252 Book(s) Related to hood lil bill

A horrific car crash left me paralyzed.
The doctors said I'd never walk again. With no family left, my Aunt Martha and Uncle Thomas took me to their isolated farmhouse.
They cared for me, promising their treatments would help me walk again. After everything I'd been through, I thought I'd finally found safety.
Until today, when the feeling in my legs suddenly came back—but something told me not to tell them.

While I bled to death locked in a storage room, my fiancé Adrian was holding my sister's hand, comforting her.

He hung up on my final call for help, leaving only a voicemail: "If anything happens to Lena, the engagement is off."

My sister once said her birthday wish had always been for me to disappear.

That night, her wish came true early.

But my soul never left.

I watched everyone gather around her, singing happy birthday.

As she blew out the candles, I whispered in her ear:

"Enjoy it while it lasts. This will be your last birthday."

I bled to death on a cold hospital bed, my unborn child gone, all because I took a shift for my coworker.
Heaven granted me a second chance. I opened my eyes, sitting safely at my office desk. Before I could shake off the nightmare, Vanessa clicked her heels toward me.
"Claire, can you cover for me at the investor party tonight? It’s my anniversary with my boyfriend."
In my past life, I agreed, only to be locked in a private room by monsters and tortured to death. This time, I looked her in the eye. "No."
Vanessa was stunned. Because of my refusal, she missed the crucial meeting and was mercilessly fired by the director.
I thought I had escaped hell and saved her life too. But when I got home to my loving husband, I realized the true nightmare had just begun...

"You useless thing."
My husband Cassian stared at me coldly. "I thought marrying a Costa daughter would get me something, but it turns out to be nothing. And your sister, on the contrary, has become the family heir."
With that, he wrenched off our wedding ring and smashed it violently onto the ground.
"I should have chosen her in the first place, not you." Those were his final words to me.
In my previous life, I was an unrecognized illegitimate daughter of a mafia family. I obediently accepted the arranged marriage, bared my heart to my hypocritical relatives, and believed wholeheartedly in my husband's promises.
But in the end, all I got was the iron chains of the dungeon, dying with eternal regret and the unresolved truth behind my mother's tragic death. My mother and I were nothing but stepping stones in their power struggle.
Yet when I opened my eyes again, I was back three weeks after my mother's passing — at the engagement scene that decided my entire fate.
This time, I'll make every single one of them understand: they made the wrong choice!

I am a Kitsune exiled from the East. Every twenty years, I must consume a soul soaked in pure sin to grow a new tail and survive.
With only ten days left to live, I was desperate. Then I met Julian. He gently paid off my crushing debts with a smile so warm, I almost thought I’d met an angel.
Until he leaned in close. Beneath his expensive woodsy cologne, I caught the heavy, undeniable stench of fresh women's blood.
I lowered my head, hiding the sudden thrill in my eyes.
I had finally found my monster.

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.

My mother was dying, and I—the fallen heiress of the Sterling family—had no choice but to ask my husband for the $200,000 stipulated in our prenuptial agreement, less than a week after our wedding.

He transferred the money without a word.

But that night, the way he looked at me changed.

"So the Sterling family is drowning in fraud scandals. I guess greed really does run in the blood."

From that day on, Theodore never looked me in the eye again.

He started openly parading other women at social events, letting everyone mock me as a gold-digger who only married him for money.

Today is my birthday. I'm sitting in the emergency room with unbearable stomach pain.

Meanwhile, Theodore is throwing a party for his new girlfriend.

Clutching the $185 emergency room bill, I call him.

"Theodore, let's get a divorce."

"Here we go again. How much are you trying to extort from me this time?"

For the tenth time, James Smith left me behind because of a call from his female student.
But it was as if I had become a different person—I no longer doubted that there was something ambiguous between James and his student.
Even on our wedding anniversary, when he abandoned me in the remote mountains for Sophia's sake, I bore no resentment.
Eventually, James began to sense something.
"Emily, you seem different," he said.
I shook my head with a smile.
Because I had simply made a different choice from the one in my past life.

Carlisle said that he would marry me when he became the godfather.
Gritting my teeth through the pain, I dug the bullet out of my arm and bandaged the wound out of habit. By the time I finished the whole process, I was already drenched in cold sweat from the agony.
The last candidate had been secretly taken care of by me ten minutes ago.
I returned to the dessert shop and hid the ring I had spent over a month designing inside a strawberry mousse cake.
Carlisle loves the cakes I make by hand the most. Tonight, I’m going to propose to him—I can’t wait for him to marry me anymore.
"Boss, one strawberry mousse cake, please make it quick."
I looked up at the customer who had just walked in and immediately lowered my head, afraid she might recognize me.
It was my stepsister, Karina.
"We’re closed. No cakes today."
Karina pointed at the cake I had just packed. "Isn’t there one right here? I’ll take this one. I’ll pay double."
I was about to refuse when Karina’s phone rang. "Sweetheart, why aren’t you back yet? Our son is getting impatient."
Karina put the money on the counter, grabbed the cake, and walked away. I didn’t stop her.
Because I saw the person on her video call—it was my fiancé, Carlisle.

In his eyes, I had always been "understanding." Understanding enough not to fight, not to make scenes, not to ask for status.

He said we couldn't go public now, but it was for our future.

Only later did I realize that his "future" never included me.

He chose power, chose arranged marriage, chose to keep me hidden. When I finally left, he started having regrets, started saying he loved me.

But by then I understood—he wasn't regretting losing me. He panicked because I was no longer obedient, no longer his.

So I never gave him another chance. I turned and walked away.

But that was only the first step.

I chose to let the truth surface at his moment of greatest triumph, to let him taste what it feels like to lose everything.

There's a heavy iron door at the end of the hall. Anyone who steps inside returns with eyes full of hatred. That’s all it took for the basement to turn my gentle fiancé into a predator and my loyal best friend into an enemy. Now, I'm trapped with a mother who claims the violence is all in my head. I have to open that door.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"The scouts are coming tomorrow, and you want to ditch the regional finals just to take care of her after a botched cosmetic procedure?"

I tipped off the school board to stop him from ruining his life.

Because of me, he won the championship and secured his draft pick. But because he stood her up, his girlfriend dumped him.

Years later, he sat at the top of a billion-dollar sports enterprise, while I was a researcher working for him.

Out of nowhere, he brought a carbon-fiber hockey stick down on my hands, crushing my finger bones to splintered dust

"Maeve, you cold, calculating machine," he spat. "This is your karma."

When I opened my eyes again, the agonizing pain was gone.

I had just been given a second chance.

On Halloween night, a sharp stench of chlorine and cheap booze woke me up.
I opened my eyes to a man grinning at the bedroom door.
It was my husband, David, soaking wet and showing off the liquor he’d vanished hours ago to buy.
I cursed him out, called him a liar, and demanded a divorce. He just kept that idiotic smile.
Then my phone rang. It was his best friend, Mark.
"Claire, David drowned drunk in the pool!"

"You were like a starved beast last night," I complained, spreading jam on my toast.
Gideon's hands froze mid-knot on his tie. He turned to me, his eyes filled with utter bewilderment.
"Nadia, are you out of your mind? I was in the study finishing up that proposal last night. I crashed on the couch at three in the morning. I never even went into the bedroom."
The knife dropped from my hand onto the table.
If the man I made love to all night wasn't my husband.
Then... who was it?

On our wedding night, my husband proposed a game.
Absolute honesty. Trading secrets lethal enough to destroy us both.
He went first.
"I fucked Chloe today," he stated, tossing out his hours-old infidelity like it was nothing.
My turn.
"I killed a man." I swirled the dark red wine in my glass, keeping my voice dead flat. "I butchered my own father."
He threw his head back and laughed out loud. He was so sure it was a pathetic joke. So sure I was still his perfect, helpless prey.
He laughed too soon.
And he definitely shouldn't have swallowed the wine I just poured him.

I just landed my dream job on Wall Street, but the celebratory champagne came with a bizarre side effect. I can suddenly see the exact probability of someone killing me floating above their heads. My parents? 5% and 70%. The fiancé I ran to for safety? A blood-red 100%.

I was Ethan Blake's perfect mistress for five years, adhering faithfully to his rules of secrecy and obedience.

I knew his coffee preferences, his pre-meeting anxieties, yet it wasn't until his arranged-marriage partner returned that I understood I was merely a replaceable 'item' in his life plan.

When my mother passed and the pressure of medical bills vanished, I realized for the first time — that contract with its monthly transfers had bought not just my time, but my very right to say 'no' to him.

And now, when I no longer need his money...

This transaction, forged in the name of bondage, will be terminated by me.

My husband is sleeping with my own sister. Cliché, right? I drove to Black Pine Lake to catch them, but stumbled into a brilliantly twisted murder trap instead. Now, the cops think I am a jealous, psychotic killer. Declan believes he dug the perfect grave for me. But did he?

"Are you always this damn sensitive?" my husband snapped, his hands lingering on his ex’s waist.
I stood there, holding our 5th-anniversary cake and my pregnancy secret. He canceled our romantic dinner just to comfort her.
So, I threw the cake away. Next, I'll throw him away.

My younger sister, Freya, was preparing for her advanced training in New York the following week, so she dragged me to the dance studio to help her correct her movements. I put on my dance shoes as usual and stood in the center of the floor, ready to demonstrate a turn.

The moment my foot slipped, I didn't even have time to react.

My body hit the ground hard, and the sharp pain from the back of my head nearly made me lose consciousness. I lay on the cold floor, my throat tight, unable to even cry out for help.

When Mother rushed in, she didn't spare me a glance.

She immediately helped Freya up and took her to the hospital. I missed the critical window for treatment and died on the way to the hospital.

This was supposed to be a romantic night celebrating my fifth wedding anniversary with my husband.
Until Reddit pushed the same post to me four times in a row: [Tonight at 11:00 PM, the female CEO of Aetheria Tech will have her throat brutally slit]
I didn’t buy it. With a net worth in the billions, the line of people wanting me dead could stretch all the way down Wall Street.
Until I clicked on the attached photo—it was the exact sofa I was sitting on right now.
I checked the time. Half an hour left.
If I scream right now, will I even make it to eleven?

My husband had been traveling a lot lately. Intuition told me he was cheating.
I kept quiet. For his birthday, I gifted him AirPods—secretly linked to my backup Apple ID.
At 10:00 p.m., his "Find My" location wasn't heading to the airport. It had stopped at a decade-abandoned lumber yard.
I floored it, obsessed with catching them in bed.
But when I arrived, I only found a corpse.

Every time the clock hits 11:10 PM, I am brutally slaughtered in my apartment. And every time, I gasp awake ten minutes earlier to fight for my life. The deadbolts are secure. The windows are sealed. Outside my door, nothing but silence. Yet, the killer strikes precisely on time. Who is watching me from the dark?

Nineteen times. That's how many times Lucas promised to marry me, only to leave me standing alone because of her.
Today was supposed to be our day. But as I stood in the biting cold outside the restaurant, watching him carefully help Selena into his Maybach, the marriage application still tucked in my purse, I finally understood—that "someday" would never come.
"Let's reschedule the registration, okay?" he'd said without even looking at me.
I walked straight to HR and submitted my resignation. Then I accepted the offer from the Morinetti family—his sworn enemies.
As I boarded my flight to the West Coast, my phone exploded with messages.
"We agreed to go to City Hall today. Where are you?"
I glanced at the screen one last time, then powered it off.
"We're done."

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked.
Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed.
In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider.
But now, she's done playing by wolf rules.
She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page.
“You're angry?” he growls.
“Angry enough to commit murder,” she replies, voice cold as frost.
A silent war brews under the roof they once called home.
Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion.
With every cold glance and calculated step,
she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved.
And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke...
It may be far too late to win it back.

For years, Elara Park endured being called "half-breed" and "weak blood" at pack meetings. Because she was a hybrid wolf, she trusted Zack Blackwood's sweet promises.

Then he rejected their fated mate bond moments after claiming her body.

Before she could even breathe through the soul-crushing agony, the news was already celebrating his engagement to her vindictive stepsister, Selina. The headlines gushed about their "perfect pureblooded union."

Her mother's call came like a final blow: "Elara, you're twenty-three now. It's time you contributed to the family."

Marry the worthless second son of a prominent Alpha family or lose her father's empire forever. They had her trapped, ready to steal her birthright and leave her powerless.

But as the heartbreak bled out, ice-cold determination took its place.
Elara went to the arranged meeting at the city's most exclusive club, determined to turn her mother's matchmaking scheme to her advantage. She would agree to marriage—but on her own terms.

When she found who she believed was Damian Sterling in the private suite, she cut straight to business: a contract marriage with clear boundaries, separate lives, and a guaranteed escape route.

What she didn't know? The devastatingly dangerous man who'd just signed her contract with a predator's smile wasn't the pathetic playboy she expected.
He was Dominic Wolfe—the Alpha King who'd been relentlessly hunting her for years.
And now, she'd just signed herself over to him completely.

Aria Graves was the perfect Luna.
After seven years of a marriage built on lies, She didn't break when the truth surfaced—she burned. Her revenge was clean and her rejection final. 
But fate wasn't done with her.
To protect his own secrets, her father used her mother's life as leverage and forced Aria to take her sister's place, sending her to the Silverfang Pack as a living offering to their ruthless Alpha King, Damien Rothwell.
Cold, commanding, and scarred by war, Damien should have killed her. Instead, he claimed her.
Yet the King is not the only one who wants her.
His half-brother, Ethan Rothwell, once the blind boy Aria taught to read, now returns a man who sees her more clearly than anyone else.
Now Aria stands between two brothers—one bound by duty, the other by love.
In a world where loyalty bleeds and desire burns, she must choose: the Alpha King who could ruin her, or the brother who would burn the world to save her.

Silvia lost everything in one night--her parents, her trust, and her mate. Coming home from their funeral, she found her "fated" partner, Zack, tangled with another she-wolf. "You'll always be my Luna... even if I seek out others," he said, smirking. Heartbroken but fierce,she rejected him--and turned to someone far more dangerous.

"I need help,"she whispered.
Sherman leaned closer, his voice like silk over steel. "I offer more than help, little wolf. I offer everything he couldn't give you."

Now married to Zack's powerful half-brother, Silvia plays a deadly game of loyalty, vengeance, and survival. But Sherman Carter doesn't help for free--and as their bond deepens,truths unravel.

Is Silvia just a pawn in Sherman's war?
Or is she becoming the Queen who'll burn the whole pack down?

When love, betrayal, and bloodlines collide, how far will one omega go to save her family--and destroy the mate who broke her soul?

"White wolf! Kill that monster!"
That roar stole my eighteenth birthday and shattered my world. My first shift should have been glory—blood turned blessing into shame. By dawn they'd branded me "cursed": cast out by my pack, abandoned by family, stripped of my nature. My father didn't defend me—he sent me to a forsaken island where wolfless outcasts were forged into weapons, forced to kill each other until only one could leave.
On that island I learned the darkest edges of humanity and how to bury terror in bone. Countless times I wanted to surrender—dive into the waves and never surface—but the accusing faces that haunted my dreams pushed me back toward something colder than survival: revenge. I escaped, and for three years I hid among humans, collecting secrets, learning to move like a shadow, sharpening patience into precision—becoming a blade.
Then, under a full moon, I touched a bleeding stranger—and my wolf returned with a violence that made me whole. Who was he? Why could he wake what I'd thought dead?
One thing I know: now is the time.
I have waited three years for this. I will make everyone who destroyed me pay—and take back everything that was stolen from me.

Maya Cross woke up in a nightmare—trapped in the body of a sadistic villain who'd tortured five powerful beastmen into submission.
Good news? She finally had the power to break their bonds and set them free.
Bad news? They were stranded on a dying ship surrounded by Zerg swarms, with zero rescue coming.
The first was Caleb, a snake beastman whose red eyes burned with pure hatred. Every time he looked at her, she saw the memory of chains and venom extraction.
The second was Finn, an aquatic beastman whose scales she'd ripped off one by one. He could barely stand to be in the same room without his hands shaking with rage.
The third was Sage, a griffin beastman she'd tormented so badly he barely went a day without fresh wounds.
The fourth was Hunter, a lion beastman she'd mocked relentlessly, calling his beast form hideous and grotesque.
The fifth was Jasper, a fox beastman whose face she'd scarred so badly he'd lost his consortium inheritance.
"Protect me until I find my father," Maya told them, drawing her own blood, "and I'll give you what you need to break our bond."
Caleb laughed bitterly. "Since when do you make deals instead of demands?"
"Since we're all dead if we don't work together."
But when survival depends on trust, can a torturer become a savior—or will her victims choose revenge over rescue?

Lorelai Voss died once.Betrayed by her fated mate.Used by her brothers.Sold to bear a cursed Alpha's heir.
But death didn’t end her story.It rewrote it.
She wakes up the day before her forced marriage—wolfless, but not powerless.
She remembers every lie.
Every hand that pushed her into the fire.
“You don’t get to tell me who I belong to,” she says, staring down her Alpha brother.
“I can save you,” she tells Alpha Keith, the strongest wolf on the continent.
“Now you owe me.”
This time, she’s not the pawn.
This time, she plays the game—and she plays to win.
With twisted loyalties, buried secrets, and a slow-burn romance that begins with distrust and ignites into obsession, Lorelai walks the line between justice and vengeance.
Will she destroy the monsters who made her…
or become something far more dangerous?
One thing is certain:
The girl they threw away is back—
and she didn’t return to survive.
She came to conquer.

Rose Adams
17, Sweet, shy, innocent, intelligent.
She lives and struggles with her industrious mother to make ends meet after being rejected by her biological father. Fortunately for her, she got a scholarship to study in a prestigious high school for the wealthy where she endures a lot from a ruthless bully. She works part-time as a cleaner in a big company where she enjoys the butterflies in her belly from the nice boss.

Caesar Junior Imperial (CJ)
18, Tall, Handsome, spoilt, stubborn, proud, cold blooded and arrogant.
He prefers to be called CJ because of his hatred for his father. He studies in a prestigious highschool where his late mother owns half the shares which he inherited. He is a popular bully, feared by all in school especially some teachers. He is very spoilt and stubborn even to his own father.

Mr Caesar Imperial
39, Tall, cold blooded, nice and hardworking.
He is the town's rich and handsome widower. Every woman's dream. He is the CEO of Dynasty Empire. He is loved by all but hated by his own son. He spends almost all his time at his company. He is very nice to everyone, including the cleaners.

Two Caesars, One Rose 🌹
Two cold blooded men, one sweet innocent girl.
A Love triangle extraordinary.

I was reborn on the eve of the arranged marriage, and the first thing Liana and I did was swap our marriage contracts.
In my past life, gentle Liana had married Kael, the cold and ruthless Alpha of the Wolf Clan.
But Kael always put the scheming daughter of his savior first, condemning my cousin to a lifetime of endless grievance and suffocating misery.
As for me, with my fiery temper, I’d been wed to a mediocre, weak Beta.
He spent every day complaining that I “wasn’t a woman at all”. Endless quarrels and the crushing burden of the family eventually led me to a tragic end—dying exhausted on the battlefield.
Now I opened my eyes again, staring at the fateful marriage contract on the nightstand. I clenched my fists and looked at my teary-eyed cousin.
“Tomorrow, you’ll marry that Beta. And as for that cold-blooded Alpha? I’ll take care of him.”

When I woke up again, the air was torn apart by the staccato crack of gunfire.
I had been reborn. I was four months pregnant—exactly when Luca’s "first love" had conspired with a rival syndicate to ambush our estate.

In my previous life, the moment the shooting started, I hadn't hesitated. I immediately dialed my husband, the Don of the family.

To protect the heir growing inside me, he had decisively dragged me out of the line of fire first.

But the price was steep. His beloved Isabella took a bullet straight to the heart in the chaos, dying instantly.

Afterward, with bloodshot eyes, he told me he didn't blame me. He even stepped away from the mafia empire, remaining at the estate to play the perfect husband, solely to ensure I had a safe delivery.

I believed him. Until the day I gave birth.

During the sacred baptism in the family chapel, he tore off his mask and personally sent both me and our infant son to hell.

In my final moments, I would never forget the look in his eyes—a hatred that burned down to the bone.

"If it weren't for you, she never would have died," he had said, his voice ice-cold as I lay in a pool of my own blood. "She bled out that day. You and this bastard will bleed twice as much today."

"How much longer are you going to drag this out?! "My husband, Julian, kicked the bathroom door open, violently snapping my lipstick in half. "I don't have time to waste on a psycho. Find your own way to the gala!"
He snatched the unlabeled bottle from the vanity, dry-swallowed two capsules, and slammed it back down before driving off.
When I arrived at the gala alone, his mother asked where he was.
"He'll be here later," I said with a perfect smile.
But I knew he would never make it.

At Holy Oak High, being the Top Flyer isn't just a crown.
It’s a ticket to the upper class.
Girls would pay any price to stand at the top of that pyramid.
But I didn't understand that the spotlight hid a man-eating abyss until I had to put on that blood-stained uniform.
Listen. Do you hear that scratching sound coming from inside the locker?

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.

Carter and I have been together for five years. We never had actual sex.
During our most intimate moments, he would only ever slip a dark Violet Pearl deep inside of me. I honestly thought it was his way of cherishing me.
Until tonight.
I woke up totally naked to find a phone set up on the bed, its lens glaring right between my thighs, with a red "LIVE" icon blinking on the screen.
[The pearl matures Oct 31. Five years of cultivation!] the chat kept scrolling.
I checked the screen on my phone.
It’s October 30.

Since when is eating a snack before dinner a capital crime? All because of a bag of gummies, my parents beat the hell out of me, and a judge coldly sentenced me to death. I was absolutely convinced the candy was laced! It wasn't until moments before my execution that I accidentally found out the truth: my family... were never actually my family to begin with.

At my bedside, for what felt like the hundredth time,my family asked me nervously,“Are you still planning to look for Elias?”
I blinked in confusion, asking, “Who is Elias? Why would I look for him?”
And at that moment, the doctors declared me “recovered.”
I was finally allowed to leave the psychiatric clinic that had tormented me for more than a year.
They told me—that Elias never existed, that I had fallen into delusion, loving a man created by my imagination.
I understand that only by obeying them can I regain my freedom.

I just bought my daughter a ruby choker. But the moment I fastened it around her neck, my world came crashing down.
The shopkeeper called me a sick freak. My loving husband demanded an instant divorce. My best friend called me a monster.
Why? It’s just a piece of jewelry... right?

On a stormy night, an intruder broke into the estate and slashed my husband's throat.
I didn't call the police. Instead, I grabbed the bleach and scrubbed away every trace the killer left behind.
The next morning, my mother-in-law dug her nails into my arm. "Tell them! Who murdered my son?!"
"Lady Cordelia, if you saw anything, now is the time to speak." The police captain stepped closer, his voice hard.
I met his gaze without blinking. "The thunder was loud last night. I took my sleeping pills and heard absolutely nothing."

After my divorce, I fled to the unfamiliar streets of Seattle with my daughter. As a Black single mother, the crushing weight of surviving in a strange city nearly broke me.
That is, until David came along. A detective with the Major Crimes Unit, he became our safe haven, wrapping my daughter and me in his fierce, unwavering protection.
I thought I had finally made it through the darkness. I thought I was about to embrace a brand-new life.
Until our six-month anniversary. I showed up for our date full of joyful anticipation, only to accidentally witness him tenderly kissing a pregnant white woman.
With his two young children clustered right by his side...

One month before the SATs, I saw my predicted score floating right above my head.
But every time I finished a practice test, the score automatically dropped by 20 points.
And if I skipped class to party for a day, it went up by 20 points.
In my past life, I partied for a whole month, and the score above my head reached a perfect 1600.
But when the results finally came out, I only scored a 400.
And my sister Seraphina got a 1600!
My father, Richard Vanderbilt, was absolutely furious.
My mother, Eleanor Vanderbilt, fueled the fire beside him.
She convinced my father to send me to a troubled teen boarding school.
They cut off my funds and threw me out of the mansion.
That very night, I was cornered by a group of street thugs in a dark alley and beaten to death.
As I lay dying, I heard Seraphina's voice.
"You always played the untouchable genius, Rhea. But you still got fooled by the score above your head."
That was when I finally realized the truth.
My SAT score had been completely controlled and siphoned by my sister.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to exactly one month before the exam.

It was my fourth time putting on a wedding dress.

To protect myself against my own parents, I hired a ten-man security detail.

I specifically chose the most isolated chapel in the suburbs.

Because at my first three weddings, they acted like absolute maniacs—destroying my rings and making me a complete laughingstock in front of everyone.

I just couldn't understand what kind of parents would do such a thing.

This time, I actually thought I could finally marry Liam in peace.

Until the bridal suite door was kicked open.

And my dad, once again, snatched my diamond ring away.

"Come see our wedding invitations!" I excitedly held up the document folder I'd grabbed from ,my fiancé, Lorenzo's study, showing it off to his men in his private safe house on the Upper East Side.

Lorenzo and I had been running ourselves ragged this month preparing for the wedding.

Lorenzo's guys raised their glasses, waiting to see our custom-designed invitations. I eagerly turned the folder upside down—

Marriage certificates, wedding photos, and a property transfer document came tumbling out onto the floor.

Dead silence.

"Oh, these aren't our invitations..." I was still grinning foolishly. "Must be the wrong folder."

"Let me see which lucky lady is about to become a happy bride."

I looked down at the wedding photo. A beautiful brunette woman in an elaborate white gown smiled from the center of the picture, looking so blissful, so content.

When my eyes shifted to the groom beside her, my world collapsed.

It was Lorenzo. He wore a perfect black tuxedo, but he was tenderly embracing a woman I'd never seen before.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my Alpha husband missed the candlelit dinner for the seventh time.
He rushed off to rescue an Omega surrounded by vampires, leaving me alone in the villa.
That same night, a jarring photo spread through the pack.
Damien, covered in blood, held Rose tightly in his arms, his lips pressed against her forehead.
Everyone was waiting for me to be jealous, to rage.
But I didn’t scream or argue like I used to.
Instead, I poured out his favorite champagne, closed my eyes calmly, and prayed to the Moon Goddess.
“You once said I have a destined mate.”
“If he will make me strong and free me from this wretched marriage, let him come for me in seven days.”

As the tyrant ruling the underworld, Victor was ruthless and bloodthirsty, showing no mercy to anyone.

Women who tried to climb into his bed usually didn’t even get a whole corpse, yet I was the only one he kept by his side.

I’d taken a poisoned bullet for him, and nearly bled to death on the rotting floor of a safe house giving birth to his son.

He once kissed the bullet scar on my shoulder and promised me that when he sat on the godfather’s throne, I would be his only family matriarch.

But the moment he slipped on that black onyx ring symbolizing power, he carried another woman into the master bedroom of the manor.

I burst for the door, and he ordered his bodyguards to pin me outside, forcing me to listen to their sounds of passion all night long.

I banged on the door like a madwoman, so he slammed my paintbrush-wielding right hand in the heavy oak doorframe and crushed it mercilessly.

I finally caved when he threatened to cut off my mother’s hospital treatment.

On the second floor of this old Victorian house is a long hallway with a dark red rug. Six doors are evenly spaced along its walls.
We lived here peacefully for ten years.
Until last month, when my seven-year-old sister, Maeve, suddenly refused to set foot in it.
The adults dismissed it as a childish phobia.
Until late one night, hiding under the covers, she pressed her face to my ear and whispered:
"Don't count the doors."

My husband, Victor Falcone, was a mafia godfather whose very name makes the entire underworld tremble.
A year ago, he barely survived an assassination attempt. The trauma gave him severe amnesia, completely wiping out the three months we spent keeping each other alive in the slums.
When he woke up, he was a different man—cold and ruthless. He treated my stepsister like his untouchable first love, spoiling her rotten.
And me, his legal wife? In his eyes, I was just a greedy, desperate woman who wouldn't take a hint.
"Drop the cheap pity act," he’d sneer. "You’re not worth a single hair on Lilia’s head."
Even so, I chose to stay by his side, desperate to spark his memory.
Until today. A rival cartel tied me and his precious "angel" to iron pillars on an abandoned pier.
Beneath our feet is a raging, pitch-black ocean. A thug has the ice-cold barrel of a gun pressed hard against my temple.
Which one of us will he choose?