586 Book(s) Related to he 100 books

Felicia believed her marriage to Wilson was a perfect love story—until one day everything shattered when she discovered that her husband was having an affair with another woman. Her heart broke, and her pride was deeply wounded. In anger and desperation, Felicia made a decision she had never imagined before: to repay betrayal with betrayal.
On a night filled with overwhelming emotions and alcohol, Felicia accidentally bumped into a stranger. That unexpected encounter turned into a single night that would change her life forever.
A few weeks later, Felicia was shocked to discover that she was pregnant.
But the real shock came when she learned the man’s true identity—he was the husband of the woman who had been having an affair with Wilson, her own husband.

I’m married to a stranger… and I slept with the wrong billionaire.
My name is Elara Ashford.
I’m the adopted daughter the Ashfords sacrificed to save their precious biological child.
Four years ago, the family faced ruin, on the edge of bankruptcy.
A mysterious benefactor stepped in—saving them in exchange for a contract marriage with me.
Rumors said he was hideously ugly, reclusive, too ashamed to show his face.
For four years, he never asked to meet.
I grieved the baby I lost, painted in silence, and waited for our deal to end.
Now, the final year is here.
My unknown husband demands we meet face-to-face.
But things happened earlier than expected? I crash into him at the Serpentine Gallery, paint splattering his Tom Ford suit.
He flips open my sketchbook… and freezes.
That drawing? One I had made in grief for my son, who I had lost — and yet it was identical to his son, Cassian.
The man whose child I drew from grief.
And he is my mysterious contract husband.

I thought I was the happiest woman in the world... until I clicked on that video.

The moment the screen lit up, my entire world came crashing down.

The woman on the bed was Calista - that girl who grew up with us since we were kids. And that hand caressing her skin was wearing the wedding ring I had personally put on Matteo's finger.

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

Those sweet words I knew so well completely destroyed me.

Everyone said we were the perfect couple, but who knew this marriage was built on nothing but lies?

Since he's so good at acting, I guess it's time I gave him a show of my own. I'm going to make sure everyone sees what this "perfect husband" really is...

I was always the extra daughter in the Cross family.
To my parents, I was nothing more than a walking blood bank for Clara. To my husband Adrian, I was a sinner who needed to atone for her crimes.
When Adrian forced me to donate a kidney to my sister, I agreed.
Not only did I agree, I liquidated every asset I owned and transferred it all to my research lab.
They thought I was stupid, thought I was still desperate for their love.
But all I was doing was putting my affairs in order.
The night before the surgery, I coughed up blood all over the table.
Adrian sneered over the phone. "Cut the act, Evelyn. You'll do anything to dodge responsibility. You just want attention—how pathetic."
The surgery was a "success."
My sister got the kidney she'd always wanted.
And I died in the recovery room.
My soul floated above my body as I watched Adrian walk into the hospital room, that patronizing smile on his face, ready to put on his "repentant husband" act.
"Eve, I know you've been hurt. Let's start over..."
The only answer he got was a white sheet pulled over my face.

I built Elias’s billion-dollar FinTech core system from the ground up. We once endured countless late nights in a basement, vowing to stick together. After the IPO, he grew obsessed with his fragile step-sister Mia. He shared my confidential code with her, ignored my pregnancy emergency, and lost our baby while comforting her. He even erased the secret love note I hid on page three of our architecture. Months later, his business crumbled, and he begged me for forgiveness with diamonds and his CEO resignation. But every chance he had is gone. I’ve built my own thriving tech company, and I’m never coming back.

In my previous life, on the night of our wedding anniversary, my husband Bryan brought his pregnant mistress, Victoria, into our home. Driven to the edge, I slashed my wrists to force him to kick her out.
No one could have predicted her blood sugar would suddenly crash in the freezing storm outside. She collapsed into a flooded ditch and froze to death before anyone found her.
Everyone ruled it a tragic accident, but Bryan decided her blood was on my hands.
Months later, when I went into labor, he abused his position as my doctor to deliberately delay my care. He left me to writhe through dozens of hours of agonizing contractions and severe hemorrhaging until I bled out.
When, with hands slick with my own blood, I begged him to save our baby, he calmly peeled off his soiled surgical gloves. The look in his eyes was merciless.
"Heartbroken?" he sneered. "Good. Take the brat down to hell with you to keep Victoria company."
An icy, suffocating darkness swallowed me whole.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact night of our anniversary—the very moment Bryan, bringing the freezing rain in with him, protectively guided Victoria through my front door.

My sister Chiara and I had fought over Matteo for more than a decade.

In my first life, I got my wish and married him. Everyone said he adored me, trusting me to manage the entire Salvatore family's books and money laundering operations. I worked myself to death, literally dying from exhaustion. On my deathbed, he coldly told me the truth: "I never loved you. You're the one who begged to marry me."

In my second life, I let Chiara have her chance. She bore him four children in five years, trying desperately to earn his love, only to die in childbirth. I rushed to her bedside for her final moments, and she cried out to me: "Matteo doesn't love me either... there's another woman in his heart..."

When I opened my eyes again, it was my third life.

This time, we would NOT make the same mistakes.

My serpent mate has locked me in the castle, nine months pregnant. A dozen serpent guards watch me day and night. I can't even leave the room.

A month ago, his brother died in a hunting accident. He became the serpent clan leader. Then he brought back his brother's widow, the woman he grew up with. His first love.

He said he needed to take care of his brother's widow. He told me we'd all live together in the castle, nice and peaceful.

I said no.

I'm his mate. I'm a beastman. My pride won't let me accept that. And they grew up together, childhood sweethearts. How could I not think about it?

She came to him in tears, heavily pregnant. She said I poisoned her medicine, that I wanted to kill her and the baby.

He believed her.

He decided I was just some rogue beastman with no background, jealous and vicious, only after his title and money. So he locked me in this freezing castle while he camped outside her delivery room.

When labor hit, I screamed for a healer. I swore I never hurt her. I just couldn't live with her under the same roof. I only ever loved him.

He just laughed. "You're good at acting. I don't believe a word out of you. Once she delivers safely, I'll deal with you. Don't think you can trick me into coming back."

But when a trembling guard reported "Your mate and the child... they didn't make it," he lost it completely.

I'm dead.

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

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

My dog died. So I jumped into Black Lake.

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

Too bad it was already too late.

Three months after my miscarriage, at the celebration dinner he hosts for my "recovery," he tells his partners in French, "She's just a trophy wife. Doesn't understand basic business."

"What about that new assistant? The twenty-two-year-old?"

"So much smarter," he laughs. "And in bed? Way more exciting."

They think I don't understand. To everyone here, I'm just the stay-at-home wife who gave up her VP position at an investment bank to play house.

They don't know I minored in French. I spent a full year studying abroad at the Sorbonne.

As I lay in the operating room, bleeding out from the miscarriage, he was already seeing her.

Je comprends tout. I understand everything.

Over the champagne and candlelight, I smile at him.

He has no idea this is the last time he'll ever see it.

On our wedding night, my husband wanted to play a game.
Trade secrets. The kind that could destroy you if they ever got out.
He went first.
"I hurt a girl once. At a ski lodge. She shouldn't have been in that room. But she was."
He said it like a parking ticket. Then he took a sip of whiskey and moved on.
My turn.
"I killed someone," I said. "Do you believe me?"
He laughed. He thought I was joking.
He really shouldn't have kissed me after that.

For three years, she was the invisible wife in a marriage of convenience, her quiet love met only with his cold indifference. Now, with her departure date set, the photos of him with his true love are the final proof she needs to walk away forever.

Her bags are packed, her future is hers alone. She plans to vanish without a trace, leaving behind only a signed divorce paper.

He never saw her—until he found her closet empty and his world unraveling. The man who took her for granted is now in a desperate race against time, tormented by a single question: Can he undo his greatest mistake, or has he already lost the one person who truly mattered?

I smile like someone on the edge of violence. "Oh, that's what you're worried about? Relax, I planned for this. I worked overtime for months. All three jobs approved my time off. My bills are paid. My cats are fed. My soul is moisturized. I'm free, Mike."
He shakes his head slowly. "Yeah… no. I can't take you with me."
"What did you just say?" I ask, suddenly forgetting how to breathe through my nose.
"You can't come," he repeats, avoiding my eyes.
I cross my arms. "You promised, Mike. Two years ago, you said you weren't qualified. Then you got promoted, but last year, you went alone. You said you'd take me this year. You promised."
"You need to understand me, dear. I already promised to take someone else. I can't break my word."
"Oh. But you can break your word to me?"
"You're my future wife," he says, tone so rational I want to scream. "We're getting married in six months. You should be understanding, Winter. Do you really want your husband to look bad in front of people?"
I stare at him like he's grown two extra heads. "Mike. Who are you taking?"
He doesn't flinch. "Your cousin, Olivia."


Winter thought the worst thing was being replaced with her cousin… until she crashed the company's luxury retreat, almost drowned, and woke up pretending to have amnesia—right in front of the man who humiliated her.
Now she's stuck playing fake fiancée and sharing a room with a sexy stranger who clearly hates her guts… but can't stop staring at her lips like he wants to ruin her.
With an ex who suddenly cares way too much, her dream career on the line, and revenge heating up faster than the resort's hot tubs, Winter is about to turn heartbreak into the most unforgettable comeback of the year.
But there's just one twist: her fake fiancé is actually the new billionaire chairman of the company… and he's falling for her, hard.

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the duct tape binding my wrists, and the second was that I had been kidnapped by a billionaire mafia boss who grabbed the wrong girl.

I would like to say my first reaction was brave, but it was mostly just panic. I was shoved into a massive stone mansion—the kind with gold columns and chandeliers the size of cars. If I was going to be kidnapped, I honestly expected something a little less... expensive.

I was dragged into a room full of terrifying men in suits. That’s when he walked in. Adrian DeLuca. Tall, broad-shouldered, with intense green eyes and a calmly dangerous physique that made everyone else in the room freeze. He was the CEO of Kidnapping, and annoyingly attractive. He stared at me, his sharp jawline tight, and said calmly, "This isn’t the Viper’s daughter. Who is this?"

I exhaled. "Well, you kidnapped me by mistake. Can I go home now? I have tuition to pay."

But Adrian didn't laugh. He stepped closer, his presence suffocatingly powerful. He had run a background check. "Your mother's maiden name is Volkov," he whispered, his eyes dark with a lethal promise. "The woman we intended to kidnap is the Viper’s daughter... and so are you."

My brain stalled. My absentee father was a ruthless crime lord?

"You are useful to me now," Adrian commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You will remain in this house. You will go where I tell you, and you will do what I tell you."

I glared at him. "You don't own me!"

He leaned in, his breath brushing my ear. "I do now."

At seventy-two, Richard Hayes finally asked my mother for a divorce.

He thought he was setting himself free.

He did not know Eleanor Hayes had been waiting ten years for him to say the words.

By sunset, his new woman would be calling my mother cruel.

By winter, he would be standing on her porch with two suitcases and nowhere soft to land.

And my mother, who had spent nearly half a century opening doors for him, would finally learn how peaceful a locked door could sound.

Chloe wasted ten years loving arrogant Zane. To win a Porsche bet, he publicly humiliated her, taking her devotion for granted. Finally awake, she cut him off and rebuilt herself as a brilliant top-university elite.
After losing her, Zane drowned in regret, begging desperately for her forgiveness. But it was too late. Chloe met the wealthy, gentle genius Liam, who healed all her wounds. Zane gambled with her heart—and lost her forever.

At the Eternal Night Realm admission ceremony, Carly suddenly grabs my hand.

My heart pounds. I think he is going to announce our relationship to the entire continent.

Instead, he says, "Eve, thanks for everything these past five years. But Lym didn't make the cut. She's hurting right now, and I need to go back and be there for her."

He crushes the realm token right in front of thousands of people.

For five years, I hid my pureblood lord identity. I drained my magic until I literally coughed up blood, quietly paving every step of his way.

I thought we loved each other. I thought after this ceremony we would rise to the top together.

But his casual thanks for everything crushes five years of my devotion into dust.

What is even more laughable is that the moment the online backlash hits Lym, he calls me on the comms.

"Eve! You need to put out a statement to clear this up right now! As my friend, you owe me this!"

Friend?

My hand holding the crystal shakes.

I tried twenty times to finalize my betrothal with Caius for our overseas fellowship, but accidents kept hurting me. I thought it was fate’s test—until I heard him admit he planned it all. He wanted another girl, using my pain to make me quit, all to keep his reputation clean. Now awake, I ended this lie for good.

At the Met Gala, I heard my husband tell his friends in French that I'm "boring." That his 22-year-old girlfriend is "so much more exciting in bed."

He laughed when they asked if I knew. "Elle ne comprend même pas 'bonjour'." (She doesn't even understand 'bonjour'.)

What Marcus doesn't know: I spent two years at the Sorbonne.

Je comprends tout, Marcus. I understand everything.

The diamond necklace he gave me after my miscarriage suddenly feels too tight. I smile at him across the champagne and candlelight.

He has no idea what's coming.

I've caught my fiancé Henry cheating ninety-nine times. And every single time, I forgave him.

That's because I have this rare condition—short-term memory loss. Every morning, I wake up with no memory of what happened the day before.

But then, out of nowhere, a car accident actually cured me.

I was so excited. I rushed over to tell Henry the good news, but stopped cold when I heard him outside the door, joking around with his friends:

"Didn't Judy get sick because she walked in on you and Kenna having sex?"

After my eighth trip to the psychiatric ward, I finally became the perfect, obedient wife my husband always wanted—even when I caught his childhood friend giving him a handjob in our living room.

"Ever heard of knocking?" Eric snapped, his eyes dark with irritation. "If those hands are useless, might as well chop them off." Without a word, I grabbed a kitchen knife and raised it toward my wrist. He kicked it away, screaming at me to stop being dramatic. So, I turned and charged headfirst toward the floor-to-ceiling window.

When I woke up, I heard him laughing with her. "She's fine. Just another attention stunt." He didn't know that the "treatment" he authorized had broken my mind into a million jagged pieces. He didn't know about the shock collars, the waterboarding, the dark cells. He thought I was finally "cured" of my jealousy.

It wasn't until a rafting trip, when his friend pushed me into the rapids and my prosthetic eye popped out and rolled across the deck, that his world shattered. As he stared at the empty black socket where my left eye used to be, he finally realized what those facilities had done to me. He dropped to his knees, screaming my name, but the woman who loved him was already dead.

Will his tears be enough to bring back the wife he destroyed, or is this just the beginning of his hell?

After the apocalypse began, my husband's female assistant stole my viral experiment data for the ninth time. I couldn't take it anymore and confronted her publicly.
My husband said I was just jealous of her, punished me by making me apologize to her in front of everyone, and demoted me.
Later, he sweet-talked me, promising compensation.
The next day, his true love showed up at the lab wearing his family heirloom necklace.
"François felt so bad about me being falsely accused yesterday that he gave me his family necklace."
"I heard this necklace is supposed to go to his wife. Oh, Andrea, you're not mad, are you?"
I just smiled. "Not mad at all. Trash belongs with trash—you two are perfect for each other."
François immediately snapped, "It's just a necklace. No need to be so nasty about it."
"Apologize to Caro right now, or I'll kick you out of the lab and divorce you!"
Watching François defend Caro, I didn't get angry at all.
Once I'm gone, his zombie virus research won't get anywhere.

My husband was a vampire lord, bound by a blood oath to the Elders. Forbidden from ever completing a mate bond.
But he bonded with me anyway. Every time he felt something for me, the oath punished him — ten minutes of agony. He endured it ninety-nine times and told me it was worth it.
To prove it, he carved a mark into my collarbone with his own blood. A promise: if I was ever in danger, he'd come for me. No matter what.
Then the Crimson Blight came — an ancient death curse, meant for another woman. His precious, fragile Elowen. And instead of letting it take her, he transferred it onto me.
I woke up chained in the sealed chamber beneath our own manor, blood core burning from the inside out. When I couldn't take any more, I activated his mark and reached through the bond for help.
I heard his voice. But he wasn't talking to me.
"She's a Blood Hunter. She can take it. She should bear this for me."
He didn't know I was three months pregnant with his child.

Lilith Mendez is the Cupid of the city and owner of The Billionaire Matchmaking Agency. She’s known for her professionalism, attention to detail, and discretion.
But her dating life is abysmal until an alluring stranger enters her life.
Despite the warning bells, she considers opening herself up to the possibility of romance…until things go awry. She’s found herself in the wrong situation with a powerful and dangerous man.
Rescued by Cristo, her friend and billionaire-in-shining-armor, Lilith's tempted by his assurances of protection and passion.
In this tangled web of deception, lies, and broken promises, what can Lilith do when the promise of relief makes her want so much more?

A cocky Scot, an innocent pole dancer and a penthouse apartment with a view.

What could go wrong?

To escape her difficult past Sasha jumps into an opportunity of managing the sale of the stylish,up market apartment.

All of this sounds like a dream, but no one has ever mentioned the arrogant, mouthy Scottish god that lives next door.

The problem is that Dexter isn’t just good looking, he is also a fist-clenching, heart-pounding, fervent hot man, who makes her heart flutter uncontrollably.

She hates his cock-sure attitude.

With the talent, of melting women’s panties off at a glance, he thinks he can have Sasha too. Well, he couldn’t be more wrong. Sasha would rather eat dirt than sleep with him.

He vows not to fall for her, but their scorching attraction proves impossible to ignore…

When dragons call, only the brave answer.

"Inside you will face the deadly minotaurs, armed with blades and protected by magic. "

"Danger number two is man-eating monsters. "

"Your final threat today is each other."

Icy dread crackles through my veins.

“Nearly one hundred have gathered today to test the fates and risk their lives, but only five can become Slayers.”

This year, it’s win or die.


Anara refuses to be defined by her past. As the queen’s favored maid, nobody expects her to enter the deadly Slayer Trials. Desperate for redemption, she’s determined to slay the ultimate dragon—the silver king himself.

Or die trying.

Except the Slayer Trials test Anara in ways she could never have imagined. Danger is as ravenous for death as the dragons themselves, enemies hide among friends and shadows. And an unexpected specter from her past appears, Prince Zaries. His hatred of her is understandable, her crime against him unforgivable. Her draw to him is a complication she doesn’t need.

Nor is the secret she harbors, an inexplicable affinity towards the very creatures she's sworn to destroy.

Ultimately, Anara's enigmatic connection to dragons will be her strength or her greatest vulnerability. It will challenge her resolve and reshape her destiny.

And the fate of Amaranthine and the unknown worlds beyond.

“Inside you will face the deadly minotaurs, armed with blades and protected by magic.
Danger number two is man-eating monsters.

“Your final threat today is each other.”

Icy dread crackles through my veins.

“Nearly one hundred have gathered today to test the fates and risk their lives, but only five can become Slayers.”

This year, it’s win or die.

Ten years ago, Mara's older brother disappeared just outside of their hometown. With no clues, everyone believed that he'd just run off. But Mara knew better. She vowed to continue the search.

Despite being called crazy, she believed the local legend about a portal to another world. The Old Oak Archway.

Now, after all these years, Mara has found a way through.

What she didn't expect was to find on the other side was her brother living happily with the Golden Draygons.

Suddenly, Mara is claimed by the King and the portal is closed. She is stuck on a planet filled with dragons and thrust into a struggle for power everywhere she turns.

But, Tohr is determined to win her hand and her heart to keep her with him. Mara quickly learns that when a Draygon makes up his mind, he will stop at nothing to make it happen.

Adults Only, Explicit Scenes, Extreme Violence, Hot Dragon Shifters
The Book of Mara is created by Leann Lane, an E-Global Creative Publishing Signed Author.

Read this as a stand alone or after reading My Wild Phase.

He pressed a finger against my lips.
"Hush."
His hair was still damp from his shower. Falling over his forehead like strands of gold.
He smelled amazing.
Clean skin, whiskey, and something that was uniquely him. Something musky with a hint of rain.
His lips trailed down my body, leaving kisses everywhere they touched. His tongue followed, dragging heat across my skin until he settled between my legs.
My breath caught.
He pressed soft kisses to my inner thighs.
For a moment he simply looked at me.
His gaze lingered over my body. His lips twitched at my shaved pussy.
His lips parted like he was about to say something.
Instead, he lowered his head.
The first touch of his tongue made my entire body jerk.
A helpless sound escaped me. His tongue thrust into me, hungry, needy.
My hips rolled against him automatically.
Like I had no control over my own body anymore.

Look for The Book of Owen and The Book of Jason

I was dying — and he was loving someone else.
I left.
Now he wants me back… but will I let him?

Omega Lyra, once betrothed to Alpha Kyle, is forced to sew his new Luna’s wedding dress.
On the wedding eve, an out-of-control Kyle violates her; the chaos that follows kills the bride, and Lyra is falsely branded a murderer.
Kyle binds Lyra as his nominal Luna to torment her—for three years, she endures mockery and isolation, finding solace only in late-night piano playing.
His coldness and closeness to the late Luna’s sister Rhea shatter her hope.
Humiliated at Kyle’s birthday banquet, Lyra demands to end their bond.
Fleeing, she awakens hidden Alpha powers but is attacked by rogues—Beta Darren, who secretly cares for her, saves her.
Now, Lyra must evade Kyle’s family, find her lost sister, and fight for a place in the wolf world, turning her painful escape into a journey of redemption.

He filled my head with lies.
Then he set my world on fire.

Gavril Vaknin.
Richer than God.
Crueler than the devil.

And if he has his way…
My new fake husband.

A chance meeting turns into a once-in-a-lifetime offer.
The billionaire don needs a blank slate to turn into his perfect politician’s wife.
I’m homeless and desperate—what do I have to lose?

But Gavril is hiding secrets. Cloaked in lies.
Stepping into his world is a one-way ticket to a hell I won’t survive.

Did I do the right thing?
Or did I just sell my soul to a monster?

On the anniversary of my mother's death, Thomas promised he'd come pay his respects with me. I waited at the cemetery all day, only to see media reports of him vacationing with his first love.

Everyone assumed Thomas had a secret child with her. That they were about to get married.

And me? His actual wife?

I went home, left the divorce papers on the table, and burned our marriage certificate.

The first thing they took was my baby.

The second was my parents.

The third was my freedom, my eyes, and every reason to live.

My husband gave me to three men on our anniversary. He chained me in a doghouse while his mistress laughed. He fed me my own son’s remains and called it mercy.

He said I was dirty. He said I deserved it.

But the DNA test he trusted was a lie. The video was staged. And the woman he’s about to marry is the one who destroyed us all.

I tried to die. Four times.

Now I’m done trying.

They put a dead woman in the ground. They’re about to find out she brought hell back with her.

She woke up naked, bound, and on display in a birdcage.

Her husband sat in the front row while strangers bid on her unborn son's organs. He believed the video. The DNA test. The other woman's lies.

They took her baby. They took her mother. They tried to take her mind.

So she let them think she was broken. She smiled through the electric shocks. She bent without breaking. She counted down to the surgery that was supposed to kill her.

But she wasn't counting down to her death.

She was counting down to theirs.

They wanted her heart?

She'll give it to them—still beating, as she becomes their judge, jury, and executioner.

Dark Revenge Romance. CW: non-con, graphic violence, pregnancy loss, captivity. Read with caution.

“I’ll give you anything, Elsa—money, a car, a house, jewelry—just agree to the transplant. Ria really needs it.” I couldn’t believe his audacity. Was this really my husband, trying to bargain my body to save his fiancée?
“Sorry, I’m pregnant. I can’t donate a kidney,” I said, my voice shaky but determined. Anger boiled inside me, but I knew he was powerful. The pretend marriage was over, and his true colors were revealed. Afraid of what he might do to me, I didn’t yell or fight him. I just wanted to escape this nightmare, to break free from this cage I was trapped in.
But his reaction was even more chilling. He looked at me with no emotion.
“We’ll have an abortion.” His words hit me like a bomb. I couldn’t believe how coldly he spoke about ending his own child’s life.

My marriage to Matthew was a transaction, a substitute—everything except love. When his white moonlight came back, I was abandoned, diagnosed with gastric cancer, and carrying his child. His late regret could never bring back my life, nor could it keep our unborn baby.

Twenty-one times.

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

And dissolved it twenty-one times.

Not because we didn't love each other.

But because every few months, she comes back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until the twenty-first time.

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

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

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

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

No heartbeat.

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

Not once.

The twenty-first dissolution was my choice.

There won't be a twenty-second.

I died on the day my fiancé Song Jinnian got engaged to his white moonlight, Shen Zhiyi.

Shen Zhiyi wore the evening dress designed by Song Jinnian himself, smiling sweetly as she linked her arm through his, accepting blessings from every guest in the hall.

I was at the scene of a car crash on Highway 23, half a steel rebar piercing straight through my chest. Warm blood trickled down the cold metal, pooling into a stark, glaring red pool beneath me.

I called Song Jinnian seventeen times.

He hung up instantly on the first sixteen.

On the seventeenth ring, he finally answered.

The melodic music of the banquet hall hummed in the background. His voice was low, laced with unbridled impatience: “What’s your problem now? How many times do I have to say it—marrying Zhiyi is just a formality. Can’t you act your age and quit this nonsense?”

I tried to speak, but blood froth surged up my throat, stealing my ability to form a full sentence. All I heard was the busy tone as he hung up without a second thought, echoing in the empty car, one beep at a time, shattering my last shred of hope.

Song Jinnian would never know that the girl he dismissed as a spoiled, tantrum-throwing lady was pinned to the driver’s seat by that steel rebar.

Beneath my slightly bulging abdomen lay our two-month-old unborn child.

Trembling, I let go of the phone soaked in blood. With my final ounce of strength, I dialed the funeral home.

“Hello. Near Highway 23… please come collect a body from a car crash.”

A pause came from the other end, followed by the routine question:

“Who are you to the deceased?”

All around me, only the rain hammered against the car windows, and my breath grew fainter and fainter. I forced out my last words:

“I am… the deceased herself.”

On the day of the clan’s grand sea banquet, my mafia husband Victor took his beloved white moonlight Lilia to race jet skis in restricted sea waters without permission.
She twisted the throttle all the way open, and the jet ski crashed violently into the my luxury yacht.
The yacht quickly flooded and began sinking, yet Victor completely ignored the people screaming for help on board, only clinging tightly to the terrified Lilia and comforting her softly.
"Don’t be afraid. They trespassed into the restricted sea zone of their own accord; they deserve everything that happened to them."
Not until the entire yacht sank deep into the ocean and everyone aboard vanished without a trace did Victor dial my phone unhurriedly.
"Vera, your mom and Dante are gone in the sea."
In an instant, overwhelming terror swallowed me whole.
The very next second, I saw Mom shoving freshly cooked meat into my mouth just as she did when I was a child.
My brother hurried over with a grin to snatch a bite.
"Mom, you always favor my sister."
They are standing right beside me. Then who on earth was trapped inside that sunken yacht?

Ryan loves me deeply—at least that's what everyone says. Seven years together, we look like the perfect couple to outsiders. But only I know he's betrayed me three times.

The first time was three years ago. His brother died saving him, leaving behind his widow Sophia—Ryan's unforgettable first love. He married her behind my back. When I found out, I completely fell apart. I have dignity. I refuse to be the other woman. I wanted to leave, but he begged on his knees. "This is just to take care of my sister-in-law. Once I find the truth about my brother's death, I'll divorce her. Then we can get married."

I believed him. I forgot that a man never lets go of a lost love he's gotten back.

The second time was at last year's company anniversary. In front of everyone, he introduced Sophia as his wife. I watched them on stage, a knife through my heart. That night he explained, "It's just for show. Once everything's over, we can be together."

I believed him again.

The third time was two weeks ago. Surveillance footage showed Ryan with Sophia entering a hotel room. I rushed to confront him, but heard her voice outside his office. "Ryan, I'm pregnant. It's your baby."

Through the crack in the door, I see him hesitate. In that instant I understand.

He's going to keep her.

He spots me and rushes out in a panic. "It was an accident! Let me explain! After she has the baby, I'll give her money and make her leave. She won't be in our lives anymore!"

In that moment, I finally wake up. There will be no future for us.

The mafia boss chose me as his decoy—a body double for the woman he loves.

Eight years. Three bullets, one car crash, one explosion. The doctor said ten more minutes and I would've died on that operating table when they took my kidney. I gave him a son. He let me play "the boss's wife" in public.

Until he cleared every obstacle for her and decided to marry her.

Her wedding photos replaced mine in the master bedroom. He has her initials tattooed on his arm. When I questioned him, he had his men slap me at a charity gala, forced me to admit "I'm just a stand-in." When I touched her, he took away my custody, declared she was "the true lady of this house."

The punishments got worse. When he threatened to cancel my mother's insurance, I finally learned to shut up.

He pulls me close, whispers in my ear: "She gave up everything for me. Not like you—you were born to take bullets for me."

"Deal with it. She's not replacing you. This is her house now."

Even my son took her side.

"Stop being dramatic! Natalie actually loves us! You're nothing!"

But their pure, innocent Natalie? She unplugged my mother's ventilator while I was locked in the basement. Let his enemies slip poison into my drink during the last job.

When Grayson found me, all he said was: "She's pregnant and emotional. Go rearrange the flowers at the wedding venue."

I wipe the black blood from my lips. Look at him quietly.

"I'm dying."

In my past life, I exposed my cousin Isolde's deadly secret just to save Darius from absolute ruin, binding myself to him in a Soul Pact instead.

My reward?

At three months pregnant, Darius chained me to a water dungeon altar, carved my stomach open alive, and smashed our unborn child to pieces right in front of my eyes—all as a twisted sacrifice to my cousin who supposedly "died for love."

When I opened my eyes again, I was right back at the Pact Selection Ceremony.

Watching him pull her into his arms like some priceless treasure, I simply smiled and took a tactful step back.

In this life, I am going to sit back and watch the two of them burn in hell together.

For years, I believed a rival family had stolen my children. Four of them — two baby boys, then my newborn twins. Every time, my husband wept. He swore revenge. He held me while I screamed myself sick.
Tonight I went down to the basement looking for him. The door was open a crack. He was kissing another woman.
"I threw both incubators off the cliff myself," he laughed. "Didn't even blink."
He killed all four. To clear a path for his mistress's son.
He runs the family now. He thinks grief has broken me — that I'll spend the rest of my life crying in the bed we shared.
He forgot one thing. I'm the old don's daughter. This family was never his.
It's mine.

They called me a hellcat. A she-wolf tyrant. The Luna who made her Alpha husband obey.
I held him together when his father died. Built his dying pack into a powerhouse while he flirted with she-wolves.
Then he brought home his "fated mate."
Everyone waited for me to explode.
Instead, I smiled. "I'll help you prepare the ceremony."
That's when my wolf—dormant for years—began to wake.

Maya froze when the man who drew every eye in the room walked in. Her ex-boyfriend, who‘d vanished five years ago, was now one of Boston’s richest tycoons. Back then, he’d never hinted at his identity—then he’d disappeared without a trace. Seeing his cold gaze now, she could only assume he’d hidden the truth to test her, decided she was vain, and left in disappointment.

Outside the ballroom, she went to him as he smoked by the door, wanting to at least explain herself.

“Are you still angry with me?”

He flicked the cigarette away and looked at her with open contempt. “Angry? You think I’m angry? Let me guess—Maya finally finds out who I am and now she wants to ‘reconnect.’ Another chance now that she knows my last name comes with money.”

When she tried to deny it, he cut in. “You were a blip. A footnote. If you hadn’t shown up tonight, I wouldn’t have remembered you.”

Tears stung her eyes. She almost told him about his daughter, but stopped. He’d only think she was using the child to trap him and get his money.

Maya swallowed everything back and left, certain they would never cross paths again—only for him to keep appearing in her life, until he was the one lowering himself, humbly begging her to take him back.

“How cruel of you! You were the one who left when I was ready to fight for you. I searched the world for you, and now that I found you, you were betrothed to another man. Tell me how! How do I unlove you?”
Tears fall from both our eyes and the next thing we know, we are kissing each other, deeply and passionately, as if the two years of longingness for each other has finally been released.
_
Avery Anderson called "Ava" who is still a virgin in her early thirties is a career-oriented woman. She puts up her own business through her hard work and is envied by a lot of women because of her seven-year-long relationship with Seigfried Cohen, a hot bachelor in an accounting firm. Their relationship starts to fall apart as they get into a heated argument because of Ava's unfathomable sexual drive.
Determined to lose her virginity, she travels to Austria to unwind and get laid to whoever finds her attractive. There, she encounters a guy named Dmitri, a gorgeous sexy billionaire: an encounter that shouldn't have happened in the first place.
She will then, know a world, that she never expects to get addicted to.

Aurelia has spent three years in a loveless marriage, holding on to a man who was already slipping away. She thinks it can't get worse until his first love returns.
He divorces her without hesitation. He doesn't know she's pregnant. Alone, heartbroken, and with nowhere to go, Aurelia is hit by a car.
She wakes up to three powerful billionaire brothers claiming her as their long-lost sister, and they take her away from the life that broke her.
Five years later, Aurelia is no longer the woman he abandoned. She runs AURELIA, a global luxury fashion empire. Untouchable, cold, and emotionally closed off.
So when her ex-husband walks back into her life, begging for another chance, she doesn't hesitate. "Unless it's business, you don't exist to me."
And when he discovers he has a son, he tries to claim him. The child looks at him without recognition and says, "My father is dead. I only have my mummy and my uncles."
For the first time, Dominic is forced to face the full weight of what he lost. Now, the man who once threw her away is the one begging to stay. But Aurelia doesn't believe in second chances. And this time, walking away might not be his choice.

My husband handed me divorce papers at 2 AM—right after he'd had his way with me. Three years of marriage, and he never once believed I was anything but a scheming woman who trapped him. He said he wanted his real love back. I said I wanted our daughter.
He laughed and told me I couldn't afford to raise her alone.
He was right about one thing: I needed money. So I took the only job that could change everything. He showed up at the presentation as the client. When he saw my work, his face went pale. He accused me of plagiarizing a famous designer—the very genius who had saved his company years ago.
He has no idea.
That genius is me.
And he's about to find out exactly who he just let go.

Will a man learn to love me if I’m good to him long enough?

I tried for seven years to warm his heart.
I thought if I just held on a little longer, he’d finally see me.
Because I loved him so deeply.

But what did I get in return?
His endless tenderness for another woman.
I pretended I didn’t care, until pneumonia landed me in the hospital.

On the day I was discharged, I found him standing there with our daughter, his whole world focused on caring for that woman.
Even my daughter, whom I’d raised with everything I had, wished that woman was her mother.

In that moment, my heart died completely.

I left the divorce papers, gave up custody, and walked back into the chemical industry.
So what if seven years of marriage had worn me down?
I was still the top genius in my field.

But the divorce I’d wanted so badly never went through.
The man who once couldn’t have been colder to me now held on to me tighter than ever.
Our daughter refused to leave my side.

When he found my divorce papers,
the always cold and arrogant man pushed me against the wall and growled:

“Divorce? You’re mine. For life.”

“Smile, Natalie,” Callum whispered before he walked onstage.

So I smiled while he thanked another woman for the crisis plan I had written. I smiled when he pinned my grandmother’s sapphire brooch to her dress. I even smiled when his message came in, canceling our nineteenth appointment at the county clerk’s office.

Then I walked out with our unsigned marriage license papers in my purse and called the one CEO he hated most.

By the time Callum realized I wasn’t waiting anymore, I had already taken my name, my work, and my future back.