1312 Book(s) Related to where can i watch dog soldiers

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

I retired for three years, restraining my edge, thinking compromise could bring peace.

But what I got in return was my sister's abduction, my family's estate seized, and my benefactor hanged from the city gates!

Even the Council turned a blind eye, mocking me as bottom-tier trash without even a shred of magic.

Since mortal reasoning won't work, then I'll shatter the rules of this world myself!

The elite circles all whisper that David Ashcroft is the ideal fiancé—cold, untouchable, repulsed by even a woman's fingertips.

Yet when my most intimate photos, leaked by his own hands, flood the internet, I'm left curled on the bathroom floor retching in agony—while my so-called "gynophobic" fiancé toasts with his white moonlight, Celia Davis, at their private club.

My phone lights up with his icy message: ["Remember—never dare to touch me again."]

Then Celia's text stabs through: ["Thanks for the 'portfolio,' dear fiancée. My boyfriend's skills are far more impressive than you imagined~"]

The attached screenshot freezes my blood—David's chat logs, where my photos are auctioned with the caption: ["Just a plaything. Highest bidder wins."]

So this is the truth behind his "disgust for women"—a carefully crafted mask for this long-planned humiliation.

Amethyst is a woman who loves her family so much.
She has a boyfriend named Earl.
Amethyst's life was simple, and it's ok with her.
Until one night, She and her boyfriend went on a date.
It should be a romantic and simple date but it turns out into a nightmare!
They witnessed a killing which leads Earl to die.
And the master mind? Named Aivan Warren who's reckless that suddenly feel something strange when he saw Amethyst.
He let Amethyst live and free but in one condition. She will do whatever Aivan wants for two months! Yes, it was totally crazy for her. But, what can she do? He is powerful and reckless.
What will happen with those two months?
Will Amethyst live after two months?
If Aivan wants her to love him, how can she love the person who just killed her boyfriend for no reason?

Princess Penelope would rather die than marry the feared Crimson Dragon King.

On the night before the wedding, she throws herself to her death.

At that exact moment, in another world, Joseline Hernandez falls from the rooftop of her school building after someone pushes her. Betrayed and exhausted from a life spent being blamed for her father's death, she dies with only one thought : revenge.

But death was not the end.

Joseline wakes up inside the body of Princess Penelope, the very princess who was supposed to become the bride of the terrifying Crimson Dragon King, Drakarys.

Desperate to return home and uncover who murdered her, Joseline searches for a way back to her world. Yet the deeper she enters the dragon kingdom, the more she realizes something is wrong. The dragons are hiding secrets. The royal court is dangerous and the Crimson King himself is nothing like the monster humans claim him to be.

When no path home appears, Joseline makes a choice :

If she must live as Penelope, then she will survive as the Crimson Dragon King's bride even if it means falling in love with the King she meant to fear.

Before they threw me into that dungeon, I never imagined my stepsister and fiancé were capable of betrayal.

Reality slapped me hard across the face.

Daniel and Lyanna fucked right in front of me just to rub it in. My grandfather died of a heart attack after I went missing. My uncle was framed and locked away. My fortune was stolen, and my body was doused in boiling fish glue. Every single one of these disasters came down to one thing: I trusted the wrong people.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back three years in the past—Christmas Eve. Standing before me was Milos, devastatingly handsome, radiating the kind of raw masculine energy that made it impossible to look away. I made my decision on the spot: I was going to hold on to this man for dear life and make it up to him for every wrong I'd done.

What followed was a revenge tour against Daniel and Lyanna—and along the way, I happened to crush a few worthless scumbags and pull a few powerful figures out of the fire.

The Godfather of the Italian Mafia: "Audrey is my chosen successor."

The Patriarch of a top-tier noble house: "Audrey is the future head of this family."

A reigning King, overruling every objection: "Audrey is the child of my one true love—and she is my heir."

Milos pinned me against the wall, one hand tight around my waist, his jaw clenched as he growled: "Wife. Tell me the truth. How many secret identities do you actually have?"

I panicked and kissed him to shut him up. "Not that many," I managed. "Just... a hundred or so."

Olympia was sold during the Annual Omega Bidding to the powerful and arrogant Alpha King, Alpha Fabian, who owns a five-star night club. Every year, he recruits Omegas to serve as strippers in the club. Others, to serve his top clients in the bedroom.
Most sold off by their relatives.
Once recruited here, chances of escaping and getting a fated mate are slim as the Omegas are considered used.
He’s the most powerful Alpha King in the world, no one can question him.
Leaving her family behind and worse, being sold off by her stepdad haunted her.
Upon arrival at the palace, she got into an issue with one of the task masters overseeing the royal maids.
At the verge of punishment, she’s rescued by a cool, charming gentleman when everyone else watches. Olympia fell for him at first sight, only to discover they are quadruplets.
Alpha Fabian, upon discovering her first day rebellion, as punishment, handed her over to his ruthless quadruplet sons as their personal callgirl.
Alpha Elliott, Asher and Ryder soon realize she’s their mate and are more than eager to tame her, not only physically but in bed but she hates them. They are Enigma Alphas, too dangerous for an Omega like her.
But she loves only one.
Alpha Cassius. The Alpha who saved her.
But what will be her fate as Alpha Cassius is an Enigma. He's an exorcist, regarded as consecrated mate of the moon goddess yet he's the only one among the Alpha princes she wants most, her wolf desires, her body arches for.
What will become of this intense forbidden passion between an Omega slave and the charming exorcist who is trying hard to fight demons and his feral desires at the same time?

When the zombie apocalypse hit, my girlfriend called me weak and hypocritical. She said only the strong deserved to survive, then handed the map of the base I had spent two years building to a warlord and watched me bleed out in the dirt.

Then I opened my eyes and woke up four months earlier.

The warlord had not arrived yet.
I did not expose her. I did not beg her to stay. I quietly reinforced the walls, emptied the warehouse, and dug traps beyond the fence.

She passed the intel like before. She opened the gate like before. She thought she would win again, and she thought I would be softhearted again.

She only realized the truth after leading them into the warehouse and finding an empty cage.

She dropped to her knees in the mud, begging the warlord to take her with him. But the strong man she chose kicked her off the truck and left her for the dead.

At last, she tasted the rule she worshipped.

They told me my daughter drowned. Too much to drink, a slick deck, a terrible accident.

Then they put a number on her, slid the check across the table, and asked me to sign away the right to ever ask how she died.

I signed.

They didn't ask what I'd do after.

I changed my name. I spent three years earning a desk in their building, close enough to hear the man who buried her joke about the father who "made some noise, took the money, and went away."

He doesn't know my face. None of them do.

They thought the money bought my silence.

They have no idea what it bought.

Melia Bournemouth thought she had lost everything when her father died and a tragic accident left her in a wheelchair.

Her only comfort was her devoted husband, Mathew. But when Melia discovers Mathew is secretly liquidating her last remaining assets to build a life with his pregnant mistress, her grief turns into cold, hard rage.

Desperate for retribution, Melia turns to the only man Mathew fears: Illya Cosgrave, a ruthless and dangerous billionaire with a dark reputation. But as they plot to dismantle Mathew’s empire from the shadows, Melia realizes Illya isn't just a weapon for revenge. He harbors a secret connection to her past that changes everything.

Now, Melia must decide: will she remain the victim, or will she rise from her chair and burn her ex-husband’s world to the ground?

An epic cold snap struck, causing temperatures to plummet to minus eighty degrees Celsius.
My fiancée and best friend occupied my hillside villa, laughing hysterically as they watched a video of me nearly freezing to death.
In their eyes, once I turned into a solid block of ice, they could rightfully inherit my vast fortune and live in this warm, doomsday Noah's Ark.
But what they didn't know was that the video was n't real at all .
I stood in the temperature-controlled bunker twenty meters below them and cut off their main power.
The hunt was about to begin.

I was cursed, trapped in a "Trial of Sincerity"—I could only regain my freedom if she spoke the words "I love you" from the bottom of her heart.
For five years, I’ve taken bullets for her, gone to prison for her, and stood on the brink of death four times. She would only call me "my best friend" or say "I need you," but she never uttered those three words.
Four times, she abandoned me as I lay dying, rushing instead to the side of another man.
The fifth time, with a bullet in my abdomen and my insides exposed, I lay on the operating table. She finally wept, screaming "I love you"—once, twice... twelve times in total.
Too bad. After waking up from that fourth brush with death, I had already signed a Do-Not-Resuscitate (DNR) order.
This time, my heart has stopped beating. Not because of my wounds, but because I’ve made my choice: I won't let her save me.

To surprise her I ended my business trip early only to catch my fiancee entangled with my best friend of ten years in our marital bed

The next day at an elite gala she publicly announced the engagement was over then drove me out into the freezing downpour like a drowned dog mocking me in front of everyone as a worthless castoff

She did not know that the Wall Street financial predator who had hidden his edge for love had finally had his shackles cut off by their own hands

Back in New York I struck back by shorting the Roland family empire watching coldly as that sanctimonious friend devoured her family fortune piece by piece then tossed her into a dungeon on a remote island overseas to torment her at will

Months later when she crawled out of a dark cell on the verge of a breakdown clutching my dress shoe in the stinking mud and sobbing as she begged humbly that she would do anything if only she could stay by my side

I merely wiped the mud she had smeared on my trousers and let a filthy wet wipe drift onto her face

Some trash once you throw it out you never pick it up again

"Aveline, a world without you means nothing to me."
The dragon's scalding blood splattered across my tombstone, melting the thick blanket of snow.
Five minutes ago, he had severed the crimson fox's head—vengeance for me.
I died at the hands of my most cherished companion, died in a carefully orchestrated betrayal. I'd wielded the full power of the Court to elevate that pitiful low-born wretch to godhood, only for him to join forces with my dear sister and plunge a blade into my heart from behind.
And the dragon war god I had scorned—the one I'd humiliated and treated as nothing more than a beast slave—defied imperial decree, razed an entire city, and severed his own life force. All for me.
I watched his dragonfire extinguish completely in the bitter cold. My soul reached out to embrace him, but passed through nothing but endless snow.
Until a blinding light pierced through my vision.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself staring up at the familiar domed ceiling of the Celestial Hall.
I had returned to three years ago, to the Binding Ceremony that sealed my fate.
Reborn into a second chance, those vermin who climbed to power on dragon bones will finally get the hell they deserve.

I loved Finley for two years.
Until 1:00 AM on a Tuesday, when his best friend, Orion, sent me a half-naked photo and a jarring voice note."
If I actually bag her, don't go flipping out on me. A deal's a deal."
I booked the first flight out to confront him, only to catch the boy I loved naked and thrusting into another woman.
But that wasn't even the part that broke me.
When my roommate bypassed the hockey team's private Discord server, I found a channel named: #locker-room-bets.
There was my boyfriend, typing the words that shattered my world: "She's boring... She's like a lost puppy, you can't shake her... Play with her all you want."
My loyalty and two years of my life were nothing but a sick joke.
The entire hockey team had put money down on when I would willingly spread my legs for his best friend.

Every July, my husband left for a business trip to France—so for seven full years of marriage, we never once got to celebrate our wedding anniversary.
This time, I flew all the way to France to surprise him, and mid-flight, I stumbled across a social media post.
My dream girl finally agreed to be with me. How do I make the frumpy, worn-out wife back home file for divorce on her own?
The OP poured out his grievances in the comment section:
When my dream girl suddenly moved abroad, I married her former best friend to keep me company through the hard times, just so I wouldn’t lose touch with her completely.
Now she’s finally said yes to being with me, and I’ve made enough to give her the lavish, privileged life she deserves.
I want my wife to find out about my affair herself so I can get a clean divorce without a fight, but she’s so painfully oblivious. I’ve come home reeking of my dream girl’s perfume on purpose, and every single July I fly here to France for our private time together, watching the lavender bloom in Provence with her. She never noticed a thing.
Perfume. July. France.
Those matching details made my fingers go numb. A deafening buzz exploded in my skull. A bone-deep chill washed over me, and I prayed with everything I had that it was all just a terrible coincidence.
Until I read the final line.
Just got a spending alert from her supplementary credit card—she bought a flight to France. I’m heading to pick up my dream girl now, might as well keep an eye out for her, just in case.
The plane touched down. When I stepped into the arrivals hall, I lifted my head almost instinctively.
There stood Shen Sinian, the man I hadn’t seen in two weeks, in a crisp, tailored suit, a bouquet of roses in his hand, locked in a passionate kiss with a woman with a stunning, willowy figure, her back to me.
He opened his eyes by chance, and through the crowd of travelers, his gaze locked directly with mine.

My son was killed in a horrific car bomb assassination.

At his rain-drenched funeral, my husband, Enzo—a Mafia Don—held an umbrella over my head, only to suddenly state with icy indifference:

"Gianna is pregnant. It's my blood."

Gianna. The illegitimate daughter of the Lucchese family boss.

I stiffened, looking up in sheer disbelief.

"What the hell does that mean?"

He cast a careless glance at me, completely unbothered.

"To end the war between the Corsican and Lucchese families, I've been with her in secret for a while now. Now that she carries the Corsican bloodline, I must give her a proper title. She will be moving into the estate tonight. You will not only accept this, but you will also give her the respect she deserves as the mother of my child."

Three years of companionship, I secretly suppressed her violent S-class psionic power with my mortal body.
Yet on the day of her awakening, she cast me out like garbage.
The night I left, her genetic collapse began.
When the Zerg invaded and she knelt begging for mercy, I walked onto the battlefield alone—where my Nullification Field passed, the Zerg Overmind was reduced to a punching bag.
Star nobles dared to touch my sister?
I single-handedly breached their orbital fortress.
Now I've established the iron law of the universe, and all races bow before me.
And that woman who once drove me away is now kneeling in acid rain, her forehead bleeding from kowtowing.
Too bad—my hot pot is ready, and I have no time to open the door.

Five years after breaking the mate bond, Vincent became one of the youngest Alphas of the North, worth hundreds of billions, with a fiancée who was a perfect match for him — the daughter of Silver Claw Pack’s Alpha.
But I had already disappeared from his world, my name now only whispered in rumors about me being a bar hostess at Midnight Howl Bar, catering to Alphas and nobility.
When someone mentioned my name to him, he simply held his fiancée’s hand with a cold look in his eyes.
"I don't know her."
At his bonding ceremony, everyone congratulated the "perfect match."
But I, floating in the air, watched as Vincent stood beside his dazzling Luna.
What he didn't know...
He was the only Alpha I ever loved.
What he didn’t know...
I had been dead for a year.
Before I died, I was desperately earning money just to get our daughter the treatment she needed.
Then one day...
He found me at the Midnight Howl Bar where I worked in life, catching a faint but familiar scent of me. That moment...
His wolf spirit completely lost control.

At the dinner party, Alexander had his arm around my waist, chatting and laughing with clients in German.
I was about to tell him the happy news that I was pregnant.
He was tender and affectionate in front of me, kissing my cheek from time to time.
But they didn't know my German was fluent enough to understand every dirty detail.
Like right now, I heard him bragging to the client about how wild things got last night with his stepsister Lillian.

The dealership called to inform me that my Rolls-Royce Starlight Headliner had been replaced with a pink one and was ready for pickup.
I was bewildered. I hadn't driven that car in ages—why would anyone change the headliner without my knowledge?
I confronted my husband, who managed our garage, demanding an explanation.
"Honey, maybe they got their wires crossed. I'll swing by the dealership later and sort it out."
I wasn't about to waste my breath. Instead, I called my friend directly—she happened to own the dealership.
"William's having an affair. I'm going to catch him red-handed."

You've been selected for consideration. Be at the following address by 7:00 p.m. sharp. Be silent. Be seen. Not a word to anyone.

"You've lived in eight different cities in ten years. No record of parents. Multiple jobs. No formal education past high school."
Ivy stiffened.
He turned, and Ivy's breath caught.
Lorenzo Martinelli.
Ivy had never met him before, but she'd seen his face on gossip sites as few times. The billionaire no one ever saw in person. The untouchable, dangerous man with alleged Mafia ties.
"Why did you come?" he asked.
Ivy met his gaze without blinking. "Curiosity. And five hundred bucks."
He smiled, "Honest. That's rare," he said. "I like that."
Lorenzo stood, "I don't want someone who wants me, I want someone who can survive me."
Ivy literally felt the heat of the fire on her face.
"You don't know me," she said quietly.
"No," he agreed. "But I will."

Ivy Wesley believed that marrying a wealthy stranger would be her golden escape from a life of struggle. Lorenzo Martinelli was supposed to be her way out: her fresh start, her answer to every prayer whispered in the dark.
But the moment the mansion doors shut behind her, Ivy understood the truth. She hadn't stepped into a fairy tale. She had walked straight into the lion's den.

He was supposed to be my stepfather. I was supposed to call him Daddy, instead of baby, my darling, or even my husband. But when my mother was murdered, he suddenly dragged me to the altar to take my mother's place to marry him. As if my mother's murder wasn't shocking enough, I was forced to say I do under his piercing gaze, and even a gun to my ribs. I was scared, and I couldn't refuse. I had to marry a stranger who was supposed to be my stepfather. And worse, I didn't know that my future stepfather, or now my future husband, was a Don. "You'll be safe as long as you use my last name. I'll make sure they won't touch a single hair on your head." "Really? What happened to my mother showed otherwise." "Too bad, Katherine no longer has my last name. And you, you're Fiona Craig now." Life was so strange. In an instant I lost my mother. In an instant I became the wife of the Don, Joshua Craig. And who knows what would happen next. It felt so wrong to us. It felt so wrong to me.

The stranger moved closer, closing the space between him and Anna.

His hand came up, gripping her jaw and tilting her face so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

Anna swallowed hard, her pulse racing.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I want you to fuck me so hard I forget about my dickhead of a fiancé.”


Anna Hawkins was never supposed to fall into the arms of a stranger. But after walking in on her fiancé having sex with her best friend, pain drove her into the dark corners of a nightclub and straight into the arms of a man with cold eyes, inked skin, and a body that could ruin her.

Their night was supposed to mean nothing.

But unforeseen circumstances throw Anna into a brutal world of betrayal, power, crime, and possession.

She wasn’t just heartbroken anymore.

She was owned.

And the most dangerous part?

She didn’t know how to escape from her cruel fate.

Micah plowed into her soaking wet pussy as he lost his grip on time and his surroundings.

Snow smirked as she watched him wide eyed from beneath him as her magic started to Buble up from deep within her.

"You really think you can handle me, my dear slave?" She husked while Micah was starting to feel slightly light headed.

"Yes!" He gritted out while he felt his climax approaching faster then lightning.

"ALL of me?" Snow whispered in his ear sensually.

"Yes, yes I..." Micah groaned as he suddenly felt a weird sensation creeping into his body starting from where they were joined together. Snow smirked and let her magic take over and poured it into Micah's receiving body making him lose his mind completely!


Don Micah Santorini, hot headed mafia leader with a wicked Snow Queen of the mystical waste lands. Two opposites coming from different worlds find each other, challenge each other, pushing each other's buttons, neither of them wanting to back down!

What will happen when a cold hearted queen lands in the "backyard" of a hot headed mafia king? Will their struggle for power kill the first petals of love before it has a chance to bloom or will it strengthen their unusual bond and help them to create and claim a new kingdom amidst all the other drama and mysteries?

I'll do anything!" she pleads, grabbing my hands. "I'll do anything. Just let him go. He made a mistake." "That's not an excuse. It was a costly mistake." "Please. I'll do anything you want. Anything at all." I let the silence hang in the air between us as I think carefully, my eyes drawn to how firm and full her tits are. "Anything, princess?" She lets go of my hands and straightens, raising her chin. I watch as she swallows nervously. "Y-Yes. Anything at all."

I raise my fingers to her face, smearing my thumbs with her tears. I trail them down her strong jaw, to her throat, over the small hollow between her collarbones, the skin of her chest, stopping between her tits. I circle the spot quietly while she holds her breath, perhaps in anticipation.
"Would you let me fuck you, Titania?" - Feisty, yet innocent Titania Williams is best known for being at the wrong place at the wrong time, and this time she's getting more than she bargained for.
When her dear Uncle Patrick betrays one of the most powerful Mafia Lords in New York, Kristoff Stavkros, Titania is caught unexpectedly in the underworld web of crimes and deceit. To save her uncle's life, she makes Kristoff an offer.

She'll be his for a month. Thirty days, he owns her body. Stupid, right? But Titania plays by the rules. But how can she come out victorious when Kristoff keeps changing the rules and is hell-bent on making her his forever?

One moment Isabella's life was perfect—a thriving business, a father finally free from his depression, and the next, she was forced to marry a man she knew nothing about, a man her father looked at alarmingly with so much fear.
But she knew she had to do it. Her father's life was on the line, and their marriage was the only thing that would keep him alive.

Giovanni Christian Genovese, also known as the Masked king of the underworld, had long planned his vengeance after watching his family get massacred by a bunch of lousy small-town men who were supposed to be ‘hitmen’ and he swore to wipe every traces of them off the face of earth, so the moment he learned of Isabella, he knew his plan has been perfected and after all these years, he was ecstatic to finally set it in motion.

Except she wasn't. Not after he went against the deal and killed her father.
Caught in the tangled web of love and hatred, will Isabella choose to sink into agony or rise up to resist with a clear mind?

At the Falcone estate's riding ring, I watched my eight-year-old son Leo mount Starlight, preparing for the most important performance of his young life.
Before the third obstacle, the horse spooked. The instant Leo was thrown, I rushed forward to shield him—the cost was three shattered ribs and a kicked left lung.
When I woke from unconsciousness, I found myself in Dante's private clinic downstairs. From the adjacent room came the doctor's angry voice: "We agreed this was just a marrow extraction. Why did you set up what happened with the horse?"
My husband Dante Falcone's response made my blood run cold: "Leo was Mia's donor. Now that the procedure is complete, there's no point in continuing treatment. Mia is the real heir."
Eight years of marriage. I'd always believed that beneath Dante's cold exterior, Leo was still a son he treasured.
Only now did I understand—from the moment of his birth, Leo had been nothing more than a living donor prepared for his stepsister Mia.
The cruelest irony? Mia, the girl Dante loved so deeply, wasn't even his biological daughter.

I married Massimo Salvatore, the mafia don, thirty-two times. And divorced him thirty-two times.

Every single time for the same reason—his precious Claudia came back from her overseas treatment facility.

"She took a bullet to the head for me. Any stress could kill her." That was his only explanation.

The first divorce, I trashed the entire living room. He slapped me across the face: "Cut the DRAMA. We'll get back together once she's stable."

The third time, I followed them to the club and caught them kissing. I confronted him—got locked in the basement for seven days.

Sign the papers, take off the ring, pack my bags. Like a nightmare on repeat.

Until the thirty-third time.

A rival family grabbed both me and Claudia. With a gun to his head, he could only save one of us. I looked at him, voice breaking: "Massimo, just this once, pick me."

He walked toward her.

Four hours later, his men found me in some abandoned warehouse. Three broken ribs, blood everywhere. Our baby—gone.

Massimo camped out by Claudia's hospital bed, wouldn't leave her side. Didn't visit me once. Not even when I got discharged.

That's when I was done.

Amanda Rousso married Kenneth Chavez for the thought that all her problems when it comes to finances will solve everything, but she is wrong because the moment she said yes to the fixed marriage, her soul was already buried six feet under the ground.

She never thought she would become a pawn in Kenneth’s twisted game, and trapped her in the marriage filled with broken vows and lies. Throughout 5 years of being together, she was able to learn how to love him and obey him, but Kenneth was so abusive and couldn't accept her because, for him, Amanda is the reason why his first love left him. In order to avenge her, she must endure all the cold treatment.

In the darkest moments of her life, Amanda decided to escape, and she stumbled into the arms of Damon Vera, the king of Mafia society who was feared by everyone. Damon pledged to protect her, but with one condition. She will marry Damon.

Now, Amanda must decide. Will she marry Damon to spare her life and run away from her past that keeps hunting her or get entangled in his life and power as if she stepped into another level of prison?

In my past life, my wife was in a car accident and became a vegetable.

I bankrupted myself trying to save her, going from billionaire to homeless vagrant.

When I finally died mysteriously in prison, I understood the truth:

My wife had been faking her coma all along. She wanted to steal my fortune with her lover—my own brother.

But now I've been reborn.

"Since she's already dead, let's harvest all her organs for donation," I told the doctor.

Twenty years ago, he took the blame for my murder, was branded with the Silver Flame mark, and banished to the wilderness. Twenty years later, I escaped from a prison-like marriage and searched the world for him. He wasn't there in the Alaskan blizzards. He wasn't there in the deep mountains of Romania. Under the polar night in the Arctic Circle, I called his name into the darkness. No one answered. Until a hunter told me: deep in the Yukon, someone had seen a lone wolf with the Silver Flame mark.

My wife was sleeping with her assistant.

I didn’t confront her. I was in the middle of a critical funding round and about to take over as CEO, and I couldn’t afford to act on emotion.

Then my PI told me the truth: the affair was only the beginning.

On her birthday night, she planned to drug me, send my secretary into my room, and frame me for cheating—maybe even saddle me with a fake child scandal.

If it worked, my CEO promotion would be dead, the funding would collapse, and my reputation would be finished.

She thought the setup was flawless.

Too bad she forgot one thing:

I’m not good at explaining myself. I’m good at letting people walk straight into the trap I built for them.

So that night, the man carried into the room wasn’t me.

It was her lover.

I bled for her company.
Literally.
Seventy-two hours straight at the keyboard until my nose dripped blood onto the keys.
She couldn't answer thirty calls while I lay dying—she was too busy riding her boy toy in Cabo.
So I did what any good programmer does with corrupted files.
I hit delete.
On everything.
Her access. Her code. Her future.
What I built, I could destroy.

He Thought I'd Wait Forever. I Wore White for Someone Else.

Nora canceled the wedding venue on a Tuesday. The deposit was nonrefundable. She let it go.
Eight years she'd held that stretch of coast — the cliff, the white tent, the January date they circled and let slide every spring. She slid the ring off at the kitchen counter and dropped it in the drawer with the dead batteries and old takeout menus. It didn't feel like heartbreak. It felt like setting down something she'd carried too long.
Adrian would find out. Not tonight. He still thought her silence was a thing to be coaxed out of. He still thought she'd always be there.
She'd already decided she wouldn't. By the time he understood, she'd be on that coast in a white dress — and the man beside her wouldn't be him.

"Get out of here with your dying bastard!"
My son suddenly fell critically ill, and the only matching organ was locked in my wife's family's cold storage. I stormed into the company with my critically ill child, only to be met with a severe suspension notice.
Everyone thought I was some lowly social outcast, someone they could crush at any moment.
Until I pulled out that dusty badge, my father-in-law, who controlled a New York business empire, was so terrified that he cleared the room on the spot, his legs going weak.
"Arrange surgery for my son immediately." I looked at him coldly. "If he misses the optimal transplant window, I guarantee your entire family, and this city, will be executed for him."

In my past life, I gave away all my resources to protect them, only to have my girlfriend and best friend lock the security door themselves, leaving me to be devoured alive by zombies in despair.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back three days before the apocalypse.
I maxed out my credit cards, frantically stockpiled hundreds of tons of supplies, and built an indestructible steel fortress! When the bloody apocalypse arrived as scheduled, those traitors were frantically torn apart by monsters outside the door, crying and banging on the door for help.
I sat in front of the monitor, took a sip of hot coffee, and calmly pulled down the last steel gate.
"In this life, you don't even deserve to be dogs."

After the Cosmic Pulse Event, human civilization was wiped off the map.

Some people turned into zombies. Others awakened abilities.

In my previous life, I hadn't awakened anything yet when I made the mistake of letting my uncle's family in — I was too soft-hearted. They thanked me by killing me and my parents.

Given a second chance, I kept that door locked. No matter how much my uncle's family wailed and threatened, I didn't budge.

But when the apocalypse finally broke, I awakened a Farm Ability — while my uncle outside awakened a Killing Blade.

Reborn one year before the zombie outbreak, I awakened a supernatural storage space. I stocked massive daily supplies and transformed a secret mountain cave into an impenetrable fortress. I protect my grandma, take revenge on greedy relatives, fight mutated beasts and intelligent zombie monsters, and wait for the rebirth of human civilization in the end times.

In my last life, the city became a locked-down apocalypse zone.
My “family-first” elite father shoved my older brother into a raider’s shotgun just to survive.
My pampered socialite mother thought I was dead weight—and personally threw me into a tide of infected.
When I opened my eyes again, it was the third day after the world collapsed.
Watching my mother still dilute her luxury face cream with the last half case of water—while my father lectured me about principles—
I drew my tactical knife and pinned it clean through the solid oak table.
“From now on, supplies are split. Rot here and prove it to me.”

"I need an accident—one that looks fatal," I said calmly into the encrypted phone. "It's the only way to escape him."
Rumors swirl that this man—the underworld boss who controls half of Europe’s shadow economy—loves me beyond reason.
They say he defied his entire family for me. That this ruthless killer laid down his weapons just to cook me a meal.
For years, he made the world believe I was his one weakness—and even I almost believed it.
But instinct in a life-or-death moment doesn’t lie.
When bullets shattered the car window, he yanked the steering wheel on reflex—shielding my adopted sister in the passenger seat while leaving me, his wife, fully exposed to the hail of gunfire.
As I lay bleeding, desperately trying to protect our unborn child… he was busy cradling her in his arms.
While I endured everything for our future, he signed over the estate—the one he promised would be our retire place—to that lying sister.
That’s when I knew: some loves are just performances for the living.
So I gave him exactly what he wanted.
I left behind a positive pregnancy test—six weeks along—and drove straight into the deep ocean, staging the most brutal finale right before his eyes.

The System told me to do good deeds during the apocalypse.

It also told me to change the world through love.

I've always been the cooperative type. So I raised my blade, brought it down, and carved through the scum of this world—one slash at a time.

The System lost its mind, shrieking inside my head at a deafening pitch:

"AHHH! Host! Why are you killing people?! This counts as evil! Points will be deducted!"

I flicked the blood off my blade and looked up at the ground littered with zombies I'd decapitated.

Then at the man who had just shoved a living person into a horde of zombies as feed—the same man I'd put my blade straight through the throat of.

My fingertip traced the character carved into the hilt: Love.

"What's the problem?"

I shot back. "I'm using my love to send them exactly where they belong. A physical deliverance counts as a good deed."

Everyone said I was just a shadow of Ethan, that I was nothing without him.
So during the tryouts, to comfort his "scared" sweetheart, he let go mid-jump, almost costing me my life.
He was betting I couldn't leave him, that I'd forgive him like I did the last eighteen times.
But he lost.
This time, I didn't cry or throw a fit.
I simply tossed the apartment key that symbolized our seven years together into the trash, then turned and walked toward my own world championship.