6955 Book(s) Related to The life I wished for

My family's company went bankrupt, and my father was critically ill.

I dropped out of school and worked multiple jobs every day.

Debt collectors beat me and broke my ribs, but I couldn't afford painkillers.

Every penny I earned went to expensive medicine, all to save my father.

Until I saw my father, who should have been bedridden on oxygen, holding a champagne glass at a hotel banquet hall.

His words pierced through, "Five years, the punishment she earned."

The bankruptcy was fiction. The illness, theater.

All orchestrated because his stepdaughter suffered from depression, and I was her entertainment.

When the doctor finally spoke to me, "Days. You have only days."

I laughed.

The dying one had never been my father.

It had always been me.

Selene thought she'd found true love with Alexander Morrison. She was WRONG—she was just a stand-in for Jessa, the woman he really wanted.

When Alexander and his twin brother Adrian's yacht exploded in the Gulf of Mexico, Alexander came home with Adrian's ashes, claiming to BE Adrian. His goal? To steal Adrian's wife Jessa—the woman he'd always loved.

Selene knew instantly he was lying, but when she told everyone, no one believed her. Alexander called her "crazy from trauma" and locked her away in a mental facility. She was PREGNANT.

They drugged her daily. After she gave birth, Alexander told her the baby died. She broke completely.

Three years later, dying in that white hell, Selene heard Alexander's final confession:

"I always loved Jessa. Adrian just got to her first. YOU? You were just her replacement."

"The kid's alive. I gave him to Jessa. He calls her Mom now."

Selene died full of rage—then woke up reborn, back to the moment Alexander walked in with that urn.

This time, she'd expose his lies and make him PAY.

Lysander’s ex-girlfriend, Evangeline, suggested a hiking trip. Out of obligation to me as his fiancée, he brought me along.
We got lost in the woods and trespassed onto the territory of his half-brother, Orion.
When Orion pointed a gun at us and forced him to choose—
In my past life, he chose me.
As a result, Evangeline was sold to a rival, Matthias, and was tortured to death. I spent the rest of my life bearing the full weight of Lysander’s hatred.
In the third year of our marriage, I lay in a hospital bed after a miscarriage. He stood coldly beside me and said, "Now you know how it feels to lose the love of your life."
Reborn into this life, as Orion’s gun points at me and Evangeline once again, I make the choice for him.
I’m leaving the chance to survive to his true love.

For six years, I wore Pack silver. I sold my blood. I scrubbed silver out of Pack den floors. I slept on a basement floor — all to pay off my mate's Pack debt and buy my brother's wolfsbane antidote.
Today, with the receipt finally signed, my brother looked at me and said:
"Seren, I was never poisoned. Our parents aren't dead either. The Rogue raid six years ago — I arranged it. The only wolf hurt that night was you."
My mate stepped up behind him: "I never lost my Pack rank either. I've been at the estate the whole time."
Then my parents — the ones I'd buried seven years ago — walked through the door.
The Pack physician had given me forty-eight hours left to live.
They were going to remember every single one.

For three years, I genuinely believed I was the luckiest woman in the world.

Until I hit play on that video.

The moment the screen lit up, my perfect reality shattered into a million jagged pieces.

The woman writhing on the bed was Amanda—the sweet, innocent girl we had both grown up with.

And the hand tracing the curve of her bare skin? It wore the platinum wedding band I had personally slipped onto Louis’s finger.

"I missed you so much..."

"You drive me fucking crazy, baby..."

Hearing my own husband's signature sweet nothings whispered to my childhood best friend gutted me completely.

Our entire social circle constantly praised us as the golden couple. But beneath the glossy surface, who could have guessed this flawless marriage was built on a mountain of sick lies?

Well, if Louis was such a brilliant actor, I figured it was time to give him a show of my own.

I was going to rip off his mask and show the entire world exactly what kind of monster my "perfect husband" truly was.

I was forced by my father to fulfill an arranged engagement I'd never met face-to-face.

Pushing open the private room door, I found my fiancé Tristan celebrating his secretary Clara's birthday.

"Security! Get this beggar out of here!" Clara screamed, pointing at me.

When I revealed my identity, Tristan sneered coldly: "What bullshit engagement? I would never marry a woman like you."

Clara poured red wine over my head: "Kneel down and lick it clean!"

When I fought back, Tristan exploded in rage: "How dare you touch my woman? Hold her down!"

Four bodyguards pinned me down as Clara started a live stream: "Let everyone see this delusional bitch who doesn't know her place!"

They tore at my clothes while Tristan watched coldly, even urging them on: "Hurry up, let everyone see her true face."

Just as I was about to be completely humiliated, the door suddenly burst open—

"Do you have any idea whose daughter you're humiliating?

Five years in hell, my beloved and best friend joined hands to push me into the abyss. The savior I trusted was actually a deadly fraud. Reborn from despair, Vito came through the light. I tore apart the scumbag and the evil woman, settled all debts, broke free from the shadow, stepped into the light, and lived the rest of my life only for myself.

The day my all-powerful wife personally handed me over to the mob's basement, she was shielding my identical twin brother, furiously accusing me of destroying his ability to carry on the family line.
To compensate for my brother's "trauma," my parents stood by and did nothing. Using her influence, my wife pressured me to take his place at a black-market clinic, testing a lethal drug.
They thought I was just going to suffer some physical hardship, that after enduring these two weeks, everything would be happily resolved.
But they didn't know I had already been poisoned by my brother. I was dying.
I died in agony on the cold operating table. As my body was being gnawed and rotted by rats, they were happily vacationing by the sea.
Only when the lies were exposed did my wife kick down the hidden door. Holding my maggot-infested, decaying flesh, she wept until she vomited blood, then went mad and swallowed a bullet. My parents watched their family shattered and wept on their knees.

One of my employees went online and dragged me, claiming I'm making them sacrifice their health for a paycheck and forcing everyone to work over Thanksgiving.

Here's what actually happened. My company gives nine days off for Thanksgiving. Volunteer to work overtime, get triple pay, with a $500 daily meal stipend and a $5,000 bonus. No one gets penalized for not working.

The whole internet's tearing into me for making employees sell their lives for cash. So I give her exactly what she wants and send out a company-wide notice:

To protect employee mental health, the building gets locked and the power gets cut over Thanksgiving. No one is allowed to work for any reason. Anyone who does gets fired.

The minute that email goes out, the employees who were counting on overtime to pay their mortgages lose it. Now they're all crowded outside the building, begging me to open the doors.

My daughter died on her fifth birthday.
Her first real wish—the first one she was old enough to make herself—was to go to the beach with Daddy.
Gideon promised he would take her.
She waited for him all day. She was still asking for him when she took her last breath.
He never came.
I brought her ashes to the beach she'd always dreamed of. Let her finally see the ocean.
That's when I heard it—a woman's moan, low and breathy, coming from behind the rocks.
Then his voice. Then his name on her lips.
"Between me and Lily, who do you love more?"
"You. Obviously."
He was fucking his mistress on our daughter's dream beach—while I stood there holding her ashes.
When I finally confronted them, I didn't get an apology. I got a slap across the face.
And when his mistress caught my eye and smiled, I realized something.
She knew exactly when my daughter would die.

The night her sister steals her fiancé, Calista makes a bold, reckless move:
seduce her ex's father, marry into the family-and make them kneel and call her "Mom."
But when she wakes up, it's not her ex's father beside her.
It's Lancelot.
A construction worker by appearance-
in truth, a powerful CEO and the shadowy head of a family no one dares to cross.
"You seduced me," he says, pinning her to the wall. "Now you're mine."
But Calista isn't just a scorned socialite with a revenge plan.
Behind her quiet retreat from high society hides:
the true heiress of the richest family,
a world-class hacker,
a legendary thief,
and a gaming champion feared across continents.
They clash. They scheme.
But the more they fight, the harder they fall.

I felt my heart tighten in my chest as I watched with horror, my fiancé and my best friend having sex in the hotel. They were so engrossed and couldn’t even care less that they were half naked and anyone who cared, could see them from the glass wall of the building’s fourth floor. Sonia was pressed to the wall while Dennis worked her insides from behind. I couldn’t hear her moans but with every second that I imagined it, my heart sank the more.
Tears flooded my face as I flashed into the last two years of my life when I met Dennis. He was everything I wanted and more. Tall, handsome, broad shoulders and chest, I couldn’t stop drooling as he pulled me into a hug. For a moment there, my heart forgot how to beat, and the moment he smiled and introduced himself, I knew I was going to marry him. I had fallen hard in love with him.
Freya decided to try love again after several heartbreaks, she thought Dennis was different but reality dawned on her when she caught him cheating with her best friend, Sonia, the same person who matchmade them in the first place.
Actually, Dennis wasn’t cheating on her with Sonia, he was cheating on Sonia with her! The two have been dating over five years, and she never knew. She was the third wheel in their relationship…
What will happen now that Freya has found out? Find out in the story!

When her father fled with his mistress, leaving crushing debts behind, Freya Gilbert had nowhere to turn. Crashing Alpha Jonas's welcome ceremony in desperation, she never expected to find her fated mate there. But it wasn't gentle Jonas who made her wolf howl "mate." It was the dangerous, devastatingly powerful Niklaus Lockwood.
One scorching night of passion sealed her fate.
Niklaus already had his perfect chosen mate, the elegant Rebekah. Unwilling to abandon his plans, he offered Freya a cold business deal: be his contract Luna for three years, play the perfect wife in public, and he'd clear her debts. When their arrangement expired, she'd accept his rejection and disappear quietly.
Freya thought she could survive a loveless marriage. She was wrong.
Three years later, she's fallen hopelessly for the Alpha who sees her as nothing more than a gold-digging Omega. On their anniversary night, the very day their contract expires, Niklaus chooses Rebekah.
The message couldn't be clearer.
But when Freya files for divorce and moves out first, Niklaus's carefully controlled world shatters. The mate bond he's suppressed for years, and he never expected his obedient, compliant wife to actually leave him.
"I, Freya Gilbert, reject you, Niklaus Lockwood."
The words that should have set them both free only ignite a fire that threatens to consume them both.
Can a love born from a business contract survive the flames of pride and betrayal? Or will the most powerful Alpha in the territory lose his true mate because he was too blind to see what was right in front of him?
When the contract ends, the real battle for love begins.

I was reborn one year before my husband fell in love with another woman. This time, I successfully took her place and became the idealized figure, the one admired and longed for by my husband and her other suitors.

I dragged Theodore out of the car seconds before it exploded. Ever since that day, my fingers have never been the same—a permanent injury I'll carry for life.
Three years into our marriage, Scarlett came back. His foster sister. The one he'd secretly loved all along.
He indulged her every whim. Let her wear my wedding ring. Move into our marital home. Even kiss him in public.
Everyone mocked me—said I was clinging to the title of "wife" and refused to let go. Scarlett told me to my face to get out.
That day, Theodore abandoned me on the highway.
That was when I finally gave up on him completely.
I left the divorce papers behind and vanished.
Theodore found the journal I'd left. He went crazy searching for me all over the world. When he finally found me, he dropped to his knees, eyes red with desperation.
"Don't leave. You're the one I've always loved."
I smiled and took my new boyfriend's hand.
"Too bad. I don't love you anymore."

"Aspen" I hear someone whisper from faraway. I ignore it and just pass it off as the wind since I left my window open last night.

"Aspen" I hear again except it's louder this time. I ignore it again.

A couple of minutes later a sweet smell fills my nostrils. It reminds me of pineapples and vanilla.

"If you don't wake up, I'm going to burn your favorite book" I hear a familiar voice say which causes my eyes to snap open as I jolt up in bed so that I'm facing my best friend

"I don't know who moved first. But suddenly my mouth was on his and I was kissing him like I was oxygen and he'd been drowning...I didn't even know his name."
I'm Harper, and my life exploded the day I caught my husband with my best friend.
He handed me divorce papers like I was disposable.
So I ran to LA, got drunk, and let a stranger make me forget I was ever a wife.
One night. No names. No rules.
Just the kind of heat that sears itself into your bones.
I thought I escaped it when I slipped out of his bed before sunrise.
I was wrong.
Because at my next job interview, he's sitting across from me, the stranger from that night.
Hardin Wolfe. Billionaire. Cold. Dangerous.
"I've been searching for you," he tells me, and my entire body remembers him.
I need this job to rebuild my life.
I need revenge on the people who destroyed me.
But working for Hardin means late nights, closed doors, one hotel room on business trips...and a man who doesn't understand the word no when it comes to me.
I try to keep my distance.
He gets closer.
Too close.
Until one night on a work trip, I stop fighting it—and everything between us ignites again.
Then I miss my period. The baby could be his. Or it could be my ex-husband's from our final, toxic goodbye.
Now my ex wants me back. Hardin is hiding a secret that could break me all over again. And I'm carrying a child who might belong to the wrong man.
Revenge tastes sweet. Desire burns deep. And loving either of them might destroy me.

“You don’t know Adrian Kane,” the message read.

“And if you stay married to him… you might not survive long enough to find out. You haven't seen the worst of him yet.”

Sold into a marriage with the powerful and mysterious billionaire Adrian Kane to save her family's failing wealth, Evelyn is left to handle being a nobody at home and a decorative wife in public.

Behind Adrian façade, lies a darkness no one dares question… and secrets capable of destroying far more than Evelyn’s fragile freedom.

Just as she begins to accept her fate, the past she never truly let go of returns...her first love. The man who once promised her a future now stands before her again, offering the life she thought she had lost forever.

Caught between the dangerous husband she barely understands and the love she never stopped feeling, Evelyn is forced to choose.
But as Adrian’s secrets begin to surface, one terrifying truth becomes impossible to ignore...

Did she marry a billionaire…

or a criminal wearing his mask?

And when the truth finally comes out, will Evelyn stay with the man she married…

or run back to the man she once loved?

“Let’s get a divorce.”
After three years of marriage, my husband’s first love came back. With his own lips, he ended our three-year mating bond.
Just like that, I was thrown away and became the pack’s favorite joke—the unmarked, unacknowledged “temporary mate.”
I hid the fact that I was already carrying his pup and disappeared from his world completely. I thought that as long as I stepped aside, he and his fated mate would finally get the happiness they wanted.
I never imagined that when we met again, his eyes would be bloodshot as he demanded:
“Whose child is this?”
It was only later that I found out: from the moment I vanished, that aloof, untouchable Alpha went completely off the rails, tearing through every pack’s territory, searching for me like a madman.

The Mass Awakening resulted in transforming the entire Earth into a server of a cosmic game. Which was taking place on October 27, 2026. Even as humanity was scrambling to be Level 1 Warriors and Mages, Alex, a burnt-out cybersecurity expert that was based in Lagos, was witnessing something different: The Source Code.

The Twist:
Alex is presented with the [Admin Interface] aka system screen, which is a glitched class that enables him to see the reality in the form of Python and C++ lines. He does not go out and hunt monsters to get XP; instead he debugs them. He does not domesticate animals; but instead he brings them together.

Alex combines organic flesh and salvaged technology to produce Chimeras- monstrosities of metal and magic that do not obey the rules of the System. A rat is turned into a surveillance drone. And then A raptor becomes a railgun. Even A dragon is transformed into something worse.

"Your Game is broken. And I am the Admin.”

I loved Callum Crane for five years. He said I didn't fit. Then he proposed — to my sister.
The same night, his brother called me with the most insane idea I've ever heard: marry him instead. Same day. Same venue. Right across the hall from my ex and my sister's ceremony.
I said yes. Not because I loved Emrys Crane. Because I'd rather set the whole thing on fire than sit in a pew and watch.
Here's the thing about revenge marriages, though. They're supposed to be fake.
Nobody told Emrys.
The man had a wrench set in his truck that only fit my grandmother's machine — bought years before I ever spoke to him. He'd been sneaking looks through my workshop window so often the stone wore down. He fixed my motorcycle three times and never mentioned it. He remembered that I stared at a piece of almond brittle for ten seconds once, and bought it for me weeks later.
Seven years. He'd been in love with me for seven years. Said nothing. Did everything.
And Callum? The man who told me I didn't fit?
He showed up at my orchard with an apology and a folder full of evidence against my sister, begging for a second chance.
I looked him in the eye and said: "Too late. Wrong harvest."
He tried five more times. It only got worse for him.

My daughter was taken by rogues, and my husband didn't care.

But when his childhood friend went missing in another attack, he spared no expense searching for her.

I searched for our daughter alone. When I died in the wilderness, I'd been looking for fifty years.

As I bled out that day, I had only one thought—I'm sorry, Lily. I'm so sorry I couldn't find you.

Then I opened my eyes and found myself fifty years in the past, the night before the nightmare began.

I came across a viral local post while scrolling through my phone.

LIVE: My fiancée is cheating on me. I’m in her house right now. Should I end her for good?

When I tapped into the post, what I read made the blood in my veins turn to ice in an instant.

I put a monitoring app on her phone. I’ve been listening for almost two weeks, and every single day she’s on the line with some random guy, flirting and talking dirty. She says yes to marrying me to my face, but she’s been cuckolding me behind my back. Tell me, bros—does this bitch deserve to die?

The comment section below had completely spiraled out of control. Hundreds of replies were all outright egging him on, not a single person telling him to stop. Every line oozed with the vicious glee of people who lived for drama and cared nothing for the consequences.

Hell yeah she does. You got cucked this hard, why keep her around?
Bro, stop all talk and no action. Go live, we’ll send you gifts. Rape her first, then kill her if you’ve got the balls.
You in Haicheng? Drop the address. Me and the boys will come over and help you out. My fists are itching for a fight anyway.
Pfft, and I thought you were tough. You’re already in her house and still dragging your feet? I bet you don’t even have the guts to kill a dog.

My fingers were shaking violently. Driven by a sick, twisting dread, I tapped into the poster’s profile—and with just one glance, every hair on my body stood on end.

This account belonged to Xiao Ming, the blind date my relatives had forced on me when I went home for the Lunar New Year.

His entire profile was filled with posts about me, spanning a full two weeks, starting the very day we’d met for that blind date.

He’d taken secret photos of me, paired with captions full of disgusting, delusional ramblings:

My fiancée went on a date with me today. She wore a white blouse with the neckline open so low, it’s obvious she was trying to seduce me.
She told me she works the front desk at a hotel. That’s her way of hinting I should take her to a room for the night. All women say one thing and mean another.
She says she has a boyfriend, but it’s just playing hard to get. She’s been dying to marry me this whole time.

But I’d said it loud and clear, right in front of the matchmaker, on the very day of that blind date: I’d been in a committed relationship with my boyfriend for three years.

That blind date was nothing more than a way to appease my family. I’d been polite but distant the entire time, and I hadn’t even accepted a single glass of water from him.

As for that nonsense about a hotel room? It was complete and utter garbage. I’d only casually mentioned that my job was working the front desk at a hotel, nothing more.

Just as a bone-deep chill washed over me, the post refreshed. A new line had been added to the main post, timestamped just three seconds earlier:

Truth is, I’m hiding in her house right now. She’s lying in bed scrolling through her phone, and she has no idea she’s already dead meat.

The very second that line finished loading, a clear, soft rustle of fabric came from the wardrobe right behind me.

I died the day I caught my fiancé cheating.

I had walked in on my cousin and my fiancé, completely naked in the backseat of a brand-new Porsche. It was a car bought with stolen money—embezzled from the estate of my recently deceased grandmother, Margaret.

Panic had set in the moment I discovered them. To stop me from calling the cops, he slammed his foot on the gas.

As a pool of warm blood spread beneath my head, I heard him lying to the first responders: "She’s mentally unstable. She threw herself right in front of the car."

I died exactly like that—labeled a hysterical, suicidal woman.

But just when I thought it was all over, my eyes snapped open.

The hot blood that had just blurred my vision, the shattering agony in my bones—it was all gone.

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.

Everyone in this city knows that the king of the underworld, my husband Vincent, is crazy about me.

Three years ago, when that bullet tore through my abdomen, it took away my chance of ever being a mother. He held my blood-soaked body and swore to God he'd make the shooter's entire family pay. A month later, that family was wiped off the map in this city. No one dares speak their name anymore.

He sat by my hospital bed, holding my hand. "I don't need kids. I only need you."

I believed him.

Until six months ago, when his brother died in an accident, leaving behind his wife Serena. The family pressure came like a tidal wave. An heir. A bloodline. That's all they cared about. And that woman became everyone's golden ticket to keeping the Caruso name alive.

That's when my husband stopped coming home at night. Every night, I hear them through the wall. Sounds that used to be mine.

But today, the doctor told me my body is healing. The chances are slim, but there's hope.

I clutch the medical report and rush home, imagining Vincent's face when he sees the results. Maybe everything can go back to how it was. Maybe he'll realize he doesn't need her.

Until I stand outside our mansion and hear laughter pouring out.

"Serena's pregnant! Can you believe it? The family finally has an heir!"

"Finally. The family's saved."

The biggest mistake of my life was falling in love with my childhood best friend, Cole Blackwood.

I grew up with Cole. He was my childhood best friend. When my mom died in a car accident in high school, his mother Lillian, my mom's best friend, saw that my stepmother didn't like me and took me in. She arranged our engagement. Cole protected me from bullies in high school. I fell for him. We secretly married at eighteen.

Shortly after the wedding, he was kidnapped. That's when everything fell apart. I threw myself off a cliff to draw the kidnappers away and save him. I was in a coma for three months. But when I came back to him, weak and broken, he thought some woman named Sophia Vanderbilt had saved him instead. He started hating me for "abandoning him" and grew cold. I tried to explain. He only believed what Sophia told him. My words meant nothing. 

Cole wanted to divorce me, but his parents refused to allow it. I refused too. Sophia drugged him to get pregnant and trap him into marriage, but he stumbled into the wrong room. He slept with me instead. I got pregnant. She faked videos to make him think they'd been together. She forged evidence that I'd cheated. He wouldn't listen to a word I said. 

Then we were both kidnapped and held hostage on a rooftop. Cole chose to save Sophia. I fell. I lost the baby. After Sophia was rescued, she went to the hospital for a checkup. They found leukemia. She needed a bone marrow transplant. I was the only match, but after everything, my body was too weak. Cole used the "debt" I owed his family to force me to donate. 

I refused. Sophia "died." Cole locked me in a psychiatric hospital and tortured me until I died. 

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day he demanded my bone marrow. This time, looking at his desperate eyes, I said yes and decided to divorce him and leave him for good.

In the apocalyptic freeze, temperatures plummeted to seventy below zero. The earth was encased in ice, and ice beasts roamed everywhere.

I risked my life to scavenge for food, covered in wounds, enduring cold and hunger, leaving all our meager supplies for my parents and brother.

I thought blood was thicker than water, that all the suffering and hardship was worth it.

But I never imagined that when our resources ran out, the family I'd protected with my life would reveal their true beastly nature. They ambushed and knocked me unconscious, tied me to an ice pillar, planning to use me as food rations—to eat me alive.

At the moment of near death, the ice jade my grandfather left me suddenly shattered. I awakened top-tier ice abilities, commanding frost and snow, controlling the extreme cold.

My kindness had been frozen to death by the bitter cold. Family meant nothing.

Those who betrayed me, deceived me, and tried to eat me—I wouldn't spare a single one.

When they shoved me into the flames, I fought through the blinding pain to call my brother, Ethan Bennett. Fire licked at my skin, twisting my vision, but the call finally went through.

"What is it now?" He sounded distracted, like he was checking off a guest list.

"Ethan, please, help—" My voice was shattered, choked by the searing heat.

"Can't you just give it a rest for one single day?" he snapped, cutting me off. "Selina and I are getting married this weekend. If you pull another stunt, I swear I'll—"

The call died right as the flames swallowed me whole.

Agony consumed every nerve before my eyes closed for good, his unfinished threat still echoing in my ears.

But the good news is, Ethan... you don't have to swear anymore. Because I was dead.

The alliance between the Human Empire and the Wolf Empire has stood for centuries. The treaty requires the Human Empire to send a princess to the Wolf Empire every so often, to become the Wolf King's mate and strengthen the bond between our kingdoms. Now, it's time to honor that pact again.

Father is old now, ready to step down. My sister and I have to choose.

In my past life, Adelaide chose the throne. She thought power meant she could do whatever she wanted. Within three years, the Human Empire crumbled in her hands. At home, she bled the people dry, filling her own coffers while they starved. Abroad, her arrogance drove away our allies. The Dwarven Empire, the Serpent Empire, they all cut ties. In the end, the surrounding kingdoms banded together and attacked. The Human Empire fell in the war. Our parents died by enemy blades, and Adelaide had to flee.

And me? I went to the Wolf Empire, just like the treaty said.

On the surface, I was the Wolf Queen, worshipped by every wolf, living in the grand Wolf Court, attending state banquets. In reality, I was his prisoner. Forced to run as prey in the hunting ritual, slapped to the ground in front of the council, shoved forward as a hostage when conflicts arose.

At one banquet, Adelaide appeared in front of me, gripping a dagger, madness burning in her eyes. "This is your fault! If you hadn't been so useless in the Wolf Empire, we wouldn't have lost everything!"

The blade sank into my chest. I collapsed in a pool of blood.

When I open my eyes again, I'm back in the throne room with Father watching us.

Adelaide barely hesitates before speaking up. "I'll go to the Wolf Empire. Let Brynn take the throne."

I smile.

Foolish Adelaide. She has no idea that beneath the Queen's crown lies nothing but chains and blood.

"You have two months to live." The doctor's death sentence was still ringing in my ears when I found the receipt in his pocket.

[Four Seasons Hotel. Romance Suite. Check-in: 3:00 PM.]

3:00 PM. The exact moment I was begging the doctor for painkillers, Alexander was in a hotel bed with another woman.

I looked at him, sleeping soundly beside me. I had loved this man for five years, sold everything to help him succeed. Now, in the final countdown of my life, he gave me the most fatal blow.

"I'm exhausted from meetings," he had lied, smelling of Santal 33 and another woman's sex.

I clenched the receipt until my nails dug into my flesh. I wouldn't tell him about the cancer.

I would use whatever time I had left to make him regret ever being born.

After being lost for ten years, I was finally brought home by my biological parents.
They stood in the cramped basement and asked me, "The family went bankrupt a month ago. You won't hold it against us for being poor, will you?"
Overcome with emotion, I hugged them tightly and shook my head fervently.
Later, my father was diagnosed with uremia and needed a large sum of money for surgery. To earn money, I worked three jobs a day, eventually collapsing from exhaustion and being diagnosed with a brain tumor. With no time for treatment, I rushed to deliver food orders.
Unexpectedly, I ran into my father—who should have been in the hospital undergoing dialysis—having booked an entire shopping mall to celebrate the adopted daughter's birthday. My mother, wearing an gorgeous gown I'd never seen before, smiled as she embraced the girl.
"Lily, our precious, Mommy and Daddy will give you everything you want."
My brother, who they said had died in an accident while searching for me, was dotingly putting a diamond necklace on the girl.
It turned out the family hadn't gone bankrupt at all—I just wasn't worthy.

After Nicholas got engaged, his assistant handed me a plane ticket.

"Leave. Don’t ever show your face in Silverlight City again."

"Otherwise, Mr. Jackson has more than enough ways to ruin you."

All those years I spent by his side, I was admired by everyone, living in the spotlight.

Yet when I finally left, I was reduced to a pitiful, laughable sight.

I said, "Fine."

But that very night, the flight plunged from over thirty thousand feet in the air.

Freya loved the wrong Alpha for eight years. She gave him her body, her loyalty, her soul—and in return, he kissed her with someone else's name. When she finally walked away, she believed she'd found peace—and love—in Silvano, the Alpha who saved her. But years later, on her birthday, silence greeted her again.
“Bella,” she whispered to her daughter, “did you forget Mommy’s birthday?”
“Not now, Mommy. I'm making a gift for Aunt Aurora. Daddy helped.”
The name landed like a wound reopening.
Freya once survived being ‘the other woman’. Now, fate flipped the roles—and the silence, late-night absences, and missed calls feel all too familiar. As betrayal knocks again, she must choose: bury herself in heartbreak once more—or rise, not for love, but for herself.
When even your mate forgets your worth, how many times must you walk away before you stop coming back?
This time—maybe for the last time—she won’t look back.

On the eve of the violin competition, I was dragged into the basement and tormented for three excruciating hours, my hands shattered by iron rods, rendering me incapable of ever playing again.

As I lay in the hospital awaiting emergency care, I discovered the truth: it was my own father who had hired the assassins to ruin me; it was my fiancé who deliberately delayed my surgery, aiming to leave me permanently disabled; and ultimately, it was my pampered sister, cherished by the entire family, who had set fire to gasoline with the intent to burn me alive.

Fifteen years ago, a sorcerer had proclaimed that my sister was the 'blessing' of the Winslow family, while I, through my very existence, was deemed a 'curse' that needed to be eradicated.

Due to this absurd prophecy, I became the target of my family's ambition to be rid of me.

They wished for my demise, yet I am determined to survive — to witness them pay the price for their choices today.

When my husband pushed the divorce papers in front of me for the hundredth time, demanding I sacrifice myself for my sister, I didn't cry or make a scene. I simply signed my name, willingly giving up the man I'd loved for eight years to Ivy.

A few days later, Ivy got drunk and drove into a state senator's only son during a street race, leaving him paralyzed from the waist down. Once again, I stepped forward to take the blame and bear all the consequences.
When they later suggested I donate my kidney to Ivy, I readily agreed.

Mom and Dad said I'd finally grown into a mature and responsible sister.

Even my cold husband stood by my hospital bed and, for the first time in so long, gently stroked my cheek. He whispered, "Don't be afraid. The surgery will be a success. When you recover, we'll go traveling."

But he didn't know that whether the surgery succeeded or not, I wouldn't be going anywhere with him.

Because I was already terminally ill, with little time left.

I was dying, but honestly? Death felt like mercy.

As a vampire, I should have been immortal. But at six years old, I'd made a deal with a demon, gambling my fate on "true love"—if three times I failed to win the heart of the one I loved, the demon would claim my soul.

Just when I thought death was certain, I got pregnant. Morag, the demon, showed rare mercy, promising to wait until I gave birth.

But at eight months, my husband sneered about removing the "bastard." My brother didn't even flinch as he sliced open my belly. My parents cursed that I deserved it—all to save my sister Lycia, who'd somehow "returned from the dead."

The day they cut my child out, not one tear. Not for me.

So why, after I died, were they all on their knees at my grave, sobbing?

On the morning before Christmas Eve, I was polishing my shoes in my apartment, preparing to meet my girlfriend Camilla's parents, who lived in the uptown, the next day to discuss marriage.
Through years of hard work, I finally bought a house in the city.
I suddenly had a splitting headache, and a blue system interface appeared on my retina, telling me that the sea level would rise by 8,000 meters in 24 hours and that a deep-sea mutated tide would submerge the world.
To survive, I must get 10 people to each transfer $ 5,000 to me before the countdown ends , and I will receive an asylum spot for each transfer I receive.

"Baby, lend me Stella for the movie."
When my fiancé Damon said this, I thought it was the most romantic thing ever. My guide dog starring in his Oscar-worthy film—what a perfect love story.
I'm Aria Sinclair, 26-year-old blind film producer with perfect pitch and endless money, but no eyes. So when he said "The press will go crazy for our story," I stupidly agreed.
Three weeks later, in the editing room:
01:47:23—Dull impact.
01:47:31—Familiar whimper.
01:47:35—Silence.
My perfect pitch never lies. That wasn't CGI—that was real impact. Worse, I knew that whimper. That was Stella, my guide dog, my eyes, my most loyal companion.
They killed her. For a goddamn trophy.
On premiere night, when Damon walked the red carpet with a strange German Shepherd, when I touched her paw and found no white star-shaped mark—
"This is not my dog!"
I broke down in front of hundreds of reporters.
"Honey, you're under too much stress," Damon said gently. "Maybe you need rest."
Whispers from the audience: "Poor blind girl..." "She really needs help..."
Just like that, I became the crazy one.
Abandoned by the world.
Betrayed by the man I loved most.
But they made one fatal mistake—they thought stealing my eyes would silence me.
Now it's time to let them hear what despair sounds like...
[Click to watch me destroy them both...]

My husband told me our daughter was brain-dead. He put a pen in my hand and told me to sign the organ donation form. He said it was the merciful thing to do.
I signed.
Then I watched her heart get cut out and transplanted into another child — his mistress's son.
He'd been planning it for months. The fake diagnosis, the doctor who happened to be his college girlfriend, the night his mother lured me away from the hospital so they could drug my little girl.
When I found out the truth, he killed me for it.
But somehow, I woke up back at that desk. Same pen. Same form. Same lying face waiting for my signature.
This time, I'm not signing. This time, they pay.

ADRIAN Cole had it all. Wealth, power, a beautiful wife, and a daughter who adored him. But one mistake… one affair… and one phone call from his mistress was enough to shatter the perfect life he thought he controlled.

When Amelia walked away, she didn’t just leave her husband behind, she carried a secret of her own, a secret that would change everything.

Now Adrian is left chasing shadows of the woman who once loved him, realizing too late that money and pride can’t heal the wounds of betrayal. But the road back to Amelia’s heart isn’t just blocked by her pain, it’s poisoned by the jealousy of her own sister, whose hidden hatred runs deeper than anyone could imagine.

Caught between regret, family betrayal, and the fight for the woman he once took for granted, Adrian must prove that his love is real this time. But what if Amelia’s forgiveness is the one thing he can never buy back?

A story of betrayal, heartbreak, and redemption. Will love survive when it’s already too late for sorry?

Blurb

My back was pressed against one of the bookshelves in his study, my legs raised against his hips as his fingers caressed my cunt. He moved slowly but fast enough to make me tremble with pleasure.

“You…you are my sister’s husband,” I managed to say, adjusting my ragged breath.

He pushed himself against me. “Ask me to stop and I will,” he whispered in my ear.

I pressed my lips together, unable to say a word, only moans escaping my mouth.


Alexandra Coleman is forced to work as a maid for her stepmother and sister as soon as her birth father dies. All her life she has been tortured and made to believe that her life meant nothing. Until one day when her stepsister Kara gets into an arranged marriage with a wealthy CEO.

Kara falls for him without knowing who he is, and he shares the same attraction. Now that she knows who he really is, will she be able to hide her emotions for him and work as a maid?

Or will their shared attraction draw them together?

"NEXT DOOR is full of completely unexpected twists—you will read it on the edge of your chair. It is Blake Pierce at his best! Another masterpiece of suspense and mystery. I highly recommend it to the permanent library of all readers that appreciate an excellent thriller, full of psychological suspense and with a completely unexpected ending. This is the first in what promises to be another excellent series. I can hardly wait to read the sequel."--Books and Movie Reviews, Roberto MattosA NEIGHBOR’S LIE (A Chloe Fine Mystery) is book #2 in a new psychological suspense series by bestselling author Blake Pierce, whose #1 bestseller Once Gone (Book #1) (a free download) has over 1,000 five-star reviews. FBI Violent Crimes Division Special Agent Chloe Fine, 27, still reeling from the secrets of her past, finds herself thrown into her first case: the murder of a nanny in a seemingly perfect suburban town.Immersed in a world of secrets, of unfaithful couples, of pretense and artifice, Chloe soon realizes that anyone—and everyone—may be guilty. Yet at the same time, with her own father still in jail, she must battle her own demons and unravel her own secrets, which threaten to bring her down before her own career even begins.An emotionally wrought psychological suspense with layered characters, small-town ambiance and heart-pounding suspense, A NEIGHBOR’S LIE is book #2 in a riveting new series that will leave you turning pages late into the night. Book #3 in the CHLOE FINE series will be available soon.

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.

"No... my baby!"

Juliana Wells weakly reached out, her fingers grasping at nothing as nurses whisked the blood-covered newborn away before she could even catch a glimpse.

Through the haze, she heard the midwife's urgent shout.

"The other baby has the cord wrapped around its neck! Heart rate's dropping! We need an emergency C-section now! Mrs. Sharp, you need to make a decision!"

But Ashley Sharp's response from outside the delivery room was ice-cold: "Don't bother. Get rid of her and that useless thing in her belly. The Sharp family only needs one heir."

Juliana's breath caught in her throat. She clutched the sheets beneath her with trembling hands, her voice barely a whisper. "...Why?"

A year ago, the Wells Group had been maliciously reported for tax evasion. Overnight, everything collapsed.
Her father, consumed by despair, had thrown himself from the company's rooftop. Her mother suffered a cerebral hemorrhage upon hearing the news and died before the ambulance arrived. Juliana hadn't even had time to grieve before creditors descended like wolves, eager to devour what little remained of the Wells family fortune.

That's when Ashley had appeared with an offer she couldn't refuse—carry a child via IVF for the Sharp family's comatose eldest son, critically injured in a car accident. Give them a son to continue the bloodline. In exchange, Ashley would eliminate all her enemies and clear the Wells family name.

Juliana had believed her. She'd gambled everything, endured ten months of pregnancy, suffered through excruciating labor. But from the very beginning, Ashley had never intended to keep her promise. What a carefully orchestrated trap. What a perfect betrayal. She and her unborn child were nothing but disposable tools.

This humiliation, this stolen child—Juliana would never forget.