143 Book(s) Related to leo millan

I was reborn.
In my past life, for the sake of my childhood sweetheart Chiara, I rushed into a sea of fire to save her lover, but I was disfigured by strong acid. In return, I was rejected and abandoned by her, and ultimately died tragically on the street.
Reborn before the narcotics factory explosion, I coldly turned away from Chiara's pleas for help: "If it's true love, go in and die with her."
This time, I'm not a sycophant anymore; I'm going to make all those who betrayed me pay a bloody price.

Married for five years, my husband, Reid, constantly played the poverty card. He’d blame crashing company revenues, claiming we couldn't even afford to upgrade to a house with a small yard. His favorite excuse was that we had to subsidize his chronically ill, adopted sister, Vivienne.
Yet, he frequently went out late at night, his phone practically glued to his hand. I suspected he was having an affair, but I couldn't find a single shred of evidence.
So, for our fifth anniversary, I gifted him a custom leather belt with a micro-GPS tracker hidden inside.
At 2:00 AM, the tracker pinned him at a private suburban farm—while he claimed to be pulling an all-nighter at the office.
Furious, I drove out to the middle of nowhere, my head full of scenarios where I’d catch him in bed with another woman. But when I arrived, the entire farm was locked down by the police.
A grim-faced detective stopped me and asked coldly, "Ma'am, are you the family of the deceased?"

"She was the perfect target."
The sound of lips meeting, of bodies moving together, made bile rise in my throat.
"But Damien, how were you able to do it?" Jessica's voice was breathless with more than just pleasure. "You told me we could get her inheritance and the life insurance payout once the wolfsbane killed her, but I never thought you could actually poison her so thoroughly."
"Small doses of wolfsbane extract mixed into her food and drinks over months. I even convinced her that the healer's treatments were making her worse, so she'd skip doses of the antidote. Celine is so foolish and trusting, it was easy to manipulate her." Damien chuckled, clearly enjoying recounting his deception.
I felt an intense pain in my chest, yet I held onto the doorframe to prevent myself from collapsing.
"Good thing Father also helped by paying off the healer," Jessica added. "Making her believe that only a mate bond could cure her at this stage, when really, consistent antidote treatments could have saved her life. But that would have been expensive, and why waste the resources on an adopted nobody?"
"Exactly!" Damien agreed.
I could no longer take it. My heart was choking, my wolf whimpering in agony, making it difficult to breathe.


She was wounded, rejected, betrayed and killed by the people she had given her all to.
When Celine is reborn six months before her world falls apart, she is given a second chance. This time, instead of fighting alone, she makes a deal with the cursed Alpha King, a man feared as death itself.
Alpha Kade Hart has lost all hope of ever getting rid of the curse until the day a girl walks into his pack house, she had been broken to the point where there not a single warmth in her eyes except for firing screaming for revenge and right that moment he knew there was hope for him again.
But would she truly be able to break the curse for him, or his doom Will Celine be able to get her revenge before six months or end up like her previous life?

In the fictional world of Lycanwood, four packs struggle for power, each with unique strengths and fierce ambitions.
The Silverfang pack values justice, the Shadowclaw pack is known for its cunning nature, the Ravensong pack for wisdom, and the Bloodmoon pack for passion.

Becky, a Silverfang member, dreams of being accepted as a full-fledged werewolf. But when her destined mate Alpha Karl rejects her, she feels shattered.
Her rejection leads her away from the pack, and she's soon rumored to be the most powerful wolf in her generation.
This sparks ambition in Nathan Shadowclaw and Jessy Bloodmoon, who seek to exploit her power for their gain. Meanwhile, Jake Ravensong offers Becky a haven of understanding and threatens to inflame an unshared love.
Caught in a dangerous love triangle, Becky must face her demons and defy manipulative forces. Her journey is fraught with pain and the line between friend and foe blurs.

Will she discover her strength, rise against Nathan and Jessy, or succumb to love and immolate her ambition?
Enter the world of Lycanwood, where every howl echoes with peril and every moonlit night holds a secret...

Would it be a fair revenge or cheap stunt to sleep with my Ex's best friend?
.....
"Go easy there..." He stands way too close to me. I glance at him but don't object.
"Why do you care? It might serve you some purpose." I say while sipping my drink. He takes a hint and wraps his arm around my waist.
"Good point! But I don't like sloppy girls in my bed."

That one mistake and Natalie’s life became hell. Now she wants to spend her last year in school quietly with her head down. The past year bought so much drama and pain in her life, she wants to stay invisible and forget everything. Things get stirred up when his hot new neighbor joins her at school.

Jacob doesn't like to explain his lack of interest in girls (or boys) to others. Girls hitting on him now and then doesn't help his case either. He knows he is different, but not sure exactly how. Life is about figuring yourself out and it's called a Spectrum for a reason, after all. When his friends were crushing over girls at barely 12-13 years old, He thought his time would come probably a year or later. Just when he lost all his hopes, he finally meets his first crush ever at the sweet age of 17.
…
Steamy Romance - No Abuse - HEA - 18+

I am the daughter of the Alpha who once ruled this pack. They accused me of murdering my own father. They wanted my blood.
I should have died.

But the three heirs of the pack uncovered the truth. They did not kill me. They claimed me.

I am their fated mate. All three of them.

Lucien wants to command me. Dante wants to consume me. Silas swears he can resist me, yet the moment one of them marked me, everything shattered.
Now the brothers are tearing the pack apart for me.

I have one year as their Luna. One year to seduce them, destroy them, and take my revenge.

They believe they can break me. But the only ones breaking will be them.

“I do not want to stay here! Tell that to your lord!” She yelled at him. “He will take me back to Dragonsbane right now or I will bring this whole castle down!” -
Once every six hundred years, a ruling descendant of Axeris must offer up a pure breed daughter of Khione to the ancient spirits to keep the seal over the undead army of Osyron from breaking open and unleashing the wrath of the blood thirsty god upon the people of Astaroth and the other six kingdoms.
Lord Ryder’s rule falls under this year and he has his eyes set on Lyra, a pure breed descendant and princess of Dragonsbane, but there are complications when he tries to get her, she cannot remember him and he cannot offer her up if she is not in love with him.
Time is running out, the seal is very unstable and everything seems to be working against him as he is soon caught up in a whirlwind of impossibilities and forced to make a difficult choice.
There are secrets and twists as this is a tale woven into a maze of labyrinths, with each turn unlocking a new and unpredictable play out, until he is left standing against all he had ever believed in.

The night Claire Richards caught her husband cheating, she planned her revenge.

She transferred billions in hidden assets, gathered undeniable proof of his affair, and destroyed the mistress's reputation.

When Claire handed Lucas Bennett the divorce papers, he tore them to pieces.
"Divorce? Not a chance!" Lucas snapped.
But Claire only smiled. "The waiting period is over, Mr. Bennett. You're out."

Sharp, stunning, and done playing nice, Claire steps into a world dominated by two powerful men: her furious ex-husband and the cold, mysterious CEO feared by all. But this time, she's calling the shots.

Watch as a clear-headed woman takes control, turns heartbreak into strength, and brings the man who once cast her aside to his knees.

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

When they crossed paths again after years apart, everyone thought it was fate—of course they'd get back together.
But Charisse Walton only offered a wry smile.
"Not happening. I dumped him, remember? He's probably just here to settle the score."
What she didn't know... was how many times Elliot Grant had silently protected her from the shadows.
Meanwhile, Elliot scoffed, hands buried in his pockets.
"Please. She never even liked me."
What he didn't realize... was that years ago, Charisse had risked everything—even her life—for him.
Two hearts.
Two stories full of silence, sacrifice, and everything left unsaid.
And now, after all this time, the truth is about to break through.

I used to be the nation's top lock-picking expert. I saved countless lives.

But I couldn't save my own daughter.

At the dock, two children were strapped to bombs.

The girl had less time—I should've saved her first.

But my husband Damien held a knife to his throat, forcing me to save the other one first.

His illegitimate son.

I compromised.

The moment I opened the lock, the kidnapper ripped off the girl's hood.

I never expected her to be Rosie.

My five-year-old daughter.

She looked at me.

Her lips moved, forming the word "Mommy."

Then the explosion tore through everything...

"That man will be the end of you Charlotte!

Her whole life used to revolve around her family, but she was abused, treated like a slave, given away like some sacrificial lamb.

Until she met him, Damien Davenport, a ruthless man who never showed his face in society.

And now...her life will remain the same!

Content Warning.
This book is R18+
Pure sex scenes, no fade to black.
It contains contents or themes that some might find disturbing or distressing.

The Koch family is the oldest family in the Blue Star Kingdom. As the new generation heir, Chad Koch has encountered many women—some attracted to his wealth, others to his looks, but none genuinely cared for him as a person. Consequently, Chad Koch has perpetually upheld a demeanor of aloofness towards the fairer sex.
Amidst a twist of fate, Daphne emerges as the savior of Chad Koch's venerable grandfather.
Thus unfolds the tale of emotional intricacies between a haughty scion of royalty and a humble maiden of the farmlands.

"You're nothing but a replacement."

My husband said it with his eyes every time he looked through me to see her face. His mistress said it with that slow, satisfied smile. My own brother—the one I would have died for—proved it the night I saw him looking at her like she hung the moon.

I married a man who never once saw me.

I worked myself hollow for a family that used me like a tool and called it marriage. I gave up my career, my research, my dignity. I even gave up the right to be sick—because I have stage-four cancer and I haven't told a single soul.

I'm dying. And nobody knows.

But here's what they didn't count on: I'm not gone yet.

Before I go, I'm taking everything back.

Some women burn quietly until there's nothing left.

I'm done burning quietly.

Growing up, if Cecily so much as frowned, whatever I was holding would be ripped from my hands. If she coughed twice, I’d be sent to kneel out in the snow to reflect on how I had "failed to take proper care of my sister."

In adulthood, their favoritism remained unchanged—only it grew deadlier.

My father would slam his fist against the table, threatening to freeze my trust fund and kick me out of the Vance family.

My mother would stare at me with red, tearful eyes, accusing me of "stealing your sister's nutrients in the womb."

Even Declan, my husband on paper, would constantly lecture me about being "reasonable" and "compliant," trying to pressure me into signing a "Volunteer Experimental Trial Consent Form" for Cecily's sake.

An unapproved, illegal human trial.

In the past, I would have cried. I would have looked at them and asked, "When did any of you ever look at me and see a daughter?"

That was until the day I got my own medical report back.

[Terminal Congenital Heart Failure.]

Seven days left to live.

When my father threw that consent form on the table again, using my banishment as collateral; when my mother sobbed, begging me to "take the hit" for my sister; when Declan tried to coax me, promising "just cooperate, it’ll be over soon"—I finally picked up the pen.

I signed my name on an experimental trial waiver with a 90% mortality rate.

They all smiled with relief. They told me I was finally being mature.

What they didn't know was that my time was already up.

I was reborn on the exact night my guardian, Caleb, was consumed by a drug-induced rut.

This time, I didn't hesitate. I dialed his fated Luna directly. "Your Alpha is in rut. You have ten minutes to come collect him."

In my past life, I loved the Alpha who took me in. I gave him everything when he needed it most, throwing myself into the fire just to save him, even bearing his pup.

But that same night, his precious "white moon"—Selena—went out for a walk, only to be dragged away and slaughtered by rogues.

She had mind-linked him thirty-three times before she died. But he was with me, delivering our baby, and he blocked her out.

For that, my reward was a silver collar piercing my scent glands in the cold dungeons. I was forced to watch my baby die in agony, my last sight in this world being Caleb’s eyes, filled with pure, unadulterated disgust.

"If you hadn't refused to call Selena that night, if you hadn't been such a whore begging for my bed, she would never have died."

"You and this bastard pup... the world is cleaner with you both dead."

I blinked, and the nightmare shattered. I was back. Back to the exact night the aphrodisiac triggered his rut.

Kane was the undisputed tyrant of our high school, notoriously ruthless with his words.

I’d always been on the curvier side. When the new, form-fitting cheer uniforms arrived at the locker room, Kane hadn't held back his mocking laugh.

"Are you seriously going to parade around in that?" he had sneered. "Please. You look like a pig about to burst out of its casing. It's embarrassing."

I couldn’t begin to count the number of times I’d mentally broken down over Kane’s acidic remarks. But every time, I forced myself to swallow the humiliation.

Why? Because he was the state's most coveted star quarterback.

Because whenever someone else tried to give me hell, he’d step in with that fiercely impatient, undeniably protective attitude of his. That was my justification.

That was, until the eve of the State Championship.

Daisy, a nobody freshman who had barely scraped her way onto the cheer squad, took the confidential playbook our team had spent three agonizing months perfecting, and handed it straight to our biggest rivals.

Normally, Kane would have sneered and verbally shredded the culprit until there was nothing left of their dignity.

But this time? He just stepped forward, pulled a pack of tissues from the pocket of his expensive letterman jacket, tossed it at Daisy’s feet, and looked away.

"Stop crying," he said, his voice strangely subdued. "The damage is done, and tears won't fix a damn thing. Besides, your face gets all red and swollen when you cry. It's an ugly look."

The night before our mating ceremony, my Alpha boyfriend was tangled up with my brother's fiancée.

He was my brother's ride-or-die companion, and the son-in-law our pack cherished most.

My brother was devastated by this betrayal and charged toward the border that very day, never to return.

Yet everyone kept urging me to forgive them.

His comrade pleaded: "Kael knows he messed up. For the sake of all these years of brotherhood, just give him another chance."

The Elder advised: "I know you're angry, but he's now our pack's Alpha. Making things too bitter won't be good for your future either. Elara, let it go."

Even the usually fair Council Chief was persuading me: "Elara, he's a war hero. It's not easy for a pack to cultivate an Alpha... some things... require considering the bigger picture."

I stopped arguing and simply knelt before my brother's grave for an entire night.

Then I submitted my severance application and moved to new territory with my parents, who had gone white-haired overnight.

Before leaving, Kael blocked my path with reddened eyes: "Elara, do you hate me this much? Won't you even give me a chance to atone?"

I looked at him calmly: "Your sin, like my brother's life, can never be repaid."

After that day, he continued rising through the pack ranks, earning honors, as if nothing had ever happened.

While our family stayed away for three whole years.

I thought I'd never have any connection with Kael again in this lifetime.

Until a recall order brought him back before me once more.

"Elara, long time no see."

I was eight weeks pregnant when I suffered a violent hemorrhage inside the café’s restroom. Clutching my bleeding abdomen, I called my husband fourteen times—only to be labeled a hysterical faker. That same night, he toasted champagne with his young female assistant in his arms without a single shred of guilt.
Three days later, surveillance footage exposed the truth. The woman he cherished had been the one who shoved me down the staircase on purpose.
The night I lost our child, he was out raising his glass in celebration.
Fine. I will make them pay for every single thing they’ve done.

In my previous life, I chose the werewolf and gave birth to the Arbiter, only to be burned alive by the younger sister I loved most.
When I was reborn, I knelt before the Oath Stone, handed my marriage pact to her, and watched her gloat in triumph before choosing Sylas, the elf everyone else avoided.
Everyone was waiting to see me make a fool of myself—until the day of the wedding, when he came carrying a gown blessed by the Sacred Tree, lowered his eyes to me, and said, "In this life, I will never fail you."

When Arthur brought his fallen comrade's widow Elena and her son into our knight's estate, I didn't cry or make a scene.

I simply packed our belongings in silence with my daughter Lilith, moving out of the master bedroom.

"Elena is struggling alone with her child," I said calmly to Arthur. "We'll move to the basement so you can better care for them."

On Lilith's seventh birthday, Arthur gave her a magical glider model. Elena's son Damian cried and demanded it for himself.

Lilith expressionlessly handed over the toy: "Father says little brother has no father now, so you'll be his father. As his big sister, I should let him have it."

Arthur was pleased by our tolerance and generosity, but gradually noticed something—I no longer seemed to love him, and our daughter no longer warmed to him either.

He didn't know that in my past life, he had thrown us out of our home for that mother and son. During the winter blizzard, while Lilith and I starved and froze, he gave all our gold and mana stones to Elena's family, leaving us to die of cold and hunger.

After my rebirth, my daughter and I stopped fighting, stopped competing.

But we would never need Arthur again.

When he wanted to carve out my daughter's Star-magic eyes to save Damian, I finally dropped the pretense and called upon my brother—the Abyssal Duke.

Time for this hypocritical holy knight to practice his "Greater Good" with his own Light Core.

The day I won the competition, my sister's heart "failed," and she could never stand again.

From that moment, she claimed all the favoritism.

Looking at my wall of honors, she sat in her wheelchair, heartbroken: "Chloe is so amazing, unlike me—just a burden who could die any moment."

My brother's heart ached for her. He grabbed a baseball bat and smashed all my trophies to pieces, defending her honor.

When I was selected as dance troupe captain, tears streamed down her face: "If I hadn't gotten sick, could I have shined on the Lincoln Center stage too?"

My parents turned to scold me for showing off, drugging me before the audition and ruining my chances.

Later, she had a breakdown and went live on Instagram, swallowing pills while sobbing that she didn't deserve love.

My childhood sweetheart, my fiancé, rushed to her side immediately. He dropped to one knee and slipped my diamond engagement ring onto her finger.

Later, I was killed by an armed robber. As I lay dying, I made one last desperate call for help.

He hung up impatiently:

"Mia needs me to hold her hand during her IV treatment. Stop being so fucking unreasonable!"

When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my sister's heart "failed."

My name is Evelyn. In my third year working at the morgue, I unzipped body bag J-47 and found my sister who had been missing for three days—her chest cavity surgically hollowed out, heart and magic-infused ribs completely gone.

My hands shaking, I checked my phone. A text from my billionaire fiancé Tristan: "Babe, don't forget tomorrow's engagement dinner. Heard about Lily's accident? Already arranged lawyers to handle it."

I almost laughed. For three months, this Ivy League heir kissed my forehead every night, whispering how much he loved me. Yet yesterday, he personally supervised a live heart extraction—to save his dying white moonlight, he strapped my sister to an operating table and carved out her heart while she was fully conscious.

Using my witch bloodline, I accessed Lily's final memories. I saw her desperate eyes, heard Tristan coldly command: "Careful with the goods."

At the fraternity engagement party, Tristan announced a five-million-dollar settlement for the "tragic accident." The lawyer handed me documents—NDAs, death certificates, and a forged organ donation form with my signature.

I looked across the table. The previously dying heiress Chloe was elegantly cutting steak, her cheeks flushed with unnatural health. My sister's heart beat strong in her chest.

"Sign it, Evie," Tristan stroked my hand. "Life must go on."

I tore up every contract.

"You think money buys lives?" I slashed my palm, blood igniting the shredded papers. "Tonight, learn about real equivalent exchange."

Only then did Tristan realize he wasn't marrying some ordinary morgue intern, but the last heir of the First Witch bloodline.

He activated the fraternity's witch-hunting trap—silver chains, exorcism arrays, and my most trusted friend Mark driving a consecrated nail into my back.

But when the ancient seal shattered, when the primordial witch power awakened, I systematically ripped out the hearts of every fraternity brother, letting them experience my sister's final agony.

Facing annihilation, Tristan fell to his knees weeping: "You're the one I've always loved!"

I smiled coldly, opening the crematorium pit beneath the floor: "Want to chase your wife? Here's a real crematorium."

In the Hall of Divine Selection, my younger sister stepped on me and declared that she was the only one worthy of becoming the Dragon Queen. Then she threw Kaelorn at me—a broken, half-blind dragon she had tortured until even his tail was severed—like he was nothing more than a worthless mate for a worthless bride.
In my last life, I was stripped to the bone and imprisoned by the Dragon God, while she lived free and untouched.
But this time, the moment she raised her hand to slap me, I had already made up my mind—
In this life, I'll be the one to drag her into hell.

To protect my older sister's piano championship, my own brother crushed all ten of my fingers.
To win my sister's favor, my fiancé hired someone to kick the baby out of me.
After surviving a fire that nearly killed me, I finally woke up.
And when I returned, I blasted the hard proof of their affair and their schemes all over the internet. As I watched them lose their minds, lose everything, and drop to their knees begging for mercy, I let out a cold laugh, turned around, and claimed the top of the world!

I am a princess of the deep sea. For love, I abandoned my crown and used ocean magic to help him rise from a penniless sailor to a duke of immense wealth.

On our tenth wedding anniversary, he slapped me in front of all the guests, tore the Ocean Crown from my head to place it on his mistress, and ripped away my reverse scales: "I'm sick of this freakish marriage to a monster!" Blood flowed down the coral cuts, and my unborn child miscarried in the humiliation.

The moment the first reverse scale fell from my chest, I forgot our first kiss. At the same time, his three gold-laden ships mysteriously sank on the windless sea.

The Abyssal Pact has been activated: seven reverse scales correspond to seven memories. With each scale that falls, I forget him a little more, while he loses all the wealth he gained through me.

When I took my last breath in that Harlem tenement, the final image burned into my dying eyes was Noah—my "perfect" fiancé—watching with manufactured anguish as the judge sentenced me for his crimes.

This golden boy manipulator had convinced me to take the fall for his drug charges, destroying my Oxford scholarship and Wall Street future.

Now I'm back, three days before that fatal graduation party.

This time, the gentle control freak can pay for his own stupidity.

I have seventy-two hours to strip away his saint mask and kick him off his pedestal—then climb over his corpse to claim my Wall Street throne.

When my family went bankrupt, my fiancé teamed up with my best friend and sold me to an underground club to pay off their debts.
To secure an investment, that scumbag handed me over to the most powerful kingmaker on Wall Street.
But the moment the call connected, I froze.
The big shot my cheating ex was groveling to was actually my first love—the man I dumped five years ago because he was poor.
Looking at the smug jerk who still had no idea who he was dealing with, I let out a cold laugh.
A deadly revenge game had just begun.

To win back his one true love, my husband sent me, pregnant and vulnerable, straight into the clutches of a rival mob's dungeon.
I was torn apart by vicious dogs, a brutal end for both me and my unborn child.
After death, my spirit drifted back home, only to hear him coldly chuckle, "Let her learn her lesson; she won't come back until she admits she was wrong."
It wasn't until a mangled, rotting body was dumped at his feet, and he saw the blood-soaked wedding ring on its finger, that this heartless mob boss finally snapped...

I made a blood pact with the same man seven times, and broke it seven times.

And this vampire lord also severed our bond seven times for his moonlight goddess.

When we first made the pact, he knelt on one knee and said to me: "For the rest of eternity, my blood and flesh belong only to you."

But whenever his moonlight goddess awakened, the man would change his tune: "Can't you be more understanding? Do you really want Lilith to bear the shame of seducing a married man?"

The first time we broke the pact, I violently tore the contract trying to keep him, the backlash made me vomit blood and faint, yet I never saw him come to check on me.

The third time we broke the pact, I disguised myself as a servant at his banquet, just for a chance to see him one more time.

The sixth time we broke the pact, I had learned to quietly pack my things and move out of our castle by myself.

My hysteria, my endless compromises, my obedient compliance,

earned me his punctual returns for renewal,

and his repeated betrayals.

Until this time, when I received news that his moonlight goddess was about to awaken, I proactively placed the severance agreement before him.

He made our usual appointment for renewal as always, not knowing that

this time, I would leave forever.

Because next month's full moon night would be the coronation ceremony for me, this "walking blood bank," as the Ancestor.

At our engagement party, Eli demands I sign a hundred-thousand-dollar check to bail out his first love, Aila.

I cave, pouring everything I have into paving the way for his future.

But he pays off a nurse to slip me abortion pills, manipulates the training equipment to crush my pelvis, and causes me to hemorrhage and miscarry.

While I lie in the hospital fighting for my life, he spreads rumors about my promiscuity, burns my cherished nautical collection to ashes, and scatters them over Aila's grave.

He steps on my spine to get his acceptance letter to the top maritime academy, trading my life for his future.

After gaining power, he frames my brother, ruining his promotion to captain, and eventually tramples my entire shipping family under his feet.

I die full of resentment, only to wake up to Eli slamming his hand on the table and screaming at me. Aila is trapped in an underground club! Sign this check right now! If I don't get the money to bail her out, she's dead tonight!

My brother chose my enemy, and the man I loved joined forces with her to sell me into a club.
Pregnancy, miscarriage, imprisonment, beatings—every cry for help I made was dismissed as "just an act."
It wasn't until I was truly dead that they lost their minds, dropping to their knees at my grave and sobbing that they were sorry.
But by then, I could no longer hear them.

My biological parents and my fiancé shove me into a sterile room for a forced drug trial. The chemicals completely destroy my cranial nerves.

They lie about my adopted sister Mia having a terminal illness, using my college admission and trust fund as leverage to make me sacrifice myself.

I used to put my life on the line for Liam, staying up all night to finish his homework, draining everything I had to please my family.

But they are putting on an act from the very beginning. Mia isn't sick. The drug trial is just a front for money laundering.

Stripped of all love, hate, and empathy, I am left with only cold logic after enduring imprisonment, beatings, and endless injections.

Afterward, Liam falls to his knees, sobbing and begging to get back together. I dodge his touch with a blank face.

"Don't come near me. The smell of you makes me physically sick."

On my son's seventh birthday, he hid behind my husband's first love and shouted at me, "You're a bad woman! She's my real mom!"
My husband was even crueler. He threw me out of the house without a second thought.
"To me, you were nothing but a surrogate."
Heartbroken, I walked away—and later adopted an abandoned little boy.
Years passed, when my husband finally learned the truth about the woman he had always protected, he came to me with our biological son, both of them kneeling before me in tears, begging for forgiveness.
Holding my adopted son's hand, I smiled calmly.
"Sorry. I only have one son."

My daughter was choked until her face turned purple by the mistress's son, then nearly died after my ex-husband forced her to give blood.
She was beaten, cursed at, and abandoned on a bench outside the hospital.
And I could do nothing to help her.
Because I had already died eight years ago.
It wasn't until my daughter collapsed crying at my grave—and the story made the news—that my ex-husband finally learned the truth.
He had destroyed both me and the child we shared in the cruelest way possible.
And by then, there was no fixing it.

At the scene of the car accident, my parents frantically scooped up my sister—who only had a scraped knee—then kicked me aside as I lay there dying.
"Don't be a burden to your sister. Just wait by the roadside and croak!"
They drove off without a second thought. In that moment, my heart turned to stone.
What they didn't know was that I didn't die. Instead, I got adopted by a top-tier professor and became a math prodigy worth tens of millions.
Two years later, when my birth parents went bankrupt and got on their knees begging me for a handout, I smiled coldly and played the recording of their attempted murder...

Everyone in town said I dumped my blind boyfriend because I couldn't stand being poor.
Five years later, I'd become a blind drifter myself, relying on handouts just to eat.
And he'd become one of Silicon Valley's hottest rising tech moguls.
He recognized me, but pretended he didn't.
He wanted me on my knees. Wanted me begging. Wanted me to pay for "abandoning" him.
Until he found out the person who gave up everything for him back then was no one else...
But me.

In my past life, I was pregnant and met a gruesome end, torn apart by the mad dog my cop husband kept, taking both my life and my baby's.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I discovered I was pregnant.
My seemingly perfect husband, the epitome of a good man, smiled as he brought me muffins laced with rat poison. My seemingly kind in-laws watched me intently, eager for me to swallow the deadly treat...
That's when it hit me: the perfect marriage I thought I had was actually a family conspiracy for murder!
This time, I refuse to be the lamb led to slaughter. If you want my life and my child's, then you'll all be begging for mercy in hell!

I am the wife of a mafia boss.

When a rival family raids our estate, I take the fatal bullets meant for my sister-in-law.

When my husband, Vittorio, arrives, I give him a weak, relieved smile.

Instead of helping me, he points the muzzle of his gun right between my eyes.

"The perimeter alarms didn't trip," his consigliere, Lorenzo, says. "Only an inside job. Boss, this marriage was a trap from day one."

I kneel on the floor, begging him to just look at the bullet wounds on my chest.

Vittorio just grinds his shoe into my broken collarbone.

"The docks. Smuggling freezer three. Let twenty below zero teach her some loyalty."

They drag me into that steel tomb reserved for traitors.

"Vittorio! I never betrayed you! I saved Bella!"

The life monitor beeps weakly, but he rips out the wire.

"Just static. Don't waste energy on a dead traitor."

By the time he learns the truth, I am nothing but a blue, frozen corpse curled up in the ice.

I grew up training in seclusion, intentionally sealing my royal aura to experience life as a regular werewolf. My family arranged a marriage for me a long time ago, and my fiancé is Derrick, the Alpha of a local pack. Today, I visit a high-end witch boutique to pick out an exclusive dress for my Mating Ball. I immediately spot a one-of-a-kind enchanted moonstone gown. Just as I reach out to take it.

A woman standing nearby shoots me a sideways glance and announces loudly to the people around her, "This dress looks pretty good. I'm taking it."

Before she even finishes her sentence, she steps forward and snatches the gown right out of my reach.

My face darkens, and I speak up to stop her. "First come, first served. I saw this dress first. Snatching it like that is way out of line."

She scoffs, looking me up and down with pure disgust. "This enchanted gown costs a fortune. Look at what you're wearing. Do you really think you're worthy of even touching it? I'm Selene, Alpha Derrick's mate. In this territory, Derrick is the law!"

How ironic. Derrick is the exact same fiancé my family arranged for me.

At the Blood Moon Luna coronation rehearsal, I wait alone at the altar for eight agonizing hours. My fated Alpha, Caleb, is nowhere to be seen.

Just as my legs go completely numb, his text finally comes through. "Elara, Lily from the Hollowthorn Clan got attacked by a rogue and is terrified. I have to stay here and calm her down. Let's just run through the coronation rehearsal tomorrow."

Right after that, Lily sends a photo. She is bundled up in Caleb's favorite black jacket. The caption is a deliberate stab to the heart. "Elara, Caleb's scent makes me feel so safe. I feel so bad you have to prep for the coronation all by yourself, but you're so strong. I'm sure you don't mind, right?"

I don't hesitate for a second. I dial the high priest's number. "Prepare the rejection ceremony. At tomorrow's coronation, I am unilaterally severing my mate bond with Caleb."

Ten years together. I bled for him on the battlefield and bore the weight of the entire pack's judgment alone, only to be abandoned at every major milestone so he could coddle an Omega who fakes weakness for sympathy. A cheap, used silver trinket is his idea of an apology. Fake attacks, public framing, malicious bidding wars at auctions. Piece by piece, they trampled all over my pride.

He thinks groveling and offering up territories can fix this. He doesn't realize that the moment he chose to fail me time and time again, I stopped wanting him. I don't give a damn about his leftover affection.

Elara is done being Caleb's backup Luna.

The night before the SAT, Instagram exploded with a viral post:

"Madison, tomorrow I'm going to confess my love to you with my SAT exam! I'll write you love letters in my English essay, bubble 'I LOVE YOU' on my math answer sheet, fill my physics test with your name......"

Below the text was a photo of two hands intertwined.

I tapped to enlarge it. The familiar scar on his right wrist stabbed straight through my heart.

Comments poured in below: "This is insane! What kind of earth-shattering love is worth sacrificing standardized test scores for?"

The blogger immediately responded: "No worries, I already got MIT early admission anyway. Taking the SAT is just a formality."

"But as long as she's happy, what are test scores anyway?"

I took a deep breath and closed my quantum physics notes.

Madison was the transfer student who arrived during senior spring.

And the person posting was my boyfriend Liam, who had just called me an hour ago encouraging me to do well on the test so we could attend the same university.

I exited Instagram and dialed MIT Admissions.

"Sir, regarding the joint-authorship application—I want to withdraw it."

I die a miserable death in the dungeon, drained of three hundred years of pure blood. I owe it all to Elena and my ridiculously biased clan.

In my previous life, I am the Chief Executioner of the Night Abyss clan. During our hunt for the Alpha Wolf, she drops her weapon and throws herself into Lucas's arms, playing the helpless victim.

I take the beast's attack head-on and suffer severe injuries. The other knights just shield her, turning around to accuse me of being petty and jealous.

Prince Marcus blatantly favors his illegitimate daughter, Elena. He snatches my magic core, constantly puts me down, and even rips the core out of my loyal wolf familiar, Fenrir. In the end, he drains my blood dry just to feed her.

Now that I am reborn, I return to the exact night we hunt the high-tier Alpha Wolf.

We'd been together for eight years when my childhood sweetheart took me to see the ocean.
We were in a terrible car crash.
In my final moments, he used his last strength to hold my hand.
"Thank you. I'm so lucky to have you."
I squeezed back through my tears as he took his final breath, and moments later, I followed.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back in senior year, coding day and night.
All so we could conquer Silicon Valley together, making up for our past life's regrets.
At the graduation party, he walked toward me with roses just like before.
"I want to tell you, I love you—"
My heart soared as I stood up.
"I love you too—"
He walked past me and handed the roses to the trust fund heiress.
In the stunned silence that followed, I finally understood—he wanted to rewrite his story.
When applying for grad school, I chose MIT, three thousand miles away from him.
I'd give him what he wanted, and finally pursue the dream I'd only found at forty-five.

Six years of hauling corpses. Six years of scraping maggots out of floorboards and suffocating in a toxic slurry of putrefying flesh and industrial solvents—all just to buy my husband a little more borrowed time.

I thought the thing I pulled back from the brink of death was a human being.

But the day my joint accounts were frozen... the moment my own son clamped a hand over his nose in disgust at my stench... the second I watched his mistress weeping softly into his chest... I finally realized the truth.

I hadn't saved a man. I had resurrected a pack of monsters, and they weren't going to stop until they ground me into the dirt.

At the Eternal Night Realm admission ceremony, Carly suddenly grabs my hand.

My heart pounds. I think he is going to announce our relationship to the entire continent.

Instead, he says, "Eve, thanks for everything these past five years. But Lym didn't make the cut. She's hurting right now, and I need to go back and be there for her."

He crushes the realm token right in front of thousands of people.

For five years, I hid my pureblood lord identity. I drained my magic until I literally coughed up blood, quietly paving every step of his way.

I thought we loved each other. I thought after this ceremony we would rise to the top together.

But his casual thanks for everything crushes five years of my devotion into dust.

What is even more laughable is that the moment the online backlash hits Lym, he calls me on the comms.

"Eve! You need to put out a statement to clear this up right now! As my friend, you owe me this!"

Friend?

My hand holding the crystal shakes.

Inside the private dining room, my seven-year-old daughter leans against the edge of the table. She waits for three hours, and her birthday cake melts. Dante texts me, claiming he is handling an "emergency arms deal" and telling us not to wait.

But his mistress's Instagram tells a completely different story.

She wears the limited-edition black diamond necklace Dante just bought, cozying up to someone in a top-tier club. The caption is blinding: "A real man always knows who comes first, even when bullets fly."

What is more brutal happens the next day. When stray bullets hit the casino, Dante actually shoves his own daughter away when she begs for help, turning his back to protect his mistress's nephew instead.

Looking at the bloody scratches on my daughter's arm, listening to him announce in public that "that boy is my only blood," my heart completely dies.

He doesn't know that to love him, the heir to the Romano Mafia family willingly suffered in the slums for seven years. And he treats our lives like garbage compared to an outsider.

Now, it is time to make him pay.

At our engagement party, my fiancé's first love confessed her feelings for him in front of everyone.
Without a second thought, he shoved me aside and ran after her, leaving me to be hit by a car.
While I was in the hospital, he brought her into our home and forced me to eat food I was allergic to.
Most absurd of all, he personally sent me to the operating table so I could give her my kidney.
She tortured my cat to death, and all he said was, "It was just a cat."
The day I decided to leave the country, he thought I had died in a plane crash. Then he got into a car accident and lost his memory, remembering only the version of us at eighteen—when we were in love.
Too bad some scars never fade.

When the Grand Duke, my contract master, noticed I hadn't submitted a requisition for magical resources in five days, he assumed I had finally learned to be a proper exclusive priestess. In a rare display of mercy, he ignited the communication crystal:

"I have arranged to resume your brother's treatments in the infirmary. Behave yourself from now on, and stop fabricating excuses to demand high-tier spirit stones."

"I know it isn't easy for someone from your dependent background, but the resources of my estate are not so easily scammed."

But what he didn't know was that five days ago, my brother had already died from a tragic magic riot.

Now that my brother is gone, it is time for me to leave as well.

I was betrayed, cheated on, and ruthlessly schemed against by my own husband. Cornered by him and his mistress, I was forced to leap off a cliff. No one expected that I would survive the fatal fall. I carved out a bloody path for myself in Silicon Valley and rose to become the sharpest, youngest queen across the entire capital circle. Three years later, he knelt before me in utter disarray, weeping brokenly. Meanwhile, draped in a white wedding gown, I was held securely in my bridegroom’s arms. It was in that moment that he finally comprehended—losing me was the harshest retribution he would ever endure for the rest of his life.