161 Book(s) Related to nurse angel

A torrential downpour of strong acid flooded the city, and mutated sea monsters slaughtered buildings. When Chloe, along with burly men from the rugby team, wielding fire axes, frantically smashed down the door, attempting to burn me alive and steal my bottled water, I had already welded the security door firmly into the load-bearing wall.
Faced with the pried-open door, I didn't waste any words and directly used a 20,000-volt electric spear to pierce the strong man's thigh! Then, I coldly pushed the blood-soaked floor outside.
The pungent smell of blood instantly attracted the skeletal behemoths from the water, turning the corridor into a horrific slaughterhouse. I listened coldly to their desperate screams in front of the monitor.
In this desolate wasteland, you think you can survive by stepping on me? Then feed the monsters with your flesh and blood !

Intro: I spent three years as a logistics mage in the Darkmoon Pack, chasing the wolf clan's female war goddess for a full year. I repaired her armor, mixed her potions, and secretly tucked protective charms inside her gear. She never once looked me in the eye. At the bonfire banquet, after enduring humiliation, I took the initiative to sever ties and walked away. Without my help, she lost everything. When I was reborn and returned, facing the one and only chance to win me back, she finally chose to make the first move.

At a dinner party in a Long Island mansion, my wife, desperate to latch onto a newly minted venture-capital darling, let our five-year-old son smash the gift I’d brought in front of everyone—then waved the keys to a luxury car and made him call another man “Daddy.” With icy arrogance, she slapped a divorce agreement on the table, convinced that a bottom-tier nobody like me would be unable to even put food on the table once I was gone. I didn’t argue. I left only four words—“As you wish”—and walked out in silence.

What she didn’t know was that the business empire she was so proud of stood behind a moat I had built with my own hands, from the shadows. What she knew even less was that the Wall Street titan she tried to cling to in her moment of desperation… was the ex-husband she had always tried to avoid.

When the mirage finally collapsed—when debts buried her and she was dragged down into the mud—she went mad searching for me. In the midst of a blizzard, my ex-wife, dressed in rags, knelt in Times Square, sobbing and begging me to come home. I only raised the window of my Maybach, calm and expressionless, and drove off without looking back—toward a shore she would never reach. Love that comes too late is worth nothing.

For the past ten years, I've been the worst-ranked cleaner in the Hero Association .
The S-class war god regarded me as an ant, wantonly trampling on my dignity on this floor.
Until that day, the SSS-level villain broke out of prison, massacred the headquarters, and the high and mighty gods knelt in pools of blood like dead dogs, howling in despair.
I silently picked up the mop and walked up to the arrogant villain: "You've dirtied my floor, please cooperate with the cleaning."
The next second, the concept vanished, reduced to ashes! The entire audience was shocked: "I told you to mop the floor, and you wiped the villain away?!"

Intro: When she found the wolf cub, she touched him and saw a vision—the grown version of him standing atop a mountain of corpses, ten thousand wolves prostrate at his feet. She named him Little King. Sixteen years. She taught him to fight, to control his transformation, to ride atop pain. The first full sentence he ever learned was "Whoever hurts you, I'll kill." On a blizzard night, he curled up at her door and kept watch through the whole night, just to say, "I was afraid you'd be cold." She almost said, "Don't leave me." But what came out in the end was something else.

At the red carpet event, Maddie, my partner of three years, in an attempt to curry favor with a popular male star, publicly humiliated me, trampling on my foot and yelling, "Ethan, you're just a backstage errand boy

. Don't interfere with Ryan's shots. Go back to carrying materials." The whole room burst into laughter; everyone thought I was a lowly sycophant forced to swallow my humiliation.

But I didn't get angry. I calmly took out my tablet, cut off all her studio's basic permissions with a single click, and immediately sent the irrefutable evidence of her breach of contract to the brand's legal department.

Three minutes later, she was completely stripped of her control and faced a multi-million dollar claim for breach of contract.

At first, she thought I was just acting out of spite, that a little charity would win me back. It wasn't until the day her assets were forcibly liquidated and she was completely blacklisted from the industry that she desperately realized: for the past three years, she had only been able to sit at the table because of my charity.

Later, shamelessly, she crawled through garbage cans, barefoot, to the airport, knelt before my bulletproof Maybach, and begged me to come back.

As for me, I simply walked onto the private jet surrounded by executives from top European conglomerates.

At the Waldorf Astoria in Manhattan, my ex-husband threw champagne all over me, and my wife publicly called me a "gold digger."

I held the tray, silent, like a clown being punished.

Three years ago, I lived in anonymity with her in a basement, cooking and doing laundry for her, all because of the pure stubbornness in her eyes.

In return, she embraced her father's killer and trampled me into the mud.

The divorce agreement was signed quickly, and she got into a Porsche with her enemy.

I laughed.
The next day, a Maybach pulled up in front of the law firm, escorted by eight bodyguards. The sole heir to the oldest conglomerate on the East Coast had returned.

While she was watching the cheap TV in the supermarket, seeing me marry a European princess, she was kneeling in front of a cold shelf, being verbally abused by a homeless man over a moldy potato.

The acrid smell of the bullet piercing my skull hadn't even dissipated when I came back to life.

I was reborn back to the third week of the apocalypse. At this time, the tyrant of the fifth checkpoint was stripping me of my right to pass and kicking me into a horde of thousands of zombies.

In my past life, I also died here. But until the moment of my death, these fools didn't know that—within the skulls of those terrifying zombies lay divine crystal cores capable of "freezing time"!

Having been given a second chance at life, I did not run away.

I calmly snapped the neck of the first monster and pried the glowing key out of the rotten flesh.

The instant I forcibly froze the torrential, highly corrosive acid rain in mid-air, I knew that this apocalyptic hunting game... had shifted in power dynamics.

In my past life, I was betrayed by my fiancée and my tycoon boss, and thrown alive into a mutated swarm to be torn apart.

When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn fifteen days before the multidimensional catastrophe! Facing my vain ex-boyfriend who was still threatening to break off our engagement and buy me luxury bags, I sneered and decisively blocked him, instantly awakening a "Beast-Level Infrastructure System."

Hoarding supplies in the apocalypse? Too narrow-minded! I directly infiltrated the polar regions with my geeky best friends, tampered with central permissions, and seized my tycoon boss's invincible fortress—a multi-billion dollar investment with a nuclear reactor!

When the catastrophe erupted and gravity collapsed, my boss and ex-girlfriend, dragging their mangled bodies, knelt outside the ten-meter-thick tungsten steel door, frantically kowtowing, begging to be brought in as dogs. I, however, holding a Romanée-Conti, coldly pressed the gravity strangulation button.

The Abyss Era, the Old Gods are all dead. On this wasteland, only I sit high on my icy throne, establishing absolute laws.

The wife in the cryogenic chamber had only three minutes left.

I had an iron hook pierce my collarbone, and my knees shattered while kneeling at a lavish banquet. Wine glasses smashed at my feet, flashbulbs were pointed at my face, and everyone was laughing—the former war god of the North, now less than a dog.

Victor stomped on the remote control and smashed it.

When the red light of the three-minute countdown popped up, I raised my head. The sealing nails on my shoulders were blasted away by the qi, and what surged from the dark golden depths of my eyes made the entire building tremble.

He crushed over a hundred mercenaries with a single punch.

He tore open the alloy gate with his bare hands.

One hundred thousand black-armored demons knelt down from the darkness, and their commander cut off his own arm to plead guilty.

I pressed the full-frequency communication button, draped in a blood-patterned cloak: "Seven days. Make the three great empires hand over the restorative herbs. If even one herb is missing—wipe out the entire nation."

He knelt before his wife, he fought his way through the world for her. The moment she awoke was the beginning of this world paying its debt.

"You good-for-nothing should get out and save your food rations. I'll use your truckload of supplies for you!"

The man-eating scarlet spores swept through the town. My good brother locked the security door tightly and locked me in the corridor filled with blood mist.

He stared intently at me through the peephole, waiting to see the horrific sight of my internal organs being drained by the fungus.

But a second before I was devoured by the spores, I hid in my personal space and with a single thought drained the last drop of water and every grain of rice from the room.

Three days later, in this impregnable "vacuum tomb".

When he was so thirsty that he swallowed blood, and knelt on the ground desperately pounding on the door.

I kicked the door open, tied him up with nylon rope, and hung him upside down in the blood-red storm outside the window.

In the apocalyptic freeze, temperatures plummeted to seventy below zero. The earth was encased in ice, and ice beasts roamed everywhere.

I risked my life to scavenge for food, covered in wounds, enduring cold and hunger, leaving all our meager supplies for my parents and brother.

I thought blood was thicker than water, that all the suffering and hardship was worth it.

But I never imagined that when our resources ran out, the family I'd protected with my life would reveal their true beastly nature. They ambushed and knocked me unconscious, tied me to an ice pillar, planning to use me as food rations—to eat me alive.

At the moment of near death, the ice jade my grandfather left me suddenly shattered. I awakened top-tier ice abilities, commanding frost and snow, controlling the extreme cold.

My kindness had been frozen to death by the bitter cold. Family meant nothing.

Those who betrayed me, deceived me, and tried to eat me—I wouldn't spare a single one.

After catching my girlfriend and my most hated nemesis in bed together, they ruthlessly pushed me down the stairs.

When I woke up again, the world had gone completely mad.

My girlfriend who betrayed me and my arrogant nemesis have both awakened "superpowers".

And I became a "useless" person without any special abilities, trampled under their feet.

But only my mutated eyes saw through the truth: it wasn't a gift of evolution at all, but a horrifying parasite crawling on their spines and sucking their brains! And my high and mighty nemesis was the swarm mother that was trying to devour all of humanity.

They laughed at me for being a worthless, honest man, unaware that my blood was a deadly poison capable of burning these monsters to ashes.

In an incredibly realistic precognitive dream, my vampire stepparents and nominal brother cruelly pushed me off the second floor to feed the zombies for half a moldy loaf of bread.

I opened my eyes to find less than 72 hours until the full-blown apocalypse!

To hell with hypocritical family ties! In this life, I decisively spent money to buy a shelter, unexpectedly awakening my spatial abilities! With a thought, I remotely emptied the largest warehouse supermarket in the entire state, and even used tens of tons of heavy steel plates to build an indestructible doomsday fortress!

When the zombie horde descended, order collapsed. I sat in my absolutely safe fortress, eating a tomahawk steak, watching the brutal family of three on the monitor, driven mad by hunger, even killing each other and cannibalizing flesh for half a biscuit.

They knelt in the blood-soaked floor, desperately crying and begging me to open the door and give them alms.

My fingertips danced with violent lightning power as I coldly hung up the phone: "The door is welded shut. You can enjoy hell outside!"

With only three days left until the apocalyptic fungal outbreak, my ordinarily strict father unexpectedly took out a million-dollar loan from a loan shark, transferred it to my account, and issued an absolute order: "Buy supplies, build a fortress, and even if you die, do not open that door!"

Staring at the seven-figure balance, I grabbed a liquor bottle, shattered the nose of the school bully who used to torment me, and instantly kicked off a frantic hoarding spree. I bought out a penthouse on the 50th floor, welded on a bank-vault-grade blast door, and stockpiled an endless supply of Tomahawk steaks and a massive arsenal of weapons.

When the disaster finally struck, the once-arrogant rich kids downstairs were reduced to bloody fodder for the monsters. The starving school bully knelt outside my door, tearing into his own companions just for a leftover bone. Meanwhile, separated by bulletproof glass, I sipped an ice-cold cola and coldly enjoyed the show.

Just as a massive horde of the infected surrounded the building, my parents unexpectedly arrived in a Unimog heavy armored vehicle armed to the teeth, crushing through the sea of corpses in a dominant rescue. With our family reunited and packing heavy firepower, we violently tore open our own path of rampage across this scorched wasteland!

My fiancée, with whom I've been in a relationship for three years, has threatened to break off our engagement for the hundredth time, forcing me to donate a kidney to her adopted brother, who's faking illness and acting like a hypocrite.

My biological parents even threatened to sever ties with me: "You have a healthy body. Ian has nothing but us. You can't even bear to part with a kidney. You're so selfish and cold-blooded!"

They don't know that my hands, which I used to play the piano, had already been crushed by gangsters while cleaning up their mess; they also don't know that at this moment, I have a critical illness notice for late-stage bone cancer in my pocket.

Seeing the undisguised disgust and indifference in my fiancée's eyes, I swallowed the taste of blood in my throat and calmly signed the consent form for the live organ removal.

"Okay, I'll donate. I'll give you back my life along with it."

Later, I died like a dog on the rusty operating table of a shady clinic, my bones and marrow completely drained.

But when I was truly reduced to dust and left without even a complete corpse... the truth about my vicious foster brother faking illness was exposed.

The aloof and arrogant female CEO who once treated me like trash went completely mad overnight.

She knelt desperately before my nameless grave, plunged a sharp knife into her abdomen, and collapsed in a pool of blood, pleading for me to see her one more time.

Everyone envied me—a penniless orphan who married into a wealthy family. My husband, Gabriel Sterling, is handsome, charming, and filthy rich.
But what they don’t know is, our marriage is nothing but a show. We share a bed, but not dreams or words. To the world, he’s the perfect husband, but at night, he calls out another woman’s name in his sleep.
Even after I gave him twins, I couldn’t thaw his icy heart.
So I filed for divorce, taking the mighty CEO to court.
I left everything behind—kids, money, the mansion—just to cut him off for good. For the first time, I saw fear in the eyes of a man who always had everything under control.
After I walked away, he was left with crying babies and a cold, empty bed. Without me, his luxury villa was nothing but soulless concrete.
By the time he realized he’d fallen for his ex-wife, I’d already become the heiress he could never reach.
When we met again, I looked at him and said calmly, “Mr. Sterling, if you want to chase me, get in line. You should go home and take care of the kids.”
He held a child in each arm, smiling faintly. “They’re too little to be without their mom. I’m giving them back to you.”
As the servants carried the twins’ luggage inside, he popped out of a giant box and grinned shamelessly, “I’m their life-sized toy. Or you can think of me as a smart robot—with free bed-warming service included.”

Intro: At Cavendish Manor, wishes are real. So is the price. The moment one hundred million dollars hit his account, Leo started grinning, drooling, his skin turning gray. His father looked at him without a single tear, straightened his tie, and said: I want my company to be number one in the world. Twelve heirs, one after another, spoke their wishes. Money. Power. Beauty. With each wish, the shadows on the ceiling grew darker. I'm just an ordinary exorcist. None of that interests me. I only want to protect my client and push back against that invisible thread of fate.

Intro: Reborn three years into the past, I watched coldly as my scheming ex-girlfriend and my so-called sworn brother got together—the same two who had conspired to frame me in my past life. They had no idea that in all of Silvermist City, I was the only one who could devour dragonbone shards—if that certain lady wanted to survive, she would have to kneel and beg me to fall in love with her again. And my dear brother, who'd sweet-talked his way into the royal box? He probably hadn't calculated how many seconds that golden voice of his could burn for.

In this era of universal awakening, I've drawn the most tragic "BOSS" route.

For the sake of my fiancée Celine's guild, I signed an exclusive binding agreement. For four whole years, I was treated like an ATM for loot drops, and was mercilessly killed 2173 times.

When Celine led 137 elite members of her guild, armed with a permanent kill item, to stab me in the heart, preparing to dig out my core to pave the way for her new love, she thought she was about to usher in the supreme glory of being the first to kill me on the entire server.

But what she didn't know was that the hidden max-level reward for the BOSS route was "system administrator privileges".

The sword tip stopped at my chest, freezing time across the entire server. I looked at the greedy traitor before me, smiled, and pressed the "Level Reset" button.
"Sorry, this game is now in my hands."

Strip away god-tier equipment and wipe out max-level accounts. This time, I will bring down the reigning number one in the entire server, making him start from level 1 in the newbie village and personally pay the price for those two thousand bloody battles!

To save my sister, I humbly married into her family, only to be treated like a parasite by my ex-wife, who was worth billions, and suffered endless humiliation.

When she stopped giving my sister her life-saving medication for her male best friend, I was completely desperate. On a snowy night, I plunged off a cliff with my car, and my body was never recovered.

It wasn't until the police presented her with her charred belongings and the truth about how I risked my life to save her that the once aloof woman went completely insane.

Three years later, I rose from the ashes as a multi-billionaire, while she knelt at my feet like a dog, begging and pleading, "Please... just look at me one more time..."

In my last life, I was killed by the wife I loved most. Reborn once again—will I fail this time too? When magic that sweeps across the world descends, in this life, love finally breaks through the curse.

I spent ten years turning a thug into a top boxer, but he and my wife kicked me out of the game, mocking me for "not understanding business and being outdated."

I didn't argue, and turned around to pick up a homeless man who had fought in underground boxing matches on the roadside.

A year later, the homeless man's apprentice knocked out the defending champion with one punch and won the gold belt; while that ingrate who betrayed me was beaten into a cripple in the underground boxing ring.

The geniuses you all think they are are nothing more than half-finished products under my tutelage!

Seven days before the doomsday outbreak, the wild weeds by the road spoke to me: The zombies are coming.
I rushed home, intending to take my fiancée and flee for our lives.
But outside the door, I overheard her plotting with her boss on the sofa, scheming to drain all my wealth.
"He’s just an orphan with no family or connections. No one would care even if he dies."
I didn’t push the door open.
Instead, I quietly cashed out all my assets overnight and built an impenetrable island fortress without delay.
Seven days later, the zombie hordes surrounded the city.
She and her entire family were chased by the monsters, covered in blood and mangled.
They knelt frantically kowtowing and begging for help right outside my explosion-proof gate.
I coldly locked the door tight.
"You were right," I said. "No one really cares if you die. Just go in peace."

Intro: I'm an S-Class superhuman, but I was locked in a basement for five full years, subjected to inhuman abuse and torment. All they wanted was to drain my blood and energy dry. I once believed that if I could just endure it all, I would see my family again. Until my wife Valen's voice came through the intercom and revealed that it was all a lie. I will turn my fury into strength and tear it all apart with my own hands.

At minus sixty degrees Celsius, my girlfriend of three years and my childhood friend teamed up to push me out of the bomb shelter and beat me to death in the snowstorm.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back fifteen days before the extreme cold arrived, and my phone had a new "Doomsday Farm" app.

Rapidly growing mutant crops and an infinitely large, temperature-controlled warehouse became my biggest trump card for rebirth.

Faced with two people who came with luggage under the pretense of "accompanying me" but actually plotted to seize the property rights of my underground research institute, I calmly turned them away, sold all my properties in the city, and headed straight for the suburbs with a huge sum of money.

Within fifteen days, I welded the abandoned research institute into a heavily insulated steel fortress.

When the epic cold wave arrived ahead of schedule, those who had betrayed me were trapped in an old apartment without water or gas, tearing each other apart over a tattered quilt.

I'm sitting in a 20-degree underground farm, eating hot stewed beef, drinking hand-drip coffee, and quietly watching them on the monitor slowly turn into ice sculptures.

In this life, having let go of my desire to help others, I simply want to live comfortably in this Ice Age.

Fourteen years. I guarded every line on the East Coast for Victoria's crime family. Six weeks. A young newcomer took away every ounce of my authority. Victoria said, "There's no need to be so sensitive." I understood her choice. I took off my ring in the council chamber, and walked away.

In order to prolong the life of my supposedly sick "white moonlight" (my love interest), my wife forced me onto the operating table and removed my kidney while I was still alive.

To force me to leave with nothing, she even cut off my mother's medication, coldly declaring, "Your mother is just a liability that deserves to be optimized."

She thought I would wag my tail and beg for mercy like a stray dog.

Little did she know, suffering from single kidney failure, I transformed myself into the deadliest viral code before my death, dragging her business empire and that male mistress into an inescapable hell.

On the day the truth came to light, the once-powerful tech queen went completely mad. She squandered her fortune, kneeling in the frost of the morgue, kowtowing and weeping blood, begging me to look at her one last time. But she couldn't find a single hair of mine.

Because I had already made a will, ordering my remains to be cremated as high-risk medical waste.

She treated me like dirt when she was alive, and after she died, I found her disgusting and didn't even bother to leave her a handful of ashes.

To honor a vow to "protect her for a lifetime," I used my flesh and blood to shield her from a fatal impact in a deadly car crash. My heart was severely shattered, leaving me barely clinging to life with a pacemaker.

Concealing my identity for five years, I single-handedly dragged her from bankruptcy and crowned her the new royalty of Wall Street.

Yet, on the eve of her IPO, just to curry favor with a powerful tycoon, she knocked away my life-saving medicine, forced me to kneel and shine shoes in public, and finally kicked my gravely ill body out into a sub-zero Brooklyn blizzard.

My dying pleas for help only earned her impatient mockery: "Save your playing dead tricks for the ghosts."

When my pacemaker completely shattered in the howling snow, that submissive Arthur died.

Armed gunships descended, and a military-grade tactical heart violently rebooted my pulse! When I opened my eyes again, I was the Supreme Commander who cast terror over the global underground.

When I crushed her capital empire with a single hand and the truth was finally revealed, she knelt in the muddy rain, frantically slapping her own face, sobbing and screaming to give her life back to me.

I flicked the ash from my cigar, my gaze as cold as looking at trash: "My wife died in the blizzard. You are just a stranger who crawled up by stepping on half my life."

Here is the English translation, tailored to match the gritty, dramatic, and satisfying tone typical of apocalyptic revenge web novels:

In my previous life, I was drained to the bone by the so-called "Doomsday Evolution System," forced to watch as my best friend and fiancée stepped over my corpse to scavenge my supplies.

When I opened my eyes again, I had regressed to exactly three days before the apocalypse. When that faint blue, glowing "cheat" materialized once more, I decisively took a step back, watching my enemies fanatically claim it for themselves. They thought they had grasped the key to ruling the doomsday. Little did they know, they had just swallowed a parasite that would devour its host.

Then, the extreme cold descended, and toxic spores blotted out the sky.

Using my knowledge of the future, I struck a deal with a female black-market boss, packing an underground bunker with tons of supplies and heavy firepower. Sipping hot coffee in front of the control room monitors, I sat back and enjoyed the show. I watched my enemies be systematically stripped of their sanity, sacrifice their companions, and ultimately degenerate into mindless, mutated lumps of flesh driven only by base instincts.

In this man-eating apocalypse, I refuse to touch any bizarre parasitic "gifts." Thick alloy doors and an endless supply of ammunition—that is the only true law of survival in the wasteland.

On the eve of the apocalypse, I awakened a survival system: send me $5,000, and the sender can unlock a safehouse and awaken a life-saving ability.
The first person I told was Chloe, my girlfriend of three years. In return, she humiliated me in public and cheated on me without a shred of remorse.
That was the moment I finally gave up. The "nice guy" she had drained dry was dead for good.
One month later, the zombie horde arrived right on schedule. For old times' sake, I saved her one last time. And she repaid me by shoving me straight into the jaws of the mutated dead so she could save herself.
What she didn't know... was that I wasn't the only one who had awakened powers.

To atone for my fallen brothers, I concealed my identity and willingly played the role of a worthless loser in the eyes of my influencer wife.

I swallowed her endless abuse and the humiliation from her wealthy new suitor. I thought that by dragging my dignity through the mud, I could finally buy peace for my soul.

Until that day. Desperate for livestream traffic, she and her crew violently smashed down my door. She shattered the pocket watch left behind by my comrade's mother. She threw the casualty list—stained with the blood of my Special Forces unit—into the filthy water, trampling it underfoot while hundreds of thousands of netizens mocked me online.

They had no idea that every single name on that ledger was once a sharp blade that guarded this nation.

Staring at the soiled hero's insignia, I finally realized that submission would never bring redemption. I wiped the mud from the relics and dialed a long-dormant encrypted terminal:

"Operation 'Reckoning'—initiate full activation."

Since a shield can no longer protect my faith, it is time to draw the sword of judgment.

My wife was forced to don a wedding dress to marry my sworn enemy, while my three-year-old daughter was locked in an iron cage suspended above the raging sea.

And I, the dignified Commander-in-Chief of the Blackwater Fleet, was forced to wear a dog collar, kneeling on broken glass and licking up red wine like a crippled stray dog.
All because embedded in their necks were biological bombs, the detonator held in the hands of my enemy.

The elites of the entire island ruthlessly mocked my cowardice, trampling me underfoot in ultimate humiliation.

That was until the climax of the maritime wedding, when my enemy smugly pressed the detonator, only for the collars to flash a safe green light—the full-frequency signal decryption was complete.
Amidst the dead silence of the crowd, I snapped the forged steel chains binding me and slowly stood tall.

The next second, ten nuclear-powered submarines violently breached the ocean surface, and tens of thousands of heavily armored death squads descended from the sky.

Looking at my enemy, now terrified to the point of incontinence and shattering his own knees to frantically kowtow and beg for mercy, I picked up that very dog chain and slipped it around his neck.

When the apocalypse arrived, my girlfriend, driven by vanity, exposed my unlimited resource space and incited starving people to kill me and feed me to the zombies, while she herself stepped on my flesh and blood to become the "savior goddess".
But she didn't know that I mutated amidst the pile of corpses and awakened into the only zombie tyrant.
I corrupted the space, cut off food supplies, led a horde of tens of thousands of zombies to besiege the city, and threw a bounty at the starving mob: "Use her flesh and blood to exchange for a bite to eat."
Watching the once-lofty Mother Teresa torn to pieces, kneeling at my feet weeping and begging for mercy, I laughed. Moral blackmail? Sorry, I'm the Zombie King now.

While I was being kidnapped, tortured, and murdered in the horse stable of our own family farm, my all-powerful chaebol fiancée was helping my green tea younger brother try on wedding attire.
Before dying, with my broken, blood-stained finger, I dialed the last desperate call for help.
On the other end of the phone, her tone was filled with scorn and impatience: "Vincent, can't you even tolerate a little grievance from your younger brother? Let's just cancel the engagement, and I'll replace you with him as the groom."
Later, I truly died.
My soul drifted in mid-air, watching coldly as the whole family thought I was faking death to make a scene. My older sister even kicked over my disfigured body on the haystack in disgust: "Get up right now, stop pretending to be pitiful here!"
Until the flashlight's beam completely illuminated my ghastly, rigid face, and the shattered phone screen, still stuck on the moment she hung up, clutched tightly in my dead hand...
That forever aloof, arrogant female CEO finally went weak in the knees, kneeling in the foul-smelling, blood-soaked filth, and utterly lost her mind.

My wife had an affair.
Not only that, she casually indulged her lover over the phone, allowing him to crush the bones of my right hand, known as the "Hand of God," right in front of our six-year-old child, with a stomp of his shoe. I could never hold a tool again.
Natalie thought I was just a poor, pathetic loser earning a dead-end salary, so she brazenly let her gigolo trample all over me.
But what she had no idea of was that her proud identity as a transnational female CEO was merely a toy casually tossed to her by the top old-money family I belong to in New York.
When dozens of bulletproof armored vehicles smashed through the gates and my father, the patriarch, descended like the god of death, her arrogant self finally crumbled like a stray dog.
She screamed and jumped into the icy, bone-chilling lake to retrieve the diamond ring I had discarded, wailing and begging to chop off her own hand to compensate me.
But I just held the stunning British Duchess in my arms, watching coldly as she fell into an abyss of eternal damnation.
This love, tainted with shit, whoever wants it can have it!

In the seventh year of being a stay-at-home husband, I discovered the son I cherished as the most precious treasure in my life was actually the illegitimate child of my wife and her male best friend.
To conceal the scandal of her infidelity, my CEO wife, worth millions, joined forces with her male best friend in a grand deception. They single-handedly destroyed my artistic career, transforming me into a free nanny raising their illegitimate child.
Upon learning the truth, I didn't lose my composure.
I calmly presented the divorce papers and the paternity test report proving no biological relation, then turned and walked away without looking back.
Later, that ever-lofty wife, the one who had once publicly doused me with ice water for her male best friend, was utterly consumed by regret and fury.
She kicked the scoundrel to the curb. In front of a crowd, she pressed a switchblade to her own throat, casting aside all dignity to kneel on the ground, crying and begging me to look at her just once more.
I didn't even blink. My voice was as cold as ice. "If you want to die, do it outside. Don't ruin my mood for coffee."

"Kill the bitch!" Someone in the crowd yells.
I use my hands to shield my head as whips and blows rain on me.
My screams fall on deaf ears as more kicks and punch land on every exposed part of my body.
"Stop!" prince Evan's unmistakable authoritative voice roars and the mob immediately scatters away from me.
He doesn't sound as pissed as before. Did he learn the truth?
"Give the girl a quick death!"
Oops! Guess nothing changed.
The soldier plunges the sword deep into my chest.
My life doesn't flash in front of my eyes. I only feel like I am falling into a dark void.


All was well with Talia's life until her mother was falsely accused of attempting to murder the powerful Alpha Prince. Evan, the future Alpha King, is the perfect embodiment of male beauty and royal grace. But Talia was utterly disappointed when he fails to see past his mother's evil lies.

To save her mother's life, Talia boldly demanded to be punished in place of her mother. She died under the sword of the soldier. But the moon Goddess had another plan for her. She was reborn three years later and determined to take revenge on all of her enemies.

But real shock hits her when she finds out that she is King Evan's mate, the same man who doomed her family. Will she accept his help in getting them back?

Played by four bullies

“S-stop,” I said trying to get him to stop. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to fall into their trap and be their little toy again. This is the opposite of laying low.
He chuckled darkly and picked up speed with his fingers sending me over the edge in no time. I gripped his hair so hard as I came all over his fingers. As soon as I got down from my high, he let go letting my fall to the ground. I could hear him licking his fingers in the dark.
“Don’t do that again. I am not the same girl I used to be.”
He chuckled again as he started to open the door. “Mine,” was all he said as he left out the door.

Several years ago, I was trapped by four bullies. Zander, Saint, Royal and Cyrus. I am their little toy. They can play me at their will.
Now, I am back and get in the same university with them again.

Zander is the football captain, Cyrus is a basketball player. Saint and Royal are also campus stars.
Should I stay away from them or enjoy playing with them? Or revenge on the boys bullying me?

"You're beautiful, Amelia," he said with cool assessment, "but there's something in your bearing. You're definitely not as simple as you pretend to be."
I tilted my head with feigned innocence. "What exactly are you implying?"
"I witnessed your performance during this morning's exhibition game," Jason said. "With abilities like that, I could arrange much better opportunities for your development."
Recruit me? How laughable. If he knew my true identity, he wouldn't be saying such things.

On the surface, Amelia is a college student who has just returned to America, but in reality, she is the world's youngest and most deadly assassin. When a mysterious agent infiltrates her base and steals a top-secret file, she must personally retrieve it.
This pursuit forces her to return to the family she abandoned years ago. Here, she must not only face her hypocritical parents and the fake sister who has always been her enemy, but also recover the stolen files without exposing her true identity.
However, Jason, the agent who stole the files, possesses a pair of unforgettable green eyes—eyes that belong to her childhood savior, someone who should have died long ago. When Jason proposes a deal to her, Amelia realizes this might be her only chance to get close to the truth.

Can Amelia complete her mission before Jason uncovers her true identity? And what connection does Jason have to her savior?

Alessandra is the daughter of the leader of one of the strongest mafia families, Valentino Benetti. She wants to leave the life of the underworld, but her father won't let her go. Since she's the only daughter after her older brothers died in a shooting with the Romano family, one of the rival families, she's now next in line to rule the family. Her father teaches her to be ruthless, but it's not who she truly is. In all actuality, she wants the family reign to end with her father. After numerous failed attempts at leaving, her father finally decided to assign a bodyguard to her. Not only to protect her, but to prevent her from running away ever again. Their first meeting is the start of something new in her life; A change that changes Alessandra's life forever.

Off to the human world, I could pretend to be just an ordinary girl with ordinary hormonal girl problems.


As everyone knew, I would be the one to replace my father as the future Luna and leader of the underground workings of the city. I had a front-row seat to the back-alley politics of the city.

The reality is for a wolf at seventeen, your world is never the same. It can be a lot of pressure. Even more so when you are the daughter of the alpha and are the future Luna of the pack.


Off to the human world where I could forget about all the mating stuff and pretend to be just an ordinary girl with ordinary hormonal girl problems.


Jackson Douglas was the town's bad boy, right down to his slick black hair, leather jacket, and boots. Pulling right up on the sidewalk was a primer black muscle car. Clearly, it had a lot of time, but into the motor and parts under the hood. V8 from the sound of the engine even in Idol.


"Thanks, but I think I’ll just call an Uber.” I turned to walk away but he caught my arm. “First off I have your phone, secondly you really do want to get in the car with me so I can get you home safely.” All of a sudden, looking in his eyes I wanted to do exactly that. All the irritation and creeps I was getting off our city’s bad boy were gone. I felt relaxed. Whatever was happening it didn’t seem to have complete control over my mouth though. “Fine, anywhere but home though and I will find something to stab you with.” With a huge smile now plastered on his face he simply said “Deal.” and we walked to his car. I opened the door so I could slide in. Oddly gentleman-like for the bad boy I thought, and it made me giggle. This was not good at all.


Darkness fell around us. The danger creeped in like a fog making it almost impossible to see a way out. This was it I thought, the end. The end of everything I know, everything I want. At that thought anger like I had never felt before burned within me like the fires of hell willing me to unleash them. To allow them to burn this world to the ground and everyone who dares to harm those that I loved. I no longer wanted to hold the fire back. I wanted to let it loose. Allow it to consume me. Looking around at those who were my friends and family, those who were here to fight with me who barely knew me, just believed in what we were here to fight for. I let go. I released the flames of rage. I felt the burn as they took over my thoughts and body doing what had to be done...

Kidnapping trauma leaves Camilla Alistair trapped in a ravenous, unrelenting sex addiction—one only Danieru Malaike, heir to the Malaike mafia, agrees to feed. Their deal is cold: he’ll sate her insatiable cravings, she’ll help him seize the family inheritance. Their contractual marriage simmers with feral, urgent passion… until Danieru’s first love, the scheming Rachel, returns as his secretary, hell-bent on stealing him back. Camilla’s pregnancy fans her paranoia, and a brutal clash leaves Rachel bloodied—shattering their fragile bond for good. But the final blow? Gut-wrenching CCTV of Danieru and Rachel in a fiery tryst. Broken, Camilla flees… straight into the arms of Zinan Xrezone. The stoic Xrezone family leader has loved her silently for years, guarding her from the shadows—and now, he’s not letting her go.

"After Being Rejected by My Fated Mate, I Mated with His Uncle..."
For years, Seraphina prayed to the Moon Goddess that the one she loved would be her fated mate. Finally, her prayers seemed answered. But just as Seraphina eagerly awaited Alpha Orion to declare her as his mate, he publicly rejected her, choosing instead to take Elara- the very one who had bullied Seraphina for years- as his chosen mate and Luna.
Shattered, Seraphina left the pack, determined to rebuild her life with the new pack. There, she uncovered a stunning secret- her long-lost twin sister, Lilith, and the incredible, untapped powers they shared. With her true strength finally awakening, Seraphina was no longer the broken girl abandoned by her Alpha.
As Alpha Orion spiraled into chaos under Luna Elara's manipulative control, Seraphina rose from the shadows, a force to be reckoned with. She forged an alliance with Alpha Orion's uncle- her second chance mate- and reclaimed the power that was rightfully hers.

"Sign your name, and seal your fate," he whispered, his voice dripping with seduction, as he slid the marriage document across the table. Cassandra's eyes widened, her heart racing with trepidation, as she gazed at the paper that would bind her to this enigmatic stranger.

"I promise you, my dear, a life of revenge and redemption," he coaxed, his piercing gaze burning into her soul. "But first, you must sign."

Cassandra's hand trembled as she reached for the pen, her mind screaming warnings of danger and deceit. Yet, something about his words resonated deep within her, fueling a hunger for vengeance against the Cross family, who had wronged her so brutally.

With a deep breath, she signed her name, and her fate was sealed.

"Now, my dear, prepare yourself for a journey of no return," he murmured, his dark smirk hinting at the destruction that was to come.

A year passed, and the Cross family thought they had finally escaped the wrath of Cassandra. But little did they know, a hurricane was brewing, and she was its eye, ready to unleash a storm of fury and devastation upon them.

With her billionaire husband by her side, Cassandra returned, her presence striking fear into the hearts of the Cross family. She single-handedly dismantled their empire, her plans for revenge meticulously crafted to leave them in ruins.

And when the time was right, she orchestrated a grand CEO's party, a stage for her triumphant return. The Cross family, once so proud and powerful, now cowered before her, their eyes wide with terror, as they realized too late that they had underestimated the wrath of a woman scorned.

How would the Cross family survive the fury of Cassandra's return? Only time would tell, but one thing was certain – the storm had arrived.

I melt into this stranger's chest, my fingers fumbling with the remaining buttons of his shirt. "Someone drugged my drink. Please help me."
His voice drops to a low, dangerous register. "Do you understand what you're doing?"
"Please..." I peel his shirt open. "I need you to fuck me..."

My name is Cherry, and my life changed forever the night I was drugged and hooked up with a mysterious stranger.
I thought I'd never see him again, but when I'm summoned to meet my arranged fiancé from a powerful crime family, I discover my savior is Nicholas Salvatore—the ruthless mafia boss and my intended groom's uncle.
Now, with just the two of us, he pins me against the wall and kisses me frantically. "You tell me I'm a mistake, and then just show up to meet another man? Is that how you want to play this game, Cherry?"

“Soaking wet for the guy you were about to write up ten minutes ago. The Student Body President is a hypocritical little slut, isn’t she?”


To Whitlock University, I am Tegan Vale: the pristine Senator’s daughter, the untouchable Student Body President, and the blueprint for icy perfection.
To Hayes Ashford, I am nothing but a masterpiece of sin.
He is the university’s brutal hockey captain. A merciless legacy who rules the campus from the shadows. We were supposed to loathe each other. But one reckless, hate-fueled night blurred the lines, leaving me with a secret that could burn my father’s political empire to the ground.

I am pregnant with the enemy's baby.

I refused to be the girl who traps him. I was ready to take my secret to the grave. But when a ruthless anonymous whistleblower threatens to destroy the hockey team, I am forced to strike a deal with the devil in a jersey.
Hayes agrees to protect my reputation and save the team. But his price is sadistic: For every favor I need, I owe him a night in his bed.
Now, the high-and-mighty Tegan Vale has become the Captain’s personal puck bunny. Bound by a dark obsession, trapped in his orbit, I’m falling for the one man who holds my soul—and my secret—in his calloused hands.
But in a world of vicious elites, the only thing more dangerous than the truth... is the man who owns it.

"Dad please don't do this," She begged in tears.
"Claire darling just be a good girl for Daddy,"
"Dad please," She tried fighting him off her but she received a resounding slap.
"Daddy!" She cried as he ripped off all her clothes…


Claire's parents separated when she was a child. Ellie, her mom, took custody of her, and she remarried to a man she loved.
Claire found happiness once again in a complete family. However, her joy was short lived, and her world crumbled when her mom passed away. What's worse, her biological father refused to fulfill any responsibility.
Once again, she was shattered, but then her stepfather and brother took her in as their own. She thought she could be happy but what happened when she became a sex slave overnight?
Her pride and dignity were ripped off her by her stepfather. And when her so called stepbrother found out about the abuse, he also wanted a taste of her honey pot.
Who would have thought that the people she called family turned out to be demons? Her worst nightmare.
*Who will save her from the clutches of her evil stepfather and brother?
*What happens when she gets sold into slavery by her stepfather?
*And what happens when she gets caught up in a burning romance with her master?

In the depths of the torture room, a soul screamed in agony, his body writhing in pain as the devil, Scarlet, exacted her revenge. Her eyes blazed with a fierce intensity, her beauty twisted by the darkness that consumed her.

"Tell me more about them," she hissed, her voice like a serpent's whisper, as she pierced his thigh with a red-hot rod. The air was heavy with the stench of burning flesh and the sound of his cries echoed through the caverns of hell.

"I don't know anything!" he pleaded, his eyes wide with terror, as he struggled against the heavy chains binding his hands together.

Scarlet's laughter was like a cold breeze, sending shivers down the spine. "I became a devil because of all of you," she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Now, I will use your blood to paint the city of Italy red."

With a swift motion, she raised her sword and severed his left leg, the sound of his screams echoing through the darkness. Scarlet's thirst for revenge had driven her to become a devil, fueled by the pain of her past.

But as she continued her reign of terror, a new challenge emerged. Love came knocking on her door, in the form of two men, each with their own secrets and motives. One, a man, determined to save her from the darkness, and the other, a man, who seemed to understand her pain.

Scarlet found herself torn between her desire for revenge and the possibility of redemption. As she navigated the treacherous landscape of love and hate, she realized that her revenge might come at a higher cost than she had ever imagined.

Will Scarlet succeed in her quest for revenge, or will love and redemption change her course? Can she escape the dangerous love triangle that threatens to consume her, or will she succumb to the darkness that has driven her for so long? The fate of Italy hangs in the balance, as Scarlet's story unfolds.

Warning 18+ only!
“On your knees, Lilith,” light shone in from the crack in the wall, illuminating the mocking grin on his annoyingly perfect face.
I spat defiantly, “It’s Celeste to you.”
“And, no.”
Mischief glinted in his hazel eyes before he placed a strong hand on my head and pushed me to my knees with ease, keeping me down with the weight of his muscled arm.
“I don’t give orders twice,” he grunted, undoing his pants with his other free arm, “Celeste,” his tone dripping with arrogance.
Against my will, arousal stirred in my core as memories of him plunging in and out of my mouth mercilessly a few days ago flashed through my mind’s eye.
“Every word that leaves your lips doesn't count as an order to me, because I’ll never be your subject, nor will you ever be my master,” I challenged fiercely.
The next second, his expression morphed into fury and he let his magnificent length spring free. His hands found my jaw and my watering mouth dropped open of its own accord before he slammed all seven inches down my throat unforgivably.
“I own you, Lilith. I always will.”


He’s a century-old cursed hybrid, and she’s a sea-star; a rare mystical being and the only one who can lift his curse, but he makes an enemy out of her and she refuses.
A one night stand makes their paths cross, and years later, her escape from her captors reunites them.
At first, he hates Celeste’s guts because she refused to break his curse, and she hates his guts even more because he kidnaps her while she’s escaping her guardians, and denies her only family peace in the afterlife.
Slowly, the lines between hatred and desire blur, but betrayal and deceit stirs the mix.