3950 Book(s) Related to my billionaire ex wife

The second the avalanche came down, I called my mate. Karl. Captain of the Pack Guard's First Squad.

He dug me out, carried me onto the helicopter, and told the pilot to take off before the second rescue team even got there.

He didn't know Delilah was buried in the same slide. The girl he'd never gotten over.

By the time they reached her, she'd been under the snow for three hours in twenty below.

Karl stood in the morgue all night.

He came back the next day and just gave me a small smile. "It wasn't your fault. You were carrying our pup. Of course you came first."

For a month after that, he was gentler than he'd ever been. He cleared his schedule to take me to every checkup. Cooked for me himself. Put the crib together, the dresser too. Every single thing in the nursery lined up exactly right.

I thought that avalanche had finally buried Delilah. That it had given him back to me.

Until the day I went into labor.

He sent every doctor and nurse out of the delivery room. There was a silver scalpel in his hand.

The moment he cut me open, I saw the red in his eyes.

Our pup was still crying, small and weak, and he never even looked. He threw us both into the incinerator.

"If it weren't for you, Delilah would still be alive. Your life for hers."

Then I opened my eyes, and I was back at the moment the avalanche hit.

Since marrying into the Sterling family, I've been pregnant three times. Not one of them survived.

Every time the DNA test report arrived, my mother-in-law would drag me to the clinic for an abortion.

They said the fetus had genetic defects. But I secretly went to an outside hospital for tests, and the report clearly stated everything was normal.

After my third miscarriage, I followed my in-laws to the basement I was forbidden to enter.

I held my breath and pressed my eye to the crack in the door.

In that moment, I finally knew why they had to kill my babies.

I was once the daughter of the Alpha of Dawn Pack.
After my parents were killed and I was kicked out of the Pack, I was left with nothing.
I was brought back to William’s Pack and became the one he treasured in the palm of his hand.
When the car accident happened, he shielded me with his body, saying he couldn’t live without me.

But after I was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer, all I wanted was to quietly leave and not burden him.
However, after I tried to escape from the wedding, he captured me and imprisoned me.
Refusing to eat and losing weight, it was just the toll of my illness.
But he thought I was intentionally torturing him.

When his "resurrected" ex-wife, Jessica, returned,
At the celebration banquet, I merely gagged once while eating.
He flipped the table, shoved garbage into my mouth, and screamed for me to die.
I hid in the bathroom, wrapped in his clothes, vomiting blood, and no medicine could stop the cold shivers.
For the first time, I called him and begged him to let me go.
But all I received was his scolding and the merciless hang-up.

When Alpha Alex chose to abandon our biological son Lucas in the fire and instead saved the son of Omega Isabella, my world shattered.

In an instant, I became a pitiful creature crushed under their feet.
Isabella humiliated me—forced me to lick the dirt off her shoes like I was nothing.

Lucas died in agony, and I wasn’t even allowed to attend his funeral.

But as the truth slowly began to unravel, I realized with horror that behind all this suffering…
lay a secret powerful enough to destroy me.

What should I do now?

Can anyone tell me—
how do I escape a fate that feels like a nightmare I can’t wake from?

My fiancée, with whom I've been in a relationship for three years, has threatened to break off our engagement for the hundredth time, forcing me to donate a kidney to her adopted brother, who's faking illness and acting like a hypocrite.

My biological parents even threatened to sever ties with me: "You have a healthy body. Ian has nothing but us. You can't even bear to part with a kidney. You're so selfish and cold-blooded!"

They don't know that my hands, which I used to play the piano, had already been crushed by gangsters while cleaning up their mess; they also don't know that at this moment, I have a critical illness notice for late-stage bone cancer in my pocket.

Seeing the undisguised disgust and indifference in my fiancée's eyes, I swallowed the taste of blood in my throat and calmly signed the consent form for the live organ removal.

"Okay, I'll donate. I'll give you back my life along with it."

Later, I died like a dog on the rusty operating table of a shady clinic, my bones and marrow completely drained.

But when I was truly reduced to dust and left without even a complete corpse... the truth about my vicious foster brother faking illness was exposed.

The aloof and arrogant female CEO who once treated me like trash went completely mad overnight.

She knelt desperately before my nameless grave, plunged a sharp knife into her abdomen, and collapsed in a pool of blood, pleading for me to see her one more time.

I never meant to want him. Gianni Rossetti—tattooed, dangerous, twice my age, and my best friend’s father.

He was supposed to be off-limits. Untouchable. The kind of man you only fantasize about when you’re alone in the dark with your hand between your thighs.

But the night I caught him eating another woman alive by the pool, I couldn’t look away.
And he knew it.
The moment his dark eyes locked on mine through the glass, I became prey. His filthy smirk promised one thing—he saw me touching myself to him, and he wasn’t about to let me forget it.

Now, every time I’m in his house, I can’t breathe without thinking of his mouth between my legs.
I left my cheating boyfriend behind, only to fall into something even more dangerous:
a man who could ruin me, break me, and make me beg for his cock while his own daughter sleeps in the next room.

He’s too old. Too powerful. Too forbidden.
But Gianni doesn’t ask—he takes.
And I don’t want him to stop.

Eight years ago, I left him bleeding in a hospital bed and disappeared without a trace.
It was the hardest thing I had ever done.
It was also the only way to protect the secret growing inside me.
For eight years, I built a quiet life for myself and my daughter, far away from the Trevanti name and the dangerous family that nearly destroyed us. I had one rule.
Never let them find me.
Then I made a mistake.
One bad decision landed me in debt to the wrong people, and before I knew it, I was being sold to the highest bidder.
I expected a stranger.
Instead, Fabian Trevanti walked through the door.
The boy I abandoned.
The man I never forgot.
The only man I’ve ever loved.
Eight years should have been enough to forget him.
It wasn’t.
Not his smile.
Not the way he looked at me.
Not the way my heart still betrayed me whenever I heard his name.
The worst part wasn’t that Fabian found me.
The worst part was realizing I still wanted him.
Because Fabian isn’t the sweet boy I left behind anymore.
He’s powerful.
Dangerous.
Possessive.
And after spending eight years searching for me, he’s no longer willing to accept my excuses or my distance.
He’s never letting us go again.
But Fabian finding me is only the beginning.
A ghost from our past has returned.
A man we thought was dead.
A monster who stole years of our lives and left scars neither of us ever truly escaped.
And this time, he wants more than revenge.
Caught between old secrets, deadly enemies, and a love neither of us managed to bury, Fabian and I are forced back into each other’s lives just as the past comes crashing through the door.
The problem?
The more danger closes in around us, the harder it becomes to remember why I ran in the first place.
And when the truth finally comes out, I might lose far more than my secret.
I might lose my heart all over again.

"We should be doing this," I mumbled, yet I bent my neck for him, giving him better access to it.
"Yes we shouldn't," he answered, but his hands were sliding under my skirt and pulling my panties down.
"If we get caught," I muttered, moaning as his fingers found my slick entrance and he rubbed. My knees shook but he held me against himself with his other hand.
"If we get caught," he repeated. It was as if this had become some sort of game between him and I. Repeating each other's words like this.
"I could be expelled and your job would be taken from you," I completed.
"Yes, that could happen," he answered with a nod of his head. He moved away from me and stared into my eyes. "But it won't happen. We won't get caught. I won't tell, if won't tell."
"I'd be crazy to tell someone," I answered, my eyes searching his.


Vampire x Human. Professor x Student. Steamy x Forbidden love
When your one night stand turns out to be your professor, there's only one thing to do- continue to sleep with him. And that was exactly what Sophia is going to do.
She's faced with a forbidden attraction that's hard to resist until she finds out his dark secret; he's a vampire.
Will her passion overcome the secrets he had been hiding from her or will the shadows tear them apart?

AN AGE GAP, FORCED PROXIMITY, BLACK FLAG ROMANCE

Vincenzo Valentini is a man who sees the world as a business counter and human beings as merchandise.

The owner of an empire built upon corpses and submission, he is the reflection of pure perversity.

When fate places Andrew Thompson, the son of his greatest rival, into his hands, the plan was simple: use him, break him, and discard him like a toy that has lost its appeal.

What Vincenzo did not expect was that, beneath the youthful skin and the appearance of innocence, Andrew hid the same abyss as he did.

Vincenzo never wanted redemption. He never wanted someone to save him from his own darkness. He was seeking a mirror. And in Andrew, he found the partner who, upon seeing his blood-stained hands, does not recoil in terror, but trembles with desire.

In this perverse game, the "little toy" proves to be the perfect executioner. The mafia leader found someone who not only accepts his cruel side but cultivates it, feeding the monster Vincenzo has always been.

Where there should have been fear, lust emerged. Where there should have been hatred, a perverse loyalty was born. Andrew Thompson is the dark reflection of Vincenzo, the soldier the underworld did not see coming, and the man who proved that, for some, paradise only makes sense if it is in the middle of chaos.

Vincenzo opened the doors to his empire, but Andrew was the only one capable of invading his heart.

They are not heroes. They are hell on earth.

Selene Carey believed the Bloodhowl mating ceremony would be the night her life finally began.

Damon Bloodhowl was her fated mate, the Alpha heir, and the one wolf she thought would choose her when no one else ever had. Instead, he rejects her in front of the entire pack and claims her stepsister, Mira, as his chosen mate.

Humiliated, heartbroken, and abandoned by her own family, Selene expects the night to end with her shame.

Then Alpha Ronan rises.

Damon’s father. Bloodhowl’s ruthless Alpha. A wolf feared, obeyed, and never questioned.

Before Selene can accept Damon’s rejection, Ronan places his Alpha ring in her hand and claims her as his chosen mate.

Now Selene is trapped between the mate who rejected her, the Alpha who chose her, and a pack waiting to see whether she will break.

Ronan’s protection is dangerous. His attention is impossible to ignore. And the more Selene stands beside him, the more enemies begin to circle.

She was rejected by the heir.

Chosen by the Alpha.

But the choice that matters most may be the one Selene makes for herself.

"You are mine," he said, crossing tenderly his arm around my body. I was speechless, I tried to feign he had no power over me but my body betrayed me.
Tighten on his chest, I felt relieved and appeased, I just wanted to rest and never get out of the room, until I heard a voice coming from nowhere waking me up from this nightmare.

Yes, It was a nightmare. How could I take pleasure wrapped in this man's arm?
He was the son of the murderer of my parents.
Even if my heart was claiming him, I should remember I had no place for such a feeling.

I would struggle with my being to piss this sentiment aside.
They would pay.
His father for killing my parents, and him for being the son of this swine.
He had to pay for his father's sins.
My mind had to overpower the emotion I felt

My name is Arabella. I sold 20 years of my life to become a vampire’s attendant after my father’s death in order to help my family. I should have been scared of blood and fangs, but instead, I long for my master's touches.

What I didn't know was that my desire for him would bring me nothing but destruction.


“You taste delicious.” He licks his lips, pulling me closer to him.
The warmth of his skin against mine, and the soothing rhythm of his beating heart calms me a bit. I relax my shoulders and lie there with my head on his chest.
“Ara, I'm your master and it’s my responsibility to keep you safe, but I failed today.”
His words sound sincere, and I really wish I could believe him.
But all vampires are monsters.
He just happens to be the monster I wish I could trust.

My Vampire Master: A Contract of Blood and Lust is created by Angeline Hartwood, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

19 year old Bellatrix finds herself exiled to an enemy pack priorn to the destruction of her pack. And to worsen things, the one who brought her into the world of misery, widely feared and known for his cruelty, Alpha Anslan Robertson, turned out to be her mate.
What was the way forward for this timid young lady who even found it hard to shift?

They say Caspian Vale has a body count higher than his net worth. I don't care about either.

I only care that my brother's last voicemail spelled his name like a curse.

I didn't apply to Vale Industries for a paycheck. I applied for a funeral.. his.

Then he proposed. Not with a ring but a contract. My mother's hospital wing for my signature on a marriage certificate. I said yes because saying no would've been too easy and dumb.

Here's the thing about monsters okay??
They’re only scary until you see them brush their teeth. Until they hold your hair back. Until they get jealous over a waiter's glance and you realize you like it.

One night and one mistake. Now I'm digging through my brother's past and finding holes I didn't create just because the shooter wasn't Caspian.

The shooter was aiming at me.

But Caspian? He just took the blame like a man who's been waiting to fall.

I came to destroy a king. I didn't expect to find a martyr wearing a crown of thorns and a wedding band I can't take off.

In that case, let the game begin.

I thought telling Alpha Kane I was pregnant would be the hardest part of my day.

That was before I found my step-sister naked on his mahogany desk.
I remained committed to my role of Luna for three years while I suffered through his distant behavior because I viewed our mate bond as a holy connection. The moment he wiped her lipstick from his mouth, the bond that connected us to each other shattered in my heart because he had treated me as someone who lacked excitement.

He wanted me to weep while I accepted my lower-status position. I used my mother’s billion-dollar tech patents to lock him out, then I denied him on the pack intercom, before I entered the advanced security facilities of his most dangerous competitor.

Alpha Kaelen, the Lycan King, doesn't function as an uncontrollable animal. He possesses dangerous charisma which combines with his exceptional intelligence. I didn't request his protection; I established the terms for it. I presented him with the blueprints which would lead to our shared enemy's financial ruin. We are currently dismantling Kane's business empire together. Our formal agreement starts to dissolve into an irresistible attraction which develops during our nighttime strategy meetings and our executive boardroom business takeovers.

Kaelen discovers my hidden pregnancy secret, but he does not exile me from his presence. He displays a wicked grin while making his intention to take ownership of his opponent's offspring permanent. Kane will initiate a violent conflict to reclaim me as his possessions disappear and his remorse transforms into a primal fixation.

Will my charming, deadly protector permit me to handle my own conflicts or will we destroy everything my ex left behind?

When the zombie apocalypse hit, my elder brother shoved me into a horde of the undead. Now, I've been reborn exactly five days before the end of the world, and he's trying to scam me out of my winning lottery ticket with a beat-up old ring. What he doesn't know is that this ring is a genuine pocket dimension artifact. He thinks he's pulling the ultimate con, completely unaware that I'm going to use this very relic to forge my own post-apocalyptic empire. This time, I'm going to make them pay back every last thing they owe me.

I fought for the Vampire Empress, Serena, for a decade, shedding my blood and extracting my own bones to sustain her throne.

Yet, she deemed me lowly, having me dismembered and drained of blood just to please her new favorite. She even trampled my battle flag in public with her high heels, sneering: "A mere dog thinks he can fake his death to vie for my affection?"

Little did she know, the very moment I died for her, the blood covenant chains binding me shattered entirely.

The ancient power of the Silver Wolf King awakened within my broken remains, and the Lycan Empress led an army of ten thousand, falling to their knees to welcome me!

When the unprotected Serena was torn apart and had her heart devoured by the four rogue dukes before the entire court, she wept and begged me to save her.

I merely looked down with cold indifference: "The shield is gone. It's your turn to be the sacrifice."

Five years ago, I woke up after surgery with my mind completely blank. The doctor said I had been in a training accident, and I was lucky just to be alive. Due to my injuries, after being discharged from the military, I was assigned to the mess hall at Fort Kiernan. Every day, I stood behind the same serving window, dishing out the same beef and potato stew to the same group of new recruits. I thought my life would always be like this. Then one day, a female journalist from the detention cell was escorted over by military police to get her meal. She slid her tray toward me and spoke a word I had never heard before. The ladle slipped right out of my left hand. My right arm dropped to my side, and my fingers curled instinctively into the shape of a gun grip. Who on earth am I?

My name is Megan, and I am the Queen of the Star Fae.
Sixteen years ago, I left my Mate — Orlando, Alpha of the Darkmoon Pack — and the daughter we had just brought into the world, to hold back an invasion of Abyssal demons.
Sixteen years of war in the Void — and at last, the Abyss was sealed.
I came home crowned in glory, my mastery over the Source of Starlight absolute. I expected my husband's arms and my daughter's smile waiting for me.
I never imagined that setting foot on Darkmoon land again would mean no flowers, no cheering — only the sound of my own child screaming for help from inside a filthy dungeon.

On the eve of the apocalypse, I awakened a survival system: send me $5,000, and the sender can unlock a safehouse and awaken a life-saving ability.
The first person I told was Chloe, my girlfriend of three years. In return, she humiliated me in public and cheated on me without a shred of remorse.
That was the moment I finally gave up. The "nice guy" she had drained dry was dead for good.
One month later, the zombie horde arrived right on schedule. For old times' sake, I saved her one last time. And she repaid me by shoving me straight into the jaws of the mutated dead so she could save herself.
What she didn't know... was that I wasn't the only one who had awakened powers.

irectly in front of me.
Only the night before, she’d been curled up in my arms, her warm fingertips brushing my collarbone, our bodies tangled in tender, loving intimacy.
Yet the toe tag fastened around her ankle was etched with cold, unflinching words: Su Wan, Female, 22. Cause of death: fatal fall from height. Time in morgue custody: 365 days.
She had been dead for an entire year.
Just what in the hell was the woman who’d gasped beneath me night after night, who’d lived beside me day in and day out for six whole months—the woman I’d called my girlfriend?

I died on the operating table—my heart cut out, my unborn child destroyed, my identity stolen by the woman who replaced me.
Now I'm back. At the exact moment they're celebrating my replacement's victory, I step out of the shadows and into the light of my own funeral.
Tonight, I will not beg. I will not cry. I will not give them the satisfaction of watching me break.
Tonight, I become the nightmare they've been running from. For twenty years, they treated me like I was invisible. Let me show them what happens when you ignore the one person who could destroy everything you built.
I am Serena Astor.
The rightful heir.
And I will have my revenge.

The child I brought into this world through sheer determination now calls my husband's mistress "mother"; the youth who slew my father for my sake and was imprisoned, now confines me beyond the threshold, forcing me to hear his carnal symphony with his stepmother. Only then did I comprehend: the sixteen-year-old boy who committed patricide for me had long perished within the prison walls.

The day the IVF succeeded was when I realized Michael had deceived me all along.
He had only used me as a surrogate for my sister.
When I confronted him, he tested me, forcing me to kill someone. "Afraid to pull the trigger? Doesn't seem like my kind of woman," he sneered.
I tried to run, but he caught me.
He kept me locked away, forced me to eat foods I was allergic to until I needed my stomach pumped, and chained me to the bed while he went off with her.
I cried until I had no tears left—and finally learned how to hold a gun.

Six hundred years into our marriage, I found out my husband had a son.

I had ended my border patrol three days early, wanting to surprise Valerius.

Not far away, Valerius was channeling his exclusive magic, teaching a boy how to weave the darkness.

"Dad! I did it!" The boy looked up. His bright eyes were a near-perfect reflection of Valerius's.

My mind instantly went blank.

Dad?

A woman walked over.

She draped a small cloak over the boy's shoulders, her hand brushing against Valerius's chest with practiced familiarity. "Valeri, the wind is picking up. He'll catch a cold now that he's sweating."

Valerius naturally wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "My fault."

The image of them huddled together like a picture-perfect family was an ice-tipped needle driven straight into my eyes.

The sharp sting made my breath hitch in my throat.

The man who had sworn before the Senate to love me for all eternity—the man bound to me by a Soul Blood Pact—had already betrayed me!

A sudden, agonizing cramp seized my lower abdomen.

It was an old wound from six centuries ago.

When the Sunfire Curse nearly reduced Valerius to ashes, I had offered my high-born pure blood and my womb as a sacrifice to forcibly block the hex for him.

The price was permanent infertility, along with an excruciating backlash of pain I had to endure every single month.

Back then, Valerius had held me, his eyes red and tear-filled. "I don't want any children! I would rather lose my seat in the Senate than ever betray you!"

Yet the scene before me crushed those words into fine dust.

I stumbled backward, my chest feeling as though it had been ripped open by bare hands.

I was terrified I'd lose control and rush over to scream at him.

Worse yet, in the face of this cozy, happy family of three, I was afraid I'd look like a pathetic, unwanted outsider.

Suffocation gripped my throat. I turned and fled.

"Enjoying the show quite a lot, aren’t you, John?"
I had just shut the suite door, behind which lewd gasps and moans lingered, when Louise, the young heiress of a top tycoon family, walked straight up to me.
Slap!
A crisp, heavy slap landed hard across my face.
"You shameless cur!"
She snarled, her eyes filled with arrogant venom.
I clenched my jaw tightly, my nails digging sharply into my palms.
In this class pyramid forged by capital, I was nothing but a personal bodyguard worth even less than a pedigreed luxury dog.
Yet it was not long before this lofty young lady met with a plane crash. She ended up on her knees before me, groveling and begging for mercy.
"John… take me. I’m your slave."

Five years into our relationship, a floating panel appeared just above Julian’s head, visible only to me: the [Life Priority Meter].
For the longest time, my name securely held the number one spot. That is, until recently, when it plummeted to second place.
The person who knocked me down to claim first? Harper—my best friend of over a decade.
Staring at the stack of wedding invitations on the table, bearing both our names, I knew it was time to wake up from this five-year long dream.

Fresh off the operating table after barely surviving a miscarriage, I received a $50,000 bill—every cent spent on a waterbed and aphrodisiac aromatherapy on a yacht.
 
I called my husband, the only other person who knew about that account.

Over the phone, he sounded gentle yet aggrieved: "Honey, how could I afford a luxury yacht? It must be a banking error. You just lost our baby; please rest well. My flight to New York is taking off soon, and I'll be right by your side the moment I get back!"
 
I didn't expose the deafening sounds of the wild party in his background. I simply hung up.
 
He thought his lie was flawless. He had no idea that as the hidden heiress of the Windsor Consortium, that priceless yacht, the Poseidon, was actually a coming-of-age gift from my grandmother.
 
I ripped the IV out of my arm and dialed a number I hadn't called in years since marrying beneath my station.
 
"Grandma, you were right. He doesn't deserve me. I'm going to the ship to catch him red-handed."

I am the sole heir to the Hartwell fortune.
But this birthday dinner — the one meant to sign the family trust into my hands on my twenty-second year — was being ruined by the housekeeper's daughter.
Brianna had done it on purpose. She'd stolen the archival couture gown my late mother left behind, then thrown herself into the champagne tower and pinned it on me.
"Oh God, Audrey, why did you push me?" She was already crying, her voice pitched for the crowd. "I know you hate seeing me in this dress, but your father was the one who insisted I wear it. Please don't make me leave."
In my last life, I'd stood there sobbing, waving my hands, trying to explain.
For that, I'd been stripped of my inheritance on the spot, committed to a psychiatric ward, and in the end, every fingernail torn out one by one, I'd died in agony.
But I'd been reborn.
Now I looked down at Brianna crumpled among the shattered crystal, playing the victim, and I didn't waste a word.
I crossed the floor, stood over her, drew my arm back, and slapped her across the face as hard as I could.
"Shut your mouth."

To end two years of a long-distance marriage with my husband, Sutton Brennan, I quit my job and moved halfway across the state to join his top-tier medical center.
But from the moment I clocked in on day one, a nightmare awaited me.
IV pain pumps violently popped open in my hands, medication cabinets rejected my fingerprints, coffee machines sprayed me with boiling water, microwaves exploded in public, and the employee lockers locked me out entirely.
My colleagues laughed at me, calling me a walking disaster. The head nurse publicly berated me for being incompetent. And my husband, the man I trusted most, simply smiled his gentle smile and said, "You're just tense. Give it a few more days."
In my past life, I believed him. I gritted my teeth and held on until the bitter end—and ultimately died inside this very hospital.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on my first day of work.

We'd agreed to spend summer break in the Hamptons. Right before break started, my boyfriend suggested we hit the water park out in the suburbs first, just to blow off some steam.

I thought it was a date. Just the two of us. But when I get to the gate, my best friend Sienna is standing there in a string bikini.

I tell her that's not safe to swim in. Her face goes cold and she tells me to mind my own business.

Colton frowns too and dumps his phone, a towel, and Sienna's makeup bag into my arms. "Vivienne, do you have to kill the mood? Sienna's scared to go alone. What's the big deal if I keep her company?"

In the wave pool, he holds her against his chest and the two of them roll around in the spray, laughing.

When they come out, Sienna takes the ice water I haven't even opened and takes a big swig, then hands it to Colton, and he drinks half the bottle right from where her lips were.

I stand there feeling like the hired help.

Two years of killing myself to be the understanding, easygoing girlfriend, and all it got me was a boyfriend who walks all over me without thinking twice.

If he's that close with my best friend, he can't blame me for calling up his best friend since they were kids.

"Julian, can you come get me?"

Serena and I got tricked into vampire territory, forced into blood slavery.
By the time the pack showed up to save us, I was already the top blood slave in that pit, kneeling beside the vampire count, counting his earnings.
Serena was left rotting in a cell, poisoned, pregnant, and barely alive.
The pack offered a huge bounty to find whoever set us up.
I was the only one who knew. And I said nothing.
Morwenna, the Alpha's mother, begged me on her knees to talk. I closed my eyes, pretending not to hear.
The elders pushed. I stayed silent.
My mate, Alpha Kai, dragged me onto the Blood Moon memory altar, furious.
"Serena's dying in that tent, and you're here protecting those animals!"
"Disgusting. How did I ever fall for you!"
"This stone's going to rip your soul apart and drag you to hell with your precious vampires!"
But when the truth finally surfaced, Kai just stood there. Speechless.

The moment I gave up wasn't when I found out my husband was cheating. It was when I heard my ten-year-old daughter laugh into the phone and say, "Mom's so clueless. She has no idea about Dad and Summer."

Ten years ago, I was a top biomedical researcher, making six figures. I gave it all up for his promotion and our newborn daughter. Ten years later, the perfect marriage I traded my career and youth for turned out to be nothing but an elaborate lie.

He called me his safe haven, then got in our bed with his mistress and discussed how to keep me in the dark.

This time, I'm not going to cry or make a scene. I'm going to quietly gather my evidence and call the lab director I've turned down seven times.

When the apocalypse arrived, my girlfriend, driven by vanity, exposed my unlimited resource space and incited starving people to kill me and feed me to the zombies, while she herself stepped on my flesh and blood to become the "savior goddess".
But she didn't know that I mutated amidst the pile of corpses and awakened into the only zombie tyrant.
I corrupted the space, cut off food supplies, led a horde of tens of thousands of zombies to besiege the city, and threw a bounty at the starving mob: "Use her flesh and blood to exchange for a bite to eat."
Watching the once-lofty Mother Teresa torn to pieces, kneeling at my feet weeping and begging for mercy, I laughed. Moral blackmail? Sorry, I'm the Zombie King now.

My husband, Callum, never loved me. On our wedding night, he panted another woman’s name.
For five years, I endured a cold, loveless marriage. The only reason I held on was my daughter, Tessa.
But on the eve of her fourth birthday, Callum went behind my back and personally delivered her to his mistress Seraphina's underground lab.
The moment my daughter was drained of her blood and her heart stopped beating on that operating table, he was drinking champagne with Seraphina to celebrate their success.
From the moment I walked out of the crematorium holding Tessa’s freezing urn, the submissive wife I used to be died.

I woke up on the same morning I was about to send another payment for my daughter's education.
In my last life, I paid for everything. Every year, without missing a payment.
Tuition. AP tutoring. Summer program deposits. Medical bills. Birthday gifts. The education fund.
Not one payment late. Not one skipped.
I only found out the truth after I died. My daughter wore a blazer that hung off her like a hand-me-down. She glued her shoes back together instead of throwing them out. She got mocked in front of her whole class for owing a two-thousand-dollar activity fee she should never have had to worry about.
She hated me for it.
She said, "You say you love me. So why was there never any money for me?"
I understood the truth only when it was too late to matter. It was never that I hadn't given enough.
It was that my husband had been siphoning it out from under me the whole time, spending it on another woman's family.
This time, I didn't wait to find out.

Every time my husband’s adopted sister, Avey, had a tennis match, he would force a dark green concoction down my throat. As soon as it kicked in, my entire body would turn weak and aching.
He claimed it was a folk remedy, and I believed him.
In half a year, I lost twenty pounds, half my hair fell out, and I lost our four-month-old baby.
Until the night I overheard them whispering behind a cracked door—they had sought out a witch and cast a dark curse.
My forced standstill was the price for her endless stamina. All her fatigue and sports injuries were being directly transferred to me.
Late that night, listening to them plot to drain the life out of me, I made a choice. On the very night Avey won her championship, I climbed into a deep hibernation pod. I traded thirty days of absolute physical stasis to ensure she could never stop.

I'm sixty years old. My husband Marcus just whipped me with his belt — for burning an egg. My face is bruised, my hair is gray, and I gave up a full ride to Stanford for this man over forty years ago.
Then the phone rings.
The voice on the other end is mine — my eighteen-year-old self, calling on her birthday, gushing about how Marcus is out buying her a cake, how they're running away to Nashville together tomorrow.
She asks if I'm happy.
I tell her the truth: her boyfriend is in a cheap motel right now, in bed with her best friend. And those pretty promises about Nashville? He's planning to use her up and throw her away.
She doesn't believe me. Of course she doesn't.
But I know the motel. I know the room number. And I know what's behind that door.
If she walks away from him tonight, everything changes — for both of us.

My sister climbed out her window the night before her wedding. So my family pinned her veil over my face and sent me in her place.
I'd been her stand-in my whole life — same face, same hair, the daughter they could afford to lose. Nobody looks twice at a bride behind a veil.
The Falcones figured out I was a fake before the vows. They broke my hand for the insult. And the don himself — the man this whole city only says quietly — took one look at the mess they'd made of me and told them to throw me out with the trash.
Then his eyes dropped to the locket my dead mother left me, lying on his marble floor.
And the most feared man in the city went very, very still.
He had no business knowing my mother's name. So why did he say it like a prayer?