1424 Book(s) Related to obsessed ceo throws himself at me novelhall

"And where the hell is the supposed assistant?"" He angrily asked.
"I'm here."" A soft voice answered shyly. There was something about the voice that was oddly familiar.
He was ready to fire the person until he turned around to find no one other than Shayan West, a woman he heavily despised.
Her heart was pounding in her chest loudly as she stared at him, it was him, standing in front of her after five years.
Everything was going great for Shayan until her new boss arrived. What happens when her new boss turns out to be no one other than Kel Adrios, the man who caused so much drama in her life. Would she continue working or quit? Will they overcome their misunderstanding and start a new or loose their love to revenge? After all it takes two to tango and the more you hate, the more you fall in love.
Read to find out. You will experience a surge of emotions and your heart strings will be played like a guitar chord."

"Look how wet you are," Philip growled, his cock thrusting deep. "I'm not interested."

Catherine smiled. "It doesn't matter, so long as I'm intrigued by you," she whispered, stroking his cock, sliding onto him with a slow, teasing grind, her soaked pussy gripping him tightly.

Motivated by revenge, Catherine Levin used herself as bait to trap the ruthless tycoon Philip Foster in a web of desire and deceit.

As his beloved ex returned, he cast Catherine aside. However, her drunken confession revealed her true identity: the innocent girl he had known eight years prior.

What else could this woman be hiding?

An accident left him mentally impaired, but for three years he loved me—gentle, steady, impossibly attentive.

Then he recovered—and all I got was his cold back.

If love can vanish, why keep holding on?

My palm settles on my belly.
"Baby," I whisper, "do we just file for the divorce?"

Five years ago, my world shattered in a single night.

On my wedding anniversary, I discovered my husband, Rowan Whittaker, in the arms of his ambitious subordinate—Serena, who was carrying his child. Within hours, my family's tech empire collapsed under Rowan's betrayal, and my father was left comatose after a ruthless corporate coup. Broken, pregnant, and hunted by secrets, I fled overseas, seeking refuge from the unseen enemies who destroyed my world.

Now I'm back in Los Angeles—not as the naive heiress everyone remembers, but as H.S., a quantum chip expert known for playing hard and winning harder. I'm not alone; my twin children, sharp and cunning, are my greatest allies.

I know exactly what I need to do: uncover the truth behind my father's fall, reclaim my family's legacy, and make Rowan pay for every lie and betrayal. But in the world of high-stakes tech, revenge is never simple. As old flames reignite and new enemies surface, I discover that even the perfect plan for vengeance comes with complications I never expected...

Olivia's mother was diagnosed with a brain tumor and needed urgent operation. Two days before the operation, she hadn't gathered enough money for her operation. She turned to her father for help, but he chased her out, colluding with his mistress.

Disheartened and helpless she left the house, but before she could reach the hospital she was caught in an accident.

Two days after the accident Olivia woke up to an unfamiliar yet classic and Luxurious room, but how did she end up here ? Who brought her here?


"He's only a friend"

"You're my woman and mine alone, I Don't want any other man close to you!” Morgan half yelled, closing the distance between them.

“W-what are you doing ?” Olivia asked, arching her brows in confusion.

Before she could understand what he was about to do, he pulled her waist to him, roughly claiming her lips.

"Joanna, you can't escape!" Sebastian roars, gripping my wrist and yanking me against his chest. His lips crush mine—raw and searing—stealing the air from my lungs. I fight him, but my body betrays me, trapped between shame and a hunger I can't explain. Through tears, I whisper, "Am I just Elodie's ghost to you? Or something you own?" His eyes darken, silencing me with a kiss that leaves me hating myself for wanting more.

I'm Joanna Bennett, struggling to pay my mother's medical bills when Sebastian King stormed into my life because I resemble his dead girlfriend. He rules his empire with ruthless control, treating me like a pawn. At night, I hear him call her name, his voice breaking in ways it never does with me.

My brother Daniel watches with quiet rage, while Sebastian's enigmatic brother Zayne’s sudden interest feels far from innocent. Soon, I uncover shocking lies about my own past that threaten everything.

When Sebastian announces his engagement, I shatter—then he drags me to mansion, locking the door, reminding me what’ll happen to my mother’s care if I leave.

His fiancée Ava cuts me down with cruel jabs. Then Daniel’s journal reveals a forbidden love that broke him, destroying us both.

Until Sebastian finds me at our lakeside, dropping to his knees: “I was wrong.”

Can I forgive him—or myself if I do?

Freya's an alien, from planet Eris. She came to Earth to live, and from the planet bureau system, they gave her a new identity. Daughter of the Quinn’s. On the day she came here, a mistake happened, and she almost lost her life but was saved by Ash. That's why when her “supposedly” sister escaped, she got married to Ash on her behalf.

"Why? Because you still love your late wife??"

"Yes," he didn't waver in his response and he glanced at her and she could see the emotions much present in his eyes, they were genuine and consuming. "Does it bother you??"

His question drew her out of her thought and she quickly cleared her throat and shrugged, "No, it doesn't because I think I know that you still do, it's written in your eyes. You want someone to be beside you to help you convince the world of the lie that you have moved on from your late wife even though you truly haven't even after three years and you need someone who will know how you feel about her and still stay through it all. But we know such a person doesn't exist. No normal person would get into a relationship with you knowing full well that even though they fall for you, your heart will never be theirs. And so we make pretend and that's why you offered me the contract of being your pretend girlfriend, Mr inferno."

The luxury cruise ship in the high seas had become a floating steel coffin for the beautiful CEO and me.
Just a door away, the corridor was teeming with slithering, tentacled Mimics. The wet, crunching sounds of them chewing on raw flesh were enough to make anyone’s scalp go numb.
Inside the pitch-black storage cabin—measuring barely three square meters—the usually aloof and untouchable Ice Queen of the corporate world was so terrified she had her flawless body pressed desperately against my chest.
In this extreme claustrophobia, her scalding body heat generated a fierce friction against me in the face of absolute despair.
"Keep me alive. Everything I have... is yours."

Maximilian Adenhart ruled over his coven for full five hundred years without any trifle stumbling on his feet. He's the greatest among the ruling class. Anyone who tells otherwise will perish under his gentle hands. For him, he lacks nothing in life. But his sister has a different opinion of him. That's why Max found himself having a 'vacation' inside the town of Little Maddison. Where he later on came to meet his fated mate, Dolly. A sweet, lovely rabbit shifter who's unfortunately living with another man.
It was never what Max had expected from the beginning.

The year the gas swallowed the world, I helped design and build Dome City with my own hands, keeping the last survivors alive.

I thought I was protecting hope.

Then I stumbled onto the Council’s secret: the poison outside is fading—but they chose to hide it. Worse, they plan to manufacture and release more gas, locking everyone inside forever, under their rule.

Before I could expose the truth, the person I trusted most struck me from behind.

My girlfriend—Vera Walker.

She took my evidence, stripped my access, and traded me for a higher rank.

When I woke up, I was outside the Dome in toxic fog—my identity erased, my lungs burning, my vision slipping.

They dumped me like trash, certain I wouldn’t last the night.

They forgot one thing.

Dome City is my blueprint, my welds, my pipes—my work.

And I’m back.

Seven years ago, my wife and son committed perjury in court, conspiring to send me to a high-security prison, all so they could elope with that fraudster.
Seven years later, I was released.
My ex-wife, with her son, arrogantly tossed a business card onto my faded work clothes:
"Go kowtow to my new husband and apologize, and I'll give you a waiter's job."
Little did she know that just hours later, at a top-tier financial summit across America, her seemingly untouchable new husband was kneeling at my feet like a dog.
And her proud multi-billion dollar empire was nothing more than garbage I could crush with a flick of my finger.

After ten years of being a "consumable," I performed my final maintenance on the very day Vivian handed my life's work over to someone else. I didn’t argue or resist; I just signed the paperwork with a smile. When the Thorne Tower began to collapse floor by floor due to my final permission error, she finally realized that all the brilliance she boasted of was nothing more than the residual warmth I had fed her. Now, she kneels in the ruins, begging me to turn back time. I only find her voice… annoying.

I suddenly awakened the ability to read minds. But I heard my fiancé, Joey Jones, mocking me in his mind: He had already arranged for an assassin to “send me off” at our wedding in the church. What was even more disgusting was that he promised I would become the Donna of the Jones family, but in his heart, he was fixated on his stepmother, Rory—his father’s widow, who was only a few years older than him.
With only three days left until the wedding, I no longer cried or begged for love. Instead, I contacted my first love, Nate, who was a police officer: “How about being the male lead at my wedding?”

Last life, my girlfriend was trapped in a fire. I ran in, took the burns, and dragged her out alive.
When she woke up, she pointed at me first: “He’s the arsonist.”

Only later did I learn the truth—she’d been sleeping with her boss. They set the fire for an insurance payout and pinned everything on me.
Police investigations, the company cutting ties, the media turning me into a monster—I couldn’t prove a thing. I died in the rain, discarded like trash.

This time, I didn’t expose them. I didn’t call the cops.
On the night of the fire, I left early—then staged a robbery and walked myself into a police station, building the cleanest alibi possible.

They lit the match on schedule, trapped themselves, and waited for me to charge in.
As the flames grew and I never showed, she called—furious—demanding I come now.

I glanced at the officer taking my statement and said into the phone, calmly:
“Sorry. I can’t leave right now.”

In our third year of surviving the wasteland, my companions and I finally realized it was all a reality show.

The elites and billionaires on the outside had built a massive dome, tossing us into this irradiated hellhole to be tortured. They broadcasted it globally, watching us drink toxic wastewater and eat mutated meat, treating us like monkeys in a zoo.

The mole in our team knelt in the mud, sobbing, begging me to understand that it was all a script—that as long as I played along, I could live.

Without a second thought, I swung my blade. Right in front of ten million VIP viewers, I chopped off his leg.

"Crappy script," I sneered, kicking aside the severed limbs and blood on the floor. Gripping my machete, I walked toward the real world beyond the heavy gates.

To those who used our lives for entertainment: I'm coming for yours.

As the extreme cold apocalypse arrives, my most trusted protégé conspires with other shareholders to force me from power. Everyone is watching me become a laughingstock.

Just as I reach the brink of desperation and prepare to sign my resignation, countless scrolling comments suddenly cover my vision.

They're frantically displaying information about the future, such as—in three days, the apocalypse will end...

She built a quiet life from the wreckage of a marriage that nearly swallowed her whole. A bakery. A hidden talent for art. And a son she loves more than breathing. At forty, Corinna Adler is composed, grounded, but devastatingly unsated, starved and untouched.

One night was supposed to fix that.

One anonymous night at Obscura, the city's most secretive underground club with a man whose hands knew things about her body she had forgotten were possible. Young, commanding, and patient. The kind of man Corinna would unfortunately, never forget.

Because the morning after, he re-introduces himself into her reality in a way she never sees coming.

Six years ago, Marlowe Kestrel drowned in the Duskhaven canals, or at least that is what the obituary said, what the empty coffin implied, and what every ruling House in the city has believed ever since.

In reality she swam two streets over, bribed a mortician with a forged signature, and built herself a new, gloriously unremarkable life as a small time magical forger who fixes other people's problems for coin and never, ever asks about bloodlines. It was a good plan.

It worked for six entire years, which is roughly five years and eleven months longer than anyone expected a Kestrel to survive in hiding. Then Jonas, the only man alive who knew her real name, turns up dead in his own workshop with a mark burned into his palm that Marlowe has spent her whole life trying to forget she carries too, and the only lead worth following belongs to Cassian Draven, heir to the most feared criminal House in the city, a man with a smile like a drawn blade and a family reputation built on making problems disappear as thoroughly as Marlowe once did herself.

Cassian recognizes her in under a minute, does not turn her in, and instead offers a deal she has no good reason to accept and every practical reason to take, pose as his fiancée at the season's summit of ruling Houses, help him smoke out whoever is hunting them both, and maybe, if she is very lucky and very careful, walk away with her second fake death arranged before anyone notices the first one was fake too.

The trouble is, the longer she spends pretending to love a Draven, the harder it gets to remember that hating him was ever supposed to be the easy part.

My squadmates falsely accused me of being a vampire. They poured scalding water over me claiming it was "holy water," spiked my meals with garlic extract, and even splashed me with stinking goat blood. In the end, their madness drove them to plunge a sharpened cross straight into my heart...

A wealthy heir was ordered to seduce me, intending to photograph me in compromising positions to destroy my reputation.
At midnight, his hands trembled as he prepared to send the photos, but I coldly exposed his cowardice and ambition.
That night, he deleted all the evidence before my eyes, his gaze filled with complete fanaticism and submission.
Later, he knelt on one knee with a diamond ring, but I poured myself a drink: "I don't need a partner to share power with—I just need an obedient dog."

The End Times Came, and I Awakened the Ability to Grow Vegetables

Every time I catalyzed a vegetable, it drained my stamina and life force.

But my sister Lucy needs to eat, and everyone in the camp needs to eat.

So I gave my life to the soil, exchanging life for food again and again.

Cult leader Silas patted my shoulder and said I was God's gardener, that Eden was born because of me.

I thought I had found a home.

I distributed the vegetables I grew to everyone in the camp.

Until I discovered the blue-green veins on my sister's arm.

Until I discovered that the bottle of "holy water" I fed her every day wasn't medicine at all.

Until I discovered that my sister had been sent to their altar.

I am the youngest Don of the Obsidian Family.
After an unexpected rest, my opponent sent me a street racing invitation.
I went to my brother's company to retrieve my car, but was drugged with ether by my brother's secretary.
She told me that no one could seduce her man.
She kicked my stomach, threatened me with a paper cutter to make a vow, and said her future sister-in-law is the youngest Don of the Obsidian Family—if I dared to retaliate against her, I would die miserably.
I looked at her coldly.
Really?
But I haven't agreed to be your sister-in-law yet!

What was supposed to be a forgotten one-night mistake became the beginning of a life-changing destiny.

After a reckless night in Paris, Sandra wakes up beside a stranger whose name she never learns. Months later, she discovers she’s pregnant. Determined to protect her child, Sandra chooses to raise her son alone — unaware that the mysterious man is not human, but the powerful Vampire King searching for his lost heir.

He wandered the world like a lost soul, wanting to die but unable to.
He killed the only girl who had sincerely accepted him, loneliness was his punishment.
He drifted aimlessly, gradually forgetting the taste of food, beginning to savor the beauty of drinking blood,
No longer caring about the disdainful and fearful looks from people, no longer caring about anything at all,
But no matter how hard he tried to forget,
The regret from years ago could never be shaken off, following him like a shadow,
Just when he thought he might go mad from extreme loneliness,
He met a girl,
Her eyes resembled those of the girl in his deep memories,
When she boldly stabbed a silver sword into his chest while on the bed,
He didn't know whether he would fall into hell, or into a river of love...

On our third anniversary, I planned to announce my pregnancy, only to find my husband expecting a child with another woman
"It’s just for an heir," he pleaded, trying to trap me in our marriage.
Heartbroken, I hid my secret, served him divorce papers, and vanished.
When I returned to the spotlight, I wasn't alone. Beside me stood the city’s most mysterious and powerful tycoon.
My ex, crazed with jealousy, pinned me against the wall. "You are mine! Come home!"
But the tycoon pulled me into his arms, his gaze icy. "Back off. She belongs to me now."
In this three-way battle for my heart, who will be the ultimate winner?

I'm Sophie White, an orphan who was arranged to marry Bay City's most powerful devil—the ruthless, dangerous, and devastatingly handsome Adam Foster.

"Adam, please..." I whimpered as his touch set my body aflame. From the bathroom to his massive bed, he claimed me relentlessly until dawn, leaving me breathless and burning with desire.

But beneath our passionate nights lurked a terrifying reality. My fairy tale marriage became a nightmare of obsession and control. He monitored my every move, threatened my unborn child, and kept me prisoner in his golden cage.

Everything changed the night he led me to his secret basement—a chamber of horrors where his own father had tortured him for five years. As I stared at the chains and shadows of his past, I finally glimpsed the broken soul behind those cold eyes.

Was this vulnerability real? Or was I falling deeper into the trap of Bay City's most dangerous predator?

Just when I thought I knew all his secrets, I discovered something that would shatter both our worlds forever...

Due to an arranged marriage between our families, I married Damien Blackwood, heir to a business empire.

During five years of marriage, I tried hard to play the perfect wife, bore him a daughter Lily, thinking I had finally won his love.

Until his first love Serena returned from abroad, I watched him rekindle his passion for another woman, watched them rekindle their old flame.

A car accident changed everything.

I was taken to court, sentenced to three years in prison, becoming a "murderer" despised by everyone.

And he personally sent me to prison.

Not long after I transferred to this school, I became the bullies’ favorite target.
They didn’t like how quiet I was or how pale I looked, so they casually slapped me with a nickname: “vampire.”
It started with shoves in the hallway and jeers in the classroom, escalated to messing with my drink, then stuffing trash into my locker.
They treated my silence as permission and wrapped every provocation in the same excuse: “Just a joke.”
Until that night, when humiliation wasn’t enough. They lured me into a tiny storage room behind the auditorium—locked the door, killed the lights, set up a fixed camera—ready to strap me to a chair and film an “execution” video that would make sure I could never hold my head up at this school again.
What they didn’t know was that the nickname wasn’t a joke. It was the one time they got the truth right.
I really am a vampire.

“Marry me, and I’ll help you destroy everyone who hurt you,” he said in a deep voice, sending chills down my spine.

Betrayed by her husband and best friend, stripped of the life she worked so hard to protect, and left for dead, Elaine Ferguson wakes up to a world turned against her.

Enter Zayn Von Richter, a ruthless and devastatingly powerful billionaire who offers her a chance at revenge on the condition that she marries him for a year.

But Zayn may not be who he appears to be, and as their connection intensifies, the lines between pretence and reality begin to fade, threatening to unravel everything Elaine has fought to reclaim.

I am a hero. The saint's husband.
A country boy chosen by the temple.
I fight, I fight, I fight.
All for the saint, for the temple.
But it wasn't until I was drained of blood and dying on the altar that I finally heard clearly what the saint and her childhood sweetheart were saying:
"If you become a hero and marry the saint, you'll have to surrender your soul to the temple. I don't want you to lose your soul."
"Then let's just find some country boy to be the hero. It won't matter if he dies."
Oh, so that's how it is.
You should have said so earlier.
I can defeat the Demon Lord just fine without the saint.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the wedding ceremony.
This time, someone else should be on the altar.

An S-Rank [Thunder Tyrant]?

I watched coldly as the "good brother" who had betrayed me in my past life strutted around, stealing my woman and humiliating my F-Rank skill.

What he didn't know was that every time he channeled his lightning, his talent was draining his lifespan. In our past life, I was the one who used my skill, [Status Reset], to restore his life force time and time again.

Reborn for another lifetime, I decided I was done playing the saint.

When the crimson behemoth shattered the dome, Brad laughed maniacally, summoning a storm of lightning. But in an instant, the fierce backlash turned his arms into brittle charcoal, shattering in pieces across the ground. I stepped over his rolling, mutilated body and picked up a piece of rusty scrap metal.

"Reset."

The dead rust was eradicated. The scrap metal instantly reverted to a fully charged, high-frequency combat blade.

Gripping the blade in one hand, I faced the overwhelming tide of corpses and carved out a path of blood.

My wife, the most ruthless godmother in New York's underworld, wants a divorce.
The reason? Her male subordinate's old wound has flared up, and he only has three months to live. She wants to accompany him on his final journey as his wife.
To make room for her new lover, she not only doesn't go home, but even allows him to frame me for a fabricated death sentence.
In the dimly lit underground interrogation room, the backlash from deviating from the proper procedures caused my organs to rapidly fail, and I developed a persistent high fever.
Through the iron bars, she looked at my disfigured body, not recognizing me, but coldly raising her gun and giving the order to execute me herself.
She proudly believed that by clearing the way, she could go back and have a grand wedding with the man who was feigning illness.
Until the last shot, when my breathing stopped completely, she saw the old scar on the back of my left hand—the scar from the severed finger I had left for her.
That once arrogant godmother instantly broke down in tears beside my corpse.

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.

To save my terminally ill wife and daughter, I drained half my wolf blood and tore out my own right fang.
Stripped of my source power, I became a worthless wolf despised by the entire clan.
My wife cast me out of the den, pinching her nose at the stench of rot on me; my daughter threw stones at me, cursing me with hatred as a blind, useless failure.
Together, they set their eyes on another young, strong Alpha. They let him trample my dignity in public, and finally had me brutally slaughtered on the frozen wasteland.
But they never knew, the reason that man could make their souls submit and fall for him was that his veins ran entirely with my heart's blood.
Only when I was reduced to a boneless husk of a wolf did my wife go mad, clawing her own gland raw, weeping and begging me to leave her one last mark.

I'm Sophia. After three years of marriage, my husband abandoned me for his first love, leaving me in danger and at the mercy of a stranger.
Desperate and pregnant, he accused me of cheating and even tried to harm our unborn child.
Five years later, I return with twins. With tears in his eyes, he demands, “Whose children are they? Who did you cheat on me with?”

I pretended still belonged to him.
Until I took back everything that was mine.

I believed I’d married for love. For three years, I happily gave up my career to be the perfect wife and mother.

Then my doctor told me the truth: I was dependent on sedatives—drugs I never took myself.

The only explanation? The warm glass of milk my husband handed me every night.

As I dug deeper, the truth unraveled: his affair with my sister-in-law, the secret transfer of company assets, even my own sister’s strange betrayal.

He didn’t just break my heart—he stole my future.

Now, for my daughter’s sake… and for the years I lost…

I’ll make sure he has nothing left to lose.

He put his wife behind bars to avenge his first love.

For three years, she suffered. Her baby was torn from her arms; her proud family was wiped out; her grandfather’s body was tossed away like worthless garbage.

Yet the real monster was sleeping in his bed—a hypocrite who starved his infant son in a pitch-black, rat-infested basement.

When the truth was buried beneath her scars, she pointed a gun at his chest, tears fading into ice.

"In my next life, I will never love you again."

Then, she stepped off the cliff. He screamed, clutching at the empty air as she vanished.

She died a broken victim.

But she was reborn as his executioner—and this time, mercy was off the table.

I was reborn, back to the moment before I was dragged to death by motorcycles in the wasteland.

In my previous life, I listened to the moral blackmail of the saintly female lead Daisy and used my abilities to desperately save a motorcycle gang surrounded by zombies.

As a result, I was severely injured from ability overexertion, and these ungrateful wolves used me as a tool to establish dominance, dragging me to death with motorcycles across the wasteland.

Before I died, Daisy was still there crying: "We tried our best, this isn't our fault."

Now that I have a second chance, she stands before me again shouting:

"Cole! What are you standing there for? Go save them! Those people are going to die! You have abilities, you must save them!"

Looking at her hypocritical saintly face, rage burned in my chest.

Why should my abilities save ungrateful wolves? Why should my life be a stepping stone for others?

The kindness of fools is worthless!

So I threw her out to feed the zombies!

At fifteen, my parents died on their way of volunteer teaching in underprivileged areas. I was adopted by the Miller family’s Don, Vincent and was brought up by himself. For ten years, he hauled me out of the mud, gave me a home, gave me favor no one else got and taught me what a “family” was supposed to mean.
On my eighteenth birthday, I climbed onto his bed and kissed him.
He called me disgusting with a face like ice. Later, he brought Isabella home, forced me to be her bridesmaid, and made me go with her to pick out wedding dresses and jewelry.
One shove from her was all it took for him to lock me in a pitch-black confinement room and he even had the light removed.
That was when I finally understood: everything I had could be taken back from me at any moment.

On the execution platform, my noble and beautiful wife used her dagger to carve open my chest.
My nominal adopted son pressed a red-hot iron into my skin, branding me with the "F"-class mark of the lowest outcast, draining my transcendent bloodline dry.
"The Storm Kingdom has no use for a cripple with zero beast-spirit affinity. You belong rotting in the abyss!"
They cut the chains and kicked me into the Black Abyss—a place from which no one returns—then turned to carve up my throne.
They thought I was as good as dead.
They had no idea that the deepest darkness of that abyss harbored the most terrifying ancient demon in existence.
Two weeks later, as they raised their glasses to toast the new king's coronation, I kicked down the castle gates, wielding the ember-fire of annihilation and a tide of ten thousand beasts.
Looking down at the woman who once stood so high above me, now groveling in the mud and begging for mercy, I tossed the bloodstained broken blade onto the hem of her dress:
"Remember this forever—it was you who took a nobody you crushed beneath your feet and turned him into a king you'll kneel before and never win back. Now, hand over your lives."

In my previous life, my wife was addicted to black market gambling on football, which caused us to lose everything.
To make matters worse, a zombie horde then broke out.
We had no shelter and were quickly torn apart by a horde of frenzied zombies.
After being reborn, she planned to run off with all the money, then dump me and elope with her lover.
What she didn't know was that I had awakened the ability to read minds and knew all her plans.

Married for seven years, I lived my life like an absolute joke.
For the sake of my brother, my wife personally uprooted the roses I had so painstakingly cultivated. To please her uncle, my daughter pointed at my nose and called me a "bad daddy."
The entire family even held a vote to force me to donate my bone marrow. My wife, Elena, raised her hand without a second thought: "You'll just lose a little bone marrow. Liam will die without you."
In that moment, my heart died.
The surgery was a success.
As the anesthesia wore off, Elena was holding my hand tightly. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her voice trembled with remorse: "Aaron, I was a jerk before. As long as you were willing to save Liam, I will love only you for the rest of my life."
She thought I would be as pathetically grateful as a dog, begging for her affection and humbly forgiving her.
But I merely frowned in disgust and pulled my hand back as if shaking off garbage.
In the dead silence, I looked at this tearful woman before me and asked, politely yet confused:
"Excuse me, ma'am... who are you?"

She's the housekeeper's daughter. He's Manhattan's coldest billionaire. One drugged drink changes everything.

Aria Taylor wakes up in Blake Morgan's bed, accused of seducing him. Her punishment? A five-year marriage contract—his wife on paper, his servant in reality. While Blake flaunts his true love Emma at Manhattan galas, Aria pays for her father's medical bills with her dignity.

Three years of humiliation. Three years of being called a murderer's daughter—because her father's car "accidentally" killed a powerful man, leaving him comatose and her family destroyed.

Now Aria's pregnant with Blake's child. The baby he swore he'd never want.

Someone wants her dead. They locked her in a freezer, sabotaged her every step. Is it because her father is waking up? Because someone's terrified of what he might remember?

Her own mother tries to pull his plug. Blake's perfect Emma isn't who she pretends to be. And those memories Aria has of saving Blake from a fire? Everyone says they're impossible.

But they're not.

As attacks escalate, Aria discovers the ultimate betrayal: The woman who raised her might not be her real mother. The accident that destroyed her life might have been murder. And Blake—the man who treats her like property—might be her only salvation.

When her father wakes up, what secrets will he reveal? Will Blake discover his wife carries his heir before someone kills her? And when he learns who really saved him, who really drugged him, and who's been hunting his wife—will his revenge become her redemption?