8128 Book(s) Related to i am the fated villain light novel

"You're terrible in bed! The stamina of a goldfish! I want someone else!"
"Oh yeah? Who exactly?"
"Someone who can actually keep up!"
My husband's jaw ticked. That night, he proved exactly how much stamina he had—and I could barely walk the next morning.

Three years of marriage. Three years of negative pregnancy tests. Desperate times called for desperate measures—so I pushed every button he had, hoping to finally conceive.
One reckless night of passion later, I thought we'd finally made progress.
Instead, divorce papers slammed into my hands.
"Anyone could mother my child," he said coldly. "Literally anyone but you."

Six years later, I returned from overseas—CEO of a medical empire, renowned archaeologist, certified gemologist, and secret heiress to the nation's wealthiest family. Oh, and I brought along my adorable twin geniuses.
My multiple identities? Mind. Blown.
Meanwhile, my ex-husband's dirty secret hit tabloids: He's firing blanks. Always has been.

Just as I'm about to marry my charming new fiancé (who actually appreciates me), my ex corners me in a hotel suite. His eyes bloodshot, voice cracking:
"You're the only one—the ONLY one—who can be my children's mother. My love. Please..."
Too bad, buddy. You snooze, you lose.
💎 Revenge. Rebirth. Twin Chaos. And one groveling ex who's about to learn what he lost. 💎

At the press conference, my husband Thaddeus Getty publicly declared his love for his first love in front of all the media.
In an instant, the whole world knew I was a wife who wasn't cherished by her husband.
Heartbroken but not defeated, despite my deep love, I chose to leave.
Months later, Thaddeus looked at my belly and snarled through gritted teeth: "Tell me, whose bastard child is this?"

On our third wedding anniversary, my husband's gift to me was a set of divorce papers.
I ended up on the streets with my critically ill daughter, so desperate I sold the only keepsake my late mother had left me.
But when the family estate was revealed, my daughter was named heir to the lion's share.
When my ex-husband took me to court to fight for custody, I pulled out a paternity test report in front of everyone.
"You're sterile. You were never her father — someone else is."

Warning Matured Content [Rated +18]

Randall lifted the veil I was wearing and gently pressed his soft lips against mine. I closed my eyes.

“I am so pleased to present the newlyweds, Randall Adams and Winter Harris Adams!”

I yearn after I open my eyes. It is just a dream. But that didn't happen because rising my eyes, only the click, the light of the camera, and the applause of the people popped into my depressed eyes.

Randall, the handsome billionaire, stands beside me, claiming that we have been a pair of lovers for so long.

But I don't recognize him.

Because I lost my memory.

Rowan is seven years younger than Max; the first warning to stay away. But staying away isn’t an option. Forced to live under the same roof as his mulish stepbrother, Rowan discovers the one person he should fear most is the one he can’t stop thinking about.

Max thrives on chaos, and Rowan quickly becomes his favorite target. But Rowan has a secret: he’s falling for the boy who bullies and seems determined to destroy him. Max makes it clear he hates Rowan, and even clearer that he doesn’t like boys.

In a house built on resentment, the line between hate and need starts to blur. And once Max starts watching, Rowan might never be able to hide, and Max might never be able to look away.

Kate Brady doesn’t exist. She’s a name on a passport, a voice Jackson Ruspoli has started to trust, a lie built carefully enough to survive inside the walls of Ruspoli Industries. Underneath her is Natalie Cromwell, a woman who died the same year her father did, when his ruined name became the only inheritance she had left.

Getting close to Jackson was supposed to be simple: find the buried proof that clears her father, and disappear before anyone learns her real name. But Jackson isn’t the careless mark she expected.
He’s sharp enough to know something about her doesn’t add up, and dangerous enough that being caught could cost her more than the job.

Then someone else starts using her real name.
Someone who remembers exactly what happened ten years ago, and wants the kind of ending that doesn’t leave room for the truth to matter, only for everything to burn. Now Natalie isn’t just racing to expose what Jackson’s family did. She’s racing to stop a stranger from destroying her only chance to do it right, before she becomes the one person left to blame.

The closer she gets to the truth, the closer she gets to Jackson. And the more she has to lose the moment he finds out who she really is.

She came here to be the hunter. She’s starting to realize she might already be the prey.

I thought I was the happiest woman in the world... until I clicked on that video.

The moment the screen lit up, my entire world came crashing down.

The woman on the bed was Calista - that girl who grew up with us since we were kids. And that hand caressing her skin was wearing the wedding ring I had personally put on Matteo's finger.

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

Those sweet words I knew so well completely destroyed me.

Everyone said we were the perfect couple, but who knew this marriage was built on nothing but lies?

Since he's so good at acting, I guess it's time I gave him a show of my own. I'm going to make sure everyone sees what this "perfect husband" really is...

I thought I was the perfect wife and mother, until I heard my husband outside his office, laughing, calling me a "prison warden" and planning to use our daughter as cover while he ran off to Tuscany with his grad student.

Everything fell apart. Then my daughter, in front of everyone: "That's just our annoying nanny."

I tried to hold on to what was left of our family, but my daughter shoved me down the stairs. I lost the baby, and my husband just checked his watch while I bled out on the floor.

They locked me in and left for Italy.

Alone in the hospital, they told me I'd lost the baby and had "memory damage."

Now they're back, expecting the same obedient wife.

She's gone.

And I'm done loving them.

I married my abuser by choice.
To everyone’s confusion, I stay by his side silently, tolerating his endless humiliation and public degradation in front of tens of thousands of livestream viewers. I never cry, never resist, always flawless and docile.
No one notices I’ve kept a perfect physical form, hiding a terrible secret beneath my makeup.
When a strange superchat tears through the live stream and reveals my true identity, my husband is terrified yet obsessed with viral fame. He plans to test my truth tonight.
The meek wife act is over. My quiet, deadly revenge is finally coming true.

The day my sister and I came back to life, we made one call: swap fiancés.

Last time, Dad burned every favor he had to lock down two marriage deals for the family. One with a mafia family that runs the West Coast. The other with a corporate CEO.

My sister married the mafia leader. She was too gentle, too kind for a world that ran on blood and backstabbing. The man had a childhood friend who played soft and helpless but was vicious as hell underneath. That woman tormented my sister for decades before finally arranging an "accident" that killed her.

And me? I got the polished CEO.

Sounds good, right? Except we tortured each other from day one. He was all rules and manners, always talking like he was giving a speech. Me? I blow up fast and if I can throw a punch, I will. Every day was the same standoff. He'd pull back, I'd push forward, and nobody gave an inch.

We spent our whole lives being polite and miserable.

Then one day, my sister and I woke up on the afternoon they announced the engagements.

My husband Spencer quit his job to manage a rising model's career. In six months, she dropped the weight, blew up online, and turned into a supermodel — magazine covers, major runways, deal after deal.

Meanwhile, I watch myself expand by the day. Bloated. Double chin forming. Skin getting worse.

The whole world calls me greedy, lazy, out of control. Even my parents call to tell me to watch what I eat. And there's nothing I can say to make anyone understand.

Then one night, I catch them on the balcony, voices low, thinking no one can hear: "Forget about that fat cow. Once she drops dead, the house and the insurance are all ours."

That's when it finally makes sense.

Camille has a system tied to her. And it's tied to me.

Every pound I gain, she loses one.

I'm the fuel. The stepping stone. The inheritance they're waiting to collect.

She gets thin while I get fat?

So as long as I keep eating, she keeps losing weight?

Good.

I go ahead and spend a hundred grand booking a reclusive private chef for a full month. No limits on ingredients, price doesn't matter. The more extravagant, the better.

I'm going to eat whatever I want and actually enjoy my life.

Let's see how long she stays thin while I'm out here actually living my life.

Ryan Aldridge had one rule: he showed up for whoever needed him most.

The problem was, it was never me.

Throat swelling shut in the ER? He was unclogging Sloane Harrington's drain. Anniversary dinner? He left between courses because Sloane was "spiraling."

I forgave it every time. I was the cool girl. The understanding fiancée.

Then my studio caught fire, and a beam came down on my chest.

I lay there—bleeding, pinned, choking on smoke—and watched Ryan vault over me to carry out a woman with a sprained ankle.

"Jocelyn, come on. You can handle this. Look at her—she's shaking."

Something in me went still. Not broken. Finished.

I twisted off the ring with blood-slick fingers and let it disappear into the ash.

Then I disappeared too.

Three months after my miscarriage, at the celebration dinner he hosts for my "recovery," he tells his partners in French, "She's just a trophy wife. Doesn't understand basic business."

"What about that new assistant? The twenty-two-year-old?"

"So much smarter," he laughs. "And in bed? Way more exciting."

They think I don't understand. To everyone here, I'm just the stay-at-home wife who gave up her VP position at an investment bank to play house.

They don't know I minored in French. I spent a full year studying abroad at the Sorbonne.

As I lay in the operating room, bleeding out from the miscarriage, he was already seeing her.

Je comprends tout. I understand everything.

Over the champagne and candlelight, I smile at him.

He has no idea this is the last time he'll ever see it.

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

Dirk wakes up in a magical world with low stats and a bag full of ordinary Earth items. He completes strange quests, gains friends, and uncovers secrets, others begin to realize his hidden power is far beyond anything the realm has ever seen. While Dirk believes he's weak, the truth is—he might be the strongest of them all.

All of a sudden there was a growl that ripped through the room and the band stopped playing and I heard something smash. Like it was a wooden chair or something.
Everyone looked in that direction and there was a man standing there that I had never noticed before. He would have been in his early 20's, brown hair to his shoulders, a brown goatee, 6-foot 6 at least and very defined muscles that were now tense as his intense gaze was staring directly at me and Mason.
But I didn't know who he was. I was frozen in the spot and this man was just staring at us with pure hatred in his eyes. But then I realized that the hatred was for Mason. Not me.
"Mine." He demanded.

Five years ago, during a passionate sexual encounter, Freya Myers stole sperm from a mysterious and dangerous man, intending to have a genetically superior child. That man was none other than Declan Castle, the ruthless, enigmatic CEO of the globally renowned Castle Group.

Five years later, Freya Myers returns to the city with a pair of exceptionally gifted twins, desperately trying to conceal their existence from the world. But when she interviews for an internship, she unexpectedly encounters Declan Castle—the very same man from years ago—as her interviewer. From then on, Declan Castle becomes a persistent, demonic force haunting her!

Five years ago, a single, desperate mistake changed Freya Myers's life forever. Intending to secure a future with the man of her dreams, she ended up in the wrong room, stealing the 'seed' of the wrong man. That man was Declan Castle—the cold, ruthless, and enigmatic CEO of the world-renowned Castle Group.

Now, Freya has returned to the city as a struggling single mother, hiding a pair of genius twins from the world. When she lands an internship at the Castle Group, she hopes to remain invisible. But fate has other plans. Declan Castle, a man who has remained mysteriously untouched by any woman since that fateful night, instantly senses something familiar about the new designer. He has spent years searching for the woman who 'ruined' him, and now that he has found her, he has no intention of letting her go.

Forced into a high-stakes marriage of convenience with the domineering CEO, Freya must navigate the treacherous waters of high society while desperately guarding her children's true identity. Between a scheming stepmother, jealous socialites, and a series of deadly secrets, the walls are closing in.

What started as a game of cat-and-mouse and a quest for revenge soon ignites into a passion that neither can control. In a world where power is everything and betrayal is a way of life, can Freya protect her heart and her children, or will the relentless Mr. Castle claim everything she’s been trying to hide?

One modern smartphone. Zero social skills. And a world of women who want his "magic."
Arthur lived seventy years as a "good man"a polite way of saying he died a virgin with a literal allergy to women. Touched by his purity, the Goddess Venus offers him a second chance in another realm of Venhus. But thanks to a divine blunder, Arthur wakes up as a 20 year old scrawny, powerless orphan in a world where women rule with magic and steel.
His only lifeline? A Spectral Smartphone that can order anything from Earth...from Glocks and Kevlar to Flamin' Hot Cheetos. The catch: the currency is Venus Points (VP), earned only through physical and romantic intimacy.
For a man who breaks out in hives during a handshake, Arthur is in a comedic hell. To survive greedy queens and demon mages, he must overcome his terror and "farm" points from the very women he’s spent a lifetime avoiding.
Building an empire is easy. Surviving the first kiss is the real boss fight.

In my family, "democracy" was just a gilded word for bullying.
Every time there was a conflict between me and my adopted sister, Ivy, my fiancé and my brother would settle it with a family vote.
The location of my marital home? I lost, 3-1.
The guest list for my wedding? I lost, 3-1.
 
And when Ivy wanted the massive south-facing master suite in my new house to build her walk-in closet?
"Let's vote to keep things fair," my fiancé, William, declared.
I was a rising architect at Boston's most prestigious firm, yet I didn't even have the right to design my own marital home.
The result was unanimous. The bride's bedroom would be half the size of the adopted sister's closet.
 
Out of more than a hundred family votes over the last ten years:
My fiancé's votes for me: Zero.
My own brother's votes for me: Zero.
 
I finally realized this game was rigged from the start. I didn’t say a word. I just packed my bags.
Let them play their little voting game without me.

His ex‑mate had come back.
The one he’d loved before our pack arranged this bond.
I was just the contract wife.
I knew my place. So I laid the divorce papers on his desk, calm and final.
“Sign it. You don’t need me anymore.”
He stared at me like I’d grown a second head.
Then his jaw tightened, that wolf dominance flaring in his eyes—raw, territorial, furious.
He stepped close, caging me against the wall, his voice a low, dangerous growl.
“Need you? I don’t need you. I own you.
You think you get to choose when this bond ends?
You don’t run. You don’t leave.
You don’t get to divorce me. Not now. Not ever.
You’re mine!"

Maddison Huston loses everything in one night; her job, her home, her reputation, and the man she loved. Branded a seductress and cast aside at her ex-lover’s wedding, she is left broken, homeless, and humiliated.
One drunken night leads to a dangerous encounter with a stranger whose touch she can’t forget, only to discover he is Aldric Hawthorne, the ruthless CEO who holds her fate in his hands.


“That’s how you show appreciation?” he asked quietly. “To someone who saved you from danger? Protected you because you were careless enough to drink yourself unconscious in a bar?”
I blinked in confusion. “Protected… me?”
“Yes. And you dare accuse me of taking advantage of you? Seriously, Miss Huston?” He stopped in front of me and trailed his eyes from my legs up to my face.
I felt cornered, stupid and confused.
“No, I remember everything.” I tried to keep my voice steady but my shaking breaths betrayed me. “You kissed me, you touched me, you even…” I trailed on my last words because I couldn’t bring myself to say it.
His eyes glinted with something I couldn’t read.
“You don’t seem to have recovered from the alcohol,” he said with a smirk on his face, stepping closer while I backed away until my back hit the wall.
His arm braced beside my head, and my breath caught as he leaned in, heat radiating from his body like fire contained in a man.
“You must be so delusional to have imagined me having sex with you,” he murmured, his lips brushing so close to my ear my knees weakened.
My breath stuttered. “I didn’t imagine—”
He lifted my chin to look at him, his mouth hovered on my lips and his hot breaths hitting my face;
My heart was beating so fast at the closeness and the look in his eyes, like he was going to devour me.
Then his voice dropped into a dark whisper behind my ear.
“I don’t fuck virgins.”
My stomach flipped as his breath grazed my neck.
How did he know?

Sophie, a mother of one who had gotten pregnant and was abandoned by her lover Ryan. She gets back on her feet and is determined to work hard for a better life for her daughter.Fate plays it tricks as she meets a billionaire who she had met when her Ex lover Ryan dumped her. Her daughter Selena brings him home in a plot to get her married to a man.Sophie however recognizes him as the stranger from many nights ago.
She felt he took advantage of her vulnerability and agrees to marry him as he proposes marriage to her and she plots to take her revenge. But that was not the case. How can this misunderstanding be resolved?Her ex returns to make amends and wants to reunite with his new found family. What does fate have in stock for them?Will Sophie agree to go back or be with the man she thought took advantage of her. Watch out as it unfolds......

Evelyn Vale plans weddings, memorials, and private family ceremonies for people who care too much about how grief looks on camera. She knows lighting, timing, guest flow, and the hidden machinery behind a perfect public moment.

Then one night, while sitting beside the husband who kisses her goodnight, she sees a livestream event scheduled for tomorrow: her own memorial service.

The cover uses her mourning portrait. Grant, her husband, is posed as the devastated widower. Serena, her half sister, stands beside him like a woman already rehearsing the role of replacement wife.

At first Evelyn wants it to be a mistake. Then the invoices appear. The funeral campaign is paid for. The backend record existed. Someone with internal clearance created it, deleted it, and expected Evelyn to die before the broadcast.

Julian Cross, a former livestream safety investigator disgraced by an old death case, is the first person who treats Evelyn's fear as evidence. Together they follow the countdown through funeral contracts, planted comments, medical manipulation, board pressure, platform corruption, and a hidden operator using public grief as a business model.

But Evelyn is not waiting to be rescued. She knows how to build an event. She knows where witnesses should stand, when a microphone should stay open, and how a lie collapses when the room sees the right proof at the right time.

Grant scheduled the funeral.

Evelyn hosts it better.

Molly thought she had the perfect life with her husband. But everything shattered when she discovered his mistress’s pictures hidden inside the house, he claimed to have built for her. The final blow? The mistress wasn’t a stranger at all, but her own sister!
Heartbroken, she signed the divorce papers and woke up drunk in front of her college sweetheart, Giovanni Dawson, who now ruled the underworld. Giovanni wants to help her take revenge and win her heart, but can she trust him after he broke her heart once?
And oh, he comes with a mysterious four-year-old boy who is determined to keep every woman out of his life for good.

After three years of marriage, the first thing my husband did upon waking from his vegetative state was to humiliate me for my stepsister. I once thought that my three years of devoted care would earn me a shred of his affection, only to discover that he had always loved the woman who stole everything from me including my identity. For her sake, he forced me to leave with nothing and had me blacklisted throughout the city.

But what they didn't know was that the woman they discarded like a piece of trash would shed her apron and become a legendary racer who struck fear into the hearts of the entire racing world. When my husband's archrival extended an olive branch to me, this game of revenge began—who will ultimately be the winner?

"I WANT DIVORCE!" I shouted, my voice echoing off the walls.
The room fell silent. Alexander stopped in his tracks; his back still turned to me. I could sense his tension, his surprise. But I didn't care. I meant it. I wanted out of this loveless, abusive marriage. I wanted to be free.
Slowly, Alexander turned around, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me. But I didn't flinch. I held his gaze, my eyes blazing with determination. I was done. I was finally done with this toxic marriage, done with being treated like a doormat. I wanted my freedom, and I was ready to fight for it.
Alexander's steps halted, his cold face turning towards me with a mixture of shock and disdain. "What did you say?" he asked, his voice dripping with ice.
I stood my ground, meeting his gaze with matching coldness. No fear, no softness, just a resolute determination. "I want divorce, Mr. Alexander Valtor," I repeated, my voice firm and clear.
Alexander's expression twisted in contempt. "Don't you think it should be me who asks for divorce? I am the one who was forced to marry a girl like you."

"Spread your legs. If you don't do as I say, I'll open your pussy with my whole hand. Understand?" His voice was calm and firm.

I whimpered loudly but nodded.

"Good baby, now let's get started on what I want. Will you be a good girl?" His voice was once again filled with coldness.

"Yes." I whispered as I clenched my teeth and managed to place my hands in his. His hands were big and held me firmly.

"Good girl." He replied sarcastically. But before he let go of my poor nipples, he rubbed his palms over the sensitive and delicate pussy...

Alan Hillman is a man with a singular interest in revenge. Kidnapped as a young boy and sold into slavery by a power-hungry mobster, he has thought of nothing but vengeance.

For twelve years he has immersed himself in the world of pleasure slaves searching for the one man he holds ultimately responsible.

Finally, the architect of his suffering has emerged with a new identity, but not a new nature. If Alan is to get close enough to strike, he must become the very thing he abhors and kidnap a beautiful girl to train her to be all that he once was.

But what if he falls in love with the girl he kidnapped?

Serena Hale thought she had finally built a quiet life for herself—one where her past, her family’s mistakes, and her father’s debts wouldn’t define her. But when her father’s financial troubles drag her into a marriage contract with Adrian Vale, a cold and devastatingly handsome billionaire heir, her fragile world shatters.
To the outside world, they are a perfect couple: glamorous, untouchable, and united. In reality, Serena and Adrian are strangers bound by obligation, their relationship defined by rules, tension, and restraint. He is ruthless, emotionally distant, and used to controlling everyone around him. She is quiet, observant, and fiercely protective of the small autonomy she has left. Every interaction is a battle between control and resistance, pride and vulnerability, fear and desire.
As they navigate public appearances, family scrutiny, and the constraints of their forced union, unexpected emotions begin to stir. Their hostility slowly transforms into understanding, and resentment gives way to longing—but every step toward connection is fraught with danger. Secrets from both their pasts threaten to unravel the fragile trust forming between them, and Serena soon realizes that love in this arrangement comes at a high cost.
When betrayal and scandal push them to the breaking point, Serena must decide whether to fight for the life she wants or surrender to the man who has slowly captured her heart. And Adrian must confront the truth: love cannot be forced, earned, or bought—it must be chosen.
Bound to a Man I Never Chose is a slow-burn billionaire romance about trust, power, emotional resilience, and the courage it takes to claim your own life, even when every choice feels impossible.

Vanessa Williams has three ironclad rules: hate hockey, avoid hockey players, and never, ever get hurt by one again. Her father was the first to break that last rule, and Danny Glover—the campus hockey god with a smile that once wrecked her—was the second. Three years ago, she ran. Now, her graduate degree depends on studying the very sport she despises, and her advisor just assigned her to work with him.

Danny Glover has spent three years regretting the night he lost Vanessa. When she walks back into his life, all sharp edges and guarded green eyes, he sees a second chance. To protect her from his teammates’ relentless gossip and unwanted advances, he proposes a solution that’s as brilliant as it is dangerous: fake date. Publicly, they’ll be the picture-perfect couple. Privately, it’s just business.

The rules are simple: no feelings, no sex, just performative affection when people are watching. But every whispered study session, every pretend date that feels too real, and every old memory that sparks to life makes those boundaries blur. As their carefully staged romance starts to feel alarmingly genuine, they must confront past betrayals, a scandal that could ruin everything, and the terrifying possibility that the greatest risk isn’t getting caught in the lie…

It’s falling in love—for real this time.

'Why now, why him? I shouldn't have looked. I shouldn't have stayed. But my ears betrayed me. Adrain's lips on her - it felt like a knife twisting inside me. Why does it matter so much? He's my best friend's brother. He is trouble. And yet, my heart races whenever he is near. I hate myself for wanting what I can't have."

.....................................

Inez is a romance loving nerd navigating her love life. After catching her boyfriend, Ethan, cheating, she stays with her best friend, Irene, where she meets the playboy, Irene's brother, Adrain.

Despite their instant attraction, Adrain's playboy reputation and Inez's insecurities keep them apart. As Inez faces bullying, family drama, and danger, Adrain becomes her protector and secret crush. Will they overcome their past and Adrain's possessive nature to find love?

Amara Snow hates Christmas with every fiber of her being. For sixteen years, December 25th has been a day of grief, not joy—the anniversary of the car accident that killed her parents. While the world celebrates, she works double shifts and avoids the holiday like a curse. When she loses her job on Christmas Eve and collapses in the snow, she's ready to give up. But a mysterious stranger with impossibly warm hands and eyes like starlight saves her life. Noelle Krystov seems too perfect, too kind, too good to be true. That's because he is. He's the immortal son of Santa Claus, sent to Earth to protect the dying spirit of Christmas. Falling in love with a human is forbidden—it will cost him his immortality. But when Noelle discovers that Amara isn't just any human, that she's the Yuletide Child born at the exact moment Christmas magic was created, their love becomes the key to saving or destroying Christmas forever. As dark forces rise to extinguish belief and hope, Amara must choose: continue hating the holiday that took everything from her, or become the woman who saves it. Sometimes the greatest magic isn't in believing in Christmas—it's in believing in yourself.

He never spoke. I never knew when to shut up. Everyone had a theory about the Mute Mafia King.
Some said he lost his voice. Some said he’d taken a vow of silence. Others were convinced he simply hated people.
The women in the mafia had a different theory altogether. That he was gay. It certainly explained why the most powerful, most feared, and ridiculously handsome man in Italy had never looked twice at a woman. Including me.
Which was perfect. Considering I was about to marry his uncle.
I hated my fiancé. He hated me. His nephew barely acknowledged my existence. So why couldn’t I stop looking at him? Why did every stolen glance feel like a secret? Why did his silence say more than everyone else’s words?
They warned me the Mute Mafia King was a monster. What nobody warned me about was that the monster would turn out to be my fiancé’s nephew.
Or that I’d end up spending more time with him than my actual fiancé. Or that “keeping me safe” would mean sharing a hallway, a table, and eventually a lot more than either of us planned for. Or that somewhere between his silence and my inability to shut up, I’d start hearing words out of him that nobody else ever got.
I came here to survive a wedding I never wanted. I did not come here to fall for the one man who could ruin everything if anyone ever found out.

Kimberly Smith thought winning a scholarship to Greywood Academy would be her way out. Straight A’s. A fresh start. A future that her mom could finally be proud of.
Instead, Greywood takes one look at her thrift shoes and homemade lunch—and decides she’s entertainment.
They call her Scumbag of the Week.
They film her, mock her, and turn every mistake into a headline.
And the worst part? The boy who started it is the one person she can’t avoid.
Xavier Grey is the heir everyone fears, the boyfriend every girl worships, and the bully who knows exactly how to break people with a smirk. Kimberly swears she’ll survive him, not fall for him.
Then the lines blur.
A “dare kiss” goes viral. Someone pushes her into a pool. Her scholarship is suddenly under review—with “evidence” that makes her look guilty. Her only friend turns against her. Even her mother starts to doubt her.
And Xavier—cold, controlled Xavier—starts showing up when it matters. Warning her away from traps. Paying to erase posts. Touching her tears like he hates that they exist.
Greywood is built to crush girls like Kimberly.
So why does its most dangerous boy look like he might burn it down for her?

For two years, Serena believed she was the luckiest woman alive. Her husband Leo worshipped her—he was tender, protective, and swore he'd never let anyone hurt her. He even refused to touch her, claiming she was too precious.

Then, on their wedding anniversary, she walked into his private club and heard him whisper to another woman: "Take care of our baby."

The woman was his brother's wife.

Everything—the gentleness, the restraint, the so-called love—had been an elaborate performance. And when Serena demanded a divorce, Leo didn't beg. He didn't apologize. He smiled and said: "Your grandmother wouldn't want that."

Now Serena must fight her way out of a marriage designed to cage her, a family that wants her silent, and a past that still has teeth. But the man who appears from the shadows to help her… is the same one who abandoned her years ago.

And he has secrets of his own.

My twin brother and I were reborn at the same time.
In our previous life, he kicked me into the borderland overrun by monsters, while he went to enjoy himself in Radiant City, only to be exiled for his incompetence.
I reversed my healing power into killing techniques, building humanity's second-largest power amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood, only to be sacrificed in his jealousy, devoured alive by demons for seven days and seven nights.
This time, the carriage bound for the border stopped before me, and without hesitation, he pushed me toward the airship to Radiant City, eager to go to the border as the "savior."
Watching his impatient back, I almost burst out laughing.
Go, my foolish brother.
Do you think those bloodthirsty thugs of Shattered Stone Fortress would recognize you as their king without my self-created "healing backlash" in hell?
In this life, you'll stay in the hell you chose, and watch how I use healing magic to give this desperate world a "physical salvation"!

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!

I am Seraphine Marchwood. For five years, I gave every piece of myself to Alpha Veyron, convinced our mate bond was fated—until the night I accidentally overheard the truth.
He never wanted me as his mate. The entire proposed bond was nothing but a cover, a farce to hide his scandalous affair with Ophelia, the woman he actually loved. She was carrying his pup, and I was just the disposable, respectable shield to keep his reputation untarnished.
I ran that night, blind with grief and rage, until I crashed through the rotting beams of an old, rain-soaked ruin. The last thing I remembered before blacking out was the taste of blood in my mouth, and the sound of his voice calling my name, too late.
When I woke up, I didn’t recognize him.
And for the first time since I’d known him, he looked terrified. The cold, unshakable Alpha who’d cast me aside without a second thought was panicking, desperate, scrambling to bring back the version of me that had loved him more than anything—even as a new, unforeseen path began to unfurl before me.

When the bridal bouquet landed directly in my arms, the entire reception erupted.
All eyes shifted to Elias, the man I had loved for seven years.
"Propose! Put a ring on it!" the crowd chanted, pushing him toward me.
My heart raced. I thought my endless waiting was finally over.
Instead, Elias stepped up, smiled... and pulled the flowers right out of my hands.
He turned around and shoved them into the arms of his twenty-five-year-old assistant.
"Don't be greedy, Kalinda. Let Mia have the luck today," he chuckled, patting my hair like a pet. "We've got plenty of time. Next time, I promise."
I watched his assistant bury her face in the white peonies, shooting me a triumphant smirk.
I just smiled back.
There isn't going to be a "next time."
My wedding is coming. And he isn't the groom.

Three months ago, I was kidnapped. When Alexander rescued me, I woke up in a hospital bed with my clothes disheveled and bruises covering my body. What happened during those hours? I don't remember any of it.

A week ago, I found out I was pregnant. He held me as I shook and told me that it wasn't my fault. That he failed to protect me. Even if the baby wasn't his, he'd raise it. He'd still give me the perfect wedding.

But the guilt ate me alive until depression took hold.

Every night, sleep stays out of reach. Nightmares find me the moment I close my eyes. I've tried to end it. Three times now. Each time, someone found me just in time.

After the third failed attempt, I make tea and head toward his study to apologize. Voices drift through the door before I reach it.

"Are you out of your mind? Evelyn's your fiancée!" His friend sounds disbelieving. "You actually hired someone to kidnap her? Made her think she was assaulted? Just so Lily could take her place? Do you know how messed up that is? What that does to someone?"

Alexander's voice comes out calm. "Lily got sick because of me. Her dying wish is to marry me once before she goes. If I didn't push Evelyn out of the picture, her father would never let Lily take her place."

All those nights. All those nightmares. All those times I scrubbed my hands raw until they bled. It was all a lie. A setup.

For another woman.

I pull out my phone and call my father.

"Dad. I'll agree to the arrangement."

On my birthday, I lost my pup from overwork, and at the same moment, a photo popped up on social media—my boyfriend kissing another woman under fireworks.

The caption read: "Found my lost mate."

I finally understood: I was nothing more than a replacement after Kathy left, a temporary harbor while he waited for his true love.

I quietly signed my resignation letter, burned eight years of memories, and turned to leave Stone Lake Pack.

Then, I met another Alpha.

Dangerous, captivating, untouchable—yet he dropped to one knee at our first meeting: "Marry me."

I nodded yes, but my ex lost his mind.

Three years barren, and Jessamine walked on thin ice in the elite household. Her mother-in-law spat venomous curses daily, calling her a "worthless waste of space" and threatening to force her son into divorce.

She could still remember when Damien had severed all ties with his family to marry her—kneeling outside their door in the pouring rain, begging his parents to accept her: "Jessamine is my one true love! I can't survive without her!" Back then, she was the only woman who existed in his eyes.

But now, for the sake of family inheritance, he had the audacity to demand her consent for his childhood sweetheart Celeste to bear their child. Jessamine endured the soul-crushing agony of watching her husband entwined with another woman, night after torturous night.

Even more devastating—after Celeste delivered a daughter, Damien had the shameless nerve to declare: "The family still needs a male heir."

In that shattering moment, Jessamine finally saw the brutal truth.

My husband used my cottage to cheat on me. Fine. I found out, I drove three hours, and I walked into my own house to find his mistress wearing my dead grandmother's sweater.
She told me to leave.
He showed up, kissed her in front of me, then grabbed my arm and shoved me into the door frame.
That's when I had the asthma attack. He's known about my asthma for five years.
My inhaler rolled across the porch floor. His mistress picked it up, held it out, and told me to sign a statement saying I'd caused all of this. Then she'd give it back.
He looked at me on the ground and said: She's performing.
I'm sitting on the floor of my own grandmother's house, gasping, and my husband is telling the neighbors I'm acting.
Nobody thought to ask whose family manages every property on this coastline.

For the tenth time, James Smith left me behind because of a call from his female student.
But it was as if I had become a different person—I no longer doubted that there was something ambiguous between James and his student.
Even on our wedding anniversary, when he abandoned me in the remote mountains for Sophia's sake, I bore no resentment.
Eventually, James began to sense something.
"Emily, you seem different," he said.
I shook my head with a smile.
Because I had simply made a different choice from the one in my past life.

I was marrying Boone Ashcroft on a Saturday morning. Before I could step out of the truck, his mother walked up with a rope and pointed at the cattle chute behind the barn.
Her terms: hands and knees through six inches of mud and manure. A metal headgate clamped around my neck at the end. That was the price of walking through her front door.
I said no.
Then forty Ashcrofts surrounded the truck. My phone had zero signal. My family was blocked behind a hay baler a quarter mile back. And the man I'd spent three years with looked me in the eye and said: "You're going through that chute today. Crawling or walking — pick one."
They cornered my best friend. Threw hog blood on the windshield. Thought nobody was coming for me.
They didn't know about the CB radio under the console — or the ten cousins listening on the other end.

In order to rush to comfort his assistant whose apartment was leaking, Richard signed his name hastily without even glancing at the documents on the table.
I put away the divorce agreement with a wry smile.
When he and my son completely disappeared, he finally panicked.
Three months later .
He knelt down on the streets of Chicago in despair, begging me to remarry him.
My six-year-old son looked coldly at his biological father and said, "Get lost, you bad uncle! You don't deserve to be my dad!"

Before the zombie outbreak, I was a hardcore doomsday prepper. I hoarded countless supplies, but when the apocalypse actually arrived, I ended up turning into a zombie myself. Just as I was overwhelmed with panic, my girlfriend and the guy she was cheating on me with brought a mob of thugs to smash down my door...

Seventy-two hours before my wedding, I stood in front of the fitting mirror at a bridal shop.

My best friend sent me a social media post, and the red exclamation mark in the message box stung my eyes sharply.

The post’s title read: Guys, my boyfriend is getting married to his current partner. What should I do?

The comment section had already erupted into chaos.
“Dude, are you out of your mind? You’re the other woman here!”
“You’re the homewrecker and you dare post this to get roasted? Where’s your shame?”

The poster was firing back furiously, every word oozing unapologetic madness:
“We’ve been inseparable since we were kids! His first love, first kiss, first time—all mine!”
“He doesn’t even like that old hag; he’s only marrying her out of obligation!”
“Who’s the real mistress, anyway?”

I should have swiped past it like a silly joke, but my gaze was locked onto the poster’s profile picture.

It showed two hands laced together. Peeking out from the man’s wrist was a dark green watch dial—a Richard Mille Valentine’s Day limited edition. It was the seven-figure engagement gift I’d bought him by selling my mother’s last precious heirloom, the only one of its kind in the world.

My heart was squeezed tight by an icy hand, plummeting to the bottom in an instant.

I tapped into the account’s homepage. The second my finger swiped open the photo album, a dizzying, world-spinning sensation crashed over me.

In the photos, the man holding the girl closely was none other than Lu Yanchen—my fiancé, who was supposed to marry me in three days.

I stared at the screen. All the wedding hopes and love I’d saved up over three years shattered into nothing but dust at this moment.

I couldn’t believe it, yet I had to. The man who’d loved me for three years and sworn to protect me forever had been lying to me from start to finish.

My daughter has been blind since birth. On her eighteenth birthday, she finally received news of a matching cornea donor.
Our whole family was so excited we couldn't sleep that night. My husband and daughter eagerly prepared for the surgery, their hearts filled with hope that she would soon see the light.
But I suddenly slammed my hand on the table and, amidst the family's stunned gazes, proposed a divorce on the spot.
My husband's face turned ashen as he demanded harshly, "You want a divorce just because I'm going through with our daughter's surgery?"
I curled the corner of my mouth and enunciated every word: "That's right. Because you're going through with her surgery—this marriage is over."