3211 Book(s) Related to father i dont want to get married novel spoiler

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

My adopted sister, Adriana, hit and injured Hadley Brooks—the prized mistress of Hartwell’s mafia boss, Dario Salvatore—and fled the scene.
Don Salvatore gave us exactly three days. And so, my husband and my parents all turned their eyes to me: Go take the fall for her. You always know how to fix things.
I agreed.
What they didn't know was that on that very same day, my doctor had given me my own deadline: I had, at most, three days left to live.

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

I barely escaped the Valley of the Dread Dragon, my magic completely drained. A betrothal awaited me in Winterhold. But the moment I arrived, my fiancé Arthur refused to acknowledge who I was. He stood by and watched as his socalled true love Elena stole my wand, scarred my face, and swore to strip me bare and parade me through the streets. He thought he stood above me, blind to exactly whom he was defying — I held his entire family in my power. When my brother Damian arrived, he did not merely rescue me. He gave me the chance to pay back every wound and humiliation I had suffered, one by one.

Young love and devotion fell to his marital greed. In reckless indulgence, Nate ruined his lifelong lover and family. He sided with his mistress, ignored my agony and child loss, and pushed me into despair. Seven years later, the once-glorious Wall Street elite fell utterly abandoned and destitute. Repentant and desperate, he begged for redemption. But his belated love now only meets my cold, unwavering indifference.

I was seven months pregnant when the car crash left me hemorrhaging and clinging to life.

My husband, an attending physician, burst into the ER—only to turn around and divert the last bags of blood meant to save me and our child.

He gave them to the woman who had hit me: his first love, Sienna, who had just returned from overseas.

When I woke up from surgery, I learned that I hadn't just lost our baby; I had permanently lost my uterus.

Yet my husband didn't bring me comfort. He brought a Waiver of Prosecution.

He was disguising attempted murder as a tragic accident, using custody of our daughter as leverage to force me to drop the charges.

I refused to sign. He slammed the door and left.

But the door didn't latch. Through the crack, I heard him soothing Sienna:

"Don't be afraid. Clara can't live without me. Once she's done throwing her tantrum, she'll sign it like a good girl."

In that moment, I swallowed every ounce of my agony, picked up the phone, and called my lawyer.

"Draft a divorce agreement for me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I could never come back up again.

At twenty-nine, Dominic Brooks owns this city's underworld.

This year, I'm pregnant again. Finally.

But on our daughter's death anniversary, he doesn't show. Five hours. Nothing.

I find him at our casino with some girl draped all over him. The same girl I pulled out of a trafficking ring two years ago.

She's laughing loud enough for everyone to hear. "His wife won't stop crying about that dead kid. God, he's so over it."

He kisses her. Right in front of me.

Three days later, he tears up our daughter's grave. His mistress wants a swimming pool.

The shovel comes down. My unborn baby goes with it.

Years ago, Dominic taught me the rules of our world. How we handle traitors.

Time for a reminder.

I once thought I’d married the perfect husband, Kael, pouring all my heart and soul into trying to have a baby—until the birth certificate and adoption agreement in the study safe shattered every beautiful lie.
He and my dearest friend, Celeste, had long ago secretly had an illegitimate child,
and even plotted to trick me into being his foster mother, keeping me in the dark for the rest of my life.
What was even crueler was that on the very day I uncovered the truth, the doctor gave me the news—I was pregnant.
Once I faced the harsh truth, I resolutely faked a shipwreck to flee, going into hiding with my unborn child and leaving my old life behind.
He searched the entire world to find me, casting aside all his pride to beg for my forgiveness with a humble heart—but he could never win me back, not ever.

I grew up alongside my next-door neighbor, ice hockey prodigy Lachlan, silently paving the way for his future. In my past life, he planned to quit his crucial scout game for his girlfriend Tamsin.
Fearing he would ruin his career, I tipped off his parents to stop him. After graduation, I joined his sports agency and spent three years cleaning up his messes, clinging to the hope that my devotion would eventually win him over.
Yet after Tamsin’s death, he blamed me entirely, shattered my fingers, and drowned me in a frozen lake. Reborn back in high school, I finally woke up. I will no longer stop him from chasing his doomed fate.

I was dead, and the whole world was celebrating for my sister.

For twenty-two years, I had been the hardest-working but most invisible daughter in the Sterling family, forever living in the shadow of my gymnastics prodigy sister.

Running a high fever, I begged my family to take me to the hospital, only to hear: "Don't you DARE ruin Bella's award ceremony!"

When I was tricked into the abandoned equipment room and used my last breath to call my boyfriend while lying in a pool of blood, all I heard was: "Grace, quit the drama! Bella's accepting her award on stage!"

On stage, thunderous applause erupted as Bella lifted the "Young Gymnast of the Year" trophy.

And I drew my final breath.

When they returned home triumphant, thinking I had run away in a tantrum, they had no idea I was already dead right under their noses.

I gave Arthur a thousand years. A thousand years to secure his throne as God-King.

And on the day of our engagement ceremony, he announced he was marrying someone else.

In my past life, I bled myself dry for him.

He told me Lilith needed Seraphim blood to live. I believed him. He bound me to the Divine Punishment Pillar and carved open my chest, one cut at a time.

He massacred my entire clan, calling it "treason."

I only learned the truth as I was dying. That pitiful "saint" was a demon from the Abyss all along.

Now that I'm reborn, watching him sit on that throne makes my skin crawl.

I destroy our engagement in front of everyone and take the entire Seraphim clan with me.

This time, I'm only here to watch him destroy himself.

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

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

My uncle has a hunting cabin in Alaska. Every December, I stay there for a few days.

This year he wasn't there—left me the keys.

When I walked in, I noticed there was a new deer head mount above the fireplace.

Not a whitetail deer. A moose. Very large.

But I noticed its eyes weren't made of glass.

Those two eyeballs looked... too real.

The pupils even contracted in the light.

I texted my uncle asking when he'd shot this moose.

He replied: "What moose?"

I looked at the mount again.

Its lips moved slightly.

Not the rise and fall of breathing, but... trying to form a word.

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On my wedding day, I found another woman's sexy lace bra in my husband's car, with semen still on it...

For three years, she nursed her paralyzed husband, risked her own life testing experimental drugs, and nearly destroyed her health to pull him back from the brink of death.
But on the very day he fully recovered, he held his first love in his arms and declared, “I will take care of her and our child for the rest of my life.”
Heartbroken, she asked for a divorce. In return, he coldly froze all her bank accounts and forced her out of the house with nothing, sneering, “You are nothing without me.”
It was not until she hid her pregnancy test and walked away for good that he finally panicked.

One month before my wedding, I was trying on the wedding dress I'd designed myself when a message from a friend popped up: [Diana, get over here! Your fiancé just lost at Truth or Dare and has to kiss your rival.]

On the anniversary of my mother's death, Thomas promised he'd come pay his respects with me. I waited at the cemetery all day, only to see media reports of him vacationing with his first love.

Everyone assumed Thomas had a secret child with her. That they were about to get married.

And me? His actual wife?

I went home, left the divorce papers on the table, and burned our marriage certificate.

Eight years of marriage — she thought she'd married love itself.
Until the day she watched her husband's Bentley rocking on the roadside, and knew exactly why.
She played it cool. Maneuvered him into signing the divorce papers without a clue, then waited for her billion-dollar exit.
But before she could walk free, someone poisoned her drink and staged a crash that nearly killed her.
The man who saved her wasn't the husband who swore he loved her — it was Erwin, cold, dangerous, and ruler of a business empire.
The untouchable, legendary Erwin — shielding her, risking himself, again and again.
When Levi finally woke up to what he'd lost, he came back red-eyed and desperate: " I was wrong. Can we start over? I can't live without you."
Erwin simply tilted his head and kissed her — eyes cutting straight to Levi's ashen face:
"I don't think you understand. The moment you let her go, she became my wife."

After escaping a brutal forced mating ritual in the mountains, I arrive in Manhattan alone, broken, and desperate—with nothing but the clothes on my back and a painful mark that allows my ruthless former Alpha to track me anywhere.

Everything changes when I'm rescued by mysterious Rhydian Vaughn during a deadly encounter with human predators.

But my savior makes me an unexpected offer: become his temporary mate and help him escape a centuries-old arrangement with a powerful Luna bloodline his family expects him to claim.

What I don't know is that Rhydian Vaughn is far more than he appears.

He is the hidden Alpha King.

The most powerful wolf in existence.

Yet instead of seeing me as a weak, wolfless outcast, he treats me like something precious. He looks at my silver hair—the curse that made my old pack despise me—as if it's the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

But why would a man who has everything choose a broken girl like me? Someone born without a wolf, who spent her entire life being told she was worthless?

I've never believed in the Moon Goddess or fated mates—not after everything I've suffered.

But what if the Alpha King's mysterious devotion means I'm actually his destined mate?

"Three years ago, you saved me from that old gymnasium fire," Elvira whispered, her hand trembling as she removed the moonstone ring. "You promised to mark me, to make me your Luna."

Carlisle's jaw tightened. "I will. After the ceremony—"

"There is no ceremony." Her voice cut through the Elder Hall like ice. "Because the man who saved me that night... wasn't you."


Elvira Veil has spent three years as the unmarked fiancée of Blackpine's future Alpha, Carlisle—waiting for a bond that never came, enduring his pregnant mistress, watching her father's trust fund mysteriously dwindle. When she finally discovers the truth—that her salvation, her engagement, even her inheritance were all built on lies—she makes a choice that shocks the werewolf world: she dissolves their contract and walks away.

But freedom comes with a price. Her stepbrother Nolan wants to drag her back to the suffocating Veil estate. Blackpine refuses to let her go, claiming she's been manipulated by Reign Ashford—the brooding Greystone Alpha who's been watching her from the shadows for years. As Elvira's long-suppressed wolf finally awakens, she finds herself caught between three powerful men, each claiming to love her, each hiding devastating secrets.

Fighting for her father's legacy in werewolf court, Elvira must prove she's strong enough to stand alone. But as evidence mounts and alliances crumble, she realizes the conspiracy runs deeper than anyone imagined—and the greatest threat may come from the one person she's learning to trust.

The hearing that will determine her fate is tomorrow. But tonight, as her first heat cycle begins and ancient mate bonds stir to life, Elvira faces an impossible question: In a world where Alphas rule and Omegas submit, can she truly claim her own destiny? Or will the truth about that night three years ago destroy everything she's fought to build?

The answer lies buried in Greystone's archives—and someone will kill to keep it there.

It was a rainy night, and I was running wildly down the road, that man chasing relentlessly behind me, a malicious grin carved into his face. Desperately searching for somewhere—anywhere—safe, the brightly lit bookstore not far ahead became my only glimmer of hope.

Then I tripped.

I struggled to scramble back to my feet, but the rain and slick pavement betrayed me, sending me crashing down once more. A sharp pain tore through my knees as the sound of footsteps behind me grew louder, closer. Panic surged. I clawed at the gravel submerged in muddy water, my fingertips just brushing against a sharp-edged stone when a low sigh breathed against my ear.

“You can’t run away.”

I turned my head.

He was already standing before me, rainwater streaming down his twisted face, his eyes gleaming with a crazed, cruel light. Slowly, he knelt down. One hand clamped around my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. A blood-curdling laugh slipped from his lips.

“I’ve finally got you tonight,” he said. “You’ll be mine forever.”

Will Claire survive? Will she escape her attacker’s assault?

This is a novel of extraordinary imagination—step inside and uncover the thrill… and the answer.

All Kimberly Callahan wanted was one unforgettable night with the boy she secretly adored—Jason Travolta. What she never expected, however… was to kiss his twin brother. 

A stolen moment behind a mask. A forbidden kiss that tasted too perfect to regret—until a scandalous photo spread across campus, making headlines among the crowd. Now Kimberly finds herself trapped in a fake relationship with Jett Travolta, the twin she was never supposed to touch.

To make matters worse, her mother has just married their father.

Living under the same roof as the Travolta twins was never a part of her plan. Loving one and loathing the other should’ve been easy—until the blurred lines turned into a dangerous spark. 

One kiss changed everything.

Now, she was trapped between two brothers and every step she took brought them closer to dangerous attraction and affections.

But the real question is:

Was it ever truly a mistake… or fate in disguise?

The first thing they took was my baby.

The second was my parents.

The third was my freedom, my eyes, and every reason to live.

My husband gave me to three men on our anniversary. He chained me in a doghouse while his mistress laughed. He fed me my own son’s remains and called it mercy.

He said I was dirty. He said I deserved it.

But the DNA test he trusted was a lie. The video was staged. And the woman he’s about to marry is the one who destroyed us all.

I tried to die. Four times.

Now I’m done trying.

They put a dead woman in the ground. They’re about to find out she brought hell back with her.

Life, they say, is not a storybook but life unfolds in chapters; good chapters, bad chapters. What happens when the chapters of Jasmine’s life were not only bad but terrible?


In a world where only the strong gets what they want, and where women are only considered toys, Jasmine, an omega wolf, is thrown into the furnace of life to burn by her mate whom she loved but now loathed.

She was abused day and night, lost countless pregnancies in the hands of her toxic mate, and was used as a mere pleasure toy. Life seemed hopeless, and fate played a quick one when she discovered she was pregnant again.

To protect herself and her baby, she ran away from the pack and ended up in the arms of another Alpha.

What happens when she discovers this Alpha was her second chance mate?

Is she finally going to be happy or has fate tricked her yet again?

She woke up naked, bound, and on display in a birdcage.

Her husband sat in the front row while strangers bid on her unborn son's organs. He believed the video. The DNA test. The other woman's lies.

They took her baby. They took her mother. They tried to take her mind.

So she let them think she was broken. She smiled through the electric shocks. She bent without breaking. She counted down to the surgery that was supposed to kill her.

But she wasn't counting down to her death.

She was counting down to theirs.

They wanted her heart?

She'll give it to them—still beating, as she becomes their judge, jury, and executioner.

Dark Revenge Romance. CW: non-con, graphic violence, pregnancy loss, captivity. Read with caution.

The day he first saw her, one thought consumed him, "I want to fuck her."

Their first meeting, which seemed like an unexpected encounter, turned her life upside down.

Rainee humiliated him in front of everyone just because Alex bullied her beloved brother.

Alex Fraser swore to own her all for himself, to make her beg on her knees until he was satisfied.

But their obsession led them to get deceived by their own desire.

Is it a sin to love? If secret love is a sin I am willing to accept whatever is at stake.

I'm Marina Daughn Welch, who will pretend to be the wife of my twin's fiancé.

"Walk with me," he said.
Not a question. A decision.
"I don't think that's a good idea," I replied.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't belong in your world."
Ava Morgan has one rule: never mix emotions with ambition. Focused and independent, she has no interest in powerful men or complicated relationships.
So when a billionaire approaches her at a high-profile event, she does the one thing no one expects.
She rejects him.
Days later, she walks into her new job and finds out her new boss is the same man.
Ethan Blackwood is powerful, ruthless, and not used to hearing no. But instead of revenge, he becomes determined to break through Ava's walls.
As secrets unravel and attraction grows, Ava is forced to question everything she believes.
What happens when the man you rejected becomes the one person you can't escape?

For fifty thousand years, the Immortal Realm has feared the return of Vaelric, the Demon Lord—the God of Destruction and Death.

Hidden within the imperial palace since childhood, Alyssa has lived as both prisoner and weapon. Her blood can awaken the Demon Lord, while her soul is the only force capable of destroying him forever.

But when fate binds her to both the feared Demon Lord and the divine God of War, long-buried truths about the Great War begin to surface. The history she was raised to believe may have been built on a devastating lie.

Now two gods claim her heart. One seeks to burn the world to the ground. The other will sacrifice everything to save it. Neither is willing to let her go.

Trapped between duty and desire, destiny and free will, and three souls within a single body, Alyssa must answer the question that will decide the fate of the Immortal Realm:

Which love is fate? Which love is sacrifice? And which choice will rewrite the end of the world?

Prisca thought finding her mate was the beginning of her happily ever after. She was wrong.

After discovering that she is a Hidden hybrid witch, Prisca finally believes she has nothing left to fear—especially after Alpha Jake publicly chooses her as his mate and confesses his love.

But Jake is hiding a truth that changes everything.

He is not merely an Alpha. He is a royal heir, bound by ancient traditions that demand he marry a werewolf princess and claim his place on the throne. A witch as his mate is unacceptable to the royal bloodline, leaving Jake with an impossible choice: the woman he loves or the crown he was born to inherit.

When Jake chooses the crown, Prisca leaves the Silverstone Pack determined to erase him—and the supernatural world—from her life.

Then she discovers she is pregnant.

Her child is Jake’s heir.

Keeping the pregnancy secret from a powerful Alpha hybrid who is destined to become king may be impossible. But Prisca refuses to let Jake take her child—or break her heart twice.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t know that walking away from the future king may have consequences far greater than heartbreak.

Emily Fields never meant to become a killer.

She was twenty-two when she stabbed a man eleven times behind the bar where she worked. She remembered the first strike. She never remembered the other ten.

Seven months later, the victim suddenly withdrew the charges without explanation.

With nowhere to go and only forty-one dollars to her name, Emily accepts an offer that sounds too good to refuse: become the live-in maid and companion of a wealthy widow at an isolated estate.

The job is simple.

Take care of the old woman.

But the Holloway estate is full of things that don't make sense.

Emily starts waking in parts of the house she has been forbidden to enter, with no memory of how she got there. She finds old photographs that leave her with a strange sense that she has seen them before. The widow watches her with an unsettling familiarity, as though Emily's arrival has been expected for much longer than she realizes.

Then there are the widow's three sons.

Max likes to watch her.

Will can't stop touching her.

And Finn avoids her so completely that Emily begins to wonder what he is afraid will happen if he gets too close.

Emily has spent most of her life believing her story began when she was found and taken into care. No family she could remember. No real answers about where she came from.

But someone inside the Holloway estate seems to know.

And as Emily begins digging into the family's secrets, she realizes everyone around her has been hiding something... including herself.

Because the greatest mystery isn't simply what happened before she ended up in the orphanage.

It's why she can't remember any of it.

Arabella owed her life to him believing that he’s the reason she didn’t die that night. The night she was ambushed and almost shot. But she never knew it was a perfect set-up by him just to walk his way into her life and ruin her.

For the sins of her father, Conrad married Arabella with the intention to break her and steal her heirloom. At the time Arabella found out the man she married had gambled with her heart, it was too late. Her image was tarnished on the net by a stunt Conrad pulled. Broken and devastated, she badly wanted to divorce Conrad and hurt him back but it was impossible and risky.

Because her only son whom Conrad turned against her, would gladly choose to follow his father in court. Meanwhile, her heirloom was in her son’s name. Therefore she would lose everything to Conrad. Everything was a cross road for Arabella. Everyone was against her, including her best friend who had been having an affair with Conrad.

However in her perilous moment, she never expected to come faced with a man from her past who died to her. The first man who ever hurt her but that same man was the only one who can help crush her husband and claim everything back. Does Arabella let off of resentment and accept Damon’s help?

“Go to your father’s chambers and kill him.”

The command controlled my body, forcing me to swing the saber. I watched in horror as I beheaded the Divine God—my own father. Stripped of my powers and exiled by my brothers, I fell from the sky and crashed into a freezing river.

I thought I would die. Instead, I was pulled out by three identical, breathtakingly handsome men.

“We should leave her,” one sneers.
“I’d like to fuck her though,” another says, his eyes raking over my soaked dress.

They are triplets. They are Alphas. And they have decided to keep me.
I am Lillyan Elyort, the fallen Moon Goddess. Now, I am a prisoner in the Blackmoon pack, surrounded by enemies who want to use me. But they don’t know one thing: I might be mortal now, but I still know how to bite back.

To save my wife’s family, I buried my name, wore myself down, and let a few strands of my hair turn gray while caring for her on the edge of death.

Three years later, she slipped into custom Chanel and slapped a divorce agreement down in front of me.

With her arm wrapped around a so-called old-money heir from Wall Street, she mocked me as a worthless nobody who couldn’t even afford a luxury handbag, a bottom-feeder who was never fit to stand beside her.

I signed my name without a word and watched her leave in triumph.

What she didn’t know was that the man preaching investments was nothing more than a Ponzi fraudster facing multiple charges.

And when the conference room door closed, Manhattan’s most feared ice-cold attorney bowed to me at a perfect ninety degrees and welcomed me to unlock the seventy-billion-dollar trust fund and take back control of the entire conglomerate.

A few months later, inside a women’s maximum-security prison in Brooklyn, she was dressed in a filthy, tattered prison uniform, sprawled across a floor slick with dirty water, sobbing as she was beaten and begging for my forgiveness.

I simply lifted my whiskey and calmly switched off the surveillance feed.

In my previous life, the Vance Corporation stuffed me into an iron barrel and sank me alive to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.

The agonizing pain of suffocation still lingered in my bones, yet I suddenly jolted awake in my own bedroom.

The digital clock on the nightstand flashed red: 11:55 PM.

Exactly five minutes remained before the Corporation's elite cleaners would break down the door to silence me.

What is five minutes enough for?

Enough to hide my feverish younger brother in the closet and kill any thought my parents had of calling the police;

Enough to use waste motor oil, broken glass, and a modified industrial nail gun to transform this apartment into a meat grinder tailor-made for assassins.

When the lock clicked softly from a master key and a red laser sight pierced the darkened living room... these battle-hardened professional cleaners thought tonight would be an easy hunt.

But little did they know, the one who had crawled back from the abyssal hell was a grim reaper who had mastered every art of slaughter.

Tonight is just collecting the interest. Before dawn breaks, I will turn the entire Vance Corporation to ashes.

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?

Three days after I died, the morgue called my husband Sebastian to collect my ashes.
He was kissing another woman when he hit speaker, his voice cold and dismissive: "She's dead? Cremate her. Don't call me again."
And just like that, my body was wheeled into the cremation chamber.
When he finally showed up to collect my remains, he smashed the urn on the floor and ground every fragment of my ashes into the tile with his shoe.
"Playing dead? What a pathetic stunt," he sneered. "Tell her the anniversary of my mother's death is coming up. She'd better show up at the cemetery on her knees, or even if she really is dead, I'll scatter her ashes in the sewer myself."
But he didn't know—I truly was dead.
My soul was bound to him, forced to drift at his side as he planned a lavish wedding with his adopted sister Claire—his mother's true killer.
By the time he discovered the truth and exposed Claire at the altar, I had already vanished.
He lost his mind, racing to the ocean to search for my ashes.
Never knowing that the remains he'd crushed like garbage under his shoe—the "fake ashes" he'd dismissed as part of my act—
Were all that was left of me.

I longed for family affection and true love all my life. I tried my best to get along with my stepbrother Karen, and wholeheartedly loved his friend Nolan. However, my sincerity was trampled into the mud. They conspired to hurt me, spread indecent content to ruin my life, and even broke the last relic left by my grandmother. I suffered countless humiliations and injuries, then chose to leave without saying goodbye. Years later, the two men were trapped in endless regret, but I had already walked out of the shadow of the past. Trust is gone, and so is my tenderness for them.

For seven years, I told myself James wasn't cold; he simply loved quietly. Then my car died after midnight, and he told me to call a cab. When I earned the promotion I had chased for two years, he forgot my message. But when his ex said she felt sick, he left work with medicine in one hand and her exact coffee order in the other. That was when I understood: my husband knew how to care. He had simply never chosen to care for me. By our anniversary, I would stop waiting, leave his gift on the table, and move out. Only then would James begin to love me—and by then, it would be too late.

I divorced the same man nine times.
The first eight times, I was the one sobbing, begging him not to go.
The ninth time, I was the one who slid the papers across the table.
He signed them, then told me we'd remarry once she left.
I said okay.
What he didn't know was that my flight was already booked.
This time, I was leaving for good.

"Priest, I'm requesting to transfer my registry to the Forbidden Lands. And I need the materials to forge a Moonshadow Puppet. In three days, it will stand in my place at the mating altar."

I spoke into the communication rune in my palm.

From the other end, the Moon Priest's voice spiked with warning. "Aria, do you have any idea what you're saying? The Forbidden Lands is an abyss of no return! It's ruled by the Lycans. You don't even have a wolf spirit—walking in there is a death sentence!"

"My decision is final."

After a long beat, his heavy, suppressed sigh echoed through. "Using a puppet substitute is an act of absolute blasphemy against the Moon Goddess... You've waited for Kaelen for so many years. Why walk away now?"

"Because a puppet will never betray a sacred vow."

Ryan loves me deeply—at least that's what everyone says. Seven years together, we look like the perfect couple to outsiders. But only I know he's betrayed me three times.

The first time was three years ago. His brother died saving him, leaving behind his widow Sophia—Ryan's unforgettable first love. He married her behind my back. When I found out, I completely fell apart. I have dignity. I refuse to be the other woman. I wanted to leave, but he begged on his knees. "This is just to take care of my sister-in-law. Once I find the truth about my brother's death, I'll divorce her. Then we can get married."

I believed him. I forgot that a man never lets go of a lost love he's gotten back.

The second time was at last year's company anniversary. In front of everyone, he introduced Sophia as his wife. I watched them on stage, a knife through my heart. That night he explained, "It's just for show. Once everything's over, we can be together."

I believed him again.

The third time was two weeks ago. Surveillance footage showed Ryan with Sophia entering a hotel room. I rushed to confront him, but heard her voice outside his office. "Ryan, I'm pregnant. It's your baby."

Through the crack in the door, I see him hesitate. In that instant I understand.

He's going to keep her.

He spots me and rushes out in a panic. "It was an accident! Let me explain! After she has the baby, I'll give her money and make her leave. She won't be in our lives anymore!"

In that moment, I finally wake up. There will be no future for us.

The mafia boss chose me as his decoy—a body double for the woman he loves.

Eight years. Three bullets, one car crash, one explosion. The doctor said ten more minutes and I would've died on that operating table when they took my kidney. I gave him a son. He let me play "the boss's wife" in public.

Until he cleared every obstacle for her and decided to marry her.

Her wedding photos replaced mine in the master bedroom. He has her initials tattooed on his arm. When I questioned him, he had his men slap me at a charity gala, forced me to admit "I'm just a stand-in." When I touched her, he took away my custody, declared she was "the true lady of this house."

The punishments got worse. When he threatened to cancel my mother's insurance, I finally learned to shut up.

He pulls me close, whispers in my ear: "She gave up everything for me. Not like you—you were born to take bullets for me."

"Deal with it. She's not replacing you. This is her house now."

Even my son took her side.

"Stop being dramatic! Natalie actually loves us! You're nothing!"

But their pure, innocent Natalie? She unplugged my mother's ventilator while I was locked in the basement. Let his enemies slip poison into my drink during the last job.

When Grayson found me, all he said was: "She's pregnant and emotional. Go rearrange the flowers at the wedding venue."

I wipe the black blood from my lips. Look at him quietly.

"I'm dying."

I stepped out of my OB-GYN appointment, only to be crushed by a speeding truck while my husband watched from the opposite curb, not even blinking.
I choked on my own blood before waking up on the exact same street corner.
I thought I had been reborn, but then I saw a glowing red number "4" burned into the skin of my forearm.
What the hell was happening?

At eighteen, I gave my virginity to Hunter in his bed.

I swallowed all the pain and hesitation, naively believing that three years of a pathetic crush had finally earned my way into his heart.

Until the next morning, when I heard his teammates' unabashed mockery:

"Damn, you finally bagged the nerd? How was it?"

Hunter scoffed, his tone dripping with utter contempt.

"Just messing around. If I'm bringing a real girlfriend out, it's gotta be someone on Serena's level—head cheerleader."

I wordlessly opened my college application portal, deleted the garbage local state school I had picked just to stay with him, and changed it back to Yale.

He confidently thought I would follow him blindly, until he video-called me on opening day and completely lost his mind seeing who was beside me: his own stepbrother.

An hour ago, at the company’s press conference, I had just helped my husband Carlisle quell the ninety-ninth scandal of his affair.
Now, he has my assistant Russell pinned against my office desk, kissing him, his hand slipping under Russell’s miniskirt and groping wildly.
In that moment, I’ve already planned the publicity spin for the hundredth time.
But I’m not sure if my dear husband Carlisle and his lover will make it that far.
Because the revenge banquet I’ve been preparing for three years is about to begin.

As the only daughter of a mafia family, I learned early that trust doesn't come cheap. When my father got sick, he gave me an ultimatum: if I want to take over the family, I have to get married first.

Everyone assumed I'd pick my childhood friend, Vincent Moretti—son of my father's right-hand man. Hell, even I thought so. Until my last life, when he left me to burn.

Father died in an ambush. I was trapped in a metal cage at an abandoned dock warehouse while flames swallowed everything. I begged Vincent for help. He stood thirty feet away, the cage key right by his feet.

"Cat, as long as your father's alive, he'll never give me the family. This isn't personal. It's business."

Sophia was wrapped around him—my so-called best friend. She smiled at me and said she'd take good care of everything.

Before I lost consciousness, I saw a figure in black charging into the flames—Elijah, the bodyguard I'd called "trash" and "a dog."

Then I opened my eyes and woke up a month before my birthday party. This time, I'm giving that position to someone who actually deserves it.

But why is Vincent on his knees at my engagement party, crying and begging me to marry him?

My parents and twin sister faked their own deaths so she could steal my college acceptance.

I believed it. Sobbed until I couldn't breathe when the cops showed me photos of the burnt yacht. Thought my words—"I hope you all die"—had somehow made it happen.

Two weeks later, I found my sister's backup Instagram: "Finally ditched the boring sister! Bahamas is paradise 🏖"

Something inside me snapped.

Wanna play dead? Stay dead.

I took their death certificates. Canceled their social security numbers. Drained every joint account—every last cent. Sold the house to John, the kind of guy even cops don't mess with.

One month later, they came home tanned and loaded with designer bags, expecting to find me broken on the streets.

What greeted them instead were cold gun barrels pointed at their heads.