122 Book(s) Related to dante x lady

每次梅森想逼我让步，就把离婚协议拍在桌上。
　　每次父母想让我屈服，就威胁要跟我断绝关系。
　　他们想要的很简单：把一切都给我的双胞胎妹妹。
　　我曾经反抗过、哭过，也质问过，为什么受伤的总是我。
　　直到医生把检查结果推到我面前，用怜悯的语气告诉我：
　　“胰腺癌细胞扩散，你还有一个月，也许更短。”
　　我没什么可在乎的了，反正我死定了，他们想怎么样都行。

Seventy-two hours before my wedding, I stood in front of the fitting mirror at a bridal shop.

My best friend sent me a social media post, and the red exclamation mark in the message box stung my eyes sharply.

The post’s title read: Guys, my boyfriend is getting married to his current partner. What should I do?

The comment section had already erupted into chaos.
“Dude, are you out of your mind? You’re the other woman here!”
“You’re the homewrecker and you dare post this to get roasted? Where’s your shame?”

The poster was firing back furiously, every word oozing unapologetic madness:
“We’ve been inseparable since we were kids! His first love, first kiss, first time—all mine!”
“He doesn’t even like that old hag; he’s only marrying her out of obligation!”
“Who’s the real mistress, anyway?”

I should have swiped past it like a silly joke, but my gaze was locked onto the poster’s profile picture.

It showed two hands laced together. Peeking out from the man’s wrist was a dark green watch dial—a Richard Mille Valentine’s Day limited edition. It was the seven-figure engagement gift I’d bought him by selling my mother’s last precious heirloom, the only one of its kind in the world.

My heart was squeezed tight by an icy hand, plummeting to the bottom in an instant.

I tapped into the account’s homepage. The second my finger swiped open the photo album, a dizzying, world-spinning sensation crashed over me.

In the photos, the man holding the girl closely was none other than Lu Yanchen—my fiancé, who was supposed to marry me in three days.

I stared at the screen. All the wedding hopes and love I’d saved up over three years shattered into nothing but dust at this moment.

I couldn’t believe it, yet I had to. The man who’d loved me for three years and sworn to protect me forever had been lying to me from start to finish.

Xie Zhouyan was childhood sweethearts with my elder sister, and they had been betrothed to each other since they were little.

I had seen the normally woman-repelling Xie Zhouyan turn red with jealousy just because my sister smiled at someone else—he kissed her fiercely for a full hour.

Later, he was exiled to the northwest by his family, my sister ran away, and their engagement was annulled.

Only I followed him, without a second thought.

For those five years, I stayed with Xie Zhouyan in a basement, drank cheap liquor, and even took a knife cut for him.

In those darkest days, he held me and said I was his only light.
With tears in his eyes, he promised he would marry me the moment he rose to power again.

But one week before our wedding, my sister came back.

The second he heard she might be in danger, he threw all sense to the wind.

With me, eight months pregnant, in the car, he ran over a dozen red lights, speeding all the way to 120 miles an hour.

When we arrived, he stepped out of the car in long strides and never looked back.

Our enemies took the chance to ram the car—with me still inside—into a tree.

When I opened my eyes again, Xie Zhouyan’s eyes were bloodshot.

“Youyou, your sister hurt her leg. To calm her down, I’m marrying her next week.”

I touched my swollen belly and nodded.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a ceremony.”

I looked out the window. The sun was shining bright.

Spring had come.
And it was time for me to leave.

I drank myself into a stomach perforation, all to secure investment for Mu Jingshen's company.

As I was wheeled into the emergency room, blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. I heard a doctor shouting: "Where's the next of kin? We need a signature for surgery, now!"

My hands shaking violently, I dialed Mu Jingshen's number.
His contact was saved under "A Hubby", pinned to the very top of my contact list, just so I'd never miss a single call from him.

The call connected, and I forced out every last bit of my strength to speak, my voice weak and trembling:
"Jingshen, I need emergency surgery. Can you come sign the consent forms for me, please..."

But it wasn't his voice that came through the line. It was Shen Wanrong's, sweet and cloying: "Jiejie, Jingshen's busy giving Huanhuan a bath right now."

The sound of running water stopped.
I heard him ask who was on the phone.

Shen Wanrong spoke in a hurt, plaintive whine: "It's Jiejie... Jingshen, do you want to take the call? What if it's an emergency?"

But he just said, his voice flat and dismissive: "Ignore her. Nothing could ever be more important than being here for Huanhuan's birthday."

Huanhuan was Shen Wanrong's pet dog.

"Riccardo, please! I beg you!"
My water broke ten minutes ago. Warm liquid streamed down my legs and slowly froze into ice on the ground beneath me.
He stood on the other side of the bulletproof glass. In his eyes, there was not a trace left of the man I had once loved with all my heart.
In the Bellanona Mafia family, bloodline surpasses everything, and the hierarchy of age is an unyielding iron rule: the firstborn son shall inherit the entire underworld empire.
My sister-in-law Sofia and I were both pregnant, our due dates merely one day apart.
To make sure his elder brother’s child seized the succession right first, my husband coldly chose to sacrifice our own flesh and blood.
"My brother’s child must be born first." Riccardo’s voice came over the intercom, colder and more piercing than bitter winter wind. "This is what you owe them."
He had not only locked me inside this icy cellar. Just moments ago, his men pinned me down ruthlessly and injected a dose of medicine into my vein, solely to forcefully halt my labor.
Writhing in agony, I hugged my heavily pregnant belly tightly with both arms.
I could distinctly feel the little life inside me, once kicking and struggling relentlessly, growing fainter and fainter.
I’m sorry, my baby… Mommy is so sorry for you.

As the last stroke of the New Year bell rang,
I suddenly received a message from eight years ago:

“This is my first New Year with Zhou Guming!”
“I want to be with Zhou Guming forever!”
“I will play the piano for my whole life!”

At the same time, the news on TV was reporting:
On New Year’s Day,
my husband Zhou Guming was attending my best friend’s piano recital.

I looked down at my deformed fingers, bound by chains.
After cutting my wrist with a piece of iron I’d hidden for a long time,
I struggled to type one line:

“Lili, keep going forward. Don’t look back.”

On my daughter’s 100-day celebration, I found explicit messages between my husband and his secretary.
During our fight, he “accidentally” pushed me off the second floor, trapping me in a wheelchair forever.
He fired the secretary and cared for me personally, winning everyone’s praise and pity.
Only I knew he took secret late-night calls, his eyes full of disgust when he looked at me.
Until his mistress moved in, and my daughter screamed at me: “Just die.”
I smiled and pulled out a hidden voice recorder from my wheelchair.
Three years of silence, all for this moment.
James, your karma has come.

When the screen lit up, my heart stopped beating.
The woman twisting on the bed, breathless and flushed, was Rachel. The innocent girl we grew up with. The adopted sister I had fiercely loved and protected for over a decade.

And the hands claiming her body?
They belonged to my childhood sweetheart, Sebastian. On his finger glinted the very wedding band I had lovingly slipped onto his hand.

"I missed you so much..."
"You drive me crazy, baby..."

His hoarse moans coming through the speaker were agonizingly familiar. Those exact sweet whispers, the ones that used to make my heart flutter, now completely destroyed me.

To the outside world, we were the ultimate power couple. I ran his empire, exhausted myself to build his perfect life, while he bathed in everyone's envy. But who knew my flawless marriage was nothing but a sick, twisted lie?

Tears blurred my vision, but as the video ended, my sorrow morphed into something cold and lethal.

Sebastian thinks he is a master manipulator. He thinks he can have my loyalty while drowning in my sister’s bed.

Well, since he loves acting so much... I think it’s time I gave him a taste of my own performance.

Playtime is over. I am going to tear down his 'perfect husband' facade piece by piece, and I won't stop until I witness his total ruin.

"Call me brother," he whispered, pressing me against the wall, his erection hard against my stomach.
For twelve years, we played this dangerous game. By day, I was his obedient foster sister. By night, I was his obsession.
He never went all the way—saving me for marriage, he claimed—but he did everything else. His fingers knew every wet corner of my body. His mouth had tasted my pleasure a thousand times. He groomed me to be the perfect toy for his bed.
"You're mine, Julie. Only mine."
But then Lena came back.
Suddenly, the bedroom door was locked. Suddenly, I heard her screams of pleasure instead of mine.
He didn't touch me anymore. He looked at me with cold, dead eyes and said, "You're just a sister. Stop acting like a jealous lover."
He threw away twelve years of intimacy for a fresh body.
I packed my bags, leaving behind the lingerie he bought me, the toys we used.
When he finally realized Lena was a fake, he came running back, eyes wild, wanting to claim what he thought was still his property.
"Spread your legs for me, Julie," he begged, reaching for me.
I slapped his hand away. "Go fuck your sister, Daniel. I'm done."

Seven years of deep affection, expectations with a pregnant belly, and all I got was his betrayal in marriage and false promises. I gambled my youth and sincerity, only to end up with an absurd scam. After waking up, we owe each other nothing and will have no more ties.

My fiancé's "innocent" sister posted a photo wearing the sheer lingerie I bought for him, standing in the master bedroom of my new house. The caption read: "Finally have a place to take shelter. Thanks Lucas for the security." In the corner of her photo, my carefully chosen wedding portrait was thrown face-down on the hardwood floor.

I didn't scream or cry. I just quietly took a screenshot and dialed the number of my billionaire boss. "Mr. Allen, I'll take that overseas transfer." Since Lucas wanted to give another woman a home, I didn't want this wedding anymore.

The next day, I went to our new house. The passcode had been changed to her birthday. When I finally got in, she was sprawling on my leather sofa, demanding I leave because Lucas "owned half." I laughed, throwing the property deed right in her pale face. "Look closely at the name. You have ten minutes to pack your trash and get out, or I'm calling the cops for trespassing."

She ran away crying. I called a cleaning crew and threw out the bed, the sofa, and every single thing they had touched. Because you don't keep dead things, and in my heart, this eight-year relationship was already rotting in the grave. Will Lucas realize what he lost before it's too late?

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.

On my wedding day, instead of the romantic photo montage, I played a live video feed from the bridal suite.

The guests gasped. The screen didn't show our childhood photos. It showed my fiancé, Benjamin, pressing a woman in a white dress against the vanity.
It was my bridesmaid. My cousin. Mia.

"Benjamin, tell me," Mia giggled, wrapping her legs around his waist. "Do I look better in this white dress, or does your boring, frigid fiancée look better in her gown?"

The audio boomed through the silent ballroom.
Benjamin's voice was thick with lust. "She's a mannequin. You're my addiction. Why don't we do it right here? While she waits for me at the altar?"

My mother-in-law screamed. My father threw a glass.
But I stood there, calm. Cold.
I watched as Benjamin on the screen frantically unzipped Mia's dress, his hands roaming over her body, completely forgetting the woman waiting for him outside.

Benjamin rushed into the ballroom, realizing the silence was too heavy. He looked up at the giant screen, his face draining of color.
"Amelia! No! Turn it off! It's not what it looks like!"

I picked up the microphone.
"You're right, Benjamin. It's not what it looks like. It's exactly what it is."
I threw a folder of evidence—bank transfers, hotel receipts, printed texts—into his face.
"Mia graduated this year. You've been funding her for four. We've been together for five."

I tore off my veil and dropped it on the floor.
"The wedding is off. You two deserve each other."

Here is an adaptation crafted in the style of a bestselling contemporary Western psychological thriller or domestic drama hook, using fast-paced, high-tension American English:

For three years, I was the envy of Manhattan’s elite—the untouchable heiress with the flawless life.

My husband? The media constantly fawned over him, dubbing him "God’s gift to women" and the absolute epitome of a perfect gentleman.

Then came the video. The damn video that shattered it all.

Kneeling on the floor, wearing a thick leather collar like a pathetic stray, was the man I had loved deeply for years.

At the other end of the leash stood another woman, the stiletto of her red-soled Louboutin pressing ruthlessly into his cheek.

"Tell me, what are you?" she demanded.

"I'm Mistress Elena's dog," he whimpered. "I just want to get away from Sienna... I'm so sick of that suffocating bitch."

Every vow, every promise we ever made, instantly dissolved into a sick, twisted joke.

But instead of breaking down, I just smiled. And I hit save.

If he wanted to act like a dog so badly, I’d be more than happy to oblige. I was going to make sure he choked on that damn leash.

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.

She was sold to a man with six wives，she seduced them all.


The system was built to sell me off, so I married the one man who’d let me burn it down.My family picked the wrong girl to auction off for their debts. Sure, the offers rolled in from every rich, arrogant bore in the empire. But I’m not interested in being any man’s prize. My secret? I’m a lesbian and their laws forbid my heart. So, I chose the only player smart enough to make it interesting: Khalid al-Munsif, the legendary Falcon with six brilliant wives.

He doesn’t want a wife. He wants a strategist. And his palace wasn’t what I was expecting. It's a web of secrets, and each wife is a thread. My new mission? Learn their strengths. Unravel the conspiracies choking this kingdom. And maybe, just maybe, fall desperately in love with the sword-dancer whose smile is sharper than her blade.

They thought they could trap a wild thing. Big mistake. I don’t just break cages. I take them over.

They sold me to pay a debt. To a monstrous mafia lord. So I walked into a club and gave my body to a stranger first. My choice. My terms.

That stranger was beautiful. Dangerous. He saw the fire in me and called it magnificent. For one night, he was my sanctuary.

Turns out, my sanctuary has a name: Matteo. And he’s not some random man. He’s the son of the monster I’m supposed to marry. He offers me his protection, his understanding, his searing touch in the shadows. I hate him. I want him. I’m falling for him. We start an affair while hiding from his father.

Here’s the kicker: there is no monster. There’s only him.

Matteo is the Don. The debt, the fear, the wedding, was all his game. He lied to cage me. He played a role to break me. He thought he could own me.

He thought wrong.

Now he’s learning the truth: you shouldn’t trap a woman who’s already been forged in fire. You shouldn’t lie to someone who can see the cracks in every painted surface. And you definitely shouldn’t fall in love with the queen you tried to make a pawn.
The marriage is real. The war is on. And this time, I’m writing the rules.

Imagine being forced to marry a stranger.

Reina's only ever known her family's sunny farm. She can bake bread, mend a fence, and wrangle a goat but she’s never seen a skyscraper or used a subway. Her whole world changes when her grandfather’s old promise lands her in a penthouse with her new fiancé, Orion who looks at her like she’s a mud stain on his expensive shoe.

He’s a wealthy city prince who hates that he’s stuck with a country girl. She’s a whirlwind of chaos who invades his space, breaks his things and has no idea how stunning she is.

He’s counting down the days until he can send her home. She’s just trying to survive the city without embarrassing herself. There’s just one problem: the more she drives him crazy, the less he wants her to leave and the more he wonders if her kind of crazy is exactly what he needs.

But can a girl who talks to goats ever fit into his glittering world? And what happens when the simple farm girl starts to see the lonely man behind the money and decides to heal him, whether he likes it or not?

Let’s get one thing straight. I didn’t fall into this deal, I walked into it with my eyes wide open.

My boyfriend, Luke, is the absolute love of my life. He’s also the reason we owe a small fortune to a man who collects debts with a baseball bat who now sends his thugs to intimidate and threaten us.

So when the hauntingly handsome Valois Cavendish started appearing in my diner like a storm waiting to happen, I didn’t just notice, I calculated.

He watched me with a gaze that felt like a touch. I watched him back and saw a solution.

His offer was obscenely simple: one night with him, one million dollars, and our debt disappears. I told myself it was for Luke. A strategic sacrifice for the man I loved. A transaction and nothing more.

But let’s be real, Valois was never just a rich guy with too much time and cash. He was a door into a world I didn’t know existed, and the pull I felt toward him wasn’t just attraction. It was a revelation. I said yes to save Luke and I walked into that penthouse for the money.

I stayed for the way his presence rewired my very soul and made Luke’s touches feel like child’s play.

Now I’m caught between the man I’d die for and the one who makes me feel truly alive in a hidden world of ancient power where every choice has a price. I played the game to erase a debt. But the real cost? That might just be my heart.

Jake Anderson has been a singer/dancer for almost his entire life until he got his first break at the young age of seventeen. He as been a superstar now, for almost seven years and all his shows is sold out in a matter of hours. Then one night everything in his life change.

Layla Pierce never really knew what she wanted to do but she studied a few courses in beauty and fashion. She always felt kind of out of place. Then she got a job, by sheer chance as a consultant for the world famous superstar, Jake Anderson...

What secret is Jake hiding? Will Layla be able to breakthrough his steel exterior? What is really going on with Layla?

Join me on a rollercoaster ride that is call Jake and Layla

The Silverfang Pack lives deep in the whispering forests, where old werewolf shadows lurk. Trista Blackwood, formerly a beloved Luna, has her life devastated when her husband, Alpha Liam Silverfang, unexpectedly breaks their relationship for another. Trista is cast aside for Lucy, an intriguing omega from a rival pack, leaving her to deal with her shattered heart and a secret: she is carrying Liam's offspring.
Trista flees into the forest in search of comfort and protection, determined to shield her unborn twins from the turbulent world of werewolf politics. But the past won't let her go. As the years pass, her offspring, Aiden and Elara, mature and demonstrate extraordinary powers, hinting at a destiny connected with the fate of the pack.
Meanwhile, Liam is troubled by his decisions. Lucy, the new Luna, is not what she seems to be, and her influence causes the pack's cohesiveness to crumble. When echoes of an old prophecy emerge, claiming that a kind of mixed ancestry would bring peace or destruction, tensions mount among the werewolf community.
As the Silverfang Pack confronts internal and external dangers, Trista must choose between hiding and confronting the demons of her past. She sets out on a mission to recover her position and defend her family, aided by her devoted companion Hazel and the wisdom of the town seer Fiona.
In a story filled with love, treachery, and forgiveness, Trista and Liam must traverse a web of secrets and ancient prophecies to find their real allegiance. As the moon rises above the whispering woods, the pack's destiny hangs in the balance, as ghosts from the past threaten to swallow them all.

The plan was just to replace her best friend on her blind date. Could she have ever imagined this decision to become a new life begining of hers?

Escaping from this arrogant CEO who turned out to be her Boss seems to be impossible.

You lied to him, and he can send you to prison right away, The only way to get out of this mess is to accept his proposal.

A contract Marriage with A Baby involved and No feelings attached. How long until the feelings becomes unquenchable?