76 Book(s) Related to still beating

Aneska Antheara Willis did not expect that her adoptive parents would use the girl as collateral to replace their biological child who was supposed to marry a billionaire who was a stranger to Aneska. However, by marrying the billionaire, Aneska may be able to get clues that led to the murder of the girl's family seventeen years ago.

Married to Edwin Zeelar, even though only on paper, Aneska is quite attached. Not only emotionally, but also by fate because Edwin was involved in an incident seventeen years ago. But apparently, there was another path that led to the suspect. With the help of Edwin, who often returned home injured, Aneska arrived before the suspect in the murder of her family. What will the girl do? Revenge, or choose another path according to his heart's desires?

Married for four years, Emily remained childless. A hospital diagnosis plunged her life into hell. Unable to conceive? But her husband was rarely home during these four years, so how could she get pregnant?
Emily and her billionaire husband were in a contractual marriage; she had hoped to win his love through effort. However, when her husband appeared with a pregnant woman, she despaired. After being kicked out, homeless Emily was taken in by a mysterious billionaire. Who was he? How did he know Emily? More importantly, Emily was pregnant.

I donated a kidney to my adopted sister.

Seven days later, I lay on the cold hospital bed, listening to my fiancé and family laughing down the hall.

They were popping champagne to celebrate my adopted sister's discharge.

No one remembered I had just had surgery. No one remembered my nut allergy.

When someone handed me a plate of almonds, I smiled.

I shoved them into my mouth, handful after handful, and swallowed them down. Then I told them I was done fighting for their love.

My fiancé demanded I postpone our wedding. My brother beat me until I bled and locked me on the rooftop to die.

After being abandoned eighty-eight times, I finally learned how to love myself—by cutting everyone who failed me out of my life.

A horde of 100,000 mutated beasts besieged the city, and a ten-meter-tall abyssal wolf pressed its claws against my throat.
My enemy, riding on the wolf's back, laughed maniacally, threw down the chains, and ordered me to kneel and surrender immediately.
The fortress garrison closed their eyes in despair. But looking at that gaping maw so close to my face, I let out a long sigh of relief, even laughing aloud.
"What are you laughing at, facing certain death?!" she shrieked.
"I'm laughing at your pathetic stupidity." I gently crushed a poison capsule in my sleeve. "You really think I threw down all my weapons and walked out of the city gates to face this 100,000-strong army to surrender?"
"That's because if the distance exceeds three meters, my genetic virus can't be precisely injected into this beast's lungs."

After two years of marriage, I humbled myself to the dust, only to be called "scheming" by him. In his eyes, I was just a woman who crawled into his bed through dirty tricks, using children as tools, never comparing to his pitiful "sister-in-law."

When he disgustedly tore my clothes and roughly pressed me down, I tremblingly told him: "I'm pregnant!" But he sneered, saying I was acting. Even after I lost the child, he was still happily chatting with the perpetrator's family.

Finally, I was tired and exhausted. All my love and endurance meant nothing to him.

When I threw the divorce papers in his face, I thought it was the end, but it was just the beginning. When he gripped my wrist tightly, pinned me against the car door, and sealed my lips with a punishing, possessive kiss, I shamefully felt something... What does this man really want?

A zombie outbreak occurred, and my brother and I were both reborn ten minutes before the disaster struck.
This time, he seized the initiative, stealing the two high-level god-tier abilities, [Flame] and [Hardening], and casually pushed me out of the security door, locking me in the zombie-infested corridor.
Through the security door, he arrogantly declared, "In my past life, you always stood in front of me; in this life, I'll take the mark of survival."
In his eyes, the [Tracking] and [Preset] abilities the system assigned me were nothing but useless pieces of paper.
He thought I would die a horde of zombies.
But he didn't know that in the hands of a top hunter, seemingly useless skills could weave a hellish web that made life unbearable and death unthinkable.

Mary is called upon by her twin sister to act like her before her mate so she can attend an ex-lover's night birthday party at a club.
This isn't supported as she is the Alpha Prince's chosen mate.
Mary complies just to help her sister, but while being with Alpha George, her brother-in-law, things get rosy.
Without her realizing, she falls for him. They make out.
George soon discovers who she is same time he discovers his mate had gotten into a lot of mess outside from an affair.
He has no choice but to make Mary his pretense mate till everything goes alright.
But will everything go alright?
And if it doesn't, what will be Mary's fate in his life?

"I love you, Winnie. Your sister Lottie is nothing more than a substitute for you. You know what? Whenever I'm sleeping with her, I will imagine that I was with you..."

I'm Lottie Hendrix, naively holding onto the belief that my boyfriend, Lewis loves me.

It took me a year to figure out that he is only with me because of my resemblance to my sister, Winnie Hendrix.

To get back at him, I didn't just limit myself to openly flirting with all his friends; I even went on to date his uncle, Alfie.

At the annual charity gala, I stood in the spotlight as the student representative.

My roommate, Harper, suddenly stormed the stage, publicly accusing me of being a sugar baby who seduced her father.

"That diamond necklace around her neck was bought with my dad's money!"

I instantly became public enemy number one. The crowd erupted into a frenzy of boos, and the administration, caving to the pressure, prepared to expel me on the spot.

Facing the out-of-control screaming and the countless live-stream cameras shoved in my face, I pulled out my phone and dialed the so-called "sugar daddy" right there in front of everyone.

"Dad," I said coldly. "Since when did I get a new 'sister'?"

In my past life, my Mafia Don husband left me and our unborn baby to burn just to save my half-sister.

Reborn, I watched him crush my fingers in a door to protect her once again.

"Hurt her, and we get a divorce," he sneered.

He thought the threat would break me. He didn't know his signature was already on the divorce papers hidden in my bag.

On the day of their lavish wedding, I took the hand of his deadliest rival, looked down from a helicopter, and pressed the detonator to his estate.

My daughter was taken by rogues, and my husband didn't care.

But when his childhood friend went missing in another attack, he spared no expense searching for her.

I searched for our daughter alone. When I died in the wilderness, I'd been looking for fifty years.

As I bled out that day, I had only one thought—I'm sorry, Lily. I'm so sorry I couldn't find you.

Then I opened my eyes and found myself fifty years in the past, the night before the nightmare began.

Ten years loving Liam Rockefeller cost me everything.

He said the football team jumped him—so I charged in and took the punches. He sobbed that his stepbrother would destroy him at Yale—so I ripped up my acceptance letter. He held me at midnight whispering "I'm so lucky to have you"—and I thought that meant forever.

Three months later, I heard him laughing in the locker room—laughing about me.

"Iris is like a fucking puppy, so easy to fool. Now that the Yale spot's open, Emily can go with me."

The bullying was staged. The tears were fake. Those intimate embraces—just tools to control me while he fucked his side piece.

He thought I'd still stand in front of him even with a broken nose. He thought I'd never wise up.

I wised up.

In his stepbrother Sebastian's bed.

"Turn on the livestream, let everyone see how wet and slutty my wife's pussy gets when she's ruined." My husband sneered, ruthlessly spreading my trembling legs on the tattoo bed.

I sobbed and thrashed, but his strong hands pinned my wrists. The buzzing needle pierced the sensitive flesh of my private area, vibrating against my clitoris as he forced a succubus mark onto me. I let out a sharp, pathetic moan, my body involuntarily slicking with a mix of blood and arousal under the agonizing pain.

By the time the needle carved the eighteenth humiliating word into my bare, heaving breasts, my mind was completely broken. He just wiped the blood from my nipples and left to fuck his pregnant mistress.

He thought I was just a toy. At his wedding banquet, he threw me to a pack of hungry men. "Do whatever you want with her holes. Even if it's a gangbang, I take no responsibility." Disgusting hands immediately groped my bare thighs, brutally ripping my dress apart to expose my tattooed chest. Rough fingers pinched my nipples and shoved into my dripping core, making me scream in despair.

But I didn't die there. I tanked his company and fell into the arms of his biggest rival.

When my ex-husband finally realized the mistress's baby wasn't his, he called me, sobbing and begging. I just pressed the phone to my ear, gasping loudly as Tristan's thick, hard cock thrust deep into my tight, wet pussy.

"Ah... fuck, Tristan, deeper..." I moaned shamelessly into the receiver, hearing my ex-husband's breathless silence on the other end. "Henry," I panted, riding my new lover hard, "Your empire is dead, and so are we."

It was the kind of cold that seeped into your bones.
In my past life, I was locked in the abandoned freezer beneath St. Jude Preparatory Academy.
Outside the door stood my biological brother Spencer, along with Landon—my boyfriend of three years. And between them, wearing Landon's oversized football jacket, was my stepsister Lacey.
"Blythe, just admit you bullied me. Post an apology video to the whole school, and Spencer will let you out." Lacey's voice trembled, fake tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.
Spencer's voice cut through the metal door like ice:
"Blythe, you brought this on yourself. You've been terrorizing Lacey at school, pushed her to the edge. Maybe some time in there will teach you what decency looks like."
Landon's voice dripped with disappointment: "Jesus, Blythe. I thought I knew you. This isn't who you are."
I pounded on the iron door until my fists were raw, screaming until my voice gave out.
I told them the truth—that I never touched Lacey. That she was the one forcing girls to their knees in the bathroom. That she stole my exam. That every shred of "evidence" was manufactured.
No one believed me.
I froze to death in that sub-zero hellhole.
As the cold claimed me, staring at my blue-purple fingers, all I felt was pure, burning hate.
Then I opened my eyes again—back to the day it all began.

Nineteen times. That's how many times Lucas promised to marry me, only to leave me standing alone because of her.
Today was supposed to be our day. But as I stood in the biting cold outside the restaurant, watching him carefully help Selena into his Maybach, the marriage application still tucked in my purse, I finally understood—that "someday" would never come.
"Let's reschedule the registration, okay?" he'd said without even looking at me.
I walked straight to HR and submitted my resignation. Then I accepted the offer from the Morinetti family—his sworn enemies.
As I boarded my flight to the West Coast, my phone exploded with messages.
"We agreed to go to City Hall today. Where are you?"
I glanced at the screen one last time, then powered it off.
"We're done."

Betrayed to death by my own brother, I was reborn before the apocalypse descended.
He rushed to seize the god-tier [Copy] talent first, leaving the trash [Purification] talent for me.
He thought that with this talent, he'd have no worries and reign supreme in the apocalypse.
Meanwhile, I quietly closed the last door of my fortress.
He didn't know that his prized copying ability had a fatal flaw.

She knelt in the pouring rain, pounding on my glass door, covered in mud, her voice hoarse from shouting. I stood inside, holding Lily's hand. She called my name, over and over, like calling a dead person. I lowered my head and said to Lily, "Come on, Daddy will take you to dinner." Then I turned and closed the door. From beginning to end, I didn't look at her once. Not because I still hated her. It was because she meant nothing to me anymore. And that woman didn't know—three years ago, when she threw me away like trash, I had already learned not to cling to trash.

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!

Three months into their marriage, Stella Dawson had been diligently playing the role of a delicate, spoiled flower—pushing every button she could—until she finally drove the CEO to the brink of madness.
Alexander Sterling coldly tossed the divorce papers at her. "Let's get divorced."
Tears welled up in Stella's eyes, but inwardly, she was grinning from ear to ear. Good riddance to being the CEO's wife! I'm going back to being the richest woman alive!
Alexander was certain he’d never regret his decision.
That is, until he saw his ex-wife surrounded by admirers, amassing wealth, and dominating every industry she touched. Power players from all fields bowed before her, declaring, "Little sister, just say the word, and we’ll take down anyone who dares mess with you!"
Swallowing his pride, Alexander squeezed his way into the crowd of handsome men. "Sweetheart, I take it back. Let’s get back together."

After sleeping for a thousand years, I returned to the ancestral castle that was supposed to be mine.
Only to find my throne torn down and turned into an auction block for the black market, my territory carved up clean by traitors.
And my only pureblood descendant in this world was actually being auctioned off like livestock—covered in blood, chained up with a cheap dog collar around his neck.
The entire room of nobles and elites mistook me for the lowest kind of half-blood trash, mocking me as a rat too stupid to know when he was dead.
The usurper, eager to curry favor with the Abyss, shouted that he would drain me dry and offer my blood as a tribute to the three pureblood princes deep within the Abyss.
Then the void split open, and those three supreme princes—the untouchable monsters the world worshiped—truly descended.
Under the horrified gaze of more than a thousand nobles and elites, those three ancient monsters threw themselves at my feet, scrambling and crawling, wailing in terror without even daring to raise their heads:
"Your unworthy descendants... welcome the Ancestor's return!!!"

Detective Aria Kane tracks down a murderer who decorates each corpse with flawless origami cranes. There were eight victims. identical cut. The same position. The same bird. Home is indicated by the clues. This killer is the subject of a thriller written by her fiancé, Ethan Cross. While she sleeps, he folds cranes. He is aware of details that only a murderer should know. Like a signature, he says, "Love you." She lies beside him every night. She checks the locks every morning. She discovers the pen in the hand of a deceased woman. Silver. engraved. The one she handed him. He claims to have lost it. She locates the pictures. victims in his life's background. months in advance. Grinning. alive. He was present. observing. Awaiting. She looks at his schedule. gym. Back off. book release.
There is a body for every date. Each alibi is a present. At three in the morning, she looks through his desk. discovers a drawer that is locked. locates a box. Nine birds of different colors. For every life. Two remain blank. Now he leaves cranes on the counter. She pretends to sleep as she unfolds and refolds them. He is aware that she is watching. He wants her to locate it. As she lies beside him, she can feel his weight causing the mattress to dip. His breath has a coffee scent to it. He whispers to her. As if it were the final thing Aria would ever hear, good night. The crime scene is the marriage. His desk contains the proof. The next victim has already been selected. All she needs to do is decide to arrest him. or turn into the last chapter.On the nightstand is the next crane. Yesterday, it wasn't there.

To annul the engagement, the aloof heiress of a wealthy family spent three years planning thirteen accidents to try and kill me.
Car accident, falling object, poisoning... I survived covered in blood, only to be met with her disgusted question: "How come you're still alive?"
She let her scheming childhood sweetheart crush my father's ashes, and even personally drained my last remaining blood to save me, all for her sweetheart's self-inflicted injury.
She thought I would be like a dog, clinging to her side forever without any boundaries.
Until that day, I calmly handed over the annulment agreement, clutching the diagnosis of late-stage brain cancer, and completely disappeared from her world.
Later, when she finally found out the truth, she searched the world frantically, only to find my emaciated, cold corpse.
That arrogant and haughty young lady has completely collapsed.
She personally sent her childhood sweetheart to hell, knelt before my body wearing a veil, and desperately raised a gun:
“Ivan, walk slowly on your way to the underworld... I’m giving my life for you.”

Luna Elara Valen’s world shatters when Alpha Thorne publicly claims Vespera his rejected true mate as his second Luna. Betrayed, branded barren, and humiliated before the pack, Elara flees into the frozen wilds. There, the Dark Lycan "Draven", exiled rebel king who defied the Moon Goddess finds her. One touch ignites a forbidden bond. Thorne hunts her in guilt and fear. War brews. Packs mobilize. Vengeance or forgiveness? Elara stands between two mates, two fates. Choose wrong and everything burns.

His cheeks are turning red, I can tell he’s feeling uncomfortable. Fire is spitting out of Fiona’s eyes: “How dare you! That was all my clothes and personal stuff. Don’t say you touched it, you pervert..”

Hunter is holding on to the blanket as strong as he can and looks away. “I can give it back to you, I - I promise that I didn’t mean to touch it. I got mesmerized by the scent on it, I had to smell it.” he says, softly.

Her hand flies through the air ‘till it meets his face. The sound of her hand slamming his cheek, fades in the air. Hunter gasps for air, and looks back at her face, confused. I can see in his face that something has changed. His eyes look determined now. He grabs Fiona’s right wrist and growls: “MINE!”
Mating season is coming again.

After the war, werewolves are fighting extinction. To help the werewolves survive, the nature made them a ‘mating season’. That means there'll be three or four weeks a year, male werewolves are able to smell every fertile she-wolf in the area.
Indy, a 22, and probably the oldest, virgin werewolf. She doesn’t fit the physical description of werewolves. Being the oldest virgin, Indy was trying to find her fated mate. She's hiding herself with another shewolf - Fiona - during mating season, but hiding gets more difficult every year. This year, they have to find new hiding spots.
And when they noticed that they’re not alone in the new hiding spot, things got really interesting.

Coralyn Calder has never had the luxury of slowing down.
Between crushing responsibility and a mother she’s spent years saving from herself, survival has always come before desire.
This Christmas, she chooses herself—for once.
A sponsored escape to a lavish French resort promises distance from her past, silence from her guilt, and a brief illusion of peace. But fate has other plans. A ruined dress, a missed reservation, and a raging snowstorm leave her stranded… and sharing a suite with Orion Merrick.
He’s dangerous in a way Coralyn isn’t prepared for—quiet, controlled, devastatingly handsome. A single father with a guarded heart, a watchful gaze, and a presence that strips her bare without a single touch.
What begins as forced proximity turns intimate fast. Stolen moments. Lingering looks. His sharp-tongued daughter playing matchmaker. Nights that blur boundaries and make promises neither of them should want.
Then her past arrives uninvited.
Kade—her obsessive ex—appears at the resort, dragging secrets, violence, and unfinished business behind him. When Coralyn’s mother dies under suspicious circumstances, buried truths rise to the surface, and the holiday fantasy shatters into something lethal.
Because this isn’t just about love anymore.
It’s about survival.
And some Christmas miracles don’t come wrapped in ribbon—
they come wrapped in blood.
Will Coralyn live long enough to claim hers?