2719 Book(s) Related to read my highschool bully

When Chrissy agrees to go camping with her new, hot boyfriend, she never imagined she'd be roughing it under the stars, or that she'd get lost.
When Luther, the werewolf, went for a run in a summer storm, he never expected to get pinned under a tree and rescued by a curvy, slightly crazy version of a brunette Barbie.

Now Chrissy thinks Luther is her new 'puppy',
Luther's new name is Fluffy,
And back in the city, the pack is about to have the laugh of their lives.

But try as he might, Luther can't seem to bring himself to leave her, and Chrissy could never known that there was an underground battle in Seattle for who would get to claim the city as their pack's territory.

He laid me on the sheets, climbed over me, caged me with his arms. "Last chance to run," he said, voice low.
"I need the money," I whispered, feeling so tiny in his arms. "You're soaking," he muttered.
"Virgin or not, your pussy wants this."I moaned, looking away, couldn’t help it, "Eyes on me, sweetheart," he pushed his tip in slowly.
"Fuck," he groaned. "So tight. "He fucked me like he was claiming something.
"Come for me," he whispered in my ears, moving faster.
"Damien," I cried out his name as I came. "That's it," he growled. After a long minute he pulled out slowly.
"One night," he said again, almost like a reminder... Weeks later, I walked through the quiet hall of my school.
A massive portrait stared back at me.Damien Blackwood the Principal Benefactor and Owner of Columbia University. Same man who’d just taken my virginity for money. My stomach dropped. "Oh fuck... what have I done?"

“Well, now you’re a widow,” he said, smearing the blood of the man I had just married across my face before pulling his hand away. “What a pity. I am going to make you my mistress too",

“And nobody runs from me, mate.”

When Mila transfers to Northshore Academy, she wants a fresh start. She doesn’t expect to clash with Cole, the cold and feared hockey star everyone avoids.

Cole is the best player in the school. He barely talks. No one dares to challenge him—until Mila steps onto the ice and proves she can play just as well.

Their rivalry turns into a public challenge. The rule is simple: if Mila wins, Cole must carry her school bag every day for six months. If Cole wins, Mila will have to accept the embarrassment.

Mila wins.

From that day on, Cole walks beside her to school, silent and serious, carrying her bag. Rumors spread. Students stare. What starts as a punishment slowly turns into something neither of them expects

BLURB

For four years, Avrielle lived in a gilded cage of gratitude, cherished by a husband who stayed by her side after a tragic accident left her paralyzed. She believed she was a beloved wife—until she found the diary. Inside were the jagged words of a man trapped by guilt, dreaming of a divorce and the woman he truly loved.

Now, Avrielle has twenty-four hours to play the part of the happy bride one last time. While Kayden performs a mask of devotion, she is orchestrating a silent escape that will strip him of everything. But as the clock ticks down to her flight to Switzerland, the lines between her revenge and her lingering love begin to blur.

What if all she believed in was a lie... What if she caused her own destruction?

She felt that he was upset so she walked over to him, but didn’t know what to do.

Jack took out the stuff inside the document folder and put it in front of Stephanie. He read, "I have asked someone to check. The baby in your belly…”

He paused on purpose and looked at her meaningfully. Catching a flash of joy in her eyes, he sneered in his heart but maintained his poker face.

"The baby’s father is Steve. DNA Comparison shows 99% match.” He finished his sentence.

The face in front of him turned pale gradually. Stephanie lifted her head and laughed as if just heard a joke. "This is impossible. I didn’t…”

Jack interrupted her without any hesitation and explained indifferently, "Oh, yes. I kept his sperm and arranged an operation for you.”

"No…That’s not possible.” She lost her voice and covered her belly with her hands. Jack, however, didn’t waver and tossed the document to her.

Stephanie took the document with her trembling hands. She examined the data carefully, trying to prove it’s fake.

After a while, she raised her head and looked at him in a forced smile. "It…it’s all fake, right? Tell me this is a joke, please…I know, this… ”

Jack remained indifferent. He looked at her mercilessly and said, "You owe him a life. The baby is the compensation.”

I was reborn twelve hours before the anomaly occurred.

In my previous life, I died tragically in a sea of fire, unable to even protect my three-year-old daughter.

In this life, I returned from hell with the "Shadow" that rules the abyss, only to discover that the only antidote to ending the wasteland lies in my daughter's palm.

Her ex-wife, who was possessed by a monster, the greedy military, and even "myself" who went mad across parallel universes all tried to tear her apart and suck her blood.

You want to harm my daughter? Fine. Then let's see if you can withstand this all-consuming polar night!

For seven years, Elara sacrificed her blood to her wolf family, only to be betrayed by her husband and own child for a fake savior and a handful of candy. She abandons all love, awakens her ancient vampire queen power, and delivers brutal, unforgiving karmic punishment to everyone who drained and deceived her. No forgiveness, only eternal solitude atop her blood-stained throne.

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.

On the night of the charity gallery opening, I caught Lucas and Lila tangled together in the storage closet.
He pulled the girl tight against his chest and sneered, “Stella, you’re eight whole years older than me. You’ve controlled my life for five years—when are you gonna realize you can never hold onto me?”
Lila giggled, snuggling deeper into his arms. “You’re past your prime, ma’am. Why cling to someone who was never yours to begin with?”
Snickers and mocking laughter rippled through the onlookers.
I gave a slow, hollow smile.
For five years, I single-handedly kept Scott Enterprises afloat, mopped up every mess he made, and buried every scandal spawned by his endless string of flings.
Still, he hopped from one girl to the next, weaponizing our age gap to mock and hurt me, over and over again.
Then he shoved me hard. I crumpled to the floor in a pool of my own blood, watching him bolt out with another woman in his arms, not a single glance thrown back my way.
I knew right then the baby was gone.
Everyone whispered how pathetically I’d bent over backward for love.
No one ever learned the truth: I endured everything only because his face mirrored my late fiancé, Elias.

"Abort her mutt. Liora is carrying my true pureblood heir."
My Alpha husband’s voice was ice-cold as I bled out on the delivery bed.
The woman he was protecting? My fiercely loyal best friend.
While I was screaming in pain, biting my lips bloody to birth his child, he was in the next room, making her moan.
He killed our baby.
When I returned from burying my only family in the freezing rain, his guards threw holy water in my face.
"Wash her," Lachlan ordered coldly. "The stench of death on her will harm Liora's pup."
I stared at the man who once took nine lashes of a barbed whip just to marry me.
He aborted my baby to save hers. He let my grandmother die of shock.
He tossed me a bag of gold like a beggar and told me to stop causing drama.
So, I packed my bags, and vanished into his world.

“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.

I'm the forgotten eldest son of the Cross family.
My parents see me as a walking blood bag for my brother Colin, while my wife views me as a sinner destined to spend my life atoning for my mistakes.
When Audrey pressured me to donate a kidney, I agreed.
Not only did I agree, but I also liquidated all my assets and transferred them to my lab.
They thought I was foolish, that I was still begging for their love.
In reality, I was just tying up loose ends.
The night before the surgery, I coughed up a pool of blood.
Audrey laughed coldly over the phone: "Stop the act, Evan. You just want to dodge responsibility. You'll go to any lengths for attention."
The surgery was a "success."
Colin got the kidney he'd always dreamed of.
And I died in the recovery room.
My soul floated in the air as I watched Audrey push open the hospital door, wearing a smile that dripped with pity, ready to put on a show of "redemption."
"Evan, I know you've been wronged. Let's start over..."
The only response to her was the white sheet covering my lifeless body.

Every night, dragging noises come from the floor above.
The neighbor claims he just can’t sleep, yet he stares at my window and grins in the dead of night.
Later, he dies.
But at two in the morning, I still get a text message from him.
Someone else warns me: Don’t go to the sixth floor.
The police say this building doesn’t even have a sixth floor.
Yet I’ve seen people go up there with my own eyes.
Where exactly does this so-called sixth floor lead?
Who really died?
And who on earth is the one texting me?

I've married sixteen dead men for a living. My seventeenth husband just opened his eyes.
I was born knowing one thing: the dead can speak one last time — but only to a spouse.
So I marry dead men. Rich families pay me to wed their fresh corpses, carry the last words sealed inside me, and read the testament out before the heirs. Then I burn the marriage certificate, and the marriage ends at the grave. Starting price: six hundred thousand dollars.
This morning, the Crane heir drowned in his own pool. Twenty-eight, obscenely rich, not one word left behind. The family offered five million and a private jet. By my count — my seventeenth husband. By a wide margin, the handsomest.
I said "I do" to a corpse for the seventeenth time. Then I called for his last words.
Silence. Sixteen weddings, sixteen voices. Husband number seventeen had nothing to say.
Because my seventeenth husband just opened his eyes.

I lent my Bugatti to my secret boyfriend for clout. He repaid my trust by gifting my car to a scheming cheerleader, letting her publicly humiliate and frame me. The whole school mocked me as a poor garage keeper’s daughter, unaware I’m the hidden billionaire heiress behind the supercar. Now I’ll destroy his fake rich life and avenge every insult.

For three years, I deliberately suppressed my grades to rank under my boyfriend William, paving his way to our promised Cambridge exchange. I overheard him and my best friend Maddie confess they framed me for plagiarism in my past life, driving me to jump off the 38th floor, yet they still carried on an affair. They lied and ignored my pain afterward. Heartbroken, I secretly applied to Cambridge alone. The twist? My years of hiding my brilliance were never selfless sacrifice. I collected all their dirty secrets. I’m going to Cambridge not to flee, but to ruin every dream they cling to.

My husband bought a necklace for the woman who killed my mother.

When I saw my foster sister Rebecca Rebecca wearing that emerald necklace with Aaron at the party, I knew history would repeat itself. Seven years ago, my mother lost everything the same way—her husband, her dignity, and finally her life.

I wouldn't follow in her footsteps.

So after slapping Rebecca across the face, I told everyone I was divorcing him and walked out with my suitcase.

Rebecca thought she'd won again. Aaron thought I was just being hysterical.

Neither of them saw it coming—

This time, I'd make them pay.

When I was reborn, and my Alpha husband's ward clamped a muzzle around my neck as a joke...
I didn't shift into my wolf and tear her arm off like in my past life.
I ripped off the bloody muzzle and gave Roman a smile.
"If you think this is a joke, keep indulging her."
And I walked away without looking back.
Because my death in my previous life was too miserable.
After our fallout, Roman used his Alpha authority to freeze my accounts overnight.
Exiled, I was diagnosed with terminal silver poisoning.
Dying in agony, I swallowed my pride and crawled back to the Pack gates.
But he let Chloe force me to my knees and refused to open the doors.
In the end, my wolf spirit shattered, and I froze to death.
I only understand after dying: love and dignity are worthless.
Survival and money are all that matter.

Cancer was supposed to be my death sentence. Instead, it became my liberation.

I thought I had it all—wealth, status, a picture-perfect life in Greenwich's elite circles. Then came the diagnosis that would change everything: six months to live. But facing my final chapter, I uncovered a truth more devastating than any terminal illness—the man sleeping beside me was slowly killing my soul.

When you have nothing left to lose, you discover exactly how powerful you can become.

To please his mistress, Callum ordered me—pregnant—to dance barefoot in the black salt ice cellar.

When I stumbled back to the doorway to warm myself, the mistress covered her mouth and retched.

"I'm pregnant. I can't stand this death-stench of winter."

Only because I was a princess of the Winter Realm, born carrying frost in my veins.

Callum flew into a rage and had me locked inside a frost-crystal cage, sunk to the bottom of the ice well. No one was allowed to release me without his command.

"A princess of winter, afraid of the cold? What a joke!"

No matter how I struggled or begged, he couldn't have cared less. He and his mistress treated it as entertainment. And just like that, I froze to death at the bottom of that well.

What he didn't know was that although we winter-born are forged in bitter cold, when we carry a child, every drop of magic goes to protecting the baby. We have no defense left for ourselves. The very ice that shaped us becomes the thing that kills us.

Two days later, he was finally satisfied and ordered them to pull me up.

But I could never come back up again.

At the annual charity gala, I stood in the spotlight as the student representative.

My roommate, Harper, suddenly stormed the stage, publicly accusing me of being a sugar baby who seduced her father.

"That diamond necklace around her neck was bought with my dad's money!"

I instantly became public enemy number one. The crowd erupted into a frenzy of boos, and the administration, caving to the pressure, prepared to expel me on the spot.

Facing the out-of-control screaming and the countless live-stream cameras shoved in my face, I pulled out my phone and dialed the so-called "sugar daddy" right there in front of everyone.

"Dad," I said coldly. "Since when did I get a new 'sister'?"

On my anniversary flight to New York, fate sat my cheating husband's mistress right beside me.

Alice spent the entire trip gushing about "her Daniel" while wearing the sapphire ring he'd called "too vulgar" for his wife—me.

"She's so pathetic," Alice laughed, describing how Daniel planned to dump his "clingy" spouse. "Good riddance!"

If only she knew his "pathetic" wife was the billionaire secretly bankrolling his success.

At JFK, Daniel threw money at my feet and told me to disappear.

I smiled, dialed my investment firm, and watched his face crumble.

"Hello, darling. Your sugar mama just quit."

On our fifth anniversary, Caspian gifted me a luxury yacht bearing my name. Everyone said I was the luckiest woman alive.
But when I finally conceived his child and prepared to share the news, his mistress sent me photos—him cradling a baby she'd given him, his eyes filled with a tenderness I'd never seen.
Five years of waiting, five years of infertility—all an elaborate lie.
He once whispered in my ear: "Even if every man in the world betrays his wife, I never will. You're my life. Without you, I can't survive."
I quietly packed, left behind my pregnancy report and all the evidence, and drove away. Three hours later, he received the call: my car exploded on the highway. No survivors.
From that day on, the most powerful man in Valen City lost his mind completely.

"The Draganovs are moving on Celeste tonight. I'm taking her to the safe house. We'll do the claiming after this, Orla. I promise."
That's what my husband said the seventh time he chose Celeste over me.
Celeste. The girl he'd loved since before he had a wife to ignore.
The first time, she heard footsteps outside her window at two in the morning. Rafael sent his whole detail to sit on her house and left me at a meeting with two men who wanted our shipping routes and didn't like being told no. I came home with a bullet crease across my ribs. He apologized for a week.
The third time, someone tipped the cops on one of our warehouses and she got scared. He drove her upstate himself. I took a knife at the door because there was no one left standing in front of me.
By the sixth time, he didn't explain. He just texted the doctor to be ready for me and left.
He's a Don. When the guns come out, he walks away clean. I'm the one wearing his name where everyone can see it. The one they aim at first. Six scars say so.
Every time, he held my face after and promised. Founders' Day. In front of every family in the city. Once Celeste was safe. I believed him six times.
So when the seventh time came and he chose her again, my bags were already packed.
There won't be an eighth time he sends me out to die for her. Next time, there won't be a wife left for him to send.

The day I closed another major deal, my fiancé, the CEO, smiles and tells me the credit and the bonus are going to the new intern.

I watch him lean in close to her, laughing, and something in me just stops caring enough to fight for it.

I sign the transfer request and ship myself off to the most useless department in the company.

What I don't expect is that a few days later, the same man who never looked twice at anyone beneath him is going to be on his knees begging me to come back.

I took a bullet for my husband five years ago. He married me in the ICU before the anesthesia wore off.
Raffaele Santoro—heir to the most powerful mafia family in Italy—told me I was his everything. He bought a castle and named it after me. He reserved a grave beside his parents so we'd lie together for eternity.
While I was pumping my body full of hormones for our fourth round of IVF, he was across town watching his childhood sweetheart give birth to twin boys.
He named one of them Dante—the name I'd chosen for our future son.
The night I found out, I was seven weeks pregnant with his child.
I didn't tell him.
I called my best friend and said: I need everyone to think I'm dead.

My husband never wore condoms with me. Said they ruined it for him. So I swallowed birth control pills for four years until they made me sick.
Then I found a half-empty box in his glove compartment. And a thong under his backseat.
That wasn't even the worst part.
The necklace I'd made from my mother's ashes—the one I'd been grieving over losing for a year—was dangling between his twenty-three-year-old trainee's tits. He stole it from our bedroom and gave it to her.
She caught me staring. She smiled.
When I confronted him, he slapped me. Then drove off with her crying in his passenger seat.
Her friends came to my hospital with a livestream, demanding I apologize for "bullying" her.
I led them straight to the parking garage.
They found her on a stretcher. Legs wrapped around my husband. No condom.
The whole internet watched.

The stepbrother I grew up with was a golden boy, a star varsity quarterback everyone had high hopes for.
But for a street-level delinquent, he abandoned his Ivy League future.
Desperate to pull his life back on track, I tried to expose his toxic girlfriend.
Yet, he hated me to the bone for it.
For her, he ruthlessly dragged our family into the crossfire of a deadly gang dispute, causing us all to meet a violent, tragic end.
I never expected fate to rewind the clock.
To give me a second chance.

Everyone knows my fiancé, Alex, is the kind of madman who would call off a billion-dollar merger just for me.
For years, he convinced the world I was his one and only, risking the wrath of the board just to keep me by his side.
But that kind of devotion is mostly for show.
In reality, he already had a legal wife—and a baby on the way, carrying his blood.
When I learned the truth, I went straight to my best friend.
"Maya, help me stage a car accident. One where the body can't be identified," I said calmly. "It's the only way I can truly escape Alex."
The night I disappeared, he spent hours kneeling by the burned-out wreck.
He destroyed a high-profile marriage alliance, drove his pregnant wife to madness, and became a complete wreck himself.
But when he finally found me—
He realized I didn't love him anymore.

After the crash, my husband, Darius, lost his ability to speak. The trauma to his cervical spine left him unable to even lift a finger.
The doctors said his only remaining way to communicate was to nod, or to shake his head.
Sitting by his hospital bed, I finally asked the question that had been eating away at me for three months.
"When the crash happened... were you on your way to see your mistress?"
Darius stared dead at me. Then, slowly, he nodded.

Ninety-nine times.

I was sent to the punishment chamber ninety-nine times by my mafia don fiancé.

Each time, he watched through bulletproof glass with cold, detached eyes—watching me being deprived of sleep, injected with drugs, tortured until I was barely clinging to life.

"Elara, you're paying for what you did to the Mancuso family."

For the sake of sweet, innocent Yvette—his precious savior—he personally destroyed everything I had.

After the ninety-ninth time, the doctor handed me a critical condition notice. I stopped begging, signed the confession, and vanished completely with my broken body.

The result? When the truth finally came to light, the ruthless don went completely insane.

At my boyfriend's exhibition party, I went into anaphylactic shock after eating the cake Mia handed me.
I stumbled, reaching for my EpiPen, only for Mia to snatch it out of my hand and crush it under her heel.
"Give... it back..." I choked out, grabbing onto my boyfriend's arm.
He just shook me off, disgusted. "Chloe, can you stop being so dramatic? It's not that big a deal."
"Yeah, Mia's basically family," one of his friends chimed in. "You're being way too jealous and controlling."
Nobody was listening to me anymore.
With the last of my strength, I pressed down on the hidden button on the side of my watch — the one I'd never had to use before.

At last season's Grand Olfactory Gala, Vivienne Harrow presented my formula before I could reach the stage.
I confronted her. She asked where my proof was.
I had nothing. The formula had never left my head — no notes, no records, nothing. I didn't know how she'd gotten it.
I died not knowing.
Then I opened my eyes, and she was already reaching for me.
"Not this time."
I stepped back.

Ten years ago, my mate faked his death in the war and ran off with his childhood sweetheart.
No goodbye. No contact since.
All he left me were two things — a debt of six hundred and eighty thousand, and a notice declaring him lost, stamped four years later by people who'd never met him.
The bank took our den. I moved into a shared burrow-flat at the edge of the settlement.
Three jobs after hours. Sold blood. Scrubbed latrines. Tested tonics for the healers until my nose stopped working right.
Ten years to pay off the debt. A desk at the Missing and Fallen Registry Office, once the ceasefire finally came.
My first case file was a man the law had already declared dead.
He said he'd been young and reckless. Walked out. Never looked back.
Now his family's land was due a war reparations payout, and he needed his name restored to collect it.
I stared at the name on the form. Recognized it instantly.
Smiled.
"Insufficient documentation. Application denied."

My two best friends killed me over a girl who'd been dead six months.
Lila Bishop never got a single offer. So she cried and clung until Cole and Wes were ready to throw away their full rides and follow her to nowhere. I tried to stop them — they called me jealous and cut me off. So I went over their heads. I called their moms. I fixed their signing papers myself, the night before the deadline.
Six months later Lila was gone, and they blamed me. They dragged me to the roof of our gym and threw me off.
Then I opened my eyes — three months back, the day it all started.
Last time, I broke myself trying to save them.
This time, I'd let them jump.

My long-lost twin sister has returned.
The first thing she did was demand to marry my fiancé.
Jayden, murmuring apologies, held her close as they walked into the city hall.
My family urged me to be generous, saying, "After all she’s been through, you owe her this much. You've had a good life all these years—why not let her have this?"
Until the day of their wedding, no one could find me.
But what they didn't know was that my body had been drifting at sea for over ten days.

Is this too wrong?
It probably is! But right now, I really don't care.
I let my legs fall open. The big bad black wolf's face finds its place nestled between my legs. Taking a deep breath, he inhales my scent—my arousal—and emits a low, guttural groan. His sharp fangs lightly touch my skin, eliciting a cry from me as sparks surge through my pussy.
Can anyone really fault me for losing control at this moment? For desiring this?
I hold my breath.
The only thing separating the two of us is the sheer fabric of my panties.
He licks me, and I can't hold back a moan.
I brace myself, thinking he might finally pull back—but instead, his tongue licks me again and again, each time faster. Eager.
Then, he suddenly rips my panties at an absurd speed and precision, without causing any harm to my skin. I just hear the noise of the fabric tearing, and when I glance at him, he is already back to licking me.
I shouldn't be feeling this way about a wolf. What is my damn problem?
Abruptly, I feel his licks get gentler, and when I look again at the big black wolf, I realize it's not a wolf anymore. It's Alpha Kaiden!
He's shifted and is now licking my pussy.

🐺 🐺 🐺

Alpha Kaiden, a feared werewolf infamous for his ruthless acts and pleasure in killing every full moon, finds out that his fated mate is none other than a seemingly ordinary human woman, who happens to be his Gamma's chosen mate.
He wants to reject their bond, but fate has other plans. Turns out, the tournament to become the next Alpha King dictates that only Alphas with a mate can enter. That's what leads Kaiden to propose an audacious pretense agreement.
Though initially hesitant, Katherine's heart softens when he makes a precious promise: to protect her small pack from any threat that may arise.
Little does he know that Katherine discovers a hidden strength within herself that is far greater than he could ever imagine.
As the tournament's challenges progress, Alpha Kaiden finds himself irresistibly drawn to the desire to have her presence not only in the competition but also in his bed.

In my last life, I was the scapegoat, set off Charlie's deep love for another woman, and finally ended up with a family of miserable end. After rebirth, I decided to let it go, waiting for Peiheng to file for divorce. But the development of the situation is a bit strange, how does a man who barely goes home in my last life come back every once in a while? And worried that I will betray him? "Do you believe that in the near future, you will hate me and want me to disappear?" I asked. "Don't dream." He replied, "We'll torture each other to death." I sighed, as a reborn I know that Charlie will soon meet his true love. Finally, they met, I thought freedom was only one step away from me. But he said, "Who said I want a divorce?" Not only did he not divorce, but he cared more and more about me, even his true love was abandoned!

After two years of marriage, Charles Lancelot suddenly filed for divorce.
He said, "She's back. Let's get a divorce. You can have whatever you want."
After two years of marriage, she can no longer ignore the reality that he no longer loves her, and it’s clear that when the past relationship causes emotional distress, the current one suffers.
Daphne Murphy did not quarrel, she chose to bless this couple and put forward her own terms.
"I want your most expensive limited-edition sports car."
"Yes."
"A villa on the outskirts of the city."
"All right."
"Split the billions of dollars earned after two years of marriage."
"?"

"I want a divorce. "
The day before her third wedding anniversary, Fiona sees her husband walking to the obstetrics wing with his arm around his ex-girlfriend, Rowena. Rowena is pregnant.
Heartbroken, Fiona rejects Micah, her husband, her mate, the Lycan Prince of the Alastair Kingdom, and leaves the pack.

However, to Fiona’s surprise, after being rejected, Micah goes crazy looking for her all over the world.
Until one day, when he sees her walking down the street holding a little girl, he pins her against the wall.
“Is she my daughter?” Micah hisses.

Irene was in a relationship with her fiance Perry for seven years.
On the day before her wedding, she witnessed her bestie having sex with her fiance in her wedding room.
To take revenge on Perry, she had one-night stand with Perry's boss--Nathan.
Nathan was super-rich and irresistibly attractive. Obviously, he was much better than Perry in all aspects.
Coincidentally, Irene ran into this shameless couple in the shopping mall. Her bestie teased her that no one would fancy a girl like her.
She happened to see Nathan and made a hint to him. Then Nathan went by and kissed Irene, "Sweetie, why do you leave me alone in bed this morning?"

That scumbag who turned into a jerk as soon as he had some money had been sneaking around with my stepsister behind my back. On our wedding night, no less, he was still carrying on with her! To make matters worse, my shameless stepsister drugged me, causing me to lose my long-preserved virginity to some stranger, and I even ended up pregnant with his child! And now, that traitorous bastard wants to divorce me so he can be with my despicable stepsister! Over my dead body!
Four years later, I returned to the country with triplets born abroad, armed with unparalleled medical skills and a burning desire for revenge against those who betrayed me. My ex-husband, that scumbag, begging for a second chance? Get lost!
But what’s the deal with this billionaire I accidentally saved? Not only does he look just like my kids, but he’s also shamelessly insisting on being their father!
The billionaire: "They are my children. Who else do you want them to call dad?"

All my life, I've been the backup daughter. My sister Beatrice got everything—love, attention, the golden child treatment.I got leftovers and reminders I wasn't good enough.
Until I discovered Niall,gorgeous Alpha from the neighboring pack,was my fated mate. Finally, my turn to be chosen.
God, I was naive.
Four years of engagement hell.Bleaching my hair to suit his tastes. Squeezing into tight dresses, playing his personal maid—only to hear I'd make a better servant than mate.
All because his heart belonged to my sister.
That night,I accidentally knocked over their picture frame. He slapped me. Hard. Said I'd never measure up to her.
So I slapped him back, tore up their photo, and accepted rejection.
I thought it was over. Until I caught them at the club, laughing about how pathetic my four years of trying had been. The whole engagement was their sick game.
Drunk and furious, I did something reckless with my mysterious neighbor. Alpha Hudson —face carved by gods, danger in every perfectly tailored line.
Most importantly, he's my ex's nemesis.
So? Best sex of my life.
I thought it was a one-night stand to forget.
Wrong Again.
He's richer than Niall, more powerful than my family, and infinitely more dangerous.
And he's not letting me go.
This time, I won't be anybody's second choice.

Madison Harper knows all too well the chaos Alexander Knight leaves in his wake. As the billionaire CEO’s personal assistant, she’s cleaned up after countless scandals, soothed ex-lovers, and kept his messy private life from spilling into the boardroom. But when one fateful night lands her in Alexander’s bed, the dynamics shift dramatically.
What begins as a moment of uncontrollable spirals into a neither can resist: Madison needs financial help for her mother’s mounting medical bills, and Alexander offers the resources—on the condition she becomes his girlfriend for a year. No strings, no emotions, just business.
But as the lines between their professional and private lives blur, Madison’s resolve to keep her heart guarded begins to waver. Beneath Alexander’s reckless charm lies a magnetic that draws her closer than she ever intended. Just as she starts to believe she might be more than his latest “arrangement,” the ghost of Alexander’s long-lost first love, Katherine, reappears, threatening to unravel everything they’ve built.
Can Madison protect her heart while navigating this high-stakes game of desire and deception? Or will this with her infamously reckless boss cost her more than she’s prepared to lose?

A bet.
One scandal cost Alora Harper almost everything.
She was a star student. All she ever cared about was working hard to achieve her dreams until Caden Steele popped into her life and almost ruined her.
Now, she is determined to never let her guards down again.
Caden Steele had always been a self-absorbed playboy but playing with Alora didn’t go as planned.
Instead, it made him unable to function without her. Now, he is determined to win her back.
But it might just be too late!

Age Gap Romance/Arranged Marriage/Strong Heroine/Found Family/Revenge/Slow Burn Romance
Nineteen-year-old Clarice Sullivan was forced by her scumbag father to marry Theodore Grant, a man of thirty-one. On their wedding night, Theodore, transformed into a ravenous wolf, left her utterly exhausted. "I thought you said you couldn't?" she muttered, rubbing her aching lower back. "Aren't men in their thirties supposed to know some restraint?" Theodore, irritated, pinned her down again. "Round two!" he growled.
After marriage, Theodore switched into full protective-and-doting-husband mode.
"Darling, my worthless father is trying to hit me again!"
"Just wait," Theodore snapped, his temper flaring. He promptly dismantled the entire Sullivan family.
"Darling, she drugged me—tried to hand me over to another man!" Clarice pointed accusingly at her wicked half-sister. Theodore's fury erupted. He slapped the woman hard across the face and ensured her reputation was ruined beyond repair.
With Theodore's unwavering devotion backing her, Clarice repaid every slight and cruelty a thousandfold. When others criticized her for being spoiled, Theodore scoffed, "I'm the one who spoiled her—got a problem with that?"