1104 Book(s) Related to im his

Marilyn is a self made boss and a Baddie. She does not soften for anyone but she made an exception for her fiancé.
Until she found out her fiancé Tom was cheating on her. To make matter worse, he didn't feel remorse. He broke off the engagement and left her standing there like a fool.
She ends up at a hotel bar, where an arrogant stranger approaches her. He’s persistent, irritatingly sure of himself, and exactly the kind of man she doesn’t deal with. She dismisses him and leaves, refusing to give any man her time anymore.
The next day, she goes to her ex’s office with the intention of ruining his peace. Instead, she finds the man from the bar. His name is Dante. He is her ex’s boss.
Dante proposes an offer and she accepts when she realizes it would get her the revenge she wants on her ex and even more.
The arrangement is clear: No feelings attached.
But the longer they play the part, the more the line blur.

This is a story about control, ego, attraction, and what happens when two people who don’t surrender to anyone start wanting each other anyway.

Everyone said I’d traded five years of my youth and my unwavering devotion for an engagement that every woman envied.
My fiancé, Felix Smith, seemed to believe it, too. He gave me pearls, promised me a bright future, and wrapped me up in a web of tenderness, layer after layer.
Until that afternoon, when he held me close, yet used a language he thought I didn’t understand to weave the perfect "wedding" con over the phone.
That was the moment I finally realized: over these five years, who had he really been looking at through me? And every pearl he ever gave me, whose tastes was he remembering?
When the elevator failed and darkness crashed down, the person he protected on instinct wasn’t me.
When the wind howled across the empty outskirts, the person he chose to abandon was me.
I’d been learning how to love him, how to become a proper bride. In the end, what I learned was how to exit quietly, out of his world with Serena.
Only when I slipped off that pearl ring did I understand—
Some love stories, from the very beginning, are nothing but long letters written to someone else.

In my last life, for the spy I executed, she framed me for treason and injected me with the zombie virus herself.

I died in a dungeon—by the hand of the one I trusted most.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back before it all began.

This time I didn’t interfere. I watched coldly as she got scratched, handed the only dose of serum to the spy, and as the gates swung open and he finally showed his true face.

At last she believed me, kneeling in the dirt, begging for forgiveness.

I looked into her eyes as they clouded over. “I warned you in my last life. You didn’t believe me.”

This life, every blade she wanted for me—lands on her instead.