150 Book(s) Related to Eternal Daughter

To give my twelve-year-old daughter a peaceful and ordinary childhood, I sealed away the "Eagle" badge that represented the highest military authority in the Federation, willingly becoming a repairman with an oily phone in a remote town.
I suppressed my murderous intent, swallowed my humiliation, and even remained silent about the injustice of the referee.
But my concessions to the powerful and wealthy resulted in the richest man leading a group of professional thugs to smash my home to ruins.
to fight in front of my daughter , until his reckless son smashed my "Eagle Badge," hidden deep inside.
They had no idea that the instant the badge broke—
the SSS-level emergency beacon hidden at its core—had been triggered !

A madman attacked the concert hall. I threw myself over my son, taking every blow meant for him. My spine shattered in three places.

My husband Arthur subdued the attacker and rushed us to the hospital—the picture of a devoted, loving spouse.

It was only after hearing his conversation with the doctor that I finally saw his true colors.

My crippling injury was merely collateral damage. My son Ethan? Nothing but a living cornea donor for Mia—the cherished daughter he had with his first love.

He treated my child like spare parts, never knowing Mia isn't even his blood.

For fifty years, I bathed in blood for my world, only to return home to find my wife dead and my daughter about to be sacrificed.
The High Priest stepped on my daughter’s head, branding me a traitor, and declared he would burn her to ashes. Scarred, broken, and with my magic depleted, I was bound to the pyre alongside her. Tens of thousands cursed us from below as the flames engulfed the stage.
Weeping, my daughter asked me, "Daddy, are you really a hero?"
I crushed the pendant on my chest.
Dragons, Dwarves, Berserkers—the million-strong allied army I had united over those fifty years descended across dimensions.
The High Priest slumped to the ground, trembling uncontrollably. "Who... who exactly are you?"
Staring into his eyes, I said only one thing:
"Dragons have reverse scales; touch them, and you die. You crossed the line!"

Thirty thousand feet in the air, inside the sealed cabin of a commercial airliner, my five-year-old daughter vanished into thin air while I took a thirty-minute nap.
I tore through the lavatories, the galleys, and every overhead bin. The only thing I found was her stuffed bunny, the one she never let out of her sight.
What was even more terrifying was the crew and the passengers. As if perfectly rehearsed, they all insisted I had boarded the plane alone. They even gaslit me in front of everyone, claiming I was mentally unstable and had hallucinated a daughter.
They took turns pushing me, trying to force me into self-doubt and submission. Not a single person offered to help me look. The entire plane was covering up a sinister crime.
If this plane was going to hide my child and protect the guilty, then I would tear this hypocritical aircraft apart with my bare hands.

My daughter was murdered on her eleventh birthday during a brutal snuff livestream on the dark web.

The chat was flooded with the sick revelry and obscene tips of twisted buyers.

"Break her legs a little more."
"I want to hear her cry out."

Lying in a pool of blood, my daughter cried out in sheer despair: "Mom... save me... it hurts so much..."

Watching my daughter take her last breath amid violent convulsions, I clawed at my own fingers until they were torn and bloody.

The police told me it was her elegant ballet instructor, Serena, who had sent her to hell. And the one who helped Serena cover her tracks was my husband, David.

In my utter despair, I swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills.

When I opened my eyes again, I had been thrown back to the very day I was supposed to take my daughter to her ballet class.

Sitting in the passenger seat, dressed in her ballet tutu, my daughter looked at me with eyes full of anticipation.

"Hurry up, Mom. Ms. Serena said we're rehearsing the solo for Swan Lake today."

The blood in my veins instantly ran cold.

Elliot Knox and I were in court fighting over custody of our daughter.

In my first life, when the judge asked who she wanted to live with, I heard her thoughts.

Mom looks so sad. Cordelia wants to stay with Mom...

My eyes welled up right there. I signed away half of everything we owned and walked away with nothing else, just to keep her with me.

Three months after I got custody, my sweet, obedient daughter handed the FBI a forged tax fraud document herself.

I spent years in prison with everyone in there gunning for me, and I died coughing up blood on a snowy winter night.

In my second life, I wasn't about to risk it again. I gave custody to Elliot instead.

A few years later, he ended up in the hospital, gravely ill. By the time I got there, he was barely hanging on. He told me:

"It was Cordelia... she's been poisoning my medication..."

I opened my eyes again and found myself back in that courtroom.

That same childish voice went off in my head right on cue, word for word identical to the last two times.

But this time, I looked up and saw Elliot across from me, clearly reborn too, his face full of the same shock and confusion.

So which one of us does she actually want?

My name is Megan, and I am the Queen of the Star Fae.
Sixteen years ago, I left my Mate — Orlando, Alpha of the Darkmoon Pack — and the daughter we had just brought into the world, to hold back an invasion of Abyssal demons.
Sixteen years of war in the Void — and at last, the Abyss was sealed.
I came home crowned in glory, my mastery over the Source of Starlight absolute. I expected my husband's arms and my daughter's smile waiting for me.
I never imagined that setting foot on Darkmoon land again would mean no flowers, no cheering — only the sound of my own child screaming for help from inside a filthy dungeon.

In my third year at the Eden Center, I forgot how to play guitar, forgot the rhythm of rock and roll, and forgot the name Melody.
They used twelve thousand electric shocks and seven hundred hours of sleep deprivation to scrub my name down to Number 2963.
Now, I'm their perfect instrument. No preferences, no pain, only commands.
My parents finally got the perfect daughter they'd always dreamed of—until the day they ordered me to die.

I was their real daughter.

The lost princess they found, brought home, and promised to protect.

But every time she cried, I was the one punished.

Every time she bled, I was the one accused.

When she disappeared, they said it was my fault. They tore my memories apart to prove it.

Fine , only if they stand where I stood, feel what I felt, will they ever know my pain.

The moment I gave up wasn't when I found out my husband was cheating. It was when I heard my ten-year-old daughter laugh into the phone and say, "Mom's so clueless. She has no idea about Dad and Summer."

Ten years ago, I was a top biomedical researcher, making six figures. I gave it all up for his promotion and our newborn daughter. Ten years later, the perfect marriage I traded my career and youth for turned out to be nothing but an elaborate lie.

He called me his safe haven, then got in our bed with his mistress and discussed how to keep me in the dark.

This time, I'm not going to cry or make a scene. I'm going to quietly gather my evidence and call the lab director I've turned down seven times.

My husband, Callum, never loved me. On our wedding night, he panted another woman’s name.
For five years, I endured a cold, loveless marriage. The only reason I held on was my daughter, Tessa.
But on the eve of her fourth birthday, Callum went behind my back and personally delivered her to his mistress Seraphina's underground lab.
The moment my daughter was drained of her blood and her heart stopped beating on that operating table, he was drinking champagne with Seraphina to celebrate their success.
From the moment I walked out of the crematorium holding Tessa’s freezing urn, the submissive wife I used to be died.

I woke up on the same morning I was about to send another payment for my daughter's education.
In my last life, I paid for everything. Every year, without missing a payment.
Tuition. AP tutoring. Summer program deposits. Medical bills. Birthday gifts. The education fund.
Not one payment late. Not one skipped.
I only found out the truth after I died. My daughter wore a blazer that hung off her like a hand-me-down. She glued her shoes back together instead of throwing them out. She got mocked in front of her whole class for owing a two-thousand-dollar activity fee she should never have had to worry about.
She hated me for it.
She said, "You say you love me. So why was there never any money for me?"
I understood the truth only when it was too late to matter. It was never that I hadn't given enough.
It was that my husband had been siphoning it out from under me the whole time, spending it on another woman's family.
This time, I didn't wait to find out.

My daughter helped my husband cheat.

My ten-year-old begged me to take her to a summer camp in Italy. My husband looked at her like she hung the moon. Booked the tickets right there.

I thought I was the luckiest mom alive.

Then I checked the pet camera from overseas.

There he was, fucking my daughter's riding instructor on our couch.

But what really killed me? What he said, "Don't worry. Nina wants that horse bad enough, she'll keep her mom in Europe as long as we need."

Back home, my husband dropped a receipt. Two identical limited edition watches.

He froze. My sweet daughter didn't miss a beat, "Dad used the other one to bribe someone so I could get my horse!"

They lied in perfect sync. That's when something in me broke.

They thought I was still that stupid, trusting wife.

What they didn't know?

I'd already signed a contract. Going back to my art career in New York.

Meridian is the daughter of the alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, but on the day of the moon celebration,
an event where the man she fell in love with finally decided to propose to her.
the Kingdom of Umbra, ruled by evil wizards known for conquering
territories, by force, invades her lands. During the attack, Meridian is kidnapped.
Now, with no memory and living as a renegade, she has become an expert hunter.
After two years of intense training, Meridian is appointed personal protector of the
prince of Umbra. Everything finally seemed to be under control, but two conflicts
torment her:
The prince of the wizards has an undeniable attraction for her. The romance between the two is forbidden, but resisting the temptation of his seductive presence is a constant challenge.
After an ambush, she encounters a mysterious wolf. He doesn't attack her. Instead, instead, its pale blue eyes pierce her soul, awakening disturbing dreams and fragments of memories from the past.
As she tries to unravel the secrets of her own history, Meridian realizes that her new life in the Kingdom of Umbra could be an imminent conflict zone. With a devastating war between the mages of Umbra and the Silver Moon Pack approaching, she will face an impossible choice: protect those she now considers allies or fight for the blood that still runs in her veins.
What will she do when her loyalties are tested?

As a housewife, I never forgot a single milestone: every wedding anniversary, my husband’s 7th career anniversary, and the birthdays of my husband and daughter. Yet, my own birthday was always ignored. Both my husband and daughter only cared about that outsider woman. Finally, one day, I chose to walk away and revive my vintage shop business. Now... they are the ones filled with regret.

Siren's Reef only breeds women.
On this isolated island, Henrietta's orphanage takes in all fatherless girls. She raises us until our eighteenth birthday—the night of the "Coral Crowning," an annual coming-of-age ritual that supposedly earns the Sea God's blessing.
My sister Saffron and I are identical twins, raised wearing the exact same face.
But on this island, the same face doesn't spell the same fate. She was the one Henrietta spoiled from birth; I was the one allowed to trail behind her.
I thought it would always be this way. Until she died. Henrietta claimed Saffron broke the rules and was flayed alive by the serrated edges of the reef. But that day, I saw it with my own eyes: Saffron's signature dimple had appeared on Henrietta's cheek—where none had been before.

Betrayed, exploited, and left to die in a cold basement by the family she called her own, Eleanor Hamilton’s life ended in despair.

But fate grants her a second chance.

She wakes up five years in the past, back when she was still the submissive foster daughter trapped in a web of lies.

This time, she refuses to be their doormat.

Armed with memories of her tragic future, Eleanor vows to tear down the hypocritical masks of her adoptive mother and sister.

Yet, revenge is a dangerous game, and she needs power to survive.

Enter Tristan Douglas—the ruthless, enigmatic CEO who holds the city in his grasp.

He is the one man her enemies fear most.

What begins as a strategic alliance soon ignites into an intense romance.

Under Tristan’s absolute protection, the once-timid girl transforms into a dazzling queen.

As her enemies watch in horror, they realize too late:
the fragile foster daughter they discarded has returned, and she is untouchable.

My chosen mate used his Beta authority to give the entire moonbloom compound to his fated mate's daughter.
The healer had said to split it—half for each child. Both would live. He overrode her. Gave the full dose to Rosalie Blackwell.
He wanted a full recovery. Just not for ours.
Three days later, my daughter Wren's organs shut down. She died on her birthday, still asking why Daddy wasn't there. The dress I'd made her—white with little silver wolves along the hem—she never got to put it on.
That same day, his fated's daughter walked out of the healing hall completely cured. He even threw a feast for the whole pack.
I collapsed at the border of Thornecrest territory. The healers told me it was cancer. Late-stage. Nothing left to treat.
Now I sat alone in our empty house with Wren's unworn birthday dress across my lap and drafted the dissolution papers.

He was once the supreme commander who guarded the frontier for five long years.

When he finally returned home, he discovered a nightmare waiting for him.

His young daughter had been brutally tortured by the mafia, her blood nearly drained from her body.

His wife had suffered endless humiliation at the hands of a ruthless crime lord.

In her darkest moment, the little girl cried out in despair:

"Daddy, where are you? Please save me!"

The moment he heard her plea, his fury became unstoppable.

Alone, he stormed through the enemy's territory and wiped out the entire criminal syndicate.

When powerful families and elite assassin organizations joined forces to crush him, he sent only a single message.

Within hours, armies, mercenaries, and loyal allies from every corner of the world answered his call.

Those who dare harm his daughter will pay with their lives.

The king has returned.

And this time, there will be no mercy.

After five years of bloody battles against the Xenomorphs, I've returned alive, bearing wounds and scars.

Five years ago, my wife Lisa and I fell in love in the military.

Just as Lisa became pregnant, I received a mandatory conscription order from my superior.

The Xenomorphs launched a massive attack. Despite my reluctance, I had to go.

Now the war is over. I've laid down my burden and returned home.

Standing in the dilapidated suburbs, I search for the wife I've wronged and the child I've never met.

The wicked mother and the homewrecker caused an accident that killed the girl's father. Because of this accident, the poor girl lost her virginity and even became homeless. A rich and noble young lady suddenly turned into a waitress working in a British restaurant. Thanks to her father's will, she still inherited 30% of the company's shares and always had a mysterious bodyguard to protect her. However, When she got everything ready and planned to go home again, her mother turned out to be giving the company to that homewrecker and letting the girl's sister inherit all the property.

I used to be the nation's top lock-picking expert. I saved countless lives.

But I couldn't save my own daughter.

At the dock, two children were strapped to bombs.

The girl had less time—I should've saved her first.

But my husband Damien held a knife to his throat, forcing me to save the other one first.

His illegitimate son.

I compromised.

The moment I opened the lock, the kidnapper ripped off the girl's hood.

I never expected her to be Rosie.

My five-year-old daughter.

She looked at me.

Her lips moved, forming the word "Mommy."

Then the explosion tore through everything...

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.

They told me my daughter drowned. Too much to drink, a slick deck, a terrible accident.

Then they put a number on her, slid the check across the table, and asked me to sign away the right to ever ask how she died.

I signed.

They didn't ask what I'd do after.

I changed my name. I spent three years earning a desk in their building, close enough to hear the man who buried her joke about the father who "made some noise, took the money, and went away."

He doesn't know my face. None of them do.

They thought the money bought my silence.

They have no idea what it bought.

Every time Mason tried to force me to back down, he would slam the divorce agreement onto the table.
Every time my parents wanted me to yield, they threatened to sever all ties with me.
What they wanted was simple: for me to give everything to my twin sister.
I once resisted, cried, and questioned them over and over—why was I always the one left hurt?
Until the doctor slid my medical test results in front of me, and said to me in a tone full of pity:
"The pancreatic cancer cells have metastasized. You only have one month left to live, maybe even less."
I had nothing left to care about. I was doomed no matter what, so they could do whatever they wanted with me.

I’d spent six years working under an alias for the High Council.
The day I came home, I happened to see my daughter being slapped by a woman and forced to kneel down.
I slapped the woman back and called my husband, Derek.
The call connected. In the background, I heard his newlywed wife giggling.
In a voice so cold I barely recognized it, he said, “No one can save you.”
Then he hung up.

That woman sneered, “Here, even the air you breathe belongs to Alpha Derek!”
She had no idea Derek only went from an ordinary Gamma to a Pack king because I’d been laying the road for him from behind the curtain.
Now he had his precious wife and son in his arms, and he still let them treat my daughter like a dog.

I smiled.
If he’d forgotten who lifted him onto the throne.
Then I wouldn’t mind dragging him down with my own hands.

“I’m the one deciding your fate, Derek.”
I took my daughter’s hand and looked straight at the man in front of me.
“Game over. Your Alpha era ends here.”

My daughter has passed away, and my ex-husband abandoned us.

In my darkest hour, my first love, Lysander, reappeared; he covered the medical expenses, married me, and provided me with a home.

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

Until that fateful day, four months into my pregnancy, when I overheard his conversation with a friend—

“To save Celeste, I thought... who knew it would lead to the death of Seraphina’s daughter?”

“As for Seraphina, she is a good wife, but alas... I do not love her.”

It turned out that my daughter’s death was no accident.

It was revealed that these five years of marriage were merely his quest for atonement.

The one he had always truly loved was Celeste—my ex-husband’s current wife.

As I lay on the operating table, I made a decision—

Since he had taken my daughter’s kidney, I would seize everything from him.

Including what he believed he would never lose: me.

She begged her mother for $50,000 to save her daughter's life.
Her mother had it—but chose to spend $300,000 on her younger sister's wedding instead.
That was the day Evelyn walked out. No more pleading. No more coming back.
Her husband sold his father's last heirloom. Their neighbors emptied their wallets. They saved her daughter and left for a new life.
A year later, her mother's money was gone. The fraud was exposed. The mansion was seized. The calls started coming—calls begging for help, for money, for forgiveness.
Evelyn listened, then hung up.
She is not going back. Not for guilt, not for blood. The family that let her daughter die does not get to ask her for anything.

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.

Seven years ago I gave up my inheritance and went door to door with Nolan—a broke director shooting street documentaries—my belly out to here, begging investors to take a chance on him.

Everyone said I'd thrown my life away on him.

Seven years later he's a name everyone knows. And Emily, the first love who walked out when he had nothing, is back in Chicago with her daughter.

That afternoon I came home early and heard him pull five-year-old Ivy into his arms: "You can't ever tell Mom that Daddy and Emily are having a fake wedding."

"But Daddy, Mom will be so sad..."

"Say one word and Daddy won't love you anymore. Got it?"

Her little shoulders shook as she nodded, and nodded.

Out in the hallway, I couldn't even be bothered to cry.

I dialed the number I'd kept blocked for seven years. "Dad—can the family plane still come get me and Ivy?"

Nolan, what you lost wasn't a housewife you could push around. You threw away the only person who ever made you her whole world.

"If you want to get your needs met tonight, it will be with me and no other man. Am I clear?"

¢¢¢¢¢¢¢¢

Charlotte Hendry escaped Houston's gilded cage to chase freedom on her own terms, graduate school in New York, a secret life in New Orleans, and absolutely zero entanglements. Maverick Pierce built his empire from nothing, turning poverty and pain into a billion-dollar media dynasty. Neither of them planned for a collision that would shatter every rule they had carefully constructed.

When Maverick discovers Charlotte at his favorite private BDSM club, he faces an impossible choice: walk away or claim the one woman who challenges every part of him. Their connection burns fast and undeniable. But Charlotte's independence and Maverick's possessive nature could destroy what neither of them expected to find.

Can two people who were never looking for love actually build something real?

Ten years of secret service honed my Phantom Legion, a force I built that could make a small nation tremble. On the day I retired and returned to New York, I found a cardboard tent next to a garbage dump in a Bronx back alley. Curled up inside was my daughter, whom I hadn't seen in five years. She was covered in bruises, barefoot, and clutching half a moldy loaf of bread. I picked her up and dialed the phone—"I want everyone who wronged her to suffer a fate worse than death! "

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

The day I signed the divorce papers, Ethan Frost lit up the night sky with thousands of drones spelling out, ‘Vivian Moore, I love you.’ The whole city celebrated his new romance.
On our daughter, Sophie’s birthday, he watched coldly as Vivian’s daughter snatched away her favorite Elsa princess cake—and didn’t even blink when I was shoved down the stairs. Bleeding and trembling, I looked up to see him tenderly massaging Vivian’s feet.
But what truly shattered me was the day Sophie struggled in the pool—Ethan held me back, eyes dark, roaring, “What do you want?”
Later, he scrambled to Sophie’s photo on his knees, crying “Where’s Sophie? Bring her out.” While I only felt absurd, I smiled through my tears “you will never see Sophie again—ever.”

At the parents' meeting, the daughter's diary was read aloud: "My father is the Grand Duke of the Night."
The room erupted in laughter.
The mentor, disregarding her daughter's dignity, tore up her diary, while the nouveau riche woman advised me , a liar, to "get out of this neighborhood."
I didn't say anything, I just stood up. Then, their knees were all shattered.

My daughter has been blind since birth. On her eighteenth birthday, she finally received news of a matching cornea donor.
Our whole family was so excited we couldn't sleep that night. My husband and daughter eagerly prepared for the surgery, their hearts filled with hope that she would soon see the light.
But I suddenly slammed my hand on the table and, amidst the family's stunned gazes, proposed a divorce on the spot.
My husband's face turned ashen as he demanded harshly, "You want a divorce just because I'm going through with our daughter's surgery?"
I curled the corner of my mouth and enunciated every word: "That's right. Because you're going through with her surgery—this marriage is over."

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.

For the three years since I returned to the Hart family, I had always been the wildly out-of-place “burden.”

Vivienne, the family’s beloved fake heiress, broke a contract on her own and provoked a local gang. She was taken hostage and tortured in an abandoned auto repair shop.

To save his precious sister, my brother, Ryan, did not hesitate to trade me to the gang in exchange for Vivienne.
“She’s a movie star, and you’re just a useless nobody. It’s only natural for you to take her place and suffer a little.”
He looked coldly at the gang members who were eyeing me like hungry wolves, and violently shoved me toward them.
“Tonight, she belongs to you.”

Right before they dragged me away, I managed to call my husband, Alex, begging for help. But he rejected me ruthlessly, acting as if my plea was some cheap scam:
“Stop playing the victim. Why would they ever hurt you? Hurry up and clean up this mess. Don't let a girl like Vivienne face those thugs all by herself.”

Bang.
The heavy iron doors of the gang’s hideout slammed shut.
There were no negotiations. What greeted me was a merciless rain of fists, my clothes brutally torn to shreds, and the blinding flashes of cameras.
Amidst the ultimate degradation, they took photos of me, pinched my jaw, and violated my dignity over and over again.

At 4:00 AM, I was tossed out onto the street in front of my own house like a piece of discarded trash.
Upon dragging myself inside, Vivienne immediately began dropping hints to the family, implying that I was the one who tricked her into signing the illegal gang contract.
My family cursed me, telling me to drop dead.
My heart plummeted into a bottomless abyss of darkness. Numbly swallowing the bloody foam pooling in my mouth, I let out a hoarse, broken laugh.

“Since my return was a mistake from the very beginning…”
“Then why didn’t they just let me die?”

For five years, my marriage was nothing but a lie, a perfect show Aiden staged for the entire family.
I loved him for more than a decade. And for his lover, he threw our five-year-old daughter, Chloe, into the basement to be fed to his Dobermans.
All because Chloe accidentally shattered an antique crystal cup, a so-called love token between Aiden and his precious Sophia.
I dropped to my knees and begged. He looked at me like I was nothing and said Family rules matter more than blood.
When I carried my daughter’s mutilated body out of that basement, fireworks were exploding on the rooftop above, celebrating his grand confession of love to Sophia.
He froze my accounts. And on the day of Chloe’s funeral, he took her to a concert.
I was holding my daughter’s ashes, trapped, desperate, with nowhere left to go when a message from an unknown number appeared. A car was waiting at the side gate. It was Daniel, my childhood friend.
Only after I disappeared with my daughter’s ashes did Aiden finally realize the truth—that the “sweet, innocent” Sophia was the real killer of his own child.

My daughter Lily was shot dead while she was performing on her own stage.
I rushed forward to shield her, and a speaker crashed down onto my right shoulder. The bone shattered.
My husband, Vincent, “shot the gunman dead” at once and sealed off the entire opera house.
When I woke up in the hospital room, the pain almost suffocated me. My right shoulder was wrapped in thick bandages, and when I tried to raise my arm, all I felt was a numb.
“…This isn’t what we agreed on.” The doctor’s voice was low and unsteady. “We only needed her blood sample for matching. Why did it have to go this far?”
“Lily’s blood type is a perfect match. This is the best possible outcome,” Vincent said. “I married Elena for this moment. I’ve been waiting for it.”
The doctor was silent for a few seconds. “But she’s your daughter… There’s no need to sacrifice a life, even if she is a Salaceno.”
Vincent cut him off. “You know how long an artificial heart can last. Camila’s daughter won’t hold out for long. I can’t put her through another surgery.”
“Camila’s child is the one I should cherish.”
At that moment, my blood ran cold. In his eyes, my daughter was nothing but an organ container.
He had no idea. All that talk about protecting his precious daughter—she wasn't even his.

"Daddy... so cold... and it hurts..." When my precious daughter Mia whispered these words in her weak voice, my heart felt like it was being torn apart.
The life-saving medicine was just ten meters away, but that damned anti-magic barrier had become an insurmountable chasm between life and death.
What made me even more furious was that the vampire guarding the gate not only extorted my life savings, but also demanded I kneel like a dog and lick his boots before he would open the door.
He didn't know that if the door stayed closed, it wouldn't just be my daughter who died—his son and mother would perish too!

My wife was a fearsome Mafia queen in Chicago.
On the anniversary of our daughter's death, she didn't show up.
When I arrived, the male college student she was keeping was trampling on my daughter's black-and-white portrait.
Instead of scolding him, my wife shielded him in her arms: "Marco was just a child, why are you arguing with him?"
She thought I would be like a dog, forever subservient to her for wealth and power, enduring her betrayal.
Until I discovered the true cause of my daughter's tragic death—
I simply pulled out a gun and pressed the muzzle against her forehead.

'One morning I am dreaming of a perfect ending with Talon Sinclair and the next morning I am walking down the aisle with his older brother, Jaxon Sinclair. A man who is not only 12 years older than me but promised to break me,'

Elizabeth Mitchell lost her parents at an early age in a tragic accident and was left homeless when her uncle seized their property and threw her out. Fortunately, her father’s best friend and his wife—the Sinclair family—took her in and cared for her.
But as soon as Elizabeth turned eighteen, the Sinclairs manipulated her into marrying their eldest son, Jaxon, who was not only short-tempered but also twelve years older than her. Elizabeth, who stood at just 5’3”, was in love with the Sinclair’s second son and had always fantasized about a life with him, but now she found herself forced to marry the heir of the family—a man with a patience even shorter than her height.
Jaxon Sinclair, raised by doting grandparents who indulged his every whim, had a troubled romantic past. Every girlfriend he had either fled from him or, tragically, took their own life. On his wedding day, his girlfriend didn’t show up, forcing him into a marriage arranged by his parents. The bride—Elizabeth—was everything he claimed to dislike: young, disorganized, slow, overly talkative, and, worst of all, in love with his younger brother. Deciding to have some fun, Jaxon resolved to torment Elizabeth until she fled like all the others.
But he never expected this little woman to have such patience—or the determination to tame him. Perhaps against all odds, she might succeed.
Yet what will happen when his brother begins to show interest in Elizabeth, and Jaxon’s former fiancée suddenly returns, determined to win him back?

"I said so how did you like being sheriff?"

She teased him a little bit sliding shorts down leaving nothing but her white cotton high rise panties.

She slid them down just enough to let her pussy poke through. A growl pushed from his chest, "Damn it little bear" She kicked her panties catching them in her hands. She tossed them right at his face as she walked off.

"I’m just treating you innocently like any of one my girl friends."

Faith-Anne had ran to college, to get away from Josh and the death of her mother. She was focused on anything but paying attention to the childhood crush that consumed her. she tries to respect his plea to just be friends and focus on raising her baby Jack. Yet seeing him just once set her heart a flame. She couldn't stop herself.