2480 Book(s) Related to MY LAST VALENTINE

Layla's POV :Little did I think my world would be turned upside down. Dean and Aleck my best friends who who protected me ever since kindergarten and had always remained by my side, truly were nothing like I remembered. Ever since I was eighteen I knew and I kept it hidden, I hid it so well until it wasn't. Falling in love with your Best friends isn't something you should do especially when they're twin brothers. Our friendship was good until I ditched them for my Own sanity. Disappearing did the trick however a spur of the moment
get together with the rest of our college friends,led me to reveal some of my secrets. And some of theirs. From being accused by friends I gave up. Little did I know the get together was just a ruse for them to get back into my life and they were playing the long game, making sure I belonged to them and them only.
Dean's POV : The minute we I opened the door and saw her ,so beautiful, I knew it was either going to go our way or she ran. We fell in love with her at Eighteen,she was seventeen and off limits,she saw us as brother so we waited, when she disappeared we let her ,she thought we had no idea where she was ,she as absolutely fucking wrong. We watch her every move and knew how to make her cave to our wishes.
Aleck's POV : Little Layla had become so fucking beautiful, Dean and I decided she would be ours. She walked around the island unaware if what was coming her way.one way or the other Our best friend would end up under us in our bed and she would ask for it too.

I hate Lucas very much, even though he is my brother's best friend.

Everyone else looked at Lucas and saw a righteous gentleman. But all I looked at him and saw a malicious, self-righteous jerk.

I had proposed my feelings to him whom I had fallen in love with the moment I set my eyes on him.

However, he had crushed my feelings and went abroad the next day.

Now, he's back and undeniably, I couldn't believe that my heart still beats for the man who had crushed me so hard after several years.

Can I let go of the love I had for him or it seems like it has come to stay?

Amelia's life took an unexpected turn when she learned that she was diagnosed with a terminal illness that left her only six months to live.

Heartbroken and devastated, the last thing she had expected was to be offered a divorce agreement by her husband, Adrian, when she got back home.

Given that their contract has expired and his ex-girlfriend, who was also Amelia's stepsister, has returned, Adrian wanted Amelia to make way for her. But the last thing he had expected was what she requested as compensation for the divorce.

What did Amelia really request as compensation for the divorce?

What happens when Adrian finds out that the reason why he has been keeping his feelings from Amelia was all lies and that who he wants to leave Amelia for isn't who she really is?

What happens when Adrian tries to win back the woman who he has neglected and sometimes mistreated for no reason only to find out that she's diagnosed with a terminal illness and that she has only a month remaining to live?

Eva Fransis had everything—until the people she loved most took it all away.

Drugged and betrayed on her 18th birthday by her best friend, Eva's perfect life crumbled in a single night. A desperate escape led her into the arms of a stranger, and one forbidden night left her pregnant and alone.

Forced into a marriage she never wanted, Eva endured years of abuse, humiliation, and heartbreak—all while her husband lived off her family's wealth. The final blow? Catching him in bed with the very woman who destroyed her life.

Now, Eva is done being a victim.

She wants a divorce. She wants her freedom. She wants to give her children the life they deserve.

But her husband refuses to let her go—not out of love, but greed.

And just when she thinks things can't get more complicated, a powerful stranger appears, claiming to be the real father of her children.

He wants them back.

He wants her back.

She spent years protecting her heart. Now she must protect her children—even if it means facing the man from that unforgettable night.

Can she break free from her past? Or will she be stolen by the man who already owns a piece of her?

Diane Ashford’s only crime was being overweight.

Because of this, she was bullied by her stepbrothers, her parents ignored her existence, and she became the object of ridicule at college.

Despite all this, the only person who seemed to love her was her boyfriend, Liam Quin. He was everything to her, and she clung to him because he took her as she was.

After getting married, Diane was thrown into despair. Liam no longer looked at her. He used her, betrayed her, and took a mistress, comparing her to how beautiful and slim she was.

On the night he files for divorce, Diane loses everything, including her life.
But with death came a twist of fate.

Diane wakes up years earlier, in a slimmer, younger version of herself, with a thirst for revenge. She was determined to take back everything that was stolen: her dignity, her power, and her future.

Her stepbrothers—notorious leaders of the Steel Serpent motorcycle club—were her first victims. And she planned to use them to get her revenge on the man who shattered her heart.

But what happens when Diane discovers that revenge comes at a price, and that the line between justice and desire can be dangerously thin.

Her brothers want her, yet the scars of the wounds they inflicted on her run deep.

As she navigates a world of dangerous motorcycle gangs, corrupt elites, and forbidden passions, will Diane rewrite her fate? Or will she get lost in the arms of the men she’s supposed to hate?

For three years, Vivian secretly dated her best friend's brother. On her twenty-fifth birthday, he promised her everything would change. Instead, she watched him publicly claim another woman. Her stepsister. The same woman who had stolen her family, her inheritance, and now the man she loved. Only then did Vivian realize the truth. She was just the substitute.​
Heartbroken and determined to reclaim her late father's legacy, Vivian agrees to an arranged marriage. But she walks into the wrong private room. And proposes to the wrong man.​
"Let's get married. One year. No strings attached."​
The stranger studies her for a moment before smiling.​
"Fine."​
Until she finds herself married to the last man she ever expected. Zayn Harris. The billionaire everyone fears. And her ex-boyfriend's greatest rival.​
At first, their marriage is just a contract. No love. No promises. No future. But every time someone tries to humiliate her, Zayn is there. Protecting her. Defending her. Choosing her. For the first time in her life, Vivian is someone's first choice.
Unfortunately for Caleb, he realizes that too late. Because the woman he threw away is now wearing another man's ring. And unlike him, Zayn has no intention of letting her go.

Leaving everything Lily had behind, she moved to a far countryside Pack and made sure no one would be able to find her anymore. Her perfect life back then turned upside down raising twin children with her under a small Pack a kind-hearted stranger brings them into. She was determined to live her life being tied and stuck to her poor situation when out of nowhere her ex-boyfriend, Wade, whom she left hanging years ago when she ran away came to visit the Pack she’s currently residing in. The worst part is that he will spend his stay under the same roof with her. Would their interrupted love rejoin this time around? Or the bitterness of the past will prevail.

When I found my first love, I learned that loving and losing are almost synonymous. A victim of injustice, I was forced to leave him without a goodbye. And now, all that's left are secrets and memories of a love cut short.


Alissa Blake and Holden Young haven't seen each other in years, but when a near-fatal accident brings them together, the emotions that still burn between them become impossible to ignore. Holden, now a rock star, must balance his hectic new life with the intensity of having the love he lost without any explanation.

But the past doesn’t disappear so easily, and no matter how hard Alissa tries to bury that dark phase of her life, the passion that never faded will force her to confront the secrets she's kept locked away.

In the blink of an eye, the past and present collide once again. Will fate give them a second chance? Or are some love stories destined to remain incomplete?

“Harriet, I will pay you twenty-five thousand to pose as my wife.” Gino’s eyes held mine, his gaze steady. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need someone who can play the part of my wife for a few weeks. I have a business deal that will close soon, and my… associates need to see me as a happily married man. That’s where you come in.”
I felt like I was trapped in some bizarre dream. A fake marriage for twenty-five thousand dollars? It was unbelievable, but… the money was tempting. And the idea of being Gino’s wife, even if just for show, was… intriguing.
Harriet leaves her old pack after realizing Alpha Damon was never serious about her. Rejected for a better woman, heartbroken and with nowhere to go, she soon finds herself in the city where she meets Billionaire CEO Gino. He is everything she could ever dream of, and things seem almost too good to be true when he offers a job and money to be involved in a fake marriage. Will Harriet be able to keep her side of the deal, or will feelings get in the way? What will happen when Alpha Damon realizes his mistake and that Omega Harriet was the one he wanted all along?

She lost her child, her womb, and the man she thought was her forever.

After years of miscarriages, Elara finally agrees to let her best friend carry her baby, only to discover that her husband has been sleeping with the surrogate and plotting her death. The final betrayal shatters her, until she uncovers one thing that changes everything: he only married her for her wealth, and now plans to steal it all.

But Elara isn’t as helpless as he thinks. Beneath her gentle exterior lies the secret identity of a powerful heiress, and when her husband’s disgraced father returns from prison seeking revenge of his own, their fates collide.

Two broken souls. One shared enemy.
And a burning desire for vengeance that might just turn into something far more dangerous.

"Mommy, I don't need a daddy. Having you is enough."

When I heard my daughter say those words, I nearly broke down in tears.

Five years ago, an accident left me pregnant with twins. My father seized everything my mother had left behind and threw me out of the house. After I gave birth, he told me my son had died, leaving only my daughter Luna by my side.

For Luna's sake, I was forced to marry a man I'd never met—a husband in a vegetative state—and spent three years in France.

Three years later, I returned to Bay Harbor, only to be betrayed by my own father once again. While fleeing, I stumbled by mistake into the penthouse suite of a luxury hotel, where I spent the night with a mysterious man confined to a wheelchair.

The next morning, I left in a panic, convinced it was just another accident in my chaotic life.

Until later, when I took a job with the wealthy Stone family and met a quiet, withdrawn little boy named Cal—a child who seemed forgotten by the entire world.

I don't know why, but the moment I saw him, my heart ached inexplicably.

And at the same time, the man I had "taken advantage of" that night began closing in on the truth, determined to find me...

Eli is an omega. She gave five years of her life to Steven, believing he was her forever. But the day he landed a new job, he ended their relationship and told her she was holding him back. Heartbroken and humiliated, Eli returned home for what she thought would be her stepsister’s wedding.

Only it was not her stepsister’s wedding at all. It was hers. Her stepmother had arranged everything, and if Eli refused to marry the powerful stranger waiting for her at the altar, her father’s medical treatment would be cut off. With no choice left, Eli agreed.

She thought marrying a man she did not know was the worst thing that could happen. Then she saw Steven standing in the crowd. He was not just a guest. He worked for her new husband.

Now Eli is trapped in a marriage she never wanted, living in a house with the man who broke her heart, the husband who now owns it and now his twin brother who wants her.

Whose going to win Eli’s heart eventually?

Freya Ashford's biggest regret in life wasn't marrying me, but that she never truly looked at me. We were sleeping in the same bed but dreaming different dreams; she was researching immortality, and I was researching how to win her love—"It is an eternal power, and an eternal pain." This riddle led us down different paths. On the day of the prom, in front of the entire school, she pointed her finger at me and said, "You can't prove your love for me at all." But she didn't know that she would lose miserably.

Yes, I jumped from that rooftop. Wind screaming in my ears as I fell, thinking it might finally earn me one fucking tear from them. Instead, all I got was "she's so dramatic."
Now I'm staring at fifteen-year-old skin in the mirror. Downstairs, their fake voices call my name—identical to that "welcome home" afternoon three years ago.
Yvette rushes to hug me, sugar-sweet venom dripping from her lips: "Remember who the princess is." I give her the same plastic smile right back.
I hear the voice in my head crystal clear: This time, I'm not fighting for their love—I'm taking back the life that was always mine.

I die a miserable death in the dungeon, drained of three hundred years of pure blood. I owe it all to Elena and my ridiculously biased clan.

In my previous life, I am the Chief Executioner of the Night Abyss clan. During our hunt for the Alpha Wolf, she drops her weapon and throws herself into Lucas's arms, playing the helpless victim.

I take the beast's attack head-on and suffer severe injuries. The other knights just shield her, turning around to accuse me of being petty and jealous.

Prince Marcus blatantly favors his illegitimate daughter, Elena. He snatches my magic core, constantly puts me down, and even rips the core out of my loyal wolf familiar, Fenrir. In the end, he drains my blood dry just to feed her.

Now that I am reborn, I return to the exact night we hunt the high-tier Alpha Wolf.

I warned my family and neighbors that the extreme cold would come in a year and a half, but they all thought I was crazy.
I had no choice but to prepare myself a year and a half in advance: renovating houses, building arks, stockpiling supplies...
When the extreme cold arrived, the neighbors who ignored the warnings turned into thugs, yet my brother still wanted to let them into the house; the bandits pretending to be wounded were exposed by me, but my brother still didn't believe me and let them in; I finally managed to defeat the spy bandits, but when I wasn't paying attention, my brother, in order to save his own life, personally handed the Ark to the bandit leader...

To avenge my father, I married Philadelphia mafia don Salvatore and poisoned him with my own hands on our wedding night. I thought my revenge was complete, until I met his son Matteo at the funeral—a cold, handsome,dangerous man.

Matteo suspected from the start that I'd killed his father. According to plan, I was supposed to get close to him, seduce him, then kill the last Rossi heir when he trusted me most.

"You're trembling." He cornered me against the wall, his long fingers caressing my cheek. "From fear... or something else?"

"I..." Under his burning gaze, I couldn't find words.

"Don't be nervous, stepmother." He leaned close to my ear, his voice low and magnetic. "I just want to see how honest you are."

When the assassin falls for her target, when stepmother becomes obsessed with stepson, can this dangerous game have a happy ending?

At minus sixty degrees Celsius, my girlfriend of three years and my childhood friend teamed up to push me out of the bomb shelter and beat me to death in the snowstorm.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back fifteen days before the extreme cold arrived, and my phone had a new "Doomsday Farm" app.

Rapidly growing mutant crops and an infinitely large, temperature-controlled warehouse became my biggest trump card for rebirth.

Faced with two people who came with luggage under the pretense of "accompanying me" but actually plotted to seize the property rights of my underground research institute, I calmly turned them away, sold all my properties in the city, and headed straight for the suburbs with a huge sum of money.

Within fifteen days, I welded the abandoned research institute into a heavily insulated steel fortress.

When the epic cold wave arrived ahead of schedule, those who had betrayed me were trapped in an old apartment without water or gas, tearing each other apart over a tattered quilt.

I'm sitting in a 20-degree underground farm, eating hot stewed beef, drinking hand-drip coffee, and quietly watching them on the monitor slowly turn into ice sculptures.

In this life, having let go of my desire to help others, I simply want to live comfortably in this Ice Age.

One month until the SAT.
Staring at my phone screen—at the pulsing number on "Oracle," the mandatory score prediction app that Elite Prep forced every student to install—I couldn't help but think it was all a joke.
In my previous life, every time I finished a practice test, this garbage system would automatically dock twenty points from my predicted score.
But skip class for a day? The number would mysteriously jump up twenty points.
Back then, I actually believed in this bullshit algorithm. I completely gave up for an entire month, watching that predicted score skyrocket all the way to 1550.
But when I finally logged into College Board to check my real results, I'd scored a pathetic 400.
And that brilliant 1550? It appeared on my stepsister Dahlia's score report instead.
Disgusted that I'd embarrassed the Wright family, my father Harold froze my credit card without a second thought and threw me out of the family estate, clearing the path for Dahlia to claim Grandpa's ten-million-dollar trust fund all for herself.
That night, homeless on the streets, I was cornered by some thugs in a filthy Brooklyn alley and beaten to death.
Lying in a pool of my own blood, fading fast, I heard Dahlia's voice.
"Your GPA's been crushing mine since we were kids. I thought you, the so-called 'Straight-A student,' were supposed to be so smart."
She stood over me, mocking. "Turns out you got played by a prediction app. Pathetic."
That's when it finally clicked. My Oracle prediction system had been completely rigged from the source code—by Dahlia.
I shot up in bed, gasping, my shirt soaked through with sweat. I'd actually gone back in time—one month before the test.
Right now, the Oracle widget glowed eerily on my phone's home screen, displaying a single number: 1350.

That December night, his first love and I were both rushed to the ER.
Two pregnant women. One operating room.
My doctor husband took three seconds to decide.
"She's an athlete. She can handle it," he told the nurse, then wheeled Sienna into surgery.
Leaving me—eight months pregnant with his baby—bleeding alone in the hallway.
When the nurse called begging him to come back, he said: "I'm at the pharmacy getting supplies for Sienna. Twenty minutes."
Twenty minutes later, I'm still alive.
He wishes I wasn't.

Here is the English translation, tailored to match the gritty, dramatic, and satisfying tone typical of apocalyptic revenge web novels:

In my previous life, I was drained to the bone by the so-called "Doomsday Evolution System," forced to watch as my best friend and fiancée stepped over my corpse to scavenge my supplies.

When I opened my eyes again, I had regressed to exactly three days before the apocalypse. When that faint blue, glowing "cheat" materialized once more, I decisively took a step back, watching my enemies fanatically claim it for themselves. They thought they had grasped the key to ruling the doomsday. Little did they know, they had just swallowed a parasite that would devour its host.

Then, the extreme cold descended, and toxic spores blotted out the sky.

Using my knowledge of the future, I struck a deal with a female black-market boss, packing an underground bunker with tons of supplies and heavy firepower. Sipping hot coffee in front of the control room monitors, I sat back and enjoyed the show. I watched my enemies be systematically stripped of their sanity, sacrifice their companions, and ultimately degenerate into mindless, mutated lumps of flesh driven only by base instincts.

In this man-eating apocalypse, I refuse to touch any bizarre parasitic "gifts." Thick alloy doors and an endless supply of ammunition—that is the only true law of survival in the wasteland.

For half a box of rations, my former comrade put a bullet in my back. As I gasped my last, the world reset—three days before the apocalypse. I didn't go after him for revenge. I floored the accelerator, racing toward the Texas borderlands where my grandfather—a Vietnam veteran—had spent forty years hoarding "junk" that everyone mocked. When the heat turned the earth into a furnace and Drake’s war-party smashed into the fence, they were met with a wall of diesel fire. My grandfather had spent three years digging a secret tunnel that bypassed the perimeter, and half a ton of fertilizer sent their entire encampment into the sky. They laughed at his junk pile. I laughed at their graves.

My sister and I both married the wrong men in our past lives. I was bound to an overbearing Lycan Duke, who saw me as nothing more than a vessel for his heir. I ultimately lost my life in childbirth. My sister wed a frivolous Fae Prince, hounded and tormented by his countless mistresses until she was driven to take her own life.
Reborn before our weddings, we bravely choose to swap our marriage contracts, determined to break free from our cruel fates. This time, we rewrite our stories and grasp the our happy lives .

I think I'm dead.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself standing in an abandoned amusement park, and my body was sitting on that slowly turning carousel.

I was only ten years old. I don't know how I died.

Detective Sarah, the blonde officer, promised to find the truth. So I followed her, watching her peel away layer after layer of lies—

In my diary, I wrote down all my fears and all my waiting.

On the phone, Mom sent that video of me laughing.

In the autopsy report, evidence of long-term abuse filled every page.

Mom had been saving money for three years, saying she'd take me away. That afternoon she picked me up from school and said, "We're really leaving this time."

Then what happened? Why did I die at the amusement park? Why was Mom's first reaction after my death not to call the police, but to—

I thought Mom came to save me.

Until I saw the text message she sent...

After three years of agonizing IVF, I was forced into three abortions. The reason? My mafia in-laws’ pet bird stared at my belly and shrieked, "End it."
Even when I was carrying healthy twins, my own parents held me down and forced abortion pills down my throat. My husband—the man I once took a bullet for—watched coldly. "Listen to the bird. Abort."
Lying in a pool of blood, I finally discovered the horrific truth. There was no "sacred bird." My marriage, my ruined womb, and all the IVF tortures were actually part of a terrifying conspiracy.
On my fourth pregnancy, the bird finally decreed, "Keep it!"
As the whole family treated me like a queen and rejoiced to welcome their precious heir, I quietly walked into the operating room.
Armed with lethal evidence, I crashed their grand succession ceremony.
You want an heir? I’ll send you all to hell instead.

I died on the night of my eighteenth graduation party, pushed off a rooftop by the two people I trusted most.

In my past life, I was the ultimate fool.

When my two childhood friends—both heirs to top elite families—decided to throw away their futures, I panicked.

They actually wanted to reject their admission offers from Harvard and Yale.

All to follow Lily, a charity case from the slums, to a literal no-name trade school called Sunny Valley Vocational Academy.

I begged them to stop.

I even used my family's connections to try and get Lily into a legitimate university.

But Lily wept in front of them, claiming my money insulted her dignity, and that I was just jealous of their "pure love."

Liam and Noah completely lost their minds.

That night, they cornered me on the roof.

"Vivian, you killed Lily. Go to hell!"

As it turned out, Lily went to that trash school alone and committed suicide.

They blamed me entirely for her death, nursing that grudge until they finally pushed me into the abyss.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day we were supposed to lock in our college choices.

This time, count me out.

When my husband's eight-year-old "nephew" Noah was diagnosed with acute leukemia, the whole family begged for my help.

They needed my six-year-old daughter, Molly—the only perfect match.

Against my instincts as a head nurse, I agreed.

But the second Molly's stem cells were harvested, their gratitude vanished.

To avoid paying for my daughter’s mandatory sterile recovery room, Noah's mother live-streamed a crying fit in my lobby, accusing me of medical extortion. My husband, Grant, stood by in utter silence.

Without the isolation bed, my baby girl contracted a severe infection and died. My mother-in-law simply sneered outside the ICU, "Dead is dead. Better than wasting more money."

Three months later, Noah relapses.

Now, my phone is blowing up. The same people who watched my daughter suffocate in her own fluids are desperately begging me to use my hospital registry access to save him again.

Standing by Molly’s tiny headstone, I look down at the confidential DNA report I pulled from the hospital database.

They think I don’t know Noah is actually Grant's illegitimate son. They think I'll just hang up and cry.

Instead, I swipe to answer the call. It's time to make them pay.

"I was bonded with an alien system that issued nothing but 'benevolence' missions.
Supply food to violent thugs, shelter the mutants, embrace the Zombie King, and share our planetary defense technology with the entire world.
It claimed that as long as we were merciful, the civilization could survive.
I nodded, then promptly tweaked the task annotations.
I laced the food with neuro-suppressants, turned the shelter into a bio-sample bank, and activated kinetic overload when I 'embraced' the monster king.
Sharing the tech? Sure—though every defensive line I shared came with a backdoor that I could trigger remotely.
When the system eventually tried to purge me, Professor Sarah retaliated by locking it inside the national supercomputer.
I rewrote its underlying code, replacing 'mercy' with 'absolute order.'
Earth remains a post-apocalyptic wasteland, but the global satellite network is entirely in my hands.
The system’s most crushing defeat wasn't being destroyed; it was staying alive, only to become my tool."

I was drugged with an aphrodisiac by my competitors, and Pierce Pei dumped me in his older brother's room.
Pretending to be delirious from the drug's effects, I seduced his older brother all night long.
The moment I opened my eyes the next morning, I blushed and complained to Pierce, "You were way too rough last night. I can barely get out of bed."
"But you were so amazing last night. I really, really liked it."
Pierce froze. He threw away every gift I had ever given him.
Later, after all his black cards were canceled, he stormed furiously into his brother's office.
There, he saw the cold and aloof eldest son of the Pei family kneeling on one knee, putting shoes on my feet.

I've been to four weddings. I never made it through a single one.
Not because I didn't love enough. Not because they weren't good enough. It was because every time — right at the moment I was supposed to say I do — my parents would appear on cue, fall apart on cue, and burn everything to the ground on cue.
For years I thought they hated me. Thought they'd given all their love to my dead sister, Claudia, and had nothing left. Then my brother-in-law said something that cracked me open: Any one of those three men — if you'd married him, you wouldn't be alive today.
So which is it? Were they protecting me, or destroying me?

Four years ago, Giovanni dumped me in front of everyone at an upscale restaurant. Two weeks later, he was engaged to Rosanna. I made a fool of myself begging on his doorstep, became the laughingstock of Ferro City.
Four years later, he runs into me at Casa Valentino, assumes I'm destitute, and offers me a job as a cleaner for him.
What he doesn't know is that the plainly dressed woman standing before him is the wife of Don Alessandro Valentino—the man the entire underworld bows to.

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

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

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

I flew downstairs and pounded on the door.

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

A pregnant woman appeared behind him.

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

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

My world shattered.

My chosen mate used his Beta authority to give the entire moonbloom compound to his fated mate's daughter.
The healer had said to split it—half for each child. Both would live. He overrode her. Gave the full dose to Rosalie Blackwell.
He wanted a full recovery. Just not for ours.
Three days later, my daughter Wren's organs shut down. She died on her birthday, still asking why Daddy wasn't there. The dress I'd made her—white with little silver wolves along the hem—she never got to put it on.
That same day, his fated's daughter walked out of the healing hall completely cured. He even threw a feast for the whole pack.
I collapsed at the border of Thornecrest territory. The healers told me it was cancer. Late-stage. Nothing left to treat.
Now I sat alone in our empty house with Wren's unworn birthday dress across my lap and drafted the dissolution papers.

A hormonal condition pushed my weight to two hundred pounds, and for three years, this boarding school made sure I never forgot it.

The ringleader was the guy every girl worshipped.

And beside him stood his girlfriend, the one who always stepped in at my worst moments with a soft voice and a sympathetic look, like she was doing me a favor.

Everyone called her an angel. Only I knew the truth: every time she "helped," things got worse.

One day, she handed me a candy in front of everyone. "Here. Something sweet always helps."

I didn't feel like I had a choice.

That night, a demon showed up at the foot of my bed.

"Congratulations. You ate the pact candy. I'll grant you three wishes — money, beauty, lifespan. You name it, I'll make it happen."

My whole body shook. Three years of humiliation, and finally there was a way out. Wealth, beauty, revenge. All I had to do was ask.

Then the demon's expression shifted, eyes full of cruel amusement.

"There's a catch, though. The real pact-holder is someone else. Whatever you wish for, the one who gave you that candy gets double."

The words I was about to say died in my throat.

Then, slowly, I smiled.

Double?

That's way more interesting than three wishes.

My dad made me a smoothie every morning for six months. I thought it was love.
It was a muscle relaxant.
He'd been slipping just enough into my drink to make my fingers tremble at full draw — just enough to cost me first place at every major competition. Not enough to kill me. Just enough to let Laurel beat me.
Laurel. His mistress's daughter. The girl he bought custom diamond jewelry while giving me clearance-rack gear for my birthday. The girl he wanted to drop into my family, my home, and my spot on the podium.
I found the proof. Stopped drinking his smoothies. Clawed my way back to number one.
Then, two days before the National Youth Archery Trials — the one competition that decides everything — he picked up a steel rod and swung it at my right arm.
My drawing arm.
The bone cracked. Doctors said three months minimum. My coach couldn't look me in the eye. Every scout, every scholarship, every dream I'd bled for over three years — gone in one swing from the man who was supposed to protect me.
Trials start tomorrow morning. And I can't hold a bow.

I had just arrived abroad for a legal conference when my best friend sent me a video.
An unfamiliar woman was chatting while pushing Dexter’s mother, Jenny, around the neighborhood, claiming to be Dexter’s wife.
My hand, holding the phone, froze.
If she’s Dexter’s wife… then who am I?
I immediately called my husband and asked,
“Did you change family doctors?”
He paused for a second, then replied with a laugh, “Yes. Mom didn’t like the old one, so we switched. I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet. Why do you ask?”
I forced a casual chuckle. “No reason. I just missed you.”
After hanging up, I rushed home overnight.

I just landed my dream job on Wall Street, but the celebratory champagne came with a bizarre side effect. I can suddenly see the exact probability of someone killing me floating above their heads. My parents? 5% and 70%. The fiancé I ran to for safety? A blood-red 100%.

Married to the head of the Valenti family for five years. Kidnapped on our anniversary. Pregnant a month later.
Five paternity tests said the baby wasn't his. My husband got a vasectomy and swore he'd raise the child as his own.
I believed him.
Then came the therapy. The drugs. Nightmares where I was pinned down by multiple men, so real I could feel their hands hours after waking. I scrubbed my skin raw. Tried to end it six times.
He saved me every time. Held my hand. Told me no one would ever hurt me again.
Until the night I heard him laughing about it in his study.
The kidnapping was staged. The nightmares were chemicals. The DNA reports were forged. All of it — designed by my own husband to protect another woman.
Now I have a recording, a divorce agreement, and a very small box of ashes.
He's marrying her next week. I'll make sure he gets my wedding gift on time.

My influencer roommate paid a small fortune to grow a tub of "all-natural" beauty mud in our bathroom.
Ten days later, the thing crawled out of her face — in front of three hundred people at a party.
And I'd known it was coming from the day I first saw what she was growing.

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

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

He was too busy celebrating his mistress's birthday.

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

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

I'd had enough.

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

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

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

I watched him crumble.

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

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

It was always mine.

In their eyes, my wife Emma—an Ivy League tenured professor in biological sciences—is ruthless, rational, and obsessively clean.
For seven years, even when she washed her hands, she would only ever touch the right-side sink—hers.
Until that night at 3 a.m., when I pulled a strand of sandy-golden short curl—hair that belonged to neither of us—out of my men’s shower loofah.
And around the neck of a pre-med student named Lucas, I saw the antique silver cross my dying father left in my hands.
When I confronted her, my always-icy wife protected the little homewrecker, slapped me across the face, and called me a jealous, controlling chauvinist.
She thought I’d swallow it like a coward.
But she forgot: as a top cardiothoracic chief, the thing I do best is cutting out tumors.

Four friends. One reunion. A lot of unfinished business.
Ten years after high school, Brenda, Sadie, Michelle, and Colette reunite in their small ski town of Emerald Pines, Colorado.
Brenda, a chef, is back with big dreams and unanswered questions.
Sadie, a famous streamer, hides struggles behind her glamorous life.
Michelle, a fearless ski instructor, can’t escape the shadows of her past.
Colette, the hometown business owner, knows secrets the others would rather forget.
What starts as a fun reunion quickly unravels into a tangle of old grudges, buried feelings, and shocking truths. As their friendships are tested, the four must face their pasts and decide if they can rebuild what’s been broken—or let it all go.

A billionaire romance with second chance love and heartbreak!
This story is of the struggle that Giselle goes through when the boy that captured her heart is the one that breaks her heart! The ups and downs that they face in their relationship. Forced into a contractual marriage, Colton shows averseness towards Giselle. He never showed her love nor any kindness. Giselle's love for Danny starts to fade due to his indifference towards her and things only get worse between them soon. At the same time, Giselle meets an old student of her father's, who also happens to be her childhood friend. Giselle decides to part ways with Colton but stupidly acquiesces to his request to have one last night of passion with him.
Follow their journey to see if Giselle’s decision to fulfil her first love’s last wish brought her sorrow or filled her life with happiness.

“Every choice I make is for the good of our people, even if it means pushing you away. You deserve more than I can give.”
Noblewoman Arianna is trying to find her way after the recent conflict. When she meets Sevianne, a widow struggling to care for her child after losing her husband, Arianna promises to help her create a better future. But as Arianna reaches out to others, she finds herself facing her own emotional battles.
Her partner, Clair, returns from a journey burdened with secrets and the weight of leadership. The distance between them grows as he grapples with his responsibilities, leaving Arianna wondering if they can ever be close again.
In a world where noble families fight for power and the memories of fallen heroes linger, Arianna must navigate tricky politics and her own feelings. Will she find the strength to follow her heart, or will duty pull her apart from the love she craves?

In my past life, I spent everything loving Ronald Wright, only to watch him chase after his first love and marry her in the end. I died alone and sick in a hospital, forgotten.

After being reborn, I gave up. On our wedding anniversary, I asked for a divorce. I walked away from being a full-time housewife and became the youngest rising star in the design world.

But something changed. The husband who once ignored me suddenly cared. He came home every day, afraid I might cheat on him.
I sneered, “One day, you’ll be the one begging for a divorce.” He laughed, “Keep dreaming.”

I waited for him to realize, just like in the past, that he still loved the other woman and would force me to leave, giving me millions in return.

But this time, he pulled me into his arms and said, “What’s money after a divorce? I’m worth billions. It’s all yours. But you—you’re mine.”

On the night of her wedding, Evelyn Knight paid the ultimate price for trusting the wrong man—her husband murdered her with his own hands.
But fate grants her a second chance.
Reborn on the very day she's meant to marry Nathaniel Andrews, Evelyn wastes no time. This time, she won't be the victim. She escapes the altar and makes a bold move—straight into the arms of her husband's sworn rival.
"Mr. Everett, will you marry me?"
"This a surrender?"
"No," she smirks. "This is a tactical retreat followed by a counterattack."
What begins as a calculated alliance quickly spirals into something far more dangerous—obsession, protection, desire. Julian Everett never expected to fall for the woman who barged into his life like a storm. But now that he has her, he won't let her go.
This time, Evelyn isn't just rewriting her fate—She's taking her revenge one kiss at a time.

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé.
Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now—billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn’t mind. I’d crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one?
Wrong.
One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That’s when it hit me—he didn’t love me. He didn’t even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn’t even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup.
So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster—my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise.
Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol.
Enter him.
Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I’d met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes.
It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised.
But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life.
And, as it turned out, the best decision I’d ever made.
Because my one-night stand isn’t just some random guy. He’s richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with.
And now, he’s not letting me go.

Lorraine never expected to lose her virginity to her cold, unreadable CEO Tristan—let alone five times in one night. Even more shocking? He keeps showing up to save her, stepping in not once, but twice, to protect her from a toxic ex. After several heartfelt proposals, she finally agrees to a contract marriage—thinking it's a practical solution to a messy life.

Tristan has had his eyes on Lorraine for years—the brilliant top designer working quietly under his nose. The contract is just the beginning of his plan to claim her completely. He's ready to offer her everything: protection, devotion, and a love she's never dared to hope for.

But when jealous exes and relentless suitors re-enter the picture, threatening to tear them apart, their fragile arrangement is put to the test. Can a marriage built on strategy survive long enough to become something real?

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.