138 Book(s) Related to john brown isekai

My husband and I've been married for three years, and he's been messing around with her the entire time.

Hugging and kissing her on set, whispering flirty lines in interviews.

Everyone online calls me a pathetic stand-in.

I never get mad. I just smile and help him smooth over every rumor.

That is, until I accidentally got pregnant and secretly had an abortion.

He was furious, his heart shattered, demanding to know why.

I cupped his face and said calmly: "Because I don't love you."

The one I truly love is his dead brother.

I had been married for seven years, thinking I had the perfect family.

Until Christmas Eve, when I saw a delivery order for apartment 702. The note read: severe mango allergy.

My husband's allergy. The one that could kill him.

I flew downstairs and pounded on the door.

My husband opened it. The same man who was supposed to be "out of town on business."

A pregnant woman appeared behind him.

And my six-year-old son stood behind her, glaring at me with cold eyes:

"Make her leave, Mom. She's crazy."

My world shattered.

My husband sent me to a clinic to erase my "attachment distress" toward him and our daughter.

He said I was too obsessive, too clingy, that my love was suffocating him. So the day I found he'd booked three tickets to Zurich—one for himself, one for our daughter, one for another woman—I signed the consent form.

He said the treatment was temporary. That once I was "better," we'd still be a family.

Three months later, I walked out of that clinic. I remembered the white roses at our wedding. I remembered sitting up all night with our daughter when she had a fever. I remembered every time he'd told me he loved me. All those memories were still there, as clear as if they'd happened yesterday.

But when he stood before me holding flowers, eyes red, asking why I wouldn't fight anymore, why I wouldn't cry, why I didn't love him anymore—I could only tell him calmly:

I remember loving you.

That feeling, though? It's really gone.

He thought he was erasing my pain. He had no idea what he'd actually erased.

My daughter helped my husband cheat.

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

I thought I was the luckiest mom alive.

Then I checked the pet camera from overseas.

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

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

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

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

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

They thought I was still that stupid, trusting wife.

What they didn't know?

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

Look, I'd heard the rumors: Skyward International's flight attendants? You never see 'em anywhere but the airport. Not once. Kinda spooky, but my coworker drops this smirk—"First time? You'll get it"—and I'm boarding Flight 6108, heart pounding.

This chief stewardess, Tiffany? Stunning. Locks eyes, buckles me in, perfume hits like a drug. Later, service cart rolls up. "Airsick? C'mon." Door shuts in the crew lounge. Boom—she's on her knees. "Relaxation service." Zipper down, wipes me clean, then swallows my cock whole. Balls-deep, tongue on my sack, cheeks sucking vacuum. "Big one," she whispers, eyes pleading like she needs my okay.

My name is Charles Cole, a blind lactation therapist.
Of course, apart from pretending to be blind, all my skills are genuine.
Ophelia sat on the bed and slowly took off her top right in front of me, her beautiful figure revealing its spring allure under the golden warm sunlight.
“Mr. Cole, let's begin!”
I nodded, reaching forward with both hands, yet I didn't dare show the slightest unusual expression on my face.
The reason was simple: Ophelia's husband, Russell, was standing coldly right behind me at that moment.

My husband abandoned a billion-dollar deal and flew back overnight for me.

Everyone envied Mrs. Harris and her perfect life.

Only I knew that when he knelt by my bed, holding my hand, his cuff was still stained with another woman's breastmilk.

He thought I'd just taken a fall.

He didn't know that while he was cradling his bastard child with that tender smile, our baby had already dissolved into a pool of blood and left me forever.

This time, I won't make a scene. I won't love him anymore.

I slipped the suicide note I'd written long ago into the drawer.

And on this rainy night, I began planning a "death" that would belong to me alone.

I gave five years to my husband's ambition—and got betrayal in return.

Forty-three days without a break on the Imperial City project. I collapsed from exhaustion and woke up in the hospital. He never picked up the phone.

He was too busy celebrating his mistress's birthday.

The blonde hair wrapped around his jacket was like a slap to the face. I'd cut my own hair short years ago because he said long hair wasn't "professional." He just meant it wasn't professional on me.

He promised we'd move to Imperial City together once he succeeded. But he was always too busy—except when it came to touring my project sites with her.

I'd had enough.

I froze the accounts. Pulled the funding. Took back everything I'd built.

He tried to push me out of my own position, so I reclaimed the patents and withdrew my support.

He called a press conference to save face. I attended—as an executive at his largest competitor.

I watched him crumble.

For five years, I held him up. And for five years, he treated me like something disposable.

He forgot that the empire he thought he built was never his.

It was always mine.

In order to rush to comfort his assistant whose apartment was leaking, Richard signed his name hastily without even glancing at the documents on the table.
I put away the divorce agreement with a wry smile.
When he and my son completely disappeared, he finally panicked.
Three months later .
He knelt down on the streets of Chicago in despair, begging me to remarry him.
My six-year-old son looked coldly at his biological father and said, "Get lost, you bad uncle! You don't deserve to be my dad!"

"Kiera Scott is a 21 years old single lady, she Lives alone since she graduated from high school. Sometimes her friends come around to visit her. Luckily enough for her, she's the only daughter of her family and very pampered. She's pretty... The perfect definition of beauty can be told alone by looking at her. She's loved by everyone in her neighborhood, works in a very good company and paying one loved by her colleagues. But! The only problem is her Boss.

He's Tibby Wilf. He is a sex freak, crazy, mean, extra arrogant. He hates being corrected. But Kiera keeps crushing on him.

He was a sex addict. He'd always scold her when she's wrong and not...till she got used to it.

Now she accidentally found him in the shower.

"you!!" he called as she turned back shocked to see her boss half naked.

"argh!" she screamed and shut her eyes closed

"what you doing here?"" she asked

"I should ask you that!" he fired back as she opened her eyes

'gosh...so hot' she gasped in her thoughts

"I'm hiding... please" she whispered as she walked closer to him

"hey... stay back" he hurriedly said as she staggered back

"argh!" she screamed as he pushed her back but unfortunately... his towels fell off his waist."

Warning : Matured contents.

"Fuck ," Keir moaned as he placed his hand on her head motioning her to reduce her pace as she was at the edge of making him loose his mind but she didn't stop rather she continued gagging on his manhood swiftly and at interval she would meet his eyes with a smile on her face.

"Damn," Keir moaned again this time loudly as he released into her mouth, watching her take all of him as she swallowed. He didn't know how they had gotten here but he was pleased, his parents had organized a get together with all their shareholders and as usual Octavia had suggested they go have their own meeting in his office.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Octavia Cosmo and Keir Hydra are childhood friends, they come to a compromise after being in a series of unhealthy relationships with their past partners to be in a friend's with benefits situation to satisfy their sexual urge.

They keep at it for some while till Octavia realize she might be in love with Keir when he informs her he wants to call off their agreement off as he is now in love.

Will she let him go or do the untold to keep their agreement permanent?

The Alaskan winds cut across my face like knives, but only one thought consumed me—why hadn't Madison shown up to get me? In ten years, my sister had never failed to be there.

Until I walked in on my brother-in-law tangled up with some blonde bitch, and my world shattered. "Fallen through ice in a blizzard"? What a goddamn lie. They cut open her eight-month pregnant belly to steal her baby—while she was still conscious. They let her suffer for 47 excruciating minutes before she died.

I didn't break out of the psych ward to cry about it. I came back so these monsters can pay their blood debts in full. They think I was born wicked? Fine. Let me show them exactly how it feels to have your living body sliced open.

I suffered from a severe congenital heart defect.

And my mother, Jamie, had terminal bone cancer.

My family was not a happy one. It marked the third year since my father, Nelson, had openly and unapologetically betrayed their marriage.

That morning, my mother swallowed a handful of painkillers and forced herself to stand up from her wheelchair.

She asked her best friend, Zoey, who was also my attending physician, to forge a medical report.

Zoey trembled with anger, her tears dropping heavily onto the paper.

"Jamie, are you crazy? Your bones are being eaten away by cancer cells every single day. You're in so much pain you bang your head against the wall all night. Why would you fake a clean bill of health?"

"Do you think that bastard Nelson will change his mind and come back to you just because you pretend to be healthy?"

I thought I was the perfect wife and mother, until I heard my husband outside his office, laughing, calling me a "prison warden" and planning to use our daughter as cover while he ran off to Tuscany with his grad student.

Everything fell apart. Then my daughter, in front of everyone: "That's just our annoying nanny."

I tried to hold on to what was left of our family, but my daughter shoved me down the stairs. I lost the baby, and my husband just checked his watch while I bled out on the floor.

They locked me in and left for Italy.

Alone in the hospital, they told me I'd lost the baby and had "memory damage."

Now they're back, expecting the same obedient wife.

She's gone.

And I'm done loving them.

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

But I couldn't save my own daughter.

At the dock, two children were strapped to bombs.

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

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

His illegitimate son.

I compromised.

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

I never expected her to be Rosie.

My five-year-old daughter.

She looked at me.

Her lips moved, forming the word "Mommy."

Then the explosion tore through everything...

I thought that after twenty years with the Sterlings—even as an adopted child—I'd at least count as family. But the day they found their biological daughter Victoria, they announced they were throwing me out and planned to humiliate me at the family gathering. Based on what right?

Even more disgusting was how my almost-fiancé Blake immediately started fooling around with Victoria, eager to watch me get kicked to the curb!

When everyone was lining up to step on me, it was Alexander—the one I'm supposed to call "stepbrother"—who protected me. In his apartment, when he stood behind me gripping my hand as I chopped vegetables, his breath grazing my ear before he finally bent down to kiss me... my heartbeat went completely erratic.

My biggest regret? Trusting my husband with my mother's life.

The day the mudslide hit, I was on my knees. Begging him to send a helicopter.

He told me to wait. Twenty minutes. But when the helicopter came, it went for his adoptive sister Vivian instead.

I held my mother in the ruins. Her body was shutting down. I waited. Waited until she went cold in my arms.

When he finally showed up at the hospital, the first thing he said? Accused me of faking it. Said I just wanted attention.

In that moment, my heart died too.

Later, I found out Vivian wasn't even sick.

She said "I don't feel well"—that's all it took. And he left my mother and me to die.

Called me a lunatic. In front of everyone. All for her.

I was ready to leave. For good. Then someone shattered my mother's ashes.

On the day I got engaged to the heir of an elite old-money family, my own birth mother spread vicious lies about me in front of the entire crowd. She claimed I’d lived a wildly promiscuous life while studying abroad, and had even secretly given birth to a stillborn child with no known father.
Afterwards, she took my hand and sobbed out an apology, saying she’d only wanted to test whether my fiancé truly loved me enough to stand by me. I was foolish enough to believe her, and drank the calming tea she’d personally handed me.
When I opened my eyes the next morning, everything was destroyed. I lay in my bedroom, disheveled and half-dressed, and the man beside me was none other than my younger sister’s boyfriend.
In the end, my fiancé married my sister. And I was mercilessly disowned and cast out by my own family.
But twenty years later, every single one of them would come to regret what they’d done.

I remember that frost-covered train door like it was the last thing I ever saw. Because it was.
The escape spot I’d spent three years scraping together? My fiancée was sitting in it, wearing my parka. Her brother had my hiking boots on his feet. Her mother clutched the medical kit I’d carried six miles through ash-covered roads. And Caleb Frost—the ex she’d sworn was just “someone from the past”—stood in the seat that should have been mine, lifting my silver emergency flask in a toast.
While I froze out in the subzero ash storm, my lungs burning like they were filled with shards of broken glass, they turned their backs to me under the warm yellow light inside.
Then I woke up.
The calendar read May 3, 2041. Exactly one year before the Yellowstone chain eruption would turn the northern hemisphere into a frozen grave.
On the TV, experts were still downplaying the volcanic tremors, insisting there was no immediate risk to the public. My fiancée walked into the bedroom wearing one of my white shirts, carrying coffee in the blue mug she’d bought with my card. She reached for my forehead, asking if I’d had a bad dream.
None of them know I’ve already died once.
They’re still plotting how to make me pay for her brother’s failed investments, how to sneak texts to her old boyfriend, how to use me as their most obedient, most useful doormat until the world ends. I’ve sold the downtown office towers, mortgaged the lakefront house, bought the abandoned geothermal station no one wanted in the dead mountains, and signed a stack of engineering contracts they’ll never bother to read.
They still smile and thank me, tell me I’m the best fiancé in the world.
They have no idea who will be holding the key to the door, when the sky goes dark forever and the snow never stops falling.

“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.

It had only been seventeen minutes since my wife passed away. My daughter was sobbing on the phone.

"Dad, they're trying to drive me out."

I stared at the medical report in the doctor's hand.

The first natural antibody carrier.Toxin levels in the blood: zero.

The same poison that killed my wife, that killed my six-year-old son…had left me completely unharmed.

The doctor lowered his voice."Mr. Miller, you have to stay. They're sending people to pick you up."

I let out a cold laugh.

"My daughter is trapped in the basement storage room right now. Is anyone here going to help her?"

Silence fell over everyone.

I grabbed the glass water cup from the bedside table.

"Five years ago, they handed me a disciplinary penalty and fired me from the rescue team. Everyone said I was good for nothing."

The cup smashed against the floor.

I picked up the longest shard of broken glass.

"Today, I'll show you all how a useless man saves lives."

My family's company went bankrupt, and my father was critically ill.

I dropped out of school and worked multiple jobs every day.

Debt collectors beat me and broke my ribs, but I couldn't afford painkillers.

Every penny I earned went to expensive medicine, all to save my father.

Until I saw my father, who should have been bedridden on oxygen, holding a champagne glass at a hotel banquet hall.

His words pierced through, "Five years, the punishment she earned."

The bankruptcy was fiction. The illness, theater.

All orchestrated because his stepdaughter suffered from depression, and I was her entertainment.

When the doctor finally spoke to me, "Days. You have only days."

I laughed.

The dying one had never been my father.

It had always been me.

I once believed that love could transcend life and death.

Until the terminal stage of Moon Eclipse Disease, when my husband personally gave the life-saving opportunity to my younger sister—that orphan girl I had rescued.

He said the pack needed a gentle Luna like her.

My son clung to her, calling her 'Mom.' My parents crowned her with what should have been mine.

Fine, so you all want me dead?

Then I'll stake everything on one final gamble.

After I die, I want every single one of you to be tortured by the truth.

Four years ago, I left my boyfriend when he had nothing.

Now, he's a billionaire. And he's forcing me to marry him—just for revenge.

Every day it's a different girl. Now there's a pregnant influencer he flaunts in my face, destroying what's left of my dignity.

"Kneel and beg her, and I'll give you money." He holds another woman and smirks at me.

I don't cry. I don't scream. I just swallow the blood rising in my throat.

He doesn't know my brain tumor is terminal. I have thirty days left.

I've already signed the organ donation papers. I just want to die in peace.

I stopped loving him a long time ago.

Three years ago, on their way to attend my graduation art exhibition, the cruise ship carrying my fiancé and my family caught fire.

Over the past three years, I downed sleeping pills countless times, desperately wanting to follow them into the afterlife. Every single time, my adopted sister, Serena, saved me, crying hysterically as she shoved her fingers down my throat to make me throw up.

"They are already gone! Harper, you can't keep living in the past. You have to live on for their sake!"

After fainting from yet another high fever and being rushed to the hospital, I was diagnosed with terminal leukemia.

The doctor said I had a month left, at most.

I refused their advice to find a bone marrow match. Clutching my family's belongings, I decided to go back to our old estate in the suburbs for one last look.

While I was walking in a daze, a little boy running wildly crashed hard into my legs.

A male voice that had haunted my dreams for years rang out from behind me. "Alistair, if you keep running off, what will you do if Mommy and Daddy don't want you anymore?"

In an instant, it felt like I had been plunged into freezing water. I froze in place.

A witch prophesied at my birth—I carried special blood, I could bear the strongest children.

Two Alphas I'd loved for ten years—the Wolf King's sons—swore they'd protect me forever.

Then she showed up. Maggie. My cousin. All wide-eyed innocence, claiming she had the same gift.

Suddenly, I was the jealous one. Every trap was mine, meant to hurt her. Every wound on me was fake. She cradled the silver fox I'd killed, tears falling right on cue.

They handed me the moonflower wine. Bryan said, "Don't ruin the mood."

When they accused me of treason, Ronald said, "Exile."

They dragged me past the borders themselves. Poison fire in my veins, bones breaking under moonlight.

I hit the ground. The last thing I saw was Maggie's smirk...

Everyone said I was just a shadow of Ethan, that I was nothing without him.
So during the tryouts, to comfort his "scared" sweetheart, he let go mid-jump, almost costing me my life.
He was betting I couldn't leave him, that I'd forgive him like I did the last eighteen times.
But he lost.
This time, I didn't cry or throw a fit.
I simply tossed the apartment key that symbolized our seven years together into the trash, then turned and walked toward my own world championship.

My husband's first love was in trouble.
When the news came, I was lying on the operating table.
Dr. Miller put down his scalpel and said to Dr. Johnson, "I'll leave my wife's surgery to you."

"If I don’t go now, I might regret it for the rest of my life."

With that, he turned and walked away.
Watching my husband's retreating figure, I couldn't hold back—tears fell.
The next second, the cold blade of a scalpel touched my skin.

Dr. Johnson spoke calmly, "Why the tears? With me here, you'll be fine."

My sister walked onstage wearing the medal for my stolen research.
Ethan stood beside her and mouthed, Don’t ruin this.
Last time, I listened. I lost my scholarship, my housing, my lab, and the only archive my mother left behind.

This time, I held up the U drive with the original files.
“If Sophie built it,” I said, “let her run the raw data.”

My Sister Wore My Medal

I saw a post on Reddit, "Urgent! How do I convince my wife to donate bone marrow to my mistress?"

I scoffed and typed back, "What a piece of shit."

Right after I hit send, my husband came home. He grasped my hand, his voice shaky: "You have leukemia... but it's okay, we found a donor."

His right eye twitched—he always did that when he lied.

Then I remembered the worst comment on that post, "Trick your wife into thinking she's the patient."

Life imitating the internet, apparently.

He wanted to harvest my bone marrow for someone else.

When I finally saw his mistress's face, my world fell apart.

I never thought his mistress would be her......

“End the ceremony,” Prince Kael ordered, his cloak wrapped around another woman’s shoulders.

Our six-year-old son stood beneath the moon glass, wings trembling, the royal binding already burning under his skin. If the ritual stopped now, Rowan could be scarred for life.

Kael did not even look at him.

So I picked up the sacred blade and pressed it to the bond mark in my palm.

“You wanted freedom,” I said. “Take it.”

"Miss Smith, I think I can smell your scent... it's so womanly..."

I looked down at the boy hiding under the lectern, watching helplessly as he had his way with me right there in the classroom, while I had to pretend everything was normal...

My name is Catherine, the university math teacher. With my husband always away on business trips, at thirty years old, I was like a nun guarding that double bed, never satisfied. Slowly, I developed some strange habits... and became bolder...

The bell for the end of class had just rung, and teachers and students were flocking to the bathrooms in groups, chattering noisily outside.

In one of the bathroom stalls, I was panting, squatting... my black lace panties down around my ankles, my face flushed with ecstasy as I indulged...

“Mr. Hale, step away from the chest.”

The officer’s hand stayed on the latch beneath my brother’s portrait.

My mother clutched the donation envelopes to her chest. “Lena is doing this for attention.”

Dad gave the room his lawyer smile. “My daughter hides when she wants sympathy.”

The volunteer pointed at the broken white ribbon. “Then why is there blood on it?”

The room went quiet.

I stood beside them, dead and barefoot, watching Dad’s face change.

Because for once, someone was about to open the place where they had left me.

"Little woman, seems like fate doesn't want you alive. Blame yourself for forcing yourself on a man who clearly doesn't love you!!" The man spat the words with disdain.
Olivia felt the cold rush of air as she was shoved off the bridge, the assassin's face betraying no emotion except for a chilling smirk that never touched the depths of his icy green eyes.
…
Olivia's best friend, Harlow, pretends to have an affair with Olivia's husband, Chester. Harlow plans to kill Olivia and throws her body off a bridge, but Olivia is saved and undergoes plastic surgery. Five years later, Olivia and her triplets return to New York City to seek revenge.

Stella Blake is a new graduate police woman who is given a task to investigate a high but hidden club where all rich and illegal people come together to make business. To find out more information, Stella entered as a stripper.

However, Stella did not expect her name to be famous and known in that club. Many fluent people want to get her. One of those was Mr. Arthur Sandoval, a known mafia leader, head of a syndicate and the owner of that club.

Stella agrees to be Arthur’s mistress to find out their secret transaction and gather enough evidence to catch them.

But in the days that Stella was with Arthur, her feelings for him are growing. Despite his bad work, he respects and values her.

Arthur fell in love with Stella but when he read the background report that was made, his view of the woman changed. He found out that Stella was a police officer and was just pretending to be a stripper to catch them.

Is there any hope for their evolving love?

Framed for a crime she didn’t commit by the one person she trusted most — her best friend — Bella’s world crumbled the night her mate, Alpha Ethan, rejected her and cast her out of the pack. Heartbroken and alone, she thought her story had ended.

But fate had other plans.

When a rival pack takes her in, Bella’s hidden bloodline awakens — ancient, powerful, and destined for more than just survival. Now, she’s no longer the broken girl the Alpha abandoned... she’s the Luna their world never saw coming.

And when the past comes knocking, those who betrayed her will learn: the girl they threw away was born to rule.

Alex's first day as a college student was great so far. She enjoyed her new classes and classmates, especially the man she sat next to in her first subject. The guy's name is Richard. He's handsome and nice, and Alex cannot help but be mesmerized by him.

And then she met him again on her last subject. Maybe it was Destiny that made then meet again, and it looks like the feeling is mutual been the two of them. There is only one problem. Richard is a Quinto, and the Quintos are the mortal enemy of the Martinez, Alex's family.

Fortunately, her sister Angel was there. Even though her older sister obeyed her parents' rules, she still sided with her and helped her in her relationship with Richard. As for Richard, his cousin Bryan was there whom he considers like his real brother.

Fate seems to agree with Alex and Richard. They were able to keep their relationship a secret from their parents. Until Bryan mistakenly became Angel's boyfriend. Then things started to become complicated. How strong can Richard and Alex's love be? Can it solve the dispute that started 20 years ago? And what fate awaits Angel and Bryan, who, by helping the two, are also doomed?

He has always been popular since high school. He was a heartthrob in the making. She has always been the smart girl. She's one of those 'perfect' students. She actually managed to steal the heart of the high school heartthrob. Back then, his heart throbs only for her. Years passed and nothing changed. Girls still desire to have a chance to be with him. There's just one thing that changed, though - She's not the girl that he wants to be with anymore.