366 Book(s) Related to old flames never die lifetime

When Irene's pack is falling apart, her twin sister was betrothed to the rumored beast to save their pack, but when her sister got sick, Irene has no choice but to be shoved at Alpha Enrique's hands as his substitute bride.

He had made it clear that their relationship is nothing but cordial and business. However, Alpha Enrique needs Irene for an important reason.

Their feelings are clear, no love in their marriage. But, then as these two start to navigate their true feelings and the danger that stands in their way. Will they stand by each other and defeat the rising danger? Or will these buried secrets, visions and powers tear them apart?

Elias Verne, the invisible and powerless porter of the Azure Guild, endured humiliation for twenty-two long years with no hope of ever mattering. But one forbidden dungeon is about to change his life, and he is going to make the world pay dearly for every year they looked through him.

"They didn't just kill your men, Rhen. They built you from their ashes."

Captain Rhen Marek woke on a field of his brothers' corpses with a System that let him raise the dead, and something ancient already wearing his grief like a key.

He marched back to the capital smiling. Playing loyal. Playing broken.

While his legion grew in the dark.

While the dead whispered things that sounded more like him every day.

While the woman who designed the massacre watched him rise, and started to doubt her ending.

Three forces are using him.

He's only found two.

Nine months pregnant and about to give birth, my husband Zane locked me in the wine cellar.
All because his widowed business partner, Elena, was also giving birth today.
"You almost made Elena go into labor early. You need to think about what you've done."
Agonizing contractions wracked my body. I dropped to my knees, begging him, "Zane, please─the baby is coming now! He will die!"
He just shoved me down the cold stone steps, his eyes icy cold.
"Stop lying! Your due date isn't today. You'll do anything for attention, won't you?"
"Tonight, only Elena's safety matters. You'll stay here until you admit you were wrong!"
The heavy wooden door slammed shut, snuffing out the last bit of hope I had left.
Hours later, Zane was cradling Elena's newborn son, calling the maid.
"Elena had a boy. I couldn't be happier. Let my wife out—I'm willing to forgive her little tantrum today."
But on the other end of the phone, the maid was sobbing.
"Sir... your wife and the baby... they're already gone."

Salem pairs with Malik Roane, her partner, to chase leads quietly. But trust starts to crack. Malik knows more about her past than he admits.

The killer escalates victims are murdered in ways tied to specific foster kids. One was drowned in a bathtub. Another buried with dolls stuffed in their mouths.

Salem visits Dr. Ezra Kade, who helped her after a traumatic incident she can’t fully remember. He urges her to access what she’s repressed.

Meanwhile, a viral influencer, Tasha Bloom, starts releasing video clips from an anonymous source. Each one paints Salem as unstable, dangerous… possibly guilty.

Someone is watching Salem. Filming her. They know what happened in that house. And now, the world might know too

The loan sharks who kidnapped us wanted payment for my twin sister's gambling debts—in blood.

When my FBI negotiator father showed up with his tactical team, he found Lily with a paper cut, crying her heart out. I was dying from a gunshot wound in a basement below.

I called him with my dying breath: "Dad, please send help. I'm bleeding out."

"Are you kidding me right now, Emily? Your sister just went through hell, and you're pulling this pathetic stunt for attention? How sick are you?"

He hung up. I died alone, dismissed as a liar.

Three days later, they found my body. And the truth that came with it burned their perfect world to ash.

"She took everything from me," I whispered.
Benjamin nodded once. "But she doesn't know you're alive."
" I want revenge," I said, my voice cold. "She doesn't get to win. Not after this."
"I figured you would," Benjamin said.
"Why did you help me?" I asked him. "Why are you helping me?
"Just know that I'm your secret admirer."He said.


On the day of my wedding, I was stabbed, left to die... and forgotten. While I bled in my wedding dress, my fiancé married my sister.
And my adoptive family, the people who I thought loved me, never even looked for me. They all moved on, like I never existed. I thought my world had ended.
But I refused to stay a victim. Benjamin Grey, CEO of Grey Global found me, saved me, and helped me rise again.
When I thought I would get my revenge, I found out that my biological mother who had been missing for fifteen years was alive, and held captive by my adoptive parents.
The more I try to find peace, the more trouble comes in. And I wished I had died that day. Maybe death would've been easier than living with everything I now know. Maybe I won't have to face all these traumas.
But life had other plans.

Seraphina Cole has spent years trying to forget the night the forest took everything from her. A vanished best friend. A memory carved out of her mind. A story no one fully believed, not even her.

But when her six-year-old daughter begins speaking to someone only she can see, and unnerving signs appear around their home, Sera is forced to confront the possibility she’s spent her adult life outrunning:
whatever happened in those woods didn’t end that night.

Desperate for answers, she turns to the last person she wanted to need, Eli Reyes, the childhood sweetheart she lost, the boy who once knew every piece of her. Eli believes her without hesitation. Protects her without question. But the secrets he carries from that night are darker than she ever imagined, and the bond they share isn't as buried as she pretended.

As Sera and Eli flee with Maya to escape the escalating danger, the past begins to claw back with terrifying precision. Strange footprints follow them. Voices slip through cracks in the walls. Doors open on their own. And Sera’s missing memories return in shards, fragments sharp enough to cut, never quite revealing the face she’s trying to remember.

The deeper they run, the stranger the truth becomes. Every mile pulls Sera closer to a horrifying realization: something in the forest marked her long before she understood the word haunted. Something still wants her.

Caught between a past she can’t escape and a threat she can’t identify, Sera must uncover what really happened that night before the thing following her finally steps out of the dark.

A gripping psychological thriller with a supernatural edge, this is a story about memory, survival, and the shadows that grow from the wounds we hide.

On the day I lost our child, I discovered my husband entwined in an affair with his secretary.

He hurried to my hospital bed, tears brimming in his eyes, vowing that we would have another baby—while his mistress was already sixteen weeks pregnant.

Thus, I granted him his wishes: a lamenting wife's performance, a fabricated death, and a clean escape.

Three months later, he crashed through the door, eyes frenzied, proclaiming he would set the world ablaze to earn my forgiveness.

In the year 2333, humanity has fallen and ruled by werewolves. Bellatrix Sinclair, an 18-year-old weapons prodigy that despises werewolves for destroying her family has been secretly planning to join the human rebellion.
However, she is forced into the Mate Selection Process and matched with Lazarus De Loughrey, the ruthless Werewolf King obsessed with claiming her.
He shouldn't want her and she should hate him but they cannot resist each other. It's a twisted connection, entirely physical because all I am is his slave.
My heart should belong to my best friend Emmett, a human. Atleast the guilt of betrayal wouldn't be eating away at my insides.


“Yes please.” She begs.
“Then fucking let me in.” I growled, this fury exploding with vengeance. I wanted to destroy her pussy.
It was maddening, it was sickening, it was barbaric.
But I never claimed to be saint.
“Here that baby, that’s the sound of your greedy pussy sucking on my cock. Give me more, drench me.”
“Lazarus.” She moans painfully, “Please let me come.”
I’m doused in gasoline and set alight, sweat coats my skin as I pound into her faster and harder. I’m definitely hurting her, “Wanna come?” I rasped, “Not until I say so.”
Pressing my lips onto hers, pushing my tongue into her mouth until I feel the sweetness of hers. The kiss is sloppy and filthy. She cries as I drive my cock into her, the intensity too much to handle, sweet tears sliding onto her cheeks.
“Fuck yes.” I smile sadistically, licking her tears. “Cry for me Ma Cherie.”
“Please, please let me come My King.” She pleads.
“Say it again.” Lightening shooting down my spine as she begged, “My King, please let me come. I’ll be good.”
I chuckled, “Try your luck to kill me Ma Cherie, I dare you.”

"Strip her naked and throw her in a dog cage."
When Vincent Sterling gave the order, Serena clutched her stomach in despair: "I'm carrying your baby!"
Vincent just lit a cigarette, watching coldly as the bodyguard’s boot slammed into her belly. "Get rid of it. I don't want anything filthy."
That night, to avenge his childhood sweetheart, Vincent personally killed his own flesh and blood, trampling his wife—whom he had loved for ten years—into the mud.
Later, the truth came to light.
The so-called "infidelity videos" are AI-generated, and the manipulative woman's pain is self-perpetuated.
Seeing the signed divorce agreement and the blood-stained ring, the arrogant Vincent went completely mad.
He knelt in the pouring rain for three days and nights, begging her to come back.
This time, Serena sat in her wheelchair, gazing down at him with an icy, detached gaze.
"Vincent, I don't hate you, but I hate you for being filthy."

Book 1: Loving the billionaire series.

It was supposed to be one night, one night to forget about her cheating fiancé and her lying best-friend. But, one night ended up as a one-night stand with a mysterious stranger Arya Morris knew nothing about.

It was easy pretending that the night ever happened, but then she got pregnant and now, three years later, billionaire Devon Brookes is standing at her doorstep, demanding his daughter, he’s nothing like that night, he’s stiff and colder.

She wants nothing to do with Devon, so she’s pushing him away, how far can she give in? With the temptations that follow, secrets and underlying danger, will they stand together? Does she have a place in his heart to heal him? Or, does fate have another way for her?

Book 2: A game with the billionaire.

Book 3: Taming the billionaire.

"Kill him before the sixth marriage. Or none of us walk out of this world alive."

Darius Valeborn was exiled for being weak. Then he survived a plague goddess's touch, and the world stopped making sense.

Now six divine catastrophes call him husband, seven empires want him dead, and the gods themselves are whispering his name like a warning.

He didn't ask for any of this.

He's very good at it anyway.

But the secret behind his bloodline just surfaced, and it wasn't his enemies who buried it.

It was someone who needed him exactly like this.

"You were supposed to stay dead."

"I did. This is what came back."

Darius Voss was betrayed, butchered, and left to rot among ten thousand corpses. Now he commands every last one of them.

As the Hollow King carves a rising empire from the kingdom's bleeding edges, the Holy Crown sends their most lethal weapon, a radiant priestess whose light physically tears his power apart. She is the only thing on this continent that can stop him.

She doesn't know what she's really hunting.

He doesn't know what she's really carrying inside her soul.

But the dead remember everything.

Lunar Depletion Syndrome. Seven days.
That was my death countdown. And my Alpha mate Kael was still threatening me, demanding I use the last of my life force to save my sister.
On our third anniversary, he had given me a surgical consent form and dissolution papers as gifts.
How laughable.
Three years ago he had said my eyes sparkled like stars. Three years later he wanted me to close them forever.
They all said I had finally matured, learned the spirit of sacrifice expected of an older sister. The joke was, I hadn't been moved by love.
I was just tired.
Why struggle when death was inevitable?
Rather than dying alone in the wilderness, it was better to die on the operating table and become the perfect sacrifice in their story.

That night, I was dragged into a parking lot and beaten until my hands could never hold a scalpel again.

I thought it was random. Until I heard my own brother and fiancé talking—

"Those thugs went too far, but the result works out, doesn't it? This time, the award will go to Charlotte."

Charlotte. The "poor orphan" my family adopted.

For twelve years, she stole my papers, my opportunities, my glory. And the two men I trusted most handed her everything on a silver platter.

They called me spoiled. Selfish. Difficult.

They even believed I started the fire that killed our parents twelve years ago.

But here's the truth: Charlotte started that fire. I was the one who dragged them out.

They thanked the wrong sister. For twelve years.

Now they want me dead.

Fine. Let Penelope Ashworth die.

My husband is sleeping with my own sister. Cliché, right? I drove to Black Pine Lake to catch them, but stumbled into a brilliantly twisted murder trap instead. Now, the cops think I am a jealous, psychotic killer. Declan believes he dug the perfect grave for me. But did he?

I was always the extra daughter in the Cross family.
To my parents, I was nothing more than a walking blood bank for Clara. To my husband Adrian, I was a sinner who needed to atone for her crimes.
When Adrian forced me to donate a kidney to my sister, I agreed.
Not only did I agree, I liquidated every asset I owned and transferred it all to my research lab.
They thought I was stupid, thought I was still desperate for their love.
But all I was doing was putting my affairs in order.
The night before the surgery, I coughed up blood all over the table.
Adrian sneered over the phone. "Cut the act, Evelyn. You'll do anything to dodge responsibility. You just want attention—how pathetic."
The surgery was a "success."
My sister got the kidney she'd always wanted.
And I died in the recovery room.
My soul floated above my body as I watched Adrian walk into the hospital room, that patronizing smile on his face, ready to put on his "repentant husband" act.
"Eve, I know you've been hurt. Let's start over..."
The only answer he got was a white sheet pulled over my face.

Her world shatters when she discovers her husband celebrating his secret daughter's birthday while their own son fights for life. As her marriage crumbles under the weight of lies, the only one standing by her is his brother, Liam, with his silent devotion. Now, caught between a husband entangled in a web of power and deceit who will stop at nothing to win her back, and a brother who has loved her from the shadows for years, Maya faces an impossible choice. Two brothers, one devastating war fought in the name of love. Her choice will reshape their destinies forever...

"You're not the monster, Jun. You're the blueprint."

The corporations built the Beast System to create weapons. They didn't expect the weapon to think. To adapt. To father.

Now his face stares back at him from wanted notices across the archipelago, atrocities he didn't commit, strategies only he could design, bodies left in patterns that feel disturbingly familiar.

The thing inside him isn't just evolving.

It's multiplying.

And Mei's voice, bleeding through every mutation like a wound that won't close, keeps whispering the one question he can't answer …

"What happens when you stop fighting what you're becoming?"

He doesn’t know I watched him for years.
Not from afar. Not casually.
Obsession isn’t casual.

I was fourteen the first time I saw him.
He was eighteen, beautiful, untouchable, everything I decided I needed.

So I made a plan.

I befriended his brother.
I won his mother’s trust.
I moved into his orbit so seamlessly, he never questioned it.

Now, I’m his wife.
He calls it fate.
He tells people we were meant to be.
But he doesn’t know the truth was designed.

He doesn’t know about the notes.
The maps.
The screenshots.
The years of silence, waiting, stalking, perfecting the version of me he would fall in love with.

But secrets don’t stay buried forever.
And the deeper you bury a lie, the louder it screams when it surfaces.

Because he just found my old phone.

And the man I stalked for a decade…
Is now stalking me.

Was it ever love, or just revenge in disguise?

Have you ever been treated like a stand-in for your dead sibling by your own mother? I have.

Have you ever been murdered by your own mother? I have.

My name is Aira, and today is my sister Lily's birthday. It's also the anniversary of my death—the day the washing machine became my coffin.

"Why couldn't it have been you who died?"

After four long years, my mom finally got her wish.

"You know what? Your expression when playing chess looks like you're about to murder someone," I laugh, cornering his king. "Checkmate."

In that moment, I catch a flash of surprise in his eyes, followed by a dark emotion I can't quite decipher.

He stands abruptly, his tall figure looming over me. "No one wins at my game, Miss Valencia. No one."


Oliver Kang, a twenty-eight-year-old billionaire, carries a secret beneath his icy exterior—a rare condition that makes human touch unbearable, leaving him isolated in a world of wealth and power. His life of calculated precision shatters the night he catches Dallas Valencia attempting to steal from his mansion.

Their deal is simple: work as his maid or face the police. But when Oliver discovers something impossible—that Dallas's touch doesn't trigger his painful reactions—his carefully constructed walls begin to crumble.

Dallas Valencia never planned to become the personal maid to New York's coldest billionaire. With an empty bank account and a stubborn spirit, she accepts his ultimatum, determined to endure his arrogance until she can escape. What she never expected was to become the only person who could physically touch him—the cure to his lifelong affliction.

"What have you done to me?" he traps me against the wall one night, his voice low and raspy. "Why is it only you?"

Everyone says love is the strongest feeling in the world. That you can do anything for the ones you love.

I don't agree with them.

There is no emotion stronger than betrayal. It is a powerful weapon that can make you do anything, be anything.

Especially when that betrayal comes from the people you put above everything else.
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Locked away her entire life, Eloise only craved one thing, freedom to run around in her shifted form like other werewolves. But when her 18th birthday came, she was told she was going to get married. The news triggered her wolf and she began to shift. She was taken by surprise when her family used their witch magic to lock her wolf inside her. The magic pushed into her was too much that she blacked out.

When Eloise regained consciousness, she couldn't feel her wolf inside her anymore. But that became the least of her problems as she realized she was no longer among her kind, she was in the midst of dragons. Creatures who hunt her kind for fun.

She was given one choice to escape execution. She must learn how to use her unstable magic to heal the dragon shifters of a terrible plague.

Betrayed by her family and left with no other options, Eloise enrolled in Drakmor College, where she must survive deadly trials and hatred of the students surrounding her.

A werewolf in the midst of her mortal enemies. Will she survive and return safely to her kind, or will she succumb to the horrors of Varethin?

THIS BOOK IS A SEQUEL BUT CAN ALSO BE READ AS A STANDALONE. FOR MORE CONTEXT, READ “THE BILLIONAIRE'S CURE” FIRST

“I want nothing more than to fuck your brains till you remember who the fuck you belong to, Millie.” he breathed,

I leaned closer to him on instinct. I wanted to tell him to do that. To fuck me till my voice became hoarse from screaming his name. But I couldn't risk everything just for a moment with him anymore.

I pulled away, the words tasting bitter as they spilled out of my mouth, “I would never be yours again.”

The evil grin on his face was evidence that he knew how much of a liar I was.
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Years after Heather walked out of her old life, she had gotten almost everything she wanted. A perfect job and amazing friends who cared about her. The only problem was her new boss's cousin who was also her ex-boyfriend.

Heather tried everything to avoid Ethan and the questions he would ask: “Why did she leave him?”

But after she moved in to a new apartment and realized they were neighbors, she couldn't avoid him forever.

Dark secrets from the past uncovered and a mystery person from Heather's old life appeared, their presence threatening to destroy the new life she had built for herself. Or worse. The man she had once left everything for.

As the secrets revealed, Heather had to choose between preserving her multiple identities and keep lying to the people she loves, or come clean to them and risk them hating her forever.

She had to find a way to do both without losing anything. Will she succeed in her quest and get back the love of her life? Or would her worst fear come true when he realized he couldn't love all versions of her?

“I’m going to kill you, but first, I want to kiss you...” he groaned, his hands tightening on my throat and eyes lidded with lust.

His grip wasn't tight enough to hurt, just enough to show dominance. He would never hurt me, I was certain of that.

I leaned forward, my lips hovering just above his, our breaths mixed.

“Then kiss me already, QB.” his nostrils flared and then he slanted his lips with mine.
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Harley Smith had the perfect life, until she didn't. One unfortunate accident had her mother in a coma and her father's business going bankrupt. Left with no choice, Harley struck a deal with her enemy: tutor him and get paid.

When the star quarterback of the school is suddenly out of the league for senior year because of a knee injury, Asher is forced to find alternative ways to get into college aside football. He couldn't stand school, nor could he stand Harley, his twin brother's best friend. But she was his only shot at a future outside of football.

The two are forced to work together for their benefits. How far will they keep their alliance before years of rivalry tears it apart? Or will their alliance evolve into something more?

“Who can't control themself now?” I smirked, certain I had gained the upper hand despite the arousal soaking my underwear.

His jaws flexed as he closed in on me, his hands on either sides of the island, his musky scent invading my senses. My gaze involuntarily went to his bare chest, trailing the muscled planes, the six packed abs, and finally settled on the visible bulge in his sweatpants.

He grabbed my hand and placed it on his erection, his eyes lidded with lust. I stifled a moan at the sheer size of him.

“I never said I could control myself around you, Princess.”
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Stephanie expected to hate her stepbrother even before she moved in. He was everything she wasn't. Charming, easygoing, but with an ego the size of Mount Everest.

He infuriated her in ways no one had ever done, but he also managed to tempt her. She hated being vulnerable, but he managed to make her reveal her vulnerability.

When the step siblings were brought together by their shared love for motorcycles and the zeal to destroy an opponent, they were forced to put their differences aside for their goal.

It was just supposed to be for one weekend. Right?

She wasn't going to fall for him, not when he was forbidden in every way possible. He was her stepbrother, her nemesis, and she loathed him.

It didn't matter that he was the only one that made her heart race with excitement at the mere sight of him.

His determined enough not to let her go again. So he take all his courage to say these words to her.

"Why can't it be? Why can't it be the two of us? Why can't we be lovers? Only friends?

Her psychological condition is the main reason.

Her emotion is always splitting.

The young man belongs to a wealthy clan, he is a billionaire who had a dark past unknown to the society where he belongs at present. Only the lady knew his deepest secret, his past. She played the big role in his life long time ago…

When they meet again, the memories of his past comes back to him. Then the billionaire hope that maybe at present time they can be more than just friend but then again the lady wants to say goodbye to him.

Would she stay? Or would she say goodbye?

Will can they be lovers? Or will can't be?

To the police, she’s a rogue agent. To the Mafia, she’s a dead woman walking.

Marilyn Collins took a dead woman’s name to hunt a monster. Instead, she became Lucian Volkov’s obsession. He thinks she’s the ex-lover who broke his heart. She knows he’s the man who might have killed her friends.

In the heat of his bedroom, the interrogation turns into a blood-pumping game of cat and mouse. Every kiss is a lie, and every touch is a sin.

But when the real killer emerges from the shadows of her own precinct, Marilyn must choose: the badge she once wore, or the Mafia King who would burn the world down to keep her. Two enemies, one bed, and a secret that could destroy them both.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm the forgotten eldest son of the Cross family.
My parents see me as a walking blood bag for my brother Colin, while my wife views me as a sinner destined to spend my life atoning for my mistakes.
When Audrey pressured me to donate a kidney, I agreed.
Not only did I agree, but I also liquidated all my assets and transferred them to my lab.
They thought I was foolish, that I was still begging for their love.
In reality, I was just tying up loose ends.
The night before the surgery, I coughed up a pool of blood.
Audrey laughed coldly over the phone: "Stop the act, Evan. You just want to dodge responsibility. You'll go to any lengths for attention."
The surgery was a "success."
Colin got the kidney he'd always dreamed of.
And I died in the recovery room.
My soul floated in the air as I watched Audrey push open the hospital door, wearing a smile that dripped with pity, ready to put on a show of "redemption."
"Evan, I know you've been wronged. Let's start over..."
The only response to her was the white sheet covering my lifeless body.

Three torturous years hauling bodies on the mortuary night shift, and I'd finally scraped together the cash for my brother Charles's heart transplant.
He just waved it off.
"My heart is fine. Mom and Dad didn't die in that gang war, either. I orchestrated the hit. You were the only casualty."
Nearby, my husband, Gerald, casually lit a cigar to deliver his own confession. "I never went bankrupt. 'Laying low' was just my excuse to avoid squeezing into that dingy funeral home dorm with you. I've been at the Long Island estate."
"I was going to punish you for another three years," Charles added, "but the stench of formaldehyde on you is nauseating. We couldn't take it anymore."
I froze, still clutching the credit card. Charles plucked the plastic from my numb fingers and shoved his phone screen in my face. A banking app stared back at me.
Balance: exactly zero.
"My name is still on the joint account," he sneered, tossing the card into the trash. "I drained it this morning. That blood money you made bagging stiffs is being handed out to street junkies as we speak. We'd never touch that filth."
Before the sheer absurdity of it could suffocate me, my parents walked in. Flanked by bodyguards, they kept their distance, eyeing me like a plague rat.
"You thought being the biological daughter gave you the right to ruthlessly bully Violet. We simply wanted to put you in your place."
"Swear you'll never cross Violet again, and you can remain a Falcone," my mother added coolly. "Otherwise, you're dead to us."
In the stifling silence that followed, my phone buzzed. A text from my oncologist.
[Mrs. Castello, the results are back. It's terminal. Do you consent to initiating the hospice and DNR protocols we discussed?]

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.

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 was dying — and he was loving someone else.
I left.
Now he wants me back… but will I let him?

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 died on the day my fiancé Song Jinnian got engaged to his white moonlight, Shen Zhiyi.

Shen Zhiyi wore the evening dress designed by Song Jinnian himself, smiling sweetly as she linked her arm through his, accepting blessings from every guest in the hall.

I was at the scene of a car crash on Highway 23, half a steel rebar piercing straight through my chest. Warm blood trickled down the cold metal, pooling into a stark, glaring red pool beneath me.

I called Song Jinnian seventeen times.

He hung up instantly on the first sixteen.

On the seventeenth ring, he finally answered.

The melodic music of the banquet hall hummed in the background. His voice was low, laced with unbridled impatience: “What’s your problem now? How many times do I have to say it—marrying Zhiyi is just a formality. Can’t you act your age and quit this nonsense?”

I tried to speak, but blood froth surged up my throat, stealing my ability to form a full sentence. All I heard was the busy tone as he hung up without a second thought, echoing in the empty car, one beep at a time, shattering my last shred of hope.

Song Jinnian would never know that the girl he dismissed as a spoiled, tantrum-throwing lady was pinned to the driver’s seat by that steel rebar.

Beneath my slightly bulging abdomen lay our two-month-old unborn child.

Trembling, I let go of the phone soaked in blood. With my final ounce of strength, I dialed the funeral home.

“Hello. Near Highway 23… please come collect a body from a car crash.”

A pause came from the other end, followed by the routine question:

“Who are you to the deceased?”

All around me, only the rain hammered against the car windows, and my breath grew fainter and fainter. I forced out my last words:

“I am… the deceased herself.”

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.

I was taking six-year-old Arabella to fit her dress for the theater's grand opening.
As we crossed the intersection, a truck suddenly lost control and T-boned our car.
When I opened my eyes again, an agonizing pain ripped through me. I opened my mouth to call out Everett's name, only to hear his hushed voice seeping through the crack in the door—
"Staging an unavoidable accident was the only way to use the emergency room as a cover for the drug trial."
"Now that Ophelia's treatment is a success, there's naturally no need for that little bastard to live."
My Arabella. She was secretly wheeled into the operating room by him, used as a human guinea pig for his mistress Delilah's daughter, who had bone cancer. Her sweet, bell-like vocal cords were cruelly carved out and transplanted into another child's throat.
In that defining moment, I realized he had never loved my daughter.
But what he didn't know—the child he just murdered with his own hands was his one and only flesh and blood.

Three years of marriage. Three pregnancies.

Every time I confirmed I was pregnant, my sister-in-law Ophelia would walk into the chapel behind the manor.

Then my in-laws would drag me to the hospital and force me to abort the healthy baby.

The night after my third miscarriage, I dragged my weakened body to follow her into the chapel.

The moment I pushed open that door, my blood ran cold.

In that instant, I finally understood why my three children had to die.

As if rejecting his marriage proposal was not enough, she went ahead to broke-shame him and leave him for his best friend.

With a heart shattered in pieces, Arthur fell into depression, but not long later, the stars shone on him.

One day he was poor, and the next day he was a Multi-Billionaire. An unexpected twist in his story.

Now filled with hatred and distrust towards women, Arthur swore never to love again, but then he needed an heir to carry on his name

How could that be possible without a woman?

Of course! Surrogacy!! But even then, life was unfair to him. She disappeared with his babies, not one, but three!!

But Arthur was down in the Path of Revenge, The Billionaire’s triplets must be found!!

Trigger/Content Warning:
This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised.
It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language.
This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire.


“Take off your dress, Meadow.”

“Why?”

“Because your ex is watching,” he said, leaning back into his seat. “And I want him to see what he lost.”

••••••••••••*
Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance.

One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger’s offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring.

Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel.
He also suffers from a neurological condition—he can’t feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch.

Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed.
She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience… revenge.
But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming.

Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything.

Alaric doesn’t share what’s his.
Not his company.
Not his wife.
And definitely not his vengeance.

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...

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.

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.

My five-year-old son, Emrys, was poisoned by the deadly "Silver Eclipse." The only cure, Moonbloom Serum, had been seized entirely by my husband, Corvin, to save it for his nine-month-pregnant mistress, Melisande.
He froze all my bank accounts, forcing me to pawn the ring that symbolized my status as Luna and brave the dangerous black market just to secure the antidote.
But by the time I rushed back to the hospital, covered in blood, my child’s organs had already failed. He was gone.
When I threw the death certificate and divorce papers in Corvin’s face in despair, he just looked at me with mockery, accusing me of using our own flesh and blood to put on an act for his attention.
At that moment, all my love for him died completely. I took my son’s ashes, left the Ashmere pack, and decisively severed a mate bond that had tied us together for years...

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

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

On the night my grandmother died, my husband Kael came home trailing blood.
His leather motorcycle jacket was soaked dark red, yet he flashed a savage grin: "I wiped the floor with those bastards tonight!"
For three years, he had treated our home as nothing more than a pit stop between reckless street races.
I’d finally had enough. "After the funeral, we're getting a divorce."
Before the words fully left my mouth, my phone rang. It was his riding partner, Lunn, his voice choking with sobs: "Sera... Kael drove off the cliff tonight. They only recovered bloody pieces of his helmet!"
But the "dead man" was standing right in front of me...

For six years, I wore Pack silver. I sold my blood. I scrubbed silver out of Pack den floors. I slept on a basement floor — all to pay off my mate's Pack debt and buy my brother's wolfsbane antidote.
Today, with the receipt finally signed, my brother looked at me and said:
"Seren, I was never poisoned. Our parents aren't dead either. The Rogue raid six years ago — I arranged it. The only wolf hurt that night was you."
My mate stepped up behind him: "I never lost my Pack rank either. I've been at the estate the whole time."
Then my parents — the ones I'd buried seven years ago — walked through the door.
The Pack physician had given me forty-eight hours left to live.
They were going to remember every single one.