426 Book(s) Related to on line kora

My brother's first day on the job, and the new intern, Ashley Pratt, accuses him of trying something with her in the break room.

In my last life, I panicked under all those judging stares and my father screaming at me over the phone. I grabbed my brother by the shoulder and forced him to bow and apologize to her, tried to pay her off to make it go away.

She turned around and leaked the wire transfer online instead, twisted it into a story about rich people paying to buy back their good name. The backlash spiraled out of control. My brother couldn't take the flood of hate anymore and jumped from the roof. He hit the ground and there was nothing left of him to recognize.

My father used my failure to handle it as an excuse to push me off the board. I ended up watching the woman responsible climb over my brother's grave and take the CEO seat at Merritt Industries.

Fate is giving me a second shot.

My brother reaches for me, eyes rimmed red. "Camille, I swear I didn't do anything."

I pull him behind me and look down at the woman crying on the floor.

"She's saying you assaulted her? Fine. Let's call the cops."

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

Lydia's POV

"The patient in Bed 7 has been here three months now, right? Not a single family visit."

"Her husband just pays the bills and leaves. Doesn't even look at her. Poor thing."

I lay in the hospital bed, listening to two nurses whispering outside my door. My fingers rested weakly against the edge of the mattress.

Three months ago, I was diagnosed with late-stage cancer.

My husband, Sebastian Carter, came once. He stood in the doorway—didn't step inside—signed the papers with a blank expression, and never came back.

Sebastian was a writer. He locked himself in his study all day, leaving me to spend night after night alone in the living room. We lived under the same roof like strangers from different worlds.

I'd grown used to this hollow marriage. I didn't even bother calling him anymore.

Footsteps echoed outside.

I turned my head toward the door. Sebastian stood there in his familiar charcoal coat, his face expressionless.

"You came." I was surprised. I forced myself to sit up, my body weak and trembling.

Sebastian didn't answer. He walked straight to the bedside and set a document on the nightstand. "Sign it."

I picked it up. The words at the top read: 'Divorce Agreement.'

"I need an accident—one that looks fatal," I said calmly into the encrypted phone. "It's the only way to escape him."
Rumors swirl that this man—the underworld boss who controls half of Europe’s shadow economy—loves me beyond reason.
They say he defied his entire family for me. That this ruthless killer laid down his weapons just to cook me a meal.
For years, he made the world believe I was his one weakness—and even I almost believed it.
But instinct in a life-or-death moment doesn’t lie.
When bullets shattered the car window, he yanked the steering wheel on reflex—shielding my adopted sister in the passenger seat while leaving me, his wife, fully exposed to the hail of gunfire.
As I lay bleeding, desperately trying to protect our unborn child… he was busy cradling her in his arms.
While I endured everything for our future, he signed over the estate—the one he promised would be our retire place—to that lying sister.
That’s when I knew: some loves are just performances for the living.
So I gave him exactly what he wanted.
I left behind a positive pregnancy test—six weeks along—and drove straight into the deep ocean, staging the most brutal finale right before his eyes.

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.

On our wedding night, my wife said to me: "Lucas's family needs an heir, and I've agreed to carry one for them."
Seeing me trembling all over, she gently cupped my face and added softly: "It's just IVF—a way to repay their kindness. The entire process is medical, with no physical contact at all. Once the baby is born and the debt is settled, I'll have as many children with you as you want, okay?"
For the sake of our ten years of love and the debt of gratitude we owed, I gritted my teeth and agreed.
Until three months later, when I found her lying naked on our wedding bed, frantically making love with Lucas.

"You were like a starved beast last night," I complained, spreading jam on my toast.
Gideon's hands froze mid-knot on his tie. He turned to me, his eyes filled with utter bewilderment.
"Nadia, are you out of your mind? I was in the study finishing up that proposal last night. I crashed on the couch at three in the morning. I never even went into the bedroom."
The knife dropped from my hand onto the table.
If the man I made love to all night wasn't my husband.
Then... who was it?

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

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

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

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

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

I jumped from the church balcony.

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

This time, I said yes.

Dante, from now on, we're done.

It was the kind of cold that seeped into your bones.
In my past life, I was locked in the abandoned freezer beneath St. Jude Preparatory Academy.
Outside the door stood my biological brother Spencer, along with Landon—my boyfriend of three years. And between them, wearing Landon's oversized football jacket, was my stepsister Lacey.
"Blythe, just admit you bullied me. Post an apology video to the whole school, and Spencer will let you out." Lacey's voice trembled, fake tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.
Spencer's voice cut through the metal door like ice:
"Blythe, you brought this on yourself. You've been terrorizing Lacey at school, pushed her to the edge. Maybe some time in there will teach you what decency looks like."
Landon's voice dripped with disappointment: "Jesus, Blythe. I thought I knew you. This isn't who you are."
I pounded on the iron door until my fists were raw, screaming until my voice gave out.
I told them the truth—that I never touched Lacey. That she was the one forcing girls to their knees in the bathroom. That she stole my exam. That every shred of "evidence" was manufactured.
No one believed me.
I froze to death in that sub-zero hellhole.
As the cold claimed me, staring at my blue-purple fingers, all I felt was pure, burning hate.
Then I opened my eyes again—back to the day it all began.

She begged her mother for $50,000 to save her daughter's life.
Her mother had it—but chose to spend $300,000 on her younger sister's wedding instead.
That was the day Evelyn walked out. No more pleading. No more coming back.
Her husband sold his father's last heirloom. Their neighbors emptied their wallets. They saved her daughter and left for a new life.
A year later, her mother's money was gone. The fraud was exposed. The mansion was seized. The calls started coming—calls begging for help, for money, for forgiveness.
Evelyn listened, then hung up.
She is not going back. Not for guilt, not for blood. The family that let her daughter die does not get to ask her for anything.

BLURB

For four years, Avrielle lived in a gilded cage of gratitude, cherished by a husband who stayed by her side after a tragic accident left her paralyzed. She believed she was a beloved wife—until she found the diary. Inside were the jagged words of a man trapped by guilt, dreaming of a divorce and the woman he truly loved.

Now, Avrielle has twenty-four hours to play the part of the happy bride one last time. While Kayden performs a mask of devotion, she is orchestrating a silent escape that will strip him of everything. But as the clock ticks down to her flight to Switzerland, the lines between her revenge and her lingering love begin to blur.

What if all she believed in was a lie... What if she caused her own destruction?

I found the thirteenth piece of evidence of Reid's affair today.

Black lace panties, shoved deep between his car seats.

The first time, it was designer lipstick in his glove box. "Oh, that's mine," my friend Mia shrugged. "Must've fallen out when Reid gave me a ride."

The sixth time, a hotel key card in his console. "I borrowed his car for a business trip," my brother Owen explained calmly. "Stop being so paranoid, Nadia."

Thirteen times. Thirteen perfect excuses.

When I confront Reid with the panties, he just makes a phone call.

On speaker, Mia and Owen claim the underwear is theirs—some late-night hookup in my fiancé's back seat. "You're being ridiculous, Nadia," they snap in unison. "You're getting married. Start acting like it. Trust him."

I watch Reid's face, that innocent mask he wears so well.

Then I smile.

Because I bought those panties myself. I planted them there.

And now I finally know who's been his accomplice all along.

I once thought that marrying Gabriel was my redemption in a time of despair, but little did I know, it was an eight-year-long hellish scam.
On the day of the wedding, my fiancé abandoned me for Lily, and during the pursuit, my parents were involved in a car accident — one dead and one severely injured.
It was him — Don Gabriel of the mafia family, who used his influence to send my mother to the best hospital, personally performing her surgery, but couldn't save her.
In the hospital, he publicly proposed, saying he would protect me for life, and I, desperate, agreed, clinging to it like a lifeline.
For eight years after marriage, every month, he used a syringe the size of a baby’s arm to draw my blood, saying that my blood type was rare and was being stored as an emergency reserve.
Even though I became weak and sick, I foolishly believed this was his care.
Until I became pregnant, joyfully sharing the good news, only to overhear his conversation in his study on Christmas Eve: The car ac

This story is about a young girl trying to find her way out from under her mothers roof and away from her pimp. She is still a high school student who is just trying to survive under the same roof as her mother and her mothers pimp. All she was is to continue to be invisible, but her body and her mothers pimp are determined to break her every step of the way.

The hum gets louder and my whole body responds to the sound of it before he's done anything else. He watches my face change and his mouth curves. "That bad already?" He grins as he pulls it out with a plop. "Shut up." I fired, while swallowing. "Not a chance." He brings it close enough that I can feel the vibration in the air between us before it touches my skin. "Spread your legs princess." "This is the farthest they can go." I cried. "Are you sure?" He doesn't break eye contact as he drags the toy slowly down my stomach, not turning it on against me yet, just letting me feel the buzz of it as it crosses my hip bone and the inside of my thigh and then traces back up. By the time it reaches where I want it I'm shaking and he hasn't even pressed it down. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Rule one of surviving a vampire court: don't fall for the king who owns you. Ryn is breaking it spectacularly. She has a curse in her blood, a countdown on her life, and two impossibly dangerous men circling her like she's the last warm thing in a cold world. The court wants her dead. The throne wants her gone. And the one secret that could save her is the one nobody will say out loud. Six months to live. One contract she can't escape. And a choice that's going to cost her everything she came here to protect.

After being reborn, the first thing my sister and I did was swap our grooms.
In our past life, my gentle sister Elara married Felix Hawthorne, the mafia godfather of Marconi City. Surrounded by a domineering sister-in-law and a scheming, manipulative other woman, she was slowly driven into a corner and died of a broken heart.
Meanwhile, I married the polite, illegitimate son of the Graves family. He was a perfect gentleman, but he just didn't love me. Our marriage lasted three years, and we were separated for two and a half of them.
Then one day, Elara and I woke up at the exact same moment—we had been reborn, back to the very morning we were supposed to sign our marriage agreements...

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

She never saw it coming. After five years of marriage, it took a DNA test to blow everything up.

The son she raised from birth? Her husband's kid with his ex. And somehow, both of them knew the whole time and said nothing.

It gets worse. She overheard her husband's actual plan: wait for the ex to come back, then push her out of the company "nicely" and hand her five million as a goodbye gift.

Five million? She single-handedly kept that company alive, pouring in her own money and connections to clean up his messes. And that's all she's worth?

She was done. She wanted everything back that was hers.

The ungrateful kid? She's over it. The husband chasing his first love? Good riddance.

But the moment she walked away for real, both of them came running back.

"Baby, please. Just give me one more chance."

She didn't even look up.

In her past life, Serena stopped her brother's kidney donation and bore the blame for every family heartbreak that followed.
Reborn, she watches him willingly throw away his promising basketball career to save his lover—and she walks away.
When fate abandons her brother and her family tears itself apart, Serena carves out a brilliant, unapologetic life for herself.

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

My wife was forced to don a wedding dress to marry my sworn enemy, while my three-year-old daughter was locked in an iron cage suspended above the raging sea.

And I, the dignified Commander-in-Chief of the Blackwater Fleet, was forced to wear a dog collar, kneeling on broken glass and licking up red wine like a crippled stray dog.
All because embedded in their necks were biological bombs, the detonator held in the hands of my enemy.

The elites of the entire island ruthlessly mocked my cowardice, trampling me underfoot in ultimate humiliation.

That was until the climax of the maritime wedding, when my enemy smugly pressed the detonator, only for the collars to flash a safe green light—the full-frequency signal decryption was complete.
Amidst the dead silence of the crowd, I snapped the forged steel chains binding me and slowly stood tall.

The next second, ten nuclear-powered submarines violently breached the ocean surface, and tens of thousands of heavily armored death squads descended from the sky.

Looking at my enemy, now terrified to the point of incontinence and shattering his own knees to frantically kowtow and beg for mercy, I picked up that very dog chain and slipped it around his neck.

At Thornfield Academy, power wears a perfect smile.
Old money. Legacy names. Students raised to rule the world before they even graduate. They call themselves untouchable. They call themselves saints.

They’re lying.

Jordan is not supposed to exist here. Not under this name. Not in this body. Disguised as James Blake, she’s hiding in plain sight, buried inside a school built on secrets, privilege, and rot. One wrong move and everything unravels. Her past. Her identity. The truth about the blood she left behind.

But Thornfield is not just another elite academy.

The students are watching. Testing. Hunting for weakness.

The pretty sinners who break people for fun.
The dirty saints who pretend they’re innocent.

And then there’s Teddy Phillips. Too kind for a place like this. Too close for comfort.

Then there's the captain of the Soccer team. The only one who might see through her before she’s ready.

Because Jordan did not come here just to survive.

She came here because Thornfield is hiding something.

And if she is right, the lies buried in these halls are worth killing for.

In a school where legacy is everything, the truth is the most dangerous thing of all.

I was doted to the bone by the mafia heir, Ethan — he took bullets for me, endured 99 lashes, and promised to take me to see the Southern Sea that never freezes!
But he let Ashley get pregnant with his child.
He accused me of causing Elara’s pollen allergy, and even gave the only keepsake left by my mother — a bracelet — to Ashley as an apology.
He said, "It’s just a bracelet."

During an argument, he shoved me down, causing my head to bleed, yet he rushed to the hospital with Ashley, not even bothering to look back at me.
I lay in the hospital getting stitches, and his suit still carried Ashley’s perfume. He yelled at me, "You followed me to the hospital to cause trouble!" My heart shattered, yet he still lied to me, "I only love you. After this fake wedding, I’ll take you away!"

For most, anime is just a hobby. For others, it is a sanctuary—the only escape from a harsh, disappointing, and often depressing reality. This is the story of a devoted fan, a "Shut-in NEET" who has turned their back on the real world to find life and meaning in the stories of 2D characters, manga, and games.
​But the lines between fiction and reality are about to vanish forever.

​When a mysterious Angel appears with a divine decree, our protagonist is plucked from their room and thrust into a literal Fantasy World. This isn't just a dream come true; it is a Mission. Given a second chance to truly live, they must now navigate a land filled with magic, peril, and wonder—armed only with the knowledge of countless anime tropes and a will to survive.
​Can a person who spent their life hiding in stories finally become the hero of their own? In a world where the stakes are real and the magic is dangerous, the ultimate challenge isn't just completing the mission—it’s learning how to finally belong.

​The story follows the life of a dedicated Anime fan (an Otaku) who feels disconnected from the harsh realities of the real world. Seeking an escape from depression and personal problems, the protagonist finds solace in anime and dreams of experiencing magical or extraordinary events. It explores the psychological boundary between fiction and reality, reflecting on people who isolate themselves to live within their imagination

~ARJUN KASHYAP, 28 years Old, Co Owner of K&K CORPORATION, a multi billionaire company of India, A new emerging face among the herd of top Businessman of the World.

A VIRGIN BEAST. No one can double cross him. Who hates women around him But loose his Beastly heart to a Broken BEAUTY whom he loves to call JAAN (Life)..

PASHIKA SINHA, a 22 years old, A struggling and broken BEAUTY who is fighting with the Cruelty and the double standard of the world, unknowingly created a havoc in BEAST's life.

ARJUN: "You are Mine and I am Yours JAAN"

PASHIKA: "I am no one to you so stay away from me, You BEAST"

For ARJUN, it's Love at first sight but for PASHIKA, its Hate at first sight.

Two different souls from two different world clashed and their unconditional love with unexpected twists and turns reveals hidden truth and so many secrets from the past.

A complete roller coaster ride of BEAUTY and the BEAST.

....

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.

My best friend Bella had a cluster of mushrooms growing on her back, every color you could imagine.

They throbbed like something alive, and the smell coming off them was like nothing I'd ever smelled.

She called it Moonlight Bloom, a gift straight from Viscount Lucas himself.

If she kept that thing on her body for forty days, not one more, not one less, until it bloomed its brightest spores, the viscount would marry her and take her into his estate.

So she refused to shower. Wouldn't let a drop of water touch her.

Everyone in the pack knew me as the one who always looked out for people, and I figured she'd been cursed with dark magic. So one night while she slept, I grabbed a bucket of soapy water and a stiff brush and scrubbed that thing clean off her back.

The next morning, she ran her hand over the raw patch of skin where it used to be, grabbed a silver dagger, and drove it straight through my heart.

"You jealous bitch! You just ruined my whole future!"

Bleeding out on the floor, that's when it hit me. She never cared how disgusting that thing was, or what it was doing to her body. All she cared about was marrying into money and status.

When I opened my eyes again, I'd gone back in time.

This time around, I decided I wasn't going to stick my nose where it didn't belong. I was going to sit back and watch that mushroom grow.

The luxury cruise ship in the high seas had become a floating steel coffin for the beautiful CEO and me.
Just a door away, the corridor was teeming with slithering, tentacled Mimics. The wet, crunching sounds of them chewing on raw flesh were enough to make anyone’s scalp go numb.
Inside the pitch-black storage cabin—measuring barely three square meters—the usually aloof and untouchable Ice Queen of the corporate world was so terrified she had her flawless body pressed desperately against my chest.
In this extreme claustrophobia, her scalding body heat generated a fierce friction against me in the face of absolute despair.
"Keep me alive. Everything I have... is yours."

For Joey, I shouldered the blame for a commercial crime and survived five years behind bars—alone, even through a miscarriage.

With only five days left on my sentence, his secretary flaunted a “bonus” transfer from him—521,314—and when I left one mild comment, she blocked me.

I got released early on Christmas, wanting to surprise my husband. Instead, I pushed open our bedroom door and found Joey and Betty in our marital bed, deep in their sick little games.

And then I overheard a phone call that shattered everything: my little sister, Sansa, hadn’t died from a surgical “accident” at all. Joey had bribed the surgeon and had her heart cut out—so his mistress could gain a werewolf’s healing ability and keep having some perverted sex on bed.

He lied to me, used me, murdered my sister—and still mocked me for I was nothing without him.

What he doesn’t know is that I’m the daughter of an Alpha. I cut my family off for him once. Now I’m taking everything back—divorce, vengeance, and a rec

I’m Wren, hidden sole heir of Ravenwood Pack, living as a regular lone wolf at wolf academy. My roommate Brielle steals my exclusive pine pheromone, copies my relics, steals my elite quota and tricks my betrothed Alpha Kane with a fake royal identity. I challenge her to present the unforgeable Lunar Pearl at the ball. When my father, the pack Alpha, exposes her family’s theft, I reject the misled Kane and reclaim everything the imposter stole from me.

She was his fated mate... until his first love came back.
On the eve of her wedding to Alpha Liam, Avery's world shatters when Riley returns - the adopted sister who stole her childhood, her parents' love, and now threatens to steal her future. The same Riley who left her for dead five years ago.
But history repeats itself.
As the pack chooses Riley's side again, Avery makes her decision: she won't beg for scraps of love anymore. Not from parents who replaced her. Not from a mate who hesitates. She'll walk away from Frostveil Pack and build a life where she comes first.
There's just one problem...
Now that she's leaving, everyone suddenly remembers she exists. Liam fights to claim his mate. Her parents beg for forgiveness. Even Riley plays the victim.
But a heart broken too many times doesn't heal easily.
Will Avery give them one last chance?
Or will their betrayal cost them the Luna they took for granted?

A fake relationship full of forbidden heat . . .

Emilia Torres has everything she's ever wanted. After years of struggling to become an actress, she's finally caught her big break - a part opposite the hottest star in Hollywood, the gorgeous and charming Luca Fontaine.

But her biggest role might be the one she plays off-screen, where she and Luca pretend to be in love.

The rules for their relationship are simple: in front of the paparazzi, they play the perfect Hollywood couple. In private, their contract states that all feelings - and sex - are absolutely forbidden.

It's the perfect publicity stunt - until someone wants more. Needs more.

Sometimes, the truth is even hotter than the lies . . .

Due to explicit scenes, this steamy romance is rated 18+.

The Lies Between the Lines is created by Ember Casey, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

“Bro, it’s not a big deal. I’m just fucking her.”

My heart stopped.

Kendall’s voice replied, “But man, what would people think if you made her your girl? That’d be crazy work.”

“I’m not stupid,” Jalen said flatly. “I’d never make her mine. It’s only sex, nothing more. And honestly? It’s not that good anymore. I was gonna let her down easy before break.”
......

Aria, a plus-size beauty, thought her scholarship and condo arrangements were a dream until she met her roommate, Talia. Rich, spoiled, and instantly cruel, Talia made Aria's life miserable.

Talia’s new boyfriend, Jalen, was the campus golden boy. When Aria and Jalen were paired for a project, they clicked in ways neither expected from late night talks to shared secrets and undeniable sexual chemistry.

On Halloween night, during an all campus party, Aria sees Talia cheating on Jalen. One emotional night led to an affair that changed everything… until Jalen says some really damaging words to his roommate that were unforgivable and also heard by a once happy but now upset Aria. Disappointed, fed up, and heartbroken, Aria leaves campus and never looks back.

TEN YEARS LATER
Aria returns for the ten year reunion, confident, stunning, and a self-made CEO. Jalen is still gorgeous… but stuck in a miserable marriage with Talia.

She ignores him. Talia tries to humiliate her. Aria wins the room.

As she leaves, Jalen kisses her. She lets herself feel it, then slaps him and walks away.

THE BUSINESS MERGER

Jalen’s cruise line needs Aria’s brand to revamp their image. She agrees, reluctantly.

Now they’re forced to work side by side, trapped between old wounds and new sparks.

Some love stories never die. But some can burn you twice.

I fought for the Empire for eighteen years. My body bore the marks of glory, and I was its strongest shield—until an enemy ambush caught me off guard and plunged me into a coma.

When I finally opened my eyes again, I discovered that my daughter had been stripped naked by her classmates, a dog leash fastened around her neck as they paraded her down the street.

My wife—the woman I had once cherished like a treasure, held gently in the palm of my hand—had been forced to her knees before another man, mouth pried open.

My aged mother had been driven to the ground, kneeling and begging for mercy.

The family of an Imperial general, reduced to this.

Three years. I had only been unconscious for three years.

Hatred spread through me like wildfire. I, Leon, have returned. From this day forward, every last soul who tormented my family will answer for what they've done. Not a single one will be spared.

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 ex and I used to live inside a romance movie.

She was the heroine’s best friend. I was the hero’s loyal sidekick. When the leads got their happy ending, we—the two “extras”—ended up together like an afterthought.

Then the credits rolled, and real life didn’t. The heroine died in a car crash, the hero fell apart, and my girlfriend chose that moment to leave me.

She said she was done being a supporting role. She wanted the spotlight—she wanted the heroine’s place.

I didn’t beg. I left the city alone and started over from nothing.

Five years later, I returned with my own company group—and ran into her again at a charity gala.

She still looked flawless, moving through the room of power and money, keeping up the image of success. She assumed I was still the same guy trailing behind someone else, and she spoke to me with that familiar, pitying superiority—offering to “help” me back into the circle.

Until the lights dimmed, and the host read my name with respectful clarity, inviting me to the stage.

That was when she realized the gala’s biggest sponsor was me—and the “sidekick” she thought she’d left behind was now someone she could never reach again.

My daughter has been blind since birth. On her eighteenth birthday, she finally received news of a matching cornea donor.
Our whole family was so excited we couldn't sleep that night. My husband and daughter eagerly prepared for the surgery, their hearts filled with hope that she would soon see the light.
But I suddenly slammed my hand on the table and, amidst the family's stunned gazes, proposed a divorce on the spot.
My husband's face turned ashen as he demanded harshly, "You want a divorce just because I'm going through with our daughter's surgery?"
I curled the corner of my mouth and enunciated every word: "That's right. Because you're going through with her surgery—this marriage is over."

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

Do all men lose interest in their wives after marriage?

We’ve been married for five years, and he never touched me.

At first he said he wasn’t well, so I was understanding. Later he recovered, but still kept me far away.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my sister came in for a check-up, clearly pregnant with his child.

The truth hit me hard: he wasn’t incapable. He was just incapable with me.

I drew up the divorce papers, ready to end this empty marriage.

On the reason for divorce, I wrote with my own hand:

“Male sexual dysfunction; no marital relations in five years.”

He only smiled coldly when he saw it.

A week later, in the urology clinic.

I put on my medical gloves, looked at him, and said calmly:

“Sir, will you undress yourself, or shall I help you?”

His disapproval didn’t take away my confidence.

I still embraced better things in my career and love life!

But his life started to be filled with one accident after another.

Every night, he slips through my window. He never tells me his name.
He also never lets me touch him.
He owns me in the dark, then disappears before dawn.
For two years, he’s ruled my nights, taking me in every possible way.
Controlled me in ways I can't tell you.
Made me crave things I don’t understand. But when morning comes,
he returns to me as someone else. Natte Johnson.
The global hotel tycoon and rock star.
The man I grew up loving, my first love and losing.
Now I’m assigned to interview him.
The moment our eyes meet, something inside me pulls.
My body reacts to his voice alone and his gaze.

And I can’t stop wondering,
what if the man who commands me in the dark, makes me lose my sanity,
is the same man pretending not to know me in the light?
And if he is,
how long before he stops pretending
and claims me completely?

When Alexander Carter, the ruthless and irresistibly charming CEO of one of the country’s largest corporations, walked into my office, I thought he was there to terminate my contract. After all, I had just lost everything in a project sabotaged by his company. But instead, he made me an offer that would change my life: marry him for one year.

Sounds crazy? Maybe. But with my younger sister depending on me and the bills piling up, refusing wasn’t an option. In return, he offered enough money to rebuild my career and a contract to lead a project I had always dreamed of.

There was just one rule: don’t fall in love.

Simple, right? Or so I thought. Until I realized that behind his cold demeanor and flawless suits was a man full of secrets. A man who started to unravel me with every touch, every whispered word, every lingering glance.

Now, as I fight to keep up the façade of the perfect wife and uncover the conspiracies within his world, one question remains: when all this ends, will I be able to walk away unscathed?

Seven years ago, betrayed by my closest friend and my fiancée, I was thrown into the lightless Black Sea Death Prison and tortured mercilessly.

Seven years later, I returned through a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, only to find my crippled little sister being trampled in the mud by my former "brother," forcing her to sign a humiliating organ extraction contract.

"A worthless ghost who just crawled out of death row—what makes you think you can fight a billionaire tycoon like me?"

At a grand banquet at the Peninsula Hotel, the treacherous couple threw a bloody dog bone at my feet. They mobilized hundreds of heavily armed SWAT officers to surround me, demanding I kneel, kowtow, and call them master.

They thought their wealth and power made them untouchable on the West Coast, assuming I was still the same spineless weakling from years ago.

That was until an EMP tore through the night sky. Three military stealth fighter jets hovered outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, and hundreds of laser sights from the nation's most classified special forces locked dead center on the foreheads of every elite in the room.

Under the horrified gazes of the city's high society, a four-star general crashed through the window and gave me the highest military salute:

"Tier Zero Task Force assembled! Supreme Commander, please give the order to purge!"

At that moment, the high-and-mighty tycoons finally remembered the terror of being dominated by the abyss.

"Get out of here with your dying bastard!"
My son suddenly fell critically ill, and the only matching organ was locked in my wife's family's cold storage. I stormed into the company with my critically ill child, only to be met with a severe suspension notice.
Everyone thought I was some lowly social outcast, someone they could crush at any moment.
Until I pulled out that dusty badge, my father-in-law, who controlled a New York business empire, was so terrified that he cleared the room on the spot, his legs going weak.
"Arrange surgery for my son immediately." I looked at him coldly. "If he misses the optimal transplant window, I guarantee your entire family, and this city, will be executed for him."

Reborn one year before the zombie outbreak, I awakened a supernatural storage space. I stocked massive daily supplies and transformed a secret mountain cave into an impenetrable fortress. I protect my grandma, take revenge on greedy relatives, fight mutated beasts and intelligent zombie monsters, and wait for the rebirth of human civilization in the end times.

In my last life, the city became a locked-down apocalypse zone.
My “family-first” elite father shoved my older brother into a raider’s shotgun just to survive.
My pampered socialite mother thought I was dead weight—and personally threw me into a tide of infected.
When I opened my eyes again, it was the third day after the world collapsed.
Watching my mother still dilute her luxury face cream with the last half case of water—while my father lectured me about principles—
I drew my tactical knife and pinned it clean through the solid oak table.
“From now on, supplies are split. Rot here and prove it to me.”

An S-Rank [Thunder Tyrant]?

I watched coldly as the "good brother" who had betrayed me in my past life strutted around, stealing my woman and humiliating my F-Rank skill.

What he didn't know was that every time he channeled his lightning, his talent was draining his lifespan. In our past life, I was the one who used my skill, [Status Reset], to restore his life force time and time again.

Reborn for another lifetime, I decided I was done playing the saint.

When the crimson behemoth shattered the dome, Brad laughed maniacally, summoning a storm of lightning. But in an instant, the fierce backlash turned his arms into brittle charcoal, shattering in pieces across the ground. I stepped over his rolling, mutilated body and picked up a piece of rusty scrap metal.

"Reset."

The dead rust was eradicated. The scrap metal instantly reverted to a fully charged, high-frequency combat blade.

Gripping the blade in one hand, I faced the overwhelming tide of corpses and carved out a path of blood.

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.”

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.