3347 Book(s) Related to after divorce i am a billionaire

I was forced by my father to fulfill an arranged engagement I'd never met face-to-face.

Pushing open the private room door, I found my fiancé Tristan celebrating his secretary Clara's birthday.

"Security! Get this beggar out of here!" Clara screamed, pointing at me.

When I revealed my identity, Tristan sneered coldly: "What bullshit engagement? I would never marry a woman like you."

Clara poured red wine over my head: "Kneel down and lick it clean!"

When I fought back, Tristan exploded in rage: "How dare you touch my woman? Hold her down!"

Four bodyguards pinned me down as Clara started a live stream: "Let everyone see this delusional bitch who doesn't know her place!"

They tore at my clothes while Tristan watched coldly, even urging them on: "Hurry up, let everyone see her true face."

Just as I was about to be completely humiliated, the door suddenly burst open—

"Do you have any idea whose daughter you're humiliating?

My best friend Tiffany was obsessed with those novels where a mafia don spoils his woman rotten.

She was convinced she was the type of girl who could make a ruthless boss go soft, so she went after Vincent, the heir of a crime family, and got him.

His bodyguards, his dirty money, even the way he told her not to ask questions and just sit tight. She read all of it as devotion. And of course she had to drag me into it too, always with the same excuse: it was for my own good.

Last time around, her mess got me killed. Vincent's enemies mistook me for one of his people, and I died in a shootout that had nothing to do with me.

The second the blade opened my throat, all I could think about was her holding up a bloody knife, grinning, showing it off to me like a trophy.

"Margot, look. He gave me this. It means we're official now."

I remember feeling disgusted. I never thought that same knife would end up slitting my throat.

Blood pooled across the street while she hid in Vincent's arms, screaming, hands over her eyes. Later I heard her crying to someone, saying it wasn't her fault, that I just had bad luck.

I died inside her little romance fantasy. A nobody side character, wiped off the page without a second thought.

Then I opened my eyes, and I was back. Back to the afternoon it all started.

I've run a pet rescue shop for five years. I've lost count of the animals I've saved. Around the neighborhood, people call me the good Samaritan of Main Street. My husband, Adam Carter, and I have been married five years, and he's always been gentle and attentive.

It's a rainy night in late fall, and I come across an injured starling in the alley on my way home, its wing broken.

The second I scoop it into my arms, a man's voice cuts through the dark.

"Tomorrow night, eight o'clock. Whatever you do, don't go home. Your husband's going to sneak out with your best friend, and on the road, they're going to hit someone and kill them. Then they're going to run, and they're going to pin it on you."

I look down into the starling's eyes, and the color drains out of my face.

Five years of what I thought was love, and it was just a trap waiting to close in.

A talking bird. Nobody's going to believe that if I go to the cops.

I don't even think twice. I just take the bird and head downtown.

In my last life, my boyfriend's childhood best friend handed out jars of homemade sunscreen on the boat ride to the island. I'm a marine bio major — one sniff and I knew the mix had something in it that could drive the island's feral hogs into a frenzy. I told everyone to throw them out.
They did. But Brynn didn't look at the group. She looked at me. Eyes red, jaw tight. "You just can't stand seeing people appreciate anything I do, can you?" She turned and ran into the woods alone.
We searched for her all night in a storm. By morning we found her body at the bottom of the cliffs.
A week later, at her memorial bonfire on the beach, every person who'd gotten hurt during the search turned on me. My boyfriend ripped off his bandage and showed his stitches. "If you hadn't humiliated Brynn in front of everyone, she'd still be alive."
Someone said I should burn for what I did to her.
Then hands on my back. The fire. I burned alive on the sand while seventeen people watched.
I opened my eyes. Salt air. Engine noise. I was back on the boat — the morning of the trip.

My brother Soren is a figure skating prodigy. Every dollar in our house, every hour, every scrap of attention — all his.
Me? I'm the kid who doesn't need to be seen.
The night before Nationals, I told my mom my stomach hurt so bad I could barely stand. She said I was making trouble. Dad told me to take a painkiller and tough it out. Then they loaded up the car and drove two hundred miles to watch Soren skate.
They didn't come home until Sunday night. By then, I'd been dead for over a day.
I called her. Again and again. She had her phone on airplane mode.
Now I'm a ghost, drifting behind their car on the highway home. They're laughing, complaining I didn't even text Soren a congratulations.
I wonder what their faces will look like when they walk through that door.

My daughter died on her fifth birthday.
Her first real wish—the first one she was old enough to make herself—was to go to the beach with Daddy.
Gideon promised he would take her.
She waited for him all day. She was still asking for him when she took her last breath.
He never came.
I brought her ashes to the beach she'd always dreamed of. Let her finally see the ocean.
That's when I heard it—a woman's moan, low and breathy, coming from behind the rocks.
Then his voice. Then his name on her lips.
"Between me and Lily, who do you love more?"
"You. Obviously."
He was fucking his mistress on our daughter's dream beach—while I stood there holding her ashes.
When I finally confronted them, I didn't get an apology. I got a slap across the face.
And when his mistress caught my eye and smiled, I realized something.
She knew exactly when my daughter would die.

My fiancée, with whom I've been in a relationship for three years, has threatened to break off our engagement for the hundredth time, forcing me to donate a kidney to her adopted brother, who's faking illness and acting like a hypocrite.

My biological parents even threatened to sever ties with me: "You have a healthy body. Ian has nothing but us. You can't even bear to part with a kidney. You're so selfish and cold-blooded!"

They don't know that my hands, which I used to play the piano, had already been crushed by gangsters while cleaning up their mess; they also don't know that at this moment, I have a critical illness notice for late-stage bone cancer in my pocket.

Seeing the undisguised disgust and indifference in my fiancée's eyes, I swallowed the taste of blood in my throat and calmly signed the consent form for the live organ removal.

"Okay, I'll donate. I'll give you back my life along with it."

Later, I died like a dog on the rusty operating table of a shady clinic, my bones and marrow completely drained.

But when I was truly reduced to dust and left without even a complete corpse... the truth about my vicious foster brother faking illness was exposed.

The aloof and arrogant female CEO who once treated me like trash went completely mad overnight.

She knelt desperately before my nameless grave, plunged a sharp knife into her abdomen, and collapsed in a pool of blood, pleading for me to see her one more time.

When the world fell to monsters, Avery was just a girl with nothing but a name.

Now she's hunted by ancient Titans—creatures from myth that should never have been real—and saved by three deadly brothers bound in blood, magic, and secrets. Damien is cold and cruel, convinced she’s hiding something. Ezra is her reluctant protector, willing to defy his own blood for her. And Rowan… wears a muzzle for a reason.

They say she’s marked. Chosen. That the Titans want her for what she is, or what she’s becoming.

She says she just wants to go home.

But love in the ruins is dangerous, and Avery is about to learn:
you don’t survive the end of the world without breaking—or being claimed.

I gave my virginity to a powerful stranger to spite my cheating fiancé, only to discover he's my new boss and my ex's billionaire godfather.
Joann
He fucked my blood sister, I fucked his dad. And now we're even. 
I usually condoned Steven's misdeeds and ignored his red flags—at least the one he made obvious. Because why not? Everyone has flaws, I could deal with it. But cheating on me?? And with my immediate sister? That was the last straw.
I got with a stranger that looked familiar, and in my defense, I was high. Finding out I slept with my ex boyfriend's dad, my head bumped. I was toast! Though it felt like a payback. I tried every possible best to avoid Mr Sanchez. Had sex, moved on, but I couldn't. I'm pregnant! And for a one night stand with my ex's dad. 
This Book is highly erotic. 18+

He's her arrogant boss. She's his biggest headache. Neither expected to become family, or to fall this hard.
Stella Blake has one goal in mind: rise through the corporate ranks, hit every target, and avoid falling for the insufferable CEO who seems determined to block her at every turn.
Rhysand King is cold, controlling, and relentless. He refuses to take no for an answer, especially not from the bold new executive who keeps challenging him in his own boardroom.
When a high-stakes merger forces them to work side by side, tensions run high. Then comes the real shock: their parents are getting married, making them soon-to-be stepsiblings.
What begins as a power struggle slowly turns into something much more dangerous. She doesn't like him. He doesn't trust her. But resisting each other proves impossible.
Office clashes lead to lingering touches. Family dinners are filled with lingering glances. And just when they think things can't get more complicated, the truth starts to unravel, and both their hearts are on the line.
Enemies. Stepsiblings. Lovers?
This irresistible grumpy boss, enemies-to-lovers romance is full of slow-burn chemistry, explosive tension, and a forbidden relationship that defies all the rules.
One bed. No boundaries. And no chance of walking away without consequences.

Maya has been secretly in love with Liam Miller, her best friend Chloe's older brother, for years even though she knows he is five years older and completely off-limits. When Liam gives her his hoodie in the rain and tells her she is growing up dangerously fast, Maya's carefully hidden feelings begin to surface. On Liam's twenty-first birthday they are left alone and share a kiss that changes everything, but Liam pulls away saying Maya is too young and this cannot happen. Maya tries to move on by agreeing to attend Spring Formal with Noah, but Liam cannot handle watching her with someone else. When their forbidden relationship explodes into a public scandal, they face backlash and accusations that tear both families apart, Maya and Liam must decide if their love is worth the price or if some lines should never be crossed.

What do you do when you are bound to two of the most powerful kings in the world? One drinks your blood. One owns your soul.

I am Danika, a young woman treated like a servant in my own werewolf pack. When I accidentally kill the Alpha, I am forced to flee into a dangerous territory called the Bloodied Kingdoms, where I immediately encounter its terrifying ruler, the Bloodied King. A powerful, instant connection sparks between us, and I become his blood host, his source of life force.

But I am also the rejected mate of the werewolf king.

Now both kings want me. Do I choose one, or claim them both?

While others seek survival, I engage in flirtation

“You are going to suck my dick like a good girl.” He commanded, slapping his dick on my already stick out tongue. I wrapped my full lips around him and began bobbing my head up and down.

“I am going to cum but I still need to fuck your little pussy so good.” He pulled out of my mouth and pushed me down onto the bed.

“Fuck, you are so wet and dripping.” He groaned when he pressed his dick to my entrance, rubbing up and down my folds and coating it with the juice leaking out of me.

“Oh my goodness.” I breathed, instantly felt full. He was so damn big.


Evelin was forced into sheltering at the mafia Don safe house when her family was attacked and her father sent to prison under suspicion circumstances. She has to share space with the mafia heir, next Don Anthony Vincenzo. He was known as the Devil himself and pussy hunter.

When she becomes suspicious of the attack on her family, she begins a dangerous road to find answers. But what is more dangerous for her; the mafia Don or the truth someone desperately doesn't want her to find?

At Blackridge University, everyone knew the golden couple.

Taylor Hastings—the fierce, scholarship student who clawed her way to becoming head cheerleader—and Rowan Hayes, the hockey captain who treated her like the center of his universe.

They were campus royalty.

Until the video leaked.

One private night.
One humiliating betrayal.
And suddenly Taylor goes from adored to destroyed overnight.

Rowan swears it was an accident.

But Taylor knows the truth after hearing the whispers from his teammates… the jokes about the bet… the countdown they made over how long it would take him to get her into bed.

Their relationship was never love.

It was a game he won.

So Taylor decides to play one of her own.

Her target?
Hunter D’laurentis—the ruthless bad boy captain of Frostwood hockey and Rowan’s biggest rival.

Hunter wants one thing: the championship that could finally free him from his father’s suffocating control.

Taylor wants revenge brutal enough to make Rowan unravel before the biggest season of his life.

Fake dating should’ve been simple.

A few staged kisses.
A few jealous headlines.
A few public appearances designed to destroy a rival captain’s focus before the championship game.

But Hunter D’laurentis touches her like she’s something worth protecting instead of ruining.

And when the line between fake and real disappears beneath flashing cameras, screaming crowds, and bruised hearts, Taylor realizes revenge was never the dangerous part.

Falling for her rival was.

I'm an OB-GYN. On Valentine's Day, I pulled a ring out of a woman's vagina.

It turned out to be my husband's wedding ring.

An hour before, he'd texted me. Said he loved me. Said he was too busy with work to come home.

I wanted a divorce. Needed one. But then I found out—our marriage was never registered.

In his manor, I was nothing. Just a fake wife.

He grabbed me by the throat—right in front of his mistress. Called me "damaged goods." Said I'd spent a year in another man's house.

But that year, I went as a hostage in his place.

I ran. Made it to the cliff's edge, covered in blood. And the man who saved me? The mafia godfather who'd held me captive that whole year.

He looked at me. "Marry me."

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.

On the eve of the World Championship, my head coach's wife drugged me.
She personally destroyed my throwing arm and gave my starting jersey to her new substitute lover.
Even to "maintain the body" for that cheater, she disregarded my life and forcibly drained 1200 ml of my rare blood type.
She confidently declared, "In less than three days, he'll be crawling back to me like a dog."
I didn't make a scene; I calmly signed the divorce papers and dialed the number of that billionaire heiress.
Later, her cheating lover was disgraced and kicked out of the team.
She traveled halfway around the world, knelt at my wedding, and plunged a knife into her chest, begging me to come back.
I just coldly watched the security guards drag her away:
"Hurry up, don't dirty my wife's estate."

The first birthday after we finally made up.

Shen Linze sent me a menu and told me to cook everything myself.

He invited all his close friends, plus the girl he was chasing, saying it was a birthday party for me.

On the long dining table were the stir-fried dishes I’d spent three hours rushing to make.

Shen Linze picked up a piece of sweet and sour spareribs and carefully held it to the girl’s mouth.

“Yaoyao, have a taste. I asked Su Qingyan to make them specially—they’re all your favorite dishes.”

The girl sitting in the main seat didn’t react at all.

Shen Linze put down his chopsticks and told the servants to wheel out a custom-made multi-layer cake.

“Do you like it? I designed this just for you. It has the place where we first met, your prettiest smile,
your favorite flowers, your favorite color purple, the wedding you’ve always wanted, and the initials of your name: ZY…”

Three months ago, I’d seen that exact cake design in Shen Linze’s office.

After he finished the design, he brought in several top pastry chefs from abroad and spent three months making it.

My birthday was coming soon, and I’d thought the “ZY” on the cake stood for the last characters of both our names.

I never knew it was just my own foolish wishful thinking.

A childhood engagement, two decades in the making. I crossed an ocean for the sole purpose of marrying the heir to the Russell family.

But they led me to an abandoned construction site—where a blood-soaked man was swinging a steel pipe, fighting off ten attackers at once. This, they told me, was "my fiancé."

Bankrupt. Drowning in debt. Scraping by in underground fighting pits. They said he was living like a dog.

Meanwhile, the real heir had his arm around another woman, sneering at me from across the room. "Some gold-digging country girl thinks she deserves me? Find a nobody with the same last name—that's the best she'll ever get."

They made us into a joke—the washed-up loser paired with the clueless village hick.

What they didn't know was that I held several championship belts.

What they also didn't know was that this little "con" of theirs had already begun to unravel the moment I set foot in this city.

He said, "I don't know you. Mind your own business."

Too bad. I'd already made it mine.

This marriage? I was locking it down.

In a modern city of flights, glass hotels, and surveillance footage, Nora—an artist still recovering from surgery—watches her marriage rot behind polished excuses. As she traces her husband’s affair through airport selfies, joint-account charges, voice recordings, and a staged fall on the stairs, humiliation hardens into precision. Cold, sharp, and deeply satisfying, this is a divorce reckoning lit by rain, evidence files, airport confrontations, and the moment a woman stops begging to be chosen.

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.

Three years ago, my fiancé Asher stole my project achievements for his white moonlight Chloe and abandoned me cruelly.
Three years later, he returned arrogantly, ordering me to tidy up my villa, accept his mistress, and humble myself to apologize. He even humiliated me with a mistress contract.
A vicious supporting female system suddenly bound to me, forcing me to fawn on Asher, yield to Chloe, and end up miserable and jealous according to the fixed script.
But I refused to submit to fate.
I only want a peaceful and free life with my husband and my daughter.
I have never been a side character in anyone’s story. I am my own sole protagonist.

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 .

Ten years loving Liam Rockefeller cost me everything.

He said the football team jumped him—so I charged in and took the punches. He sobbed that his stepbrother would destroy him at Yale—so I ripped up my acceptance letter. He held me at midnight whispering "I'm so lucky to have you"—and I thought that meant forever.

Three months later, I heard him laughing in the locker room—laughing about me.

"Iris is like a fucking puppy, so easy to fool. Now that the Yale spot's open, Emily can go with me."

The bullying was staged. The tears were fake. Those intimate embraces—just tools to control me while he fucked his side piece.

He thought I'd still stand in front of him even with a broken nose. He thought I'd never wise up.

I wised up.

In his stepbrother Sebastian's bed.

I live twenty-four honest years, and fate hands me a terminal stomach cancer diagnosis as a reward. Less than a month left on the clock.

Right when I'm ready to flip off this godawful fate, the floor under me goes black, and I drop straight into an SSS-rank horror game.

The Midnight Bloodred Theater. Dried-out eyeballs for chandeliers, crusted blood for decoration.

The boss is some deranged silver-haired god with blood-red eyes, and he blows people into a bloody mist the second something doesn't go his way.

Everyone else is crying, begging for their lives.

Not me. I'm dying either way.

I walk right up onto that stage, plant my hand on his abs, and grin up at him.

"Hey, gorgeous. Before you kill me, how about a kiss?"

The day I get diagnosed with stage four lung cancer, I can finally stop selling plasma.

For five years, I thought I was paying for the fire that killed my parents and son, left my brother disabled. Selling plasma, joining drug trials, doing the worst jobs imaginable, all to pay back a debt that wasn't even real.

The doctor says I have a few weeks left. I clutch the diagnosis report and head home to tell them.

The moment I push open the door, I see my parents in the kitchen, the ones who supposedly died in the fire. My brother, who was supposed to be in a wheelchair, stands there raising a glass, laughing with my husband.

My brother shrugs like it's nothing. "The broken leg was fake the whole time. You were the only one hurt in the fire. We just wanted to teach you a lesson, make you appreciate things."

"We were going to tell you eventually." My husband pats my shoulder. "Go apologize to Vanessa. Stop giving her a hard time."

"All the money you gave us went to Vanessa," Dad says. "That's what you get for throwing your bio-daughter status in her face."

I touch the diagnosis in my pocket. Everything was a lie. The only truth is that I'm dying.

Six years of marriage, and I thought that if I tried hard enough, she would see me someday.
Yet she never gave me a hug, never called our son "sweetheart" once, and couldn't even stand him calling her "Mom."
She said I was calculating, that I was shameless.
I laughed. So, in her eyes, my love was a scam from the very beginning.
So, I signed the divorce papers and left town with our son.
I thought it was all over.
But then she said,
"I'm not leaving you."

When the car crashed, I took the brunt of the deadly, mangled steel for my brother, Damon, letting half of my face be sheared off and my spine destroyed.

When I woke up in the intensive care unit, he mercilessly tossed an Engagement Termination Agreement onto my hospital bed.

"You're disfigured now, practically a paralyzed cripple. Give Julian up to Lily."

"She's beautiful, healthy, and she's always been in love with him. Having her take your place at the wedding is the best option right now."

The hospital room door wasn't fully closed. I could clearly hear him and our adopted sister, Lily, whispering out in the hallway.

"Damon, you deliberately caused that crash just so I could replace her in the marriage alliance. What if she finds out?"

Damon's tone was indifferent. "She grew up stealing the spotlight as the family heir. Giving Julian to you is the least she can do. Once she signs the papers, I'll put her in the best private nursing home. Consider it compensation."

I bit down hard on my cracked lips. Tears smashed against the deep, bone-exposing lacerations on my face, burning so intensely it made me want to carve the flesh right off.

Lily's sweet voice drifted in: "I'll make sure to compensate her in the future, too."

But Damon, even if I don't sign, you'll both get exactly what you want very soon.

Because the doctor just told me that my body has gone into multiple organ failure due to the severe trauma. I only have a few days left to live.

"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."

While I bled to death locked in a storage room, my fiancé Adrian was holding my sister's hand, comforting her.

He hung up on my final call for help, leaving only a voicemail: "If anything happens to Lena, the engagement is off."

My sister once said her birthday wish had always been for me to disappear.

That night, her wish came true early.

But my soul never left.

I watched everyone gather around her, singing happy birthday.

As she blew out the candles, I whispered in her ear:

"Enjoy it while it lasts. This will be your last birthday."

For five years, I had turned Preston Tanner from a broke kid who could barely afford tuition into one of Silicon Valley's hottest young founders.
I thought we would do exactly what we had promised back in that garage—take our AI healthcare startup public, ring the opening bell together, and get married.
Until today.
At the product launch that would determine whether we landed our Series A, Preston stood before the press and credited the core algorithm patent I had spent seventy-two sleepless hours developing to a girl who couldn't even write Python.
"Sloane, you're already my fiancée," he said. "Willow needs this patent to strengthen her green-card application."
Staring at his utterly self-righteous face, I felt sick.
I didn't know when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, he had rotted from the inside out.
And if he was rotten, it was time to throw him away.

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.

Just because I got a B+ in physics, my father slapped me across the face and kicked me while I was down.

"If you worked even half as hard at school as we do at our jobs, you'd have straight A's!"

"Your mom and I kill ourselves every single day, and this is how you repay us?"

To make sure I couldn't argue anymore, they spent a fortune getting their hands on some kind of devil's contract.

Dad sneered: "Once this thing is signed, every hour we work, you have to study. Now that's what I call fair."

Mom nodded along: "No more complaining that we don't understand what you go through."

Looking at their smug, satisfied faces, I didn't argue. I just bit my finger and signed.

Because I knew better than anyone what their "killing ourselves" actually amounted to.

By the time the contract came due, they were on their knees begging me to cancel it.

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 best friend Lily was brutally assaulted and tragically took her own life.
But I fiercely protected the monster who did it.
Lily’s mom knelt down and begged me, but I just closed the door coldly.
When the villagers came with torches to smash my home, I didn't hesitate to unleash my dog to drive them away.
"Ivy, you cold-blooded monster! We treated you like family, and you protected the beast who drove Lily to her death for a whole decade!"
"Today, I’m going to show the whole world who this man is—the one you’d rather be cursed by everyone than expose!"
But when my deepest memories were violently torn open and the culprit's face appeared clearly on the giant holographic screen...
The high and mighty Emma instantly drained of all color and collapsed to the floor.

Spring is the season I dread the most.

Because every spring, my mere existence becomes a lethal weapon against my own son.

Theron told me he suffers from a highly rare condition: Maternal Stress Rejection Syndrome.

If I so much as get near Flynn during the spring months, it triggers severe asthma attacks and terrifying asphyxiation.

To keep our boy alive, Theron takes him away to an isolated treatment center for three months, every single year.

And I stay behind, swallowing antidepressants by the handful just to survive the crushing guilt.

That is, until I found a photo hidden in Theron's burner phone.

In the picture, my husband and my son are tightly embracing another woman.

The so-called Maternal Stress Rejection Syndrome was nothing but a sick lie—a meticulously crafted excuse so my husband could spend the season playing "happy family" with his first love.

......

I caught my husband sleeping with my sister, so I burned it all down.
The fire burned fierce, swallowing that abandoned cabin in the woods, along with my shattered marriage.
With the stench of gasoline still lingering on my fingertips, I thought I had finally buried the man who betrayed me.
Until the next morning, when he walked through the front door without a single scratch.
My mind reeled.
If he was still alive... then who the hell did I burn to a crisp last night?

Elroy has severe OCD. In the ten years we've been together, he's never allowed me to eat in his car.
On our tenth anniversary, we made plans to watch the stars together.
But just as I reached the mountaintop, my phone rang—it was him.
"Something came up at work. I can't make it tonight. You go ahead and enjoy the view."
The moment he hung up, I saw his female classmate's post about returning to the country.
Catalina was sitting in his passenger seat, holding a half-eaten piece of cake in her hands.
【Someone was afraid I'd get hungry coming back so late, so he specially brought me this little cake～】
Another picture showed Catalina's shoes—still on—planted firmly on the passenger seat.
【He says I'm the only exception to his OCD～ I can do whatever I want in his car, hehe.】
I looked up at the twinkling stars above me, a bitter smile tugging at my lips.
This was the tenth time he'd abandoned me.
Every single anniversary without fail, this "female classmate" of his would show up.
I once tried to gently tell him: "I don't want to be interrupted like this every time."
Elroy looked at me with displeasure. "Interrupted? Catalina is my friend. Can you not be so petty?"
The cold wind howled across the mountaintop. Catalina's words stuck in my heart like a thorn, stinging until my eyes grew wet.
After ten years, I'm done with this relationship.

"I quit." I slammed the words onto the table like a verdict.
From my purse, I pulled out the papers I had carried for weeks, the ones I had drafted in the dead of night while he was in her bed, and slapped them in front of him.
DIVORCE.
Serena Vaughn had been invisible for too long, the discarded wife of Damien Blackwood, a billionaire who saw her as nothing more than a trophy. But when humiliation became unbearable, she walked away, ignoring the world's bets that she would crawl back.
Months later, Serena returns, but she is no longer the woman he dismissed. Now the CEO of a revolutionary tech empire, her brilliance commands respect, admiration and desire. Society that mocked her now fights for her attention: a Nobel-winning scientist, a Wall Street titan, even Hollywood's hottest star, all vying to be the man in her life.
But Damien is not ready to let go. When he confronts her, demanding to know if her child is his, Serena's icy reply cuts him deeper than any words ever could. "That's none of your business, ex-husband. Step aside."
The game has begun. Old enemies circle like vultures, but Serena is no longer prey. One by one, they fall under her power, until only one question remains: how far will a broken man go when the woman he discarded becomes the queen of his ruin?

[WARNING 18+]
This book contains descriptive intimate and violent scenes. There could be triggering content like self-harm, drug addiction, and depression.
[TROPES]
Billionaire. Revenge. Second Chance. Escape while pregnant.

When Mellow Fanning married Zeath Lupin, the cold chairman of Lupin Group, she thought their love was forever. But everything crumbled when he introduced his pregnant mistress at a family dinner.
Angry, Mellow sought to make Zeath restless by kidnapping the mistress. However, that resulted in a tragedy that nearly claimed her life and that of the child growing inside her—a child Zeath didn’t deserve.
She faked her death and ran away, bound to return as Zeath’s only means to remain as the chairman of Lupin Group.
Would he recognize her? Would she accept his apology if he ever gave one? And what would happen when the threat she once fled from rekindled, endangering her and her child’s lives once more?











“Do you know how much I wished you wouldn’t come near me, or even... touch me?” Zeath drones on. “All those cuddles and kisses, all the affection, made my skin crawl—like a troll embracing its victim before gobbling them. One can only imagine how much it stinks. You are no different from that troll. You merely caught my attention because you were a self-absorbed twonk, and we needed to test if you even had the heart to love another.”
“We?” I croak out.
Then Zeath’s fingers trail gently along my face, his eyes glinting with pure poison, and his voice is no better.
“Poor Mellow, it is all a dare, a gratifying one. Divorce or not, it’s your choice.”

When Sadie Greer gets into an arranged marriage with a Crypto developer, an evil wrapped in a pretty thousand-dollar suit, she only agrees to escape the family trap with a hefty price tag.

With an ulterior motive, Cenric Wollf marries the daughter of his enemy until they fall deeper into their own trap.


Adley Kross does something beyond imaginable—proposing marriage to the stranger for her inheritance.

Mykel Creed’s only priority is making himself filthy rich with a bit of fun along the way.

It doesn’t take long enough for them to realize they married for the wrong reason.


Princess Carlott lost everything in a blink of an eye with one mistake.

She has built herself as Carly Storm and promised no more foolish mistakes until she stumbles with a grumpy but irresistible CEO, Rome Langston— her boss.

Rome is new in the business, but maybe a distraction is all he needs. What can go wrong with a bit of fun?


London Vanderford is never a rule-breaker until the god-like returns as her temporary bodyguard.

When her father threatens to shut down her clothing line, Striker volunteers to help— marrying her.

The more they spend time together, the more they realize they can’t live without each other.


Estelle Bladwyn bumps into a hot thirty-ish man on her not-so-romantic-getaway. Their growing attraction is overwhelming, but her life is already complicated. But who can deny someone like Linden?

Gabe Linden is getting old and still single and done with hookups and doing favors until it comes from someone he looks up to.

With one look at Estelle, he knows he’s already in deep trouble.

This is a collection of werewolf stories that will keep you on the edge of your seat, flipping through the pages and wanting more.


Book1: Her Alpha Mate
Freya is the joy and life of the pack. All revere her as the daughter of Alpha.
She's blessed by the moon goddess. The Moon Goddess blessed her with a heart of gold.
But her mate Zack, an alpha, doesn't want her because he doesn't want a mate.


Book 2: Her Broken Mate
Sarah is now twenty-three and still without a mate.
When visiting the packhouse, she finally found her mate.
The son of the Alpha. The hottest man she ever met.
But he is a mute.


Book 3: Her Passion
Ava is a rogue who is forced by a new law to attend a school for werewolves for a year. There she meets her mate, a certain Alpha, who has a grudge against all rogues. Will he get the life he has always longed for, or will his pride get the better of him?