1059 Book(s) Related to NOT ME

Three days after the miscarriage, I dragged my body — still not healed — to a rooftop club in Manhattan.
All because tomorrow was Bradley's birthday.
I wanted to buy him a gift. With money I'd earned myself.
But just before I pushed open the door to the VVIP suite, I heard his voice.
"That broke girl from Brooklyn? She was just a bet. A toy I won."
I peered through the crack in the door.
The man who'd shown up every day in grease-stained coveralls, crying about how tight money was — that same man now stood in a tailored suit, a watch on his wrist that cost more than I made in a year.
Someone asked, "So what about your fiancée?"
Bradley laughed — easy, unbothered.
"The wedding's still on. Obviously."
I stood in the hallway, one hand pressed against my stomach, where the ache still hadn't left, and suddenly everything made sense.
Three years of love — fake. His poverty — fake. Even the part where I believed he'd loved me. Had that been fake too?
I didn't cry. I didn't storm in and demand answers.
I just looked down at the birthday gift in my hands.
And in that moment, I made my decision —I was done with him.

TRIGGER WARNING!!!
This story contains themes of obsession, possessiveness, stalking, emotional manipulation, and psychological control. It is unapologetically intense and unsettling in all the right (and wrong) ways.
Be guided.


Eight years ago, Shannon watched her stepbrother get handcuffed and taken to jail for a crime she committed.

He took the fall for it without hesitation. Not because he was noble. God, no. But because obsession looks a lot like love when you're seventeen and scared.

After that night, she never went to visit him in prison, nor did she reply to any of his letters.

She buried him with the past and went on to live a peaceful life without him.

But the past never forgets.

Eight years later, when she was living a simple, peaceful life, had a decent job and a husband who loved her deeply, Shannon's past came knocking at her door.

Strange things start happening... Doors left open. Favorite things mysteriously replaced. Eyes she can't see but feels always watching her.

Everyone says she's paranoid. Everyone says He is still in jail.

No one believes her when she says she had a STALKER.

Her judgment is already upon her because, now, HE is out of prison. And the first place he goes is her doorstep, because he says she owes him her life. And he's come to collect what's his.

How far can Shannon run from a man who never stopped loving her in the most terrifying way?

A man who'd kill anyone, even her husband, just to make her his?

HIS NAME IS KENAI... The Stalker You Never Want To Have.


If you enjoy slow-burn stalker dynamics and morally gray characters, this one's for you.

She never saw it coming. After five years of marriage, it took a DNA test to blow everything up.

The son she raised from birth? Her husband's kid with his ex. And somehow, both of them knew the whole time and said nothing.

It gets worse. She overheard her husband's actual plan: wait for the ex to come back, then push her out of the company "nicely" and hand her five million as a goodbye gift.

Five million? She single-handedly kept that company alive, pouring in her own money and connections to clean up his messes. And that's all she's worth?

She was done. She wanted everything back that was hers.

The ungrateful kid? She's over it. The husband chasing his first love? Good riddance.

But the moment she walked away for real, both of them came running back.

"Baby, please. Just give me one more chance."

She didn't even look up.

For ten years, I've been the biggest joke in Eden Fortress—a madman who draws a broken bow eight thousand times a day.
Duke, the plutocrat's heir, even uses me as cannon fodder bait.
But when the Crystalline Tyrant tears through the earth, when S-rank "savior" Duke pisses himself in terror before the monster, at that moment when the entire fortress waits in despair for death—I draw back that broken bow that's been mocked for ten years.

My eyes can see through the essence of all things, my empty bow can shoot down any existence.
From the beast's maw, one arrow obliterates the plutocrat's heir! From within the monster's belly, one arrow defeats the Mountain Tyrant! Above the fortress, one arrow disables all weaponry!

From bottom-tier waste and cannon fodder to the uncrowned king who brings an entire fortress to its knees—I use absolute strength to tell this world: True power never needs anyone's validation!

Once, I was the Golden Dragon Princess, loved by my family and cherished by the man I would have died for. Then one accusation shattered everything. My dragon core was sealed, and I was cast into the frozen abyss to repent for a crime I never committed. Three years later, I died alone beneath the endless snow. My body was brought back on the day he was supposed to marry another woman. He stared at my lifeless face, trembling. “Seraphina… please wake up.”

Beta Malcolm and I were at the Civil Affairs Bureau, ready to register our marriage. We were just waiting to take the final photo when he got a phone call and left.
He abandoned me right there at the marriage registration office, leaving me stuck in an impossible situation.
I called him—no answer.
I messaged him—no reply.
In the end, I had no choice but to call his childhood sweetheart’s number. Beta Malcolm answered.
“Rowena, can you stop being so annoying? Queenie twisted her ankle—I need to take care of her today. Stop calling and waking her up. We’ll reschedule the registration.”
I bit my lip and murmured into the phone,
“This makes it the seventh time we’ve rescheduled.”
“So what? The Civil Affairs Bureau isn’t going anywhere—it’s not like it’s going to disappear!”
My face was blank, but it felt like my heart was being carved open.
A staff member looked at me with pity and asked,
“Alpha Rowena, are we still doing this?”
I gave a small nod.
“Yes. Let’s go through with it.”

Sean Turner kissed his childhood sweetheart, Mia Moore, right in front of me.
He said he married me for benefits, not love.
He even tried to force me to give Mia my heart.
I agreed.
But after the transplant surgery, he regretted it—while I smiled.

For three years of marriage, I played the perfect, obedient wife.
I married him only because my family once saved his from bankruptcy, and because I had loved him since college.
I thought time would soften his heart.
Then his ex returned, and everything fell apart.
He threw a welcome party for her himself, called me to the office under the pretense of work, then turned around and dismissed me as an eyesore. The whispers in the company cut into me like needles.
That same day, the hospital called. I was eight weeks pregnant with his child. Before the joy could settle, the word divorce fell lightly from his lips.
I asked for three months, just enough time to leave with what little dignity I had left. He agreed without emotion.
Yet after I moved out, he secretly placed me in a luxury apartment and stationed people to watch me day and night.
When I finally hid my pregnancy and resolved to raise the child alone, ready to confront his scheming ex, he cornered me against the wall, eyes red, voice shaking.
“Who gave you permission to walk away with my child?”

I’m the CEO of a tech company—and the creator of our bionic human project.

Three years ago, my wife was dying after a car crash. She begged me to “save” her with my technology. I said yes.

I poured over a hundred million into R&D and built her a bionic body that could last for decades. I covered every checkup, every calibration, every outrageous repair bill.

What I got back was her contempt, her affair, and her reckless abuse of the body I gave her.

I warned her again and again to protect it. She called it control—and called another man freedom.

She even slammed my head into a coffee table to shield him.

That was the moment I decided: no more repairs, no more payments.

She chose her path. She pays for it.

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.

I spent three years chasing the most popular guy on campus, only to be humiliated in front of the entire school.
My foster family treats me like a live-in maid. My biological father wants to drag me back into the gutter. And the loan sharks have made it clear that in three days, I'll be the one paying for my father's debt.
Everyone is waiting to see me fall apart.
What no one knows is that I already dreamed of the worst future waiting for me.

Seven years ago I gave up my inheritance and went door to door with Nolan—a broke director shooting street documentaries—my belly out to here, begging investors to take a chance on him.

Everyone said I'd thrown my life away on him.

Seven years later he's a name everyone knows. And Emily, the first love who walked out when he had nothing, is back in Chicago with her daughter.

That afternoon I came home early and heard him pull five-year-old Ivy into his arms: "You can't ever tell Mom that Daddy and Emily are having a fake wedding."

"But Daddy, Mom will be so sad..."

"Say one word and Daddy won't love you anymore. Got it?"

Her little shoulders shook as she nodded, and nodded.

Out in the hallway, I couldn't even be bothered to cry.

I dialed the number I'd kept blocked for seven years. "Dad—can the family plane still come get me and Ivy?"

Nolan, what you lost wasn't a housewife you could push around. You threw away the only person who ever made you her whole world.

My first love was adopted by our family, and he promised he would always be there for me.
But after my dad passed away in a car accident, I found him with another woman in our bedroom.
He told everyone Caroline was his true love—that he only saw me as a sister—and claimed I was the one who was pestering him.
I was shamed by everyone. The stress gave my mother a stroke, and Caroline even had someone run me over, costing me an eye.
Seven years later, holding flowers, I ran into them outside a convenience store.
Arthur's son looked at me pityingly. "Dad, this lady lost an eye… Is she selling flowers? Should we buy some?"

My malicious stepsister threatened me with my brother's life, forcing me to marry a man rumored to be unspeakably ugly. I had no choice but to comply.
However, after the wedding, I discovered that this man was not ugly at all; on the contrary, he was both handsome and charming, and he was also a billionaire!
（I highly recommend a captivating book that I couldn't put down for three days and nights. It's incredibly engaging and a must-read. The title of the book is "After Car Sex with the CEO." You can find it by searching for it in the search bar.）

Dear readers! If you love this story, check out my other book: His Regret，My Ex Wants Me Back

A month before my wedding, I burned the dress I'd spent a year making with my own hands.
My fiancé stood there with his pregnant mistress wrapped in his arms, sneering at me. "Without me, you're nothing."
I turned around and knocked on the richest man in the city's door. "Mr. Locke, interested in a marriage alliance? I'm offering a hundred-billion-dollar stake—plus a future business empire, free of charge."

Ethan and I have been in a secret marriage for four years. For the sake of his white moonlight, Chloe, he asked me to sign the divorce agreement eight times.
When we first got together, he held me gently and promised to make our marriage public, but he abandoned me again and again for her.
During the first divorce, I stood in the cold wind holding flowers and cried bitterly. On the sixth divorce, he was accompanying her to celebrate her birthday.
My repeated concessions only brought me repeated hurt and betrayal from him. Until this time, I took the initiative to pack my luggage. He thought I would wait for him to remarry, but little did he know that this time, I would leave completely and never look back.

My fiancé was going to humiliate me at our own wedding.

I know because I heard him think it.

I'm Isabella Rossi — mafia heiress, future bride to Lorenzo Falcone, the golden boy of New York's underworld. Our marriage was supposed to unite two empires.

I also have a secret. I can read minds. But only when people want to use me, hurt me, or destroy me.

Lorenzo's thoughts had been silent for three years. I thought that meant he loved me.

The night before the wedding, I finally heard him. The mistress he'd planted in the crowd. The fake pregnancy reveal. The plan to humiliate me at the altar so he could play the victim — and steal my family's power in the chaos.

"You called me baby in bed last night. And today you are getting married?"
I looked up in shock.
Lex was standing right in front of me.
Then it hit me.
Lex was Ian's stepbrother.


Six months earlier, Aria had been drinking with her friend at a bar, complaining about her arranged marriage. Ian, her fiancé, was gentle and steady, but to Aria, he was unbearably dull. She could already see her future stretching out before her. She wanted to be happy at least once before getting married.
That was when Lex walked into her line of sight.
What happened between them began with curiosity and alcohol. More accurately, it never became a real relationship. She used a fake name when she approached him. And when he finally asked if she wanted to be his girl, she lifted her head and kissed him, cutting him off before he could finish. Under the dim lights, she could not see his expression clearly. It did not matter. She only planned to stay with him for a few months. Once Ian returned, she would delete Lex from her alternate account and end whatever this relationship was supposed to be.
But to Aria's surprise, after she deleted Lex and told him they did not need to see each other again, they met once more.
He was no longer just a stranger from a bar.
He was her fiancé's stepbrother.

“Sophie Love's ability to impart magic to her readers is exquisitely wrought in powerfully evocative phrases and descriptions….FOR NOW AND FOREVER is the perfect romance or beach read, with a difference: its enthusiasm and beautiful descriptions offer an unexpected attention to the complexity of not just evolving love, but evolving psyches. It's a delightful recommendation for romance readers looking for a touch more complexity from their romance reads.”--Midwest Book Review (Diane Donovan) “FOR NOW AND FOREVER is a very well written novel, describing the struggle of a woman (Emily) to find her true identity. The author did an amazing job with the creation of the characters and her description of the environment. The romance is there, but not overdosed. Kudos to the author for this amazing start of a series that promises to be very entertaining.”--Books and Movies Reviews, Roberto MattosEmily Mitchell, 35, living and working in New York City, has struggled through a string of failed relationships. When her boyfriend of 7 years takes her out for their long-awaited anniversary dinner, Emily is sure that this time will be different, that this time she will finally get the ring.When he gives her a small bottle of perfume instead, Emily knows the time has come to break up with him—and for her entire life to have a fresh start.Reeling from her unsatisfying, high-pressure life, Emily decides she needs a change. She decides on a whim to drive to her father’s abandoned home on the coast of Maine, a sprawling, historic house where she’d spent magical summers as a child. But the house, long-neglected, is in dire need of repair, and the winter is no time to be in Maine. Emily hasn’t been there in 20 years, when a tragic accident changed her sister’s life and shattered her family. Her parents divorced, her father disappeared, and Emily was never able to bring herself to step foot in that house again.Now, for some reason, with her life reeling, Emily feels drawn to the only childhood place she ever knew. She plans on going just for a weekend, to clear her head. But something about the house, its numerous secrets, its memories of her father, its oceanfront allure, its small-town setting—and most of all, its gorgeous, mysterious caretaker—doesn’t want to let her leave. Can she find the answers she’s been looking for here, in the most unexpected place of all?Can a weekend become a lifetime?FOR NOW AND FOREVER is book #1 in the debut of a dazzling new romance series that will make you laugh, make you cry, will keep you turning pages late into the night—and will make you fall in love with romance all over again.Book #2 will be available soon.

Five years ago, my sister vanished the night before her wedding. She left behind a crying newborn in a crib and a mafia heir on the verge of losing control.

And I was forced into her place—the temporary bride, the contract wife, the whispered “replacement” in every gilded hallway.

I thought I only had to survive five years. Five years to earn what I was promised, and then walk away from this city of shadows and blood.

I clawed my way through bullets, politics, and betrayal. I earned respect. I gained power.
And somehow... I tasted a tenderness I was never meant to have.

Now, with only ten days left on our marriage contract, I thought everything was finally under control. I thought freedom and power were within reach.

Until she came back—wrapped in grace, dripping secrets, smiling as if she owned the world she abandoned.

She looked at me and said, “Little sister, give me back my life.”

"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."

Everyone knows that Qin Sicheng is desperately in love with me. To cure my depression, he gave up the opportunity to study abroad and stayed by my side.
But on the day of my birthday banquet, he disappeared.
When I found him in a corner of the back garden, he was pitifully clutching the hem of my best friend Qiao Anran's dress.
That man—usually so devoted and obedient to me—now had red-rimmed eyes and a trembling voice.
"Anran, how much longer do I have to keep acting? Lin Jiaqi is already better. Please, just look back at me, won't you?"
Qiao Anran closed her eyes, her face twisted in pain, then coldly pushed him away.
"Qin Sicheng, I'll say it again: as long as Lin Jiaqi is alive, you can only be her husband. This is what you owe me, and what I owe the Lin family."
I covered my mouth, staring at the diamond ring he had just given me, my heart shattering completely.
So the husband who had always loved me so deeply—it was all an act.

Last life, my girlfriend was trapped in a fire. I ran in, took the burns, and dragged her out alive.
When she woke up, she pointed at me first: “He’s the arsonist.”

Only later did I learn the truth—she’d been sleeping with her boss. They set the fire for an insurance payout and pinned everything on me.
Police investigations, the company cutting ties, the media turning me into a monster—I couldn’t prove a thing. I died in the rain, discarded like trash.

This time, I didn’t expose them. I didn’t call the cops.
On the night of the fire, I left early—then staged a robbery and walked myself into a police station, building the cleanest alibi possible.

They lit the match on schedule, trapped themselves, and waited for me to charge in.
As the flames grew and I never showed, she called—furious—demanding I come now.

I glanced at the officer taking my statement and said into the phone, calmly:
“Sorry. I can’t leave right now.”

In our third year of surviving the wasteland, my companions and I finally realized it was all a reality show.

The elites and billionaires on the outside had built a massive dome, tossing us into this irradiated hellhole to be tortured. They broadcasted it globally, watching us drink toxic wastewater and eat mutated meat, treating us like monkeys in a zoo.

The mole in our team knelt in the mud, sobbing, begging me to understand that it was all a script—that as long as I played along, I could live.

Without a second thought, I swung my blade. Right in front of ten million VIP viewers, I chopped off his leg.

"Crappy script," I sneered, kicking aside the severed limbs and blood on the floor. Gripping my machete, I walked toward the real world beyond the heavy gates.

To those who used our lives for entertainment: I'm coming for yours.

As the extreme cold apocalypse arrives, my most trusted protégé conspires with other shareholders to force me from power. Everyone is watching me become a laughingstock.

Just as I reach the brink of desperation and prepare to sign my resignation, countless scrolling comments suddenly cover my vision.

They're frantically displaying information about the future, such as—in three days, the apocalypse will end...

"Evelyn Drake, are you truly set on joining the FBI as an undercover agent?"
The senior officer Garrett stared intently at the elegantly dressed woman before him, his gaze laced with inquiry and faint doubt.
It was his occupational habit, even a special knack, to categorize everyone he met into distinct social ranks—and he was exceptionally good at it, never once misjudging anyone.
In his eyes, Evelyn Drake, with her flawless makeup and platinum-blonde hair all the way down to the roots, was far from cut out to be an agent.
He had seen countless such pampered wealthy wives throwing petty tantrums. Most would make a scene at the front desk, only to be coaxed home meekly by their rich husbands soon after.
If such a delicate lady were admitted into the FBI, he suspected even the Kevlar bulletproof vest alone would chafe her soft skin raw.
Lost in these thoughts, Garrett let out a disdainful chuckle, his tone brimming with scorn. "Are you really sure? You'd give up your lavish lifestyle to become an FBI agent?"
Sensing his contempt, Evelyn took off her expensive wristwatch and slipped it into her handbag, then nodded firmly at him. "I am absolutely certain."

The year the gas swallowed the world, I helped design and build Dome City with my own hands, keeping the last survivors alive.

I thought I was protecting hope.

Then I stumbled onto the Council’s secret: the poison outside is fading—but they chose to hide it. Worse, they plan to manufacture and release more gas, locking everyone inside forever, under their rule.

Before I could expose the truth, the person I trusted most struck me from behind.

My girlfriend—Vera Walker.

She took my evidence, stripped my access, and traded me for a higher rank.

When I woke up, I was outside the Dome in toxic fog—my identity erased, my lungs burning, my vision slipping.

They dumped me like trash, certain I wouldn’t last the night.

They forgot one thing.

Dome City is my blueprint, my welds, my pipes—my work.

And I’m back.

Seven years ago, my wife and son committed perjury in court, conspiring to send me to a high-security prison, all so they could elope with that fraudster.
Seven years later, I was released.
My ex-wife, with her son, arrogantly tossed a business card onto my faded work clothes:
"Go kowtow to my new husband and apologize, and I'll give you a waiter's job."
Little did she know that just hours later, at a top-tier financial summit across America, her seemingly untouchable new husband was kneeling at my feet like a dog.
And her proud multi-billion dollar empire was nothing more than garbage I could crush with a flick of my finger.

After ten years of being a "consumable," I performed my final maintenance on the very day Vivian handed my life's work over to someone else. I didn’t argue or resist; I just signed the paperwork with a smile. When the Thorne Tower began to collapse floor by floor due to my final permission error, she finally realized that all the brilliance she boasted of was nothing more than the residual warmth I had fed her. Now, she kneels in the ruins, begging me to turn back time. I only find her voice… annoying.

I suddenly awakened the ability to read minds. But I heard my fiancé, Joey Jones, mocking me in his mind: He had already arranged for an assassin to “send me off” at our wedding in the church. What was even more disgusting was that he promised I would become the Donna of the Jones family, but in his heart, he was fixated on his stepmother, Rory—his father’s widow, who was only a few years older than him.
With only three days left until the wedding, I no longer cried or begged for love. Instead, I contacted my first love, Nate, who was a police officer: “How about being the male lead at my wedding?”

Six years ago, Marlowe Kestrel drowned in the Duskhaven canals, or at least that is what the obituary said, what the empty coffin implied, and what every ruling House in the city has believed ever since.

In reality she swam two streets over, bribed a mortician with a forged signature, and built herself a new, gloriously unremarkable life as a small time magical forger who fixes other people's problems for coin and never, ever asks about bloodlines. It was a good plan.

It worked for six entire years, which is roughly five years and eleven months longer than anyone expected a Kestrel to survive in hiding. Then Jonas, the only man alive who knew her real name, turns up dead in his own workshop with a mark burned into his palm that Marlowe has spent her whole life trying to forget she carries too, and the only lead worth following belongs to Cassian Draven, heir to the most feared criminal House in the city, a man with a smile like a drawn blade and a family reputation built on making problems disappear as thoroughly as Marlowe once did herself.

Cassian recognizes her in under a minute, does not turn her in, and instead offers a deal she has no good reason to accept and every practical reason to take, pose as his fiancée at the season's summit of ruling Houses, help him smoke out whoever is hunting them both, and maybe, if she is very lucky and very careful, walk away with her second fake death arranged before anyone notices the first one was fake too.

The trouble is, the longer she spends pretending to love a Draven, the harder it gets to remember that hating him was ever supposed to be the easy part.

My squadmates falsely accused me of being a vampire. They poured scalding water over me claiming it was "holy water," spiked my meals with garlic extract, and even splashed me with stinking goat blood. In the end, their madness drove them to plunge a sharpened cross straight into my heart...

A wealthy heir was ordered to seduce me, intending to photograph me in compromising positions to destroy my reputation.
At midnight, his hands trembled as he prepared to send the photos, but I coldly exposed his cowardice and ambition.
That night, he deleted all the evidence before my eyes, his gaze filled with complete fanaticism and submission.
Later, he knelt on one knee with a diamond ring, but I poured myself a drink: "I don't need a partner to share power with—I just need an obedient dog."

The End Times Came, and I Awakened the Ability to Grow Vegetables

Every time I catalyzed a vegetable, it drained my stamina and life force.

But my sister Lucy needs to eat, and everyone in the camp needs to eat.

So I gave my life to the soil, exchanging life for food again and again.

Cult leader Silas patted my shoulder and said I was God's gardener, that Eden was born because of me.

I thought I had found a home.

I distributed the vegetables I grew to everyone in the camp.

Until I discovered the blue-green veins on my sister's arm.

Until I discovered that the bottle of "holy water" I fed her every day wasn't medicine at all.

Until I discovered that my sister had been sent to their altar.

I am the youngest Don of the Obsidian Family.
After an unexpected rest, my opponent sent me a street racing invitation.
I went to my brother's company to retrieve my car, but was drugged with ether by my brother's secretary.
She told me that no one could seduce her man.
She kicked my stomach, threatened me with a paper cutter to make a vow, and said her future sister-in-law is the youngest Don of the Obsidian Family—if I dared to retaliate against her, I would die miserably.
I looked at her coldly.
Really?
But I haven't agreed to be your sister-in-law yet!

My name is Grace Lawson. In everyone’s eyes, I’m a young, beautiful, and widely renowned hypnotist.
I’m also the girlfriend and cooperative partner of Adrian Carter, a rising star in the business world.
Lovers and partners—we raked in money together, winning big and shining bright.
In just three years—one thousand days and nights—I stood by him from nothing to everything, through every storm.
And yet, even with love and profit working well together, he still wouldn’t bring up marriage.
Until I happened to hear him say:
“A woman like Grace Lawson isn’t suited to be a wife.”
“Who knows if the love I feel for her is just one of her schemes?”
Later, I broke my promise and hypnotized him.
That was when he finally got scared—when he understood my hypnosis could make him willingly do anything.
But I only said softly: “Adrian Carter, close your eyes… Forget me. Forget me completely.”

In her previous life, after her parents died in a car accident, her eldest brother took in the daughter of the driver who caused the crash just to save face. To keep up the pretense of fairness, her brothers drained Lily Roberts of all her resources, trampled on her dignity, and poured everything into supporting the driver’s daughter. Lily gave her all to her brothers, only to be kicked out of the house and die a miserable death.
Reborn, Lily Roberts cast aside all her tendencies to help others. No forgiveness, no reconciliation—let them cling together; she’d thrive alone.
Her brothers all thought she was just throwing a tantrum and would slink back within three days.
But three days turned into another three, and then another. Her brothers couldn’t sit still anymore.
Eldest brother: “Why has my health been so poor lately? Because Lily stopped sending me tonics.”
Second brother: “Why does the company’s firewall keep failing? Because Lily isn’t here to maintain it anymore.”
Third brother: “Why is the drug research and development progressing so slowly? Because Lily no longer volunteers as a test subject for the drugs.”
Fourth brother: “Why are these scripts so terrible? Because Lily stopped writing them.”
Fifth brother: “Why is this prosthetic limb so useless? Because Lily isn’t the one who custom-made it anymore.”
Sixth brother: “Why does the eSports team keep losing? Because Lily quit.”
Her brothers knelt on the ground, begging for forgiveness. “Lils, come back! We’re family—blood is thicker than water!”
Lily Roberts slammed the severance of kinship agreement in front of them, scoffing coldly. “Cars hit the wall and you finally know to swerve? Stocks soar and you rush to buy? Get sentenced for your mistakes and you suddenly regret it? Sorry, I don’t forgive.”

"Lila," I began softly, choosing my words. "About last night..."
She stood abruptly, cutting me off. "Don't. There's nothing to apologize for. It happened."
I frowned, trying to gauge her. "So, what are you saying?"
She crossed her arms, steadying herself. "I'm saying I have a deal for you."
"A deal?"
"We keep seeing each other- secretly. No one has to know. No strings attached."
I stared at her, wondering if she was serious. But from the look in her eyes, I knew she was.


Lila Frost, a brilliant bio-genetics student and the fiercely protected sister of Alpha King Ronan, returns to Silver Lake for a quiet summer focused on her research. But one reckless night changes everything when she shares an unforgettable encounter with Caden Walker- her brother's dangerously irresistible best friend. Their one night stand ignites a fiery connection, and they agree to indulge their passion without complications- no love, no strings attached.
But when Lila discovers she's pregnant, her world unravels. Torn between her growing feelings for Caden and the fear that he could never love her back, Lila retreats into her studio, burying herself in her work to escape the truth. The secret she carries threatens not only her heart but also her bond with her overprotective brother.
As Caden remains unaware of Lila's internal struggle, Ronan uncovers the truth about their relationship- and his fury knows no bounds. Now, Lila must confront her feelings, her brother's wrath, and the uncertainty of what her future holds. Can she risk everything for a chance at love with Caden? Or will she lose him- and herself- trying to protect her heart?

After eight years in the military, Frank Moore returned to New York.

He had intended to attend his comrade's sister's wedding, only to witness her being utterly humiliated by mafia thugs, forced to drink their foot-washing water.

Enraged, Frank crippled the young thug's legs, condemning him to a wheelchair for life.

Faced with assassins from both the underworld and above, Frank made a phone call.

Hundreds of elite mercenaries descended from the sky, and the entire New York mafia fell to their knees in terror.

The tide in New York was about to turn!

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