8892 Book(s) Related to a guard for the reckless don

In my past life, I exposed my cousin Isolde's deadly secret just to save Darius from absolute ruin, binding myself to him in a Soul Pact instead.

My reward?

At three months pregnant, Darius chained me to a water dungeon altar, carved my stomach open alive, and smashed our unborn child to pieces right in front of my eyes—all as a twisted sacrifice to my cousin who supposedly "died for love."

When I opened my eyes again, I was right back at the Pact Selection Ceremony.

Watching him pull her into his arms like some priceless treasure, I simply smiled and took a tactful step back.

In this life, I am going to sit back and watch the two of them burn in hell together.

Our ceremony was ambushed underground. One exit. Corvin was the only one who could move fast enough to carry someone out.
In my last life, he chose me — and left Niamh behind. She didn't make it. He spent five years after that making sure I understood what that meant. Every day I woke up was a day she couldn't. When I finally ran out of ways to leave quietly, I chose a window that faced east and walked into it.
Now I'm back. Same corridor, same chaos, same choice.
This time, I said: "Take Niamh."
The way his shoulders came down — like something he'd been holding for years, finally put down — told me everything five years together never did.
He promised to come back. He was already moving when he said it.
I knew I had to get out myself. But the ferals who'd killed Niamh last time found my corridor before I made it to the stairs.

Our clan worships the Spider Goddess.
To keep this face, every girl in our bloodline must sacrifice a truly evil man every ten years.
Just two weeks before my twentieth birthday, my mom asked me again over the phone:
"Sweetie, is it really that hard to find a sufficiently bad guy in a place like Ashfield?"
Right now, I’m looking at my boyfriend, who just handcuffed me to a bed. He’s laughing, negotiating a price with a buyer, thinking I’m tonight’s merchandise.
I think to myself—
Mom, I can answer your question now. This guy’s wickedness easily rivals your husband's—my father.

My name is Arthur, Atlantic City’s number one pauper and absolute peerless coward.
On the outside, I roar with sheer arrogance: "The debt collector has returned from Hell!"
On the inside, I’m sobbing hysterically: "Mommy, save me! I really don‘t want to act tough!"
My name is Arthur, a complete coward whose hands shake even when trying to kill a chicken.
That was, until I was bound to a completely unhinged [Absolute Bully System].
[Ding! Novice Bully Quest: Crash the Mafia banquet and splash red wine on the face of the corporate heiress!]
[Ding! Advanced Quest: Steal the Underground Godfather's wife!]
[Ding! Ultimate Quest: Walk right up to the Underground Godfather and slap him mercilessly across the face!]
"Screw you! I don't even have the guts to kill a chicken, and you want me to beat up the Emperor of the Underworld? No way! I'd rather starve to death than dig my own grave!"
[Ding! Host's refusal detected. Punishment impending: Serial sphincter rupture resulting in explosive public diarrhea, accompanied by penile retraction into the abdomen, and the reverse fracturing of all 206 bones. It will take seven days and seven nights for you to finally die! Countdown: 3 seconds.]
"... System Daddy, I was wrong."
To avoid dying of explosive diarrhea, I had no choice but to let the System control my body, kick the doors open, heft a Gatling gun, and laugh maniacally: "So you're supposed to be the Underground Emperor?!"
But deep down in my heart, I was wailing uncontrollably: "Mommy, save me! I really don't want to act tough anymore!"

Just before my wedding, my fate mate, my Alpha fiancé, Micheal, stripped me of my wedding dress—our wedding dress—and handed it to his mistress, Becky Porter.
Not only that, but he locked me in the dressing room like some rabid wolf he needed to contain.
"Becky has a terminal illness.She just wants to experience being a bride before she dies."
I lunged forward, my wolf howling inside me. Alpha's strength pressed against mine, his dominance forcing my muscles to lock. My claws twitched, itching to break free.
"You bastard!" I snarled, my breath ragged.
Micheal barely blinked. Instead, he let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head .
"She’s dying, and you can’t even show a little compassion?" His tone dripped with disappointment, as if I were the villain here. "You’re only losing a wedding, but Becky… Becky is losing her dreams and her life."

Alpha Alexander, the most powerful billionaire alpha in Europe, realised he wanted a wife, a luna who wasn't solely motivated by money but was willing to bear him a child and then leave once he grew tired of pretending to be a happy family for his grandmother's sake. Despite these conflicting needs, Alpha Alexander was convinced that his ideal Luna existed somewhere in the world, and he was determined to find her, no matter what. But she was a challenge he never expected.

Waking up with boobs, beauty, and deadly lightning powers wasn’t on Abby’s bingo card—but then again, neither was dying of a terminal illness and reincarnating as a bullied noblewoman in a magical kingdom.
Now Lady Abby MacMayer has one goal: live loud, live free, and never be a victim again. With a sword in one hand and sarcasm in the other, she shocks the realm—literally—and catches the eye of the kingdom’s most powerful and brooding mage, Duke Alaric.
He’s duty. She’s chaos.
He trains her to control her power. She ruins his peace of mind.
The sparks? Not just magical.
But when a war brews, a dungeon rift opens, and a prophecy threatens the man she loves, Abby vanishes in battle… only to return years later with no memory and no magic.
Everyone believes she’s lost.
Only the queen knows she remembers everything—and is hiding the truth to protect Alaric from a fate worse than heartbreak.
Lightning may strike twice... but love?
Love will burn through time, lies, and destiny itself.

Kiara, an alluring young lady was a big time slut. That was her only speciality. She was given birth to by a prostitute and was also brought up by a prostitute. Don't get it twisted, they were two different women. So you wouldn't blame her, would you? It runs in the blood.

As a prostitute that she was, she was not meant to love but what happens when she fell for a player?

Alexander, the heir and only successor to Alexander group of companies. His companies were well known and highly acknowledged in the whole Texas. In spite of how young Alexander was, all his employees feared him. He was so rude and sensitive.

He gives absolutely no damn about anyone- well, maybe except one person though; His grandma- his weakness. And maybe his best friend as well; Mack. Alexander was a handsome young man, a big time player; who screwed ladies with no strings attached. He was forced to get married at his young age in order to get rid his wayward attitude, but as a player that he was, would he agree easily? And what happens when a player incredulously acknowledged a slut?

On the night before my sister's bone marrow transplant, my parents confiscated my EpiPen and locked me in the attic.

Their "genetic consultant" warned them that the medication would contaminate the stem cells meant for my sister.

I had eaten the meal they provided—one secretly laced with lethal traces of nuts.

The resulting anaphylactic swelling was suffocating me completely.

I frantically bashed my head against the door. "My pen... Mom, I can't breathe..."

"Stop putting on a show!" Mom snapped through the wood. "That meal was entirely nut-free! Are you faking an allergic reaction just because you can't stand the thought of your sister finally getting well?"

Her footsteps retreated.

Agonizing pain and oxygen deprivation overtook me as I clawed at the floor until every one of my nails snapped off.

Until my breathing stopped completely.

Before the apocalypse hit, my ex-girlfriend called me, laughing like a maniac: "Jack, you pathetic loser—still playing that stupid farming game? Gonna whack zombies with a hoe? Open the door right now, get on your knees, and beg us, and maybe we'll throw you some table scraps."
I listened to the faint scrape of a tactical knife being drawn on the other end of the line, and silently glanced at my computer screen—at the maxed-out Greenfield Manor game, with its gold cap glowing at [999,999,999] .
"You misheard." I dropped my voice, lacing it with just the right amount of embarrassment. "I was checking the weather forecast."
The other end erupted in unrestrained laughter: "Then forecast this—how you're gonna die today!"
I hung up without changing my expression, flipped open the system, and spent a million on the [Absolute Defense Shield] —then brought out a steaming plate of roasted meat.
Forecast?
I forecast that tonight, you'll be gnawed down to bare bones by zombies.

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."

My brother chose my enemy, and the man I loved joined forces with her to sell me into a club.
Pregnancy, miscarriage, imprisonment, beatings—every cry for help I made was dismissed as "just an act."
It wasn't until I was truly dead that they lost their minds, dropping to their knees at my grave and sobbing that they were sorry.
But by then, I could no longer hear them.

With one week left until the wedding, Henry Jones asked me to reschedule the date—for one simple reason:
“On our wedding day, I’m taking Ann to the hospital for her prenatal checkup.”
Ann is the widow of his brother Ethan. She’s also my half-sister. In that private room, they laughed at me for being “almost thirty and desperate to get married.”
Ann put on an innocent face. “If Rory is really in such a rush… I can reschedule my appointment.”
I wanted to break up, and Henry frowned as he lectured me:
“As her future sister-in-law, why do you have to fight her over this one day?”
I asked him, “Do you even remember what Friday is?”
He coaxed me softly: “One day earlier or later—what’s the difference?” I nodded and said “Fine,” thinking I could still swallow it.
Until I pressed my fingerprint to enter his office and overheard Ann questioning him about inheritance, and Henry answered under his breath, “It won’t come to that—I won’t let Rory get pregnant with my child.”
That was the moment I u

Five years ago, the Savage family poisoned my parents, broke both my legs, and threw me into the river. I barely survived — pulled out by passing mercenaries, I spent five years building an army that answers only to me.

Today, five years later, I’ve returned with that army for revenge. I thought they would be terrified and beg for mercy. I never imagined they’d be insane enough to kidnap my daughter — a daughter I didn’t even know existed, Mia.

She’s crying in an abandoned warehouse, her tiny hand clutching an old coat I left behind five years ago, calling out “Daddy.”

My wife, to save her, is taking off her dress in front of another man.

Outside the warehouse, ten thousand soldiers are waiting for my command.

And in my heart, there is only one thought: kill them all.

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.

Detective Donald Eric carries the weight of Sarah Vale's death, a hostage situation gone wrong due to his reckless arrogance. Unbeknownst to him, Sarah's sister Doris has spent over a decade in England nursing her grief and rage.
When she finally learns the truth about her sister's death, she returns to America and hires a sadistic contract killer to systematically destroy Donald's family without knowing his identity.
But a chance encounter in Las Vegas, a passionate one-night stand with a handsome stranger complicates everything. That stranger is Donald Eric himself.

Alexandre Bordeaux and Sophia Nomura have been close friends for years. Although they know a lot about one another, there is one thing that Alex doesn't know about Sophia. That she happens to be his Domme, Mistress Widow, that he sees on the regular to give him what he needs. Although he has feelings for Sophia, he doesn't think she can give him what he needs like Mistress Widow can. But after the reveal of who each other really are, their past sub and experimental Domme gets in the way and causes havoc.

Warnings: Sexual Content, Violence, Hardcore BDSM, Sexual Assault, Rape.

Age Suggestion: 18+

The Desire Trilogy: A Domme and Male Submissive Trilogy is created by Minette Enfers, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

R18+, M/M/F, Taboo
Warning: Once you start Sex With The Maid, clear your schedule. Seriously. You would not be able to put this story down. At the end of every chapter, you will be wanting more.

Cerci:
I have always walked my own path. All my life I have work to meet earn needs and to protect Jon from getting into trouble, and sleep when I could find the time. Then I became their maid, and everything changed.

Bernard Stark:
Over five hundred people turn to watch my show everyday. They like and believe in me. One of the reasons is because I am the only son from the famous Stark family. I also think it is because, I am honest when it comes to my reporting. Well, I am honest about everything except the man I have been fucking for four years... and now this woman, Cerci. I enjoy fucking her too.

George Clement:
I desire three things in life: first my lovers, Bernard Stark and Cerci Lannister in my bed, fucking them. Second, I want to be the motherfucking best chef in the entire country. And third, I want to find out how to get both of these things mentioned above, without hurting anyone.

The Dragon's Stolen Bride: A Heart Between Two Worlds
GENRE
Fantasy Romance, Dragon Shifter Romance, Mistaken Identity, Royal Romance

“I refuse to stay here with you.” Analina said with anger. “I don’t care you are my wife now, so accept your fate this is your destiny.” Draven said to her confidently. As he told her about his feelings on the matter he went up to her grabbing by the waist and throwing her onto the bed. Getting on top of her he rips of her dress and panties as he does the same with his clothes. “You are my wife, and we are going to consummate our marriage every morning, day and night. Wherever I want and any time I want.” He told her. “NO DON’T TOUCH ME!!!” “I would stop fighting it if I were you, it will be a lot worst if you do.” “I AM NOT YOUR WIFE, THIS IS ILLEGAL, YOU FORCCED ME.”.
Flashback To That Night
“Let us get started, shall we? Do you Draven Chavez take Analina Stratton to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love to hold through good times and bad, sickness and in health and to cherish till death you part?” “I do.” Analina, do you take Draven Chavez to be your lawfully wedded husband to love and hold through good times and bad, sickness and health and cherish her till death do you part?” “N…OOO.” Something metal shoved into my back, and it could only be one thing. “Y…...S…...I…...O…” I studder out scared to death of what may happen if I don’t. “I now pronounce you husband and wife you may kiss the bride. “Finally.” Draven says as he pulls me to him and kisses me on the lips with passion that I didn’t know that he had.

Because of Zara’s excessive drunkenness, she accidentally had a One Night Stand with the man she had always been dreaming about – Lucas Blackwood. Unfortunately, Lucas despised Zara for spreading her legs and then he threatened her after ruining his relationship with a long-time fiancée.
Things became more complicated when Zara became pregnant and Lucas was obliged to marry her. After the marriage, Lucas made sure to punish Zara for ruining his life.
It’s a loveless marriage but as soon as Zara asked for a divorce, Lucas realized that the woman has earned a place in his heart. He became possessive to his soon-to-be ex-wife, and their loveless marriage turned into a beautiful love story.

Because of Zara’s excessive drunkenness, she accidentally had a One Night Stand with the man she had always been dreaming about – Lucas Blackwood. Unfortunately, Lucas despised Zara for spreading her legs and then he threatened her after ruining his relationship with a long-time fiancée.
Things became more complicated when Zara became pregnant and Lucas was obliged to marry her. After the marriage, Lucas made sure to punish Zara for ruining his life.
It’s a loveless marriage but as soon as Zara asked for a divorce, Lucas realized that the woman has earned a place in his heart. He became possessive to his soon-to-be ex-wife, and their loveless marriage turned into a beautiful love story.

Nora Williams was a fake celebrity influencer who built her reputation by wearing fake designer items online.

She was a minor celebrity in real life but a major one on the internet. Everyone believed she was a wealthy and privileged heiress; however, in reality, she struggled to make ends meet, barely able to pay her rent.

One fateful night, she encountered a powerful man, Leon Carruso, who saw through her fake image. Instead of exposing her, he offered to turn her fictional life into reality. "This perfect life that you want it so badly... I could make it happen in the blink of an eye, but there is one condition – you must marry me in return, Nora…”

“This life you promised me; why didn’t you warn me about it? Why didn’t you tell me it was you from back then? You tricked me into marrying you!”

“Well, let me explain…”

I was cruising leisurely down a desert highway when three Harley motorcycles pulled up behind me, claiming one of their crew was injured.

I pulled over to help — and they stole my truck.

I called the police — and the cops arrested me as an accomplice.

Aston Whitmore thought I loved him. Truth is, his mother bought a year of my life for a million dollars.
He thought those 3 AM study sessions were about redemption and romance across class lines. He didn't know I was never watching his pretty face—I was watching the countdown to my mother's kidney transplant payment.
I froze this trust fund prince's credit cards, cut his internet, and nailed him to that desk until his eyes went bloodshot cramming calculus.
When he turned into a guard dog in front of the whole cafeteria, publicly staking his claim on me, all I was calculating was the date that final payment would clear.
Today, he burst through the mansion door clutching his Yale acceptance letter, ready to give me some grand confession.
I was already thirty thousand feet up on a flight to Zurich, staring at that million-dollar deposit notification, face blank as I pulled out the SIM card, snapped it in half, and tossed it in the trash.
No note. No goodbye.
Just one notarized Service Completion Certificate sitting on that empty desk. Terms fulfilled. Transaction closed.

After being reborn, the first thing my sister and I did was swap our grooms.
In our past life, my gentle sister Elara married Felix Hawthorne, the mafia godfather of Marconi City. Surrounded by a domineering sister-in-law and a scheming, manipulative other woman, she was slowly driven into a corner and died of a broken heart.
Meanwhile, I married the polite, illegitimate son of the Graves family. He was a perfect gentleman, but he just didn't love me. Our marriage lasted three years, and we were separated for two and a half of them.
Then one day, Elara and I woke up at the exact same moment—we had been reborn, back to the very morning we were supposed to sign our marriage agreements...

I was the undefeated queen of the underground octagon—a body held together by broken bones and spilled blood, all to build Dorian's fighting empire from the ground up.
But when he'd made it to the top in his tailored suits and polished shoes, suddenly my scars made me too crude, too ugly to stand beside him.
He ordered me to throw my title defense—told me to take a dive for some rich girl whose daddy bought her a spot in the cage. And when that woman shattered both my legs with an illegal knee strike, he just stood there and watched.
I clawed my way out of that wreckage—barely breathing. Left him a blood-stained divorce decree and vanished.
While he mourned over what he thought were my ashes, I was already training alongside the legendary king of the octagon, rebuilding myself from the ground up.
Now I'm back—stronger than ever.
This time, I'm going to break that princess's pretty face and crush his pathetic ego underfoot.

irectly in front of me.
Only the night before, she’d been curled up in my arms, her warm fingertips brushing my collarbone, our bodies tangled in tender, loving intimacy.
Yet the toe tag fastened around her ankle was etched with cold, unflinching words: Su Wan, Female, 22. Cause of death: fatal fall from height. Time in morgue custody: 365 days.
She had been dead for an entire year.
Just what in the hell was the woman who’d gasped beneath me night after night, who’d lived beside me day in and day out for six whole months—the woman I’d called my girlfriend?

At twelve, I lost my parents and was taken in by the Brooks—our families had a marriage pact. For a decade, everyone expected me to marry their son Conner, a future I'd accepted as duty.
Then Conner's tabloid scandal with another woman destroyed the engagement. Chaos hit our family businesses—until Dylan, Conner's uncle who barely spoke to me, offered: Marry me instead.
It was the only way to save everything. I said yes, no time to fear marrying a stranger.
What stunned me? The wild side of Uncle Dylan I never saw. It hit fast, hot—pulling me in until I was hopelessly falling.
And my best friend? She's about to find a chaotic, twisty romance of her own. Turns out, life's best gifts are the ones you never see coming—even if they start with a marriage of convenience.

Warning: Smut! Smut!! Smut!!! Rated 18. Captured by an Alpha Daddy for Christmas contains possessive alpha behavior, forced proximity, age-gap romance, plus-size heroine, daddy-dom dynamics, jealousy, obsessive protectiveness, power imbalance, and holiday-season intimacy. Not suitable for readers under 18.
Dumped a week before Christmas, Annabelle "Belle" Evans forfeits her plan to spend Christmas with her narcissistic boyfriend in New York, and agrees to travel back home to Big Bear Lake with her perfect model sister and her nerdy brother-in-law. But a funny Christmas wish has other plans for her. When their car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, Belle wanders off for help and finds herself cornered by a wolf in the snowy woods. Just when she thinks she's about to be torn to pieces, a massive stranger appears—tall, broad, and sinfully hot, his eyes glowing amber in the moonlight.
He saves her life—and claims her as his.
"You'll be safer here," Jaxon murmurs, his gaze cold yet magnetic. "The full moon rules these woods. You'll be free once it's over."
"When will that be?" Belle asks, heart racing.
"After Christmas," he replies, leaving her unable to look away.
In his secluded cabin, every glance, every touch ignites a fire she hadn't expected. He's possessive. Obsessed. Dangerous. He's everything she wished for when she jokingly wrote to Santa for a "hot werewolf boyfriend." And the way he looks at her curves, the way his presence overwhelms her, makes her question what's real and what's forbidden. Now she's trapped in his arms, a prisoner to his touch, his heat, his growl, and the wild, wicked love burning between them might just make this her best Christmas ever.

Trigger Warnings: This is dark, not soft romance. Expect BDSM, breeding kink, power play, rough sex, omega submission, orgasm denial, impact play, primal rut/heat, age-gap obsession, violence, and depraved scenes. Read at your own risk.

I spent two years grooming myself into the perfect omega for the man who rejected me: the deadliest SSS+ Alpha alive.

Marcus Kane—my father’s best friend, old enough to be my uncle—wants no children, but only a woman dark enough to take his brutality.

So I became her.

If he craves a throat that swallows his cock or cum without complaint, thighs that spread for his waist to occupy, or a body begging through pain and filth… I’ll give it all.

But he still fucks other omegas. Never me.

Then danger stalks us when my father’s research puts a target on our backs and shadowy enemies are looming, leaving Marcus as our only shield. I had to move into his penthouse.

And now, I’m done waiting. I will have him.

The Alpha who swore he would never claim me is ready to burn the world before anyone takes what is his—ME!

Madam, your fetus is perfectly healthy, and all indicators are completely normal," Dr. Helena said with a smile as she looked at the image on the ultrasound machine.
"Really?" Emily slowly sat up on the hospital bed. She glanced down at her slightly swollen belly, gently placed her fingertips over it, and a look of worry crossed her face.
This was her second child. Her first pregnancy had also gone perfectly at every prenatal check-up, yet in the end…
"Everything is stable for now," Dr. Helena comforted her. "Rest assured, what happened last time was just an accident. Take good care of yourself this time, and come to the hospital right away if anything feels wrong."
The moment Emily thought of her first baby, a dull ache welled up in her heart.
It had been a baby boy.
Both of her children with her husband Watson were conceived through IVF.
When the first pregnancy succeeded, she had been overjoyed. She prepared the nursery, bought tiny baby clothes, and even started thinking of names.
But shortly after the baby was born, it passed away.

I am the fearsome godfather of the Mafia.
For the woman I love, I sheathed my fangs and willingly became a despised commoner son-in-law.
In the horrific car accident, I shielded her with my own flesh and blood, and steel bars pierced through my chest.
Faced with the only life-saving machine in the entire hospital, she did not hesitate to save her lightly injured "white moonlight" brother-in-law, leaving me to die in the basement.
She thought that as long as I bled to death, she could naturally embrace perfect love.
But she didn't know—
Without my protection, her proud, century-old family wouldn't even last a month ...

On the eve of my mating ceremony, my twin sister and I were abducted by rogues.
My Alpha fiancé and my parents drained our territory's wealth, but only bought back my sister Elara's life.
Upon her safe return, Elara seamlessly took my place, claiming my marking ceremony to become his Luna.
Meanwhile, left to rot in the rogue camp, a wolfsbane-laced blade violently carved out my wolf's essence.
Tossed into the wilderness like rotting meat, stripped of my ability to shift and bear pups, I became the Crescent Pack's ultimate disgrace.
Forsaken by my pack, Silas—Alpha of the Obsidian Pack and my childhood friend—defied the Council’s fury. Under the Moon Goddess, he publicly marked me, sheltering me like an absolute treasure.
But now, in the third year of our bond, I accidentally knocked over a half-sealed Memory crystal in his study.
It projected a hidden dark magic ritual into mid-air, tearing the lie of that kidnapping to shreds in an instant.
In the projection, Silas held my sister's hand, his eyes brimming with a sickening devotion.
"Don't be afraid, Elara. Aria's twin essence is a perfect match. With this, you'll safely carry pups with the strongest Alpha bloodline."
A heartbeat later, Silas approached my blindfolded, bound body.
With zero mercy or numbing agents, he carved out my essence with his own hands, drowning out my agonizing howls.

I lent my Bugatti to my secret boyfriend for clout. He repaid my trust by gifting my car to a scheming cheerleader, letting her publicly humiliate and frame me. The whole school mocked me as a poor garage keeper’s daughter, unaware I’m the hidden billionaire heiress behind the supercar. Now I’ll destroy his fake rich life and avenge every insult.

For three years, I deliberately suppressed my grades to rank under my boyfriend William, paving his way to our promised Cambridge exchange. I overheard him and my best friend Maddie confess they framed me for plagiarism in my past life, driving me to jump off the 38th floor, yet they still carried on an affair. They lied and ignored my pain afterward. Heartbroken, I secretly applied to Cambridge alone. The twist? My years of hiding my brilliance were never selfless sacrifice. I collected all their dirty secrets. I’m going to Cambridge not to flee, but to ruin every dream they cling to.

I heard that recording and couldn't believe it. My husband had been having an affair for a whole year, and my six-year-old Jerry had been covering for him this whole time.

Later, at Jerry's birthday party, I overheard his friends: "That's Jerry's nanny. His real mom works overseas."

My son told everyone I was just the nanny.

That day, standing in the hotel hallway, Jerry looked at me and said: "Can you promise to never come find me again? So Michelle can officially be my mom?"

My blood ran cold.

At the Ultimate Construct Tournament, my roommate beat me to the stage, unveiling the very runic matrix I had just designed in my mind.

When I confronted her about the blatant plagiarism, she burst into tears on the spot.

"You say I stole from you, but do you have even a single sketch to prove it?"

My boyfriend, Richard, sitting right there on the judges' panel, publicly condemned me.

He called me a sore loser and sneered that my vicious slander was absolutely disgusting.

Because the construct existed entirely within my mental sea, I had no physical proof.

I was crucified as a jealous bully, and ultimately, the violent magical backlash tore through me.

Right up until my last breath, I couldn't figure it out: how did she perfectly steal a top-secret construct I had only ever simulated in my mind, without leaving a single trace behind?

When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn—right back at the start of that very tournament.

Watching my roommate step forward, ready to rush the holographic projector, I clamped a hand around her wrist.

"This time, I'm going first."

To please his mistress, Callum ordered me—pregnant—to dance barefoot in the black salt ice cellar.

When I stumbled back to the doorway to warm myself, the mistress covered her mouth and retched.

"I'm pregnant. I can't stand this death-stench of winter."

Only because I was a princess of the Winter Realm, born carrying frost in my veins.

Callum flew into a rage and had me locked inside a frost-crystal cage, sunk to the bottom of the ice well. No one was allowed to release me without his command.

"A princess of winter, afraid of the cold? What a joke!"

No matter how I struggled or begged, he couldn't have cared less. He and his mistress treated it as entertainment. And just like that, I froze to death at the bottom of that well.

What he didn't know was that although we winter-born are forged in bitter cold, when we carry a child, every drop of magic goes to protecting the baby. We have no defense left for ourselves. The very ice that shaped us becomes the thing that kills us.

Two days later, he was finally satisfied and ordered them to pull me up.

But I could never come back up again.

The stepbrother I grew up with was a golden boy, a star varsity quarterback everyone had high hopes for.
But for a street-level delinquent, he abandoned his Ivy League future.
Desperate to pull his life back on track, I tried to expose his toxic girlfriend.
Yet, he hated me to the bone for it.
For her, he ruthlessly dragged our family into the crossfire of a deadly gang dispute, causing us all to meet a violent, tragic end.
I never expected fate to rewind the clock.
To give me a second chance.

My two best friends killed me over a girl who'd been dead six months.
Lila Bishop never got a single offer. So she cried and clung until Cole and Wes were ready to throw away their full rides and follow her to nowhere. I tried to stop them — they called me jealous and cut me off. So I went over their heads. I called their moms. I fixed their signing papers myself, the night before the deadline.
Six months later Lila was gone, and they blamed me. They dragged me to the roof of our gym and threw me off.
Then I opened my eyes — three months back, the day it all started.
Last time, I broke myself trying to save them.
This time, I'd let them jump.

Emily lives under constant threat, controlled by her cruel stepmother and stepsister. When her stepmother falls deeply into debt to one of the most feared mafia kings in the city of Texas, the mafia demands only one thing in return. She must hand over her daughter for a flash marriage tonight.

In exchange, Emily’s stepmother sells her to Mr. Ethan, a ruthless mafia boss. All the rumors about Mr. Ethan an old, fat, and merciless man only push Emily further into despair.

While staying in the mafia’s mansion, Emily meets a guard who accidentally enters her room. In her confusion and loneliness, Emily out of habit constantly talks about her terrible, cruel, and unbearable husband, as if Mr. Ethan were someone else entirely. The guard merely watches her coldly, without a smile, without a single comment.

When a shocking secret is revealed and the guard turns out to be Mr. Ethan himself, Emily is forced to face suffering and punishment far more severe than before.

To make matters worse, her stepmother and stepsister refuse to let Emily live in peace when a painful separation occurs between Ethan and Emily. Yet fate brings them together again when Emily, once more trapped by her mother’s schemes, is forced to become a strip dancer, living in a dark world she never imagined she would enter.

With Ethan’s help, Emily begins to take revenge on the stepmother and stepsister who destroyed her life amid games of power, vengeance, and under the ruthless command of Ethan himself.

Eighteen years ago, my mother traded her newborn for a gold-plated life, leaving me in a rust-stained trash can like a piece of discarded waste just to marry her rich boyfriend.

Now, she was back, weeping about "maternal regret" and "postpartum shadows”, saying she had regretted her decision every second of her life.

Overjoyed that my mother wanted me back, I packed my belongings and rushed to meet her.

However, the moment I stepped foot at her doorstep, I overheard her conversation with her darling daughter with her new husband.

“Of course, sweetheart! You will always be my one and only darling. I’m only adopting Vanessa back to wed her to Mr. Blackwood to save your Dad's bankrupt company.”

“You are not lying to me, Mom, are you?” Ramona, my step sister, tugged to my mother’s arms. “You won't share my love with sister Vanessa, will you?”

“Never.” My mother replied, her voice contained no warmth when mentioning me. “How can a village’s trash can compare to our princess?”

“If we wouldn't have to please that old hag of Blackwood company, we would never have brought your sister back.”

“An old master of Blackwood company and a village girl with no literacy, I think that's a match made in heaven.” Ramona smirked, followed by the sound of their laughter.

My legs at the doorstep froze, the momentary joy I felt shattered. The cold heart that had melted seeing my mother shed tears, became ice.

I watched the duo of mother and daughter, laughing and making fun of me, completely unaware that the company they were trying to please by offering me, was actually owned by me.

I was the CEO of Blackwood Groups.

She was an S-rank spy — cold, brilliant, unstoppable. Then her own people betrayed her, and she died.
She woke up as the family idiot everyone laughed at.
Scarred face. Malnourished. Dead last in school. Abused by her stepmother, framed by her sister, mocked by the entire campus.
The original owner of this body could take it. She couldn't.
Call her ugly? She formulates her own skincare remedy — and stuns the room.
Call her stupid? Top university presidents come knocking at her door. Legendary doctors beg for her secret formulas. Global superstars chase her down for a collaboration.
All she wanted was a quiet, ordinary life this time around.
Instead, her covers keep blowing, and without even trying, she's climbed back to the top of the world.
Meanwhile, the most mysterious young lord in the city opens her classified file from her past life. A slow smile crosses his face.
"This so-called idiot… is rather interesting."

I mined in a medieval pit, lived on moldy black bread, with whip scars across my back and iron chains around my ankles. The lord treated us like livestock.

I thought that was simply how the world worked—until I forced open a hidden passage and crawled into a white corridor that should not have existed: cold fluorescent lights, metal doors, surveillance cameras, as if the skin of the age had been ripped away in an instant.

That was when I understood: the Middle Ages were only a set, everyone around me was acting, and I was nothing more than a toy for the amusement of the rich.

They cloned the real-life rivals they could never defeat, threw them into different “scenarios,” and tortured them for pleasure.

They thought they could keep me in the dark forever.

What they don’t know is that I’m ready to get out—and tear this entire human-toy industry out by the roots.