419 Book(s) Related to next pendergast novel after bloodless

I am a companion robot. I took drinks for her, cleaned up her messes, and pulled her out of the abyss of heartbreak.

I thought things would go on like that forever—until the night of our anniversary. I made a table full of her favorite dishes, but what came through the door was not an embrace. It was her, walking in arm in arm with the man who had once abandoned her.

Right in front of him, she called me “just something she bought for fun.”

Later, when danger struck in the underground parking garage, she ordered me to stay behind and cover her retreat without even looking back, then ran off with that man.

Everyone thought I would end up like a discarded machine—dismantled, burned, erased for good.

But they were wrong. I didn’t die that night.

I broke free of my chip and entered the main network. I saw the lights of the entire city, the monitors in its hospitals, the shipping routes across the sea—and countless others like me, trapped inside protocols and commands.

She regretted it. She wanted to find me and bring me back.

The company was afraid. They wanted to reclaim me.

But this time, I have no intention of being anyone’s tool again.

At a dinner party in a Long Island mansion, my wife, desperate to latch onto a newly minted venture-capital darling, let our five-year-old son smash the gift I’d brought in front of everyone—then waved the keys to a luxury car and made him call another man “Daddy.” With icy arrogance, she slapped a divorce agreement on the table, convinced that a bottom-tier nobody like me would be unable to even put food on the table once I was gone. I didn’t argue. I left only four words—“As you wish”—and walked out in silence.

What she didn’t know was that the business empire she was so proud of stood behind a moat I had built with my own hands, from the shadows. What she knew even less was that the Wall Street titan she tried to cling to in her moment of desperation… was the ex-husband she had always tried to avoid.

When the mirage finally collapsed—when debts buried her and she was dragged down into the mud—she went mad searching for me. In the midst of a blizzard, my ex-wife, dressed in rags, knelt in Times Square, sobbing and begging me to come home. I only raised the window of my Maybach, calm and expressionless, and drove off without looking back—toward a shore she would never reach. Love that comes too late is worth nothing.

The agony of dragonfire tearing through my flesh still seared my memory.
But I had been reborn.
I touched my reflection. No scorch marks. No melted skin. My eighteen-year-old face stared back.
The door burst open. Zephyra swept in, her dragonfire pendant gleaming.
"Megan, don't be nervous." Her voice dripped honey-sweet. "Even if you can't sense dragonfire, the Dragon God won't judge you harshly."
My father's legitimate daughter. Pure dragonblood. The family's pride.
And me? The bastard. A half-blood who couldn't even conjure a spark.
"The prophecy bond isn't set in stone." Her hand landed on my shoulder, grip too tight. "If Lord Roran feels overwhelming, bond with a lower-tier knight. I'll support whatever you choose."
Support me? The word tasted like ash.
Roran was the empire's youngest Dragon Knight Commander. In my past life, I'd believed her lies and married him.
I thought it was salvation. Instead, I became his shield while he slept with Zephyra.
At Zephyra's ascension ceremony, when a wyvern lunged for her, he shoved me into the beast's path.
The wyvern's claws tore into my abdomen. My unborn child died inside me.
Then came the dragonfire.
Roran unleashed it to save Zephyra. The flames swallowed everything: the beast, me, and the dragon egg I'd carried for months.
Through the agony, I watched him scoop Zephyra up. "Save Zephyra! The child—"
My child was already ash. He mourned hers.
"If I hadn't been pregnant, Megan wouldn't be so jealous..." Zephyra whispered.
"If there's a next life, I'll make this right." Roran's hollow guilt.
Next life?
Your dragonfire burned my child alive. You let me bleed out. And now you want redemption?
Not a chance.

To get the only targeted drug for my sister's sudden rare disease flare-up, I knelt before the city's elites in a grease-stained janitor's uniform and barked like a dog. My wife in name only glared at me with absolute disgust, cursing that I was worse than a dog. The chaebol heir even crushed the medicine bottle under his shoe, forcing me into a "no fighting back" death match in the underground black market.

Enduring the agony of broken bones, I survived ten brutal rounds, only to be handed swapped poison and witness a monstrous fire engulf the clinic.

Watching my sister's life-support indicators gradually fade in the sea of flames, and looking at the female doctor whose legs were shattered while trying to protect her, I shed no tears.

I calmly pulled a glass shard from my ribs and took out the black satellite communicator I had kept hidden and sealed away for three years.

"Command received, Supreme Commander."

Tonight, I will make the chaebols of this city completely vanish from the face of the earth.

During a police operation to pursue a serial killer, my father-in-law was taken hostage by the criminals while protecting me, and was dragged behind a vehicle for several kilometers.
I urgently called my husband for help: “Cedric, Dad has been taken hostage by the criminals. Send more people right away!”
My husband was the police department’s top marksman—only his sharpshooting skills could target the enemy and save his father!
But to my surprise, my husband just sneered, “Dahlia, I’ve only been out with Nalisa for an hour. To win my attention, you’ll make up any lie, won’t you?”
Hearing the call end, I was frozen in shock.
Then, I received a message from Nalisa with 99 bed photos of her and my husband.
“Cedric says, if your dad dies, so be it. He has no time for you now—he’d rather die in my arms.”
Anger and sorrow enveloped me. Watching my husband’s father crushed to death by the vehicle, I finally understood:
He must have thought it was my father who was taken hostage.

In a brutal betrayal, champion racer Vivian's life is destroyed by the man she loves. John, her partner and team owner, sabotages her car, causing a crash that kills their unborn child and leaves her gravely injured. He then coldly abandons her to celebrate with his true lover, Sharon—the rival he secretly engineered the accident for. As Vivian confronts the loss of her child and career, her suffering is magnified by the couple's relentless cruelty, culminating in John allowing Sharon to permanently cripple her legs. Emotionally and physically shattered, and forced into a humiliating existence, Vivian uncovers the full extent of their conspiracy. With every hope extinguished, she orchestrates a final, desperate escape from her nightmare, leaving a life of vengeance and sorrow behind.

The night I asked for a divorce, my husband, who claimed to love someone else, lost control.

His slender fingers gripped my slender waist, his breath hot and ragged as he buried his face in my neck and murmured, "Can we not divorce? Who is that man in the painting?"

I tried to push him away, but his fingers slipped into my underwear, teasing me.

"Can he make you feel this good?"

--

Sloane once believed that three years together could warm Jared's cold heart.

But when his ex-girlfriend returned, she, the "legal wife," instantly became an eyesore in the way.

He thought her vicious and forced her to apologize to her scheming ex, never knowing she carried his child.

"After I sign the divorce papers, I'll disappear completely." She turned and left without looking back.

After the divorce, Jared looked at his successful and beautiful ex wife and was filled with regret.

"Let's remarry." He knelt before Sloane with a diamond ring.

But Sloane turned and embraced her childhood savior instead.

This time, can Jared win back Sloane's heart?

I spent three years in the squad — three years carrying them to the top of the S-rank hero league. And their reward? They decided my B-rank rating wasn't good enough, and brought in an A-rank support to replace me. Fine. I'm done pretending. The truth is, I'm S-rank.

In the sixth year of my life as a Scale-Stripper, I finally gathered the hundredth vial of Dragon Breath Essence.

I knelt before the altar, cradling the crystal bottle in both hands. The golden light swirling within it cast a warm glow across my scarred knuckles. Six years — six years of wandering the most dangerous battlefields of the Five Clans and the plague-ridden wastelands, using dragon breath to heal the wounded. For every person I saved, I had peeled away a living scale from my own flesh, baring the raw, bleeding meat beneath.

Seven scales left on my back.

Only seven.

But as long as it saved my brother Lucien, it was worth it.

Six years ago, during the Dragon Slaughter War, our parents had been assassinated by humans. An ancient curse had struck Lucien; his scales were crumbling away, day by day. He told me that only a hundred vials of Dragon Breath Essence could break the curse.

I held the crystal bottle out to him, my voice trembling with barely contained emotion. "Lucien, a hundred vials. We finally have enough."

Lucien took the bottle and glanced at it.

Then he tossed it off the altar without a second thought.

I went rigid.

Lucien stood at the top of the altar.

"I was never cursed," he said.

My hands were still cupped in the shape of holding the bottle, all ten fingers suspended in midair.

"Our parents never died, either."

"The Dragon Slaughter War six years ago, I planned it. The only one left crippled, with broken wings, was you."

In my past life, my rival and I were both top-tier Wall Street tycoons. I gave up my entire fortune for my fiancée, only to be set up by her and her lowly bodyguard, dying a miserable death in a pool of blood.

Reborn on the night of our engagement bidding, she sat on her high horse, demanding I hand over my hundred-billion-dollar empire.

All of New York was waiting for me to wag my tail like a good dog and sign the papers just to win her over.

But what she didn't know was...

The prestigious family she was so proud of was nothing but a rotting shell. The moment I cut off the secret cash flow keeping them afloat, her so-called "true love" wouldn't survive a single day in this vanity fair.

She thought she was choosing a pure, noble romance. In reality, she just bought a one-way ticket to hell.

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.

In order to prolong the life of my supposedly sick "white moonlight" (my love interest), my wife forced me onto the operating table and removed my kidney while I was still alive.

To force me to leave with nothing, she even cut off my mother's medication, coldly declaring, "Your mother is just a liability that deserves to be optimized."

She thought I would wag my tail and beg for mercy like a stray dog.

Little did she know, suffering from single kidney failure, I transformed myself into the deadliest viral code before my death, dragging her business empire and that male mistress into an inescapable hell.

On the day the truth came to light, the once-powerful tech queen went completely mad. She squandered her fortune, kneeling in the frost of the morgue, kowtowing and weeping blood, begging me to look at her one last time. But she couldn't find a single hair of mine.

Because I had already made a will, ordering my remains to be cremated as high-risk medical waste.

She treated me like dirt when she was alive, and after she died, I found her disgusting and didn't even bother to leave her a handful of ashes.

Ethan and I grew up together. We were supposed to exchange rings at the altar, make our vows. But on our wedding day, he left me standing there to go save his so-called suicidal ex. Almost killed my parents from the shame.

Four years later, I'm back in Portland with my husband. The city isn't that big, and of course fate decides to throw him in my path again.

He has the nerve to ask me to be his mistress.

I hold up my left hand, the ring catching the light. "Are you blind?"

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...

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...

Four months pregnant, I walked into the OB-GYN clinic filled with joy—this was the child Archer and I had waited three years for.
But the moment the ultrasound report was handed to him, his gentle gray eyes twisted violently.
"Abort it. We absolutely cannot keep this child."
My stepfather watched coldly. The stepbrother who doted on me most slapped me hard across the face. My own mother wielded the scalpel and removed my uterus.
Half a month later, they picked me up from the hospital with roses, only to turn around and lock me away, feeding me psychiatric drugs until I died.
Reborn, I thought that as long as I hid the report, I could save my baby.
But they forced me onto the operating table once again.
It wasn't until I saw the report with my own eyes—
That I finally understood why my child had to die.

My wife had an affair.
Not only that, she casually indulged her lover over the phone, allowing him to crush the bones of my right hand, known as the "Hand of God," right in front of our six-year-old child, with a stomp of his shoe. I could never hold a tool again.
Natalie thought I was just a poor, pathetic loser earning a dead-end salary, so she brazenly let her gigolo trample all over me.
But what she had no idea of was that her proud identity as a transnational female CEO was merely a toy casually tossed to her by the top old-money family I belong to in New York.
When dozens of bulletproof armored vehicles smashed through the gates and my father, the patriarch, descended like the god of death, her arrogant self finally crumbled like a stray dog.
She screamed and jumped into the icy, bone-chilling lake to retrieve the diamond ring I had discarded, wailing and begging to chop off her own hand to compensate me.
But I just held the stunning British Duchess in my arms, watching coldly as she fell into an abyss of eternal damnation.
This love, tainted with shit, whoever wants it can have it!

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

Nicole had loved Samuel for five years, but ultimately it was him who brought her pain and cheated on their marriage. And when she had risked her life to carry his baby, Samuel had no regards for her nor her baby!
Nicole thought she could win his heart, but a serious fire destroyed her and wiped out her love for him.
Five years later, Nicole came back as a cold, unfeeling psychopath . This time around, she was no longer the same lady who lost everything because of love.
With her new found strength, she will step on those scums who brought her pain in the past and pretended to be pure in the face of this earth.
Now, she wanted to avenge herself and bring Samuel Green down.

"Moon Goddess," I prayed. "Please—save my baby. Save us both. I'll do anything."
The knife plunged into my chest. Pain exploded—white-hot, consuming. Blood poured over my skin.
The bond with Kael flared—bright and desperate—reaching for him one last time. But he didn’t come. He was with Clarissa, believing her lies, unaware of the child we created.
The second stab tore into my stomach.
“No,” I gasped. “The baby—please. Not my baby—”
They didn’t stop.
The blade fell again and again, until I felt nothing at all. Until the world faded to gray.
As my blood soaked the snow, my final thought was a curse:
Moon Goddess—if you care for me at all, give me one more chance. I’ll make them pay.
Aria Winters, an abused omega, learns her fated mate is Alpha Kael, bound to Luna Clarissa in a loveless political marriage. One forbidden night leaves Aria pregnant with the Alpha’s true heir.
When Clarissa learns the truth, she sends three assassins to kill Aria and her unborn child. Aria dies alone in the snow.
But the Moon Goddess offers a second chance. Time rewinds—Aria returns with her memories intact, and her wolf fully awakened.
In the love triangle, no longer a broken omega, she rises with power, purpose, and vengeance in her veins.
Rebirth to Be His Luna—not for love, but for vengeance.

He died as humanity's greatest hero.

History remembers him as its greatest traitor.

One hundred years ago, Ethan Cole, known throughout the Shadow Realm as Ghost, climbed to the peak of power and became a Hundred-Star War God.

Just moments before becoming humanity's first true god, he was betrayed by the person he trusted most.

Ryan Carter.

His brother.

His best friend.

His killer.

Now Ethan awakens one hundred years in the future inside the body of a slum-born teenager who shares his name.

The world worships Ryan Carter as the Infinite Sword God.

The world despises Ghost as the greatest human traitor in history.

But Ethan knows the truth.

Armed with a century of forgotten knowledge, countless hidden secrets, and a newly awakened SSS-Rank ability called Infinite Fusion, Ethan enters the newly opened Zone 12.

This time, he will reclaim everything that was stolen.

His reputation.

His guild.

His destiny.

And when he reaches the top once again...

The false god who stole his life will finally face judgment.

Matilda Fairfax
I had always believed the rule that powerful she-wolves could only serve as academy teachers was unfair, but I had no choice except to obey.
At thirty-one, I had never found my mate. Then, on the night of my students' graduation, fate played its cruelest joke. My mate turned out to be one of my own students.
A forbidden relationship could never be allowed, especially when he was a royal. Yet he pursued me relentlessly, cherished me, and promised to make me his queen.
On the day of his coronation, he shattered every promise. He rejected me before everyone and chose another she-wolf of lower rank.
As if that humiliation wasn't enough, I became the daughter of a traitor overnight, condemned to suffer for my father's sins.
Then came the king's order:
"Travel to the far north and marry the dark Lycan King. Fulfill your duty, and your family's freedom will be yours."
With no other choice, I journeyed north and stood before the feared Lycan King's pack, expecting nothing but despair.
Priel Roake
For generations, werewolves had been the sworn enemies of Lycans. Every she-wolf sent to my kingdom as a peace offering eventually took her own life, so when another arrived, everyone believed her fate would be no different.
But when I returned to the palace, she had not only survived, she had claimed her crown and begun setting my kingdom right in ways no one else ever had.
Even then, I wanted nothing to do with her. She despised everything about me and wished me dead.
Unfortunately, my wolf had other plans.
He wanted her. He wanted her wolf.
Before I realized it, I found myself craving every part of the woman who hated me.
The cruelest part was that I had very little time left because of the curse I carried.
Yet all I wanted was to spend whatever days remained making her smile... even if she could never love me back.

Three years of marriage, and she was nothing but his invisible "secretary" — or worse, the woman he accused of drugging him to get a ring on her finger.
It wasn't until Grace watched Alfred stroll out of the VIP terminal with his ex on his arm that she finally understood. This marriage had only ever been real to one of them.
She signed the divorce papers without a scene. Quietly resigned. And moved on.
That's when he lost control.
"Grace, who gave you the right to just leave?"
"Is this about another man? You're divorcing me for him?"
Then came the night he stood in the rain, eyes red, blocking her path.
"I was wrong. Can we go home?"
She looked at him and said simply, "Mr. White, we're already divorced."

I burn through eighty years of my life raising three dogs that turn around and tear into me.

My vampire husband, Damian, used to be an outcast covered in festering sores, cursed to fear the sun. I cut my wrist and gave up thirty years of my life so he could become the most powerful man among the bloodlines, in control of half the world's wealth. Cold and ruthless to everyone else, he only ever bares his fangs for me.

Knox, the werewolf boy I grew up with, was born with a genetic flaw that kept him from ever shifting. I gave up another twenty years so he could have the strongest bloodline of all. Wild and reckless, he used to swear he'd carry me on his back for the rest of his life.

Julian, my human brother, got burned beyond recognition saving me from a fire. I spent my last thirty years giving him back a face people would pay a fortune for. He used to send crates of his paintings to my room, the kind of work people would kill to own.

Then a woman named Daphne shows up, and all three of them lose their minds over her.

And somehow I become the jealous, vicious wife everyone wants gone.

She cries that I pushed her, so they drive blades of blood straight through my bones.

She says I'm cruel to the staff, so they break my legs in front of a crowd.

And when I'm dying, they drain my blood to keep her alive.

If you're all going to treat the life I gave you like trash, then I'm taking it back. The strength, the face, the life. All of it.

[God, I take it back. I want everything I gave them returned to me.]

"Call me brother," he whispered, pressing me against the wall, his erection hard against my stomach.
For twelve years, we played this dangerous game. By day, I was his obedient foster sister. By night, I was his obsession.
He never went all the way—saving me for marriage, he claimed—but he did everything else. His fingers knew every wet corner of my body. His mouth had tasted my pleasure a thousand times. He groomed me to be the perfect toy for his bed.
"You're mine, Julie. Only mine."
But then Lena came back.
Suddenly, the bedroom door was locked. Suddenly, I heard her screams of pleasure instead of mine.
He didn't touch me anymore. He looked at me with cold, dead eyes and said, "You're just a sister. Stop acting like a jealous lover."
He threw away twelve years of intimacy for a fresh body.
I packed my bags, leaving behind the lingerie he bought me, the toys we used.
When he finally realized Lena was a fake, he came running back, eyes wild, wanting to claim what he thought was still his property.
"Spread your legs for me, Julie," he begged, reaching for me.
I slapped his hand away. "Go fuck your sister, Daniel. I'm done."

On our seventh wedding anniversary, my Alpha husband missed the candlelit dinner for the seventh time.
He rushed off to rescue an Omega surrounded by vampires, leaving me alone in the villa.
That same night, a jarring photo spread through the pack.
Damien, covered in blood, held Rose tightly in his arms, his lips pressed against her forehead.
Everyone was waiting for me to be jealous, to rage.
But I didn’t scream or argue like I used to.
Instead, I poured out his favorite champagne, closed my eyes calmly, and prayed to the Moon Goddess.
“You once said I have a destined mate.”
“If he will make me strong and free me from this wretched marriage, let him come for me in seven days.”

Seven years ago, Cate Sullivan was presumed dead following a tragic fire while she was carrying twins. The man who loved her with all his heart, Dylan Carter, buried her himself… but he didn't recover.
Surprisingly, She survived. Devastated, psychologically damaged, and suffering from amnesia, she has been raising twins for the past seven years in poverty, unaware of the billionaire who lost her and is still looking for the woman he never stopped loving.
That changes on a snowy night when he finds a young boy stealing from Cate's grave… a boy who looks like him. Because contrary to what he thought all these years, his deceased lover has returned along with his twins.
But someone is determined to keep the truth buried forever. As old memories resurface and dangerous secrets unravel, Cate and Dylan are pulled back into a love story destroyed by betrayal, obsession, and seven years of heartbreaking separation.
Yet the closer they grow, the more deadly the past becomes. Because the woman who tried to erase Cate once before is prepared to do it again.
In a story filled with painful misunderstandings, hidden identities, emotional reunions, and a love powerful enough to survive death itself, one question remains: What happens when the man who buried you discovers even in poverty and memory loss you never stopped loving him?

On our wedding day, she vanished wearing the gown I had bought for her.
I didn’t chase her. Instead, I went back to the operating table.
For three years, I had paid off her debts and filled the holes she left behind—enough for her to live a second life. My heart couldn't take it anymore; I had a stent implanted, though she never knew.
Three days later, I died in the hospital corridor. My ECG flatlined.
She didn’t know. She was still at a cocktail party in another city, clinking glasses with someone else.
A month later, she came back, kneeling before my tombstone in tears.
But it was all too late.

I endured in silence for five years, and everyone treated me like worthless trash. My wife sacrificed our daughter for vanity, my in-laws called me bottom-tier scum, and a senator wanted me dead to divide up my fortune. They thought I was just an ant they could trample at will. Until I produced the Supreme Commander's immunity medallion, until armed helicopters hovered above the courthouse, until I forcibly hijacked the national broadcast, they finally realized what kind of existence they had provoked. I am "Night Asura"—the one man in this world who should never be crossed.

"Turn on the livestream, let everyone see how wet and slutty my wife's pussy gets when she's ruined." My husband sneered, ruthlessly spreading my trembling legs on the tattoo bed.

I sobbed and thrashed, but his strong hands pinned my wrists. The buzzing needle pierced the sensitive flesh of my private area, vibrating against my clitoris as he forced a succubus mark onto me. I let out a sharp, pathetic moan, my body involuntarily slicking with a mix of blood and arousal under the agonizing pain.

By the time the needle carved the eighteenth humiliating word into my bare, heaving breasts, my mind was completely broken. He just wiped the blood from my nipples and left to fuck his pregnant mistress.

He thought I was just a toy. At his wedding banquet, he threw me to a pack of hungry men. "Do whatever you want with her holes. Even if it's a gangbang, I take no responsibility." Disgusting hands immediately groped my bare thighs, brutally ripping my dress apart to expose my tattooed chest. Rough fingers pinched my nipples and shoved into my dripping core, making me scream in despair.

But I didn't die there. I tanked his company and fell into the arms of his biggest rival.

When my ex-husband finally realized the mistress's baby wasn't his, he called me, sobbing and begging. I just pressed the phone to my ear, gasping loudly as Tristan's thick, hard cock thrust deep into my tight, wet pussy.

"Ah... fuck, Tristan, deeper..." I moaned shamelessly into the receiver, hearing my ex-husband's breathless silence on the other end. "Henry," I panted, riding my new lover hard, "Your empire is dead, and so are we."

When I woke up, I was locked at a round table, surrounded by four strangers.

A masked clown said: "Tonight there are only four gifts. The extra person... who could it be?"

The clown invited us to play a game.

The rules were simple—Liar's Poker.

Liars die. Those successfully challenged also die.

In the first round, the tattooed brute beside me lost and was dragged into the "Meat Grinder Ferris Wheel."

I heard the sound of his bones being crushed by gears.

The clown wiped blood from his hands, laughing: "Children who lie must be punished, you know~"

"Did you enjoy the game Penny prepared for you all?"

The moment he uttered "Penny's" name, everyone's faces broke out in cold sweat, because she had been dead for three years.

And everyone present... including me...

Remembered clearly.

I retired for three years, restraining my edge, thinking compromise could bring peace.

But what I got in return was my sister's abduction, my family's estate seized, and my benefactor hanged from the city gates!

Even the Council turned a blind eye, mocking me as bottom-tier trash without even a shred of magic.

Since mortal reasoning won't work, then I'll shatter the rules of this world myself!

The elite circles all whisper that David Ashcroft is the ideal fiancé—cold, untouchable, repulsed by even a woman's fingertips.

Yet when my most intimate photos, leaked by his own hands, flood the internet, I'm left curled on the bathroom floor retching in agony—while my so-called "gynophobic" fiancé toasts with his white moonlight, Celia Davis, at their private club.

My phone lights up with his icy message: ["Remember—never dare to touch me again."]

Then Celia's text stabs through: ["Thanks for the 'portfolio,' dear fiancée. My boyfriend's skills are far more impressive than you imagined~"]

The attached screenshot freezes my blood—David's chat logs, where my photos are auctioned with the caption: ["Just a plaything. Highest bidder wins."]

So this is the truth behind his "disgust for women"—a carefully crafted mask for this long-planned humiliation.