1225 Book(s) Related to i can see your voice ph

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.

"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.

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."

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

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

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

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

They want my heart. I just want my pillow.

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

Can't a girl just chill?

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?

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.

In my previous life, I gave away all my resources to save people, but my godfather broke my legs and fed me to the zombies.
Reincarnated 30 days before the apocalypse, I borrowed millions to build a nuclear-proof bunker and bought twelve retired, violent, and rabid dogs.
Extreme cold descends. With nowhere else to turn and in a desperate attempt to survive, the priest forces a space-age ability user to pinpoint the coordinates of the area inside the bunker with the "highest concentration of heat," and then forcibly teleports to steal the bunker.
He landed laughing wildly, feeling the scorching heat wave hitting him, thinking he had taken over my generator room and greenhouse.
I sneered and remained silent through the bulletproof glass.
This idiot has no idea that the hottest place in my shelter... has never been the generator.

"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."

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.

"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 said I should redeem the world with love.
I’ve always been quick to take advice. So I raised my blade and struck down every scum of humanity one by one.
The system went berserk, letting out a shrill roar inside my head:
"Ahhh Host! Why are you killing people?! This is wicked! You’ll get your points deducted!"
I flicked the blood off my blade and looked around at the beheaded zombies littering the ground.
There was also the man I’d run through the throat—he’d just pushed a living person out to be eaten by zombies.
My fingertips brushed the word carved into the hilt: Love.
"What’s the problem?" I asked.
"I’m using my love to send them to where they deserve to go. Physical deliverance is also an act of kindness."

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.

My boyfriend's mistress deliberately gave me a strawberry cake that I'm allergic to.
After I went into anaphylactic shock and had a miscarriage, I knew it was all over.
But when I left it all behind and went back to my hometown, he showed up at my door telling me to quit throwing a fit, that he still loved me.
This kind of love full of betrayal?
I don't want it.

It was my fourth time putting on a wedding dress.

To protect myself against my own parents, I hired a ten-man security detail.

I specifically chose the most isolated chapel in the suburbs.

Because at my first three weddings, they acted like absolute maniacs—destroying my rings and making me a complete laughingstock in front of everyone.

I just couldn't understand what kind of parents would do such a thing.

This time, I actually thought I could finally marry Liam in peace.

Until the bridal suite door was kicked open.

And my dad, once again, snatched my diamond ring away.

A glass of drugged water left me completely naked on a hotel bed.

The task in the notebook was to accompany a stranger for three months, or else my nude photos would be exposed to everyone.

I had no choice but to agree and sacrifice my first time.

That night was extremely painful!

Because I was still a virgin, when his strong body pressed down on me, all I could do was grip the bedsheets tightly.

My inexperience made the man frown; "Emily, you slut, why are you suddenly so tight?"

He had mistaken me for someone else. Clearly, the woman named Emily was not a virgin. I couldn't reveal that it was my first time, so I bit my lip and endured the pain as best as I could. It hurt so much!

"Does it feel good, woman?" The man smirked at me, "You just moaned, you know. At least you've made some progress tonight."

Oh my God, did I really moan?

Alison felt unbearable shyness, closing her eyes tightly, desperately hoping for everything to end soon...

"In the toxic halls of Eastview High, Aria Bellwyn has mastered the art of being invisible. But when she's forced to tutor golden boy Knox Hale, she's thrust into a world of danger and desire. As they navigate the treacherous social hierarchy, Aria becomes the target of Knox's manipulative ex, Blaire, and the ruthless queen bee, Sarah. But Knox's secrets run deeper he's trapped in a deadly debt to a local crime lord, and Aria's the only one who can help him take down the corrupt empire controlling the school. As they risk everything to expose the truth, can they survive the betrayal lurking in every corner and find love in the process?

Dive into this heart-pumping, high-stakes romance where the line between invisible and irresistible is about to get blurred."

Victoria discovered that I hadn't submitted any supplemental medical expense claims for two weeks.
She assumed I had finally been disciplined and had given up what she called "the exploitative nature of the lower class."
Little did she know, my backpack held the signed divorce papers and my mother's death certificate.
As I turned to leave, I was still wearing the discounted trench coat she'd casually given me three years ago when we got married.
What she didn't know was that I, a deep-sea geology genius from MIT, willingly endured three years of her humiliation and ridiculous rules, just so my mother could stay in her conglomerate's private hospital to prolong her life.
Now, my mother has died because of unpaid bills , and even her ashes are carried by me in a cheap canvas bag.
Now that my loved one is dead, there's no need for me to continue being her obstructive dog on Wall Street. The lives she owed with those approval forms, I will settle with the collapse of her entire conglomerate empire.

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

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

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

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

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

After sleeping for a thousand years, I returned to the ancestral castle that was supposed to be mine.
Only to find my throne torn down and turned into an auction block for the black market, my territory carved up clean by traitors.
And my only pureblood descendant in this world was actually being auctioned off like livestock—covered in blood, chained up with a cheap dog collar around his neck.
The entire room of nobles and elites mistook me for the lowest kind of half-blood trash, mocking me as a rat too stupid to know when he was dead.
The usurper, eager to curry favor with the Abyss, shouted that he would drain me dry and offer my blood as a tribute to the three pureblood princes deep within the Abyss.
Then the void split open, and those three supreme princes—the untouchable monsters the world worshiped—truly descended.
Under the horrified gaze of more than a thousand nobles and elites, those three ancient monsters threw themselves at my feet, scrambling and crawling, wailing in terror without even daring to raise their heads:
"Your unworthy descendants... welcome the Ancestor's return!!!"

I agreed to marry the brain - damaged Alpha of the Lyra's Howl Pack. All I wanted was a large sum of money and to have Frank transferred to serve my half - sister, Stephnie. I thought it would be my way of getting revenge, but I unexpectedly discovered that Frank was deeply in love with Stephnie, who turned out to be a cruel and manipulative person. After going through a series of painful experiences, including an avalanche, the truth finally came to light, and Frank realized his mistake. By then, I had already fallen in love with Alpha Bruce. When Frank tried to stop my wedding with Bruce, I firmly chose Bruce and left Frank in the past.

Krystal Hunter died with a broken heart, a knife in her back, and one regret—she finally won the damn lottery right before she died. Ten million dollars, untouched, deposited in the bank… wasted.
Or so she thought.
Because when Krystal wakes up in a hospital bed—very much not dead—the world has gone to economic hell. The global economy has collapsed, the dollar has depreciated into dust... and her forgotten bank account?
Now worth one hundred billion.
With the world burning and billionaires falling like flies, Krystal is no longer the girl they betrayed. She’s richer than empires, hungrier than ever, and back to collect what she’s owed—with interest.
Ex-lovers, fake friends, and bloodthirsty siblings beware:
She died once. She’s not dying quietly again.

A deliciously savage romantic revenge comedy about wealth, power, payback, and kissing someone hot while the economy collapses.

A time of ancient ignorance. Humans did not yet exist, the ancestors of the elves were still trolls, and the titans ruled the earth and the dragons ruled the skies. At the end of the Age, the Titans and Dragons fought and lost. At this time, a traveler descended on a tribe of Hawkmen, leading them gradually out of their own evolutionary path, and eventually became a tribe of angels. Countless years later. The King of Angels, the Lord of Judgment, Jiang You, was on the throne of heaven. Endless beings sang in unison: 'Holy! Holy! Sinners can't look upon the majesty and glory of God. Each one is crowned with a crown of jade and honored with a golden throne."

When Edie Marshall meets a mysterious - and drop-dead gorgeous - man in the woods just outside her small town, she has no idea who he is or where he’s come from.

She has no idea why she has such an instant, intense connection with this dangerous-looking man, with his arms full of tattoos and his deep, velvety voice.

She has no idea why she trusts him enough to tell him things she’s never told anyone else.

And she definitely has no idea that their brief, passionate encounter will lead to her getting pregnant.

It’s only then that she learns her “mystery man” from the woods is actually Rafe Fontaine - celebrity, Hollywood royalty, and notorious womanizer.

Can she trust her heart - and her baby - to Hollywood’s wildest bad boy?

Due to explicit scenes, this steamy romance is rated 18+.

The Mystery of You is created by Ember Casey, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

Avrielle believed Adrian was her savior when he rescued her from a death sentence five years ago . She spent years enduring his infidelity and her family's cruelty, only to be cast out when his fated mate—her own stepsister—claims his heart and his child .

Broken and desperate, Avrielle seeks one night of rebellion in the arms of a cold, lethal stranger, never realizing she has just bedded the Devil of the North: Alpha Xavier .

But Xavier has a secret of his own. Six years ago, he signed a death warrant for a traitor, never knowing the woman was his fated mate . Now, the truth is surfacing: the treason was a setup, the rescue was a kidnapping, and the man Avrielle called husband is actually her greatest enemy .

The Alpha is no longer watching from the shadows—he’s coming to reclaim his queen and destroy everyone who stood in his way

James Johnson bought me from the black market for five million.
I went from being a mercenary to his bodyguard, and also his plaything to satisfy his desires.
Countless intimate nights gradually changed the nature of our relationship.
Until he risked his life to save me during a gang shootout.
His restrained feelings finally broke free, and he proposed to me.
But today, five years later.
Right after James took control of the Johnson Family, he quickly got engaged to Julia, the daughter of the Smith Family, the biggest arms dealer.
I confronted him, only to overhear his conversation with a friend.
"I told Sophia I'd marry her just to make her give everything for me, even die for me. After all, those brothers fighting me for the inheritance are all crazy."
His friend laughed. "But she's risked her life for you for six years. That's pretty cold."
"Doesn't matter. With her background, she was never fit to be a mafia heir's wife anyway."
I stood outside the door and let out a bitter laugh.
Back in my room, I contacted Marshall Johnson.
"I promised to keep James safe until he became head of the Johnson Family. The mission's complete now. Please give me my freedom as agreed."

"Sophie Patterson. Don't you dare walk away from me." Logan's menacing stare bore at me. I suddenly didn't feel drunk anymore. I sobered up quickly.

"What, Logan? You're gonna tell me that you suddenly love me again? That you're here to sweep me off my feet? Please! I didn't need you all this time, and I don't need you now." He clenched his jaw, fisting his hands.

"Enough. Stop being so damn stubborn. You know I do. I love you. I never stopped loving you, Sophie. It was always you."

I left my hometown hoping to never see him again. I left with his baby still inside of me.

Seven years after, and here I am again. Standing before him and a six-year-old wanting to know who his dad is, and asking me to marry him because everyone in his class but him and his best friend don't have a daddy.

What am I supposed to do with all these feelings that are resurfacing? I'm realizing every day that I never got over him. I merely suppressed my feelings, and his telling me this now- to my face, just made things more complicated.

Dorian, my boyfriend of three years, was a partner at a top-tier Boston law firm. He was gentle, refined, and absolutely flawless.
A week ago, he buried his face in my neck late at night, whispering that the city was suffocating him. He wanted to take me back to his hometown to meet Octavia, the grandmother who had single-handedly raised him.
I agreed without hesitation.
But on Crane Island, every night Dorian would slip out of our bed, using Octavia's gout as an excuse.
Until that night. I crept barefoot to Octavia’s door and pressed my ear against the wood.
What I heard wasn’t a sick old woman. It was Dorian’s heavy panting, mixed with the shameless, breathy moans of a young woman...

All she yearns for was her father's dick buried deep inside her wet vagina, she would always get mad each time she caught a glimpse of any lady chatting with her dad. This feeling had to stop; she was lusting after her dad. There are many guys out there, trying their logical best to seize her attention for she was a beauty to behold, but all she wanted was her dad, her dad only. She always wished for her mom to always be on business trips, so she would have all the time with her hottie Dad.

It started as a mere attraction, a mere attraction from a daughter to her dad, but what started as a mere attraction became lust, pure lust.

Daniella is the only child of her parents, her mom was always on business trips, so she hardly took care of her only child. This made her grow fond of her young and super hot Dad. While growing up, both father and daughter fell in love with each other, but each of them tried to conceal their feelings for one another.

But such feelings of lust couldn't be hidden for long, such feelings of cravings couldn't be held back.

Would Daniella and her dad get to stop the taboo they were about to engage in?

Would the lust between them turn to love?

Read! To get all the answers.

I was at my favorite artist's concert, phone up, recording the Kiss Cam segment. My boyfriend Mason said he was three hours away having dinner at his parents' house and couldn't make it, even sent me a selfie as proof.

Then the Kiss Cam found him.

On the giant screen, Mason wore the exact same gray vintage rock tee and black ripped jeans from his "family dinner photo," his arm around a blonde girl with her head on his shoulder.

The arena erupted: "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

He looked like he'd seen a ghost, frantically trying to block the camera.

My phone's location alert read: "Mason is nearby (0.1 miles)."

Three years of us, exposed as a massive lie in front of thousands of cheering strangers.

For three years of marriage, I played the perfect, obedient wife.
I married him only because my family once saved his from bankruptcy, and because I had loved him since college.
I thought time would soften his heart.
Then his ex returned, and everything fell apart.
He threw a welcome party for her himself, called me to the office under the pretense of work, then turned around and dismissed me as an eyesore. The whispers in the company cut into me like needles.
That same day, the hospital called. I was eight weeks pregnant with his child. Before the joy could settle, the word divorce fell lightly from his lips.
I asked for three months, just enough time to leave with what little dignity I had left. He agreed without emotion.
Yet after I moved out, he secretly placed me in a luxury apartment and stationed people to watch me day and night.
When I finally hid my pregnancy and resolved to raise the child alone, ready to confront his scheming ex, he cornered me against the wall, eyes red, voice shaking.
“Who gave you permission to walk away with my child?”

My fiancée and best friend, whom I risked my life to protect, sold me to the brutal "Blood Blade Gang . "
They laughed as they watched me being kicked into a pool of radioactive waste like a dog, waiting for me to turn into a pile of bones.
But they didn't know that the deadly radiation not only failed to melt me, but also forcibly ruptured my genetic lock, awakening the [Nuclear Fury].
I rode back to the old camp in her heavily armored vehicle.
Those two scoundrels were still arrogantly bullying me: "I have the Blood Blade Gang backing me! The big shots are coming soon, you're dead!"
I sneered and slapped them away.
Idiots, look back! Your so-called powerful backer is kneeling in the vehicle, lighting my cigarette.

“Sheridan, Link gave me hope to live this past year. I’m pregnant with his child now. He’s been malnourished since he was a baby. Could you be a little more generous and give him half of your food?”

"To quell the rumors, give him the commander's authority as well! Consider it proof of your tolerance, and that way everyone will accept our family of three!"

Looking at my fiancée, who was heavily pregnant and had a saintly glow on her face, I felt a wave of nausea wash over me.

Five years of entrusting each other with life and death have resulted in this scene.

Alright, I'll grant your wish.

Without arguing or making a scene, I readily signed the power transfer agreement, removed my epaulets, and walked without looking back into the underground forbidden zone that everyone feared.

There, a crazy witch with a morbid possessiveness toward me is imprisoned.

Sylvia thought that after I relinquished power, I would only be able to kneel in the mud like a stray dog and watch them be affectionate.

But she had no idea that I was the one who had the safety net for her throughout the entire city!

After losing my protection, the system completely crashed within a few days.

That freeloader completely dropped his pretense, not only beating her half to death with domestic violence, but also attempting to invade her private space.

When she crawled to the gate of the restricted area covered in blood, crying and begging me for forgiveness and to save her life.

I was being held in the arms of that aloof witch, watching the pretty boy who had come looking for me:

"The experiment actually spoke, darling..."

As the only mute player in this horror game, I thought I was screwed.

Turns out the boss knows sign language.

Thank God! Perfect!

Then he gets everything completely wrong.

I sign "help me," he reads it as "you're hot."

I sign "danger," he thinks I'm saying "I like you."

I sign "get lost," and he goes, "You want me to come closer? Okay."

The worst part? I curse him out in sign language, calling him a psycho pervert.

He just smiles and says, "Baby, you're so good at flirting. I can't even bring myself to kill you now."

Me: ...

My teammate whispers to me, "Please stop signing. Every time you do, he stares at you even more like a psycho."

"I fell in love with a stranger. I didn't know he was my brother."
When I first saw Victor, I didn't see a sibling. I saw a man who set my skin on fire. I saw a pair of dark eyes that reflected my own soul. Our attraction wasn't just a choice—it was a gravity I couldn't escape. For weeks, we existed in a fever dream of late nights and whispered promises, building a future on a foundation I never knew was forbidden.
Then the truth came out. One old photograph, a single name, and my world shattered.
Now, the touch that felt like heaven feels like a sin. But how do you stop your heart from beating for the one person you were never supposed to touch?

In my past life, I signed a marriage agreement, served as a live-in son-in-law for five years, and died in a hospital. Meanwhile, my "wife," Grace, was on the moon, embracing her lover and watching the star rings.
Given a second chance, she threw the agreement in my face at the marriage summit: "Sign it. After the wedding, I'll go find Karl. You'd better act like the legal wife."
I didn't refuse; I just tossed the agreement to my emotional nemesis .
The whole city laughed at my madness.
Until Grace flaunted her "pure-blood heir" at the 100-day celebration, I publicly projected her sterilization report—
the bastard in her arms was the product of her lover and a downtown prostitute.
And her lover was being mutilated in the downtown area.
In this life, I'm not a live-in son-in-law; I'm her gravedigger.

Hiding my identity and marrying an ambitious female celebrity—this is the most boring social experiment I've ever done.
She wants me to leave with nothing.
She gave my family heirloom to that gigolo.
She tweeted that I was "low-class trash".
She didn't know that Hollywood, which she was desperately trying to climb up to, was nothing more than my backyard.
She had no idea that those capitalists she fawned over would all bow down and call me "Mr. Rockwell."
Until that night, she stripped naked, attempting to offer herself to the enigmatic "godfather of capital"—
The leather sofa slowly turned around.
The lights were on.
She saw my face.
“Chloe,” I flicked my cigar ash, “what brings you here?”

On my son's seventh birthday, he hid behind my husband's first love and shouted at me, "You're a bad woman! She's my real mom!"
My husband was even crueler. He threw me out of the house without a second thought.
"To me, you were nothing but a surrogate."
Heartbroken, I walked away—and later adopted an abandoned little boy.
Years passed, when my husband finally learned the truth about the woman he had always protected, he came to me with our biological son, both of them kneeling before me in tears, begging for forgiveness.
Holding my adopted son's hand, I smiled calmly.
"Sorry. I only have one son."

I have been tormented by a strange illness for ten years, with blood draws and surgeries being commonplace.
My mother always encouraged me, saying, "Nian Nian, bear with it a little longer. The pain will be over soon. Mom and Dad are doing this to save your life."
Hoping to be cured as soon as possible, I gritted my teeth and endured ten years of painful treatments, even if it meant living like a lab subject.
That was until I accidentally overheard my parents’ cruel conversation:
“Increase the blood draw even more. It doesn’t matter if she dies—she was only picked up to save Ying Ying. As long as she has a breath left, she owes it to us.”
At that moment, I finally understood: I was never sick at all.
The decade of daily treatments were nothing but a way to use me to extend the life of their biological daughter.

Three years of marriage, and she was nothing but his invisible "secretary" — or worse, the woman he accused of drugging him to get a ring on her finger.
It wasn't until Grace watched Alfred stroll out of the VIP terminal with his ex on his arm that she finally understood. This marriage had only ever been real to one of them.
She signed the divorce papers without a scene. Quietly resigned. And moved on.
That's when he lost control.
"Grace, who gave you the right to just leave?"
"Is this about another man? You're divorcing me for him?"
Then came the night he stood in the rain, eyes red, blocking her path.
"I was wrong. Can we go home?"
She looked at him and said simply, "Mr. White, we're already divorced."

Her daughter lay dying—her only chance at survival resting in a bone marrow transplant from her biological father.
That man, the one Stella Johnson had once loved with all her heart, was nowhere to be found.
While Stella made call after call, hands trembling with desperation, Charles Hart was busy building a crystal castle for the daughter of his beloved white moonlight—lighting up the entire city with fireworks in her honor.
All Stella got in return was a cold, clipped response:
"I'm busy."
And then… silence.
She waited.
And waited.
Until the warmth left her daughter's tiny hand.
He never came.
Cradling the small urn, Stella stepped into the streets—only to be greeted by a cruel spectacle.
Every digital screen on the bustling boulevard played the same scene:
Charles, his white moonlight, and their daughter, smiling under the fireworks as they sang "Happy Birthday," basking in a future built on someone else's grave.
The love Stella once held for Charles didn't just die that night—it was burned to ash.
And from those ashes, something far stronger rose:
Hatred. Cold. Sharp. Unforgiving.