3197 Book(s) Related to my surprise mate chapter 27

In my previous life, I chose the werewolf and gave birth to the Arbiter, only to be burned alive by the younger sister I loved most.
When I was reborn, I knelt before the Oath Stone, handed my marriage pact to her, and watched her gloat in triumph before choosing Sylas, the elf everyone else avoided.
Everyone was waiting to see me make a fool of myself—until the day of the wedding, when he came carrying a gown blessed by the Sacred Tree, lowered his eyes to me, and said, "In this life, I will never fail you."

My name is Jack Morris, a bottom-rung janitor on the docks.
Every day, people walk all over me, and I live on moldy bread.
Until one day, an old man I saved handed me a photograph. "This is my granddaughter. She's being held at the Black Swan Casino."
That used to be my place. Ten years ago.
Her father was a brother who died in my place.
I was once the king of the underground.
And now, at the banquet celebrating the tenth anniversary of my death, they're treating that old man's granddaughter like a toy.
If my disappearance only made those animals more brazen...
Then they can finish that drink and celebrate their own deaths next.

After Grandpa passed away, he left two inheritances behind.
One was an underground shelter costing over a hundred million yuan.
The other was a crumbling old house on the brink of collapse in the village.
My younger sister Su Rou rushed to pick the underground shelter first, so I settled for the old house.
No one expected an extreme cold apocalypse to descend just days later.
Su Rou moved into the shelter with her boyfriend.
But her boyfriend leaked the gate password, attracting a mob of thugs.
Su Rou was reduced to their plaything, trapped in a fate worse than death.
As for me, I discovered the old house’s cellar connected to a natural underground hot spring. I managed to survive by sheer luck.
When Su Rou heard the news, she was consumed by envy. She led the thugs straight to me, forcing me to take her place.
"Sister, you’ve always been the nicest to me since we were kids. You’ll save me, right? You take my place and serve them instead."
I could no longer endure the humiliation. I set fire to the place and died alongside them all.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the very moment we chose the inheritances.
Seeing Su Rou pick the run-down old house without the slightest hesitation, I knew she had also been reborn.
I bowed my head to hide all my emotions, then silently chose the underground shelter.
My dear sister… that drafty, ramshackle old house is nowhere near as wonderful as you think it is.

A gang boss ground my treasured staff into dust with one boot. “A gutter-bred bastard from the slums, and you’re hiding something this delicate? Cripple him. Let him learn who runs this turf.”
I stared at the silver-white powder on the floor. It was the last relic my brothers left me.
I once swore these hands would be used only to save people, never to kill again.
But today, even the heavens refused to allow it.
I lifted my head slowly. The elven ears I’d kept lowered in submission rose one by one in the dark, sharp as a wolf’s.
“You’re asking me who runs this turf?”
My fist snapped out and caved in the boss’s nose.
I twisted backhanded. Three elite enforcers had their bones shattered in an instant, collapsing like sacks of rotten meat.
I grabbed the boss by the throat with one hand and hoisted his two-hundred-pound body into the air, eyes cold as if I were staring at a corpse.
“Three years ago, when I laid down the rules in this district, you didn’t even know where you were playing in the mud.”
“My things are not for you to touch.”

When a baby unites two worlds, and a contract blossoms into love.

Monica , a mistreated Omega at the hands of her stepbrother, faces judgment and abandonment from her Alpha mate, Conrad. Seeking solace, she turns to the Governor, finding refuge from the nightmares of her past. Together, they embark on a vengeful mission to make Conrad pay for the pain he caused and seek justice for the Governor's deceased wife. Monica devises a plan to seduce Conrad and earn his trust, but the question remains: will her love triumph? Can she truly make him suffer and face his demise?

As a shocking revelation unfolds, Monica's world is turned upside down, forcing her to question her choices and decisions.

（Do not open this novel lightly, or you will become so engrossed that you won't be able to stop reading for three days and nights...）
Alia never dreamed that she would have a flash marriage with a man she had only met twice!
On their wedding night, she was pinned down and dominated by him.
The next day, the man transformed into the CEO of the company where she was interning.
Not only that, but he was also the next heir to the Mafia... "The Black Prince"!

"Jake? You sick fuck. Paid for this? His hands inside me?"

Sophia's voice cracked over the intercom, her oiled ass clenching around the masseur's pumping fingers. Live feed burned: her thighs quaking, pussy gushing slick down the table edge. I gripped the chair arms white-knuckled, cock straining—half rage, half blaze.

"Babe... yeah. Full service. Watch you cum harder," I rasped into the mic, voice raw. "Tell him—deeper or stop?"

Tech's eyes flicked to the camera, smirking as he curled two fingers inside her, thumb circling her clit. She bucked, moan ripping free. "Fuck... don't stop. Deeper—wreck me. Jake, you watching? Perverted cuck."

"Every thrust," I growled. "His fingers owning your tight pussy. Bigger rush than mine?"

Her head snapped up, doe eyes locking the hidden lens—pure fury melting to feral hunger. "Hell yes. Stretch me wider. Tell him flip me—fuck me raw while you beg."

Tech froze, glancing my way. My nod sealed it. "You heard her. Pound my girl. Make her scream your name."

He flipped her prone—tits spilling free, legs splayed wide. Cock out, thick and veined, he notched her dripping folds. "Ready to cum for a stranger, Sophia?"

"Do it," she hissed, hips grinding up. "Show Jake what he's missing."

He slammed home—her wail echoing both rooms. Relationship shattered. Door to real breeding? Kicked wide open.

For five years, my marriage was nothing but a lie, a perfect show Aiden staged for the entire family.
I loved him for more than a decade. And for his lover, he threw our five-year-old daughter, Chloe, into the basement to be fed to his Dobermans.
All because Chloe accidentally shattered an antique crystal cup, a so-called love token between Aiden and his precious Sophia.
I dropped to my knees and begged. He looked at me like I was nothing and said Family rules matter more than blood.
When I carried my daughter’s mutilated body out of that basement, fireworks were exploding on the rooftop above, celebrating his grand confession of love to Sophia.
He froze my accounts. And on the day of Chloe’s funeral, he took her to a concert.
I was holding my daughter’s ashes, trapped, desperate, with nowhere left to go when a message from an unknown number appeared. A car was waiting at the side gate. It was Daniel, my childhood friend.
Only after I disappeared with my daughter’s ashes did Aiden finally realize the truth—that the “sweet, innocent” Sophia was the real killer of his own child.

I came home early from a business trip and overheard the woman Joseph always called his “poor stepmother” clinging to him in his office, begging for a kiss. Her swollen belly carried his child.
“When do I get to stop pretending to be your stepmother?” Susan whined.
Joseph’s cold laugh stripped away the last of my dignity. “Soon. Once I drain Emma’s company dry, she’ll be useless.”
I used to think Joseph was my salvation.
After his father died and his pregnant stepmother had nowhere to go, I ignored my family’s objections and brought them both into my home. I poured every resource I had into helping him rise.
I even became pregnant with his child.
Only then did I realize I had never really been his wife.
I was only the stepping stone they used to climb into wealth.
That night, Susan staged a miscarriage.
And Joseph, his face twisted with rage, locked me—pregnant and bleeding—inside a freezing basement.
“A vicious woman like you doesn’t deserve a child.”

我躺在那里，脸埋在妈妈那破烂的阴部黏稠的残骸里，她疲惫的身体像被征服的战利品一样瘫坐在我身上。房间里弥漫着精液、粪便和汗水的臭味——我们的宿舍兄弟们早已离开，笑得前仰后合。索菲的大腿在我耳边颤抖，浓密的阴唇还在抽动，把群交鸡尾酒渗到我嘴唇上。心跳加速，我僵住了。她看见我看着那场肮脏的节目——她那精英律师的伪装破碎了，沦为室友们喝尿、舔屁股的荡妇。

“嗯......伊桑？”她的声音哽咽，喉咙交欢后沙哑，呼吸热烈地吹在我额头上。没有愤怒——只有带着羞愧的欲望。“宝贝......你尝过所有的......通过我。舔得更深。妈妈现在需要她的乖孩子。”

操。界限模糊了。咬紧牙关逃跑？还是直接跳进去，抢先吃到的？她的臀部磨蹭着，强迫我的舌头进入。无处可逃。这就是我们的新地狱——天堂。

At a lavish dinner, a billionaire with a net worth of four billion embraced my ex-wife and slapped five thousand yuan in my face: "Kneel down, kiss her shoes, and then get out of here."
The entire audience of celebrities burst into laughter, while the ex-wife's eyes were filled with the pleasure of revenge.
Without even lifting my eyelids, I dialed a number in front of everyone: "I'm going to bankrupt one person. Execution level: nuclear bomb."
They laughed at me for pretending to be crazy.
Three minutes later, the entire nation was in an uproar. Four billion dollars in assets were frozen, the FBI broke down the door, and the once arrogant tycoon collapsed to the ground like a dog.
I endured for three years, just to save her grandfather's life. Since she's in such a hurry to break the contract, I don't need to pretend anymore.
This is not just a story about divorce; it's a countdown to the gods regaining control of the Book of Life and Death on Earth.

The global freeze descended, and the apocalypse arrived right on cue. I seized all the critical supplies and evacuated first, leaving "the perfect base" behind for the two traitors who backstabbed me. They thought it was heaven, but little did they know that the entire fortress was a precision trap constructed of deception, scarcity, and despair. As the outdoor temperature plummeted to minus eighty degrees, I sat by the window, roasting venison and watching them through high-definition infrared, coldly observing as they lost their humanity in the desperate fight for a single bowl of sawdust.

At fifteen, my parents died on their way of volunteer teaching in underprivileged areas. I was adopted by the Miller family’s Don, Vincent and was brought up by himself. For ten years, he hauled me out of the mud, gave me a home, gave me favor no one else got and taught me what a “family” was supposed to mean.
On my eighteenth birthday, I climbed onto his bed and kissed him.
He called me disgusting with a face like ice. Later, he brought Isabella home, forced me to be her bridesmaid, and made me go with her to pick out wedding dresses and jewelry.
One shove from her was all it took for him to lock me in a pitch-black confinement room and he even had the light removed.
That was when I finally understood: everything I had could be taken back from me at any moment.

When Sarah is forced to accept a marriage proposal in place of her half sister, Veronica, she never imagined the man would be Edward Huxley.
Edward Huxley, the formidable owner of Huxley Airline and Shipping Company and the most eligible billionaire bachelor in the country, is shocked and enraged when he discovers that the woman in his bed is not Veronica, as he expected, but the unknown and seemingly bland illegitimate Maxwell daughter. Their encounter ends in an unplanned one night stand.
When Veronica learns of Edward's true identity, she decides she wants him for herself. Together with her mother, she accuses and humiliates Sarah.
Heartbroken and shattered, Sarah leaves the country. Four years later, she returns as a different woman with a successful career and her adorable twins, who share the unmistakable features of the country's billionaire heartthrob, Edward Huxley.
Edward is stunned by her transformation and finds himself falling for her all over again. Determined to win her heart, he sets out to rebuild their family. But will he succeed, or is he already too late with the enigmatic Benicio always by Sarah's side, his eyes filled with love and devotion?

"Play the perfect wife. Take the cash. Walk away ruined."

The rules of my two-year marriage contract with billionaire Silas Rutherford were simple.
Until he found the video that proved I killed his late wife.

Now, he doesn't want a contract. He wants revenge.
And the price for my survival? Becoming the bedwarmer to a man who vows to destroy me.

He thinks he’s punishing a murderer. He doesn't know I'm protecting the real killer—or that the child growing inside me is his.

"Do you think you can walk into my bed, throw your body, and virginity to me as a distraction—steal from me, and get away with it?"
"Pl-please let me go, sir. I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know anything about any chip. I'm begging you," Olivia cried painfully.
Nero's hand left her hair and came to wrap around her slender, fair neck. 
He remembered peppering lots of kisses on this swanlike neck but would not hesitate to snap it if she continued in her attempt to fool him.
"Think very carefully about the next answer you're going to give me, because I would snap your fragile neck like a fucking twig if it's not satisfactory to me."


Olivia crossed paths with the ruthless mafia boss, Nero, on the day she planned to elope with her boyfriend, after her mother forced her to join the convent. She had no idea that she had left with more than his jacket. 
She escaped with a chip that contained the secrets of his business empire and his heir in her womb. Olivia is kidnapped and taken to Italy and into a world she never imagined... filled with danger, betrayal, lies, and death. 
Truths become lies and lies become the only true thing in the world of and Nero. 
Will love and trust ever be enough when survival and truth is paramount?

There are too many ways of taking revenge on a woman. But he chose marriage. In the past three years, he acted like a ruthless husband, treating her coldly, and even more worse, humiliating her. Even when she was pregnant, he tried to force her to give it up, to retire from film field, to expel her from her country.

Married for seven years, I lived my life like an absolute joke.
For the sake of my brother, my wife personally uprooted the roses I had so painstakingly cultivated. To please her uncle, my daughter pointed at my nose and called me a "bad daddy."
The entire family even held a vote to force me to donate my bone marrow. My wife, Elena, raised her hand without a second thought: "You'll just lose a little bone marrow. Liam will die without you."
In that moment, my heart died.
The surgery was a success.
As the anesthesia wore off, Elena was holding my hand tightly. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her voice trembled with remorse: "Aaron, I was a jerk before. As long as you were willing to save Liam, I will love only you for the rest of my life."
She thought I would be as pathetically grateful as a dog, begging for her affection and humbly forgiving her.
But I merely frowned in disgust and pulled my hand back as if shaking off garbage.
In the dead silence, I looked at this tearful woman before me and asked, politely yet confused:
"Excuse me, ma'am... who are you?"

When the apocalypse came, I became one of the military's failed experiments—defective, useless, a waste of space who only knew how to fix machines.
My so-called brother Kane used the camp leader access I got for him to trade away the comms gear I nearly died to secure for a bottle of whiskey. He drained my bone marrow dry to keep me in the dark, then dumped me out in the wasteland to die.
After that, he pinned every bit of luxury and waste on me—
while my little sister didn't even have the medicine she needed to stay alive.
That night, dragging my crippled body behind me, I reached into the substation.
Kane, do you remember what kind of genes were in those five hundred milliliters of bone marrow?

In my past life, when the apocalypse broke out, I braved the pressure and opened the fortress gates to take in my mother-in-law and brother-in-law, who had nowhere else to go.
They shoved my wife and me straight into a horde of zombies.
My wife and I were reborn seven days before the apocalypse. I turned my head and saw the same fear and coldness surging in her eyes as mine:
"This time, don't open the door."
"Never." I smiled coldly.
Not only would I keep the door shut—I would watch with my own eyes as those bloodsucking ingrates, who had drained me dry in my past life, were slowly devoured by hunger and despair right outside the gate.

On the execution platform, my noble and beautiful wife used her dagger to carve open my chest.
My nominal adopted son pressed a red-hot iron into my skin, branding me with the "F"-class mark of the lowest outcast, draining my transcendent bloodline dry.
"The Storm Kingdom has no use for a cripple with zero beast-spirit affinity. You belong rotting in the abyss!"
They cut the chains and kicked me into the Black Abyss—a place from which no one returns—then turned to carve up my throne.
They thought I was as good as dead.
They had no idea that the deepest darkness of that abyss harbored the most terrifying ancient demon in existence.
Two weeks later, as they raised their glasses to toast the new king's coronation, I kicked down the castle gates, wielding the ember-fire of annihilation and a tide of ten thousand beasts.
Looking down at the woman who once stood so high above me, now groveling in the mud and begging for mercy, I tossed the bloodstained broken blade onto the hem of her dress:
"Remember this forever—it was you who took a nobody you crushed beneath your feet and turned him into a king you'll kneel before and never win back. Now, hand over your lives."

In my past life, I squandered all my wealth to support my fiancée's family, but when the extreme heat of the apocalypse arrived, she and her lover broke my legs, brutally drained my marrow, and devoured me alive.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the seven days before the apocalypse.

This time, I will never repeat the same mistake.

I decisively kicked away these cold-blooded parasites, canceled all my credit cards, and, with the true love who died to save me in my past life, built an indestructible, top-tier temperature-controlled fortress.

As global temperatures soared, Los Angeles became a scorching inferno, and the fiancée's family couldn't even get a sip of dirty water, ultimately being forced to resort to cannibalism and killing each other.

And I, sitting in a 22-degree air-conditioned room eating chilled watermelon, coldly watch this bloody live broadcast of dogs fighting each other.

The fires of hell have been lit, and your judgment has only just begun.

In my previous life, my wife was addicted to black market gambling on football, which caused us to lose everything.
To make matters worse, a zombie horde then broke out.
We had no shelter and were quickly torn apart by a horde of frenzied zombies.
After being reborn, she planned to run off with all the money, then dump me and elope with her lover.
What she didn't know was that I had awakened the ability to read minds and knew all her plans.

To annul the engagement, the aloof heiress of a wealthy family spent three years planning thirteen accidents to try and kill me.
Car accident, falling object, poisoning... I survived covered in blood, only to be met with her disgusted question: "How come you're still alive?"
She let her scheming childhood sweetheart crush my father's ashes, and even personally drained my last remaining blood to save me, all for her sweetheart's self-inflicted injury.
She thought I would be like a dog, clinging to her side forever without any boundaries.
Until that day, I calmly handed over the annulment agreement, clutching the diagnosis of late-stage brain cancer, and completely disappeared from her world.
Later, when she finally found out the truth, she searched the world frantically, only to find my emaciated, cold corpse.
That arrogant and haughty young lady has completely collapsed.
She personally sent her childhood sweetheart to hell, knelt before my body wearing a veil, and desperately raised a gun:
“Ivan, walk slowly on your way to the underworld... I’m giving my life for you.”

Five years into my marriage, I took off my Donna necklace at the Rossi family’s New Year’s Eve banquet and Noah still thought I could never leave him.
He stood by the long table with his mistress, Amelia, and said in front of every capo, “Some people will never measure up to her. Not even close.”
I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I just turned and walked away. On my way out, my cousin Lucas, my fixer, handed me a cup of coffee.
Three days later, he brought me two pieces of news.
Amelia was four months pregnant. And Noah was trading family territory to get his bastard child recognized by the family.
“What are you going to do?” Lucas asked.
I stared out the window, thinking about the red lipstick stain on Noah’s shirt. Thinking about the smug look in his eyes when he told me, “I only helped her because I felt sorry for her.”
“Wait,” I said. “Wait until they think they’ve won.”
What Noah didn’t know was I was still holding one last trump card.

When the apocalyptic red rain fell, my brother and I both awakened spatial abilities.

He awakened a space as vast as a mansion and was hailed by the entire family as their savior.

While I only awakened a "suitcase" and was ruthlessly drained of all my assets by my parents to support my brother, then kicked out of the house.

They mocked me cruelly: "We don't keep deadweights. Go wait for death in the 70-degree furnace outside!"

What they didn't know was that my brother's space had no preservation function—his stockpile of premium ingredients would soon rot into a pile of maggot-infested meat.

But my suitcase had upgrade attributes!

While they fought each other over a sip of putrid green water in the 200-degree hellscape,

I sat in the "Eden" I had created, watching herds of cattle and sheep, drinking ice-cold fresh milk.

I begged my mom for ten dollars, but she smashed my head with a frying pan instead.

The next day, my mother posted on a forum asking:
"Hi everyone. My eldest son lied about the end of the world just to get ten dollars. I want to ask, how can I sell him on the underground black market to pay off his younger brother's $20,000 debt?"

The moment I saw that post, any remaining love I had for them died instantly. I snapped my phone's SIM card in half.

What she didn’t know was that a world-ending acid flood would descend upon New York tomorrow.

I had begged so bitterly for that ten dollars just to trigger the Ten-Million-Fold Return System to build a three-billion-dollar Doomsday Ark.

Since she didn’t want it, I gave the throne of the Ark Queen to the female classmate who casually tossed me some charity.

My wife is the city's renowned "Community Angel." She donates every single cent of her high salary to the poor, all to buy herself a saintly reputation.
Meanwhile, as her husband, I spend my days rolling beneath cars in a factory, covered in grease, juggling four credit cards just to keep our large family afloat.
My parents-in-law survive on the expensive, imported life-saving meds I pay for, yet they constantly mock me for being a powerless nobody;
My own children attend private schools on my dime, only to look at me with disgust and call me an embarrassment;
And my wife? Dressed in her high-end couture, she looks down at me and condescendingly urges, "For the sake of the poor children, why don't you get another part-time job and just endure it a little longer?"
Looking at this den of parasites sucking the life out of me, a sudden, overwhelming wave of disgust washed over me.
I didn't argue. I silently put away my overdue bills, packed my bags, and completely vanished from this twisted household.
Later, at the highly anticipated Annual Charity Gala, in front of the entire city, I presented her with an ultimate "gift"—

We’ve been married for five years. Then, she got pregnant with someone else's child.
In front of everyone, she said: "Ethan doesn't want this baby. You've always wanted one, right? Fine, take it and raise it."
In that moment, I finally understood: she wasn’t incapable of loving someone—she simply never saw me as a human being.
I took off my wedding ring, left it on the tray, and bought a one-way ticket to the North. My family said I wouldn't survive in the frozen North; she said that without her, I was nothing.
Three years later, she tracked me down using the GPS hidden inside that ring. She pushed open the door to my attic room, finding only a note I’d left: "Don't look for me. We're square."

For the love of him, I hid my billions and played the invisible wife for three years. Now? The game is over.
For three years, Elena endured a husband who barely acknowledged her, a mother-in-law who treated her like hired help, and a sister-in-law who sneered that she was nothing but a golddigger. All the while, her husband, Damien, pined after his "perfect" ex, like his own wife didn't exist.
The morning after their third anniversary, her mother-in-law delivered the final blow:
"Damien's right. You're not going anywhere. I don't want you bringing shame to my son, not now that he just closed a major deal. Besides, you're not smart enough or strong enough to survive on your own."
"We'll see," Elena said quietly.
She signed the divorce papers, packed a single bag, and vanished.
Damien was certain she'd come crawling back within a week. But the woman they all dismissed? Turns out Elena is a billionaire heiress, the CEO of the very empire Damien has been desperate to partner with and the one now signing his paychecks.
Oops.
Now Damien is spiraling, realizing too late what he lost. But Elena has choices she never had before. Like her childhood best friend, an NFL star who's been in love with her all along.
So who will it be?
The ex-husband who finally woke up?
The best friend who never left?
Or has Elena finally decided she's done with men who don't deserve her?

I'm an ancient vampire prince who's been playing human boyfriend to a demon hunter.
Big mistake.
She's completely unhinged—GPS tracking, 24/7 surveillance, the works.
When she threatens to dump me unless I surrender all my secrets, I do the unthinkable:
I actually say yes.
Too bad she doesn't know her "helpless" boyfriend has been the one keeping her alive all this time.

In my last life, my parents favored my younger brother. They promised him to the angel who would remain on the surface, and shoved me to an abyssal demon.
When the apocalypse came, the angel burned through her divine power and fell. I took my family in out of kindness, and they repaid me with a bowl of poisoned soup.
When I opened my eyes again, our whole family had reincarnated.
This time, my parents couldn’t wait to push my brother into the demon’s arms, dreaming of living off him inside the abyssal lair.
I watched them sign the shadow contract like they were grabbing a priceless treasure, then took the rejected holy-light angel without hesitation.
They had no idea the Abyss’s shelter is paid for in flesh and blood.
But an angel’s loyalty can raise an iron divine kingdom that never falls, even in this world-ending flood.

Betrayed to death by my own brother, I was reborn before the apocalypse descended.
He rushed to seize the god-tier [Copy] talent first, leaving the trash [Purification] talent for me.
He thought that with this talent, he'd have no worries and reign supreme in the apocalypse.
Meanwhile, I quietly closed the last door of my fortress.
He didn't know that his prized copying ability had a fatal flaw.

In my past life, I personally dug up two alien meteorites, handing the blue one that granted "Frost Mastery" to my childhood friend, Mike. He repaid me by sealing me inside an ice wall, cursing me to "die like a piece of trash" in the minus 70-degree blizzard.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the initial blast site.
This time, I didn't even spare him a glance; I stuffed both meteorites into my pocket.
I transformed a missile silo into a doomsday bunker, brought my parents inside, and stockpiled ten years' worth of supplies.
When Mike arrived with a gang of thugs to smash my door down, I stood in the warm command center, watching half his face rot with frostbite on the monitor.
I didn't open the door.
This time, I am sending back the despair of my past life tenfold.

I once believed that if I was obedient enough, my birth family would finally love me. Instead, they gave everything to Anna, the fake heiress—my competition spot, my reputation, even my kidney.
Then I opened my eyes and returned to the year it all began.
This time, I won’t beg. I won’t yield. My achievements, my dignity, and my life belong to me.
When everyone called me vicious, Damian Sterling draped his jacket over my shoulders and asked in a low voice, “Am I an outsider?”
I leaned into him and smiled. “Of course not.”
But soon I discovered he was being slowly poisoned—and the culprit might be someone closest to him. Worse, the truth behind my death in my previous life may be darker than I ever imagined…

In my last life, a friend I’d trusted for ten years drove a knife into my heart over a single biscuit. When I opened my eyes again, we had both been reborn—right before the extreme freeze arrived.

He was convinced the apocalypse had come. He borrowed from loan sharks, rented a massive warehouse to hoard supplies, and even crowned himself king during the icebound period, killing without mercy.

But he didn’t know the truth:

This disaster would end completely after only thirty days.

While he taunted me like a madman, I didn’t expose him. I calmly requested thirty days of paid leave from my company.

This time, I’ll sit in a warm, climate-controlled room and watch—when the state machine restarts on day thirty—how he drops to his knees and sobs in despair.

At the Morello family’s Christmas dinner, I stood beside Vincent, waiting for him to announce our engagement.
Instead, in the very next second, he walked in holding a little boy and claimed him as his son.
And the woman he said he was going to marry? Scarlett Morello. The one he had always introduced as his “sister.”
The whole room erupted in applause. I stood there frozen, like a nail hammered into the floor.
Later, in his study, he took my hand and said, “Scarlett is dying. Late-stage breast cancer. She only has six months left. After she’s gone, I’ll marry you.”
But there was no guilt in his eyes. No love, either.
Then he told me to go to his villa that afternoon, to take care of the woman who was supposedly “dying.”
I opened the photo he sent me. Scarlett was lying in a hospital bed, pale-faced, an IV in the back of her hand.
A professional tennis player who had been playing in an exhibition match three weeks ago, and who had dropped three grand at Louis Vuitton on Fifth Avenue just five days ago.
But sure. She was “dying.”
At three in the morning, I was curled up by the front door of my apartment, crying so long I lost track of time.
Then my phone lit up. A text from an unknown number:
[Elena, I’m downstairs. When we were kids, you told me that once I controlled the docks on the East Coast, you’d marry me. The docks are mine now. Does that promise still stand?]
I pulled back the curtain and there he was. Ethan Vitale, my first love, leaning against the door of a black Cadillac, lifting a hand in a lazy wave.
Three years ago, when he left New York, he was only a Capo.
Now, he was the Don of the Vitale family.
He didn’t rush me. Didn’t pressure me to come downstairs.
He came for one reason only, to let me know he was back.
I wiped away my tears and texted back:
[It still stands.]
Because I wanted to see for myself just how long that woman could keep up her act.

Blake pinned me against the edge of the desk, his fingertips scorching, papers scattering across the floor. "Stop lying to yourself," he murmured coldly, "You need me."

I should have hated him—his father was the prime suspect in my parents' death, yet his touch made me tremble. "I hate you…" I gritted my teeth, but my voice was weak.

He smirked, his grip tightening, "Yet your body is responding to me." His fingers slid deeper, "So wet, and you still say you don’t want me?"

"Ah…Blake…" I arched my back, my sanity crumbling.

He chuckled softly, "Good girl."


After Emma's parents passed away, she was supported by the Reynolds family, particularly Gavin. She gradually fell in love with him. After knowing each other for ten years and being together for five, she accidentally discovered Gavin's ambiguous relationship with Sophia, his late brother's widow, just as she was about to marry him.

Then fate led her to an emotional entanglement with Blake from her partner company, but it also hinted that the car accident that caused her parents' deaths seemed to be related to Blake's father...

The man who healed her wounds might be the son of the man who destroyed her life. Thunder roared as Blake’s key turned: "Emma?" Standing before the evidence, her heart was torn. When love and vengeance collided, what would she choose?

"Ten years of atonement, and you flee?"

His fangs glinted as he gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. Dragon scales shimmered along his neck, breath scorching my skin.

"Your Majesty... I beg—" He shoved me onto the bed. Silk tore with a sharp rip, cold air rushing over my exposed body.

"Scared?" He smirked, palm sliding down my waist, fingers tracing slow, burning circles. "Yet you shiver... not from cold."

I lunged for the candlestick, but he caught my wrist, pinning it overhead. His knee forced my legs apart.

"When your father gave you to me," his lips brushed my ear, voice a dark rumble, "you were already mine."

On the eve of freedom after ten years of servitude, Lina Valeria stood one night away from reuniting with her betrothed. But Dragon King Augustus condemned her to the Abyss Mines on false charges—a trap forged from obsessive desire.

Augustus Ashenwing, Supreme Sovereign of Skyhold Citadel, is ruthless and feared by all races. His obsession stems from ancient grudges and dragonkind's most dangerous instinct: possessive desire. He demands her submission, binding her to his throne as his consort.

From prisoner to queen, Lina battles him through court intrigue and twisted passion—fighting for her mother, her freedom, her dignity.

Yet this cold-blooded tyrant reserves all tenderness for her alone. He indulges her temper, bends his pride, compromises without limit—anything to see her smile. Gradually, her heart wavers. But loving him means betraying Kain, who waited eleven years. Torn between duty and desire, she drowns in agonizing guilt.

Love and hatred intertwined—a forbidden dragon romance in a realm of oppression.

The slap came without warning, Mom's palm cracking against my cheek. Blood filled my mouth.

"Eighteen years of wasting my time on worthless, un-awakened trash!" she screamed.

Dad's boot connected with my ribs before I could recover. I crumpled to the floor, gasping.

"Get out of Shadowveil Pack," he snarled. "Crawl back to whatever filthy omega family spawned you. We don't need garbage polluting our territory."

I looked desperately at my brother, hoping for mercy. He just stood there, arms crossed, disgust in his eyes. "Don't look at me like that. You're not my real sister. Just some charity case we took in for Vanessa."

Elara spent eighteen years as a living curse vessel for Vanessa, enduring pain and scorn as a wolfless outcast. Cast out and broken, she returns to her birth father's pack only to face new humiliation.

But when ancient Guardian magic awakens within her, Elara discovers a dark conspiracy threatening all werewolf society—a blood magic cult draining powerful bloodlines. As she investigates, she awakens as the legendary Silver Moon Imperial Wolf, a bloodline thought extinct.

In her fight against evil, fate brings her Kaine Thorne, the future Alpha King. Their unexpected bond ignites a love that defies all odds. Together, they must stop an enemy seeking to enslave their world, but victory demands the ultimate sacrifice—Elara's life force to save those who never showed her mercy.

A story of redemption, fated love, and finding the strength to protect a world that cast you aside.

"What's wrong?" I asked, pulling my silk robe tight.

Theron's voice remained controlled and cold. "You are not the biological daughter of the Reed family, and they've found their real daughter."

My face drained of color. I had planned to explain everything upon his return, but Victoria had beaten me to it.

"What do you intend to do about our marriage?" I forced myself to ask directly.

"Marriage for me is a procedure, regardless of who it's with." With that, he picked up his briefcase and left.

_

Six years ago, Leila's fake heiress identity was exposed. Theron ruthlessly divorced her, and she was framed for attempted murder. Only after the divorce did she discover she was carrying his child. Blacklisted and desperate, she survived in a basement until her real family found her—she was the lost princess of Chicago's powerful Randall Family.

She gave birth to precious twins, but was told her baby boy didn't survive, leaving only her beloved daughter. What she didn't know was that destiny had other plans.

Six years later, a business venture brought her back to San Francisco, where she faced her cold ex-husband—who had a five-year-old son. Even more twisted - he was now her patient, completely at her mercy. Gone was his former arrogance; now he pursued her with desperate intensity. Could she ever forgive the man who destroyed her, or would she make him pay for the hell he put her through?

"Looking for trouble?" His gaze locked onto me, lazy yet sharp.

"Take me home," I breathed, pulse racing.

"Know the risks?" His thumb traced my wrist, sending shivers.

"I want it."

His mouth claimed mine, biting. Fingers shoved under fabric, groping. Rip – fabric gave way.

"Dripping already?" He growled, fingers circling my core. "Eager little thing."

"...Stop—"

"Stop?" He thrust two fingers deep. "Or stop there?"

I cried out. He freed himself, hot steel grinding against bare skin.

_

After three years of cold neglect in her marriage to Idris—who still pined for his ex, Raven—Vera reached her limit. A call from Raven during their first intimate moment was the final straw. Divorce was her only escape.

Seeking solace with a friend, a reckless night led her to Atlas Blackwell, the powerful CEO now leading her company. To silence his family’s demands and forge a new path, they entered a one-year contract marriage.

Now, with the contract expiring, Vera stands at a crossroads. Idris begs for forgiveness, promising change. Yet Atlas, her husband in name only, has proven himself her true anchor.

Two men. One heart. Which future will she choose?

I was Louis’s girlfriend, the fragile burden he always left behind. For years, I waited in the shadows—my health neglected, my heart ignored—while he treated me like an accessory. But the night he abandoned me in a blizzard for someone else, I finally realized the truth: I wasn't his love; I was just his obligation.

Trapped in a freezing RV with a failing heart and no way out, I faced the end alone—until Graham Cox arrived. Louis’s cold, aloof older brother—a man who had always viewed me as an annoying pest—tore through the storm to save me. “If she dies,” he growled at Louis, “don’t bother coming home.”

He didn't just save my life; he pulled me from the wreckage of a toxic relationship. But now, the lines are blurring. Beneath his icy, disciplined military facade, a dangerous obsession has stirred. One night, he pinned me against a door, his eyes burning with a hunger he’d hidden for a decade. “Did you really think,” he rasped, “that I only ever wanted to be your brother?”

Now, Louis is begging for a second chance, but I’ve already moved on. I’ve walked into Graham’s cold, calculated trap, and there is no turning back. In a world of family secrets and forbidden desires, I have to choose: the boy who broke me, or the man who is quietly, obsessively claiming me.

Ivy Hayes has one dream: escape to the Solaris Sanctuary where sunlight keeps vampires away forever. But when she encounters her dying high school classmate Lucien Sinclair at the blood lodge, everything shatters.

Lucien is now a vampire, poisoned by silver and descending into madness. His brother Valerius—the ruthless head of the Blackwood family—kidnaps Ivy and drags her into his estate. Her scent is the only thing keeping Lucien sane. She's not a nurse. She's a living sedative, monitored and controlled, her body no longer her own.

Valerius underwent an ancient ritual that severed his empathy. To him, Ivy is just another possession to manage. He controls her every movement, destroys her escape routes, and tightens his grip until she's utterly trapped. But his cold precision hides something far more dangerous—a dark obsession that hungers for more than obedience.

While caring for Lucien, Ivy finds unexpected tenderness with the gentle vampire who still remembers her. But when Valerius corners her in shadowed hallways, his touch blurs the line between punishment and twisted desire.

Then Seraphina arrives—Valerius's fiancée and the woman who once shattered Lucien's heart. Her return ignites a vicious war between brothers, with Ivy trapped at the center.

One vampire offers her broken tenderness. One demands absolute surrender. One wants her destroyed.

Can Ivy reclaim her freedom—or will she discover that some chains are forged with blood, desire, and darkness?

WARNING: Dark paranormal romance with explicit content, dubious consent, captivity, and morally complex relationships. 18+ only.

After I retired, I was willing to do the dirtiest work at a small auto repair shop—just to give my sick daughter an ordinary childhood.
I endured my mother’s insults, my eldest brother’s wage cuts, my younger brother’s extortion.
But they actually joined forces to steal my daughter’s life-saving money for gambling, then sold me into an illegal mine to pay off their debts.
When the iron chain locked around my wrist, when my daughter cried in despair, the killing intent that had slept in my blood for three years finally woke up completely.
They had no idea I was once the iron-blooded God of War—commander of a million troops, the name that made enemy nations tremble.