3727 Book(s) Related to i married my ex s mistress s uncle

Nineteen times. That's how many times Lucas promised to marry me, only to leave me standing alone because of her.
Today was supposed to be our day. But as I stood in the biting cold outside the restaurant, watching him carefully help Selena into his Maybach, the marriage application still tucked in my purse, I finally understood—that "someday" would never come.
"Let's reschedule the registration, okay?" he'd said without even looking at me.
I walked straight to HR and submitted my resignation. Then I accepted the offer from the Morinetti family—his sworn enemies.
As I boarded my flight to the West Coast, my phone exploded with messages.
"We agreed to go to City Hall today. Where are you?"
I glanced at the screen one last time, then powered it off.
"We're done."

My husband's childhood sweetheart lost her entry for the competition,
so he gave mine to her.
It was I who saved him all those years ago,
and that's why he married me.
But he turned his back on me right after our wedding.
I've been childhood sweetheart all these years.
But this time,
I suddenly feel like this marriage has lost all its meaning.
After handing in the transfer request I had prepared long ago to the factory director,
I rejected his offer to stay.
I can't bear to stay in this place for another day.
I want to go to New York,
start a new chapter in my life,
and let everything that happened before just drift away. all its meaning.
After handing in the transfer request I had prepared long ago to the factory director,
I rejected his offer to stay.
I can't bear to stay in this place for another day.
I want to go to New York,
start a new chapter in my life,
and let everything that happened before just drift away.

EXCERPT:

"Rayne stood looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her a pale green ballgown clung to her curves and left little to the imagination. Her jet-black curls are swept up and pinned to her head, leaving her neck exposed. Tonight was the night that most of the unmated wolves in all the North American packs would hopefully find their mates. She was sure all of them were just oozing with excitement.

She was not.

She didn’t want a mate. She didn’t need a mate...."

“...but the sudden scent of jasmine and vanilla hit her nose from somewhere close. That meant only one thing. Her mate was near..."


Rayne met her mate at the Moonlight Ball when she was eighteen, her mate that she never wanted to find, that she never wanted in her life. He showed up out of nowhere. His actions that night unknowingly set her free. She took the freedom he gave her, ran away, and never once looked back.

Now five years later he shows back up in her life after rejecting her five years ago, demanding that she take up her rightful place by his side. He walked away from her after calling her weak. No way was she going to just let him back into her life as if he belonged there. Rayne never wanted a mate, would he being here now change that? Her body and soul beg for him to claim her, yet her heart belongs to another.

Can her mate convince her to give him a chance? Will her lover convince her to stay with him? The Moon Goddess paired her with someone not of her choice, all Rayne has ever wanted was the chance to choose for herself. Who will win? Rayne or the fate that the moon set for her?

For mature readers 18+
Warning for abusive past trauma
Her Returned Mate is Book 1 in the Gathering Shadows Series. Book 2 His Redemption is also available for reading now on Anystories.

"Give birth to my child, then get out."

With those words, Sean’s kiss fell brutally, ripping Susan’s nightgown open.

His fingers pressed against her clitoris. Sean flipped her over, pinning her under him. His swollen, turgid member quickly found her secret path. He thrust in violently.

Susan broke into a cold sweat. Sean nipped her ear. "Does it feel good? Is this what you like? I’ll make you pregnant, but you can’t stay by my side—this position is reserved for Victoria."

——

Years ago, Susan saved Sean and earned the chance to marry him. But she was damaged in that accident and couldn't conceive. She took countless hormone injections, losing her figure and becoming ugly. Finally, she could get pregnant, only to catch Sean cheating with the young, hot Victoria.

"In that case," Susan said, "let’s divorce."

Susan was bloated and had been a housewife for three years with no skills. Yet, she chose to divorce, even though she couldn't take her own child with her...

Elena was born to lead, but her father strips her of her birthright and gives it to her younger brother. Desperate to get back at her father, she does the unthinkable: she sleeps with her father's greatest enemy, Alpha Axton.

But Axton is more than just a rival, he's her fated mate. And he's been searching for her not for love, but for revenge and a chance to destroy her father's pack. The next morning, Elena rejects him, walking away before he can trap her in his ruthless schemes.

But Axton does not take rejection lightly, and his retaliation is brutal: a leaked video, a ruined reputation, and a family that turns their backs on her drive her to flee the city in disgrace.

But when Elena disappears, she takes something Alpha Axton never planned to lose - his sons. Now, he'll stop at nothing to get them back. He wants his heirs, he wants his mate, and Elena will learn that no one runs from the Alpha.

I was supposed to hate him. Instead, he stole everything: my freedom, my breath, my heart.

When Yara’s life collides with Rafael’s, it’s not by chance... it’s by force. Powerful, dangerously handsome, and untouchable in his tailored black suit, Rafael is the kind of man whispered about in fear. He’s ruthless. Cold. A man built on secrets and sins. The last person Yara should ever want.

But hatred is fragile when desire cuts deeper. Rafael grips more than just her wrist.. he grips her every thought, every heartbeat, pulling her into a storm she cannot escape. The closer she gets, the more his darkness feels like home… and the more dangerous it becomes to stay.

Every touch is a risk. Every look, a temptation. And when the lies between them shatter, Yara must decide if surrendering to the man she was supposed to hate will destroy her or set her free.

Stolen By the Man I Was Supposed to Hate is a dark romance thriller full of obsession, secrets, and a forbidden love that burns hotter than revenge.

Adalina lives with her very protective older brother Zarakai and his four best friends, they helped raise her after their parents died. Now she is eighteen and she doesn't know how to turn her feelings off. After being rejected by Austin, she turned to Jace who loves her more than he should considering the age gap. Now Austin is back in town and Jace doesn't like sharing. Adalina wants Jace and Austin. Maybe even Tyler and Spencer too. Will the four men learn to share her, or will she end up heartbroken?

Five years ago, Elena overheard the ambiguous whispers between her husband Arthur and his first love. In that split second, all her love for him crumbled to dust. She left the country with her pregnant belly, vowing never to have any connection with this man again.​
Five years later, Elena returns to her home country with her twins Liam and Luna—now a world-renowned top doctor. Unexpectedly, she finds herself entangled with Arthur once more. His eyes reddening with emotion, he grabs her abruptly and pleads, "Elena, I was truly wrong. This time, I will never let you get hurt again."

What if waking up as a Greek princess meant becoming a sacrifice to the most brutal god?

Jill Adelaide, an Oscar-nominated actress, never believed in fate—until she woke up in the body of Portia, the most beautiful princess of Sparta.

Her new life comes with a death sentence: she is betrothed to Ares, the God of War. To the world, he is a bloodthirsty monster. To her, he is infuriatingly handsome, possessive, and impossibly tempting.

But Ares is hiding secrets behind his piercing gaze. A mysterious prophecy binds them, and a hidden rebellion threatens to tear Olympus apart. As Jill navigates a world of demigods, monsters, and divine treachery, she must decide if she's merely a pawn in the gods' games—or the one woman who can tame the heart of the God of War.

He craves her soul. She needs his trust. But in a world where gods never fall in love, falling for Ares might be the deadliest risk of all...

It was funny how being betrayed could change a soul.

They were orphans. They grew up together. They survived together. They killed the tyrant Alpha together.

But when the time came for him to propose his love for her and make her his Luna, all she received was a stab to her stomach.

He betrayed her for another. For the late tyrant’s daughter.

He buried her and thought that she had died. But just like how fate had played a trick on her, it also played a trick on him.

She survived, but was stuck in the den of a ruthless Lycan King, after a mate pull, which was stronger than anyone had ever felt, pulled them together by force.

{She is Demira, and welcome to her story}
…
This book is a dark werewolf romance story that is filled with pure chaotic drama and a little bit of tension and suspense.

So, add to your libraries, because you are in for a ride that will be stuck in your mind for a really long time.

"I married you only to destroy you."

That was the only reason FBI agent Sophia Carter accepted a new identity as Evelyn Russo and married Lorenzo Moretti, the most dangerous mafia boss in Italy.

Her mission was to infiltrate, gather evidence, drag Lorenzo to prison, and save the children and women that Lorenzo Moretti had kidnapped for trafficking.

But life as a Don's wife was never as simple as she had imagined. Behind the luxurious mansion, the armed men, and the secrets of the Moretti family, Sophia found herself trapped in a game she did not understand.
The closer she got to Lorenzo, the harder it became to distinguish lies from reality.
But one thing never changed. If her identity as an FBI agent was exposed, then at that very moment, she would die at her own husband's hands.

When they threw me overboard, they thought a man with a broken leg couldn't possibly come back alive. When the floodwaters engulfed the world, turning land into a graveyard, I found a forgotten submarine in the deep sea. From underwater, I built my empire step by step . Not by pity, not by luck. By the time the survivors of this sea finally realized what lay beneath the surface, I no longer needed to hide. They called me the Deep Sea Ghost. I didn't care what they called me. I knew only one thing—from this day forward, this sea was mine to rule.

In my last life, the heatwave collapse began with me turning an abandoned warehouse into a safe zone. I stocked it, fortified it, and brought my girlfriend inside. That same night, she slid the bolts open from within and let an armed crew storm the place. They threw me out to die.

I survived the heat, only to learn too late that it was just the warning. The real purge came next, when brutal cold hit overnight and froze me to death in the snow.

Then I opened my eyes and found myself back one month before disaster.

While everyone else rushed to buy water and fans, I was the only one who knew the heat was just the beginning. The deep freeze was what would really wipe people out.

This time, I explained nothing. I poured everything I had into diesel, insulation, winter stoves, generators, and turned that warehouse into a fortress built for the cold.

She came again, just like before. This time, I never let her through the door. So she ran straight to the armed gang and had them surround my warehouse for three full days.

She thought trapping me inside meant she’d already won.

What she didn’t know was that in just a few more days, the freeze would arrive.

And the people outside had no fuel, no winter gear, no way to stay warm.

They weren’t waiting for me to break.

They were waiting for their own deaths.

As a wolf princess, I gave up my beast core, my dignity, and three years of life for my mate’s throne. I walked willingly into the lion clan’s darkest kennel camp, enduring beastly torture and dog-like degradation. I survived on rot and poison, clinging to false hope. Until I returned and learned the bitter truth: my wolf mate destroyed me with his own hands. The war was fake, and my hell was his deliberate choice.

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

On the day the apocalyptic flood swallowed the city, I died on a fractured overpass.

The man who crushed my fingers under his boot was my brother-in-law, the very man I had sacrificed everything to support. And standing safely out of reach, watching coldly as the muddy torrent swallowed me whole, was my supposedly sweet and devoted fiancée. In her arms, she fiercely clutched her "son"—who was hoarding the last of my survival rations.

In the very last second of my life, she nestled into the arms of her ex-boyfriend and left me with a single, contemptuous sneer: "Let's go. Forget about this useless trash."

It turned out that working my fingers to the bone and emptying my life savings had all been a pathetic joke—a long con orchestrated by a pack of bloodsucking parasites.

But when I opened my eyes again, I had returned to exactly one year before the apocalypse began.

My fiancée was standing there, holding a cup of hot coffee and sweetly begging me to invest another million into her brother's business.

I just smiled, gently pushed her hand away, and turned around to liquidate every single asset to my name. With that money, I secretly constructed a state-of-the-art, deep-sea underground fortress.

Later, when the monstrous floodwaters inevitably tore the city apart, they stood on the balcony of their doomed mansion, desperately falling to their knees and begging my icebreaker for salvation.

Sitting inside my perfectly secure command cabin, I took a leisurely sip of hot coffee and softly gave the order:

"Open fire. Don't let this trash dirty my deck."

Four years ago, I left my boyfriend when he had nothing.

Now, he's a billionaire. And he's forcing me to marry him—just for revenge.

Every day it's a different girl. Now there's a pregnant influencer he flaunts in my face, destroying what's left of my dignity.

"Kneel and beg her, and I'll give you money." He holds another woman and smirks at me.

I don't cry. I don't scream. I just swallow the blood rising in my throat.

He doesn't know my brain tumor is terminal. I have thirty days left.

I've already signed the organ donation papers. I just want to die in peace.

I stopped loving him a long time ago.

I bought a handsome, aloof incubus from a clearance sale online to be my live-in maid.
For a week, he was perfect. Then he started fainting, his skin burning with a fever no amount of rest could fix. Panicked that I’d somehow overworked my best employee, I called the 24/7 Aphrodisiac (companyI bought him from) helpline.

Ma’am, our incubus models have a demonic lineage and you have got a high-output model. They have near-infinite stamina. They don't get 'feverish' from vacuuming. But... why did you have him doing 'housework'?"
"Because the house was dirty?"
The agent suddenly chuckled. "Ah, I see. Everyone has their own fantasies and kinks. Roleplay is very popular. But tell me, according to the log, when was the last time Xanthos received physical intimacy?"
"Huh?"
"Physical intimacy," the agent repeated. "Love, spoiling, skin-to-skin contact. If a male incubus doesn't get intimacy, his internal energy stagnates. They fall sick. Male models are much higher maintenance than females; they need constant affection to stay healthy."
My blood ran cold. "Affection? I bought him to mop the floors!"
"Ma'am," the agent's voice dropped. "You are on Aphrodisiac. We are the world's leading provider of supernatural escorts. Did you... did you not read the site description?"

Turns out, I hadn’t bought a demonic domestic servant.
I’d accidentally purchased a high-maintenance supernatural escort.
And apparently, if I didn’t start showing my “maid” some affection soon, he would die and I would be jailed for abusing my maid.

Three years ago, on their way to attend my graduation art exhibition, the cruise ship carrying my fiancé and my family caught fire.

Over the past three years, I downed sleeping pills countless times, desperately wanting to follow them into the afterlife. Every single time, my adopted sister, Serena, saved me, crying hysterically as she shoved her fingers down my throat to make me throw up.

"They are already gone! Harper, you can't keep living in the past. You have to live on for their sake!"

After fainting from yet another high fever and being rushed to the hospital, I was diagnosed with terminal leukemia.

The doctor said I had a month left, at most.

I refused their advice to find a bone marrow match. Clutching my family's belongings, I decided to go back to our old estate in the suburbs for one last look.

While I was walking in a daze, a little boy running wildly crashed hard into my legs.

A male voice that had haunted my dreams for years rang out from behind me. "Alistair, if you keep running off, what will you do if Mommy and Daddy don't want you anymore?"

In an instant, it felt like I had been plunged into freezing water. I froze in place.

My husband's foster sister, Delilah, gets poisoned and ends up paralyzed. My husband, Grayson, the Don of this whole crime family, doesn't even bother checking the security cameras. He just throws me, two months pregnant, into the cistern where they punish traitors.

"Tessa, hand over the antidote, or die."

I kneel in the freezing swamp water and beg him. I didn't poison her.

He answers with a kick to the stomach.

For three straight days, I suffer down there. Leeches tear into my skin. My baby turns into a pool of black blood and dissolves into the filthy water. By the end, my vocal cords tear to shreds, my body goes cold, and I stop breathing.

His men get on their knees and beg him to spare me. He just sneers.

"That woman's always been good at playing the victim. No food, no medicine. Let her keep soaking."

Three days later, he finally walks into the cistern, and it's only to give me an ultimatum.

"Crawl out and apologize to Delilah on your knees. Otherwise I'll strip you of your title and sell you off to a trafficking ring. You'll wish you were dead."

No one answers him.

He has no idea. I already am.

At the scene of the car accident, my parents frantically scooped up my sister—who only had a scraped knee—then kicked me aside as I lay there dying.
"Don't be a burden to your sister. Just wait by the roadside and croak!"
They drove off without a second thought. In that moment, my heart turned to stone.
What they didn't know was that I didn't die. Instead, I got adopted by a top-tier professor and became a math prodigy worth tens of millions.
Two years later, when my birth parents went bankrupt and got on their knees begging me for a handout, I smiled coldly and played the recording of their attempted murder...

My mate, Rhys, brought his dead brother's pregnant widow into our house.
He swore up and down I'd never have to lift a finger for her.
The next morning he stood by the door with a packed bag and a grin.
"Babe. Big news. The pack called me up. Border post out east, two years. I ship out tonight."
He looked at me like he was waiting for me to promise I'd take good care of his brother's widow.
So I pulled my own bag out of the closet, right there in front of him and the woman in the back room.
"Funny. The alliance called me up too. Medic rotation. Two years."
"We can leave together. Lock up on the way out. Colette can rest easy with the whole house to herself."

At sixteen, I took a fatal blow for him. As my wolf soul shattered, he swore with blood-red eyes: "When I become Alpha, I will make you my Luna."
But two years later, when he led the pack to migrate to new territory, he told the butler before departure: "Her broken wolf soul will only drag the group down."
With my bundle, I slipped out. Fate played a cruel joke: I boarded the wrong carriage, replacing a weeping bride, and was delivered to the wedding chamber of Alaric Argent, Alpha of the Sterling Pack.
The tall, steady figure before me sparked an odd sense of calm. The fog of memory wouldn’t let me be sure. Was this mistaken arrival a new beginning… or the continuation of an old shadow?

1

He was reborn back to the day his wife Lydia was sacrificed to the demon.

The entire demon race was laughing at me, her useless husband who was about to be thrown into the cursed land, while she, dressed in a pure white robe, rose step by step on my bones and blood, becoming the most beloved saintess of the demons.

She thought I would rot in the ashes, but little did she know that I had swallowed a World Tree seed that had been dormant for ten thousand years in my death.

An enslaved old miner, a blind but gentle apothecary, a desperate mermaid leader... I led eighteen "defective products" chewed up by the abyss, riding the wildly growing tide of life, and forcefully smashed through the demon's royal city!

When the immortal demon king was drained dry by the World Tree and knelt on the ground begging for mercy like a wild dog, my noble wife smiled and raised the sharp obsidian.

"What are demons? This throne belongs only to me."

This is a story of extreme betrayal and violent redemption. When life permeates the demon realm, all the high and mighty evils will turn into dust at the bottom of the trees!

Caroline Mercer once believed kindness could be proven by sacrifice. She took in two orphaned children, gave them schools, doctors, tutors, rooms beside her daughter's nursery, and a path into the Mercer name.

Years later, those children returned as witnesses against her. Sloane Vale smiled for the cameras while calling Caroline a monster. Nolan Vale handed federal investigators a beautiful stack of forged evidence. Caroline's husband was broken, her company was seized, and her only daughter, Evelyn, died after being traded into a marriage meant to protect everyone else's reputation.

Then Caroline opened her eyes on the morning the Vale children first arrived at her door.

This time, she would feed them. She would house them. She would educate them. She would keep every receipt, every doctor's report, every legal notice.

But she would never again give strangers the keys to her child's future.

I’m the only person on Earth with a clinically proven antibody capable of neutralizing this rare deadly virus.
I caught the virus when I was six. Its mortality rate was staggeringly high, and everyone thought I’d never pull through. Against all odds, I recovered entirely on my own. By some strange twist of biology, my body made the world’s sole antibody that could fight this virus off.
Once I turned eighteen, I signed up to donate my serum as a volunteer.
For twenty years straight, rain or shine, I showed up to donate free of charge—107 separate donations in total. Each time, I pulled a gravely ill patient back from death’s brink.
I’m no saint living to save the whole world. Every last donation was done for my mother.
Back when I was six, my father’s infidelity drove my mother to take her own life. What happened was cruel beyond measure, completely unforgivable.
A fortune-teller once told me my mom’s lingering resentment ran far too deep. To free her trapped, wandering soul for good, a blood relative of hers had to finish exactly 108 acts of good deeds.
Twenty years in, only one deed remained. Just one more, and my mother’s spirit could finally rest in peace.
But when the hospital sent out an urgent emergency SOS this time around, I did something I’d never done in two decades.
I turned their request down flat.

Eight years ago, I was the heir to a powerful dynasty—the man set to inherit an empire.

On the way home from a business deal, our convoy was ambushed and I was taken. My fiancée arrived with the ransom, and the kidnappers gave her a choice: save one man. She saved my closest friend—and left me bleeding in the ruins.

They thought I was dead. They went on camera, announced my “tragic death,” took my company, split my legacy, and lived on my name for eight long years.

But I didn’t die. A gray-zone mercenary unit pulled me out of a pile of bodies. I changed my name and climbed from the bottom of their world—training, bleeding, killing, leading—until I became one of their commanders.

Today, my fiancée is marrying my best friend. The invitation arrived with my name on it. I board a first-class flight under a new identity and head straight for their wedding.

Halfway through the ceremony, the priest asks if anyone objects.

I stand up. “I object.”

I didn’t come back to give my blessing. I came back to collect.

I found my husband's vasectomy certificate while sorting medical bills. The procedure was done a year ago. But I was six months pregnant now.

I stared at the date on the paper and my hand just... stopped. I kept checking it again and again, but it was still the same. I was freaking out. I looked down at my bump showing through this baggy sweater, and my hands started shaking.

I got in my car and drove straight to my husband's private club. I needed answers about this, now.

At the board meeting, he voted to dilute my equity.

"This is business, Elena. Not personal."

Three years of hidden marriage. I thought we were partners. But in that moment, I finally understood—I was just his technical supplier on the road to success.

What Ryan didn't know: that Technology Contribution Agreement he signed three years ago contained one clause. 70% of NexTech's core algorithm IP belongs to me. Personally.

Product launch day. Two hundred investors watching. I took the microphone.

He thought I'd present the tech specs like always.

He was wrong.

Dante Ashford is my stepbrother, and the one person I should never have fallen in love with.

When I was ten, my parents died saving his family. The Ashfords took me in. He was good to me back then. Somewhere along the way, I fell for him.

When I was eighteen, he nearly died in an ambush. I donated blood, then a kidney to save him. I was unconscious for three days. When I woke up, Vivian Ross sat by his bed—and he believed she was his savior.

After that, he pushed me away. Vivian became his fiancée.

In my past life, Vivian's crimes brought disaster to our family. Dante got on his knees and begged me to take her punishment. I refused. She died anyway. Then he pretended to love me, planned our wedding—and on that day, his assistant announced to everyone: "This wedding was a lesson to show Miss Elena Hayes what it feels like to be abandoned by the whole world."

I jumped from the church balcony.

When I opened my eyes, I was back at that moment—him on his knees, begging.

This time, I said yes.

Dante, from now on, we're done.

I have a cursed gift—
I can hear the voices of antiques.
A blackened silver spoon screams.
A rusted pocket watch groans.
And at London’s most exclusive blind auction, when that so-called million-pound royal jewelry box encrusted with rubies and sapphires was rolled onto the stage, my mind went completely silent.
Those dozens of dazzling gemstones were all fake glass that could not speak.
Instead, from a brass compartment hidden in the very bottom of the box came an agonized roar:
“Get me out of here… now…”
I smiled.
Europe’s number-one appraiser?
Today I’d show him what it really meant to listen to all things.

A fire broke out at the fraternity party. I desperately pushed Mia, my brother's girlfriend, out of harm's way, only to get pinned down by a falling beam myself. My brother Liam chose to save Mia first, kicking away my oxygen mask as he left. Mia then locked the door, leaving me to burn alive.

Yet they thought I was throwing a tantrum and playing hide-and-seek. They called me "toxic" and "attention-seeking" on social media, even freezing my credit cards.

Betrayed and killed by the wolf king in my past life, I came back from hell. On the wedding day, I turned down his proposal without hesitation. I made a blood pact with his greatest enemy—the vampire king. Together, we avenged my child and family, and built a new future in the dark.

The day I died in a foreign country, my boyfriend was in the spotlight with another woman.

He's the man I built from nothing. Five years ago, I saved a broke orphan fresh out of college from the gutter. He said he wanted to be famous, wanted to make it to the top of the hockey world. In exchange, he became my boyfriend for five years.

I gave him the best coaching staff money could buy. Bought an entire hockey franchise and made him the centerpiece. Called in every favor I had to make him MVP.

But while he enjoyed everything I gave him, he refused to make our relationship public. Said it would "hurt his brand." He could make headlines with reporters and models, but nobody could know I existed.

He even said on national TV: "Those owners who just throw money around are pretty boring. Hockey is about skill, not money."

So why did he lose his mind when he found out I was dead?

My daughter begged me, tears in her eyes, to take her to gymnastics camp—just the two of us.

I thought it was her way of proving she loved me.

I was wrong.

In that hotel room in Toronto, I overheard my husband's voice—with another woman.

“Don't worry, Sophia will find a way to stay a few more days. I promised her that blue limited-edition leotard.”

“Her body now… after giving birth, it's ruined.”

In that moment, my world collapsed.

I thought I'd only been betrayed by my husband.
But the daughter I raised with everything I had—she was his accomplice.

The child I nurtured with my own hands kept clearing the path: so that woman could sleep in my bed, wear the lingerie I could no longer fit into, sneer in front of the mirror at every single mark my body earned from bringing life into this world.

I once believed that giving up my career would be enough to hold my family together.

But they joined hands to tell me: my sacrifice was never honored. It was a joke.

When a woman who has given everything to her family finally wakes up—

Her revenge will make every single one of them remember exactly what they did.

Jonathan’s way of loving was always paying in silence. After we broke up, he cleared my shopping cart, stocked up enough makeup remover to last me three years, trying his best to make up for it. But during those three years when I willingly waited for him to propose, he never said a word. Until one day, he found a small note I’d written in pencil three years ago in that wedding planning book: “It’s okay, I can wait.” He cried all night staring at that line, and the next day, he bought 17 copies of the same book. On the title page of each one, he wrote neatly: “Wait for me.” It turns out, the stupidest person takes three years just to learn to say “I love you.”

Forty-eight hours before my wedding, I was kidnapped and gang-raped, surviving by only a thread in the depths of despair.   When my mafia boss fiancé and my police detective best friend stood guard by my hospital bed with bloodshot eyes, I heard him suddenly switch to Navajo and ask her, "The death row inmates from the dark web—were they dealt with cleanly?"   My best friend chuckled, replying in the same language. "Don't worry. The guys who put their hands on Maya have been wiped out. Dead men tell no tales."   "Sacrificing Maya alone gave you the perfect excuse to wipe out the rival family and swallow the southern smuggling network, while earning me a high-level promotion. It was a damn good deal."   Amidst tearing, agonizing pain, it felt as if I had been plunged into an ice cliff.   They thought I could never understand this obscure tribal language, so they brazenly feasted on the spoils of victory built upon my very flesh and blood. But what they didn't know was that, to surprise my fiancé during our wedding vows... I had been secretly studying Navajo for an entire year.

I died from campus rumors and elite prejudice in my last life.
Reborn, I no longer choose to explain. I collect every timestamp, fingerprint and hidden deal.
I expose my traitorous boyfriend, fake weak rival, and the school’s biased protection of the privileged.
With ironclad proof, I overturned all injustice and let every hypocrite pay the price.

"Valerie, you've been working yourself to death. I booked you a flight to Switzerland—take Leo, go relax for a while." My husband Cedric set an Hermès scarf down on the table. "Early gift for our tenth anniversary."
I was thrilled, twirling in front of the mirror with the scarf, admiring how it looked.
That's when my son came around the corner, iPad in hand. "Mommy, a message just popped up. Daddy said he wants to give Seraphina a real family."
My mind just... blanked out.
I opened the message myself, and there it was—a whole year of secrets I never even knew existed.
So he wants to make things right with his old flame? Fine.
Then I get to take back everything I ever gave him.

Three years ago, billionaire Theodore Chambers handed Victoria Ellis divorce papers with cold eyes and colder words—all for the sake of his first love, Isabella Waters.
Victoria didn't cry. She didn't beg.
She simply signed her name, walked out of that golden cage, and disappeared from the world of the rich.
What the world didn't expect…
Was for the discarded ex-wife to rise from the ashes—not as a socialite, but as the world's most sought-after reconstructive mortician. Behind every high-profile crime scene and closed casket, she was the one restoring dignity to the dead—and building a name powerful enough to shake law enforcement and the elite alike.
Now, at a funeral of all places, their paths cross again.
She stands beside another man, radiant, untouchable.
He watches in disbelief—his ex-wife, no longer his.
"You handle corpses every day. Aren't you afraid of bad luck?" he growls, grabbing her wrist.
She smiles coldly.
"In my heart, the grass over your grave has already grown two meters tall."
But fate has one final card to play.
When Victoria finds Theodore lying in a pool of blood, clutching an old photo of her, everything unravels.
Was it too late after all?
Or is love just another body she's not willing to reconstruct?

I’m a retired special forces soldier.

Three months ago, my little brother vanished—and every lead went dead.

I tracked the trail to a private rehab clinic on a tropical island. On the surface, it’s wellness and recovery. Underneath, it’s an organ market.

Following the clinic led me to one person—her. She specializes in luring “donors” through the front door.

To avenge my brother, I got close on purpose and let her become my girlfriend.

She thought I was easy money, a body delivered to her table, and she brought me into that clinic herself.

She didn’t know I’d been waiting for this moment for three months.

On the operating table, the needle hovered three centimeters from my skin.

She thought I was finished.

She didn’t know these hands have held a gun—and snapped more than a few necks.

In my past life, my brother-in-law predicted the coming of an extreme cold apocalypse and claimed he would awaken a spatial ability on the day it arrived.
I didn't believe him, but under pressure from my wife's family, I purchased supplies anyway. Then the frozen apocalypse actually came.
I thought we'd survive together as a family, but my brother-in-law had bragged about his spatial ability and massive supplies before awakening. When his ability manifested, the space was pitifully small, and everyone he'd told came to rob us.
When food ran out, my wife's family turned on me, killing and eating me.
Reborn, I've decided to take revenge on my wife's entire family. And it all starts with secretly building my own shelter.

On the seventh wedding anniversary, I woke up in the lounge and found a big word "BITCH" sprayed with red paint on my chest.
The culprit, holding a spray-paint can, had a naive-looking smile on her face and said, "I'm doing you a favor. Your white outfit's way too boring."
I was just about to take action when my husband rushed in to protect her, frowning and scolding me: "She's just a little girl; she doesn't know any better. Do you have to be so petty?"
At this moment, looking at the man in front of me who had risen because of my family's influence, I suddenly laughed.
He probably forgot who had given him this overwhelming wealth.
I unscrewed the red-tipped thick paint pen and walked step by step towards the trembling girl.
"Your face is boring, too. Let me do you a favor."
As for my husband?
I'll make him know that without me, he's worse than a dog.

Ten years ago, on the day my family was destroyed, Ezra Ashford promised to marry me.
Ten years passed. He refused to honor that promise, and he refused to mark me. The feral instincts in my blood were growing wilder by the day, pushing me to the brink of madness—yet he turned around, announced his engagement to Ophelia, the beloved daughter of the Silvermane Pack, and casually sold me off to Rhysand, a scarred, half-burned monster who cleaned corpses for a living.
On his wedding night, Ezra actually abandoned Ophelia, kicking down my door in his tailored tuxedo.
Only to freeze in his tracks.
I sat naked on the edge of the bed. Rhysand, the supposedly lowly corpse cleaner, had me wrapped in his arms. The bite mark on the back of my neck was still bleeding.