2472 Book(s) Related to picked up a husband for farming

“Marry Damian.”
My father’s voice was cold.
“Or stop acting like a spoiled heiress.”

I laughed bitterly.
“You mean sell me to save your company?”

I was once the proud daughter of the Blackwood family—until my parents divorced, another woman moved into my house, and my father decided to trade my future for business.

Worse?

The man I was forced to marry was Damian Harrington—my childhood crush who broke my heart and now shamelessly flirts with my stepsister.

So instead of crying over him, I made a decision:

I would build my own company and take back control of my life.

Then one reckless night changed everything.

While escaping Damian, I ended up in the arms of a dangerously handsome stranger with cold blue eyes and a smile impossible to resist.

I thought he was just an expensive escort.

But later, I learned the truth.

The man I slept with wasn’t some stranger.

He was Gabriel Ashford—the billionaire every woman in Manhattan dreams about.

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.

"Speak not a word to her. Let none of you lay your hands or eyes on her. She is mine to deal with. This is my only warning. Defy it, and the consequences will make you beg for death, yet death will not come."
MIRA
When Ken hurt me, I shattered.
But I never gave in. I refused to feel. I refused to love.
Then my father, who hates me, and my mother, too afraid to protect me, send me away.
I expected peace. What I got was the White Lion.
The mafia king of the continent. A legend soaked in blood.
He claims me with no mercy. Protects me with no kindness.
Says I belong to him. Proves it with every threat and every body he leaves behind.
I swore I would never surrender.
But how do you fight a devil who looks like salvation
and kisses like sin?
SCAR
After my mother died from my father’s recklessness, I made myself a promise.
No love. No women in the mafia. No weakness.
Then I saw Mira.
Too proud to beg. Too pure to touch.
I made her a game. A test. A punishment.
But now she is the obsession I never expected.

Betrayed by her fated mate and left shattered, June is banished—wolf broken, heart in pieces. But when the ruthless Shadow Alpha Cassian drags her from the darkness, one scorching touch ignites everything.
His massive body pins her to the wall, thick cock grinding against her dripping heat as he growls, “Mine.” Every filthy lick, every possessive thrust chases away her pain, turning agony into raw, screaming pleasure.
Yet her treacherous past is coming—sister and ex hunting her down.
Will Cassian claim her completely, burying himself so deep she forgets every other man… or will the old bond tear her apart mid moans?

I used to be the Blackwells' best killer. For him, I walked away from that life and became his wife. I even gave him a daughter.

I thought it was redemption. Turns out, it was the start of something worse.

Three years ago, during that shootout at the docks, his first love showed up with his bastard son. When the rival family put guns to both kids' heads, he didn't hesitate. He chose to save her son.

My daughter burned in the explosion.

That was the day the man I loved for ten years died. What's left is just my sworn enemy.

"Fuck a whale like that? Dude, I'd need a goddamn forklift to dig through the rolls and find the hole. You could pay me a thousand bucks and I still wouldn't touch it. This isn't a date—this is a fear factor challenge."
Three months ago, those words boomed through the speakers at the frat party, filling every corner of the house.
That night, I was the joke. The fattest pig in their twisted little hunting game.
Three months later, I'm at the podium running for student body president. My waist dropped from 38 inches to 24, and this custom suit fits like a weapon.
Down below, the same people who laughed are staring up at me now. And that asshole who needed the forklift? He's face-down in the dirt like a kicked dog, waiting for me to end him.
My name is Leona. This isn't some crying fat girl's diary anymore. This is how I crushed every bastard who ever stepped on me—and clawed my way to the crown with blood and sweat.

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.

I was his most obedient blood slave. When he needed strength, I offered my blood; when he was irritable, I endured his temper. Even when he held his new lover and prepared for their wedding, I stayed silent at his feet. He thought I was born to bow, never realizing the poison hidden deep in my veins—the poison meant to end him. And when he bit into my skin for the final time, what he drank wasn’t power but his own doom. As his bloodline collapsed before my eyes, he finally fell to his knees, trembling, begging me for mercy. I only looked at him and smiled. He never understood—I was never his plaything. I was merely waiting for the right moment to take my revenge.

I was here because of missed periods and abnormal bleeding—a suspected threatened miscarriage.

When asked about our relationship, my boyfriend didn't even look at me.

"We're just classmates," he told the nurse.

He thought he was cutting ties with a worthless nobody so he could chase after a billionaire's daughter.

What he didn't know was... I was the heiress he was desperately looking for.

Due to an arranged marriage between our families, I married Damien Blackwood, heir to a business empire.

During five years of marriage, I tried hard to play the perfect wife, bore him a daughter Lily, thinking I had finally won his love.

Until his first love Serena returned from abroad, I watched him rekindle his passion for another woman, watched them rekindle their old flame.

A car accident changed everything.

I was taken to court, sentenced to three years in prison, becoming a "murderer" despised by everyone.

And he personally sent me to prison.

I waited five years for a heart transplant.
My mother—the Luna of our Pack, the healer everyone worships—gave it to someone else.
An orphan girl she took in. A girl who now calls her "Mom."
Ivy got my heart. She got a wolf. She got a mate and a wedding so grand the whole Pack attended.
Me? I watched from the corner, still dying, while my mother smiled for the cameras and accepted praise for her "selfless sacrifice."
When I finally snapped at the ceremony, she slapped me. Told me to apologize. Said I was embarrassing the family.
I'm her actual daughter. I'm the one who can't shift, can't feel a mate bond, can't survive another six months.
But sure. I'm the problem.
They wanted me to stay quiet and die gracefully.
I chose to make sure everyone sees who their perfect Luna really is.

My foster brother Caelan swore he'd only ever marry me. Even though I'm the only human in a pack of wolves, for eighteen years he and his brother Ronan made me feel like I belonged.
Then Mira showed up—and suddenly she was his "fated mate."
I watched him bond with her while I choked on poisoned incense and collapsed. No one caught me. They were too busy wiping her tears.
Within a week, she had my room. My job. Eighteen years of memories—trashed.
They said I could never leave them.
They forgot about the vampire prince who's been waiting at the border for three months.
He never forgot me.

My childhood sweetheart, Henry, gave me a glass of milk the night before my Harvard interview.
I thought he cared.
Until I woke up with my waist-length hair hacked off and my brain drowning in sedatives.
Later, I found him at a cafe, laughing with the prettiest girl, Madison, in our class.
"You actually cut her hair? You're insane, Henry!" she giggled.
"Truth or dare, babe," I heard him. "She's fat anyway. But you need that Harvard spot, Madison."
The boy who promised to marry me traded my dream to impress someone else.
I didn't scream. I didn't cry.
Let him have his joke. I'm taking my life back.

I was four months pregnant when the truck hit my car.
I woke up on a gurney outside the OR, bleeding, half-conscious, thinking my husband was saving my life. Then I heard him through the door.
"The baby's gone. Her right hand is finished—her career's over either way. Just take her kidney now and put it in Mia."
My mother agreed. My father told him to switch my architectural draft to Mia's name before Friday.
Mia. The sister they'd raised for twenty years while I was missing. The sister whose body was failing. The sister my husband had apparently been in love with the whole time I was married to him.
I was supposed to die on that table. I wasn't supposed to hear anything.
But my phone was in my coat pocket, and the voice memo app had never stopped recording.
And now I had a choice to make.

I'm a figure skating prodigy from one of the wealthiest families in the country. I'm also an idiot.

I believed that if I was kind enough, people would be kind in return. So I sponsored Haley Dunning, a scholarship skater on our team, and treated her like my own little sister.

The day before the NCAA qualifier, she came up to me with a sports drink, said she wanted to help keep my energy up.

I drank it. Went down on the ice with a broken leg. Drug test came back positive for banned stimulants.

Overnight, I went from the queen of the rink to the face of a scandal no one could stop talking about.

Expelled from school. Torn apart on social media. Calloway Corporation's stock in freefall.

Haley stood in front of the cameras, tears in her eyes: "Piper just wanted to win so badly. I never thought she'd go this far..."

I fell into a depression. Couldn't sleep without medication.

Then one day, she showed up at my hospital room with my boyfriend, bearing "comfort": a cup of water and a few pills: "Piper, take your meds, okay? This is all my fault for being so stupid..."

Three minutes later, I'm coughing up blood, convulsing on the floor.

Right before I died, I caught the look on her face. That sweet, innocent face. A slow, vicious smile spreading across it.

She knocked over the pill bottle and started screaming: "I grabbed the wrong ones! I mixed up her antidepressants with some old person's heart meds! I'm so stupid!"

My boyfriend pulled her into his arms. Didn't even glance at me dying on the floor: "She meant well. Piper just had bad luck."

I was poisoned to death in that hospital room.

Then I opened my eyes, and it was the day before the qualifier.

Seven years. Seven bonding ceremonies. Seven times a pack of feral strays charged through the territory on the full moon and tore into me before the marking could take.
I thought the Moon Goddess had cursed us.
Then I woke up in the pack hospital and heard my Alpha whispering to her — the delicate white wolf he called his "sister."
"Next time you let them in, could you tell them to go easier? I'm scared she might actually die."
Seven years of attacks. Every single one orchestrated by the man I loved, designed to break me down until I gave up the Luna title and made room for her.
So I played the recording in front of his grandmother, looked him in the eye, and ended the engagement myself.
He thought that was the worst I could do.
He had no idea what those seven years had already cost me — what was already shutting down inside my body while he stood there worrying about her.
By the time he found out, it was far too late.

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.

Everyone said Kane adored me.

That for me, he'd tame the wild rage of an Alpha, soften every growl, and sheath every claw.

Ten years. Ten damn years of chasing, spoiling, protecting. I was convinced I’d be his Luna—his mate, his forever.

But betrayal doesn’t come with a warning. It cuts sharp and deep. And it never just comes once.

The first lie, I forgave.

The second, I bled.

The third? It broke something in me I’m not sure I’ll ever get back.

And then came the words that snapped the last thread holding me together.

"Julia, can't you just stop being so difficult? Stop acting like the world revolves around you."

That was when I knew.

The man who once walked through fire for me…Had turned into the very beast I needed saving from.

The love I thought I had—it wasn’t love. It was a gilded cage, pretty from the outside, but still a prison.

And if I was ever going to be free, I'd have to be the one to smash it open. Even if it meant setting the wolf on fire with it.

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?

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.

"This pup belongs to me," he growled, his voice thick with power.
"Who do you think you are to claim him?" I shouted.
"I am your father and your king."
When Sophie's twin sister dies mysteriously during childbirth, she makes a promise—to protect the baby no matter the cost. But that vow thrusts her into a world she never believed existed, one ruled by savage wolves, dangerous secrets… and a cursed Alpha King who now claims her nephew is his heir.
"You… You're the father?"
"Yes. Therefore, the pup belongs to me."
"No! I promised my sister I'd protect him. I won't let you take him—not even if I have to fight to the death!"
Attacked. Bitten. Marked.
Now Sophie is changing into something she never wanted to be—a wolf. And the ruthless Alpha King who once hunted her now claims she is his destined mate, chosen by the Moon Goddess herself.
Torn between her human emotions and rising wolf instincts, Sophie must fight to survive the excruciating transformation, uncover the truth behind her sister's betrayal, and protect the child who may be the key to breaking a deadly curse.
But when passion ignites beneath their deadly rivalry, Sophie faces an impossible choice: reject the monster who marked her… or embrace the terrifying power awakening inside her.

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!

Ella has always known her place; at the very bottom. As an omega, she’s learned to stay invisible, to endure the taunts and cruelty, especially from the notorious Blackthorn twins, Lucian and Kade.

Golden, ruthless, and heirs to the Blackthorn pack, the alpha twins have made tormenting Ella their favorite pastime. To them, she’s nothing more than a reminder of weakness.

Until fate plays its cruelest trick.

When the unmistakable scent of the mate bond connects the three of them, their delicately ordered world shatters. The twins would rather reject fate than claim a weak omega, and Ella refuses to be bound to the monsters who made her life hell.

I sold myself for $50,000.

My uncle’s belt taught me that home is hell. So when I saw the ad—$50k for three months as a prison “mental coach”—I signed without reading the fine print.

Big mistake.

I’m not a coach. I’m the 51st volunteer. And I’m being locked inside a cell with him.

A mafia heir. A convicted killer. The most dangerous inmate in maximum security.

On our first night, he pins me against the wall. “Here, my word is law.”

He says I’m just a tool for his early release. He says he’ll protect me—if I obey.

I try to hate him. But when other inmates try to touch me, he breaks their bones. When I wake up screaming from nightmares, he pulls me into his bed and holds me until I stop shaking.

He calls me his.

Now the project is falling apart. Enemies are closing in. And I have to choose:

Run back to my uncle’s belt… or stay and let the monster own me.

Because the only way out of his cell… is through his heart.

The Moon Goddess has destined Elowen Starfire, a half-breed elven princess of unusual, even surreal beauty, for the impetuous Alpha: Aric Darkclaw. Even though he denies his feelings, Aric feels an undeniable connection with Elowen from the moment they first meet but denies that she is his luna because she is an elf. Reluctantly, he agrees to join her, sealing an alliance between their species and arranging the wedding.

Elowen, Aetheria's heir, and Aric, leader of her pack, bear the scars of the war that took their parents' lives. Now, with their forces combined, they prepare to face the enemies responsible for so much pain.

As the days go by, the two will awaken deeper feelings, which the Alpha himself will not be able to resist to the charms of the elf princess.

And Elowen will come to know true love, which will leave her terrified and fascinated at the same time.

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.

Everyone on campus has a theory about Lila Monroe. The whispers started freshman year and they never stopped. They call her cheap. Desperate. Available for the right price.

They are not entirely wrong.

What no one knows is why.

Lila Monroe does not arrive at Westfield Elite on a scholarship or a trust fund. She arrives on survival instinct and a secret she cannot afford to let anyone discover: she earns her tuition by selling her time to wealthy students who want company, a date to an event, or someone to pretend they matter to. It is not what anyone would choose. But it is keeping her enrolled. And staying is the only plan she has left.

Ryder Kane has never needed a plan. Everything at Westfield bends around him. The son of the man who controls the school board, he is untouchable by design. Until one night he overhears something he was never supposed to hear.

Now he has a proposal. She has a price. And neither of them has any idea what they are actually getting themselves into.

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 ...

When he was alive, Owen loved me so much he’d give his life for me. Yet, as for his death, I was as cold as a mere bystander.
At the funeral, his family slapped me, clawed at my throat, called me a man-eating black widow. Every last one of them turned on me, eyes red, demanding the same thing: Who killed Owen?
I didn't say a word.
My ten-year-old son went into cardiac arrest right there and was rushed to the ER — and still I said nothing.
Not until that voice cut through the crowd.
"I killed Owen."
I slowly raised my eyes.
After staying silent for so long… maybe it was finally time to tell the truth.

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.

"Time's up, sir. That's enough."
I've said it so many times I've gone numb to it. In this brothel, I'm nothing but a body with a price tag.
Then an old man froze in the doorway, his eyes reddening. "My God... Miss Isabella, what happened to you?"
Isabella. Somewhere in my shattered memory, that name still carries a weight I can't explain.
"I'm Antonio," he wept. "Alessandro sent me to find you."
A name both familiar and foreign. Salvation—or just the door to a darker room?

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 sister ran away the night before her wedding, so I had to take her place and marry Damian Kovac, the city's most feared don.
I figured he'd throw me in the harbor out of pure rage. Instead, the man wouldn't even touch me.
A month in, still sleeping in the guest room.
I wasn't my sister's level of charming, but I wasn't hard to look at either. And this man couldn't spare me a single glance?
The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I grabbed the divorce papers I'd already drawn up and stormed toward his study.
Right as I raised my hand to knock, I caught his childhood friend's voice through the door.
"You moved heaven and earth to get the woman you've been hung up on, and now you're icing her out? Didn't think I'd live to see the day."
My hand froze.
The woman he'd been hung up on?

When I was rushed to the ER with food poisoning, I heard the doctor shout, "We need to pump her stomach, now!"
But my mother, Catherine, calmly stopped the doctor's hand.
"No hurry," she said coldly. "Give her a sedative first."
My brother Austin panicked. "Mom! If you don't detox her, she could die!"
But my mother's voice was ruthless, low and sharp:
"If she dies, she dies. As long as her uterus is still warm, that's all that matters."
"Did you forget our plan? Sarah's transplant surgery is scheduled for tomorrow. If Elena wakes up now, what if she runs away?"
"Our priority is keeping her uterus safe for Sarah—not saving her life."
In that moment, the burn in my stomach was nothing compared to the chill in my heart.
I forced my eyes open and saw my brother—the one who'd always protected me—hesitate for a moment, then slowly let go of my hand.
"...Okay. You're right, Mom. Saving Sarah comes first."
The moment I closed my eyes, I made a decision: If I survived, this life would never belong to this family again.

"Knock on this door over the noise one more time, and you're dead!"
Calling the cops was useless, and I was too broke to move.
Driven practically insane, I recklessly tore open the black box from the dark web—the seller promised that if I just followed the instructions, it would "eliminate the noise at the source."
Less than half an hour later, the deafening rager upstairs completely stopped.
Three mornings later, a homicide detective pounded furiously on my door.
"The father and son upstairs are dead."

The day college applications were due, Fern Whitmore wouldn't stop crying — and my two childhood best friends were completely wrapped around her finger.

They actually threatened to give up their Ivy League spots to follow her to community college.

I tried everything to talk them out of it. Nothing worked. So I went behind their backs and called both their parents.

Their parents showed up that same night and put a stop to it. Applications corrected, crisis averted, everyone back on track.

Or so I thought.

Fern lost her two personal ATMs, and one night she posted a goodbye message on social media and swallowed a bottle of pills.

Nash and Declan didn't blame her for it. They blamed me.

They lured me up to the roof. Both of them shoved their hands against my chest.

"Maren." Declan's voice was ice. "You ruined Fern's future. Go apologize to her in hell."

I fell twelve stories.

When I opened my eyes, I was back at the beginning.

This time, I'm not saving anyone.

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.

I thought I was the happiest woman in the city.

My husband would gently help me into my shoes, rest his hand on my belly and whisper to our baby. My father would tie on an apron and cook dinner just for me.

Then a video from an unknown number shattered everything.

Inside a chapel, the four of them stood side by side.

My husband holding the hand of my father's mistress's daughter. My father arm in arm with the woman who once knelt before my mother begging for mercy.

And my wedding — the one the whole city had witnessed — had been nothing but a lie from the very beginning.

That evening.

He picked the bones from my fish, tucked a cushion behind my back, kissed my forehead — same as always.

I didn't confront him. I simply handed him a document to sign.

He thought I was still the naive little lamb he'd been deceiving all along. What he didn't realize was that he had just signed away his last card.

My name is Alessia Vitale, and I'm the unloved twin.

From the moment I was born, I was the "curse" while my sister Chiara was the "treasure." My parents' love, the family's pride—it all belonged to her. Until two years ago, when Rocco Benedetti, the most powerful man in Valentia, chose me. That was the only light in my life.

Then my sister came back from Europe.

She claimed I hired thugs to rape her, destroying her dream of motherhood. Rocco forced me to test deadly drugs in her place. I was sent to a mob boss's basement, taking her beatings, her burns, her broken ribs. My family shipped me off to an unmarked clinic, then left for a beach vacation.

No one knew I'd been poisoned—that I only had a month to live.

And no one knew that by the time they discovered the truth...

It would all be too late.

My husband's mistress sent me a video to rub it in, claiming she had just beaten my "pathetic, begging mother" bloody and kicked her down the stairs.
I froze, glancing up at my actual mother sitting right across from me, quietly sipping her coffee.
Bewildered, I zoomed in on the video.
When I made out the scar on the wrist of the woman lying in the pool of blood, a cold sweat broke out over my body. I frantically called my husband.
But he interrupted my plea with extreme impatience: "Shut up! Roxy was right to teach her a lesson. She was just taking out the trash for me!"
Since he insisted on indulging his precious mistress's death wish...
I wonder if he'll still be able to say she was right to teach her a lesson when he sees his own grandmother's corpse.

"Happy anniversary, darling. Look what I brought you." My husband's snow-white python once felt like proof of his love—until I remembered dying with it wrapped around my throat. In my past life, I doted on that "gift" for an entire year, never once suspecting its true nature, while my husband and daughter quietly counted down the days until I stopped breathing. Reborn on the very night he presents that same box again, I swear this time will be different.