1161 Book(s) Related to it ends with us who does lily end up with

"Your boss has asked me to take whatever I want to clear his debts. So I've chosen. And he was glad to give you to me, among other things."
"Get dressed," he ordered. Only then did I find the courage to speak.
"I have nothing to do with this. I can't be involved. I'm not the one owing you money. Ludovic..."
"Ludovic is dead."
"And you'll be careful not to end up the same way, doll. Get dressed, or I will make you."
Talia has spent her entire life as an escort to survive. But everything changes when she is kidnapped for reasons she doesn't understand and brought face to face with Lorenzo, the feared Mafia Don and King of the underworld. Intrigued by her, he claims her as his prized possession. She plays along, knowing it's the only way to stay alive. But resisting her dangerous attraction to him is becoming impossible.
An offer comes that she can't refuse—she's asked to spy on Lorenzo and end his reign. Talia yearns for freedom, but the more time she spends with him, the more her heart falters.
When the moment arrives, will she have the strength to betray him? Or will deeper feelings get in the way? Will she become his lover, or the reason for his destruction?

So, have you ever heard that saying that you shouldn’t feed stray animals because they’ll follow you home? Turns out that rule applies to demons too…
I didn’t even KNOW he was a demon, but now he insists he owes me his life. The catch? He can’t leave until he “repays the favor,” meaning he’s stuck following me around like some demonic shadow. The good news is, he’ll have plenty of chances to repay me.
Except… I’m starting to wonder if I want him to leave. Especially when he gives me that look, the one that makes my heart race. It’s the kind of look that makes me think I might not mind being saved a little too much.
Sure, he has a tail, but there’s something about him I can’t shake. Maybe it’s the way his voice drops when he gets close, or maybe it’s just because he washes the dishes after dinner. Either way, I’m starting to get attached. Not that it matters because he’s leaving. I know better than to fall for a demon… Right?

Fae are the WORST. Here I am, minding my own business when bam, I get yanked into a summoning circle. Honestly, whoever thought summoning demons was a good idea should be shown why everyone fears demons. Even better? This Fae spells me so I can’t go home until I kill someone for him.
The someone he wants me to kill? The woman who saved my life. Not only is she good, but I can’t bring myself to hurt her. And the worst part? She’s half fae too, that’s just asking for trouble. Now, I’m stuck, bound by my own magic, protecting her, while trying to ignore how much I want to stay. But I can’t. I have to leave eventually. Right?

Five years ago, my ex-boyfriend Jason said coldly when he abandoned me: "Charlotte, you're not worthy of my dreams."

Five years later, when I saw him again, he had become Floreton's tech mogul while I remained a simple sculptor. His new fiancée—a wealthy heiress—sneered at my modest attire: "Someone like you can actually afford to book a top-tier wedding venue?"

She stole my venue, crushed my fingers, and forced me to kneel and apologize: "Say you don't belong here!"

Jason stood by watching coldly, just as indifferent as he was on that rainy night five years ago.

I desperately thought this was my fate, until that familiar, furious voice echoed throughout the entire venue:

"What bastard touched my woman!"

My Bradley had arrived.

This time, I would be the one laughing last.

Liam O’Grady is a powerful loan shark and realtor, a man mixed in crime and an underground fighter, a King. He owns all the main gambling dens in the city and in the areas around and does not hesitate to use muscle or kill his opponents.
Between them, his half-brother Finn St Just and he run the city of Hunter’s Folly, with the strength of their muscle and money power.
The brothers are Dominants and they enjoy subjugating the women they take. And they have the habit of sharing a woman.
But the jaded Liam knows that something is missing. He has turned thirty and he feels cynical, bored.
Like a breath of fresh air, innocent young Bianca Cruz turns up at their doorstep, asking for help. The nineteen-year-old is trying to get her family free of the clutches of the evil Dean Nelson, who was also responsible for the death of her father.
Liam agrees to help her, for he is intrigued by the young woman who is untouched and other-worldly, an innocent who appeals to his jaded self. It is like a jest to him, this chance to bed a girl who is totally inexperienced in the ways of his world. A virgin at that!
He along with his brother proposes a deal with the desperate young woman. They will help her; they will even restore her father’s beloved bakery and hand it over to her.
But the price is this:
She will be their willing submissive for a year.
*
Does she cave in and accept their terms?
And what will happen during this year to the girl who has no experience of men?
Worse, what will happen to her at the end of the year?
For Bianca is a sensitive young girl.
And the men who will own her are experienced , hard-hearted and callous men who do not care for the women they bed…

Eleanor Blackheart’s life is already in shambles—divorced, alone, and hunted by the mafia. When her ex-husband, a member of the Blood Reapers crime family, bursts through her door with a mysterious silver chain and a death sentence on his heels, Eleanor is yanked into a deadly game she can’t escape. After he’s gunned down, a bike accident throws her into the arms of Don Knox, ruthless leader of the rival Iron Serpents. Saving her could spark a brutal war, but walking away is no longer an option for his heart beats for her. With the Blood Reapers demanding her head and Emily guarding a secret powerful enough to upend the criminal world, survival may come at the cost of everything—and everyone.

Kamila is a successful business woman who doesn't have luck with love. After her last breakup, her best friend advised her to get a dog.
She adopted two dogs without knowing that they were actually werewolves

Dylan and Ryan are twin brothers and Alpha of Silver Moon pack. They were travelling alone and got attacked by rogue. Too injured to heal on their own until they got picked by a pound.

Kamila adopted them and turned out to be their mate.
She found out about this two and her life changed in ways she couldn't imagine.

"You are ours. You have been ours since you were born and will always be ours"-Dylan
"You are our mate our life. You own us as much as we own you"- Ryan

Elroy has severe OCD. In the ten years we've been together, he's never allowed me to eat in his car.
On our tenth anniversary, we made plans to watch the stars together.
But just as I reached the mountaintop, my phone rang—it was him.
"Something came up at work. I can't make it tonight. You go ahead and enjoy the view."
The moment he hung up, I saw his female classmate's post about returning to the country.
Catalina was sitting in his passenger seat, holding a half-eaten piece of cake in her hands.
【Someone was afraid I'd get hungry coming back so late, so he specially brought me this little cake～】
Another picture showed Catalina's shoes—still on—planted firmly on the passenger seat.
【He says I'm the only exception to his OCD～ I can do whatever I want in his car, hehe.】
I looked up at the twinkling stars above me, a bitter smile tugging at my lips.
This was the tenth time he'd abandoned me.
Every single anniversary without fail, this "female classmate" of his would show up.
I once tried to gently tell him: "I don't want to be interrupted like this every time."
Elroy looked at me with displeasure. "Interrupted? Catalina is my friend. Can you not be so petty?"
The cold wind howled across the mountaintop. Catalina's words stuck in my heart like a thorn, stinging until my eyes grew wet.
After ten years, I'm done with this relationship.

Xie Yijin hated me more than anyone in this world.

He called me vicious as a scorpion, said I schemed about everything, stole all that belonged to Lin Wanwan, and destroyed the one he held dearest.

Xie Yijin shielded Lin Wanwan tightly behind him.
The eyes that once looked at me with such tenderness were now frozen over with unmelting ice.
He pointed straight at me, every word cutting like a blade:

"Shen Zhiyi, why don’t you just die?!"

I froze in place, my fingertips ice-cold.
Unconsciously, I still clutched that crumpled, yellowed candy wrapper.

He had given it to me when he was seven years old,
saying that when I grew up, he would marry me
and buy me candies for the rest of my life.

But now…
he only wanted me dead.

The night I was reborn, my adoptive brother—Viktor Konstantin, the Don of the Chicago Outfit—was poisoned during a negotiation.

In my past life, I loved him desperately. So when the aphrodisiac took hold and he gasped for me to call Liliya, I made a selfish choice. I stayed. I gave myself to him.

She arrived too late. When she saw us together, she ran. Her plane crashed over the Atlantic that same night.

Viktor married me without a word of blame. Until a turf war when our enemies captured me—seven months pregnant, chained up, beaten bloody. I called him, begging for help through my tears.

His answer shattered me: "You want to live? After killing Liliya? You and that bastard don't deserve to breathe. Go to hell, Eve."

I died in that cell. Our daughter died with me.

Now I'm staring into those same drugged eyes again.

This time, I'm making the call.

In her previous life, Clara Bennett was switched at birth and ended up in the hands of a greedy adoptive family. Betrayed and used, she met a tragic end.

Given a second chance, Clara chooses to walk away from the Bennett family and returns to her poor but loving biological parents, the Howards. Everyone thinks she'll regret giving up her life as a wealthy heiress.

But no one expected the truth—Clara is actually the CEO of a powerful corporation. Not only does she lift the Howards out of poverty, she also marries the heir of a billionaire family.

This time, she's not just surviving. She's reclaiming her life and rewriting her destiny.

When Dorian Falco’s stepsister and secret lover was found brutally violated in a slum alleyway, the Mafia Don lost his fucking mind.
And he blamed me.
He dragged me into the manor's dungeon, throwing me to a dozen of his most depraved enforcers.
"Whatever Camilla suffered, you'll pay back a thousand times over."
I collapsed on the freezing floor, sobbing as I desperately clutched his pant leg. "I love you! I would never hurt her! Please, Dorian, believe me!"
Dorian only offered his cruelest sneer.
"Jealous that she gets the real thing? Fine. I'll make you filthier than she ever was."
He locked me in that blood-stained cell for seven days and nights.
His thugs, given carte blanche by the Don, whipped me with chains and violated me without restraint. I screamed Dorian's name in the darkness until my throat shredded.
Seven days later, Dorian returned with a recovering Camilla.
He stood outside the heavy iron door, his voice dripping with mock generosity.
"Crawl out here, Saoirse. Get on your knees, kiss Camilla's shoes, and maybe—just maybe—I'll let you live."
Silence. No answer.
Because three days ago, I had already died in that cell.

In my past life, I replaced my runaway sister Beatrice and was forced to marry mob enforcer Rowan Sinclair.
She thought he was poor with no future, so she ran. My parents didn't even tell me before sending me in her place.
Rowan knew the truth. He carried it like shame, never truly seeing me—only cold stares and silent contempt. I spent years beside him like an unwanted ghost, carefully managing his world while he rose from despised smuggler to feared godfather.
Then his attitude began to change.
Just when I thought we might have a real future, Beatrice returned with tears and lies, claiming I'd stolen her place. Rowan believed her. My parents betrayed me. Everyone chose her.
When a rival family captured us both, guns to our heads, only one could survive.
Rowan pulled Beatrice into his arms and abandoned me without a glance.
They tortured me for three days. The baby in my womb died first. Its father never knew it existed.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to that afternoon before it all began.

My daughter died on her seventh birthday.
I held her in the cold ward as her body slowly lost all warmth.
Meanwhile, her father—my husband Vincent—was on a mountain top with his mistress, making love to her all night long.
He said, "She’s just a child. There’ll be better ones sooner or later."
He said, "Camila, you’re the only one I love."
He has no idea that he’s killed the only soul in this world that loved him unconditionally.
After the divorce, I am no longer the meek Mrs. Lucchese who begged for his affection.
Funeral, scandal, a worthless bastard...
Everything I lost, I will make him pay for—with his entire family.

'Stefano, you don't have a say in who I date."

'I do when it concerns your safety."

'Since when did you care about my safety?"

'Since the day you walked into my life," Stefano says, shocking me to the bone.

Andrea Lopez is a beautiful woman with a wonderful life.

Andrea has everything but the one thing she desires most, Love.

All she has ever received from Love is pain in return. There is no love in her life, but everything changes when she takes a trip to Italy.

She reunites with her first Love, Stefano Costanzo, a cold, ruthless man who hates Love.

He would rather pull his heart out of his body than feel Love, but for how long will he hate Love?

Will the cold, ruthless man allow himself to love again, or will our Andrea never find Love?

She has lived hundreds of lives and each one ended horribly.
He, once her companion, cannot forget her beyond time.
She, kidnapped into a world unknown to her, tries everything to get back home. But what are these dreams?

[…] Stones are thrown at dirty mutts… Rats are burned… […]

Immerse yourself in the world of Athaerion.

When he found out I’d injured my leg and couldn't scrub in to deliver the billionaire's baby tomorrow, my boyfriend’s first reaction wasn't concern. He gritted his teeth and snapped, "Hannah, you did this on purpose, didn't you? Why today of all days? Are you really throwing away your entire career just to spite me?!"
I didn't argue. I just stared at the medical chart labeled Eleanor Whitlock, my fingers trembling.
In my past life, I took this assignment. I was drugged and locked in a supply closet. A few hours later, the mother and baby were dead—and the security footage showed a nurse with my face poisoning them. I died in a damp prison cell, branded a murderer.
Reborn into this life, I just wanted to escape this fatal trap.
But somehow, the security cameras had once again captured "me" walking into that delivery room.

Seven years of deep affection, expectations with a pregnant belly, and all I got was his betrayal in marriage and false promises. I gambled my youth and sincerity, only to end up with an absurd scam. After waking up, we owe each other nothing and will have no more ties.

They called me the kingdom’s light.

They worshipped me… until they decided I was a threat.

On the night I was meant to become queen, my sister smiled as she betrayed me.

My fiancé watched as I was condemned.

And then he threw me into the abyss. They thought I died.

But something down there was waiting for me. Now I’m back. Not as a princess.

Not as a saint. But as something far worse. I wear a servant’s face. I bow my head.

I play their game. And the man who killed me? He can’t stop watching me.

Touching me. Wanting me. If he discovers who I am, he’ll destroy me again.
But this time… I’ll destroy him first.

Four years ago, Giovanni dumped me in front of everyone at an upscale restaurant. Two weeks later, he was engaged to Rosanna. I made a fool of myself begging on his doorstep, became the laughingstock of Ferro City.
Four years later, he runs into me at Casa Valentino, assumes I'm destitute, and offers me a job as a cleaner for him.
What he doesn't know is that the plainly dressed woman standing before him is the wife of Don Alessandro Valentino—the man the entire underworld bows to.

I killed my fated mate to survive.

Beta Shax Wulfric was the pack’s most ruthless hunter, sent to drag me back in chains. So I ended him. Or I thought I did.

Months later, he finds me again. Alive. Amnesiac. And utterly convinced I’m his wife… and the child in my arms is ours.

Now the monster who once rejected and humiliated me looks at me like I’m his entire world. He touches me like I’m something precious.

If he remembers, he’ll kill me.
If he doesn’t, I might fall for him all over again.

At thirty-five, I finally die— only to wake up as Isabella Montague, the stunning heroine of a fantasy novel I wrote as a stupid teen.

My plan? A world-class retirement involving heavy naps and bottomless snacks.

But the 'perfect' men I created are ruining the plan.

The brooding Northern Duke won't stop watching me. The Golden Prince is convinced my disinterest is actually a challenge. My knight—and best friend—is ready to burn the world down if I so much as yawn. And a certain Elven noble who swore off humans keeps finding excuses to be near my tea.

They want my heart. I just want my pillow.

Too bad the world is cursed, the Queen wants me dead, and everyone keeps trying to put me on a throne I never asked for.

Can't a girl just chill?

Trigger/Content Warning:
This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised.
It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language.
This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire.


“Take off your dress, Meadow.”

“Why?”

“Because your ex is watching,” he said, leaning back into his seat. “And I want him to see what he lost.”

••••••••••••*
Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance.

One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger’s offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring.

Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel.
He also suffers from a neurological condition—he can’t feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch.

Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed.
She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience… revenge.
But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming.

Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything.

Alaric doesn’t share what’s his.
Not his company.
Not his wife.
And definitely not his vengeance.

At my bastard father's birthday party, I was drugged by my sister Emily—and worse, she planned to have her boyfriend assault me. As the substance coursed through my veins, desire began overwhelming my rational mind. But in that moment of vulnerability, my contract husband saved me. I found myself burning only for him. What started as his attempt to help me through the drug's effects became a night of raw, passionate intimacy that shattered every boundary we'd carefully constructed. In his arms, I discovered a hunger I never knew existed, and he claimed me with a possessive intensity that left us both breathless...
*
When Amelia Thompson signed that marriage contract, she never knew her husband was an FBI undercover agent.
Ethan Black approached her to investigate Viktor Group—the corrupt corporation where her late mother worked. To him, Amelia was just another lead, possibly the conspirator's daughter he was sworn to destroy.
But three months of marriage changed everything. Her warmth and fierce independence dismantled every defense around his heart—until the day she vanished.
Three years later, she returns with their child, seeking the truth about her mother's death. And he's no longer just an FBI agent, but a man desperate to win her back.
A Marriage Contract. A Life-Changing Inheritance. A Heart-Shattering Betrayal.
This time, can love survive the ultimate deception?

I died the day I caught my fiancé cheating.

I had walked in on my cousin and my fiancé, completely naked in the backseat of a brand-new Porsche. It was a car bought with stolen money—embezzled from the estate of my recently deceased grandmother, Margaret.

Panic had set in the moment I discovered them. To stop me from calling the cops, he slammed his foot on the gas.

As a pool of warm blood spread beneath my head, I heard him lying to the first responders: "She’s mentally unstable. She threw herself right in front of the car."

I died exactly like that—labeled a hysterical, suicidal woman.

But just when I thought it was all over, my eyes snapped open.

The hot blood that had just blurred my vision, the shattering agony in my bones—it was all gone.

I clutched my pregnancy test results in my hand, standing outside the door of Ethan's office.

I wanted to surprise my husband with this news.

Instead, I overheard a conversation about how to "permanently remove" me from his and our daughter's lives.

When that dealer tortured me, my dad, a narcotics cop, and my mom, the city’s chief medical examiner, were busy celebrating my sister’s win in the volleyball semifinals. To get back at my dad for destroying his drug network three years earlier, that man cut my throat. Right before I died, I called my dad. Before I hung up, he said, “Cut it out. Serena’s game is what mattered most right now.”

I thought my husband was cheating, so I followed him to catch him in the act, only to witness him kill someone on our wedding anniversary.

His hands were still covered in blood when he touched my red hair and asked me what was wrong.

Was he the legendary "Red Hair Reaper"?

When the police came knocking the next day, I told them everything.

But they would never know—even the murder I "witnessed" that night was nothing but a performance staged for them from beginning to end.

"Did you bring one back?" My mom, Siobhan, urged.
I pushed my half-empty mug to the center of the cafe table. The campus buzzed around me, students stressing over minor things like finals.
"I’m still at school, Mom."
"The Summer Solstice is in exactly one month, Maeve." The line crackled.
"If you cross that water empty-handed, Finn is going to the pens. Are you going to let your own brother be taken?"

My daughter begged me, tears in her eyes, to take her to gymnastics camp—just the two of us.

I thought it was her way of proving she loved me.

I was wrong.

In that hotel room in Toronto, I overheard my husband's voice—with another woman.

“Don't worry, Sophia will find a way to stay a few more days. I promised her that blue limited-edition leotard.”

“Her body now… after giving birth, it's ruined.”

In that moment, my world collapsed.

I thought I'd only been betrayed by my husband.
But the daughter I raised with everything I had—she was his accomplice.

The child I nurtured with my own hands kept clearing the path: so that woman could sleep in my bed, wear the lingerie I could no longer fit into, sneer in front of the mirror at every single mark my body earned from bringing life into this world.

I once believed that giving up my career would be enough to hold my family together.

But they joined hands to tell me: my sacrifice was never honored. It was a joke.

When a woman who has given everything to her family finally wakes up—

Her revenge will make every single one of them remember exactly what they did.

My daughter Lily was shot dead while she was performing on her own stage.
I rushed forward to shield her, and a speaker crashed down onto my right shoulder. The bone shattered.
My husband, Vincent, “shot the gunman dead” at once and sealed off the entire opera house.
When I woke up in the hospital room, the pain almost suffocated me. My right shoulder was wrapped in thick bandages, and when I tried to raise my arm, all I felt was a numb.
“…This isn’t what we agreed on.” The doctor’s voice was low and unsteady. “We only needed her blood sample for matching. Why did it have to go this far?”
“Lily’s blood type is a perfect match. This is the best possible outcome,” Vincent said. “I married Elena for this moment. I’ve been waiting for it.”
The doctor was silent for a few seconds. “But she’s your daughter… There’s no need to sacrifice a life, even if she is a Salaceno.”
Vincent cut him off. “You know how long an artificial heart can last. Camila’s daughter won’t hold out for long. I can’t put her through another surgery.”
“Camila’s child is the one I should cherish.”
At that moment, my blood ran cold. In his eyes, my daughter was nothing but an organ container.
He had no idea. All that talk about protecting his precious daughter—she wasn't even his.

They told me the baby was gone, but they didn't tell me my heart was being carved out, too.

I woke up on the operating table, paralyzed. Through my blurred vision, I saw my beloved husband, Marco, trembling with excitement as he held my medical chart.

"Her blood is perfect," he whispered. "It is a perfect match for Isabella. We can proceed with the transplant now."

"Finally. It wasn't in vain that I brought her back." My revered father let out a sigh of relief. "If it weren't for this day, how would someone who wandered outside for so many years be qualified to step into this house again?"

When my husband said "I love you," he actually meant "Your heart is perfect for the woman I truly love."

I couldn't scream; I couldn't move.

I could only watch helplessly as the silver scalpel pierced toward my chest, while my sister, Isabella, lay on the operating table next to me, smiling in her sleep.

I was never a long-lost daughter, nor was I a beloved wife.

I was just a mobile blood bank waiting to be slaughtered.

On our one-year anniversary, my husband Julian gifted me an antique ring.
Putting it on cost me everything.
I miscarried, grew paralyzed, and rapidly withered into a husk. And Julian? He convinced everyone that the trauma had simply driven a grieving mother insane.
Eventually, even I believed him.
It wasn’t until the moment of my murder that the truth finally clicked.
The ring wasn't a blessing; it was a parasitic siphon.
Then, I opened my eyes—
I was back at the anniversary dinner.

I almost died on the operating table trying to give Alexander Volkov a child, unaware he already had a pair of illegitimate twins with his childhood sweetheart.
My heart stopped when I saw the DNA results. Alec, the man who made the New York underworld tremble, the man who flew back on a private jet just to hold my hand, was a flawless liar.
I turned my face away, tears soaking the hospital pillow. My hand drifted to my belly. God had finally decided to give me a break after five years of needles and agony—I was pregnant. But now, it felt like the cruelest joke.
He pulled me into his arms, smelling of expensive cologne and... baby formula.
"Tell me what's wrong, honey. Whoever made you unhappy, I'll make them pay."
I stared into his lying eyes and made my decision.
I would vanish with his unborn child, leaving him to rot in eternal regret.

I once loved Ryan deeply and helped him become the Alpha, only to be rewarded with chains in a dungeon and the mocking laughter of him and his mistress.

Fate gave me a second chance—I woke up reborn on the morning of the mate selection ceremony. There he was, still ordering me around in front of everyone, expecting me to play the obedient servant.

Everyone tried to convince me that Ryan, the man who killed me, is the "right choice."

Yet I chose Connor—the man feared by the entire clan, the one who will bring ruin to the clan for the sake of his one true love.

This time, I refuse to be the stepping stone on Ryan's climb to power.

I'm going to make everyone see who truly holds the reins.

"What kind of sick game are you playing?" my husband, Mark, snapped through the phone.
I stared at my heavy plaster cast and said nothing.
In my previous life, distant relatives brought a bag of cash to my clinic, begging me to bump my cousin up the surgery waitlist. I refused.
By morning, the money vanished.
Security footage showed someone in my scrubs, with my exact face, stealing it.
My colleague, Sarah, and my husband accused me of taking the bribe. They destroyed my career. My cousin died waiting.
Driven mad by grief, her parents ran me down with their truck.
Reborn, when I saw the new surveillance footage, I finally understood who she was.

"You have two months to live." The doctor's death sentence was still ringing in my ears when I found the receipt in his pocket.

[Four Seasons Hotel. Romance Suite. Check-in: 3:00 PM.]

3:00 PM. The exact moment I was begging the doctor for painkillers, Alexander was in a hotel bed with another woman.

I looked at him, sleeping soundly beside me. I had loved this man for five years, sold everything to help him succeed. Now, in the final countdown of my life, he gave me the most fatal blow.

"I'm exhausted from meetings," he had lied, smelling of Santal 33 and another woman's sex.

I clenched the receipt until my nails dug into my flesh. I wouldn't tell him about the cancer.

I would use whatever time I had left to make him regret ever being born.

"You sure dispatch called this... natural causes?" I gripped the steering wheel, staring at the perfect suburban house.
"That's what they said," Gates muttered. The victim's father, Arthur, stood at the door in pressed khakis, weeping.
He swore his daughter, Grace, died in her sleep last night after eating vanilla pudding.
But the moment we stepped inside, a suffocating cocktail of cheap lavender spray and rotting meat punched me in the sinuses.
In the living room, SpongeBob SquarePants was blasting at maximum volume. Grace was slumped in a recliner. When Gates gently pinched her wrist to lift her arm, a sickeningly soft, tearing rip echoed in the room.
Her grayish skin completely degloved, fused to the leather armrest. Beneath the liquefied muscle tissue, frantic rows of tiny white maggots wriggled into the exposed bone.
A body that died "last night" doesn't breed maggots.

I was squatting on the floor, wiping up the juice spilled by a customer when I ran into my ex-husband, Tan Yeming.
It was our first meeting in the three years since our divorce.
He was just as cold and arrogant as before.
“You must have suffered enough these three years. If you’ve learned your lesson, come home with me.”
I was alone at the restaurant today, and I was too busy to deal with him.
He stood in front of the counter, looking at me, wanting to say something but hesitating. “Zhengzheng, I’m talking to you…”
I cut him off. “Sir, would you like to order something?”
“If not, please step aside. You’re holding up the other customers.”
He was left speechless and only after a long pause asked, “Zhengzheng, what’s wrong with you?”
I still didn’t answer.
Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t love him anymore.

"Help! Somebody help me! Julian is trying to kill my baby!" I scream at the top of my lungs, bursting into my gender reveal party.

Just minutes ago, Julian was my perfect, doting husband. Then he opens my unborn baby's genetic screening report. The unadulterated ferocity and revulsion simmering in his eyes makes my entire body shake. He grips my arm, demanding I terminate the pregnancy.

I already died once because of that piece of paper. In my past life, they dragged me to a freezing lab, pumped me full of drugs, and murdered my child before locking me in an asylum.

This time, I hide behind the guests. But my parents storm in. After seeing the report, instead of saving me, Dad kicks me squarely in the stomach.

"You shameless little whore," he spits.

They are about to drag me out the back door when two police officers step through the glass doors. The cop hands me the confiscated report.

I look down at the printed words... and finally understand.

"Someone is right behind you."
It's the most common comment I get in the chat during my late-night streams.
But when that exact phrase abruptly hijacked my screen, spammed in bold, blood-red letters, my blood ran completely cold.
Because deep down, I knew. This time, they weren't joking.
It was real.

My birthday was never truly mine.

Everyone was busy making sure she was comfortable, happy, and protected.
When she deliberately handed me chamomile tea—knowing I was allergic—they told me not to hurt my sister’s good intentions and forced me to drink it.

My brother accused me of being jealous and locked me in the basement.

They all forgot about me to celebrate her birthday, even my fiancé.

Lying there, I realized something worse than pain—I was replaceable.

That was the day I understood the truth about my family.
I was dying on “my” birthday, and no one chose me.

An hour ago, at the company’s press conference, I had just helped my husband Carlisle quell the ninety-ninth scandal of his affair.
Now, he has my assistant Russell pinned against my office desk, kissing him, his hand slipping under Russell’s miniskirt and groping wildly.
In that moment, I’ve already planned the publicity spin for the hundredth time.
But I’m not sure if my dear husband Carlisle and his lover will make it that far.
Because the revenge banquet I’ve been preparing for three years is about to begin.

Seamus O'Sullivan, Don of the Irish Mafia, forged a custom gold crest ring to find the woman he’d met at that ball.

He decreed that whoever could wear it would become his bride.

We had all died trying to claim it.

I had already watched my stepsister starve herself to the bone to wear it, only to take a bullet to the head on her wedding night.

I'd seen my stepmother hack off her own finger to force it on, earning herself cement shoes at the bottom of the Atlantic.

By my third life, they pushed me out, and I slipped the ring on easily. I really thought I was his bride. But on our wedding night, when the Don kissed my inner thigh, he snapped—and smothered me with a pillow.

He forced it over my face. I thrashed and clawed, but he pinned me down.

"Why isn't it her?!" he roared through the feathers. "Where is she?!"

Now, I was awake again. The fourth lifetime.

I was nine months pregnant, soaking in the tub, when an anonymous email popped up.
The first attachment was my husband’s medical report. [Severe Azoospermia. 100% Sterile.]
I touched my swollen belly. If Arthur was sterile, whose baby was this?
The second attachment was a news article. [Billionaire's Pregnant Wife Drowns in Master Bath.]
The publication date was tomorrow morning. I thought it was a sick prank.
Then, the bathroom door opened. My husband stood there, loosening his tie.
"You look beautiful tonight," he murmured.

I was reborn on the exact day I was supposed to sign the marriage contract with the Alpha Kael.

I didn't hesitate. I crossed out my name and wrote my stepsister's instead. Let her have the bastard. I took my mother's estate back and headed straight to the underground shifter bar.

"Bring me the hottest wolf warriors you've got. All of them," I told the bartender, slapping a wad of cash down.

I was done being the obedient Luna.

On our first wedding anniversary, I walked into my husband's office and found him having sex with my best friend.

He didn't even apologize. Instead, claiming he was disgusted that I hadn't produced an heir in a year of marriage, he threw divorce papers in my face.

Five years later, I returned to New York with my new husband—Cassian Vitiello, the Godfather of the North American underworld.

Vincent ran into me at the docks. He handed me a business card, offering me a job as a nanny for his mistress's son.

What he didn't know was that the woman he was mocking was now the Donna—the woman the entire East Coast underground feared.

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.”