3272 Book(s) Related to revenge on my ex husband novel

In my past life, they drained my blood, kicked me off the rooftop, and said, "Waste doesn't deserve to live."

Reborn into the apocalypse, I opened my palm, and seven beams of primal energy pierced the sky. The woman who cried out "the best in the world" to me just ten minutes ago couldn't even produce a spark now. The brother who wore the boots I sewed and called me trash was being chased and bitten by mutants like a stray dog, his leg broken.

They came to me with memories of their past lives, demanding, "Why did you steal our special abilities?"

In front of thousands of people, I unleashed a net of lightning, scorching those who came to block my way. They knelt in the mud, their heads bleeding from kowtowing; Elena covered her mouth, which had been slapped clean, and David trembled on his single leg, leaning on a rusty steel pipe—yet they couldn't even climb over the iron thorns surrounding my tower.

Later, they rotted into a pile of mud in the arena and among the hordes of corpses, and I didn't even look back.

Until a horde of millions of zombies besieged the city, I went out alone with my sword and shattered the zombie king with a single strike.

The entire ruins knelt down.

They thought I had stolen the light.
No. I was just a fire that burned away what should have been garbage.

Woke up with the power to command endless zombies. I guarded the fortress for my sister, only to find her tortured, drained of blood, and used as live bait. A fake hologram fooled me for two years. Now I unleash my million undead army to burn all traitors to ashes.

In my previous life, I was cruelly exploited by my wicked stepmother.
Not only was I drained of my military discharge money, but I was also driven into a subterranean warehouse that could collapse at any moment.
In darkness and despair, I was frozen to death by a cold wave that dropped surface temperatures to minus 60 degrees.
The moment I opened my eyes again, I had reincarnated back to three days before the outbreak of the cataclysm!
Staring at my stepmother's face, which was filled with greed and harshness, I wasted no words, threw on my heavy coat, and marched straight toward the underground warehouse.
For I knew that with sufficient supplies and energy, this nuclear-grade subterranean warehouse would become the ark of the apocalypse!

"You good-for-nothing should get out and save your food rations. I'll use your truckload of supplies for you!"

The man-eating scarlet spores swept through the town. My good brother locked the security door tightly and locked me in the corridor filled with blood mist.

He stared intently at me through the peephole, waiting to see the horrific sight of my internal organs being drained by the fungus.

But a second before I was devoured by the spores, I hid in my personal space and with a single thought drained the last drop of water and every grain of rice from the room.

Three days later, in this impregnable "vacuum tomb".

When he was so thirsty that he swallowed blood, and knelt on the ground desperately pounding on the door.

I kicked the door open, tied him up with nylon rope, and hung him upside down in the blood-red storm outside the window.

I thought I'd signed up for an immersive dating show.

Turns out it was a 99.9% death rate, globally livestreamed horror game.

And me? Half-blind without my contacts, desperate to go viral, I somehow talk my way through a death game like it's a romance.

I mistook blood for ketchup, human eyeballs for sashimi, a murderous child ghost for a kid who just needed some love.

Worst part? I fell for the guy running the place, the one who could kill you without blinking, and tried to get his number within the hour.

My teammate hissed at me, shaking. "You wanna die, fine, just don't take us with you!"

I just waved him off. It's a dating show. Relax.

For five years, my crime boss husband made me take off my wedding ring nine times—all for his precious damsel in distress.

When we first married, he promised me: "From now on, you're my queen, the queen of New Orleans."

But whenever Brianna came crying for help, he'd change his tune: "Mr. Parker saved my life, Claire. I owe his family everything."

And like a fool, I believed him eight times.

Eight times I watched from the shadows as he took another woman to our favorite restaurants.

Eight times I explained to the crew that our "separation" was just giving each other space.

Eight times I watched her move into my bedroom, use my dishes, sleep in my bed.

All for a man who kept making me slip off my ring, then slide it back on, over and over again.

Until the ninth time, when he said he needed to provide sperm for her fertility treatment, and I offered to leave.

He still thinks this is just another temporary break, expecting me to come crawling back in a month like always.

He'll never know I've already booked my ticket out of here.

I was three months pregnant when I found out my husband had been cheating with the cousin I had kindly taken in.

My son said he wanted her to be his mom, then shoved me down the stairs and caused me to miscarry.

The day I lost the baby, my husband sat beside my bed. His voice was gentle, soft enough to lull someone to sleep.

“Relax,” he said. “You’ll forget all this pain.”

I closed my eyes and let him plant layer after layer of hypnotic commands in my ear.

“When you wake up, you’ll be an obedient wife.”

Now I watch them living happily ever after as a family of three.

They think I’m nothing but an empty shell.

They have no idea that I’ve already posted this plea for help online:

[HELP] My cousin is wearing my sexy nightgown to seduce my husband, I caught them cheating, and my son calls her “Mom.” But I just feel numb. What am I supposed to do?

In my previous life, on the very day of our marking ceremony, my Alpha fiancé met his fated mate at the banquet.
He didn’t break off our engagement. Instead, he chose silence and completed the ceremony with me. He chose to trap me with a twenty-year mate bond.
For twenty years, I fought wars for the Pack, bore him an heir, and ruled the main hall alone as Luna.
Meanwhile, in another Pack’s territory, he spent his entire life with that woman.
Before I died, he told me he was sorry.
But he also blamed me—saying that if I hadn’t insisted on taking the Luna seat, he could have left more completely.
Only then did I realize something cruel. Not only was I never the one he loved, I was also the obstacle to his freedom.
When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of the marking ceremony.
This time, the mate bond had not yet formed, and the mate mark had not yet been sealed.
Whether he would abandon me for his fated mate no longer mattered.
Because this time—
I would never step aside for any Alpha again.

Introduction: Three years ago, to pay for my sister's medical treatment, I willingly took on the role of a servant to the wealthy heiress Daisy, becoming a smuggling criminal and struggling to survive amidst humiliation. Daisy's family, with their cruel hearts, took advantage of the impending apocalyptic cold wave to murder both my sister and me. Reborn, I am determined to rewrite our fate. When hunters who revel in harming unarmed civilians besiege our shelter, I raise my gun—in this apocalyptic cold wave, anyone who dares to harm my sister will die!

To fulfill a dying comrade's final request, I spent twelve years living in the shadows to protect his daughter. I took bullets for her, laundered her black-market assets, and eventually handed over my entire stake in the security empire. In her eyes, I am her father’s murderer; in mine, she is a mission—the only flicker of light left in my life. Until that fateful banquet, when she personally shoved me into the sights of mercenaries. Watching my blood bloom across her dress, she hooked her arm around my nemesis and ordered coldly, "Clean it up." In that moment, twelve years of devotion collapsed, and a heart that beat only for her finally learned to freeze. This time, I’ve decided to personally destroy the monster I raised.

Three years since I married into the Hawthorne family, I had already lost two children.
And the one who decided whether my babies lived or died wasn't a doctor—it was a potted plant in the manor's living room: the Crimson Orchid.
In this family, if the petals withered and reeked after drinking the pregnancy blood, it was an unbreakable rule: the child had to go.
The first two times, all I could do was lose my children in despair under the anesthetic mask at some underground clinic.
To save my third pregnancy, I secretly went to a top medical center out of state for an amniocentesis.
The diagnosis, there in black and white, proved it: my baby was perfectly healthy and carried the purest family bloodline.
I thought I was safe this time. But when my finger blood dripped into the black soil again, the orchid once more oozed foul-smelling black water.
My in-laws crushed my medical report underfoot without mercy and had their people drag me toward the operating table.
I couldn't understand it: the scientific evidence clearly confirmed my child was healthy and pure-blooded.
Why did they insist on trusting a mutated, stinking flower and killing their own grandchildren over and over again?

I once loved Ryan deeply and helped him become the Alpha, only to be rewarded with chains in a dungeon and the mocking laughter of him and his mistress.

Fate gave me a second chance—I woke up reborn on the morning of the mate selection ceremony. There he was, still ordering me around in front of everyone, expecting me to play the obedient servant.

Everyone tried to convince me that Ryan, the man who killed me, is the "right choice."

Yet I chose Connor—the man feared by the entire clan, the one who will bring ruin to the clan for the sake of his one true love.

This time, I refuse to be the stepping stone on Ryan's climb to power.

I'm going to make everyone see who truly holds the reins.

A year ago, my ex abandoned me when I was broke and buried in debt, choosing the Russo family heiress instead.

On the day of his engagement party, he sent me a vicious text: "Wear a wedding dress to Plaza Hotel. Changed my mind. You're marrying me."

I showed up in white.

Luca and his crew waited at the entrance, ready to watch me humiliate myself.

He thought this was my degradation.

But what he didn't know was—I was getting married.

Just not to him.

To Dante Valentino—the most dangerous man in this godforsaken city.

My daughter has passed away, and my ex-husband abandoned us.

In my darkest hour, my first love, Lysander, reappeared; he covered the medical expenses, married me, and provided me with a home.

For five years, I believed I was the luckiest woman in the world.

Until that fateful day, four months into my pregnancy, when I overheard his conversation with a friend—

“To save Celeste, I thought... who knew it would lead to the death of Seraphina’s daughter?”

“As for Seraphina, she is a good wife, but alas... I do not love her.”

It turned out that my daughter’s death was no accident.

It was revealed that these five years of marriage were merely his quest for atonement.

The one he had always truly loved was Celeste—my ex-husband’s current wife.

As I lay on the operating table, I made a decision—

Since he had taken my daughter’s kidney, I would seize everything from him.

Including what he believed he would never lose: me.

To help his life-saving benefactor, he personally pressed a pregnant me on the operating table to draw bone marrow.
I cried and begged him, "James, I'm pregnant. It's your child. Don't do this to me..."
But he had a look of disgust in his eyes. "Elizabeth, you'd lie about something like that just to get out of helping Mandy?"
Until there was a river of blood in the operating room and that unformed child turned into a pool of bloody water, he finally panicked.
Later, when he knew that the person who saved him in the fire ten years ago was actually me, he held my ashes and knelt outside the operating room for a full three days.

At the engagement party, Julian tore up our agreement on the spot, selling me for a single dollar to Callum, a man rumored to be a bloodthirsty, crippled psychopath.

Our mutual friend frowned.

"Are you out of your mind? Sylvia stayed by your side through your hardest three years, and you're really going to send her off to be tortured by a freak like Callum?"

Julian casually swirled the whiskey in his glass.

"It's just a little punishment. Rosie is carrying my child and needs a title, but Sylvia is too damn proud. Not only did she refuse to step down, but she also upset Rosie and affected her pregnancy."

"Callum is a twisted cripple. Give it three hours, and she'll break down completely. By then, she'll obediently accept Rosie's existence and even willingly stay as my hidden mistress."

The friend looked at my retreating back and couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you afraid you'll push her too far, that she'd rather stay with that psycho than come back to you?"

Julian let out a light scoff.

"Absolutely impossible. She loves me so much she'd give her life for me. Even if she takes a trip to hell, she'll only beg me to be her savior."

I picked up that one-dollar coin from the floor, without a single tear or tantrum.

Later, Julian broke into Callum's estate like a madman, begging me to go back with him.

But the disabled man from the rumors simply stood up, pulled me securely behind him, and sneered, "My wife. Is she someone you are even fit to touch?"

My brother Miles blames me for our parents' deaths.
So he chose to adopt the deaf Vivian instead of keeping me.
Later, I met Sullivan.
He gave me a grand confession. He chose me, resolutely.
He also said I hired someone to assault Vivian—that I didn't deserve sympathy.
Five years after being cast out of my family, a dismembered female body was found inside a carnival mascot costume.
Miles, now a police officer, led the investigation. Sullivan, now a forensic pathologist, performed the autopsy.
They saw the bloodstained hearing aid and immediately called Vivian.
"I'm fine. I just saw the news—some big case. Should we tell Sis to be careful too? What if something happens to her?"
They refused, almost in unison.
"The moment she killed our parents, she stopped being my sister."
"She was jealous of you. She did too many terrible things. If she's dead, she had it coming."
My soul hovered in the air, watching them. I laughed until I cried.
But when they found out the victim was me—
Why did they both go mad?

"Help! Somebody help me! Julian is trying to kill my baby!" I scream at the top of my lungs, bursting into my gender reveal party.

Just minutes ago, Julian was my perfect, doting husband. Then he opens my unborn baby's genetic screening report. The unadulterated ferocity and revulsion simmering in his eyes makes my entire body shake. He grips my arm, demanding I terminate the pregnancy.

I already died once because of that piece of paper. In my past life, they dragged me to a freezing lab, pumped me full of drugs, and murdered my child before locking me in an asylum.

This time, I hide behind the guests. But my parents storm in. After seeing the report, instead of saving me, Dad kicks me squarely in the stomach.

"You shameless little whore," he spits.

They are about to drag me out the back door when two police officers step through the glass doors. The cop hands me the confiscated report.

I look down at the printed words... and finally understand.

My brother was jealous after I won a $50 million lottery jackpot, so he tricked me into believing an extreme ice-age apocalypse was coming.
Because I trusted him, I spent every last dollar my parents and I had—fortifying the house and stockpiling supplies.
Two weeks later, he told me that there was no coming apocalypse. It had all been a lie.
Just when I was drowning in despair, hail started falling in the middle of summer.
The deep freeze apocalypse had really begun.

On my wedding day, my mother walked in and took my gown off the rack. Then she handed it to Coralie — the sister my parents adopted, the one I've given half my magic to every month for five years.
The High Priest says my stars are cursed. So Coralie will marry Roland in my place. My fiancé. The man I nearly died healing.
My father tells me to think of the bigger picture. Roland won't even look at me. Not one of them looks back as they leave me alone in that room.
They think I'll stand here and take it, like I always have.
They don't know about the black whistle in my sleeve — the one a dying man pressed into my hand at the edge of the Abyss. Blow it, he said, and I'll come for you.
I've been good for too long.
I'm done.

“Why is Elara dying on my stream?”

Sienna Vale laughed in front of half a million viewers while my heroine glitched on-screen, wearing the ring I designed and speaking the line I wrote.

Caleb didn’t ask if I was okay. He shoved the emergency laptop toward me and said, “Fix it before the investors panic.”

So I opened the live build.

But instead of saving his launch, I patched one line into the game credits:

Created by Maya Reed.

My Alpha husband made me miscarry seven times—using our children to save his Omega first love.

Each so-called fertility tonic left me permanently infertile.

I once thought he might love me, even just a little—until the pack uncovered photos of his Omega, from girlhood to now.

Even when I caught them together, all I got… was abuse. I need a revenge, to all of you.

Halfway through my wedding, just as I was about to vow eternal love to my childhood sweetheart, Alpha Derick, the doors swung open, and his beta—Rebecca Guzman—strode in.
Pregnant.
The hall fell silent, the weight of her presence pressing down on everyone.
Derick, my fated mate—the boy I had cherished since we were kids—barely reacted. Instead, he stepped toward her, steadying her with a tenderness that should have been reserved for me. It was as if she were the one in the white dress, as if this were her moment.
Then, without the slightest hint of remorse, he declared, “I know I can’t formally marry Beta Rebecca, but I promised her a wedding. Our pup deserves a whole family.”
His next words were like ice in my veins. “From this day forward, she will also be my Luna. You must treat the pup in her belly as if it were your own.”
A shiver ran through me, sharp and unforgiving.

Dad was in critical condition and had just been wheeled into the operating room.
My husband—also Dad’s attending surgeon—was nowhere to be found.
I stood in the corridor in my pajamas until past midnight, hands shaking as I kept calling Jason.
When the call finally connected, a sweet, girlish voice spilled through the speaker:
"I’m watching the Eiffel Tower lights with Jason!"
A male voice followed, impatient and familiar—Jason’s:
"Is it her again? Ava, tell her to stop calling. The lights are about to go out. Can she stop making a scene?"
A chill sliced through me. Before I could speak, the line went dead.

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.

Eleanor believed Carl, Alpha of the Stormfang Pack, was her forever—until she's falsely accused of plagiarism at the design finals by his first love, Katherine. Carl chooses Katherine without hesitation, throwing Eleanor aside and allowing his ex to destroy her.
After demanding a divorce, Eleanor is left with nothing but debt and despair—until she rescues an injured, amnesiac werewolf named Martin. Everything changes when this mysterious stranger enters her life.

Ethan Lawrence, heir to the Ashclaw Pack, lost everything after a brutal attack—until Eleanor saved his life. Living as "Martin," he fell for the woman who gave him a home despite having nothing.
When his memory returns, Ethan reveals his true identity and systematically destroys everyone who hurt her. But as Carl realizes what he's lost and a mysterious Alpha from the Obsidianfang Pack circles closer, Ethan must prove he's not just Eleanor's savior—he's the mate she deserves.

Can a broken Luna learn to trust again, or will the Alphas surrounding her destroy the fragile life she's rebuilding?

The first time they met, Jace looked her in the eye and said, "I don't sleep with virgins. Too much trouble. No satisfaction."
The second time, desire betrayed his rules. "Walk away, Nerissa. Or I'll stop pretending I can resist you."
The 99th time, everything changed. "I don't want to be your lover anymore. I want to be your husband."

To save her father's life, Nerissa offered the only thing she had left — her first night. The buyer? Dr. Jace Whitmore. Cold, powerful, and dangerously untouchable.

For Nerissa, it was supposed to end when the debt was paid.
For Jace, it was just lust. He thought once he tired of Nerissa's body, letting her go would be easy.
But neither of them expected to fall — hard.

As desire deepens into something dangerously close to love, their fragile bond is tested by ruthless enemies, haunting secrets, and the brutal reality of their worlds: hers, humble and struggling; his, ruthless and elite.

Can a relationship born of desperation and desire survive the storm — and turn into something real?

Every she-wolf in the Blackwood Pack envied me.
Olivia Klein, the lowest-ranked Omega who married the most powerful Alpha, Dominic Blackwood.
Yet none knew the truth of my torment.
The Phoenix mark on my neck made me Dominic Blackwood’s Luna—but it never made me his choice.
For five years, I endured his hatred, the pack’s scorn, and the crushing weight of a prophecy no one believed.
And when the car crash nearly stole our unborn child from me, my desperate calls went unanswered.
Instead, Dominic moved his ex into our bedroom.
That’s when I understood: prophecies lie. Marks fade. And some battles?
Aren’t worth fighting.
For the sake of my child, I was resolved to leave.
But tell me, why did that callous, heartless Alpha suddenly have regrets?

My name is Mira. I am the princess of the Nightwood Pack, yet I live like a slave.

Everyone believes I am the cause of my mother’s death. My father, the Alpha, hates me for it. While my twin sister is loved, cherished, and treated like a princess, I am punished, humiliated, and forced to suffer in my own father’s house.

On the night of our eighteenth birthday, Alphas from different packs arrived to celebrate the Blood Moon Festival. That was the night I found my mate, Ashur, the strongest Alpha ever known. I was finally happy. I believed my suffering was over.

That same night, I gave myself to him, and we shared a one-night bond.

But by morning, everything changed.

After my father filled Asher’s ears with lies, calling me a curse, Asher rejected me publicly before the entire pack. As if that pain wasn’t enough, he chose my twin sister as his Luna and left me shattered.

Weeks later, I discovered I was pregnant with Asher’s child.

Then an old wizard appeared with a terrifying prophecy:
The child growing inside me would one day kill my sister, and to stop the prophecy from coming true, I must be killed.

She came with claws and fire, scent like sin; his wolf didn’t stand a chance. Neither did he.

•••

Brant Paxton has always been the wild one—gorgeous, untamed, and irresistible to everyone. But when Sable Knox returns, everything changes. She’s no longer the sweet girl he remembers. She’s fierce, sexy, and carries a scent that sets his wolf on edge. The heat between them is dangerous. Forbidden. But Brant can’t stay away.

Sable once called the Paxtons her family, but one tragic night tore it all apart. Now she’s back, stronger and smarter, ready to make them pay—especially Brant. But nothing prepares her for the fire that ignites when they’re close. Her wolf wants him. Craves him. And Sable doesn’t know if she’s falling into his arms or into a trap.
As old wounds reopen and passion burns hotter, Brant and Sable must choose: follow the rules or give in to the sin that could ruin them both.

Content Warning: This book contains sexual content and mature themes. Reader discretion is advised.

The day I achieved telepathic breakthrough, I heard my fiancée's inner voice telling me to "get lost."
In the restaurant, she abandoned me as I coughed up blood to embrace another man.
I signed the death contract for the meat grinder frontline, determined to die, but when bone spikes pierced through my chest, my telepathy revealed the truth—she pushed me away not because she didn't love me, but because she had been bitten by a zombie three years ago.

When I woke up from the car accident, the calendar had jumped to five years later.
who suddenly appeared out of nowhere , was flirting with her lover on the sofa right in front of me, and then threw her credit card in my face: "Useless thing, from today onwards, go earn your own money."
I glanced at my watch and signed the divorce agreement, agreeing to leave with nothing.
Half an hour later, the director of Patek Philippe arrived at my door carrying a royal rare watch and bowed respectfully: "Young Master Stirling, the family welcomes you back."
She froze. I put on my watch and walked out the door without looking back.
Later she realized that when I left with nothing, it wasn't because I had nothing at all, but because I didn't care about what she had.

In the previous life, the game descended into reality, the laws of the virtual world tore the sky apart, and top players became gods of the new world.
The day before the game's release, I helped Julian acquire the top-tier item, the Absolute Defense Ring, only to have his account stolen and all his equipment taken away by him and my fiancée .
After the game started, they threw me into the horde of rotting corpses like trash , stepped on my bones to become emperors, and lived happily ever after, while I was devoured to death by the rotting corpses .
In this life, I am reborn three days before my arrival . I will use Julian's money to clear the dungeon, steal his top-tier items, and then, in the apocalypse of the game where monsters and skills materialize , at his most inflated coronation ceremony, I will personally tear apart his ridiculous absolute defense and take the lives of all the traitors.

I was once the adopted son of Eric Miller, the Don of the Miller Family.
My future was supposed to be simple—loyal to the Don, respected by the Family, destined to inherit power.
But I carried a secret that turned me into a freak in his eyes.
A forbidden love.
When Eric found the diary where I had hidden my feelings for him, I cried and apologized again and again.
It didn’t matter. The disgust in his eyes never changed.
He sent me away—exiled to a remote country under the watch of his men.
From there, I heard the news of his wedding.
I saw the way he looked at Julia—soft, full of love. And in a moment of madness, I spent every last dollar I had and flew to Thailand for gender reassignment surgery.
Nights after the surgery were filled with pain from the silicone implants pressing against my skin.
But even after becoming a woman, I still couldn't win Eric’s love.
Just when I finally let him go, he suddenly bought me a ticket back to America.
He said he wanted me to attend his fifth wedding anniversary with Julia.
And when he saw Lily in my arms, he froze.
“Your daughter?”

I bled to death on a cold hospital bed, my unborn child gone, all because I took a shift for my coworker.
Heaven granted me a second chance. I opened my eyes, sitting safely at my office desk. Before I could shake off the nightmare, Vanessa clicked her heels toward me.
"Claire, can you cover for me at the investor party tonight? It’s my anniversary with my boyfriend."
In my past life, I agreed, only to be locked in a private room by monsters and tortured to death. This time, I looked her in the eye. "No."
Vanessa was stunned. Because of my refusal, she missed the crucial meeting and was mercilessly fired by the director.
I thought I had escaped hell and saved her life too. But when I got home to my loving husband, I realized the true nightmare had just begun...

A falling rock woke my mind.
Three years of companionship ultimately could not withstand the white moonlight.
Once, twice, three times...
All the way to the thirty-six false proposals that paved the way with hypocritical warmth.
Shattered beneath the stage light rig.
In the excruciating pain of amputation, I saw clearly my lover's cowardice and betrayal.
And the final multimedia message became the straw that broke the camel's back.
The thirty-seventh proposal, I took the initiative.
After lying low in Oceania for five years, I was reborn as a business elite, with a sky of my own.
He deeply regretted it, even risking his life to repay me.
But I was long past the point of no return.

My husband and I couldn’t get pregnant after we got married, and we really wanted a baby of our own,

We tried IVF, and after three failed rounds I finally got pregnant,

But then my husband and my parents suddenly started pressuring me to get an abortion...

The day I received my medical report and found out I was pregnant, my husband—Alpha Godfrey Hansen—held a small wedding ceremony in the hospital garden with his first love and former mate, Gillian Boyd.
He explained, “Her final wish in this life was to be my bride.”
But what about me?
What was I to him? A replacement?
It finally hit me—ten years of unwavering devotion and sacrifice meant nothing compared to a single tear shed by his first love.

Before the wedding, my fiancé, Alpha Kendrick, stood in front of me. Hesitation flickered in his eyes, but so did hope.
“Can you give me a month?” he asked, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.
A month. Time to see if he could patch things up with Elena Manwaring—his ex-girlfriend. His fated mate.
“If it works out,” he continued, the words deliberate, like he was convincing himself as much as me, “then it’s the Moon Goddess’s blessing. But if it doesn’t… I’ll come back. I’ll marry you. And I’ll leave her behind—forever.”
He meant it. He truly believed this was the honorable thing to do.
I didn’t argue. I didn’t cry. Instead, I let a small, knowing smile tug at my lips.
“Go ahead,” I said, my voice calm and steady. “Give it a try. Life’s too short for regrets, right?”
Relief broke over his face like a wave, as though I’d just untangled him from a chain he hadn’t known how to break. That night, he drove off, lighter than I’d seen him in months.
Meanwhile, I packed my bags in silence.

When I woke up, I realized I’d lost my memory.

The maid told me Leno was my husband.

His face felt strangely familiar, but whenever he got close, my body resisted him for no reason at all.

Not until midnight, when I overheard Leon talking to a man, did I learn the truth—my real husband was Gaius.

He was the one who had a doctor drug me into amnesia so he could fool around with Flora… and he even had Leon pretend to be my husband.

At the victory banquet, I saw Gaius and Leon standing together—and realized they had identical faces. That’s when I understood why Leon’s expression never matched the one in the photos.

And my husband had no idea I’d already uncovered everything. He was openly flirting with Flora right in front of everyone.

Then came the party games. I lost and had to take a punishment. Everyone waited for me to choose Gaius. Leon suggested kissing someone for a full minute—so I wrapped my arms around his neck and said, “Of course I’ll kiss my husband.”

His kiss was de

I never expected to be branded a “fake heiress” and a “scheming bitch” on my own wedding anniversary.
“Did you really think we’d never find out you faked the DNA test?” My mother’s voice cut like a blade. “You’ve been impersonating our real daughter all along.”
The irony was suffocating. They were the ones who stormed into my peaceful life, insisting that I was their long-lost child—no proof needed. And now they dared to call me the fraud.
“Since Camille has finally returned to where she belongs,” my father declared coldly, “it’s time for you to crawl back into whatever shadow you came from.”
Then came the final blow. My husband of five years didn’t even hesitate.
“I’ll have the divorce papers drawn up immediately. Don’t make this difficult, Mirena. You were never meant to be my wife.”
Overnight, I was discarded. The scandal of the city. The woman who stole a life that was never hers.
But they forgot one thing: I never needed them.
Before I was George Ashton’s wife, I was Mirena Sterling—the Investment Queen. The woman who broke Wall Street records before she turned twenty-five. A racing champion. A tech prodigy.
I walked away from all of it. Gave up my empire. My crown. My name. All for a man who threw me away like garbage the moment someone “better” came along.
Big mistake.
On the night they cast me out, soaking wet and humiliated, I ran into the last person I ever wanted to see.
“Look at you now, Mirena,” Alexander Pierce murmured, watching me with those piercing eyes. “The woman who once ruled the financial world. Reduced to this.” He tilted his head. “And for what? Love?” A dark laugh. “Pathetic.”
My former rival. The man who spent years trying to beat me—and never once succeeded. Now he stood before me, a Wall Street titan, watching my downfall with hungry satisfaction.
He thought he’d seen the last of me.
He was wrong.
The game was simple now: drop the dead weight, reclaim what’s mine, and remind everyone why they feared my name.
Within months, I was back. Every market moved when I breathed. Every headline screamed my return. The Sterlings came crawling, begging for mercy they’d never shown me. And George? He watched in horror as I bought his most prized company without blinking.
The divorce he’d so eagerly signed? His greatest regret.
“Mirena, please,” he begged, groveling at my feet. “Give me another chance.”
I didn’t even look at him. “Sorry, darling. I don’t recycle trash.”
But what I didn’t expect was him.
Alexander Pierce dropped to one knee in front of me—the man who had once mocked my fall, now looking up with something raw and undisguised in his crimson gaze.
“I knew you’d take back everything they stole,” he said, voice low. “Now…” A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. “Take me too.”

She thought she was human—until she drowned.

She wakes in the body of a missing selkie princess in a hidden island kingdom… and quickly realizes she’ll be executed if anyone discovers the truth.

The only person who knows? Her guard—cold, loyal, and furious she’s taken the place of the woman he was sworn to protect.

When her unstable shifting magic reveals something impossible—both selkie and tideborn blood—he’s forced to keep her secret… because exposing her would destabilize the crown.

Now, bound by duty and necessity, they must secretly search for the real princess—before her magic exposes them both.

The legendary general Victor was sentenced to death, and everyone thought he had already been buried in the grave.
Until a phone call came through ,
"Dad, help!... They took Mom away."

"Turn around. I want to fuck you."
I blinked. "What?"
"I said turn...around."
Before I could speak again, he had me on my stomach, face buried in the sheets. I could smell the heat of myself in the fabric. His weight hovered behind me, knees against the bed, strong thighs pressed to the outside of mine, holding me still. My skirt was hiked up around my waist. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath.


Kristen Lockwood never expected to fall for her father's best friend. She only met Leo Moretti after her father’s death, when a stranger on a motorcycle showed up with a scar across his knuckles, a gun under his jacket, and eyes that looked at her like she was already dangerous.
He says he’s here to protect her, that it’s what her father wanted. But he watches her too closely, speaks too little, and sets rules she can't help but break. He acts like touching her would ruin them both.

The worst part is, she wants him to.

Leo Moretti is the leader of the Bloodhounds, a supernatural biker gang that guards the borders between worlds. He never met Kristen until now, never even knew she existed and definitely didn’t expect her to come crashing down his walls with her presence.
Now every moment between them feels like something waiting to snap. She wants to get under his skin. She wants to see what happens when he finally loses control. She wants to see how far he can go before he slams her into his bed.

Leo is not allowed to want her.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t.

Warning: Contains strong language, graphic sexual content, supernatural violence, and dark themes. Recommended for mature audiences only.

In a zombie apocalypse, survivors build a fortress-like base. My girlfriend and I are its lead researchers, racing to create the serum that could end the world’s collapse.

On a sampling run outside the walls, she chooses to save the “genius” colleague she just brought back—and leaves me behind to be swallowed by a horde.

With no way out, I inject myself with an unfinished prototype. I survive… but I come back as a zombie.

The difference is: I don’t lose my mind. I keep my human intelligence—and I can command other zombies. They bow instinctively, as if they’ve sensed a king.

Inside the base, that so-called genius is working with raiders beyond the walls, pushing a fake serum to control the troops and selling the defenses piece by piece to the enemy.

As the base collapses, the drugged soldiers turn on each other atop the ramparts. The chain of command snaps. Everyone is waiting to die.

Then—at the moment the walls give way and screams drown out gunfire—I stand on the ruins outside, raise my hand, and sweep it forward.

The horde behind me doesn’t attack the survivors. Like a disciplined army, it bypasses them and surgically crushes every invader.

Only then does the woman who abandoned me realize what she destroyed.

But I don’t need her regret anymore.

In my past life, I was cheated on.
My wife is having an affair with my fitness coach, and even our five-year-old daughter isn't my child.
I filed for divorce, and she left with nothing. I thought my life couldn't get any worse—but then the apocalypse came, and I was bitten to death by zombies.
In her last moments before she died, I saw her family of three nestled in her lover's secluded mountain cabin, with plenty of food and drink, passing away peacefully in their old age.
God gave me a second chance.
Back on the day we signed the divorce papers, I smiled and said to my ex-wife, "You can have the villa, but I want Julian's dilapidated cabin."

Six months ago, a yacht explosion consumed everyone I loved: my husband Leonard, my parents, and my brother.
I escaped only because of stomach pain that kept me from boarding. My adopted sister Claire became the sole survivor.
Since then, I've become an empty shell.
Even after being diagnosed with terminal uterine cancer, even while carrying my late husband's child, I've endured the agony of chemotherapy alone, exhausting what little strength remains to scrape together money for Claire—who hides away in a private care facility, claiming severe PTSD.
Until this winter day, with a blizzard approaching.
Dragging my dying body to my husband's memorial to pay respects, I discovered a credit card statement—charges made three months after his death.
Following the address on that receipt, I pushed open the door of a luxurious suburban villa.
Inside, it was warm as spring. My parents and brother, who should have been at the bottom of the ocean, stood there perfectly alive.
At the center of the room, my husband—the man I'd grieved for day and night—was kissing my adopted sister, his lips tender against hers.
The whole family was celebrating, raising glasses to toast the infant cradled in Claire's arms—barely a month old.
There had never been any disaster at sea.
It was all a meticulously planned hoax—their twisted way to erase me from their lives forever.