242 Book(s) Related to who owns gushers

"Only one life jacket left!" a crewman shouted as the cruise ship sank.
My husband, Captain Harrison, looked torn between me—his pregnant wife—and Emma, his first love.
Last time, he gave me the jacket, intending to die with Emma. But he survived, and she drowned. To avenge her, he smothered our newborn. "You stole her life," he snarled. I killed him for my baby, bleeding out beside him.
Waking to the deafening sirens, I realize I’ve been reborn. This time, who will get that final life jacket?

Following Aunt Helen’s sudden death and the exhausting funeral arrangements, strange things began happening at home.
A lingering warmth on an empty sofa. Faint footsteps echoing in the hallway late at night.
I couldn't shake the creeping certainty that a third person was hiding in the house with my husband and me.
My husband brushed it off, insisting it was nothing more than grief and severe insomnia playing tricks on my mind, and told me not to overthink it.
Then, one morning, he walked through the front door, briefcase in hand, his eyes heavy from an obvious all-nighter. "The institute's data was a total disaster," he explained with a tired sigh. "I was stuck at the lab all night."
I froze, completely at a loss.
"But you came home last night," I stared at him, my voice trembling. "We were in bed, making love for half the night."
He frowned, looking at me with the cold, clinical detachment of a doctor examining a patient. "Maeve, I didn't set foot in this house last night. You need to stop imagining things..."

I was dragged to the stand of the MRI Memory Court by my own flesh and blood.

Their demand? To forcibly extract my kidney to keep their uremic adopted daughter alive.

A guilty verdict meant losing not just my bodily autonomy, but my freedom for the rest of my life.

Bathed in the global spotlight, my parents performed as tragic heroes, while their adopted saint cried a river of deceit.

They thought they had cornered the perfect victim, waiting for the world to send me to the slaughter.

But the moment the memory holograms ignited and reality bled through, the hunters instantly became the hunted.

"Why did you marry me?"

"Because I had no other choice."

The day my grandfather fell critically ill, I was abandoned by my boyfriend of seven years and lost my last pillar of support.

To fulfill my grandfather's dying wish, I married Charles William, a man I had never met.

Cold, arrogant, dangerous—that was my entire impression of this new husband.

It wasn't until after my grandfather's death that I discovered the William family harbored a shocking secret.

They weren't ordinary people at all.

And Charles was actually the future leader of the werewolf clan.

Facing my father's greed for the inheritance, my shattered family, and one crisis after another, I could only fight back step by step on my own.

Yet that man who had despised me from the start always appeared by my side whenever danger struck.

I thought this marriage was merely a transaction.

Until one late night, when Charles trapped me in his arms, his golden beast eyes locked tightly onto me.

"Daisy, you're already my wife."

"Isn't it too late to think about running now?"

Rosalind Fenwick has been the Alpha's disappointing daughter for seventeen years, scarred, overlooked, engaged by arrangement to a boy who looks through her like glass. She has also been dying in her sleep every night since she turned sixteen, murdered in a dream that never changes, by a man wearing a crown of antlers. When the dream finally finishes, something ancient wakes up inside her instead of dying. Emrys Caldwell, heir to the empire that swallowed her father's pack whole, recognizes the thing looking out of her eyes immediately. He should. He is the one who put it there.

Two different people who shared the same fate…

One is a demon alpha while the other is just a human.

Her life feels as if it's shrouded in the mist.

"Who is a friend and who is a foe? Or is everyone from her pack a foe?"

She can't tell.

" Is the one approaching her through the mist?"

"Is it a devil or an angel? Have they come to save her or to destroy her?"

The truth is in front of her but she's finding it extremely hard to know the truth.

Even the faintest mist can't hide the truth.


Diego has been searching around the whole pack just for a virgin maiden who would be able to retrieve his dead lover who died pathetically.

Finally, he found one but it seemed heaven was making a joke on him as the only virgin he found during his thousands of years of search happened to have the exact face as his dead lover Annie.

The worst scenario for Diego was the moment the lady whose name is Nadine felt any slight pain he too wasn't left out as he felt the same way he did.

She cries and he cries also.

The moment she's not breathing the moment he stops breathing also

Would Diego want to risk anything to retrieve his dead girlfriend?
Find out as we drive into the journey.

Travis Savage and I were a notorious public pair, bound together by nothing but hatred.

In the glittering, indulgent world of Chicago, he was an untouchable mafia king who ruled with absolute power, making and breaking rules on a whim. And I? I was the wife he loathed above all others in his criminal empire.

It all started when my parents lost their lives saving him, gunned down by his rivals. After their deaths, he kept me close as I grew up, and eventually, our marriage became what everyone expected. For a long time, he was my only anchor in this lonely world.

Once, he’d knelt before me and sworn to protect me for the rest of my life.

Now, he hated me.

He hated that I refused to sign the divorce papers, that I stood in the way of him running off with Renee Sutton — the orphan girl he claimed to have rescued off the streets.

He let her walk all over me and flaunt herself openly in front of me. To get back at them, I leaked their sordid secrets overnight across all of Chicago: their flirty messages, their hotel stays. Word spread through both the criminal underworld and high society alike, leaving the pair mocked and shunned by everyone.

Our marriage had rotted away years ago, worn thin by endless mutual resentment. It was stagnant, foul, and long dead.

Until three days ago.

A string of ambushes left Travis a hunted man. While swerving to avoid an oncoming truck, he was involved in a devastating car crash.

He lay unconscious in the ICU for three full days. When he woke, he claimed he’d forgotten every ounce of the nine years of hatred between us. In his mind, he was still nineteen — the age when he loved me with everything he had.

When I was nine months pregnant, my husband, Torin, forced doctors to extract my baby's cord blood to save his ex-wife's son. My baby died of suffocation ten minutes after birth, right before my eyes.
Instigated by his biological mother, my stepson sneaked into my room late at night and poured silver powder all over me. My skin rotted; the scars would last forever.
Later, the hospital ward caught fire, cutting off my escape. On the brink of life and death, Torin glanced back at me, scooped up his ex-wife, and walked into the safe zone without looking back.
Even later, he knelt in the ruins, hands dripping with blood, digging through the rubble brick by brick.
Until his subordinate stepped up behind him and choked out, "Alpha... we found the Luna's body."

On the day I gave birth to my daughter, Iris, my husband Hollis pushed open the hospital room door, dragging a four-year-old boy by the arm. Eyes red and welling with tears, he said, "Look who I brought home."
My mother-in-law wept tears of joy. My son, Felix—who supposedly died in the winery fire five months ago—had returned "from the dead."
The whole room was crying over this miracle, but my blood ran cold: since the second he walked through that door, Hollis hadn't spared a single glance at our newborn daughter.
I secretly collected a DNA sample from the boy and sent it for expedited testing. The results confirmed it: this wasn't my son at all. He was Hollis’s illegitimate child with another woman.
That same night, I pulled up the nursery's hidden camera footage and watched with my own eyes as this man injected poison into Iris’s breast milk. Soon after, he brazenly moved his mistress—my personal assistant—into my home.
A towering wave of hatred consumed me. I swore I would make them pay in blood...

"You're going to run on the count of three, Janice Cross," He whisper. "And make sure you don't let us find you."
"No… Lucian."
I moved my gaze to the men at either side of him, willing—begging them to say something.
Help me. "Calder, please… Aiden…"
Both turned their heads to the side. They couldn't even look me in the eyes as they chose their brother.
"One."
"Lucian…"
"Two."
"I didn't mean to."
"Three."


After losing the man she believed she would marry and her parents within a week, Janice just wants to care for her sick sister. She doesn't want a man. She doesn't want three men.
But one night is enough to change her life and point her in a new direction.
Aiden Grant. Calder Vaughn. Lucian Graves.
She doesn't expect the line to blur when it comes to these older men.
And when it comes to an end, she does not expect these men to continue wanting her as badly as she wants them.

“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.”

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'?"

I can't breathe. Every touch, every kiss from Tristan set my body on fire, drowning me in a sensation I shouldn't have wanted—especially not that night.
"You're like a sister to me."
Those were the actual words that broke the camel's back.
Not after what just happened. Not after the hot, breathless, soul-shaking night we spent tangled in each other's arms.
I knew from the beginning that Tristan Hayes was a line I shouldn't cross.
He wasn't just anyone, he was my brother's best friend. The man I spent years secretly wanting.
But that night... we were broken. We had just buried our parents. And the grief was too heavy, too real...so I begged him to touch me.
To make me forget. To fill the silence that death left behind.
And he did. He held me like I was something fragile.
Kissed me like I was the only thing he needed to breathe.
Then left me bleeding with six words that burned deeper than rejection ever could.
So, I ran. Away from everything that cost me pain.
Now, five years later, I'm back.
Fresh from rejecting the mate who abused me. Still carrying the scars of a pup I never got to hold.
And the man waiting for me at the airport isn't my brother.
It's Tristan.
And he's not the guy I left behind.
He's a biker.
An Alpha.
And when he looked at me, I knew there was no where else to run to.

"Do you enjoy this? Ignoring me like I don't exist? Do you have any idea how humiliating this feels, waiting for you like some fool?" After three years of a cold, loveless marriage, Selene Henderson finally gathers the courage to walk away from her distant billionaire husband, Sebastian Kingsley.
She's ready to file for divorce... until a tragic accident changes everything. When Sebastian wakes up with no memory of the woman he once pushed away, Selene finds herself trapped in a marriage she was desperate to escape—this time with a man who suddenly looks at her like she's his whole world.
But can love born from broken memories survive the truth of their painful past? Or will the secrets she's been hiding destroy them all over again?
"Are you always this shy around your own husband, wife?" his voice dropped into a low, dangerous growl, his hands anchoring me against the wall.
"We didn't... we didn't use to do this," I gasped, trying to look away from his piercing gaze.
He leaned in, his breath hot against my lips. "Then your body has a better memory than my brain. Because right now, it's telling me you belong exactly right here."

“He dies to grow stronger. The Tower wants him dead.”

On an ordinary night in Jaipur, the sky splits open and a colossal black tower appears above the city.

Within hours, the same towers rise across the world.

A mysterious voice echoes through every phone, every television, every mind.

“Welcome, players. Enter the Tower and earn power beyond imagination.”

Those who step inside quickly learn the truth.

The Tower is not a game.

It is a brutal trial where monsters roam, alliances break, and death is common.

Millions enter.

Most never return.

Arjun Rathore never planned to become a hero. He was just another engineering student trying to survive in a world that suddenly changed overnight. But on the day he enters the Tower, something impossible happens.

A strange message appears before his eyes.

“Hidden System Detected.”

“Karma Ability Activated.”

Moments later, Arjun is killed by a monster on the first floor.

But instead of dying… he wakes up twenty-four hours earlier.

The same day begins again.

At first, he believes it’s luck.

Then it happens again.

And again.

Every time Arjun dies, time rewinds.

Every mistake becomes knowledge.

Every defeat becomes experience.

But the Tower is watching.

And Arjun soon discovers something terrifying.

He is not supposed to have this power.

Somewhere inside the Tower, something ancient has noticed him.

Something that hunts players who break the rules.

Now Arjun must climb the Tower, uncover its secrets, and survive enemies far stronger than himself.

Because if the Tower discovers what he truly is…

Not even death will save him.

“Where are you going, Vesper?”

I looked at my husband’s hand blocking the elevator door—and then at Blythe standing behind him, wearing the smile of a woman who already believed she had won.

“Somewhere my child and I are not treated like tools.”

For eight years, I had built my life around Rhys Hawthorne. I worked beside him, protected his business, became his wife, and carried his child. But when I needed him most, he chose Blythe.

Then they accused me of a three-million-dollar corporate scandal, froze my access, blocked my resignation, and even withheld my acceptance letter to a prestigious design school in Milan.

They thought a pregnant woman had nowhere to go.

They were wrong.

With a professor, a lawyer, a trail of evidence—and my unborn daughter beside me—I am finally ready to fight back.

But there is one thing I still don't know…

Why is Blythe so desperate to keep me from leaving?

Noah, usually inseparable from his father, had spent the entire week insisting that only I take him camping. His declared mission: mastering "real survival skills"—a not-so-subtle jab at his dad's preference for cushy glamping.
Liam played along, hamming it up as he swung our son goodbye. But beneath the teasing jealousy, something felt off. He packed the trunk too fast. Checked the gas without being asked. Almost assembly-line efficiency.
And that line about a last-minute client flying in from Chicago? Didn't sound like bad luck. Sounded like an excuse.
All week, he never pushed back. Just quietly, almost eagerly, waited for us to leave.
I figured he wanted the house to himself: scotch, cigars, silence.
Then the call came—and I got it.
He hadn’t cleared the house for peace and quiet.
He’d cleared it for her.

Introduction: Three years ago, to pay for my sister's medical treatment, I willingly took on the role of a servant to the wealthy heiress Daisy, becoming a smuggling criminal and struggling to survive amidst humiliation. Daisy's family, with their cruel hearts, took advantage of the impending apocalyptic cold wave to murder both my sister and me. Reborn, I am determined to rewrite our fate. When hunters who revel in harming unarmed civilians besiege our shelter, I raise my gun—in this apocalyptic cold wave, anyone who dares to harm my sister will die!

I was the unluckiest kid in my family—always the one pulling the black-tipped stick from that pretty little "Fairness Jar."
In our house, red meant new dresses, Disneyland, and a goodnight kiss from Mom. Black meant endless chores, lockup in the attic, and the kind of hunger that ate you from the inside out.
Mom loved to stroke my hair in front of the neighbors. "God gives everyone a fair shake," she'd say. "Riley's just a little unlucky, is all."
I believed her for fourteen years.
Until I had an asthma attack and died on that dusty attic floor.
The moment my soul slipped free, I looked down at the overturned Jar, its sticks scattered across the floorboards—and I finally understood why I'd drawn black every single time.

Dorian, my boyfriend of three years, was a partner at a top-tier Boston law firm. He was gentle, refined, and absolutely flawless.
A week ago, he buried his face in my neck late at night, whispering that the city was suffocating him. He wanted to take me back to his hometown to meet Octavia, the grandmother who had single-handedly raised him.
I agreed without hesitation.
But on Crane Island, every night Dorian would slip out of our bed, using Octavia's gout as an excuse.
Until that night. I crept barefoot to Octavia’s door and pressed my ear against the wood.
What I heard wasn’t a sick old woman. It was Dorian’s heavy panting, mixed with the shameless, breathy moans of a young woman...

In bed, he gripped my hips, whispering, "Principessa." In public, he was Cosimo—the ruthless mafia don who dismissed me with an icy, "Piccola."
For three years after he bought me, he never touched me. But a year ago, when Caterina returned, everything changed. He became a man possessed, tearing my dresses to shreds in the dead of night, claiming me with wild fury. He even promised to marry me in seven days.
On a storm-drenched afternoon, clutching my positive pregnancy test, I rushed to his private club to surprise him.
But as my hand touched the doorknob, Cosimo’s cold warning drifted through the door.
"Marcellino, know your place as a double. My things—especially Serenella—are strictly off-limits."
My blood ran cold. I peeked through the gap.
Cosimo sat on the sofa, completely indifferent. And by the pool table stood a man with a face identical to his.

Warning : 21+
(This story will contain adult content, violence, murder, and weapons)

"Do you really not remember me, Arandelle? I am the great Diavolos, I am your king, I am your master. I created you and you have come this far, all because of me."

"That's not true. I don't know you! I don't know who you are!"

"Hahaha... you're so funny, my baby girl. You are my beautiful sword. I want you back, and you must return to me. I will take you to where you belong, whether you like it or not!"


Nami decides to follow the advice of Levi, the young, super-genius professor, to join the Yeager Academy, a training ground that forges new Yeager soldiers to eradicate the monsters of Greek Legend that have reappeared in modern times through mysterious holes known as the gates to hell after a solar eclipse 28 years ago.

Despite being considered a troublemaker, armed with her immense strength and incredible speed, Nami manages to become humanity's strongest soldier alongside Prince Jacob Konstantinides, the king's second son, who considers her as his greatest rival, Kael Okeanos, a mysterious singer capable of creating storms and Aiden Nikolaidis, her childhood friend who reappears in her life as a half-robot.

The battle with the monsters brings Nami face-to-face with Adonis Zephyr, the most feared mafia leader and considered the incarnation of Diavolos, the demon king who opened the gates of hell to lure his beautiful, powerful weapon "Arandelle" once owned by the descendants of the three gods, Zeus, Hades, and Poseidon for back into his hands as the creator of Arandelle.

They say Caspian Vale has a body count higher than his net worth. I don't care about either.

I only care that my brother's last voicemail spelled his name like a curse.

I didn't apply to Vale Industries for a paycheck. I applied for a funeral.. his.

Then he proposed. Not with a ring but a contract. My mother's hospital wing for my signature on a marriage certificate. I said yes because saying no would've been too easy and dumb.

Here's the thing about monsters okay??
They’re only scary until you see them brush their teeth. Until they hold your hair back. Until they get jealous over a waiter's glance and you realize you like it.

One night and one mistake. Now I'm digging through my brother's past and finding holes I didn't create just because the shooter wasn't Caspian.

The shooter was aiming at me.

But Caspian? He just took the blame like a man who's been waiting to fall.

I came to destroy a king. I didn't expect to find a martyr wearing a crown of thorns and a wedding band I can't take off.

In that case, let the game begin.

To give my daughter, Lily, a childhood connected to nature, I put on worn-out overalls and carved out a small vegetable patch at the edge of the estate.
That was until today, when a vicious dog lunged without warning, sinking its teeth into Lily's calf. Blood instantly stained the dirt.
I threw myself over my daughter like a madwoman to protect her, only to be viciously whipped across the face with a diamond-studded leash.
"Where did this lowly gardener come from! You hurt my dog—can your two worthless lives afford to pay for it?"
A young woman in a haute couture white dress, her pregnant belly protruding, sneered and waved her hand. "Where is security? Beat this crazy, pathetic woman and her little thief of a bastard to death, and throw them out of the estate!"
Holding my convulsing daughter, I said, "Beat us to death? Have you asked the master of the estate?"
The woman giggled coquettishly.
"My boyfriend is the master of this estate! With just one word from him, he could crush you like an ant!"
What a coincidence.
The "masters of the estate" she spoke of... I know them both.
One is my husband.
And the other... is my son.

In my past life, I was shoved into oncoming traffic by my husband's widowed cousin, Isabella.
"Why do you get the perfect husband and the Romano fortune? Go to hell!"
I died, and my unborn child died with me. Up until my last breath, I thought she killed me out of purely manic, bitter jealousy.
When I opened my eyes, I was back at that exact crosswalk, rewound to the second she was about to push me.
Only this time, I stepped aside.
And I finally learned the truth. She wasn't just an envious widow—she was my husband's secret lover. And the one who paid the million-dollar bounty for my murder to steal my mafia empire was the "flawless" man sleeping in my bed.

The two met in the past at the Auxier kingdom and fell in love with the blessing of the other protectors. Their adventures begin, and after Nivia's passing, one of the Nine Protectors, Lucas Collymore, waits for nearly decades for Nivia Genesis to be reincarnated because he knows they will meet again. Fast forward to the present day, Lucas is now aware of Nivia's reincarnation is so, and another journey is about to begin for the two couples, along with the other protectors against the Blawnox.

The world changed when the Black Tower appeared on every continent.

Inside the tower were floors filled with monsters, gods, curses, relics and hard trials.

People had to climb the tower to survive.

Many groups, called Guilds formed.

Some kingdoms even fell apart.

The strong people became the leaders.

Adrian Chapman was once the best climber humanity had.

Then he became the biggest traitor.

After reaching Floor 97 Adrian got betrayed by his friends.

He and his friends had been climbing together for twenty years.

They even killed him to get the relic called the Heart of Chronos.

Instead of dying

Adrian goes back twenty years into the past.

This was before the Tower even appeared.

This time he does not want to be a hero.

He wants to become the guy that every climber fears.

He will take all the relics for himself.

He will stop heroes from becoming strong.

He will control kingdoms. Conquer the Tower by himself.

He does not care if people call him a monster.

Three weeks after my son's death, I found the blood-stained cloth doll meant to "ward off disaster" with his name stitched on it.

Right there, in the hands of my husband's mistress, who was giggling as she idly toyed with it.
 
"The psychic said my life force was too weak to keep the baby, and that I needed a substitute to take the curse."
 
"I only sewed Leo's name into the doll. I never imagined... he would actually get sick and die."
 
"Declan, do you think Leo traded his life for our baby's?"
 
Through the crack in the door, the same man who had sobbed until he passed out at the funeral was gently stroking his lover's belly. "He was just unlucky. As long as our baby is safe, that's all that matters."
 
I turned away, pulled up the invitation for Chief Medical Examiner from the International Criminal Court in The Hague that I had shelved for a month, and hit accept.

I died on the second Sunday of May.
Mother’s Day.
My biological mother, the top neurologist in the United States, was standing in front of my corpse.
She looked at the bedsores all over my body, at the ribs that had been stomped broken, and explained coldly to hundreds of cameras:
“Trash from the bottom of society, covered in needle marks like this, doesn’t deserve to dirty my dissection table.”
She didn’t know that the “social garbage” she called a pill-seeking self-harmer was the son she had abandoned ten years ago.
When the cold scalpel cut open my chest, an old photograph stained with black blood slipped out.
The moment she saw it, the woman who had stood above everyone else—
went completely insane…

At four, they shattered both my legs. At six, they ruptured my left eardrum. At seven, they took my right eye—said I'd earn more sympathy begging blind.
After twelve years in hell, my billionaire parents finally found me.
The girl who stole my life grabbed my wrist, nails digging into my skin. "Dare take what's mine, and I'll break whatever's left of your legs."
I smiled, unclipping both prosthetics to show empty pant legs. "I don't have legs left."
She was terrified.

Warning Matured Scenes Rated +18

"Because it has been two years since you and Mr. Leo separated, your admirers and fans are wondering whether you have moved on and if you are seeking another life partner." The interviewer asked.

"For the time being, I'm not searching for a new relationship considering Leo and I haven't officially divorced. I did not attempt an annulment of my marriage. I also have no intention of filing for divorce."

I will not divorce him because I do not want him to be happy with his mistress. I won’t let them be happy. They will suffer in the same way that I did. No one is going to have a happy-ever-after ending.

Leopold Fontaine, my billionaire husband, who had an affair with someone else. I'm quite informed that he didn't marry me because we were in love with each other, and that the marriage was solely for the sake of our respective businesses. Nevertheless, I agreed to the marriage because I adored him and because I was still his wife on paper—I am not going to allow anybody else to live in my home without my permission.

He has done me wrong, and I am Blossom Belmont Fontaine, his wife, who will make way for him to suffer, and they will pay the price for what they have done.

He was once the supreme commander who guarded the frontier for five long years.

When he finally returned home, he discovered a nightmare waiting for him.

His young daughter had been brutally tortured by the mafia, her blood nearly drained from her body.

His wife had suffered endless humiliation at the hands of a ruthless crime lord.

In her darkest moment, the little girl cried out in despair:

"Daddy, where are you? Please save me!"

The moment he heard her plea, his fury became unstoppable.

Alone, he stormed through the enemy's territory and wiped out the entire criminal syndicate.

When powerful families and elite assassin organizations joined forces to crush him, he sent only a single message.

Within hours, armies, mercenaries, and loyal allies from every corner of the world answered his call.

Those who dare harm his daughter will pay with their lives.

The king has returned.

And this time, there will be no mercy.

Being a female Alpha is rare, especially in a world that still doubts women in power. Every move I make is judged. Any sign of weakness would be used against me.
Love is not just love for someone like me. It is a sign of weakness.
Taking an Alpha consort feels like risking the pack my grandfather handed to me. He ruled without a mate. If he could do it without a mate, so can I.

So when fate bound me to Leo Leonidas Blackwood, my childhood friend, the one I once loved without fear, I rejected him without delay.

I chose my throne over the bond. But a mate bond does not disappear because an Alpha says no. It lingers. It pulls.

Now everyone is watching. The elders want me to have a mate. The pack wants stability. But no one asks what I want. Because loving him once broke me and choosing him again might destroy us both.

.

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT‼️
This story contains themes of BDSM, including elements of dominance and submission, bondage, name-calling kinks (such as terms like "whore"), consensual rough play, and some scenes that involve violence. If these topics could be triggering or uncomfortable for you, I strongly recommend proceeding with caution or choosing a different story.

But if you're into all this delicious chaos—welcome, and get ready for the ride of your life. Things are about to get wild. Enjoy! 😉

Why was I thinking about his lips? Was I really that starved for attention?

I couldn't tear my eyes away. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just the sheer need for something to distract me. But it wasn't just his lips. His jaw was sharp, the muscles of his neck visible beneath the fabric of his shirt. He looked like someone who could make me forget everything.

His voice broke through my thoughts. "Something wrong?"
I blinked, shaking my head, forcing my eyes to pull away from him. "No. Nothing."

I felt his gaze still on me, making me feel like he could see right through all the bullshit I was trying to wear. I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, the heartbreak, or the way he looked at me, but suddenly it didn't feel like a mistake. It felt like something I needed.

Without thinking, I stood, my body moving before my mind could catch up. My heart raced as I stepped closer to him, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. He was surprised, but I didn't care.
I grabbed his shirt, pulled him down to me, and pressed my lips to his.

I was the hottest A-list actress in Hollywood, until a few deepfaked videos of me "abusing assistants" and malicious photos of my "rotting face" dragged me straight to hell.
In just one month, I became a monster despised by the entire internet.
Facing tens of thousands of death threats telling me to "die with a rotting face."
They wanted me to die crying. I didn't. Instead, I decided to express my deepest gratitude to the bullies who ruined my life.
And my "thank you" is going to cost a fortune.
But I never imagined the real monster wasn't hiding behind a screen—he was holding the syringe.

I'm the youngest lead surgeon in our hospital's cardiothoracic department. My fiancé, Adrian Wexford, runs the whole department.

His first love, Bella Hartley, is a mediocre surgeon, but she wants to take over the surgery that should be mine before her promotion review.

In my last life, I fought for it. I told them she didn't have the skill to handle it alone, that it was gambling with a patient's life. I threatened to quit and saved the patient.

But Bella couldn't handle the gossip going around the department. She got depressed and jumped off the hospital roof.

Adrian never said a word about it. He kept treating me the same, picked out wedding rings with me, smiled and told me we'd go on our honeymoon right after the wedding.

I thought he'd let it go.

Then on our wedding day, one glass of wine in, I woke up in a freezing basement, strapped down to an operating table.

He held a scalpel and cut into me, inch by inch, his eyes bloodshot.

"If you hadn't fought so hard for that surgery, Bella wouldn't have jumped. You owe her. Pay with your life."

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the afternoon he first suggested giving Bella the surgery.

This time, I didn't argue. I just smiled. "Sure. Let Bella take the lead on this one."

They have no idea that next Tuesday, the Chief of Surgery is bringing the board and a visiting specialist to observe, unannounced.

We'll see how they explain this one.

I screamed as I burned to death while Julian ran past me to save Emma.

His first love. The girl he'd never let go of.

Eight years I spent being the understanding fiancée. The one who smiled through her endless crises. The one who died alone because he chose her panic over my screams.

When I opened my eyes again, I was standing at the altar of St. Patrick's Cathedral. Julian was leaning in, voice low—we needed to pause the ceremony. Emma was having a panic attack at the airport.

Last time, I'd said yes.

Not this time.

I looked at the man I'd died for and smiled.

Then I threw my bouquet at his face.

I turned and walked straight to the man who made Wall Street sweat. Julian's worst enemy.

Victor Kane.

"Go save her," I said. "I need a new groom."

Every she-wolf in the Blackwood Pack envied me.
Olivia Klein, the lowest-ranked Omega who married the most powerful Alpha, Dominic Blackwood.
Yet none knew the truth of my torment.
The Phoenix mark on my neck made me Dominic Blackwood’s Luna—but it never made me his choice.
For five years, I endured his hatred, the pack’s scorn, and the crushing weight of a prophecy no one believed.
And when the car crash nearly stole our unborn child from me, my desperate calls went unanswered.
Instead, Dominic moved his ex into our bedroom.
That’s when I understood: prophecies lie. Marks fade. And some battles?
Aren’t worth fighting.
For the sake of my child, I was resolved to leave.
But tell me, why did that callous, heartless Alpha suddenly have regrets?

I was forced by my father to fulfill an arranged engagement with an Alpha I'd never met face-to-face. Pushing open the jewelry store door, I found my fiancé Kane spoiling his childhood sweetheart Briar, who was trying to snatch my mother’s ring. "Security! Get this stray out of here!" Briar screamed, pointing at me. When I revealed my identity, Kane sneered coldly: "What bullshit pact? I would never marry a woman like you." Briar snatched the ring and threw water at my face: "Kneel down and beg me to give it back!" When I fought back, Kane exploded in rage: "How dare you touch my woman? Hold her down!" Four warriors pinned me down as Briar laughed cruelly: "Let everyone see this delusional bitch who doesn't know her place!" They stepped on my hand while Kane watched coldly, even urging her on: "Hurry up, let her learn her lesson." Just as she was about to chop off my finger with a knife, the door suddenly burst open—"Do you have any idea whose daughter you're humiliating?"

She was his fated mate... until his first love came back.
On the eve of her wedding to Alpha Liam, Avery's world shatters when Riley returns - the adopted sister who stole her childhood, her parents' love, and now threatens to steal her future. The same Riley who left her for dead five years ago.
But history repeats itself.
As the pack chooses Riley's side again, Avery makes her decision: she won't beg for scraps of love anymore. Not from parents who replaced her. Not from a mate who hesitates. She'll walk away from Frostveil Pack and build a life where she comes first.
There's just one problem...
Now that she's leaving, everyone suddenly remembers she exists. Liam fights to claim his mate. Her parents beg for forgiveness. Even Riley plays the victim.
But a heart broken too many times doesn't heal easily.
Will Avery give them one last chance?
Or will their betrayal cost them the Luna they took for granted?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked finally.

“What I should have done a long time ago,” I replied, not turning around. “Leaving you.” My hand closed around the door handle.

“Not with my child.”


Married off to him to settle a debt that was never mine, I was nothing more than a contract… a means to an end.

An heir.

That was all Adrian Blackwood ever wanted from me.

Not my love. Not my heart. Not me. But still… I gave it to him anyway.

Year after year, I loved a man who never once looked at me the way I looked at him. And when my time was up, when the contract ended and no child tied me to him, I walked away.

Until fate played its cruel joke.

Because just when I finally left him behind, I found out I was carrying his child.

Now the man who never wanted me… refuses to let me go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I let out a cold laugh.

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

Silence fell over everyone.

I grabbed the glass water cup from the bedside table.

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

The cup smashed against the floor.

I picked up the longest shard of broken glass.

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

In my past life, my husband Pietro locked me in a dark basement and tortured me to death. My only crime? I couldn't get pregnant.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the family’s arranged marriage banquet.
Pietro was an illegitimate son, desperate to secure his status through marriage. In my previous life, he chose me—the Godfather's daughter. But this time, he publicly wrapped his arm around my ambitious stepsister, Livia.
Livia had always envied my status. She craved power and desperately wanted to be the Don's wife. Seeing them together, I knew instantly: Pietro had been reborn, too.
Don Ettore laid down the law: Whoever sired a son first would inherit Castel City.
My sister thought she had just been handed a crown.
But she didn't know the truth. The barren one... was Pietro.

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 had been Lucan Ferretti's wife for five years. I had also been the woman who took a bullet meant for him.
Four years of fertility treatments. Four years of empty rooms where a nursery should have been. Then, the day I finally get a positive test, I find something else: two secret sons, funded by my husband's money, waiting in a house I was never supposed to find.
Their names? The ones Lucan and I picked out together, years ago, in a hospital parking lot.
That night, I sat alone with the positive test still in my hand, memorizing the names he'd already given to someone else's sons.
I could have confronted him. I could have screamed, thrown things, demanded a divorce.
Instead, I find a text message. His mistress has already ordered a hit — on me, timed for our anniversary, dressed up to look like enemy retaliation.
She wants me dead before I can tell anyone I'm carrying his child.
Fine.
She can have exactly what she asked for.

In my previous life, I ran a barbecue restaurant to support my family for ten years, but my parents secretly sold the restaurant to a gang because of my younger brother's vanity in wanting him to study abroad.
An hour later, the apocalypse began, and my little shop became a god-level safe house—
Those with superpowers who enter the store have their abilities automatically copied to the store owner; the store is absolutely safe; the store owner decides who enters and who leaves.
My family ruined my amazing little shop, and they scolded me, saying, "Who told you to be unable to keep the shop?"
I was heartbroken and torn to pieces in the mouth of a zombie.
In this life, I was reborn back to an hour before the shop was taken away.
I must protect my shop!
As for those so-called family members—let them fend for themselves in the apocalypse!