173 Book(s) Related to I

I died watching my step-sister smile as I fell to my death. The poison she fed me for years had finally worked, and the world called me a cheating disgrace.
Reborn six months before the Olympics, I'm back with the memory of her betrayal burning in my veins. This time, I see her every sly move coming. This time, I know about the dropper of poison she hides behind her back.
They took my gold, my family, and my life. But they made one mistake: they didn't make sure I was finished.
This time, the gold isn't the prize. It's the weapon. And I will use it to destroy them all.

For ten years, they thought I couldn't hear.

They were wrong.

I heard Braden call me his "pet" at his bachelor party.

I heard Scarlett threaten to push me off a cliff.

I heard them plotting how to split my father's two million dollar inheritance.

I heard every detail of their plan to have me committed after the wedding.

My right ear was never damaged. For ten years, I just chose selective deafness—choosing to believe their sweet lies, ignoring the harsh truths.

They saw me as a helpless deaf girl, the perfect victim.

They didn't know that victims fight back.

And I heard every fucking word.

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

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

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

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

Those sweet words I knew so well completely destroyed me.

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

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

I was once a brilliant psychology student at Berkeley, but now I've become a "hunter" in Viktor Reeves' criminal empire. My job? Using psychological techniques to seduce wealthy men and swindle them out of their money for this devil.

After each mission, I hate myself a little more. Until that day, when I met him in a coffee shop—Alexei, a documentary filmmaker with gentle blue eyes. Unlike my other targets, there was something pure and kind in his gaze. For three weeks, I crafted lies to make him fall in love with me, all while stealing his money.

Until that night, when he burst into the casino, pointing a gun at my heart. "Who taught you to seduce different men at the same time?"

Then my world collapsed—he turned out to be Viktor's own son!

I busted my ass working for five years, completely wrecked my health just to scrape together money for his eye surgery. Then I discovered—he was never blind to begin with.

When I asked him why.

"Because you owe me," Matthew stared at me with those cold eyes.

But I can't remember a damn thing...

Now I'm about to die from late-stage stomach cancer. I wonder if Matthew will be pleased?

Three years ago, Emma's life was shattered in a single night. When she awoke in the dark woods, the last face she saw became her eternal nightmare—Damien Cross, the man she once loved.

Now, her father's death and crushing debts have pushed her to the brink. Surrounded by creditors with nowhere to turn, Damien appears like a savior, offering an deal she cannot refuse: Marry me, and all debts will be erased.

"Love?" Emma laughs hysterically, "Rape first, then force me into marriage—is that your idea of love?"

"Emma, I swear I never meant to hurt you!" His voice trembles, "I love you!"

The luxurious Manhattan penthouse becomes her gilded cage. When she discovers his secret arrangements for "overseas treatment," her last thread of hope snaps. A desperate escape, shattered memories beginning to piece themselves back together...

What shocking secret lies buried in the truth?

For thirty years, I've been the perfect Mrs. Morrison. Until that night when I heard my son Dylan publicly humiliate Della at the Country Club—the orphan I rescued ten years ago, who's become more of a daughter to me than my own son ever was.
"This is what happens when you adopt stray cats," he said.
When I waited for my husband Theo to defend us, he coldly replied: "Divorce it is, then. I'm tired of settling anyway."
In that moment, Della and I made the same decision: divorce.
The 54-year-old me and 29-year-old her left the Morrison mansion with four suitcases, moving into a lakeside cabin. The men thought we'd come crawling back within days—after all, we were just two women "without financial resources."
But when we started investigating the family finances, we discovered $150,000 in mysterious expenses. All flowing to one woman—Theo's college classmate, Becca Sterling.
Cancer treatment I could understand, but when I overheard what Theo said to her at the hospital... I realized I didn't know the man I'd shared a bed with for thirty years.

I died once.

Torn apart by the fiancée of the Alpha Prince who I thought loved me, bleeding out on a cold basement floor. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back in that luxury car heading to the Royal Territory—one year ago, about to walk into this beautiful trap because I saved an amnesiac stranger named "Alex."

In my past life, I was too naive, thinking that saving a wounded stranger would lead to true love. Little did I know he was Prince Marcus Blackwood, and I was just an ordinary Omega from a remote pack. When I naively requested to become his mate at the grand royal ceremony, I was met with mockery and hostility from the nobles.

This time, I won't make the same mistakes.

When Marcus gazes at me with those deep blue eyes, promising me the whole world, all I want is to run far away. When he appears in my room, using his Alpha pressure to force me to admit my feelings for him, I remember the terror of my past life's death.

But fate gave me an unexpected gift—Ryan, that warm Beta guard captain. When I discovered he was actually the thin boy I protected twelve years ago, everything changed.

Marcus can offer me a crown and power, but Ryan gives me true freedom and respect. Now I must choose: repeat my past mistakes and become Marcus's caged bird, or follow my heart and choose real love?

But will a rejected Alpha Prince let go so easily?

The moment I found myself bound in that warehouse, I was still foolishly hoping James would come to my rescue. Four years—I had washed countless shirts for him, written innumerable papers, even helped him pursue other girls. Everyone called me lovesick, but I believed I had a place in his heart.

Yet there he stood, pointing at Emily, saying, "I choose her." As the knife pierced my chest, all I felt was endless regret.

When my eyes flew open, I'd somehow returned to the first day of senior year! What shattered me even more was learning that my savior had never been James at all, but some tattooed guy on a motorcycle?

The fake hero was still playing Prince Charming, while my actual rescuer was... where?

This time around, I absolutely won't fall into the same trap!

When neuroscience PhD candidate Elena Rodriguez desperately needs a research partner for her marriage transition study, the last person she expects to volunteer is Ethan Mitchell—her college crush and campus golden boy who always seemed out of her league.
One marriage certificate, two agendas: she needs academic data, he needs to escape family pressure. What should have been a straightforward fake arrangement becomes infinitely more complicated when Elena accidentally develops an unexpected side effect after saying "I do"—she can hear her new husband's thoughts.
"She said yes... even if it's fake, she's my wife now..."
"I've been loving her for four years..."
"Want to kiss that concentrated frown away..."
When Ethan's carefully hidden four-year crush becomes Elena's personal mental soundtrack, and she discovers every "coincidental" college encounter was meticulously planned, the power dynamics of their fake marriage flip entirely.
Turns out the best way to use mind-reading is: first hear him fall, then make him completely yours.
A brilliant academic heroine × devoted STEM hero neural synchronization love experiment. When accidental telepathy meets fake marriage, when neuroscience meets real confessions, Elena's about to use this glitch-like ability to turn her fake husband into her real forever.

"Barren. Cursed. Worthless."
Those words from my mate still echoed as he tore our bond apart in front of everyone. Four years of humiliation. Four years thinking I was broken, while he was secretly popping fertility drugs when no one was looking.
The night they cast me out, I was dying, bleeding, utterly destroyed. My own mother hurled "cursed daughter" at my face before walking away forever.
But what I found in those ancient ruins shattered everything I thought I knew.
"The cursed one wasn't me—it was HIM!"

I was the most pathetic existence on campus.

Thick glasses, baggy sweaters, walking through the cafeteria like crossing a minefield. Albert, my childhood crush of three years, publicly mocked me as "a pathetic little dog following him around." Campus queen Madison crushed me under her heel. That rainy night, I gave up completely and swore to make them all pay.

Three months later, I returned.

Bronze skin, perfect curves, stunning hair—the entire campus was buzzing about this "mystery goddess." No one recognized that I was once the pathetic Molly Baker.

When Albert discovered the truth, it was too late. The man standing beside me shocked the entire school.

I died—not in the way you'd expect, but slowly, painfully, while he was entangled with her.

He called her his savior, the woman who sold everything to rescue his failing empire. Little did he know, it was my money, my life's work, that he squandered.

The betrayal burned hotter than any flame, and I vowed he'd pay.

Now, he's gone—a leap from the heights he once ruled, his fall as swift as his rise.

"They took eight years of my life, destroyed my family, and buried the truth under a mountain of lies. I walked out of Riverside State Penitentiary with nothing but a canvas bag and a marriage contract to a man in a coma—my last desperate chance at revenge.

But some sleeping princes aren't as helpless as they seem. And sometimes, the most beautiful love stories begin with the darkest plans for vengeance.

Justice may sleep, but it never dies. And when it awakens... it changes everything."

I thought that one night's mistake would be our biggest secret, until two pink lines appeared on the pregnancy test.

Patrick was my stepbrother, the forbidden territory I should stay away from, the person I thought would never belong to me. When I saw Luna's text, when I thought I was just his drunken substitute, I decided to disappear with this secret.

But on that stormy afternoon, when he blocked my path to the clinic, when he declared to everyone on the street "This is my baby! She's the woman I love!"—that's when I knew.

He killed my parents, then saved me.

For five years, I called him Papa and carved up his enemies with grateful hands.

Until that woman claimed to carry his child—so I cut it from her belly myself.

This wasn't father-daughter love. This was the perfect revenge plot.

This wasn't salvation. This was exquisite torture.

When the truth ripped away every lie: my savior was the monster who destroyed everything I'd ever known.

Now it's my turn to raise the gun, aimed at the man I once worshipped.

Under the border blood moon, a daughter's bullet will pierce her father's heart.

Love and hate, salvation and revenge, victim and predator—when all lines blur, only blood can write the final answer.

When I was twenty, Samuel called off our engagement and chose Stella instead.

After the engagement party ended, he told me: "Stella saved my life once. Now her father wants to marry her off to that disgusting old man Harrison Burke. I can't just stand by and watch."

He said to give him three years to repay his debt of gratitude, and after three years he would come back to me.

Like a fool, I waited for him for three years.

During those three years, I went from being his fiancée to becoming his secret lover, telling myself it was only temporary.

Until that day, when he knew I had a heart condition but still made me go extreme skydiving for the sake of a business deal.

After that, I completely came to my senses and abandoned him. And he seemed to suddenly regret it.

When I woke up in the hospital after the crash, I croaked "Bro" at my brother. He stared back like I was a stranger and coldly shot back, "I'm not your brother."

Even more bizarre, he pointed at some guy with an IV stand and said, "That's your brother." I clutched my sheets, faking amnesia, and followed this "fake brother" home, only to discover his leukemia medication and hear him coughing blood in the middle of the night.

Caught between my real brother's rejection and my "fake brother's" fragility, I'm spinning a web of lies between two "brothers"—where will this case of mistaken identity drag me?

I'm Vivian Miller, USC Film School graduate and Hollywood production assistant. For three years, I used my connections and resources to build my husband Rick into one of the hottest independent producers in town.

On our anniversary night, I prepared a three-layer cake and candlelit dinner, waiting for him to come home from the Oscar after-party. Instead, I got red lipstick stains on his shirt and the lingering scent of unfamiliar perfume.

When I discovered that woman was Oscar-nominated actress Amy Williams, everything clicked. She was his college sweetheart, his white moonlight. And me? Just her substitute.

The cruelest truth was yet to come—our wedding anniversary was Amy's birthday.

After our divorce, I thought leaving quietly would give me a fresh start. I was wrong. Amy wanted to destroy me completely. Online harassment, job offers rescinded, fans attacking me on the street... she wanted me erased.

But what she didn't know was that every project idea in Rick's company came from me. Those copyrights belonged to me all along.

Golden Globe red carpet, under the spotlight, when I stood before Rick and Amy, all of Hollywood had no idea what was about to unfold.

I thought I was saving a homeless man. I had no idea I was falling in love with Wall Street's most dangerous player.

When I found Ryan digging through garbage, he couldn't use my washing machine or figure out the coffee maker—a perfect man who needed my care. But why did he speak French like a native? Why did expensive watches keep "accidentally" appearing in his belongings?

When my family business suddenly faced bankruptcy, he always showed up at the perfect moment with mysterious funds and flawless solutions. I started to suspect something, but it was too late—I was already deeply in love with this enigmatic man.

Until that night at New York's most luxurious engagement party, when the spotlight hit the stage: "Ladies and gentlemen, let's welcome the second son of the Montgomery family—Ryan Montgomery!"

I stared at the stranger in a tuxedo on stage, that face I'd kissed countless times. He was the brother of Matthew Montgomery—the man I was supposed to marry!

Was it all calculated? Was my kindness just a pawn in their brothers' power game?

The day I walked in on my boyfriend screwing that blonde tramp, I dropped the homemade tiramisu right there on the floor—our two-year relationship smashed to bits, messier than the splattered cream.

I ducked into a bar, slamming back whiskey, when this guy in a sharp black suit sidles up, his voice smooth as silk laced with bourbon. I spat out, "Help me forget him," but ended up totally lost in the presidential suite. He backed me against the wall, tore open my blouse, his tongue circling my nipple before biting down hard, leaving me breathless. "You taste like candy, baby—tonight, I'm gonna eat you up."

But then my boyfriend FaceTimes, spots the guy behind me, and loses it, screaming, "Dad!"

I went ice-cold—my hookup was my boyfriend's stepdad? Even worse, this thirty-three-year-old powerhouse was Brooklyn's deadliest mob boss.

What began as a vengeful fling spiraled into a forbidden nightmare?

For three years, I've watched his routine so intently my eyes have calloused. Detective Nate Blackwood—the man who swore in court my parents "resisted arrest and assaulted officers"—became my only reason to keep breathing.

I approached him through his lost brother, crafting a gentle persona, manufacturing chance encounters, always with odorless, tasteless poison tucked away in my bag. But when he instinctively shielded me during the restaurant robbery, when the light in his eyes as he said "family is everything" made me falter—I panicked.

How could the man I've hated for three years make my heart race? In this revenge-driven charade, who's really falling into whose trap?

What if your greatest sacrifice became your deepest regret?

Sarah Miller believed love meant unconditional support—abandoning her nursing degree, working double shifts, and funding her husband's coding dreams. When Jake's app hit one million downloads, she thought they'd finally taste success.

But success brought shame, not gratitude. Jake demanded a "low-key marriage," listed himself as "Single" on LinkedIn, and denied his family on national TV. Sarah wasn't a wife anymore; she was a stain on his success.

When their daughter Emma was dismissed as "the help's kid," Sarah understood a brutal truth: gaining everything means losing yourself, while losing it all can make you whole.