4543 Book(s) Related to one two buckle my shoe agatha christie

My husband, Alessandro Vidi, is the most powerful mob boss in Chicago.

He once swore to me that he would protect our son Leo and me with his life.

Until that soccer game. His enemies attacked the field. To shield Leo, I took a bullet through my abdomen. But Leo still got hit three times and fell in a pool of blood.

Alessandro arrived, took down the attackers on the spot, and rushed us to his private hospital.

In the hospital room, the searing pain jolted me awake briefly. I wanted to call out to him, but instead I heard his conversation with his men.

"Boss, I thought we were only taking one kidney. Why did Leo have to—"

"Elena's wound isn't fatal. Just the abdomen." Alessandro's voice was ice-cold. "I've been raising Leo for seven years just for this. Now that Luca has his kidney, keeping him around would only be a problem for Luca."

"After all... Luca is my real son."

That moment, I understood—the shooting at the soccer field was never an enemy's revenge. It was murder he orchestrated himself. He traded my son's life for his mistress's child's life.

But he will never know—

Luca isn't even his flesh and blood.

I'm dead.

Died that rainy night, desperate because I couldn't scrape together five thousand dollars to save my dog.

Liam laughed at me over the phone—my childhood friend told me to quit the sob story. His new girlfriend Sarah said I should get on my knees and beg if I wanted her to toss me some scraps. They had no idea every dollar I owed those loan sharks was to cover up Liam's hit-and-run.

My dog died. So I jumped into Black Lake.

It wasn't until they pulled my body from the water that Liam found the surveillance footage in that tin box and realized what a massive mistake he'd made. Then he snapped, dragging Sarah and everyone else who killed me down into the depths, one by one.

Too bad it was already too late.

Ten years ago, I sat in the witness stand and told the court my beloved Uncle Arthur was a monster.

My testimony sent him away for twenty years and made my father Robert a hero.

For a decade, I lived inside the perfect world my father built around me — safe and warm and suffocating. Then one afternoon, digging through boxes in the basement, I found Buster's old collar. My golden retriever. The dog I'd made myself forget.

The memory hit like a freight train.

The man in the dark had clamped his hand over my mouth, and I could smell him now — peppermint and cologne, thick and choking. I saw Buster lunge at him. Saw the man's boot connect with the dog's ribs.

But Uncle Arthur was deathly allergic to dogs. He couldn't get near Buster without his throat closing up.

If it wasn't Arthur that night — then who the hell was it?

Ryan Aldridge had one rule: he showed up for whoever needed him most.

The problem was, it was never me.

Throat swelling shut in the ER? He was unclogging Sloane Harrington's drain. Anniversary dinner? He left between courses because Sloane was "spiraling."

I forgave it every time. I was the cool girl. The understanding fiancée.

Then my studio caught fire, and a beam came down on my chest.

I lay there—bleeding, pinned, choking on smoke—and watched Ryan vault over me to carry out a woman with a sprained ankle.

"Jocelyn, come on. You can handle this. Look at her—she's shaking."

Something in me went still. Not broken. Finished.

I twisted off the ring with blood-slick fingers and let it disappear into the ash.

Then I disappeared too.

"Arthur, I want a divorce."

My husband was busy draping his suit jacket over Chloe's shoulders, his precious childhood sweetheart. He didn't even turn around, just let out a cold laugh.

"Oh, Evelyn. Playing the sick father card again? That trick's getting old." His voice was dismissive. "I moved your dad out of that private room to teach you a lesson. Maybe now you'll learn some manners around Chloe."

He was so certain I'd come crawling back like I had for three years, begging him to pay for Dad's treatment. So sure I'd be sobbing apologies by tomorrow morning.

What Arthur didn't know was that three hours ago, they'd wheeled my father's body into the cold hospital morgue.

And the divorce papers in my purse were already signed. I didn't need his money anymore.

"Give Lydia half your beast core blood—you owe our clan that much!"

Facing the man who wore my brother-in-law Arthur's face but carried my dead husband Carlisle's distinct scent, I didn't fight back. I let him drive the blade into my chest.

Three years married, and Carlisle died in the border beast surge. I'd tried to follow him in death so many times that grief had nearly bled me dry—only to catch him alive, faking his death so he could marry his precious sister-in-law under his brother's name.

To keep his cover, he stood by while his new woman degraded me, even forced me to sign a slave contract that stripped me of all dignity.

He thought I loved him too much to ever leave.

Until I drained every drop of blood that carried his mate bond and disappeared.

That's when this arrogant bastard finally lost it completely.

I found the thirteenth piece of evidence of Reid's affair today.

Black lace panties, shoved deep between his car seats.

The first time, it was designer lipstick in his glove box. "Oh, that's mine," my friend Mia shrugged. "Must've fallen out when Reid gave me a ride."

The sixth time, a hotel key card in his console. "I borrowed his car for a business trip," my brother Owen explained calmly. "Stop being so paranoid, Nadia."

Thirteen times. Thirteen perfect excuses.

When I confront Reid with the panties, he just makes a phone call.

On speaker, Mia and Owen claim the underwear is theirs—some late-night hookup in my fiancé's back seat. "You're being ridiculous, Nadia," they snap in unison. "You're getting married. Start acting like it. Trust him."

I watch Reid's face, that innocent mask he wears so well.

Then I smile.

Because I bought those panties myself. I planted them there.

And now I finally know who's been his accomplice all along.

"Olivia, get back here and apologize to Mia RIGHT NOW, or we're through!" My fiancé Arthur screamed into his phone in the ER hallway, his face twisted in disgust.

My parents fussed over their adopted daughter Mia's red eyes. All this drama over a scratch on her finger.

My phone lay shattered in blood at the abandoned chemical plant downtown, screen flickering weakly.

I was already dead. The kidnappers had snapped my limbs and set me on fire.

I hovered above them, watching them lose their minds over Mia's fake tears while cursing my name and wishing I'd disappear forever.

Three days later, when cops knocked on Sterling Manor's door with a charred engagement ring, they finally got what they wanted.

"Grace, your trashy mom ruined Jessica's dress. Bitch deserved to die!"

Blake stepped on the bloody corpse, shoving me down to grovel at Jessica's feet.

The bastard forgot already? My mom sold our Texas ranch to make him rich! But once he hit it big, he let his secretary Jessica beat her to death like she was some street bum.

I looked at the body wearing that emerald ring, trying to tell him the truth, but he backhanded me hard.

Then the asshole ordered her thrown in the septic tank just to kiss up to Jessica.

I wiped blood from my mouth and laughed.

Idiot had no clue—that wasn't even my mother.

I died in New York on a cold November night, a piece of guardrail through my chest.

Choking on blood, I dialed my ex-fiancé Damien's number.

In the background, jazz played at the Waldorf Astoria. People cheered for Aria—the girl my parents raised in my place.

"Thea, are you SERIOUS right now?" Damien's voice dripped with disgust. "Faking your own death to ruin Aria's engagement? Jesus, Thea. Even for you, that's low."

My mother Diana grabbed the phone. Her voice was ice. "If you don't show up tonight, don't ever come back to the Sinclair house. Better yet—don't bother."

Then she hung up.

They didn't know this time I was really dying.

When my fiancé left me to burn alive to save his "fragile" white lotus, I thought my story was over.

But death had other plans.

Reborn with memories intact, I watched him make the same fatal choice—abandoning me in the flames for her. This time, I smiled and said, "Go save her."

Because this time, the most powerful Alpha in North America was coming for me.

Derek thought he was discarding a burden. He had no idea he was throwing away his only lifeline.

Now, as I stand beside Lucas in his billion-dollar empire, watching my ex grovel in the gutter, I have just one message: karma is a bitch, and so am I.

I never believed in fate, but that is the only way the four of us could have ever found each other. Adam Westmont, Adrian Volkov, and Anthony Davis were the golden boys of high society in our city. They were born with everything they could ever want at their finger tips, while I was not. Life wasn't as easy for me as it was for them, and maybe that was how is meant to be. Until fate brought them into my life one by one. Then tragedy hit us all. In the span of one week we all lost our family in suspicious deaths. When we are nearly taken out by someone trying to silence me for good, the guys basically kidnap me to find out what I know. The more we talk the more we start to realize that the deaths of our parents might have more in common than it seems.
The police are too scared to go near this case, so it's up to us to find out the truth. But the truth could either bring us together once and for all or destroy everything we have built.
Fate may have brought us together but it won't save us when the truth comes out. Nothing can stop the storm that's coming.

"I need to marry you."
He laughed. "Marry me? You're out of your mind."
"Probably," I said calmly. "But I don't have another choice."
His smile turned dangerous. "Then pick someone else. I am Luca Marino... The Monster."
I met his eyes. "That's exactly why I picked you."
My father died, leaving me a shattered empire and a death sentence. To save my family, I offered myself to the one man powerful enough to protect us. Luca Marino. The Mafia king everyone fears. Our marriage is a contract, not a love story. Power for him. Protection for me. But Luca doesn't play fair. He kisses like a threat and touches like a promise. And every time I think I've figured him out, he ruins me all over again. I'm playing a dangerous game. And I'm falling for the most dangerous man alive.

"Just this once." Ethan's huge cock thrust hard into me.
He lifted one of my legs and hung it over his shoulder, thrusting so hard I moaned uncontrollably. "God, you're so tight..."
I tried to escape, but he grabbed my ankles and pulled me towards him.
I begged, "Let go of me...I'm dying..."

A year ago, Lucy was imprisoned after being framed for intentionally injuring Ivy, her husband Ethan's first love. After being granted family leave, she rushes to visit her ailing grandmother, but Ethan fucks her against her will. He mercilessly make her give a blood transfusion to Ivy, causing her to miss her grandmother’s dying words. Jailed, the only family dead, and her dreams shattered, Lucy is desperate for a divorce from this man who doesn't love her, but Ethan coldly proclaims, "There's only widowhood in the Storm family, not divorce."

To save my stepsister's life, I accepted a contract marriage with a stranger—$100,000 for one year.

Sebastian Sterling, the mysterious billionaire from Manhattan's Upper East Side, a devastatingly handsome bachelor. He needed a wife in name only, I needed money—a perfect arrangement.

But as I lost myself in his tender gaze and caring touch, his ex-girlfriend's return shattered everything. Behind this mail-order bride arrangement lay a shocking secret—

My true identity was the only key to his billion-dollar inheritance.

I was the most pathetic existence on campus.

Thick glasses, baggy sweaters, walking through the cafeteria like crossing a minefield. Albert, my childhood crush of three years, publicly mocked me as "a pathetic little dog following him around." Campus queen Madison crushed me under her heel. That rainy night, I gave up completely and swore to make them all pay.

Three months later, I returned.

Bronze skin, perfect curves, stunning hair—the entire campus was buzzing about this "mystery goddess." No one recognized that I was once the pathetic Molly Baker.

When Albert discovered the truth, it was too late. The man standing beside me shocked the entire school.

When debt-ridden Wendy Chen hits rock bottom, an unexpected "job" becomes her lifeline—a contract marriage with veteran Jason Morrison, paying $100,000 a year for one year, with a single assignment: being a "mom" to his fourteen-year-old son Liam.

This should have been the perfect business arrangement. Jason needs someone to care for his stepmother-resistant son, while Wendy needs money to escape the crushing gambling debts her ex-husband left behind. No love, no expectations—just cold contractual terms.

But when Liam "welcomes" her with a bucket of ice water, when Jason struggles through PTSD episodes during thunderstorms, when her dangerous ex-husband resurfaces to threaten her new life... Wendy finds herself caught in a deadly trap: she's genuinely falling in love with this broken family.

Until fourteen-year-old Liam accidentally discovers the contract.

Everything falls apart.

My husband Eric couldn't speak after a car accident three years ago. Three years of silence. Not one word.

To pay for his rehab, I worked four jobs at once—worked until I was coughing up blood, until I collapsed. Winter nights, Leo and I huddled under one threadbare blanket. When my son spiked a fever and I had no money for medicine, I stayed up all night pressing wet rags to his burning forehead.

Eric? His only communication was cold texts, ordering me around. When Leo reached for a hug, he'd push him away like our son didn't exist.

I endured it all. Because deep down, I believed the accident was my fault.

Until that night.

I was hauling equipment at Selena's concert—Selena, the pop star everyone knew—when a mystery guest in a mask stepped on stage. They sang together, voices blending like they'd done this a thousand times.

That voice. That lightning-shaped scar on his elbow.

My "mute" husband of three years.

I followed him backstage. Through the door, I heard Selena's laugh: "Congrats, Eric. Your mute act is almost over—you won the bet."

Three years of sacrifice.

All of it just a game. A bet with his first love.

Running for my life, I tumble straight into a hidden underground palace of nightmares.

The Bride-Selection slaughter is underway—no girl has survived in ten years. Bodies torn apart, blood everywhere.

Then the monstrous black dragon lowers its massive head… and gently nuzzles my palm like a lovesick puppy.

The man on the throne stares down with violet eyes.

"You don't get to run anymore. You're my queen now."

That same night he rips away every scrap of silk, pins me to the freezing dragon-sized bed, and shoves his thick, burning cock so deep I scream until my voice breaks.

"Try escaping again," he growls against my ear, hips slamming into me without mercy, "and I'll chain you to this bed and fuck you until you can't even crawl."

This terrifyingly beautiful monster—what deadly secrets is he hiding?

And me, the runaway bride his dragon picked… will I ever break free from his cage?

Before I died, I married mob boss Dante in my sister's place.

Five years of marriage, and I was nothing but her replacement. He hated me for stealing her spot. My parents were ashamed I couldn't make him love me. Everyone just waited for her to come back.

Christmas Eve—fire tore through the mountain estate. Dante's first move? Sprint straight to my sister, fresh off the plane. My parents escaped right behind him. Nobody remembered the pregnant wife locked in the dressing room. Smoke and flames took me and my baby while they held each other outside, celebrating they'd made it out alive.

I opened my eyes on the day they cornered me with divorce papers.

My parents threw the documents at me. My sister stood there smirking, ready to slide into my place. This time? I didn't cry. Didn't beg. I picked up the pen and signed.

They wanted me gone? Done.

We both married the wrong men. It killed us both.

My past life was hell—my violent temper disgusted gentle Alpha Ashen, his weakness suffocated me. We were toxic together. Meanwhile, my sweet sister Elena married brutal Alpha Karl of Dark Moon Pack, only to get slowly tortured by his manipulative childhood sweetheart until she couldn't take it anymore and jumped.

Now I'm back. Wedding day. White dress. Same disasters waiting.

I tear off the veil and storm to Elena's room: "We're switching places."

She gets the gentle Alpha who'll worship her kindness. I get the ruthless bastard and his scheming little princess.

Let's see how that scheming bitch handles a Luna who fights back.

My mate lost his memory and fell in love with another woman.

Alpha Killian Cross forgot our five-year bond after a rogue attack. Sandra, the Omega who saved him, became his new obsession. I fought to restore his memories—and succeeded.

But the day he remembered me was the day Sandra killed herself. Killian blamed me for her death and chose to hate me instead.

When rogues attacked our pack, he died taking a hit meant for me. His last words? "I wish you'd never made me remember. I wish you'd let me love her."

Now I'm back—reborn to the day I first found him with Sandra. This time, I won't fight for his memories. This time, I'll let him keep his happiness with her.

Even if it kills me all over again.

I'd been married to Nikolai Konstantin for three years. In that time, I'd miscarried six times for him—nearly died on the operating table once.

Every time I woke up, this cold-blooded mafia boss would hold my hand and say, "I'm sorry you had to go through this. Should we try again?"

I thought he loved me.

Until my seventh pregnancy, when I saw that video—

My sister Scarlett curled up in his arms, crying: "Nik, she's had six miscarriages... what if something happens to her? It's all my fault. My heart condition won't let me carry a baby..."

Nikolai kissed the top of her head: "Don't worry, baby. Her body can handle a few more tries. I promised you a child, and I always keep my promises."

That was when I finally understood—

The child in my womb had NEVER been ours.

On what should have been the happiest night of my life, I discovered a brutal truth—my fiancé Asher, whom I'd loved for seven years, was having an affair with my sister Janet in a storage room. Even worse, they were plotting to take everything from me!

"That idiot still thinks I'm the helpless little wolf pup from the orphanage who needed her protection... She has no idea I now prefer cunning women like you."

Hearing those words from their own mouths, my heart shattered completely. In my rage, I decided to fight fire with fire, rescuing the mysterious werewolf Eric from a dangerous containment facility just before his execution. I thought I'd found my weapon for revenge, never knowing this "dangerous" wolf harbored an even greater secret.

I am Alexander Sterling's secretary. I am also his wife.

But to everyone else, I'm only the first.

Five years ago, I married New York's most powerful CEO because of this face—not for love, but because I looked like Sophia. His childhood friend. His adopted sister. The woman whose family shipped her off to London for an arranged marriage.

I thought time would make him forget her.

Then she came back three months ago—a widow.

That's when I finally got it: the stand-in wasn't needed anymore.

So I made my choice.

I got him to sign divorce papers, took a job in Kenya, and decided to disappear from Alexander Sterling's world for good.

Our baby and me both.

The night I almost drank myself to death at a client dinner, my husband Alexander bought his first love a luxury yacht.

Maya posted it on Instagram that same night: "Best birthday gift EVER! You know who you are 💕🛥️~"

In the photo, she was in a bikini, champagne in hand, glowing with joy.

Then came the credit card alert—our joint account had been maxed out.

Before I could even confront him, Alexander called.

"Are you serious right now? Why'd you lock the card? Maya's been struggling with her depression—she needs to go sailing to clear her head! Why can't you show some compassion?"

I wanted to tell him that last night, I'd nearly killed myself closing a deal for his company.

But he'd already hung up.

Later that evening, Maya posted again—an extravagant jewelry set. The caption: "When someone truly GETS you 💎✨"

In the photo, she wore a diamond ring I never got, not even on my wedding day.

But by then, I was done caring.

Because I'd made my decision—to disappear completely.

They said I killed them all.

My father. My daughter. My brother's legs. One explosion, one moment of selfishness, and I became the family murderer.

My husband Dominic—the most feared mafia boss in the city—drowned himself in whiskey. I drowned myself in something worse.

Three years on the pole. Three years with strangers' cash stuffed in my bra, their cocks shoved down my throat, their fists in back alleys, their cameras catching every degradation. Three years swallowing cum and shame to scrape together half a million for my brother's surgery.

Then the doctors found the tumor. Three months left.

One last show, I told myself. A blindfolded performance. Enough to pay off Ethan's debt before I died.

That's when someone ripped off my blindfold.

Dominic.

Behind him stood my very-alive father. And Ethan—on two perfect legs, kicking aside an empty wheelchair. And my adopted sister Vanessa, draped over my husband, flashing a diamond ring.

This whole performance? Her birthday present.

"Surprise, sweetheart." Dominic smiled. "The explosion was fake. We just needed to put you in your place."

Ethan laughed. "Three years of stripper money made one hell of a party, sis."

My father still wouldn't look at me. "Learn to treat Vanessa right, or you're no daughter of mine."

The room exploded in laughter.

I stood there, diagnosis crumpled in my fist.

The explosion was fake. The crippled legs were fake. Everything was fake.

But the cancer eating my brain?

That was real.

Twenty-one times.

I've signed the mate bond with Kael Nightshade, Lord of the Black Panther Clan, twenty-one times.

And dissolved it twenty-one times.

Not because we didn't love each other.

But because every few months, she comes back.

Seraphine. His first love. The angel who shattered her wings saving him, leaving her mind fractured and fragile.

"Seeing the mate mark sends her into psychotic breaks," he'd say, burning the bond from my skin. "I owe her my life."

So I'd erase the mark. Burn the contract. Pretend we were never bound.

The first time, I cried and begged. He backhanded me: "Cut the bullshit. We'll rebond once she's back in the sanatorium."

The thirteenth time, I followed them to a tavern and watched him tenderly kiss the scarred stumps where her wings used to be. When I confronted them, he knocked me down and locked me in enchanted restraints for seven days straight.

Sign. Burn. Erase. An endless cycle I couldn't escape.

Until the twenty-first time.

Fire engulfed the manor. Seraphine and I were trapped in different wings. Kael could only save one of us.

"Kael!" I collapsed at the window, smoke choking my lungs. "I'm pregnant—please—"

He shifted into his panther form and bolted toward her room.

The guards dragged me out thirty minutes later. Third-degree burns across my back, lungs filled with ash, blood pooling beneath me.

No heartbeat.

Kael stood in the safe zone, holding an unscathed Seraphine in his arms. From the moment the flames erupted until they pulled me from the rubble, he never looked back.

Not once.

The twenty-first dissolution was my choice.

There won't be a twenty-second.

At a three-day yacht party, my suppressants went missing.

Without them, my heat—that humiliating, consuming need my body couldn't control—hit me like a sledgehammer.

Worse—as I stumbled out of the bathroom, I collided with him.

Victor Sterling. My father's best friend. My boss. The one man I had no business fantasizing about every night when I touched myself.

This man, infamous for never touching women and his ice-cold control, never came to parties like this. Yet here he was.

And the worst part? Thanks to the storm, I'm trapped in a room with him tonight.

A year ago, Sophia was recalled from overseas medical school. Her father announced she must marry Ethan Sullivan, head of the Sullivan crime family, to save their bankruptcy.

Ethan Sullivan—uncrowned king of New York's underworld, cold-blooded killer. Complete opposite of her life-saving profession.

She fought desperately—humiliated him at their engagement, sabotaged business meetings, even escaped at midnight. Ethan never got angry, just quietly cleaned up, growing more gentle and devoted.

Until rival families shot at them. He shielded her with his body, blood soaking his white shirt, still comforting her: "It's okay. I'm here."

Sophia fell completely.

"I'll marry you," she told him in his hospital bed, "but tell me—do you really love me?"

Ethan nodded without hesitation: "I love you. You're the first and only one."

After marriage, Sophia enjoyed sweet life as a mafia wife. Until she learned Ethan's "sister" Isabella had leukemia. When her bone marrow matched, she donated without hesitation, thinking this proved their love.

Until tonight's party. A drunk lieutenant asked: "Boss, what's your biggest regret in life?"

Ethan was silent for a long moment: "Giving up the woman I loved."

When my mother-in-law and I went undercover on our own yacht, a woman in a bikini pointed at us and screamed, "Broke trash!"

She ordered the bodyguards to throw us into the sea.

"This is the VIP section! You freeloading scum snuck on board for free food and drinks—get lost!"

She pinched her nose, looking at my mother-in-law and me with complete disgust.

I said coldly, "This is a public area. We have the right to be here."

"Public area?" She burst into shrill laughter, dripping with arrogance. "Do you even know whose yacht this is? My boyfriend's! The most powerful man in this city!"

Victoria and I exchanged confused looks—this yacht, the Poseidon, was clearly being managed by my husband Alexander.

When did he become someone else's boyfriend?!

Five years ago, on my wedding day, my fiancé Vincent fucked my best friend in the bridal suite.

Five years later, I returned to New York with my husband—the most powerful Mafia boss in Naples. At Atelier Milano, my former best friend Bianca circled my custom gown like a vulture, pestering the staff about meeting the legendary Mrs. Salvatore.

She had no idea the woman she pitied as a pathetic nobody was the very person she was dying to impress.

Because of his grandfather's dying wish, Supreme Court Chief Justice Garrick Vance—the most powerful beast-shifter in the city—was forced to marry me, a human court clerk who had secretly loved him for years.

For six years we pretended to be strangers at work while he remained ice-cold toward me and our daughter Wren at home. When his celebrity ex-girlfriend Seraphina returned from overseas, I watched him come alive for another woman—attending her parties, rushing to her side at midnight.

Meanwhile, our five-year-old daughter waited every night for a father who never came home.

The day Wren nearly died from his careless gift, I finally signed the mate bond dissolution papers.

This time, he's lost us forever.

I hid in shadows for six years while my vampire husband played duke with his mistress.

Lucian kept our marriage secret, called our daughter "the half-blood bastard," and rushed to comfort Seraphina's twisted ankle while five-year-old Vanessa nearly died from silver poisoning.

His precious lover had "gifted" my child deadly perfume. While I held my convulsing daughter, he was cutting cake with his real family.

So I handed him divorce papers during his next dramatic rescue mission. Fool signed without reading—too busy playing hero to notice he just legally abandoned his wife and child.

Now the mighty vampire Duke burns under holy sunlight, chasing us to territories his undead flesh can't survive.

Begging on scorched pavement for a second chance he'll never get.

At the Academy's Beast Hunt Competition, I killed a high-tier Shadow Wraith and carved out its core.

My sister Seraphine stole it and claimed first place.

That core eased the brutal dragon prince Draven's chronic migraines. He demanded to marry the mage who presented it.

My fiancé Kelvin soul-bound himself to Seraphine overnight to "save" her. Done deal.

Someone had to fulfill the dragon marriage contract. That someone was me.

Seraphine draped herself over Kelvin, smirking. "Sister, your fiancé's MINE now. Draven arrives in three days—better find some random dragon to marry, or he'll tear you apart."

I looked at her smug face and smiled slowly.

"What makes you think I won't marry him?"

Three years ago, I nearly died giving birth to my son.

My husband Elias wasn't by my side—he was outside, ready to rip my baby from my arms and hand him to his dead brother's widow.

"We owe her this."

As I screamed and bled, Elias made his decree: "Aria stays away from the boy. She comes near him, she gets the silver whip."

They gave my son to Vivienne. I wasn't even allowed to see his face.

For three years, I tried everything to reach him.

Scaled walls—got twenty-three scars across my back. Snuck in as a maid—starved for seven days. Crashed his third birthday—thrown in ice water until I couldn't feel my legs.

Every time, worse punishment. Elias started looking at me like I'd lost my mind.

Then yesterday, fire ripped through the house. Flames swallowed the nursery.

Everyone screamed, including Vivienne—but she didn't move.

Only I ran in.

I pulled Asher out, barely breathing.

When he woke up, he shoved me away and clung to Vivienne, sobbing: "Mommy! She's here again! Make her GO! You said she'd leave if I was good!"

Three years of lies had erased me completely.

I dropped to my knees, voice breaking: "Call me 'Mom' just once. Then I'll disappear forever."

My fiancé was going to humiliate me at our own wedding.

I know because I heard him think it.

I'm Isabella Rossi — mafia heiress, future bride to Lorenzo Falcone, the golden boy of New York's underworld. Our marriage was supposed to unite two empires.

I also have a secret. I can read minds. But only when people want to use me, hurt me, or destroy me.

Lorenzo's thoughts had been silent for three years. I thought that meant he loved me.

The night before the wedding, I finally heard him. The mistress he'd planted in the crowd. The fake pregnancy reveal. The plan to humiliate me at the altar so he could play the victim — and steal my family's power in the chaos.

To marry Damian Thorne, I almost died thirteen times.

Over three years, I planned twelve weddings. Each one left me bleeding.

The first time: a runaway truck crashed into the bridal boutique, crushing my right leg.

The second time: the church ceiling collapsed during rehearsal, leaving me broken and bloodied.

The third time: poisoned champagne at the reception nearly killed me as I foamed at the mouth.

...

Manhattan's elite whispered that I was cursed.

But I still loved him desperately.

Until the thirteenth time. That bloody rainy night, three thugs cornered me in an alley and stabbed me seven times—two to the chest, three to the abdomen, two to the back. I lay dying in my own blood, yet somehow survived.

After I healed, I accidentally overheard Damian talking to his assistant.

"Mr. Thorne, she almost really died this time... Maybe we should stop? If your grandfather finds out..."

"We can't stop," Damian said wearily. "Her father saved my life. Grandfather is hell-bent on me marrying her. But DAMN IT, I love Selena, not her."

"As long as she won't give up, these accidents have to continue until she gets the message and leaves on her own."

I trembled as I touched the bandages covering my wounds, tears falling silently.

All these years, the man I desperately loved had been meticulously planning my death.

But he didn't know that this time, he really wouldn't have to marry me anymore.

My parents and twin sister faked their own deaths so she could steal my college acceptance.

I believed it. Sobbed until I couldn't breathe when the cops showed me photos of the burnt yacht. Thought my words—"I hope you all die"—had somehow made it happen.

Two weeks later, I found my sister's backup Instagram: "Finally ditched the boring sister! Bahamas is paradise 🏖"

Something inside me snapped.

Wanna play dead? Stay dead.

I took their death certificates. Canceled their social security numbers. Drained every joint account—every last cent. Sold the house to John, the kind of guy even cops don't mess with.

One month later, they came home tanned and loaded with designer bags, expecting to find me broken on the streets.

What greeted them instead were cold gun barrels pointed at their heads.

My boyfriend pulled off a drone-sky proposal that lit up the entire city.
Crowds cheered, “Congratulations to Mr. Gunson and Mrs. Gunson—at last, true lovers become family.”
But the woman curled in his arms was his secretary.
The “me” in their mouths had long since turned to white bones beneath a mound of earth.

Eighty-eight times.
That was how many times I had put on a white dress, or packed my ID, heading to the registry office to marry Harrison Churchill. And eighty-eight times, I ended up in an ambulance.
The first time, it was a street drive-by. A bullet tore through my shoulder just two blocks from City Hall.
The fifteenth time, a car bomb shattered three of my ribs.
The forty-second time, a steel frame plummeted from a construction site, cracking my skull.
......And this time?
The eighty-eighth time. A massive cargo container "accidentally" slipped from a crane at the docks, crushing my car.
Maybe, it’s time to say goodbye.

When her mate, Rollins Lancaster, the star of the college hockey team and the alpha heir of Crescent Moon Pack publicly rejects her for the school’s golden cheerleader, the heartbreak was enough to destroy her wolf. But fate wasn’t done with Piper yet as that same night, she found herself in bed with Archie Quinn, Alpha heir of the Frostfang Pack and her second chance mate. As hockey rivalries between Rollins and Archie explode into off and on ice battles, secrets buried under years of silence start to surface. Piper was forced to choose between love and vengeance, but the deeper she digs, the more dangerous the truth becomes.

Camilla Stewart never thought that it would be a disastrous one-night stand for her. Her virginity was forcibly snatched away by Tristan Drayson, a heartbroken billionaire CEO who was betrayed by his fiance, the Japanese model Ayana.
Tristan tries to make amends by paying Camilla as much money as she wants. The condition was that Camilla had to leave New York as soon as possible.
"Mr. Tristan! I beg of you, I-I need the money right now. You tell me anything this time I won't refuse, as long as you give me the money you promised."
"Really? You're not going back on your word again?" Tristan challenges Camilla. Camilla lowered her head and nodded slowly, with the burden of shame already mounting.
"Then serve me one more time tonight. If you can satisfy me tonight, I'll pay you double the amount I promised."
How will Camilla handle her accidental pregnancy after signing the contract with Tristan? The presence of billionaire heir William is saving her but Tristan’s show-up make their triangle love more complicated than expected.
How will Camilla choose between her entangled relationship with two billionaires?

My brother ripped out my S-Class Sword Bone and shoved it into his own chest, then stuffed his trash-tier talent, [Shepherd], right into mine.

My fiancée cuddled up in his arms, while my biological father expressionlessly threw me into a chaotic spatial anomaly.
They thought I would rot in that alternate dimension. Little did they know, the trash talent [Shepherd] harbored a hidden evolution: [Outer God Shepherd]. A talent perfectly tailored to enslave the various outer-god monstrosities lurking within the void...

Seven days later, surfing atop a hundred-meter-long Demonic God Train, I smashed backward through a skyscraper. I punched my cheating fiancée, kicked my scumbag father, and pierced my brother’s chest with a single bare hand, ripping out that glowing Sword Bone along with his flesh and sinew.

"Time to pay the interest on the bone you borrowed."

"I didn’t drug your drink," I said, my voice shaking in the dark.

"Liar," he spat. "You're just like your precious Stewart family. Deception runs in your blood, doesn't it?"

"Believe what you want," I fired back, lifting my chin. "I'm done with all of this. Done with you. I’m not going back anymore!"

His eyes narrowed dangerously in an instant , and he stepped closer, backing me against the wall until I could feel his breath on my face.

"Go ahead and leave," he growled. "But I'll always find you Elena. You're mine."


Elena, married to Reginald through her parents' ruthless machinations, naively believed she could wait for true love, only to be met with his betrayal with his first love Vivian.

Reginald, the ruthless heir to the Vanderbilt empire, thought he could control everything. Until Elena decided on divorce and disappeared, his control twisted into something he couldn't believe.

Five years later, Elena returns with twins in tow, and a bombshell revelation stuns everyone - she is the mysterious CEO of the Phoenix Group, rising from nothing to Vanderbilt's top rival in just two years.

With Reginald claiming her as his and the twins revealed as his, Elena must decide: give in to him or keep fighting for her freedom.

Pedro Hernandez spent seven years away from Los Angeles and after the death of his father, Maxwell Hernandez, he can finally return home. With Max's death, Pedro feels relief and freedom, after living a lonely life, trapped in Madrid, a city he hated, far from the people he loved. However, everything he knew is completely different and now he must adapt to the city again while taking on the responsibility of being the CEO of his father's company, something Max considered "The Hernandez Empire". His reunion with old acquaintances after so many years may bring back memories. Pedro faces a reality check when he meets Adrielle, his old girlfriend, someone he was forced to leave behind, married to Leonard Williams, a mysterious man who could threaten the stable life of the Hernandez family. Torn apart by anger, resentment and hurt feelings, Pedro is burdened with yet another conflict: Leonard is not only his love rival, but also the heir to the estate left by Max. The tension and anger grow with each passing moment, as Pedro tries to deal with Leonard, take over the company and make up for the years stolen from him. Pedro is no longer the same man who left Los Angeles seven years ago, there is resentment and anger surrounding his heart. With Max's death, he has a second chance to live alongside the people he loves, but he still wants answers to all the evil caused by his father. Is Pedro really willing to discover all of Max's secrets? How many tears can love endure?

"We want to see the virgin's breasts!" They shouted and ripped off my top, leaving me in nothing but my underwear.
Everyone laughed at me, but I can't do anything.
I couldn't speak.
"She seems to have a nice ass ...... " the man said.
He propped me up on a table and put my hands behind my back, then turned me over and lifted my skirt, exposing my ass. I gasped and tried to move, but he spanked me.
"How about we start with a hundred dollars? Any more, and you can check if she's a virgin...... " he said while holding me there.
"One hundred dollars!" I felt a hand rubbing my thighs and spread my legs.
But a voice boomed across the room.
"Five thousand dollars ...... Get your fucking hands off of her." An alpha voice rang out, and everyone fell silent.
" The deaf virgin is sold to the Alpha over there for five thousand dollars!"


The pack had always hated Mildred for not having a wolf.
The future alpha of the pack, her mate, immediately rejected her.
However, shortly after she escaped, she was kidnapped. She realized that her mate had sold her to the human trafficking mafia.
There, she met her second mate ...... He bought her. He was an Alpha who had suffered for years without his mate, which turned him into a violent and ruthless man.
Just when Mildred thought she had a chance to be happy, her first mate appeared again, jealous and demanding that Mildred become his wife.
Now Mildred was between two mates from rival packs, and she seemed to have a power to win the war.

Walking in on her husband with her own sister should have destroyed her. But Steffy doesn't fall apart-she slaps him and walks out.
What does break her is the DNA test her sister waves in her face. Not a Willson. Not their blood. Not their daughter.
Steffy has lived twenty-seven years in a family that may not be hers, while her sister claws for an inheritance she believes is rightfully hers alone.
But the deeper Steffy digs into the truth of who she really is, the more the wrong questions start getting answered.
Because if that DNA test was wrong about her... then who in this family is actually who they claim to be?