2760 Book(s) Related to things i wanted to say monica murphy

I came across a viral local post while scrolling through my phone.

LIVE: My fiancée is cheating on me. I’m in her house right now. Should I end her for good?

When I tapped into the post, what I read made the blood in my veins turn to ice in an instant.

I put a monitoring app on her phone. I’ve been listening for almost two weeks, and every single day she’s on the line with some random guy, flirting and talking dirty. She says yes to marrying me to my face, but she’s been cuckolding me behind my back. Tell me, bros—does this bitch deserve to die?

The comment section below had completely spiraled out of control. Hundreds of replies were all outright egging him on, not a single person telling him to stop. Every line oozed with the vicious glee of people who lived for drama and cared nothing for the consequences.

Hell yeah she does. You got cucked this hard, why keep her around?
Bro, stop all talk and no action. Go live, we’ll send you gifts. Rape her first, then kill her if you’ve got the balls.
You in Haicheng? Drop the address. Me and the boys will come over and help you out. My fists are itching for a fight anyway.
Pfft, and I thought you were tough. You’re already in her house and still dragging your feet? I bet you don’t even have the guts to kill a dog.

My fingers were shaking violently. Driven by a sick, twisting dread, I tapped into the poster’s profile—and with just one glance, every hair on my body stood on end.

This account belonged to Xiao Ming, the blind date my relatives had forced on me when I went home for the Lunar New Year.

His entire profile was filled with posts about me, spanning a full two weeks, starting the very day we’d met for that blind date.

He’d taken secret photos of me, paired with captions full of disgusting, delusional ramblings:

My fiancée went on a date with me today. She wore a white blouse with the neckline open so low, it’s obvious she was trying to seduce me.
She told me she works the front desk at a hotel. That’s her way of hinting I should take her to a room for the night. All women say one thing and mean another.
She says she has a boyfriend, but it’s just playing hard to get. She’s been dying to marry me this whole time.

But I’d said it loud and clear, right in front of the matchmaker, on the very day of that blind date: I’d been in a committed relationship with my boyfriend for three years.

That blind date was nothing more than a way to appease my family. I’d been polite but distant the entire time, and I hadn’t even accepted a single glass of water from him.

As for that nonsense about a hotel room? It was complete and utter garbage. I’d only casually mentioned that my job was working the front desk at a hotel, nothing more.

Just as a bone-deep chill washed over me, the post refreshed. A new line had been added to the main post, timestamped just three seconds earlier:

Truth is, I’m hiding in her house right now. She’s lying in bed scrolling through her phone, and she has no idea she’s already dead meat.

The very second that line finished loading, a clear, soft rustle of fabric came from the wardrobe right behind me.

I thought my husband was my salvation.
Until I overheard him in the wine cellar, laughing and joking with my "attackers" from that night.
The gang rape that destroyed me was a show he orchestrated himself.

He married me only for inheritance rights.
He humiliated me, branded me, took away my child, and made my life a living hell.
But he forgot one thing—
The ancient blood oath of the Corleone family states clearly:
If a husband betrays his marriage, everything he owns shall belong to his wife.

This time, I'm no longer the rabbit waiting to be slaughtered.
This time, I write the ending.

My husband Eric couldn't speak after a car accident three years ago. Three years of silence. Not one word.

To pay for his rehab, I worked four jobs at once—worked until I was coughing up blood, until I collapsed. Winter nights, Leo and I huddled under one threadbare blanket. When my son spiked a fever and I had no money for medicine, I stayed up all night pressing wet rags to his burning forehead.

Eric? His only communication was cold texts, ordering me around. When Leo reached for a hug, he'd push him away like our son didn't exist.

I endured it all. Because deep down, I believed the accident was my fault.

Until that night.

I was hauling equipment at Selena's concert—Selena, the pop star everyone knew—when a mystery guest in a mask stepped on stage. They sang together, voices blending like they'd done this a thousand times.

That voice. That lightning-shaped scar on his elbow.

My "mute" husband of three years.

I followed him backstage. Through the door, I heard Selena's laugh: "Congrats, Eric. Your mute act is almost over—you won the bet."

Three years of sacrifice.

All of it just a game. A bet with his first love.

The day my wife, Hollywood’s newly crowned Best Actress, landed an S-tier deal, she arrogantly tossed a separation agreement in my face.

“I’m moving into Beverly Hills. A salaried office worker like you will only drag down my status. If you can’t come up with a ten-million-dollar mansion, then get out of my life.”

She thought she had latched onto a media tycoon, and eagerly signed the “fake divorce loan” agreement I had tailored just for her.

What she didn’t know was that I wasn’t just the pathetic husband she thought I was. I was also a quantitative strategist from Wall Street, a man who could turn the markets upside down.

That ten million dollars became the seed capital I used to short the tycoon backing her.

When she was ruined at her movie premiere, burdened with crushing debt, and crawled barefoot like a stray dog up to the hillside mansion, begging hysterically for me to remarry her, I was already toasting a successful acquisition with my Wall Street partner.

Then I watched coldly as the security guards threw her into the Los Angeles night like a piece of rotten industrial waste.

I gave up MIT for them in my last life.
They paid me back by stealing my lab notes, framing me for misconduct, and choosing her over me when I drowned.
I watched them choose her over me a hundred times
Now I’m 17 again. I block all three and fly to MIT.
They think I’m throwing a tantrum.
Wait till they find out who saved them out of that cave—

Everyone in this city knows that the king of the underworld, my husband Vincent, is crazy about me.

Three years ago, when that bullet tore through my abdomen, it took away my chance of ever being a mother. He held my blood-soaked body and swore to God he'd make the shooter's entire family pay. A month later, that family was wiped off the map in this city. No one dares speak their name anymore.

He sat by my hospital bed, holding my hand. "I don't need kids. I only need you."

I believed him.

Until six months ago, when his brother died in an accident, leaving behind his wife Serena. The family pressure came like a tidal wave. An heir. A bloodline. That's all they cared about. And that woman became everyone's golden ticket to keeping the Caruso name alive.

That's when my husband stopped coming home at night. Every night, I hear them through the wall. Sounds that used to be mine.

But today, the doctor told me my body is healing. The chances are slim, but there's hope.

I clutch the medical report and rush home, imagining Vincent's face when he sees the results. Maybe everything can go back to how it was. Maybe he'll realize he doesn't need her.

Until I stand outside our mansion and hear laughter pouring out.

"Serena's pregnant! Can you believe it? The family finally has an heir!"

"Finally. The family's saved."

The biggest mistake of my life was falling in love with my childhood best friend, Cole Blackwood.

I grew up with Cole. He was my childhood best friend. When my mom died in a car accident in high school, his mother Lillian, my mom's best friend, saw that my stepmother didn't like me and took me in. She arranged our engagement. Cole protected me from bullies in high school. I fell for him. We secretly married at eighteen.

Shortly after the wedding, he was kidnapped. That's when everything fell apart. I threw myself off a cliff to draw the kidnappers away and save him. I was in a coma for three months. But when I came back to him, weak and broken, he thought some woman named Sophia Vanderbilt had saved him instead. He started hating me for "abandoning him" and grew cold. I tried to explain. He only believed what Sophia told him. My words meant nothing. 

Cole wanted to divorce me, but his parents refused to allow it. I refused too. Sophia drugged him to get pregnant and trap him into marriage, but he stumbled into the wrong room. He slept with me instead. I got pregnant. She faked videos to make him think they'd been together. She forged evidence that I'd cheated. He wouldn't listen to a word I said. 

Then we were both kidnapped and held hostage on a rooftop. Cole chose to save Sophia. I fell. I lost the baby. After Sophia was rescued, she went to the hospital for a checkup. They found leukemia. She needed a bone marrow transplant. I was the only match, but after everything, my body was too weak. Cole used the "debt" I owed his family to force me to donate. 

I refused. Sophia "died." Cole locked me in a psychiatric hospital and tortured me until I died. 

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day he demanded my bone marrow. This time, looking at his desperate eyes, I said yes and decided to divorce him and leave him for good.

In the apocalyptic freeze, temperatures plummeted to seventy below zero. The earth was encased in ice, and ice beasts roamed everywhere.

I risked my life to scavenge for food, covered in wounds, enduring cold and hunger, leaving all our meager supplies for my parents and brother.

I thought blood was thicker than water, that all the suffering and hardship was worth it.

But I never imagined that when our resources ran out, the family I'd protected with my life would reveal their true beastly nature. They ambushed and knocked me unconscious, tied me to an ice pillar, planning to use me as food rations—to eat me alive.

At the moment of near death, the ice jade my grandfather left me suddenly shattered. I awakened top-tier ice abilities, commanding frost and snow, controlling the extreme cold.

My kindness had been frozen to death by the bitter cold. Family meant nothing.

Those who betrayed me, deceived me, and tried to eat me—I wouldn't spare a single one.

When they shoved me into the flames, I fought through the blinding pain to call my brother, Ethan Bennett. Fire licked at my skin, twisting my vision, but the call finally went through.

"What is it now?" He sounded distracted, like he was checking off a guest list.

"Ethan, please, help—" My voice was shattered, choked by the searing heat.

"Can't you just give it a rest for one single day?" he snapped, cutting me off. "Selina and I are getting married this weekend. If you pull another stunt, I swear I'll—"

The call died right as the flames swallowed me whole.

Agony consumed every nerve before my eyes closed for good, his unfinished threat still echoing in my ears.

But the good news is, Ethan... you don't have to swear anymore. Because I was dead.

I got dragged online by one of my lead devs.

He claimed my "Incubation Project" was a gilded cage—a trap to exploit the team and steal their personal IPs.

The truth?

I funded it out of my own pocket.

Selected candidates would get a $50,000 no-strings-attached seed fund, plus full Ivy League tuition reimbursement. It was 100% voluntary, with zero penalties for opting out.

Since the internet decided I was a toxic capitalist monopolizing their creativity, I gave him exactly what he wanted. I fired off a company-wide memo:

[To protect your creative freedom from capitalist exploitation, the $50,000 Incubation Fund is permanently abolished, effective immediately.]

[As an alternative, the monthly education allowance for all employees is now a $15 reimbursement for basic coding courses.]

The moment the memo dropped, the employees who were counting on that $50k to pay off student loans or change their lives completely lost it.

Now, they're swarming right outside my glass office door, eyes red, begging me to reinstate the program.

Tricked onto a wilderness survival reality show, I was forced to act as my fake sister’s backdrop to protect the elderly woman who raised me. My fake sister constantly staged tricks for clout, and my blood brother threatened me with fatal consequences to sweep the family’s skeletons under the rug. I stopped surrendering and uncovered scam after scam during the live broadcast. The Hart family sought to erase my past. Instead, I laid all their shameful secrets bare for the world to see.

Father calls me and Chloe into his study, and two documents already sit on the desk. On the left, the Whitfield family succession papers. On the right, the marriage agreement with the Sullivan family.

He lights a cigar, the smoke half hiding his face. "You two need to make a choice today. One of you takes over the Whitfield family. The other marries Derek Sullivan."

In my last life, Chloe took the succession papers.

She sat down in Father's office, put on an expensive suit, called in every department head, and announced she'd make the Whitfield family stronger. But she couldn't even read a warehouse ledger, didn't know which shipping route mattered most, couldn't tell flattery from threats in a family meeting.

Within three years, the south warehouse burned down, the north route slipped out of our hands, and cash kept bleeding out of the books like there was a hole in them.

Father died on a dark street, three bullets in his chest.

Chloe fled with whatever money was left, and I got married off to Derek instead.

After the wedding, he took my passport and locked me in the basement of the Sullivan estate. When I refused to sign the transfer documents, he had them cut off my water for three days straight. In family meetings, one wrong word out of me and he'd slap me in front of everyone. During an ambush, he shoved me right into the line of fire.

Later, Chloe found me. She pointed a gun at my chest, and there wasn't a trace of sisterly feeling left in her eyes. "This is all because you're useless. If you'd helped Derek keep the Sullivan family steady, Whitfield wouldn't have gone under."

I opened my eyes in a pool of blood and woke up back on this day.

The alliance between the Human Empire and the Wolf Empire has stood for centuries. The treaty requires the Human Empire to send a princess to the Wolf Empire every so often, to become the Wolf King's mate and strengthen the bond between our kingdoms. Now, it's time to honor that pact again.

Father is old now, ready to step down. My sister and I have to choose.

In my past life, Adelaide chose the throne. She thought power meant she could do whatever she wanted. Within three years, the Human Empire crumbled in her hands. At home, she bled the people dry, filling her own coffers while they starved. Abroad, her arrogance drove away our allies. The Dwarven Empire, the Serpent Empire, they all cut ties. In the end, the surrounding kingdoms banded together and attacked. The Human Empire fell in the war. Our parents died by enemy blades, and Adelaide had to flee.

And me? I went to the Wolf Empire, just like the treaty said.

On the surface, I was the Wolf Queen, worshipped by every wolf, living in the grand Wolf Court, attending state banquets. In reality, I was his prisoner. Forced to run as prey in the hunting ritual, slapped to the ground in front of the council, shoved forward as a hostage when conflicts arose.

At one banquet, Adelaide appeared in front of me, gripping a dagger, madness burning in her eyes. "This is your fault! If you hadn't been so useless in the Wolf Empire, we wouldn't have lost everything!"

The blade sank into my chest. I collapsed in a pool of blood.

When I open my eyes again, I'm back in the throne room with Father watching us.

Adelaide barely hesitates before speaking up. "I'll go to the Wolf Empire. Let Brynn take the throne."

I smile.

Foolish Adelaide. She has no idea that beneath the Queen's crown lies nothing but chains and blood.

This was the most miserable Christmas I had ever experienced.
On Christmas Eve night, my husband brought his mistress home and demanded that I, his pregnant wife, leave with nothing.
On this day, I lost my husband and also lost the child in my womb...

The High Fae were facing extinction, their bloodlines withering away.

Valerius, the Prince of the Shadow Realm, was a terrifying force of nature—ruthless and utterly cold.

I am Ella, a mere human who accidentally fell into a Shadow Rift, a mortal girl with nothing but survival on my mind.

Left with no other choice, I snuck into this shadow prince's bed in the dead of night.

On the day he pierced my chest to take my heart-blood to save the Witch Princess, I faked my death and ran away—carrying his half-Fae babies in my belly.

Years later, I was busy preening the starry wings of my seven little miracles.

He found me, dropping to his knees, as pathetic and desperate as an abandoned hound.

"Ella... do you really not want me anymore?"

I woke up to the truth that I had somehow ended up inside a mafia novel, cast as Richard’s “burdensome little sister.”
The day I was disfigured saving him, Richard held my hand and swore I was his only weakness.
He said even if the fire had turned me into a monster, I would still be his.
But I knew the truth. I wasn’t his weakness but the curse he could never escape.

Ten years ago, on the night of the fire, I stepped into an ocean of flames for him. In return, I got burns across sixty-three percent of my body and ten years locked inside his guilt.
Stella, the mafia heiress who loved Richard so desperately it bordered on madness, once stood beside my hospital bed, crying as she begged me to let him go.
“You’re his only weakness,” she said, her voice shaking. “The Miller Family already has their eyes on him… Please. Just set him free.”

So I put on a veil and married the man Richard hated most, Frank of the Miller Family.
At the wedding, Richard’s eyes were bloodshot as he grabbed my arm.
“Tell me the truth,” he demanded hoarsely. “Are you doing this willingly?”
Through the cheap veil covering my ruined face, I smiled at him. “Yes. I’m tired. I don’t want to be your burden anymore.”

But on our wedding night, Frank tore the veil from my head. He stared at my twisted, scarred face and sneered. “Jesus… you’re fucking ugly.”
When Frank pinned me down, my fingers brushed against the gun Richard had secretly slipped into my wedding dress.
Along with it was a bloodstained note. His handwriting was frantic, almost insane.
Just one word—Live.

And right now, my adoptive father was waiting at the North Dock with men from the Miller Family, ready to silence me for good.
Because the fire ten years ago, the one that burned my adoptive mother to death, was started by him.
Now everyone wants me dead.
But Richard…This time, for you, I’m going to stay alive, even if I have to crawl all the way to the gates of hell.

At my mother's funeral, I stopped outside the lounge.

Through the door, I heard Julian—my fiancé—delivering a cold warning to my father:

"You can stop obsessing over Harper, Richard. She's with me now. Don't bother her anymore."

My father immediately tried to use me to suppress him. "Don't forget you're marrying Sloane next week! If she finds out you're screwing the orphan her mother took in..."

Julian cut him off. "She'll never know. Just like she'll never know her mother didn't actually die of depression. She killed herself because she caught you two together."

Father's counterattack threw me straight into hell:

"What right do you have to judge me?! When Sloane was frantic, calling you for help, what were you doing? If you hadn't been rolling around in a hotel bed with Harper, if you hadn't lied to Sloane that you were 'on your way,' her mother would never have died!"

A violent ringing filled my ears.

I slammed the door open, stormed in, and slapped Julian across the face with every ounce of strength I had left.

The man I was supposed to marry in seven days merely turned his head. It took him exactly one second to suppress his shock.

"Since you heard everything, good. Better to accept reality now, so you don't break down later."

"For the sake of the Vance family heir you're carrying, the wedding next week proceeds as planned."

"But I have responsibilities to Harper, too. That tie won't be severed."

To protect my older sister's piano championship, my own brother crushed all ten of my fingers.
To win my sister's favor, my fiancé hired someone to kick the baby out of me.
After surviving a fire that nearly killed me, I finally woke up.
And when I returned, I blasted the hard proof of their affair and their schemes all over the internet. As I watched them lose their minds, lose everything, and drop to their knees begging for mercy, I let out a cold laugh, turned around, and claimed the top of the world!

Six days after Alexander lost all contact, I navigated my way alone to the Nightfall Gala to find him.

The guard's expression twisted into something peculiar when he heard my purpose.

"You're saying you are looking for your mate, Prince Alexander? And what is your name?"

"I am Cecilia."

The guard let out a harsh, mocking snort. "Stop causing a scene! A blind beggar trying to pull a scam? Don't think you can just impersonate her just because you know the name of the Prince's mate."

"Everyone knows the Prince just gifted Cecilia the millennia-old Abyssal Night Crystal to celebrate her pregnancy! What the hell are you?"

Just then, the giant LED screen cut to the Gala's live broadcast.

"Allow me to formally introduce my partner, Cecilia. Furthermore, she is expecting. Our family is about to welcome a new heir." It was Alexander's voice.

"Thank you all. This is the greatest gift Alexander and I could ever receive."

The moment that sweet, timid voice echoed through the hall, a string violently snapped in my brain. A sharp ringing pierced my eardrums.

—It was the voice of my twin sister, Elena.

"You have two months to live." The doctor's death sentence was still ringing in my ears when I found the receipt in his pocket.

[Four Seasons Hotel. Romance Suite. Check-in: 3:00 PM.]

3:00 PM. The exact moment I was begging the doctor for painkillers, Alexander was in a hotel bed with another woman.

I looked at him, sleeping soundly beside me. I had loved this man for five years, sold everything to help him succeed. Now, in the final countdown of my life, he gave me the most fatal blow.

"I'm exhausted from meetings," he had lied, smelling of Santal 33 and another woman's sex.

I clenched the receipt until my nails dug into my flesh. I wouldn't tell him about the cancer.

I would use whatever time I had left to make him regret ever being born.

On my birthday, I was dragged up to the attic and assaulted by several men.
I called my parents, brother, and boyfriend for help, but they all thought I was seeking attention and ruining my sister Sophie's celebration.
"Mia, stop it. We're busy preparing for Sophie's party. If you want attention, find another way."
This was the hundredth time they'd let me down.
But there won't be a hundred and first.
Because I'm already dead.

Everyone knows my husband is obsessed with me.

He's gone against the board for me, walked away from billion-dollar deals, dropped millions at charity galas. Everyone said I'd married into a fairytale. I believed it too.

Until the anonymous email.

In the photo, he was kissing a little girl's forehead—three years old, maybe four. He looked at her the way fathers do.

Three years of marriage. Countless failed IVF attempts. Then finally—I was pregnant.

I was about to tell him when his phone buzzed. He left immediately—for another woman and her child.

I was the only one who didn't know.

If the love was fake, if the marriage was fake—then I could disappear too.

In two days, the typhoon hits. My car will go off the cliff into the ocean. No one survives that.

I'll disappear from his world forever—me and the baby he doesn't know about.

My billionaire lover brought out a bespoke mermaid gown, declaring he would marry whoever could fit into it.
But in my past four lives, every woman who tried it on—whether an ambitious imposter or me, his true love—was brutally tortured and murdered by him.
In my fifth rebirth, the butler knocked on our door with a polite smile, "Mr. Voss says his true love is among you."
Since we four women would die no matter who wore it...
We exchanged a look in the dead silence, turned our heads in perfect unison, and locked our eyes onto the only man in the room.

After accidentally traveling to the post-apocalyptic wasteland, I treated the human leader as a brother, continuously supplying him with modern resources.

Who knew he would conspire with the beastman chieftain to kill me, just to prevent me from rescuing others.

But what he didn't know was that I could travel back to the modern world.

While those two leaders of the wasteland thought themselves invincible...

I healed my wounds, and returned to the wasteland with military hardware and food, storming back to their base!

You want my life?

Then pay for it with your own!

My best friend could charm any man alive. I just didn't know how — not until it was too late.
Every boyfriend I ever had, she'd get close, turn on that pull of hers, and wait. They always fell. Then she'd send me the proof with the same sweet line: "Babe, you should be thanking me. I just saved you from another cheater."
Five boyfriends. Five "loyalty tests." Five relationships she destroyed and called it a favor.
I ran. Started over in a new pack. Found my fated mate — Callum Drake, the Alpha of Silver Ridge. For the first time in years, I felt safe.
On our mating ceremony day, she walked into my dressing room wearing an attendant's uniform.
She drugged my wine. Put on my robes. Crawled into my mate's bed.
I caught her. Threw her out. Thought it was over.
Months later, I was bleeding out in labor — and my mate stood over me, refusing to save me, because he'd been in love with her the whole time.
I died on that table.
When I opened my eyes, I was back. Same day. Same ceremony. Same best friend, same smile.
This time, I didn't scream.

After dreaming of making love with Anthony for the 99th time, I finally decided to confess my feelings to him.
But just as I reached the bodyguards' private lounge, I saw him under the moonlight, reverently kissing a photo of my sister Seraphina.
After he released his desires, a werewolf quietly appeared:
"Alpha Anthony, if Thea knew your true identity as the king of the Thunder Tribe, she’d probably be shocked."
Anthony smirked disdainfully:
"What does it matter? I came here only to get close to Seraphina. As for the others, I don’t care whether they live or die."
His words sent me fleeing in despair. My heart felt as if it were being crushed by a massive wolf’s claw, the pain so intense that tears streamed down my face.
So it was all just my own wishful thinking.
Resigned, I walked into my father’s room and said:
"Father, I am willing to enter a political marriage with Alpha Caleb."
On the Moon Goddess Festival three days later, I would marry the brutal Alpha Caleb.
And as for Anthony—I would personally deliver him to Seraphina.

My boyfriend Tyler, his childhood sweetheart Chelsea, and I went on a road trip through the Australian Outback in the Northern Territory.

A few scrawny, yellow-coated dogs lingered by the roadside. Chelsea insisted on getting out to feed them.

I warned her they were dingoes, vicious predators that ruled this desert.

Her eyes welled up and she called me heartless. Tyler jumped in too, saying I grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth, that I didn't get what it was like for regular people, that I couldn't even spare a couple of hot dogs.

She forced the door open and ran out. The pack lunged at her. Her screams tore through the air. Tyler cowered in the car, shaking.

I was the only one who got out to help her.

Chelsea scrambled back into the car, but Tyler slammed the door shut and locked it.

I never forgot his face pressed against the window, terrified and selfish. I never forgot the despair of feeling fangs rip through my throat.

After I died, the two of them flew back to the States and posted a sobbing video, claiming I was the one who'd insisted on getting out to take pictures and set the dogs off.

The online hate came for my family, all of it, all at once. My parents, both with weak hearts, collapsed under the stress. Neither one made it.

My whole family, destroyed because I couldn't stop caring for one second.

When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day the trip started.

I would often find myself staring into my son Leon's eyes, lost in thought.
One, a deep azure blue, was inherited from his father. The other, however, was amber.
I couldn't understand it. While Leon's lineage is indeed mixed, his other eye should have been silver—the mark of my bloodline, the symbol of the royal werewolf lineage.
Yet it wasn't. This question had haunted me for five years.
Then, by chance, I came across an ancient book in my husband Carlisle's study. It detailed the hereditary rules of eye color for the royal werewolf line:
Regardless of which race they intermarry with, the direct descendants of the royal werewolves will always inherit at least one distinctive eye.
This meant that a son I bore would definitely have silver pupils.
My hands began to tremble uncontrollably. I shared my fear—that we might have brought home the wrong child—with Carlisle.
He flew into a rage, snatched the book from my hands, and threw it into the fireplace.
"Selene, are you doubting my fidelity? Or suspecting that our son isn't your own? If Leon knew you doubted him, his heart would be shattered."
Carlisle stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Watching his retreating figure, my heart grew cold, piece by piece.
His reaction confirmed my worst fear, the one I desperately wanted to deny.
With the full moon just seven days away, I decided to abandon the plan of taking Leon back to the royal werewolf clan.

After Nicholas got engaged, his assistant handed me a plane ticket.

"Leave. Don’t ever show your face in Silverlight City again."

"Otherwise, Mr. Jackson has more than enough ways to ruin you."

All those years I spent by his side, I was admired by everyone, living in the spotlight.

Yet when I finally left, I was reduced to a pitiful, laughable sight.

I said, "Fine."

But that very night, the flight plunged from over thirty thousand feet in the air.

In my last life, my brother broke my legs and my adopted sister pushed me into the ocean. My father just stood there watching, mad about the blood on his shoes.
They gave her everything that was mine. My territory, my mother's necklace, even my bedroom. I was the real daughter, the real bloodline, and I still wasn't worth half of the stray my father dragged home.
I took it all. Every insult, every slap, every scrap of love that went to her instead of me. Because I thought maybe one day they'd see me.
They never did. They killed me instead.
Now I'm back. Same night, same banquet, same girl sitting across from me with fake tears, begging for my port.
This time I didn't hand it over. I smashed a wine bottle, slapped her face open, and told my father we're done.
He called his guards. My brother pulled a gun.
What they forgot is that my grandfather is the real power in this family. And I already sent him a message.

For nine years, I lived as my twin sister’s replacement Luna. I raised her pup as if she were my own. I treated that man as my fated mate. What I got in return was the Pack that unanimously decided I was the monster who “killed Edna”, and the sinner Ann swore should go to hell.
At Ann’s birthday banquet, I accidentally knocked over a framed photo. Ann shoved me in front of a room full of Alphas and elders, drenching me in red wine, smiling as she said I wasn’t worthy of touching anything of the House.
I thought that if I endured nine years, I could finally leave. Then Eric suddenly changed his mind.
Ann stuffed the corpse of the little bird I’d been raising into a gift box and threatened me with a sweet smile. “You’re the next.”
When I dragged my suitcase to the door, she shifted to wolf in front of everyone, slammed me to the ground, her fangs pressed against my throat.
What they didn’t expect was that my real backer had returned, the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack, my biological father, David.

I was doted to the bone by the mafia heir, Ethan — he took bullets for me, endured 99 lashes, and promised to take me to see the Southern Sea that never freezes!
But he let Ashley get pregnant with his child.
He accused me of causing Elara’s pollen allergy, and even gave the only keepsake left by my mother — a bracelet — to Ashley as an apology.
He said, "It’s just a bracelet."

During an argument, he shoved me down, causing my head to bleed, yet he rushed to the hospital with Ashley, not even bothering to look back at me.
I lay in the hospital getting stitches, and his suit still carried Ashley’s perfume. He yelled at me, "You followed me to the hospital to cause trouble!" My heart shattered, yet he still lied to me, "I only love you. After this fake wedding, I’ll take you away!"

Marriage is never an easy thing and being forced out of your home with nowhere to go, hours after you find out you've been betrayed by your husband and best friend, Tessa Carl is completely torn apart.

With no money, a home, or a family, what is she to do?

Where is she to go?

Everything is a huge mess and she's trying hard to fix it all while staying in a hotel where she meets the ever-goofy Jake Hensen and extremely hot Austin Kings.

Who will claim the damsel and win her heart?

Ryan Derrick is a cute, handsome, innocent-looking guy and also a domineering kinda person. He is not a human who has a brother by the name of Scott and a company he runs too. The two bloodlines are not human. He is a half-human and half-demon werewolf. Scott, who also works in the same company as Ryan is a supernatural being too.
This story went down a cliff when Emily decided to find a job somewhere around the new city they came in, to support her Mom.

One fateful day, she came across Ryan’s company and was set to be interviewed for a job and there she met the handsome and charming Ryan. Everything about Emily changed suddenly the moment she set her eyes on Ryan.
Right there, the inner wolf of Ryan said, “Oh my, She’s my Mate” Ryan felt the sparks between them but quickly shooed it off when Scott came in.
Scott being a supernatural being sensed it and he immediately fumed in anger because he also got to find out that Emily is his mate too.

The two brothers will have to fight for what is rightfully theirs and only an ALPHA can win this fight.

THIS IS WHEN IT ALL BEGAN…

My name is Nina, I'm 20 years of age.

  I'm the First daughter and Child of my Mom and I have a little sister too.

My Mom is a Fashion designer.

About my dad…it's a no no…for now

I, my little sis and Mom are relocating to our new home in New York city after Mom got a new contract in a Fashion Industry.

Mom earns lot of cash from that though.

But, what she doesn't know is that the kids she gave birth to are totally assholes.

Yes, I meant what I just said. We are

.

.

Everything about me was on a jackass moment until I met this one Rude asshole and more than a jackass too

His name is Ryan Gordon.

The most innocent looking, cute, more handsome and devilish in nature but in a good way..

"Nathan," the attractive redhead gasped as the man raked his fingers through her long hair, his fingers gripped at her hips while he took her savagely from behind "Fuck me harder," she begged "I want you..."
Red hair, slender figure, and light makeup - these have always been Nathan's demands for Freya, asking her to dye her hair red, telling her to lose weight, and suggesting how to wear her makeup.
Closing the video on her phone, Freya Wilson reread the text on the email to which the footage was attached:
'Before you get married, you should watch this video,'

What would you do if you received the erotic video involving your soon-to-be husband and other women before your wedding?

In a bold move, Freya chose to reject her ex at the wedding and then leave the pack, even though the cost is becoming a rogue.

When Freya was taken in and offered sanctuary by the Highland Pack, thanks to her dear friend Sienna, she believed her life was finally on an upswing.

Little did Freya know that the Alpha of the Pack, Rufus Crimson was her mate. But there is one small issue, her best friend Sienna is the daughter of Freya's fated mate!

Will Rufus accept Freya as his mate, her being the same age as his daughter? Or will they have to reject each other?

"Please, no—stop!" I begged, but Alexander just snarled, pinning my wrists above my head as he rammed his throbbing cock into my slick, unwilling pussy, stretching me wide with brutal force. "Fuck, you're so tight, you dirty little whore—take every thick inch!"

I'm Nora Frost—wait, Nora Traynor—sold like a cheap commodity by my greedy parents for $100 million to Alexander Claflin, Kingsley City's savage billionaire beast. Post-wedding, he uncovered my secret pregnancy and detonated: labeling me a cum-slut, and snarling demands to slaughter the "bastard spawn" in my womb.

The bombshell? That baby was his—conceived in our filthy, passion-fueled one-night fuckfest. He melted, worshipping me with desperate love, vowing an eternal family... until a car crash erased only me from his memory—every trace of Nora, our child, our love—while he recalled everyone else. Cue his manipulative ex, Vivian Brooks, slinking in like a venomous snake.

And I caught them mid-fuck: "Oh fuck, Alexander, pound me harder—deeper!" she wailed, "Yes! Fill me up, baby—make me scream!" "FUCK YES! I'M CUMMING!" she shrieked, his roaring climax spilling into her as they collapsed in tangled ecstasy.

Devastated, I fled. Five years later, I return with our son—a mini-Alexander, with piercing green eyes and dark hair. When he spots the boy, realization dawns: this isn't simple. As buried truths erupt and Alexander hunts me with obsessive fury, one scorching question ignites: Will our rekindled fire heal us... or destroy everything?

She sacrificed a brilliant career to be his secret wife. But on their anniversary, he gifted his precious first love a $15M piano, while tossing her a dog-eared cookbook. In that moment, seven years of silent devotion died. The countdown began.

For thirty days, she watched his other woman move in. For thirty days, she endured his neglect and cruelty. She let them believe they had won. All while quietly securing the world-class career she once walked away from.

When the clock struck zero, she boarded the flight without a look back. He was left holding the empty life she built, finally screaming a name he never truly valued—into a silence she no longer cared to hear.

I never applied to the Academy for Magical Beings and Creatures.

Which is why it was more than a little confusing when a letter arrived with my name already printed on a schedule, a dorm waiting, and classes picked out as if someone knew me better than I knew myself. Everyone knows the Academy, it’s where witches sharpen their spells, shifters master their forms, and every kind of magical creature learns to control their gifts.

Everyone except me.

I don’t even know what I am. No shifting, no magic tricks, nothing. Just a girl surrounded by people who can fly, conjure fire, or heal with a touch. So I sit through classes pretending I belong, and I listen hard for any clue that might tell me what’s hidden in my blood.

The only person more curious than me is Blake Nyvas, tall, golden-eyed, and very much a Dragon. People whisper that he’s dangerous, warn me to keep my distance. But Blake seems determined to solve the mystery of me, and somehow I trust him more than anyone else.

Maybe it’s reckless. Maybe it’s dangerous.

But when everyone else looks at me like I don’t belong, Blake looks at me like I’m a riddle worth solving.

Minerva “Mina” Hayes thought marrying Tristan Johnston meant forever—until the night their marriage was announced and he stood beside another woman, letting the world brand Mina as the shameless third party. Betrayed, pregnant, and abandoned, she vanished without a trace, vowing never to love him again.

Three years later, Mina returns—not as the broken woman he left behind, but as a powerful CEO with her own empire. Now, the billionaire who once destroyed her is desperate to have her back. But Mina has learned her lesson. This time, she refuses to be his hidden wife—she’ll be the woman who makes him regret everything.

Yet as buried truths begin to surface, the lines between betrayal and sacrifice start to blur… 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗧𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗿𝘂𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗴𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘂𝗽 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁

The most humiliating moment of my early life was when my father drove my mother and me out of our home. From a pampered heiress, I fell to the depths of a bar hostess. It was there that I encountered a man I would never forget for the rest of my life. After a one-night stand, I accepted his proposal—who could refuse someone they had admired for so long?

I thought I'd found redemption, but it turned out the pregnancy was a misdiagnosis! From then on, Raymond offered me nothing but money and sex. In this loveless marriage, I endured five years. Just when I thought my life would remain this way forever, he brought a little boy home.

Watching my stepsister's smug smile, my world crumbled. "Raymond, let's get a divorce!"

My husband is cheating, and my own family has betrayed me.
The woman he’s sleeping with? My own half-sister.
After countless nights lying in the dark, wondering what I was doing, I finally had to ask myself: is there any reason left to stay?
But my husband has become obsessed. He refuses to let me go, claiming, over and over, that he loves me.

Eleanor Clawford thought she knew what loss felt like. Her husband rode off to war with a kiss and a promise, and days later, she received news of his death along with the name of his killer: Perseus Cage, the ruthless Lycan King who conquered her pack and now demands her hand in marriage as the price of peace.

She becomes his bride—a pawn traded for a treaty. But Eleanor doesn't break. Instead, she makes a quiet vow. She will wear black to the wedding, she will sharpen her blade while he sleeps, and when the moment is right, she will bury her sword in the chest of the man who destroyed her world.

Perseus Cage never expected to want the woman whose husband he killed. He tore her wedding gown on their first night, he gave her his name, and she responded by throwing his crown into the fire. Yet every time she looks at him with that mixture of fire, fury, and pain, he feels something ancient stir inside him.

She wants his blood. The joke is on her—he already gave her his heart.

Dark. Twisted. Unforgiving. This is for readers who crave possessive kings, vengeful brides, and a love story forged in betrayal, blood, and the kind of truth that cuts deeper than any blade.

“You belong to me, Freya.”

“No,” I whispered, staring into his cold gray eyes. “I never belonged to anyone.”

Leopold Gray’s jaw tightened.

The most powerful man in the country wasn’t used to hearing the word no.

And that might be exactly why he became obsessed with me.

After losing her parents, Freya Raphael was raised inside one of the wealthiest families in the city.

To outsiders, she was the beloved niece of the Fergus family.

Behind closed doors, she was nothing more than a carefully controlled possession.

Every decision she made was monitored.

Every dream she had was taken away.

Every success she earned was stolen and handed to someone else.

But Freya learned long ago how to survive.

She smiles when she's angry.

She obeys when she wants to fight.

And she hides her sharpest claws behind the face of a perfect lady.

Then one reckless night changes everything.

After being betrayed and abandoned, Freya wakes up beside a stranger—a devastatingly handsome billionaire she never expects to see again.

Unfortunately, fate has other plans.

The stranger turns out to be Leopold Gray, the feared patriarch of the Gray family.

A billionaire kingmaker.

A ruthless empire builder.

A man powerful enough to destroy anyone who stands in his way.

And the very man her guardian plans to offer her to as a mistress.

Now Freya finds herself trapped between a possessive guardian who refuses to let her go, a dangerous billionaire determined to uncover her secrets, and a charming heir whose kindness may be hiding secrets of his own.

Everyone wants something from her.

Her beauty.

Her loyalty.

Her future.

But none of them realize that the obedient girl they think they control has been planning her escape for years.

Because Freya isn't just fighting for freedom anymore.

She's fighting for revenge.

And when Leopold finally discovers the truth about that unforgettable night...

Will he become the man who saves her—

Or the one who destroys her completely?