped.
I heard him ask who was on the phone.

Shen Wanrong spoke in a hurt, plaintive whine: "It's Jiejie... Jingshen, do you want to take the call? What if it's an emergency?"

But he just said, his voice flat and dismissive: "Ignore her. Nothing could ever be more important than being here for Huanhuan's birthday."

Huanhuan was Shen Wanrong's pet dog.

"Riccardo, please! I beg you!"
My water broke ten minutes ago. Warm liquid streamed down my legs and slowly froze into ice on the ground beneath me.
He stood on the other side of the bulletproof glass. In his eyes, there was not a trace left of the man I had once loved with all my heart.
In the Bellanona Mafia family, bloodline surpasses everything, and the hierarchy of age is an unyielding iron rule: the firstborn son shall inherit the entire underworld empire.
My sister-in-law Sofia and I were both pregnant, our due dates merely one day apart.
To make sure his elder brother’s child seized the succession right first, my husband coldly chose to sacrifice our own flesh and blood.
"My brother’s child must be born first." Riccardo’s voice came over the intercom, colder and more piercing than bitter winter wind. "This is what you owe them."
He had not only locked me inside this icy cellar. Just moments ago, his men pinned me down ruthlessly and injected a dose of medicine into my vein, solely to forcefully halt my labor.
Writhing in agony, I hugged my heavily pregnant belly tightly with both arms.
I could distinctly feel the little life inside me, once kicking and struggling relentlessly, growing fainter and fainter.
I’m sorry, my baby… Mommy is so sorry for you.

As the last stroke of the New Year bell rang,
I suddenly received a message from eight years ago:

“This is my first New Year with Zhou Guming!”
“I want to be with Zhou Guming forever!”
“I will play the piano for my whole life!”

At the same time, the news on TV was reporting:
On New Year’s Day,
my husband Zhou Guming was attending my best friend’s piano recital.

I looked down at my deformed fingers, bound by chains.
After cutting my wrist with a piece of iron I’d hidden for a long time,
I struggled to type one line:

“Lili, keep going forward. Don’t look back.”

On my daughter’s 100-day celebration, I found explicit messages between my husband and his secretary.
During our fight, he “accidentally” pushed me off the second floor, trapping me in a wheelchair forever.
He fired the secretary and cared for me personally, winning everyone’s praise and pity.
Only I knew he took secret late-night calls, his eyes full of disgust when he looked at me.
Until his mistress moved in, and my daughter screamed at me: “Just die.”
I smiled and pulled out a hidden voice recorder from my wheelchair.
Three years of silence, all for this moment.
James, your karma has come.

When the screen lit up, my heart stopped beating.
The woman twisting on the bed, breathless and flushed, was Rachel. The innocent girl we grew up with. The adopted sister I had fiercely loved and protected for over a decade.

And the hands claiming her body?
They belonged to my childhood sweetheart, Sebastian. On his finger glinted the very wedding band I had lovingly slipped onto his hand.

"I missed you so much..."
"You drive me crazy, baby..."

His hoarse moans coming through the speaker were agonizingly familiar. Those exact sweet whispers, the ones that used to make my heart flutter, now completely destroyed me.

To the outside world, we were the ultimate power couple. I ran his empire, exhausted myself to build his perfect life, while he bathed in everyone's envy. But who knew my flawless marriage was nothing but a sick, twisted lie?

Tears blurred my vision, but as the video ended, my sorrow morphed into something cold and lethal.

Sebastian thinks he is a master manipulator. He thinks he can have my loyalty while drowning in my sister’s bed.

Well, since he loves acting so much... I think it’s time I gave him a taste of my own performance.

Playtime is over. I am going to tear down his 'perfect husband' facade piece by piece, and I won't stop until I witness his total ruin.

"Call me brother," he whispered, pressing me against the wall, his erection hard against my stomach.
For twelve years, we played this dangerous game. By day, I was his obedient foster sister. By night, I was his obsession.
He never went all the way—saving me for marriage, he claimed—but he did everything else. His fingers knew every wet corner of my body. His mouth had tasted my pleasure a thousand times. He groomed me to be the perfect toy for his bed.
"You're mine, Julie. Only mine."
But then Lena came back.
Suddenly, the bedroom door was locked. Suddenly, I heard her screams of pleasure instead of mine.
He didn't touch me anymore. He looked at me with cold, dead eyes and said, "You're just a sister. Stop acting like a jealous lover."
He threw away twelve years of intimacy for a fresh body.
I packed my bags, leaving behind the lingerie he bought me, the toys we used.
When he finally realized Lena was a fake, he came running back, eyes wild, wanting to claim what he thought was still his property.
"Spread your legs for me, Julie," he begged, reaching for me.
I slapped his hand away. "Go fuck your sister, Daniel. I'm done."

Seven years of deep affection, expectations with a pregnant belly, and all I got was his betrayal in marriage and false promises. I gambled my youth and sincerity, only to end up with an absurd scam. After waking up, we owe each other nothing and will have no more ties.

My fiancé's "innocent" sister posted a photo wearing the sheer lingerie I bought for him, standing in the master bedroom of my new house. The caption read: "Finally have a place to take shelter. Thanks Lucas for the security." In the corner of her photo, my carefully chosen wedding portrait was thrown face-down on the hardwood floor.

I didn't scream or cry. I just quietly took a screenshot and dialed the number of my billionaire boss. "Mr. Allen, I'll take that overseas transfer." Since Lucas wanted to give another woman a home, I didn't want this wedding anymore.

The next day, I went to our new house. The passcode had been changed to her birthday. When I finally got in, she was sprawling on my leather sofa, demanding I leave because Lucas "owned half." I laughed, throwing the property deed right in her pale face. "Look closely at the name. You have ten minutes to pack your trash and get out, or I'm calling the cops for trespassing."

She ran away crying. I called a cleaning crew and threw out the bed, the sofa, and every single thing they had touched. Because you don't keep dead things, and in my heart, this eight-year relationship was already rotting in the grave. Will Lucas realize what he lost before it's too late?

For three years, I genuinely believed I was the luckiest woman in the world.

Until I hit play on that video.

The moment the screen lit up, my perfect reality shattered into a million jagged pieces.

The woman writhing on the bed was Amanda—the sweet, innocent girl we had both grown up with.

And the hand tracing the curve of her bare skin? It wore the platinum wedding band I had personally slipped onto Louis’s finger.

"I missed you so much..."

"You drive me fucking crazy, baby..."

Hearing my own husband's signature sweet nothings whispered to my childhood best friend gutted me completely.

Our entire social circle constantly praised us as the golden couple. But beneath the glossy surface, who could have guessed this flawless marriage was built on a mountain of sick lies?

Well, if Louis was such a brilliant actor, I figured it was time to give him a show of my own.

I was going to rip off his mask and show the entire world exactly what kind of monster my "perfect husband" truly was.

On my wedding day, instead of the romantic photo montage, I played a live video feed from the bridal suite.

The guests gasped. The screen didn't show our childhood photos. It showed my fiancé, Benjamin, pressing a woman in a white dress against the vanity.
It was my bridesmaid. My cousin. Mia.

"Benjamin, tell me," Mia giggled, wrapping her legs around his waist. "Do I look better in this white dress, or does your boring, frigid fiancée look better in her gown?"

The audio boomed through the silent ballroom.
Benjamin's voice was thick with lust. "She's a mannequin. You're my addiction. Why don't we do it right here? While she waits for me at the altar?"

My mother-in-law screamed. My father threw a glass.
But I stood there, calm. Cold.
I watched as Benjamin on the screen frantically unzipped Mia's dress, his hands roaming over her body, completely forgetting the woman waiting for him outside.

Benjamin rushed into the ballroom, realizing the silence was too heavy. He looked up at the giant screen, his face draining of color.
"Amelia! No! Turn it off! It's not what it looks like!"

I picked up the microphone.
"You're right, Benjamin. It's not what it looks like. It's exactly what it is."
I threw a folder of evidence—bank transfers, hotel receipts, printed texts—into his face.
"Mia graduated this year. You've been funding her for four. We've been together for five."

I tore off my veil and dropped it on the floor.
"The wedding is off. You two deserve each other."

Here is an adaptation crafted in the style of a bestselling contemporary Western psychological thriller or domestic drama hook, using fast-paced, high-tension American English:

For three years, I was the envy of Manhattan’s elite—the untouchable heiress with the flawless life.

My husband? The media constantly fawned over him, dubbing him "God’s gift to women" and the absolute epitome of a perfect gentleman.

Then came the video. The damn video that shattered it all.

Kneeling on the floor, wearing a thick leather collar like a pathetic stray, was the man I had loved deeply for years.

At the other end of the leash stood another woman, the stiletto of her red-soled Louboutin pressing ruthlessly into his cheek.

"Tell me, what are you?" she demanded.

"I'm Mistress Elena's dog," he whimpered. "I just want to get away from Sienna... I'm so sick of that suffocating bitch."

Every vow, every promise we ever made, instantly dissolved into a sick, twisted joke.

But instead of breaking down, I just smiled. And I hit save.

If he wanted to act like a dog so badly, I’d be more than happy to oblige. I was going to make sure he choked on that damn leash.

Five years in hell, my beloved and best friend joined hands to push me into the abyss. The savior I trusted was actually a deadly fraud. Reborn from despair, Vito came through the light. I tore apart the scumbag and the evil woman, settled all debts, broke free from the shadow, stepped into the light, and lived the rest of my life only for myself.

Louis and Olivia were lovers for years. He proposed marriage to her, and she accepted and gave her virginity to him. When he discovered that she was pregnant, he became distraught and ended the relationship.
Afterward, Louis regretted and Olivia met someone better - Denise, Louis's brother.. Denise and Olivia fell in love and got married after a month. She conceived immediately and when she delivered a set of twins. Then, Louis came up to claim the children.
Arthur, Louis' father and Denise's uncle, a widower of thirteen years fell in love with Nichole, Denise's mother, and a widow. Their marriage strengthened the bond between the two families, but it brought a lot of hatred from the members of Bailey's family, who had eyes on Nichole and wished to marry her. This led to a secret plan to eliminate him and have Nichole by his cousin, Mr. Stephen Bailey.
Louis refused to love again. He opted for surgery for memory erasure, which failed. Cassandra, who loved him unconditionally, accepted to marry him but conceived through IVF because he would not sleep with her. She named the child Olivia to make him happy, but he was not. When she got tired of the unbalanced relationship, she opted for a divorce. Would Louis' life be empty because of one wrong step?

A place of superstitions.

A place of curses.

A girl who was forced to sacrifice her life for the welfare of the village, and became a widow against her will.
Widowed? Or Married?

Ella Rosemane was satisfied with what little she and her family had. But one incongruous incident shatters everything she had and kills the spirit in her.

Stuck between being widowed and married, Ella found the curse around her was embraced by a stranger who was anything but a stranger to her.

Sharon distrusted Bryan right from the first moment she saw him but why was it always so hot whenever he was around? And why did she always feel like he could see right through her? But his arrogance was oh, so annoying...


She couldn't believe that the man looking so aloof was the one who took her to great heights of unimaginable pleasure the previous night. He must think her cheap. Why had she thought he felt the same way she did or that the night meant the same thing it did to her? 'Stupid me', she thought in shameful indignation.

Emeli Catrine is trapped in a massive debt left behind by her father. To survive, she accepts an offer to become a “contract woman” for a mysterious billionaire, not knowing that the decision will drag her into a far more complicated web of relationships.

He is Alexa Ken—cold, powerful, and full of control. He saves Emeli from debt collectors, but demands complete obedience in return. In front of him, Emeli feels like a possession that can be controlled at any time.

However, her life does not stop there.

By chance, Emeli meets her first love again, he is Aric Anderson—warm and full of care. Unlike Alexa Ken, Aric makes Emeli feel valued. He becomes an escape… as well as a new weakness she cannot avoid.

Then comes a secret admirer from her college days, he is Victor Valdes. He always appears at the wrong time. He knows more about Emeli than he should.

Unbeknownst to her, the three men are connected through a dark past. Yet none of them realize that they desire the same woman.

Emeli is trapped between three different worlds. Every choice means losing the others. Every lie she keeps brings her closer to destruction.

What will happen next?

Iris Vale has spent years hiding in plain sight, a low-level analyst at Graves Enterprises who follows one simple rule: never be noticed. But someone has been watching her every move. Lucien Graves, the ruthless and untouchable CEO of the billion-dollar empire, has orchestrated her world from the shadows for years. When he suddenly pulls her into his inner circle, assigning her directly under his command and isolating her from everyone else, Iris finds herself trapped in a web of surveillance, control, and dark desire. As she fights against his all-consuming obsession, she uncovers a connection from their shared past that Lucien has never forgotten. What begins as a battle of wills spirals into a dangerous romance where possession is everything, and escape is impossible. In a world where Lucien anticipates her every move, Iris must confront the man who claims her as his own body, soul, and secrets.

Tasha Deva was once an innocent hybrid, living quietly with her fiance, Rhett….never knowing her growing powers were threatening entire bloodlines. She was hunted, trapped, and killed before she ever learned what she truly was.
But death didn’t hold her.
Someone dragged her back to life after six months, and the forbidden resurrection twisted her soul into something darker. It was her demon that was brought back, not her. She’s no longer the girl who could be fooled or caged. Now she is manipulative, mind-controlling, dangerously magical…and her wolf form can wipe out packs.
Half demon, half-wolf…and cursed for it.
Her family turns their backs.
Her fiancé sends a pack to chase her out.
Her killers think they’re safe as she has no memories now.
But when a gentle human doctor shelters her, Tasha finds a new obsession….one she’ll burn the world to protect.
And as her memories return with nightmares and flashbacks, a chilling truth rises:
Her murder was planned by some people close to her.
Her resurrection was made to take revenge on two packs. And everyone tied to her death… is already marked.

In my last life, when the apocalypse hit, I forced more than fifty young tenants in the Silver Bay Apartments into a single fighting unit: sealed doors, rationing, rotating watches, quarantine—I bought us thirty days of safety with iron rules.
But when rescue was finally near, they dumped all their hunger and fear on me. My ex, Claire, and the gym rat Mason stirred up the crowd, beat me until I couldn’t stand, and locked me outside the door to the rooftop—leaving the horde to close in.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day before everything began.
This time, I won’t step up. I won’t save anyone. I’ll hide what I need to survive—and watch them destroy the building themselves.

I am the fearsome godfather of the Mafia.
For the woman I love, I sheathed my fangs and willingly became a despised commoner son-in-law.
In the horrific car accident, I shielded her with my own flesh and blood, and steel bars pierced through my chest.
Faced with the only life-saving machine in the entire hospital, she did not hesitate to save her lightly injured "white moonlight" brother-in-law, leaving me to die in the basement.
She thought that as long as I bled to death, she could naturally embrace perfect love.
But she didn't know—
Without my protection, her proud, century-old family wouldn't even last a month ...

I am the top medical genius from an Ivy League university.
For the woman I love, I gave up my tenured teaching position and willingly became the unseen academic ghost behind her, enduring the excruciating pain of heart failure to pave the way for her.
When my life was counting down and I was about to receive a heart transplant, she did not hesitate to use her power to give my only matching heart to my first love, who only had mild premature ventricular contractions, leaving me to die in the ICU.
She thought that once I breathed my last, she could get rid of this cumbersome burden and embrace perfect love.
But she didn't know—
Without my core clinical data to back her up, her proud "Queen of Cardiac Surgery" aura wouldn't have lasted even half a month.

In my previous life, I understood my beloved dog's feelings and foresaw the impending apocalypse due to high temperatures. I stocked up on supplies and kindly took in my aunt's family.
But after the order completely collapsed, in order to seize my house and inheritance for themselves, they even threw my dog into the scorching sun at sixty degrees Celsius.
I rushed out to save it, but they took the opportunity to lock the door from the inside and coldly watched as my dog and I died in the heat.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the eve of the apocalypse.
When my vampire relatives came to my door again to escape the summer heat, I didn't stop them. Instead, I generously gave them my old villa, which was about to be cut off from water and electricity, and moved into my underground temperature-controlled fortress with my dog.
Enjoy the last bit of air conditioning. This time, let's let you bite each other under the scorching sun over a piece of moldy dog food.

I am the Millionaire’s Nanny
I can’t resist him
But the Rule is we can only be friends...

-James bexell, who is this? -he answered as he took small steps.

Luna's boyfriend? - he heard through the line.
He stopped quickly.- Yes? Can I help you?
-Yes, Samuel Atkings. May I ask what kind of deal you have with each other that she left town without telling me? - he asked angrily.
-Listen, you idiot, I don't know what your problem is. I know about you and how you've managed to make Luna's life miserable. I don't care who you are, but don't call back, or her.
He cut the call.


Luna Scaloni's life takes an unexpected turn when she becomes involved with a mysterious but notorious millionaire, James Bexell, CEO and single father. As Luna tries to resist him, she can't help but get caught up in the whirlwind of trouble he brings. His past and present will intertwine in a romance full of conflicts from the past that will lead them to unearth the darkest and hidden side of him.

To the rest of the world, I was just a blue-collar "oil rig worker" battling the sun and storms at sea year-round.

But my true service record is locked deep in the Pentagon’s top-secret archives. Codename: "Ghost"—a specialist handling the military's deadliest black ops overseas.

The day my final mission ended, I pushed open my front door filled with anticipation, only to be greeted by a floor pooled with blood and smashed furniture.

An untouchable syndicate had beaten my wife black and blue and abducted my seven-year-old son, threatening to harvest him for the black-market organ trade.

Right now, safely holed up in a subterranean fortress, the arrogant syndicate boss is hiding behind multi-ton blast doors and dozens of hired guns, scoffing at the "cowardly" husband who only knew how to cry to the cops.

What they don't know is that, just a few minutes ago, I permanently shredded that disguise.

Let the hunt begin...

In my past life, I built an ironclad sanctuary in the zombie-infested wasteland, bleeding to keep four thousand people alive.
Yet the very people I risked everything to protect were brainwashed into overthrowing me.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back—right on the eve of that fatal rebellion.
Right now in the control room, my enemy has his arm around my wife. Fourteen rebels have their assault rifles pressed against my skull, laughing mockingly, convinced they've completely crushed this washed-up "Doomsday Tyrant."
What they don't know is that two days ago, I already emptied the bunker's entire stockpile of weapons and food.
You want "freedom" without rules? It's all yours.

I am a time traveler from the modern world.

For three years, I traveled back and forth to the wasteland. By supplying clean water and food, I elevated a lowly scavenger into a wasteland lord commanding thousands of armed men.

But just as I finally found a way to end the apocalypse, she turned around and slept with a local thug.

Together, they plotted to steal the secret of my time machine, kill me, and turn my modern world into their personal "free supermarket."

She thought she had me completely wrapped around her finger. She believed that with just a few fake tears, her stupid "delivery boy" would obediently hand over all access and wait to be slaughtered.

But after overhearing their scheme, I didn't hesitate. I returned to the modern world and smashed the time machine to pieces.

Now, let's see how long her mighty reign will last without my help.

In my past life, when the apocalypse hit, I relied on my training as an ex-Special Forces soldier to escort a group of arrogant corporate executives safely to a military base, fighting tooth and nail the entire way.

Yet, just to steal the vital supplies I had risked my life to gather and trade them for special privileges, they locked me out of the escape route the moment a zombie horde closed in.

When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn. It was the third day of our office building being surrounded by the undead.

A military rescue armored vehicle was waiting right downstairs. However, these corporate "elites" merely sneered in disgust. Still clinging to their superiority, they arrogantly demanded to stay on the 36th floor to wait for a supposedly incoming "private helicopter to a tropical island"—a rescue that I knew didn't exist.

In my previous life, I had practically begged and dragged them onto that rescue vehicle, a decision that ultimately got me killed.

This time, I just let out a cold laugh, grabbed my backpack, and boarded the armored vehicle without a single backward glance.

The building's backup generators were about to die, and the ground-floor electronic doors were on the verge of failing. Without my protection, trapped on the top floor by tens of thousands of ravenous zombies... I can't wait to see how many days these big shots manage to survive this apocalypse!

To protect my son, I spent a grueling year trapped in an underground bunker on an isolated island. Outside the heavy steel door, the scratching and snarling of the undead never ceased.

When our supplies finally ran dry, I risked my life crawling through a narrow ventilation duct to find water—only to emerge into bright sunlight. There was no apocalypse.

My wife—who had supposedly been "torn apart" by the horde—was lounging in a silk slip, sipping champagne with my head of security. And those monsters pounding on my door? Paid actors.

They had staged this entire bio-crisis just to lock me away and drive me insane, all so they could legally seize my billion-dollar empire.

Watching their smug smiles, I slipped back into the shadows. I destroyed the island's entire communication grid and emptied the only vial of a real zombie virus into their central water supply.

Since you love playing doomsday survival so much... let's make it real.

I am the chief architect of a quantum computing system valued at hundreds of billions in the real world.
For an AI test subject that I wrote myself, I was willing to conceal my identity as the creator and become her unseen, low-level assistant, even at the cost of taking a fatal blow for her.
Just as she was about to go public and reach the top of the conglomerate pyramid, she unhesitatingly pushed an "Organ Donation Agreement" in front of me, forcing me to remove a kidney to save the newly spawned "old money" NPC new love.
She thought that as long as I died on the operating table, she could kick me aside, this useless stepping stone, without any moral burden, and embrace the perfect capitalist marriage.
But she didn't know—
The entire world she exists in is just a sandbox test server on my desk.

I am the top algorithm genius on Wall Street.
When my wife's first love got into serious trouble, she didn't hesitate to cut off my daughter's medical expenses and force me to go to jail for that scumbag.
But she didn't know that without me, her multi-billion dollar empire was just an empty shell that could explode at any moment.
She could never have known that the little girl she cursed as a "bastard" and who was driven to her death by her own hands was actually her own flesh and blood, whom she thought had died at birth.
When, a few days later, I, who should have been dying in prison, suddenly arrived with short-selling capital and a top-secret paternity test... I wonder if this high and mighty queen will still be able to laugh.

In my past life , I was delivering supplies in the scorching heat of the apocalypse , only to have my ex-wife 's lover smash my head with a stick.
daughter, whom I've spoiled for sixteen years, looked at me with disgust: "Pretending to be a good girl is disgusting. Kill him and take his supplies."
When she opened her eyes again, her daughter had been reborn.
She cried and clung to my legs, begging to be taken in, all to trick me into believing she was building a shelter.
I decided to play along, spending all my savings to build her a top-of-the-line temperature-controlled fortress, and then "meticulously" teaching her the secrets of switching on the electric grid.
As the apocalypse arrives, the ex-wife and her lover launch a night raid on the high wall.
my daughter pressed the switch, trying to let her father in and kick me out the door.
The next second, with a loud "boom," the multi-million-volt high-voltage power grid was instantly activated !
The daughter collapsed in the control room, trembling : "Why is the switch upside down?!"

Marrying Axel Armand, a powerful billionaire CEO, was supposed to be the pinnacle of happiness. But everything shattered when his former lover returned to his life. The wife became nothing more than a name on a marriage certificate.
When a terrible accident nearly claimed her life, Axel chose to stay by another woman’s side. Even when a miscarriage destroyed her last hope, he remained indifferent. Behind the luxury and the title of a CEO’s wife, she endured her pain alone.
In the world of business, Axel never loses. But in marriage, he lost everything—especially the love he himself destroyed.

Felicia believed her marriage to Wilson was a perfect love story—until one day everything shattered when she discovered that her husband was having an affair with another woman. Her heart broke, and her pride was deeply wounded. In anger and desperation, Felicia made a decision she had never imagined before: to repay betrayal with betrayal.
On a night filled with overwhelming emotions and alcohol, Felicia accidentally bumped into a stranger. That unexpected encounter turned into a single night that would change her life forever.
A few weeks later, Felicia was shocked to discover that she was pregnant.
But the real shock came when she learned the man’s true identity—he was the husband of the woman who had been having an affair with Wilson, her own husband.

My marriage to Matthew was a transaction, a substitute—everything except love. When his white moonlight came back, I was abandoned, diagnosed with gastric cancer, and carrying his child. His late regret could never bring back my life, nor could it keep our unborn baby.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, I received a bouquet of red roses from my husband He Yu.

The card was filled with sweet nothings I hadn’t heard in a long time, and it invited me to dinner at Cloud Mist Restaurant.

That morning, he had called to tell me he had an emergency meeting at night and couldn’t come home.

So his so-called overtime was just a surprise for me.

I happily brought the flowers to my nose, but the next second I couldn’t stop sneezing five times in a row, my nose turning red and itchy at once. I’m severely allergic to roses, and I’d told He Yu that countless times.

I rubbed my nose and smiled awkwardly at the delivery driver: “Sorry, I’m allergic to roses. My husband must have forgotten in his rush.”

The delivery driver froze for a moment, then hurriedly pulled out a cake and another bouquet of champagne roses from his insulated box: “I’m so sorry, ma’am. This is yours. There were two orders under the same phone number—I didn’t check clearly earlier.”

Two orders, one phone number.

I stood frozen, all the blood in my body turning cold in an instant.

I closed the door, my hands shaking as I dialed Cloud Mist Restaurant, my voice trembling: “Hello, do you have any tables left for Mr. He Yu’s usual spot?”

“Sorry, miss. Mr. He booked our top-floor viewing seat a week in advance. There are no tables left for tonight.”

A chill crawled up my spine. I looked down at the stretch marks still fading on my belly, my hand unconsciously resting on my stomach—where our baby was growing.

I grabbed my coat, slammed the door shut, and took a taxi straight to Cloud Mist Restaurant.

He Yu, if you dare betray me, you can forget about keeping that CEO position!

Every July, my husband left for a business trip to France—so for seven full years of marriage, we never once got to celebrate our wedding anniversary.
This time, I flew all the way to France to surprise him, and mid-flight, I stumbled across a social media post.
My dream girl finally agreed to be with me. How do I make the frumpy, worn-out wife back home file for divorce on her own?
The OP poured out his grievances in the comment section:
When my dream girl suddenly moved abroad, I married her former best friend to keep me company through the hard times, just so I wouldn’t lose touch with her completely.
Now she’s finally said yes to being with me, and I’ve made enough to give her the lavish, privileged life she deserves.
I want my wife to find out about my affair herself so I can get a clean divorce without a fight, but she’s so painfully oblivious. I’ve come home reeking of my dream girl’s perfume on purpose, and every single July I fly here to France for our private time together, watching the lavender bloom in Provence with her. She never noticed a thing.
Perfume. July. France.
Those matching details made my fingers go numb. A deafening buzz exploded in my skull. A bone-deep chill washed over me, and I prayed with everything I had that it was all just a terrible coincidence.
Until I read the final line.
Just got a spending alert from her supplementary credit card—she bought a flight to France. I’m heading to pick up my dream girl now, might as well keep an eye out for her, just in case.
The plane touched down. When I stepped into the arrivals hall, I lifted my head almost instinctively.
There stood Shen Sinian, the man I hadn’t seen in two weeks, in a crisp, tailored suit, a bouquet of roses in his hand, locked in a passionate kiss with a woman with a stunning, willowy figure, her back to me.
He opened his eyes by chance, and through the crowd of travelers, his gaze locked directly with mine.

"Starting price for my wife—one dollar!" James announced, pointing at the dog cage where I lay curled up like a dying animal.

The crowd at the wedding erupted in laughter. "Five dollars!" "Ten!" They threw bids like trash, mocking the woman who used to be Mrs. Windsor. Lillian, wearing my stolen necklace, poked me through the bars with a metal rod. "Look at you, Aurora. You're nothing but filth." I closed my eyes, accepting my fate. My husband had sold me. My dignity was gone.

Suddenly, a cold, authoritative voice cut through the noise.

"Two hundred million."

Silence fell over the hall. Every head turned. Walking through the doors was a man radiating power—Louis Smith, the newly found heir to the Smith empire. The man I had pushed away ten years ago. James turned pale. "Mr. Smith... this is a joke..."

Louis didn't even look at him. He walked straight to the cage, his eyes burning with a terrifying mix of rage and tenderness. He ripped the lock off with his bare hands and pulled me into his arms. James tried to block him. "She's my wife! You can't just take her!"

Louis smirked, his voice dripping with ice. "Your wife? I just bought her. She's mine now."

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.”

Married for years, I caught my husband in bed with another woman.
He had nothing at all once; it was only after being with me that he became the CEO of a company and made his fortune.
I asked for a divorce, and he flew into a rage and locked me in a dog cage.
But what he never saw coming was that I had long been ready to take my revenge.

He once saw her as nothing but a cheap plaything. Four years of closeness was nothing more than “practice before marriage.”
Cast out on a snowy night, publicly humiliated, her career destroyed… She licked her wounds in silence and dialed her family’s satellite phone.
When they met again, she was the largest shareholder of the Corporation. He was forced to bend his pride and call her “Auntie” in a trembling voice.
You took away all my dignity once. Now I make you too low to reach me.

Jonathan’s way of loving was always paying in silence. After we broke up, he cleared my shopping cart, stocked up enough makeup remover to last me three years, trying his best to make up for it. But during those three years when I willingly waited for him to propose, he never said a word. Until one day, he found a small note I’d written in pencil three years ago in that wedding planning book: “It’s okay, I can wait.” He cried all night staring at that line, and the next day, he bought 17 copies of the same book. On the title page of each one, he wrote neatly: “Wait for me.” It turns out, the stupidest person takes three years just to learn to say “I love you.”

For the sake of the so-called family heir, my husband Killian is prepared to kill my child!
That day, Killian locked me in an underground cold storage at ten degrees below zero, all because there is an ironclad rule in the Vittorio family.
The first-born son shall inherit the family’s Mafia empire.
My eldest brother’s wife Ira and I got pregnant at the same time.
To ensure his elder brother’s child is born first, Killian made this insane decision.
"My brother and Ira’s child has to be born first. This is what you owe them!"
He ignored my pleas and forcibly injected me with labor-delaying medicine.
"Allowing this child to be born at all is already the greatest mercy I can grant you."
Killian said to me with undisguised disgust.
I curled up in agony on the icy concrete floor, feeling the little life in my womb fading away bit by bit, shedding tears of utter despair.
"My baby… Mommy is so sorry for you…"

Xie Yijin hated me more than anyone in this world.

He called me vicious as a scorpion, said I schemed about everything, stole all that belonged to Lin Wanwan, and destroyed the one he held dearest.

Xie Yijin shielded Lin Wanwan tightly behind him.
The eyes that once looked at me with such tenderness were now frozen over with unmelting ice.
He pointed straight at me, every word cutting like a blade:

"Shen Zhiyi, why don’t you just die?!"

I froze in place, my fingertips ice-cold.
Unconsciously, I still clutched that crumpled, yellowed candy wrapper.

He had given it to me when he was seven years old,
saying that when I grew up, he would marry me
and buy me candies for the rest of my life.

But now…
he only wanted me dead.

Here is the translation, adapted into the explosive, high-stakes style of a bestselling American domestic thriller. The pacing is sharp, and the emotional transition from shock to cold vengeance is deeply amplified:

For five years, I honestly believed I was the happiest woman alive.

Until today. The day I came home early and stood frozen just outside the balcony, listening to his phone call.

"What? Shuying, you're pregnant?" Tingshen's voice was laced with a raw, unbridled euphoria I had never once heard before. "I knew getting rid of Jiang Wan's baby back then was the right move."

My knuckles turned stark white as I death-gripped the ultrasound report in my hand.

Qin Shuying. My absolute worst rival. They had been sleeping together.

"Tingshen, are you sure she won't find out?" Shuying's sickeningly sweet voice drifted through the phone's speaker, piercing my eardrums. "If Jiang Wan ever realizes you were the one who killed her baby, she's going to raise hell."

"Relax." Tingshen laughed, his tone dripping with the kind of casual contempt reserved for swatting a fly. "She's so clueless. She honestly believes it was her own failing body. The stupid bitch even cried and apologized to me. She'd never in a million years suspect I drugged her."

My nails drove so brutally into my palms that they broke the skin.

"Besides, I finally got my hands on her core design drafts. Consider them a welcome gift for our baby. As for her shares in the company..." He paused, savoring his own smugness. "She's about to sign them all over to me anyway. So what if her old man built an empire? It's all dropping right into my lap."

The world tilted violently on its axis.

I was carrying his child again.

Just five minutes ago, before I overheard this monstrous phone call, I had been acting like a giddy fool, planning the perfect way to surprise him with the news.

My trembling hand drifted down to my lower stomach. My chest cracked open, a visceral, violent tearing of my own heart. The baby I had desperately longed for and mourned... chemically aborted by their own father, all to keep his mistress happy.

My sweet babies, I thought, the devastating sorrow rapidly freezing into sheer, icy rage. Mommy is going to make them pay for every drop of blood.

"Jump, Stella. No one wants an ugly monster like you," my mother said coldly, blocking my escape route.

Behind me was the freezing, raging river; in front of me were the people I loved most, now forcing me to die. Jennifer smirked, clutching the trophy that belonged to me. "I'll take good care of Ethan for you," she whispered. I looked at their faces—twisted, cruel, triumphant. I didn't jump to die; I jumped to be reborn. As the icy water filled my lungs, I made a pact with the devil. I will crawl back from hell, and I will drag you all down with me.

During the senior executive meeting, an intern slapped a 15-yuan McDonald's receipt right in my face.
"Vice President Xu has been embezzling company funds for personal meals! A parasite like her, who’s been fleecing the company, must be fired!"
My boyfriend of eight years looked at me with a feigned, agonized expression. "This incident has caused an abysmally bad impact. You will be suspended pending an internal investigation."
I stared at his hand wrapped around the intern's waist, then calmly removed my employee ID badge.
I turned to my assistant and ordered, "Freeze the five million yuan in the company's account. That's just the pocket money I casually deposited there last week."

Everyone said I was the happiest woman of the Northern Plains Clan, blessed with the purest love from Eric, the Wolf King.
Then my wolf let out a tormented howl.
Through the soul bond of fated mates, I felt it clearly—
my husband held my maid in his arms, drowning in desperate lust.
That nourishing tonic I’d drunk for three years, which I’d believed was filled with his affection, had only been brewed to keep me barren all along.
"Eric, I want you..."
"All of me is yours, my love. Bear our cub soon."
Those sweet whispers I once held dear shattered me to pieces in an instant.
The whole clan praised us as the perfect pair.
Yet who could have imagined this marriage had been built entirely on lies from the very start?
Since he is such a master of pretense, I suppose it’s time I put on a show of my own.
I will expose the true face of this flawless husband for everyone to see.

"Mommy's just a housewife! I don't want Mommy anymore—I want Aunt Jessica!"

Those words from my eight-year-old son, Jimmy, hit harder than any physical blow. I stood frozen in our living room, surrounded by the shards of the vase I’d just smashed. My husband, Robert, didn't even flinch. He just pulled Jessica closer, his hand resting possessively on her waist.

"Stop being dramatic, Scarlett," Robert sneered, his eyes cold. "Jessica is my soulmate. She understands my work. You? You just clean."

Eight years of devotion. Eight years of sacrificing my career to build this home. And now, my husband and son were looking at a stranger with the love that belonged to me.

I tried to reach for Jimmy, but he pushed me away with his small, angry fists. "Bad Mommy! Aunt Jessica buys me candy! You're just an ugly hag!"

My heart twisted until it snapped. I watched them leave for Jessica's award party—an award for a paper I practically wrote but couldn't claim. I was left alone in the silence of the house I paid for, bleeding from the glass cuts on my hands.

Later that night, at the hospital, after I’d been injured by Robert’s own hand, the nurse asked Jimmy who I was. He looked me dead in the eye and said, "I don't know her. Jessica is my mom."

That was the moment the old Scarlett died. I wiped the blood from my face, picked up my phone, and dialed my lawyer.

"Mr. Owens," I whispered, my voice trembling but resolute. "Let's redraft the agreement. I don't want custody. They can have each other."

He broke down the morgue door, his guttural scream echoing off the cold tiles as he yanked open drawer after drawer.

"Emily!"

Ethan's hands shook violently as he pulled it open. She lay inside, a white sheet draped over her face. With trembling fingers, he peeled back the fabric. Her face was paper-white, lips bloodless, her eyelashes casting faint shadows. So still.

This wasn't the Emily he knew. The Emily he knew could smile, could cry, could clumsily try to warm his frozen heart. But now, she was just a corpse. A corpse because of him.

"Cancer... stage four..." he whispered, drowning in a tidal wave of panic.

He remembered all those times she had clutched her stomach in agony, and he had mocked her. He remembered demanding she give her heart to his lover. He remembered her final silent words through the surgical glass: "I hate you."

"AHHH—!!" A raw scream tore from his throat. He slammed his fist into the metal drawer, blood blooming across his knuckles.

He collapsed beside her, pulling her stiff, freezing body into his arms. She was so light. Like holding air.

"Emily, I was wrong. I was so wrong," he choked out, crying for the first time in years. "Wake up. Hit me. Hate me. I'm begging you..."

But death is the most absolute silence of all. How far will a man go when he realizes he murdered his only salvation?

They call Alpha King Aethern a walking catastrophe—too powerful to challenge, too cold to be pitied, too cursed to be loved. Every Omega ever summoned to his palace left with a shattered soul… or never left at all.
I was supposed to be one of them.
A defective Omega, unwanted and burdened by debt. Handed over by my own family to save the clan’s name.
One night before that king should have been the end of my life.
But what happened was far worse.
He didn’t kill me.
He marked me.
His touch was not tenderness—it was command.
His gaze was not desire—it was absolute possession.
Aethern does not love.
He conquers.
He takes what he wants, and destroys it if he must.