2146 Book(s) Related to little aliens from toy story

I sacrificed ten years of my life in prison for Alaric. I burned my hand in a raging fire, just to save our four-year-old son.
Yet the family I saved abandoned me. My husband favored his scheming stepmother. My own son called me dirty, rejecting his birth mother. To humiliate me, Alaric even bet half a million on my dignity.
Tired of endless humiliation, I chose to leave the cold father and son who broke me completely.
Just as I fell into despair, my childhood sweetheart—now a powerful CEO—returned. He swore to guard me closely, making up for all the warmth I had lost.

TRIGGER WARNING!!!
This story contains themes of obsession, possessiveness, stalking, emotional manipulation, and psychological control. It is unapologetically intense and unsettling in all the right (and wrong) ways.
Be guided.


Eight years ago, Shannon watched her stepbrother get handcuffed and taken to jail for a crime she committed.

He took the fall for it without hesitation. Not because he was noble. God, no. But because obsession looks a lot like love when you're seventeen and scared.

After that night, she never went to visit him in prison, nor did she reply to any of his letters.

She buried him with the past and went on to live a peaceful life without him.

But the past never forgets.

Eight years later, when she was living a simple, peaceful life, had a decent job and a husband who loved her deeply, Shannon's past came knocking at her door.

Strange things start happening... Doors left open. Favorite things mysteriously replaced. Eyes she can't see but feels always watching her.

Everyone says she's paranoid. Everyone says He is still in jail.

No one believes her when she says she had a STALKER.

Her judgment is already upon her because, now, HE is out of prison. And the first place he goes is her doorstep, because he says she owes him her life. And he's come to collect what's his.

How far can Shannon run from a man who never stopped loving her in the most terrifying way?

A man who'd kill anyone, even her husband, just to make her his?

HIS NAME IS KENAI... The Stalker You Never Want To Have.


If you enjoy slow-burn stalker dynamics and morally gray characters, this one's for you.

After the apocalypse, I built Dawnlight Base.

On an outside run, I died in an ambush—blast, fire, bullets. I watched my blood sink into the sand and thought it was over.

Then I opened my eyes five years later, living in a stranger’s body.

On a transport truck, I was locked in an iron cage with guns trained on us. The others told me who I was now: a bottom-tier gate guard, “cargo” being sold by Dawnlight to a mining camp.

They said after my death, my girlfriend took the command room, promoted her own people, broke up my old crew and stripped their weapons. Mismanagement followed. Mining rights were pawned off. Then they started selling the living.

I escaped and slipped back under the wall.

The quarantine corridor at the North Gate had collapsed and no one repaired it. A long line waited at the ration point, bowls filled with water-thin gruel.

And my girlfriend was signing papers—inviting an outside warlord into the city to “share governance.”

A week later, his convoy rolled through the gate. From the command building’s second-floor window, I flipped the signal switch.

The gate dropped behind them.

When gunfire erupted from every direction, they finally understood—

I was back.

Dylan’s breath fanned my face. "Don't ever make me remind you that you're my pet!"

"Let me go—" I croaked out as his hand pressed further against my throat.


Reet’s life is already falling apart.

With her home lost, her father in prison, and Dylan Carter—the school's bad boy making her his favorite target, Reet curses her fate when she discovers she's meant to live in the same house with him.

Dylan is Brookwood High's star quarterback and the golden boy in the game of hierarchy, alongside Vanessa Hale, his high level girlfriend and Brian Smith, his one and only rival.

But behind the fame and cruelty, Dylan hides secrets darker than anyone knows.

When rumors destroy Reet’s reputation and the truth about her father begins to surface, the line between enemy and protector starts to blur.

And rivalry becomes the seed of familiarity.

"I am bound to punish you for breaking the rules," he said as he started undoing his tie. I swallowed, the thought of being punished by him terrified and excited me at the same time. I needed this. The heat pooled between my legs as I watched him undo his tie with one hand and his belt in the other. It was hot. He grabbed me by the neck, bending me over the table with my face down on the surface and my ass high up in the air.

He caressed my soft flesh with his palm. "Count," he ordered, My brows furrowed in confusion, the haze of lust so heavy in my head that my brain failed to grasp his words. The first slap landed on my ass cheeks and I cried out. "Count," he barked. I whimpered but I nodded my head to his request. "One," I counted as the first slap came on my behind. I kept counting as he delivered blows to my now red ass. "Good girl," he murmured as he rubbed them gently, to take away the ache. I was moist and he could sense it. Dipping his finger into my pussy, he confirmed how wet I was for him. "Hmm," he hummed, embarrassment slammed into me with enough force. I barely knew this man and here I was letting him possess me. I liked it. I licked my lips in anticipation of what he wished to do, his lips touched the nape of my neck and I jumped. He licked the juncture of my neck, and the pulsating nerves there responded to his touch. "You taste so sweet," he murmured as he kissed his way down my neck. "T...thank you," I managed to get out. "Let me make you mine," he says,

“Being on that bed with me?”

Lust. Losing the battle with his lust, my boss, Luther Haastrup, let out an inhumane growl and bit into my neck.

My wrists were cuffed above my head by his hands but as the need to feel and touch him grew stronger, I fought to release myself from his hold. I gripped his head tightly, pressing it closer from where it laid between my breasts. I wasn't ready to let go of him. It felt magical being underneath him as he pounded into me.

Reese Quin, a secretary to Luther Haastrup. She's very reserved, but is a sex addict due to a trauma she suffered from when she was younger. Luther Haastrup, he's a dominant man who made his way to the top. He is very business oriented and cares more about what he doesn't have than what he actually has.

Having been involved in a one-night stand with her boss, Reese finds herself in a dilemma especially when her boss craves more of her touch.

Only for ages 18 and older.

As a regular student, I never expected to fit into the world of trust fund kids. But this real estate heiress reached out to me, said she'd show me how the other half lives, even promised to introduce me to New England's most powerful heir.

I thought she'd be my friend. Thought she actually cared. I even fell for him.

Until she framed me for stealing confidential school files. Until he said, "Just a scholarship kid. No one's gonna miss her." That's when I understood. I was never more than their toy.

They tore up my textbooks, stuffed dead rats in my locker, spent six months tormenting me online and off. My mother couldn't take the vicious comments. Her heart gave out. And me? After I completely broke down, they drove me to the coastal cliffs.

Ice-cold water flooded my nose and mouth. Suffocation dragged me down into despair. I hate myself for being weak. Hate them for their arrogance. Hate this rotten system that treats people like me as disposable.

But when I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the night she pushed me toward him.

This time, I won't be fooled.

I had a really simple plan after dad was transfered to a new werid town again and i began my final year in a new high school * Finish kings bury academy * Get into my Oxford university * And begin a life for myself But one word from him, my fate is sealed for doom!!, he wants me, but i will never give in to him!. If he wants a battle am gonna give him a bloody war!! *** I push her to the wall and bang my hand on the space beside her head as i bring my closer to her face "I can have any i want in this danm school , so whats so special about yours?" "That you can't have it?" She spikes, her eyes flaring with anger Thats what she thinks, i will show her what it means to be the next alpha of my pack, no one defiles me and stays sane!! Humans are not welcome in wolves territory and she just invaded her space, if your ready for war, then by all means, show me what youve got darling May the best man win. wink ******* The Alpha's Toy is the book 1 in the blood wolves academy series, its a high school bully romance series as it involves a possesive alpha male and lots of near scenes, although the female enjoys it, but still it might trigger some emotions in most readers, its not recomended to anyone less than 17 or 18 due to its mature content But it you think you can handle everything this book offers.. Then be my guest..

Having been born with a weak constitution, Ariel Hovstad is hated by her family. Ever since Mrs. Kathleen Hovstad gave birth to a set of twins, Ariel and Ivy Hovstad. She's been bedridden. She believes it's because Ariel is a jinx since every time she has contact with her, her health deteriorates even more. Thus, afraid to be jinxed by her anymore, Mrs. Kathleen orders her husband, Mr. Henry Hovstad to get rid of her when she's three.

Mr. Henry sends her to the countryside to live with a distant relative; her grandmother. Years later, her grandmother dies, and Ariel is forced to go back to her family. Everyone sees her as an enemy back home, so she is hated. She's either in her room or at school.
(In her room at night, her cell phone suddenly rings)

Person X: Hey boss, how're you? Did you miss me? Oh, is your family treating you well? Boss, you finally remembered me, boohoo..
Ariel: If there's nothing else, I'm hanging up.
Person X: Hey boss, wait, I-

What happened to her being a country bumpkin? Wasn't she supposed to be poor and unwanted? What's with the fawning from an...underling?

One fine morning as she is heading to school, a stranger who looks like a Greek god suddenly shows up, is cold, ruthless, a workaholic, and keeps his distance from all women. His name is Bellamy Hunters. To everyone's surprise, he offers to give her a ride to school. Wasn't he supposed to hate women? What exactly happened?

The once known workaholic suddenly has a lot of free time on his hands, which he uses to chase after Ariel. Any negative comments about Ariel are always refuted by him.

One day his secretary came to him with a piece of news: "Boss, Ms.. Ariel broke someone's arm at school!"

The big shot just scoffs and answers, "Nonsense! She's too weak and timid! She can't even hurt a fly! Who dares make such rumors up?”

[WARNING 18+]
This book contains descriptive intimate and violent scenes. There could be triggering content like self-harm, drug addiction, and depression.
[TROPES]
Billionaire. Revenge. Second Chance. Escape while pregnant.

When Mellow Fanning married Zeath Lupin, the cold chairman of Lupin Group, she thought their love was forever. But everything crumbled when he introduced his pregnant mistress at a family dinner.
Angry, Mellow sought to make Zeath restless by kidnapping the mistress. However, that resulted in a tragedy that nearly claimed her life and that of the child growing inside her—a child Zeath didn’t deserve.
She faked her death and ran away, bound to return as Zeath’s only means to remain as the chairman of Lupin Group.
Would he recognize her? Would she accept his apology if he ever gave one? And what would happen when the threat she once fled from rekindled, endangering her and her child’s lives once more?











“Do you know how much I wished you wouldn’t come near me, or even... touch me?” Zeath drones on. “All those cuddles and kisses, all the affection, made my skin crawl—like a troll embracing its victim before gobbling them. One can only imagine how much it stinks. You are no different from that troll. You merely caught my attention because you were a self-absorbed twonk, and we needed to test if you even had the heart to love another.”
“We?” I croak out.
Then Zeath’s fingers trail gently along my face, his eyes glinting with pure poison, and his voice is no better.
“Poor Mellow, it is all a dare, a gratifying one. Divorce or not, it’s your choice.”

“Where are you going, Vesper?”

I looked at my husband’s hand blocking the elevator door—and then at Blythe standing behind him, wearing the smile of a woman who already believed she had won.

“Somewhere my child and I are not treated like tools.”

For eight years, I had built my life around Rhys Hawthorne. I worked beside him, protected his business, became his wife, and carried his child. But when I needed him most, he chose Blythe.

Then they accused me of a three-million-dollar corporate scandal, froze my access, blocked my resignation, and even withheld my acceptance letter to a prestigious design school in Milan.

They thought a pregnant woman had nowhere to go.

They were wrong.

With a professor, a lawyer, a trail of evidence—and my unborn daughter beside me—I am finally ready to fight back.

But there is one thing I still don't know…

Why is Blythe so desperate to keep me from leaving?

In my previous life, the apocalypse struck.
I fought desperately to protect the shelter, but she, overflowing with compassion, opened the door and let in infected people, causing the defenses to collapse completely and my only sister to die tragically.
Afterwards, she showed no remorse, instead turning around and currying favor with a warlord, enjoying privileges at the expense of her comrades. And I, in this betrayal, was devoured alive by a horde of zombies.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back three days before the tragedy.
Watching her once again attempt to morally blackmail everyone, and preparing to open that deadly door to demonstrate her "kindness," I threw her into the darkness.

"Stay with me, Luna. Please. I can't lose you both."
Her eyes were on mine and I could see the resolution and gratefulness in her eyes despite the pain.
"You never deserved us. We were too good for you. If I had another chance," she whispered slowly pausing to breathe, "I would never stay with you. I would save my son from your indifference. I would spare us both the pain of loving someone who never loved us back."
"I did love you," I insisted, tears rolling down my face. "I do love Ollie. Please, Luna."
"Next time," she promised, a smile on her lips and tears running down freely her side of her eyes, "we'll be free."


Luna has tried her best to make her forced marriage to Xen work for the sake of their child. But with Riley and Sophia- Xen's ex-girlfriend and her son in the picture. She fights a losing battle.
Ollie, Xen's son, is neglected by his father for a very long time, and he is also suffering from a mysterious sickness that's draining his life force.
When his last wish to have his dad come to his 5th birthday party is dashed by his failure to show up, Ollie dies in an accident after seeing his father celebrate Riley's birthday with Sophia, and it's displayed on the big advertising boards that fill the city.
Ollie dies, and Luna follows after, unable to bear the grief, dying in her mate's hands, cursing him and begging for a second chance to save her son.
Luna gets the opportunity and is woken up in the past, exactly one year to the day, Sophia and Riley show up.
But this time around, Luna is willing to get rid of everyone and anyone, even her mate, if he steps in her way to save her son.

"You're pathetic." Sophia's manicured nails dug into my shoulder. "A wolfless freak who thinks she can fight back?"

The storage room door slammed shut. The lock clicked.

My inhaler was in my locker. My lungs seized. Darkness crept in.

"Help..." I wheezed. "Please..."

But they were already walking away, laughing.

Lynette, the most feared Alpha in the Canadian territories who ruled through blood and ice, dies in an ambush—only to wake up as Elara Grey, a seventeen-year-old wolfless Omega who just suffocated to death from bullying.

The original Elara's life was pure torment. Humiliated by golden boy Blythe Harrison and his girlfriend Sophia Reign, then left to die gasping in a locked room. But that's not the worst part her family faces:

"Your adorable little family," the scarred mercenary held up their photo. "The black market's offering a million for you, Lynette. But them? They're just a bonus. I'll make sure they suffer as well."

Now Lynette's lethal instincts awaken in this fragile, asthmatic body.

She'll protect this family and destroy everyone who dared to hurt them—one brutal lesson at a time.

For my fiancée’s career, I was willing to be the ghost designer behind her for five years.

Until the day of the key bid, she stole the blueprint I had spent two sleepless years perfecting and signed it with the name of her useless first love.

The drawings are gone You can draw them again He needs this project to survive Be sensible she said, impatient when I confronted her

I did not argue My heart went cold I calmly left my engagement ring and my resignation letter and went to Europe

In just three months, without me, she became disgraced and buried in debt While I won Europe’s highest architectural gold award

I watched the once proud her soak in icy water for five hours just to earn a trace of my sympathy

I handed her a basic junior interview form with indifference Want to start over Report to the front desk Start with errands and work your way up

A Latte for Two isn’t just a romance it’s a journey into the magic of small moments that change everything. When Clara walks into a cozy little café in Maplewood, she doesn’t expect a spilled latte to lead her to Ethan, the man who will challenge her heart in ways she never imagined.
What begins with shy smiles and clumsy apologies slowly turns into something deeper late-night conversations, promises whispered over coffee, and the kind of love that makes ordinary mornings unforgettable. But with every tender moment comes a question: can the simple comforts of lattes and laughter withstand the uncertainties of real life?
Sweet, emotional, and utterly captivating,
A Latte for Two is a slow-burn romance that proves the greatest love stories aren’t built on grand gestures, but on the quiet, everyday moments that stay with us forever.
Fall in love with Clara and Ethan’s story and discover why sometimes, the smallest beginnings lead to the biggest happily-ever-afters.

The strongest Alpha—undefeated in battle. But fate plays a cruel joke when his fated mate turns out to be a simple human girl.
Can he win the hardest fight of all… when his greatest enemy is his own beast?
This is the story of Alina—a girl who once lost her faith in love and closed her heart for years. On her very first day at a new job, she manages to mess up in front of the one man she should have feared most: the cold and fearsome Alpha Wayland.
But what begins as punishment from the Alpha takes an unexpected turn.
Will the powerful leader be able to break his own rules and accept a human as his true mate?
Passion, humor, danger, harsh words, steamy scenes (18+), and a love that refuses to be denied.
Passion, humor, danger, harsh words, steamy scenes (18+), and a love that refuses to be denied.

My other books "No Escape From Fate", "The Price of Bought Passion"

Damian vs Grace: aloof, handsome heir vs brave, soft‑looking girl who makes the first move.
They fall; a bad misunderstanding sends her overseas. He chases, crashes, forgets... Five years later, at a crowded crosswalk, their eyes lock—
"My heartbeat recognized you before I did."

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?"

The heiress of the wealthiest family was dead. Her death was caused by a plane crash planned her adopted sister. At a young age of 17, she had mastered so many skills while conquering the world. A top professor in world-class healthcare, she topped the world hacker list, joined a mercenary group ten years ago and became the world's top assassin with more hidden talents she used with hidden identities.
After her death, she's reborn into another body known as a worthless piece of trash, an ugly fat kleptomaniac filled with scars and acne and a foolish prankster.
She was scorned by her parents and often schemed against by her twin sister. The people in the society often curse and avoid her like the plague.
Until unexpectedly her beauty suddenly came back in thousand fold and then they started to realise otherwise.
Her top agenda is to reclaim her identity back and take back her position that her scheming adopted sister stole from her at all cost!

Synopsis – The Beloved and Pampered Wife from Childhood of the CEO
Genre: Contemporary Romance / Family Drama / Suspense

From childhood friends to reluctant soulmates, Kian Sutton and Elena Madison were bound together by an innocent promise and a secret marriage. As heirs to two of New York’s most powerful families, their paths were scripted from the beginning—until tragedy, betrayal, and painful choices tore them apart.

Years later, Elena returns to New York—not as the pampered heiress she once was, but as a quiet storm determined to uncover the truth behind her mother’s mysterious death and the web of corruption buried deep within the Sutton Foundation. She’s no longer the shy, obedient girl Kian once knew. And she’s certainly not here for love.

Kian, now the cold and commanding CEO of Sutton Enterprises, never expected to see the wife who vanished without a trace. But her reappearance shatters the careful order of his life. She’s still legally his. Still tied to him in ways that make his board nervous and his heart ache.

As Elena digs deeper, enemies from both their pasts begin to circle—some willing to destroy the Sutton legacy, and others desperate to bury the truth forever. Tensions rise. Old feelings resurface. And Kian must choose between protecting his empire or standing beside the woman who might burn it all down to uncover justice.

In a world of power, wealth, and betrayal, love may be their greatest liability—or their only way out.

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.

My stepsister killed someone while driving high and made me take the fall.
She knelt in front of me, crying, "I'm so scared."
My mom snatched the only piece of evidence and told the police it was me.
My fiancé, Darian, took my hand and said, "Trust me. I'll marry you in three years."
Three years. Not one person came to see me.
The day I was released, it poured rain.
I clutched that engagement ring and walked back to that house.
The door was unlocked. The moment I pushed it open, I found him kissing my stepsister.
She spun around, ducking into Darian's arms.
"Sis... you're... you're out already?!"

Nerthus goes by many names.

Hiding from an unpleasant past, she keeps her true identity a secret while working as an escort.

As she covers an appointment with a mysterious new client for a sick colleague, she thinks it will be a one-night thing as he is known to never book an escort twice.

Until he books her again.

When her other clients start mysteriously canceling their appointments, she suddenly finds herself in a tricky, but quite alluring situation.

She tries everything to resist his irresistible temptations that threaten getting her fingers burnt.

But she risks it anyway.

Will Nerthus realize her mistake too late? And will she be able to resist her forbidden desire for her mysterious new client?

"Now. Listen," King Dane said. "You can come with me and be my sex slave where you'd get to satisfy your lewd urges or you can leave my car and go back to that pitiful life you have."
"The choice is yours."


At the age of ten, Princess Lusia Slater had watched her parents die before her. As a punishment for being blamed for their murder, her wolf is sealed away making her powerless and a slave to her uncontrollable heat.
Not being able to be banished because of her royal status, Lusia is turned into a slave by her elder brother, Finn Slater who assumes the Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack.
Lusia's life takes a turn when she meets Dane Haynes, the Lycan king of the Ironclaw Pack who is also an enemy of the Silvermoon Pack.
Dane offers Lusia freedom and a way to redemption in exchange for being his sex slave.
Lusia is seduced by the deal and accepts it immediately, not knowing what lies ahead for her outside the walls of her pack. She soon later realizes that King Dane has hidden dark secrets, especially about her pack...

As I stand on the precipice of my decision, the weight of uncertainty crushes me like a vice. My heart races, caught in a whirlwind of anxiety and desperation. I feel trapped in a gilded cage, the bars made of privilege yet twisted by fear. My father's cruel laughter echoes in my mind, a constant reminder of the torment that shadows my every move. I want to scream, to break free from this suffocating existence that he controls, but instead, I find myself drawn to the dangerous allure of my plan. Kidnapping. It sounds insane, even to me—a spoiled mafia prince, seeking out a notorious Alpha to take me captive. Yet here I am, on the brink of embarking on a treacherous journey to reclaim my life.

I've always been adept at playing games, and this one is no different. But as I seek out Stefano, a man with a reputation as dark and complex as the shadows that envelop me. He’s a rugged Alpha, hardened by a world that has chewed him up and spat him out, yet there’s a glimmer of something else in his piercing blue eyes—something I can't quite put my finger on.

What begins as a cold calculation morphs into an intoxicating dance of manipulation and desire. Stefano and I are drawn together like moths to a flame, each of us fighting our own demons while simultaneously igniting a fire that threatens to consume us both. I’m a player in a game where the stakes keep rising. Each encounter with him brings a new thrill, a new danger, and I start to wonder if I’m willing to risk everything—not just my life, but my heart.

In this chaos the only rules that it matters, is love and desire.

On my first day back in the country after studying abroad, my mother sent me to my fiancé’s company. I was to work low-profile as a secretary, just to slowly cultivate our relationship.
The moment I stepped into the office, a domineering woman started ordering me around, demanding I fetch her coffee.
I endured it.
That was until she deliberately spilled the coffee all over me. Only then did I realize that this woman—running amok in my fiancé’s company and treated like a queen by everyone—was his mistress.

In his eyes, I had always been "understanding." Understanding enough not to fight, not to make scenes, not to ask for status.

He said we couldn't go public now, but it was for our future.

Only later did I realize that his "future" never included me.

He chose power, chose arranged marriage, chose to keep me hidden. When I finally left, he started having regrets, started saying he loved me.

But by then I understood—he wasn't regretting losing me. He panicked because I was no longer obedient, no longer his.

So I never gave him another chance. I turned and walked away.

But that was only the first step.

I chose to let the truth surface at his moment of greatest triumph, to let him taste what it feels like to lose everything.

Ava Davis's POV:

I had just walked out of the abortion clinic when I got a call from John Williams' assistant.

"Ms. Davis, we've got a problem. Mr. Williams was photographed with four women at the same time, and the pictures are all over the internet. Reporters have blocked the company entrance."

I closed my eyes, feeling utterly exhausted.

My lower abdomen still ached, like something had been carved out of my body, but what hurt more was my heart—already battered and bruised by this marriage.

"Got it. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

After hanging up, I stuffed the medical records into my bag and walked out of the hospital. The sun outside was so bright I could barely open my eyes.

I raised my hand to shield them, suddenly remembering the first time I met John—the sun had been just as harsh that day.

I was only eighteen then, still a student, handing out flyers on the street when I got heatstroke. I was dizzy and about to collapse when John happened to pass by and caught me.

I remember his eyes—clear as lake water. His high cheekbones, thin lips pressed together with a hint of careless detachment.

In that moment, I fell. Like something had struck my heart, and from then on, there was no turning back.

Looking back now, I was pathetically stupid.

I'd been John's secretary for three years, helping him handle countless scandals. Few people knew that I'd actually been married to him for three years.

In our first year of marriage, he brought a female celebrity home for the night.

I remember sitting in the living room that night, waiting until 3 AM, hearing laughter from the bedroom.

I didn't push the door open. I just sat on the couch all night.

After that, it happened more and more, until I went numb.

I gave up five years of my marriage for nothing.

My son is dead. He died on his fifth birthday, waiting for his father to come home. But instead of his dad, a car accident took him. And his father? He was a thousand miles away, with another woman.

For five years, I put up with my husband's coldness and his family's constant humiliation. I thought having a child would melt his icy heart. I was wrong—so terribly, laughably wrong.

He couldn't even focus at our son's funeral—his eyes were only for his old flame, his "true love." It wasn't until I was on my deathbed that he finally shed those fake tears of regret. But it was too late. My child was gone. My love had died. And soon, I would be gone too.

This marriage, this whole life—it's all been one big joke. I just want to find my son as soon as I can. To tell him that his mother never gave up on him. To promise him that in another world, we'll never be apart again.

Seven days before the apocalypse, my vampire parents forced me to hand over three million to buy a house for my baby brother in full.

As an actuary, I knew that order would collapse in seven days and the money would become worthless. So I not only readily agreed, but also used their family's records as collateral to raise millions in high-interest loans, building an impregnable, top-secret fortress.

Seven days later, an unexpected change occurred.

The debt-collecting gangs and the endless horde of zombies drove them to the brink of despair. Meanwhile, I sat in a temperature-controlled safe house, sipping freshly ground coffee, calmly watching the cannibalistic karmic retribution unfold on the security camera.

In the apocalypse, there is no family affection, only the probability of survival.

The day manager Gregg shoved me into the freight elevator shaft, the nuclear winter outside had only just begun. As he slammed the gate shut, he said, "No one will find you dead down there; the insurance payout is enough to cover the shortfall." I died in the darkness at thirty degrees below zero. Then, I woke up. I was back on the afternoon he threw the contract in my face. This time, I didn't sign. I shoved the contract into the paper shredder, snatched the brass key ring from Supervisor Miller, locked every exit of the warehouse, and re-routed the entire building's heating system into my own command bunker. As Gregg licked ice off the frozen floor on the security monitor, I was sitting in the guard room, heating up a can of pork. Outside, the first snowflake fell. And this time, the ones who would be freezing to death were them.

Here is an adaptation crafted in the style of a bestselling contemporary Western psychological thriller or domestic drama hook, using fast-paced, high-tension American English:

For three years, I was the envy of Manhattan’s elite—the untouchable heiress with the flawless life.

My husband? The media constantly fawned over him, dubbing him "God’s gift to women" and the absolute epitome of a perfect gentleman.

Then came the video. The damn video that shattered it all.

Kneeling on the floor, wearing a thick leather collar like a pathetic stray, was the man I had loved deeply for years.

At the other end of the leash stood another woman, the stiletto of her red-soled Louboutin pressing ruthlessly into his cheek.

"Tell me, what are you?" she demanded.

"I'm Mistress Elena's dog," he whimpered. "I just want to get away from Sienna... I'm so sick of that suffocating bitch."

Every vow, every promise we ever made, instantly dissolved into a sick, twisted joke.

But instead of breaking down, I just smiled. And I hit save.

If he wanted to act like a dog so badly, I’d be more than happy to oblige. I was going to make sure he choked on that damn leash.

Eighty-eight times.
That was how many times I had put on a white dress, or packed my ID, heading to the registry office to marry Harrison Churchill. And eighty-eight times, I ended up in an ambulance.
The first time, it was a street drive-by. A bullet tore through my shoulder just two blocks from City Hall.
The fifteenth time, a car bomb shattered three of my ribs.
The forty-second time, a steel frame plummeted from a construction site, cracking my skull.
......And this time?
The eighty-eighth time. A massive cargo container "accidentally" slipped from a crane at the docks, crushing my car.
Maybe, it’s time to say goodbye.

The rain glistened over the harbor asphalt the night I meant to tell him I was pregnant — to lay out all my quiet hopes for our wedding and our future. That was the night I was stolen away.
I screamed for help from a city stitched with police tape and hollow warehouses, where every thread of trust had already frayed. The man who should have trusted me brushed my pleas aside.
As answers began to surface, what we once called love soured into guilt, consuming obsession, and cold, calculated cruelty. Blue gemstones glint amid burned‑away proof, storm‑lashed docks bear witness. And I am the voice they will never manage to bury.

[Warning: 18+ | Mature content with explicit scenes, abuse, non-consensual acts, and dark themes. Reader discretion advised.]
———
"Rip off those clothes and crawl like the filthy slave you are—dignity died the moment you became mine."_Lucian de Gaull

Her father destroyed his kingdom. Now, she belongs to him.

Ten years ago, Princess Elena stood above all—beautiful, noble, untouchable.
Ten years ago, Prince Lucian watched everything he loved burn—his kingdom, his family… his soul.

Now, he’s back. As a king. As a conqueror.
And he’s claimed Elena as the prize of war—his slave, his toy, his revenge.

“You’ll never have my heart,” she hissed.
“I don’t want your heart,” he smirked, “I just want to break it.”

But when hate turns into hunger, and punishment becomes pleasure, both will question everything.
She was supposed to suffer.
He was supposed to win.
Neither expected to fall.

"She doesn't even have a place to stay. She’d never dare to divorce me," my husband sneered, reassuring his mistress.

On the day of the horrific car crash, I was trapped inside a burning vehicle, screaming for help. My husband ignored my cries, picked up his mistress, and walked away without looking back.

That was the moment my heart died. I signed the divorce papers and vanished from his life.

But a month later, the very man who had treated me with absolute coldness was on his knees before me, his eyes bloodshot with tears.

This time, it’s his turn to beg.

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