444 Book(s) Related to new life game

Three years ago, my fiancée asked me to wait another three years at our own engagement party.
"He's looking out for me. You should understand."
Seeing her leave with her advisor, I married the noble lady who'd always loved me.
Now they all want me back. Too late.

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?!"

For three years, I was Julian Vance’s perfect shadow.

By day, I was the flawless executive secretary who kept his multi-billion-dollar empire running without a single hitch. By night, I was his secret, contract wife a convenient arrangement kept hidden behind the closed doors of his penthouse to satisfy a dying man's wish. I loved him in the quiet darkness, enduring his coldness, his family’s venom, and the cruel taunts of his elite childhood friend, Victoria.

But three months ago, the illusion shattered. When I was trapped in a hospital room losing our unborn child, Julian was on a red carpet with Victoria. His message to me through his assistant? “Do not interrupt important business meetings with minor domestic emergencies.”

That was the day Vivian Lane died.
The moment our three-year contract expires at midnight, I slide two papers across his mahogany desk: our signed divorce decree and my immediate resignation.

Julian scoffs, arrogant and completely convinced I’ll be crawling back to him within a month when my bank account dries up. He thinks I'm a penniless outcast with nowhere to turn.

He has no idea that while I was playing his submissive secretary, I was quietly building my own foundation. Now, his biggest corporate clients are jumping ship to my new boutique firm, and an international venture capital network has just hired a legendary, anonymous digital strategist known as "The Cipher" to engineer a hostile takeover of Vance Enterprises.

That strategist is me.
As his empire begins to bleed out brick by brick, the billionaire who once looked down on me finally drops to his knees. But I’m no longer his secretary, and I’m no longer his wife. If he wants me back, he’ll have to survive the ruin I’m about to bring to his doorstep.

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.

In my past life, we were camping in the wilderness area of a state park when my best friend handed out "lucky charms" to the whole group. Charms she'd secretly packed full of wildlife attractant.

A wild boar knocked me to the ground outside the cabin door. Its tusks tore into my stomach. I pounded on the wood with both fists, screaming. "Help! Open the door!"

Inside were my boyfriend of two years and the best friend I'd been quietly supporting for just as long. Autumn Warren.

"I'm so sorry, Brynn." Autumn's voice broke into sobs, but her weight stayed pressed hard against the door. "There are boars everywhere. We open that door, we're all dead."

"Just hold on! I'm calling 911!" Wyatt Fletcher's voice rang out with the kind of conviction that cost him absolutely nothing.

I paid for that trip. I'd fallen behind because I'd stopped to pull Autumn along.

And they stood on the other side of that door, my blood soaking into the dirt, and locked me out.

I open my eyes. I'm back. It's the day we left.

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.

I am the lead architect of this massive virtual sandbox world.

To save my NPC wife from a fatal car crash, I enabled a cheat code for her and lied, claiming she was a "VIP player" paying to experience an immersive life-simulation game.

She bought it completely. Not only did she openly flaunt her wealth to buy off a male assistant in front of the whole company, but she also trampled all over me, treating me like a "low-level NPC."

"I am the absolute main character of this world, and the system will always bail me out. As for you, you're just a line of junk code. Get out of my sight immediately."

Watching her face become twisted and arrogant from the illusion of privilege, the last trace of warmth in my eyes completely died out.

I calmly signed my resignation, revoked all her financial shields and vitality armor with a single click, then logged off and returned to the real world.

I knew that the moment I left, stripped of my protection, she would be instantly swallowed alive by the brutal laws of survival.

Three days after the miscarriage, I dragged my body — still not healed — to a rooftop club in Manhattan.
All because tomorrow was Bradley's birthday.
I wanted to buy him a gift. With money I'd earned myself.
But just before I pushed open the door to the VVIP suite, I heard his voice.
"That broke girl from Brooklyn? She was just a bet. A toy I won."
I peered through the crack in the door.
The man who'd shown up every day in grease-stained coveralls, crying about how tight money was — that same man now stood in a tailored suit, a watch on his wrist that cost more than I made in a year.
Someone asked, "So what about your fiancée?"
Bradley laughed — easy, unbothered.
"The wedding's still on. Obviously."
I stood in the hallway, one hand pressed against my stomach, where the ache still hadn't left, and suddenly everything made sense.
Three years of love — fake. His poverty — fake. Even the part where I believed he'd loved me. Had that been fake too?
I didn't cry. I didn't storm in and demand answers.
I just looked down at the birthday gift in my hands.
And in that moment, I made my decision —I was done with him.

In his previous life, Evan risked his life to protect his fiancée and brothers in the apocalypse, only to be pushed off the fortress and fed to zombies. She thought she had obtained the address of the supply warehouse, but he had already been watching her affair with her lover on surveillance cameras.

Thinking she had his Noah's Ark, she was thrown into an empty warehouse on the day the virus broke out, and then sold as a bargaining chip by the mob.

When the zombie horde surged in, his former "white moonlight" and "true love" knelt before the fortress gate, begging him to open it.

Evan coldly uttered: "This time, it's your turn to taste despair."

My wife is upstairs with another man—her first love.
But I don't want to fight about it.
I'm not staying here because of her.
Her father once saved my father's life. I'm here to repay that debt.
So they pushed even further.
She wants me to give way to her first love.
Give up my seat at dinner, my trust fund eligibility, my position as family consigliere, even our couple's travel tickets.
Fine. Have it your way.
I'm leaving to go back to being the Don I was meant to be.
Hope your family can survive the mafia wars without me.

He once swore the whole world to me，yet he threw me aside without a second thought，all for his precious adopted sister.
He trampled on my love, ruined my youth, and let me fall into the abyss alone while doting on another woman.
Years later, I return from the ashes, powerful and cold.
I will step into his world, shatter his fame, destroy his fortune, and take away everything he holds dear.
He abandoned me for his adopted sister.
Now, I am his inevitable ruin.

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.

Five years ago, my sister vanished the night before her wedding. She left behind a crying newborn in a crib and a mafia heir on the verge of losing control.

And I was forced into her place—the temporary bride, the contract wife, the whispered “replacement” in every gilded hallway.

I thought I only had to survive five years. Five years to earn what I was promised, and then walk away from this city of shadows and blood.

I clawed my way through bullets, politics, and betrayal. I earned respect. I gained power.
And somehow... I tasted a tenderness I was never meant to have.

Now, with only ten days left on our marriage contract, I thought everything was finally under control. I thought freedom and power were within reach.

Until she came back—wrapped in grace, dripping secrets, smiling as if she owned the world she abandoned.

She looked at me and said, “Little sister, give me back my life.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everyone knows that Qin Sicheng is desperately in love with me. To cure my depression, he gave up the opportunity to study abroad and stayed by my side.
But on the day of my birthday banquet, he disappeared.
When I found him in a corner of the back garden, he was pitifully clutching the hem of my best friend Qiao Anran's dress.
That man—usually so devoted and obedient to me—now had red-rimmed eyes and a trembling voice.
"Anran, how much longer do I have to keep acting? Lin Jiaqi is already better. Please, just look back at me, won't you?"
Qiao Anran closed her eyes, her face twisted in pain, then coldly pushed him away.
"Qin Sicheng, I'll say it again: as long as Lin Jiaqi is alive, you can only be her husband. This is what you owe me, and what I owe the Lin family."
I covered my mouth, staring at the diamond ring he had just given me, my heart shattering completely.
So the husband who had always loved me so deeply—it was all an act.

Before the zombie outbreak, I was a hardcore doomsday prepper. I hoarded countless supplies, but when the apocalypse actually arrived, I ended up turning into a zombie myself. Just as I was overwhelmed with panic, my girlfriend and the guy she was cheating on me with brought a mob of thugs to smash down my door...

At the Jones family’s political marriage gala, the New York mafia’s most public “celebration”, I, Isabella Rossi, who was a bargaining chip, had been Donovan Jones’s wife for five years.
He was the world’s top perfumer, the kind of man who could coax a scent from his fingertips that made people go mad-and yet, to him, I was a flower with no fragrance at all.
Five years of this marriage, and he had never touched me. The villa’s master bedroom was always his alone, while I was nothing but the “Mrs. Jones” in name-a decorative prop trapped in a luxury cage, so insignificant that even the servants dared to look down on me in secret.
When both sets of parents pressured us for a baby, he wrapped an arm around a famous model and sneered,
“A woman raised off a template like you is only good for taking care of a kid, not for sleeping with.”
He left me behind in the bridal suite-with his younger brother.
Then he took his new fling out street-racing.
That same night, a video of him and the model hooking up in a car shot straight to the top of the entertainment headlines.
And I became New York media’s favorite punchline: the “DISCARDED TROPHY WIFE.”
Just when everyone thought I’d spend the night alone, guarding an empty bed,
I crooked a finger at that eight-pack, absurdly good-looking brother-in-law of mine.
Donovan, you’re right-I am pretty suited to “taking care of a kid.”
Just not a baby. A 6'2", baby-faced college boy.

"NEXT DOOR is full of completely unexpected twists—you will read it on the edge of your chair. It is Blake Pierce at his best! Another masterpiece of suspense and mystery. I highly recommend it to the permanent library of all readers that appreciate an excellent thriller, full of psychological suspense and with a completely unexpected ending. This is the first in what promises to be another excellent series. I can hardly wait to read the sequel."--Books and Movie Reviews, Roberto MattosA NEIGHBOR’S LIE (A Chloe Fine Mystery) is book #2 in a new psychological suspense series by bestselling author Blake Pierce, whose #1 bestseller Once Gone (Book #1) (a free download) has over 1,000 five-star reviews. FBI Violent Crimes Division Special Agent Chloe Fine, 27, still reeling from the secrets of her past, finds herself thrown into her first case: the murder of a nanny in a seemingly perfect suburban town.Immersed in a world of secrets, of unfaithful couples, of pretense and artifice, Chloe soon realizes that anyone—and everyone—may be guilty. Yet at the same time, with her own father still in jail, she must battle her own demons and unravel her own secrets, which threaten to bring her down before her own career even begins.An emotionally wrought psychological suspense with layered characters, small-town ambiance and heart-pounding suspense, A NEIGHBOR’S LIE is book #2 in a riveting new series that will leave you turning pages late into the night. Book #3 in the CHLOE FINE series will be available soon.

“Sophie Love's ability to impart magic to her readers is exquisitely wrought in powerfully evocative phrases and descriptions….FOR NOW AND FOREVER is the perfect romance or beach read, with a difference: its enthusiasm and beautiful descriptions offer an unexpected attention to the complexity of not just evolving love, but evolving psyches. It's a delightful recommendation for romance readers looking for a touch more complexity from their romance reads.”--Midwest Book Review (Diane Donovan) “FOR NOW AND FOREVER is a very well written novel, describing the struggle of a woman (Emily) to find her true identity. The author did an amazing job with the creation of the characters and her description of the environment. The romance is there, but not overdosed. Kudos to the author for this amazing start of a series that promises to be very entertaining.”--Books and Movies Reviews, Roberto MattosEmily Mitchell, 35, living and working in New York City, has struggled through a string of failed relationships. When her boyfriend of 7 years takes her out for their long-awaited anniversary dinner, Emily is sure that this time will be different, that this time she will finally get the ring.When he gives her a small bottle of perfume instead, Emily knows the time has come to break up with him—and for her entire life to have a fresh start.Reeling from her unsatisfying, high-pressure life, Emily decides she needs a change. She decides on a whim to drive to her father’s abandoned home on the coast of Maine, a sprawling, historic house where she’d spent magical summers as a child. But the house, long-neglected, is in dire need of repair, and the winter is no time to be in Maine. Emily hasn’t been there in 20 years, when a tragic accident changed her sister’s life and shattered her family. Her parents divorced, her father disappeared, and Emily was never able to bring herself to step foot in that house again.Now, for some reason, with her life reeling, Emily feels drawn to the only childhood place she ever knew. She plans on going just for a weekend, to clear her head. But something about the house, its numerous secrets, its memories of her father, its oceanfront allure, its small-town setting—and most of all, its gorgeous, mysterious caretaker—doesn’t want to let her leave. Can she find the answers she’s been looking for here, in the most unexpected place of all?Can a weekend become a lifetime?FOR NOW AND FOREVER is book #1 in the debut of a dazzling new romance series that will make you laugh, make you cry, will keep you turning pages late into the night—and will make you fall in love with romance all over again.Book #2 will be available soon.

Translation

Zombies besieged the city. I fought through the infected zone alone and brought back the vaccine.

All of humanity hailed me as their savior.

But at the medal ceremony, my superior and fiancée Amy shoved me aside. "You're covered in blood. Stand over there. Would it kill you to be more like David?"

"A man who can't even bear to look at violence—that's what a civilized person looks like."

For the sake of being her idea of civilized, I locked away my weapons and spent three years as her errand boy. I took countless bullets meant for her, and still she complained I wasn't gentle enough.

Then the virus mutated. To save David, I crushed a Tyrant's skull with my bare hands.

She threw her arms around the trembling David, slammed the table, and screamed at me: "If you don't get this violent streak under control, you can forget about being the Chief's husband. Apologize to David. Now."

The vaccine I'd risked my life for—she used every last drop of it to win favor with her pretty boy.

I ejected the magazine from my rifle and tossed my medal into the rubble.

"That position of yours? Give it to whoever you want."

At the dinner party, Alexander had his arm around my waist, chatting and laughing with clients in German.
I was about to tell him the happy news that I was pregnant.
He was tender and affectionate in front of me, kissing my cheek from time to time.
But they didn't know my German was fluent enough to understand every dirty detail.
Like right now, I heard him bragging to the client about how wild things got last night with his stepsister Lillian.

Not long after I transferred to this school, I became the bullies’ favorite target.
They didn’t like how quiet I was or how pale I looked, so they casually slapped me with a nickname: “vampire.”
It started with shoves in the hallway and jeers in the classroom, escalated to messing with my drink, then stuffing trash into my locker.
They treated my silence as permission and wrapped every provocation in the same excuse: “Just a joke.”
Until that night, when humiliation wasn’t enough. They lured me into a tiny storage room behind the auditorium—locked the door, killed the lights, set up a fixed camera—ready to strap me to a chair and film an “execution” video that would make sure I could never hold my head up at this school again.
What they didn’t know was that the nickname wasn’t a joke. It was the one time they got the truth right.
I really am a vampire.

On our first wedding anniversary, I walked into my husband's office and found him having sex with my best friend.

He didn't even apologize. Instead, claiming he was disgusted that I hadn't produced an heir in a year of marriage, he threw divorce papers in my face.

Five years later, I returned to New York with my new husband—Cassian Vitiello, the Godfather of the North American underworld.

Vincent ran into me at the docks. He handed me a business card, offering me a job as a nanny for his mistress's son.

What he didn't know was that the woman he was mocking was now the Donna—the woman the entire East Coast underground feared.

A hundred years ago, I was the strongest Delta the Silver Moon Pack had ever produced.

Born with the God Bone, unmatched in power, I had Royal Guard recruiters showing up at my door three times, waiting for me to say yes. The whole pack assumed I'd lead them to glory.

Then came that night. My own family dragged me to the altar in the frozen vault.

My mother cried and said, "Lacey was born broken. Without the God Bone, she'll die."

"You're the older sister. You're strong. You'll survive without it."

I refused.

Grant, my fiancé, pulled the knife on me. Brandon, my brother, pinned down my arms and legs. My parents watched from the shadows, saying nothing.

"Don't be so selfish."

They carved the God Bone out of my body, drained every drop of my heart's blood, and threw me into a vault fifty degrees below zero.

My sister took everything that was mine and became the golden girl everyone adored.

A hundred years passed. I became the Supreme Commander of the Royal Guard.

This year, during recruitment, my adjutant handed me the candidate list. I saw a familiar name and smiled. I picked up my pen and crossed it out.

"Doesn't meet the requirements. Denied."

What if your husband lived a double life and you are the fake wife?

I woke up to my husband celebrating our baby's death. He had poisoned me with abortion pills so he could marry Catherine Morrison-the rich woman he thinks is better than me and pregnant with what he thinks is his child.

I overheard him laughing; 'if she shows up somewhere demanding answers, I'll just say I've never seen her before in my life, Who are people going to believe? Me or some random girl from nowhere?'

David thought I had no evidence. He thought he had covered his tracks perfectly. He thought he was untouchable.

But when I'm done, he'll wish he never met me.

Seven years ago I gave up my inheritance and went door to door with Nolan—a broke director shooting street documentaries—my belly out to here, begging investors to take a chance on him.

Everyone said I'd thrown my life away on him.

Seven years later he's a name everyone knows. And Emily, the first love who walked out when he had nothing, is back in Chicago with her daughter.

That afternoon I came home early and heard him pull five-year-old Ivy into his arms: "You can't ever tell Mom that Daddy and Emily are having a fake wedding."

"But Daddy, Mom will be so sad..."

"Say one word and Daddy won't love you anymore. Got it?"

Her little shoulders shook as she nodded, and nodded.

Out in the hallway, I couldn't even be bothered to cry.

I dialed the number I'd kept blocked for seven years. "Dad—can the family plane still come get me and Ivy?"

Nolan, what you lost wasn't a housewife you could push around. You threw away the only person who ever made you her whole world.

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

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

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

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

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

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

In their eyes, my wife Emma—an Ivy League tenured professor in biological sciences—is ruthless, rational, and obsessively clean.
For seven years, even when she washed her hands, she would only ever touch the right-side sink—hers.
Until that night at 3 a.m., when I pulled a strand of sandy-golden short curl—hair that belonged to neither of us—out of my men’s shower loofah.
And around the neck of a pre-med student named Lucas, I saw the antique silver cross my dying father left in my hands.
When I confronted her, my always-icy wife protected the little homewrecker, slapped me across the face, and called me a jealous, controlling chauvinist.
She thought I’d swallow it like a coward.
But she forgot: as a top cardiothoracic chief, the thing I do best is cutting out tumors.

The system made me an outcast live-in husband in a werewolf clan for three years. The mission reward: 80 billion dollars. Now there's only half a day left until retirement settlement.

The arrogant pure-blood Alpha wants to force me into a deadly full moon execution array, roaring for me to kneel and die.

I don't even lift an eyelid. Right at quitting time, I directly withdraw my soul, leaving the body to the original owner "Ancestor Wolf Emperor" to handle, while I return to my Manhattan penthouse, sink into the leather sofa, and start a holographic livestream.

"Enjoy your night shift, everyone." I take a light sip of hot coffee, coldly watching the screen as the Wolf Emperor crushes that pure-blood Alpha's spine into mush with one foot, shocking my mission wife and mother-in-law into idiots.

I am the leader of the world's largest mercenary group. After retiring, I went to work as a bodyguard at the home of the woman who saved my life.
I hid my identity, wanting only to protect the woman who had saved me — until one day, her family fell into crisis. Everyone came to bully her, take everything she had, and even force her out onto the streets.
I stopped hiding and stepped forward. Anyone who dares to harm her will pay the price!

Three years ago, I gave up everything and went to prison in my younger brother's place. After getting out, they humiliated me and even made me sleep in the storage room. Everyone mocked me as a murderer, called me trash. My fiancée's parents also looked down on me.
But they didn't know that during those three years in prison, with the help of a mysterious old man, I had already awakened as an alpha werewolf...

He was once the supreme commander who guarded the frontier for five long years.

When he finally returned home, he discovered a nightmare waiting for him.

His young daughter had been brutally tortured by the mafia, her blood nearly drained from her body.

His wife had suffered endless humiliation at the hands of a ruthless crime lord.

In her darkest moment, the little girl cried out in despair:

"Daddy, where are you? Please save me!"

The moment he heard her plea, his fury became unstoppable.

Alone, he stormed through the enemy's territory and wiped out the entire criminal syndicate.

When powerful families and elite assassin organizations joined forces to crush him, he sent only a single message.

Within hours, armies, mercenaries, and loyal allies from every corner of the world answered his call.

Those who dare harm his daughter will pay with their lives.

The king has returned.

And this time, there will be no mercy.

I used to be an ordinary person — until one day, my younger brother killed someone.
Everyone got down on their knees, begging me to save him. So I took his place and went to prison.
On the day I was released, my fiancée Teresa publicly broke off the engagement: "A convict like you doesn't deserve me!"
My adoptive parents disowned me on the spot and kicked me out: "You're a murderer. We don't care if you live or die!"
I agreed to everything right then and there.
But when they found out who I really was, they regretted it.

"And now, he's certain your life is over because he kicked you out. They're probably already placing bets on how long it will take for you to bow and beg at their feet to take you back. But..." He said coldly.

"But..." I breathed.

"Imagine suddenly returning with a husband so wealthy he makes them look like paupers. Not only is he filthy rich, but he's hopelessly in love with you, spoiling you rotten. Imagine their shock, their anger, and your satisfaction that you have exceeded their expectations. Won't that be fulfilling?"

"And... who would that husband be?" I whispered.

"Me." He grinned as he caressed my cheek. "Let's get married, my dear Iris."

••~•

After being humiliated and disowned on her wedding day, Iris is suddenly approached by Gordon Graff, the enigmatic and highly controversial billionaire and also her ex's uncle, who asks for her hand in marriage.

His goal: make her family and ex pay for everything they've done to her.

But what happens when the line between pretence and true love begins to blur, and dangerous secrets begin to unfold?

Will the man who has promised to protect her be her doom? And will she be a casualty in his dangerous game of revenge?

Corvus grabbed my jaw, his fingers dug into my cheeks, and my lungs squeezed at his choking aura.

"I will never marry you, Miss Shepherd. And if you dare come near me again, I'll slit your throat." He growled, and my stomach dropped.

It wasn't a threat; it was a promise.

••••~•

A messy, drugged one-night stand gave Zuri Shepherd the marriage she desperately needed—only to discover her husband was a monster. Corvus Vane, the alpha of Bloodhound pack, was a terrifying beast from her nightmares. A cruel and emotionless predator feared by his kind.

To each other, they were inconvenient tools.

He needed her body to manage his curse. She needed his blood for the perfect revenge.

But her soul craved every bit of that beast.

She needed his intoxicating lips, his seductive touch, and his sinful body over hers while he brought her pleasure in a way no beast should.

Now she's torn between her burning desire and her duty to fulfil. Will she lose herself to the passion or use it against him? Will she damn their souls this time?

"I knew I wanted you right from first glance and I came for you."
"Let go of me!!!" I yelled back but when his fingers connected to my skin, I gasped and a moan escaped my lips.
"Do you not like this, my pet?"
I looked at my captor, hunger shooting to my spine and my thighs in heat. I swallowed hard and I gave a nod. "I like it, Daddy."

Kidnapped by a ruthless Mafia Lord, Nora should be scared of her fate but deep down, this monster isn't really a monster. Is it not her fate that she was made for a ruthless mafia?

After she gets cheated on, all Melissa wanted was to get drunk and wasted to numb the pain but when she's too drunk to think, she made a pass at a man who took her home.

Not only is he a renowned business man, he is her boyfriend's father.

She plans to get her revenge with Marcus Hills, a man eighteen years older than her but how does she draw the thin line between revenge and love when she finds out she's pregnant for this man?

Billionaire Bennett Graham urgently needed a wife to close a business deal but his fiancée wasn’t ready to tie the knots yet. So his grandmother picked the most unassuming maid for him. Everything was supposed to go incredibly well, and all he had to do was wait until he divorced her a year later. But after seeing Maliyah’s ocean eyes…it wasn’t looking simple anymore. *** Before I could get her up, it was as if she felt the light and an uncomfortable sound came out of her mouth. "Uh-huh..." She raised her hand to cover her eyes. But I didn't have time to wait for her to wake up, so I told her to "Get Up." My voice seemed to scare her, and her light-fearing eyes suddenly widened and she kept moving to the corner. The only voice in the quiet art room was her fear-filled voice, "No...please...go away...don't come close to me." She was afraid of me? I hadn't even spoken to her before, what was she afraid of? This was definitely not going to work, I couldn't talk to her if she couldn't calm down. Then I moved closer to her, my hand on her trembling shoulder, and I whispered soothingly “Calm down.I’m not going to hurt you.I’m not going to hurt you.”I assured and then she moved her hair away from her face as if to stare at me properly. Our eyes met.It was that moment. It felt as if I was enchanted for a moment. Those ocean eyes were the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.