34 Book(s) Related to everyn't

Everyone Knew But Me

I thought I had it all—
the perfect boyfriend,
the perfect best friend,
the perfect life.

Until the night everything fell apart.

One party. One moment. One truth I was never supposed to hear.

They weren’t just sneaking around…
they had been together for a year.

A year of lies.
A year of secrets.
A year of everyone knowing—except me.

Humiliated and heartbroken, I run. I don’t think, I don’t stop—I just need to get away.

And that’s when I crash into him.

A stranger with steady hands and a dangerous kind of calm.
A boy who looks at me like I matter… like I’m not invisible… like I’m worth choosing.

For the first time all night, I feel seen.

There’s just one problem.

He’s the quarterback of our rival team.

And in a world where loyalty is everything and reputations are built on Friday night lights, getting involved with him isn’t just risky—it’s a mistake waiting to happen.

But the more I try to stay away, the harder it becomes.

Because while my ex broke me…
this boy might be the one who puts me back together.

Or destroys me in a completely different way.

Now I have a choice to make:

Go back to the life that betrayed me…
or risk everything for the one person who never lied.

I'm a con artist. My real name is Imogen Vance, and almost nobody alive knows it. That's the whole point. You can't catch a woman who doesn't exist.
My last job before I quit for good: get close to Graham Fenwick, the coldest CEO in Castryn, and walk out with the files that could ruin him. One month. One mask. Then I disappear forever.
Then the news breaks. Imogen Vance was seen at a crime scene across town. Imogen Vance moved half a million dollars through a bank I've never touched. Imogen Vance is suddenly everywhere, except I never left my apartment.
Someone stole the one thing I never let anyone touch: my name. And the man I came here to rob is the same man now hunting that name down, ready to burn the city to find her.
He doesn't know I'm her. I don't know he's already found me.
In a city where everyone wears a mask by law, falling for the man hunting you might be the only crime I can't talk my way out of.

1

Julie has never belonged anywhere. After her mother passed away, Julie moved with her father and brother to Ravensworth, seeking a new beginning despite her skepticism about second opportunities. The kindergarten teaching position at Juncasa Academy becomes her only option to support her family after she accepts the job at the prestigious school that seems out of place in this small town. Budapest hides secrets beyond its surface appearance because Vladimir Peters controls the city with his commanding presence and his burning stare that promises something unspoken to Julie. She detects an uncomfortable feeling from his constant observation, which she cannot explain. She fights against the magnetic force that draws her toward him.
The new role at Budapest brings Julie unsettling dreams that contain memories that do not belong to her and nocturnal voices that call out her name. The Midnight Grove forest near her home triggers an unknown power within Julie when she enters its forbidden territory. She approaches too near to the forest and discovers their presence. The wolves. Watching her and waiting for her.
She recognizes the eyes of one wolf among them.

“Don’t worry, Selena. Everyone will forgive you if you fail.”

Those were the words my stepmother whispered before she pushed me into the biggest humiliation of my life.

In my past life, I was the foolish Windsor heiress who lost everything. My family abandoned me, my reputation was destroyed, and the people I trusted buried me alive in a nightmare I could never escape.

But fate gave me a second chance.

Now, I am no longer the weak girl they controlled. I remember every lie, every betrayal, and every trap waiting for me. I will reclaim my mother’s jewelry empire, expose those who stole my life, and make every enemy pay.

But when the coldest lawyer in New York, Damian Cross, steps into my revenge plan, he sees the woman I have become—not the girl everyone despised.

The only question is…

Will he help me destroy my enemies, or will he uncover the darkest secret behind my rebirth?

I used to be the Rosewood family's most beloved youngest daughter, until they took in Sabrina as their adopted daughter and everything changed.
My family said Sabrina's father saved my life, that I owed her everything. They forced me to donate blood for Sabrina until I was drained dry, demanded I give her my heart, and I died a miserable death on Christmas Eve.
As I lay dying, I could still hear them discussing how to throw Sabrina 'a unique Christmas party' to celebrate her recovery.
When I opened my eyes again, I'd been reborn, sent back to the day they first forced me to donate blood years ago.
This time, I yanked out the needle myself and slammed the family severance papers at their shocked faces. "The papers are signed. From now on, I have nothing to do with the Rosewoods."
Later, I became Nicholas Harrington's bride, taking on the surname that commanded worldwide respect. My designs swept across the globe, my name shining on the international stage, while the Rosewood family went bankrupt. My brothers knelt outside the Harrington estate, sobbing and begging for my forgiveness.
I stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching coldly. Nicholas wrapped his arms around me from behind, his chin resting gently against my hair, and murmured adoringly, "My princess, I've acquired the Rosewood family. It's yours now."

The smell of antiseptic, the sharp sting of restraints biting into my flesh, and the pitying look on Silas's face as he stood by my hospital bed.
"Maeve, you're so sick. The baby is just a hallucination."
In my last life, consumed by despair and self-doubt, I threw myself off the roof of the psychiatric hospital.
But now, my eyes snapped open, my hands instinctively flying to protect my stomach.
My baby is still here!
I'm back—exactly one week before my child disappeared.

I have a condition that multiplies pain by ten thousand. A paper cut can put me on the floor. Chasing a cure is how I ended up owing money to a loan shark.
He came to collect in person. I was on the floor of a basement in the South End, mid attack, with him standing over me, when Sevrin Voss kicked the door in. He broke both of the man's arms, crouched down on the filthy concrete, and pulled me against his chest.
And the pain stopped. Just stopped.
By morning he had paid off my debt. By the end of the day he owned me. Three hundred thousand, plus a private medical team, plus a penthouse I never asked for. Then he put a contract in front of me. Absolute obedience. No leaving.
He says the white pills will keep me alive, and I've been taking them.
So why does he still come to my room every night and hold me until morning?

The club is dragging everyone out to a tomb Blair Whitmore's family dug up in Egypt, and nobody asked if this was a good idea.

She even brings some so-called expert along. Everyone crowds around the dark opening, practically shaking with excitement.

I'm the only one who tries to stop it.

"There's a mechanism in there. It's dangerous. We shouldn't go in. We need to report it to the antiquities authority first."

They just laugh at me.

"God, Blair, you're unbelievable. Untouched site like this and you just land it."

"Right, and some people never say two words all semester and now they want in on the action."

My palms are sweating. They don't know I come from a family of manuscript conservators. I grew up surrounded by dead languages and schematics for ancient mechanisms. What nobody else can read, I read clearly.

The stele at the entrance is carved with Egyptian hieroglyphs, and the warning is not subtle:

Whoever enters here will lose their soul to the void, and their bones will turn to dust.

My long-lost twin sister has returned.
The first thing she did was demand to marry my fiancé.
Jayden, murmuring apologies, held her close as they walked into the city hall.
My family urged me to be generous, saying, "After all she’s been through, you owe her this much. You've had a good life all these years—why not let her have this?"
Until the day of their wedding, no one could find me.
But what they didn't know was that my body had been drifting at sea for over ten days.

On a storm-stranded island villa, Clara Hayes wakes after a vicious bachelorette party to find four women dead—among them her former best friend, bride-to-be Vivian Sterling. Branded the obvious killer, the discarded ex must fight a locked-room mystery, class prejudice, and a carefully staged narrative as buried trauma, betrayal, and revenge surface through rain-soaked glass, shattered flutes, burned letters, and one untouched bottle of soda.

Twenty-six-year-old forensic sketch artist Ivy Rowan survives an attack that should have killed her. Three years later, she still cannot explain the ability it left behind. Every time she touches an object tied to a murder, she sees flashes of the victim's final moments. No one at the department believes her, until Detective Callum Ashby walks into her life investigating a break-in that feels far too familiar. He is chasing his own ghost, an older sister taken by the same kind of violence twenty years ago, and he needs Ivy's visions to be real. As the two dig through the city's oldest unsolved murders, they uncover a pattern that reaches inside the department itself. The killer they are hunting has been watching Ivy long before Callum ever knocked on her door, and he has been waiting patiently for her to remember the one detail that could end him. Now he wants her silence, permanently.

Grace Green grew up in the Green family as the only child and heiress, but that changed when they discovered that she wasn’t their biological daughter. She died in her fiancée hand’s hands due to her ‘new’ sister's schemes.
REBORN, all she wants is to stay far away from the real heiress and find her biological parents, which has been her deepest regret in her past life.
However, things don’t go as she plans as she catches the eye of the most feared and laziest man in their class, causing the man to always follow her, cleaning the mess she leaves after dealing with everyone who plots against her.
Her adopted parents and new sister? They pamper her endlessly, treating her like a treasure.

They pulled my husband Beckett’s car out of the Avery River at four in the morning.
I was sitting in the reception area of the Ardenvale police station, having waited all night. Everyone thought I was just the pathetic wife—the one who had been humiliated at her mother-in-law’s birthday banquet, went home early, and panicked when her husband never returned.
No one knew that from the moment I dialed 911, this was exactly the news I had been waiting for.
He was dead. And I was the one who made it happen.

My father said an honest man can't run a farm. My brother called me nothing but a burden. My ex-girlfriend dropped her engagement ring into a glass of champagne and handed it back to me. They all thought I was worthless. None of them knew I'd been reborn, and had stockpiled five years' worth of supplies in the cold storage. When the blizzard hit, the walkie-talkie crackled to life. I heard their cries and the unspoken thoughts swirling inside their heads. Really? You're still trying to scheme against me right now?

Five years ago, my biological parents brought me back from the orphanage to the Blue Moon Pack, and suddenly, I was the so-called true Alpha heir.
But my return ruined everything for the fake Alpha heir, Yolanda.
She teamed up with some rogue wolves to kidnap me, then ran me down with her own car, crushing my legs. I went from being the pack’s golden girl to a cripple stuck in a wheelchair.
I thought my parents would get justice for me. I thought my fated mate, Joseph, actually loved me.
But five years later, I found out the truth: Yolanda never died.
My biological parents hid her away, and she's been living a rich, easy life. Joseph already had pups with her, and the only reason he married me was to get me to sign a letter forgiving Yolanda.
Even my treatment for the past five years? A total setup.
They never wanted me to heal. They never wanted me to walk again. They just wanted me helpless, someone they could control forever.
That's when it finally hit me.
The family, the love, the

I thought the scariest thing in school was the jock who harassed me. But then he vanished without a trace, and everyone blamed me.

There is no strong evidence to lock me away, so I walk the school hallways trapped in a living hell. The police watch my every move, the town hates me, and my adoptive parents treat me like an unwanted curse in their home.

Desperate to clear my name, I didn't realize the real danger was living right next door.

Xavi Moreau is the quiet, haunting boy who looks right through me. He doesn't live with his family; he lives alone in his own place. To the world, he is a handsome party guy who drinks, smiles, and blends into the crowd.

But I noticed the truth. His smiles are fake. His laughter never reaches his cold eyes. He is just copying the emotions of others to hide a dark, hollow soul.

When he notices my stares, his obsession shifts entirely to me.

Every single time he approaches me, I push him away. I deny him. I fight his terrifying presence with every ounce of strength I have left. But Xavi doesn't back down. He offers me the one thing I desperately need: a promise to find the truth and clear my name.

I wanted to find a killer to save myself, but the killer has already found me, and he has no intention of letting me go.

I built Elias’s billion-dollar FinTech core system from the ground up. We once endured countless late nights in a basement, vowing to stick together. After the IPO, he grew obsessed with his fragile step-sister Mia. He shared my confidential code with her, ignored my pregnancy emergency, and lost our baby while comforting her. He even erased the secret love note I hid on page three of our architecture. Months later, his business crumbled, and he begged me for forgiveness with diamonds and his CEO resignation. But every chance he had is gone. I’ve built my own thriving tech company, and I’m never coming back.

My husband Spencer quit his job to manage a rising model's career. In six months, she dropped the weight, blew up online, and turned into a supermodel — magazine covers, major runways, deal after deal.

Meanwhile, I watch myself expand by the day. Bloated. Double chin forming. Skin getting worse.

The whole world calls me greedy, lazy, out of control. Even my parents call to tell me to watch what I eat. And there's nothing I can say to make anyone understand.

Then one night, I catch them on the balcony, voices low, thinking no one can hear: "Forget about that fat cow. Once she drops dead, the house and the insurance are all ours."

That's when it finally makes sense.

Camille has a system tied to her. And it's tied to me.

Every pound I gain, she loses one.

I'm the fuel. The stepping stone. The inheritance they're waiting to collect.

She gets thin while I get fat?

So as long as I keep eating, she keeps losing weight?

Good.

I go ahead and spend a hundred grand booking a reclusive private chef for a full month. No limits on ingredients, price doesn't matter. The more extravagant, the better.

I'm going to eat whatever I want and actually enjoy my life.

Let's see how long she stays thin while I'm out here actually living my life.

They call it an "alpha team," boasting about our million-dollar AI equipment. I thought I just had terrible luck at work—the scanner bruising my arm, the coffee maker intentionally scalding me. Trapped by a $500,000 resignation penalty, I must survive tonight’s overtime. But in the dark copy room, the shredder is... breathing.

"Priest, I'm requesting to transfer my registry to the Forbidden Lands. And I need the materials to forge a Moonshadow Puppet. In three days, it will stand in my place at the mating altar."

I spoke into the communication rune in my palm.

From the other end, the Moon Priest's voice spiked with warning. "Aria, do you have any idea what you're saying? The Forbidden Lands is an abyss of no return! It's ruled by the Lycans. You don't even have a wolf spirit—walking in there is a death sentence!"

"My decision is final."

After a long beat, his heavy, suppressed sigh echoed through. "Using a puppet substitute is an act of absolute blasphemy against the Moon Goddess... You've waited for Kaelen for so many years. Why walk away now?"

"Because a puppet will never betray a sacred vow."

Three years of marriage. Three pregnancies.

Every time I confirmed I was pregnant, my sister-in-law Ophelia would walk into the chapel behind the manor.

Then my in-laws would drag me to the hospital and force me to abort the healthy baby.

The night after my third miscarriage, I dragged my weakened body to follow her into the chapel.

The moment I pushed open that door, my blood ran cold.

In that instant, I finally understood why my three children had to die.

Irene was in a relationship with her fiance Perry for seven years.
On the day before her wedding, she witnessed her bestie having sex with her fiance in her wedding room.
To take revenge on Perry, she had one-night stand with Perry's boss--Nathan.
Nathan was super-rich and irresistibly attractive. Obviously, he was much better than Perry in all aspects.
Coincidentally, Irene ran into this shameless couple in the shopping mall. Her bestie teased her that no one would fancy a girl like her.
She happened to see Nathan and made a hint to him. Then Nathan went by and kissed Irene, "Sweetie, why do you leave me alone in bed this morning?"

On the day of my prenatal checkup, I found out my husband, Caleb, was sleeping with his student.
That night, I spiked his Pinot Noir with poison. I watched him collapse, convulse, and take his agonizing last breath. Then, I dragged his body into the basement and sealed it inside an oak wine barrel.
For five years, I raised our daughter, Nora, on my own. I thought the secret would rot in the dark forever.
Until she told me: Daddy speaks to her from under the floorboards every night. His voice sounds muffled, like he’s talking through a thick blanket...

My mother was dying, and I—the fallen heiress of the Sterling family—had no choice but to ask my husband for the $200,000 stipulated in our prenuptial agreement, less than a week after our wedding.

He transferred the money without a word.

But that night, the way he looked at me changed.

"So the Sterling family is drowning in fraud scandals. I guess greed really does run in the blood."

From that day on, Theodore never looked me in the eye again.

He started openly parading other women at social events, letting everyone mock me as a gold-digger who only married him for money.

Today is my birthday. I'm sitting in the emergency room with unbearable stomach pain.

Meanwhile, Theodore is throwing a party for his new girlfriend.

Clutching the $185 emergency room bill, I call him.

"Theodore, let's get a divorce."

"Here we go again. How much are you trying to extort from me this time?"

Clarissa Wang thought getting into her dream Ivy League university would be the best day of her life until she walked in on her boyfriend tangled in bed with another girl. Heartbroken and humiliated, she finds solace at her sister's appointment, only to find it already occupied by someone from her past, her enigmatic step-cousin, Damien.
Tall, brooding, and dangerously charming, Damien has just transferred from the U.S., carrying secrets and scars that run deep. The tension between them ignites instantly, fueled by forbidden memories and undeniable chemistry. But family ties and dark oaths make their attraction taboo.
As Clarissa tries to rebuild her life, she finds herself torn between the boy who betrayed her and the man she was never supposed to want. When a drugged drink, a bear assault, and a steamy night threaten to expose their secret, Clarissa's world spirals into chaos. And when Damien is framed for a murder he didn't commit, Clarissa must decide: walk away, or risk everything to prove his innocence.
Love, betrayal, and obsession collide in this steamy college romance where every kiss is a sin… and every secret could be deadly.
Forbidden never felt so right. But what happens when love becomes a crime

For five years of secret marriage to Sebastian Hawthorne—one of New York's most powerful attorneys—he still refused to let our son Quinn call him "Daddy" in public.
At the firm, I was his on-call senior associate, the invisible workhorse cleaning up his messes and handling his impossible cases. At home, I was the single mother who stopped waiting up for a husband who never came home for dinner.
Everyone knew the new intern, Delilah Vance, was his favorite—a federal judge's daughter, his hand-picked "rising star."
I used to believe that if I worked hard enough, if Quinn behaved perfectly, the heart beneath all that arrogance would eventually soften.
Until that rainy night when he threw his wife of five years and their son out of their own home to comfort Delilah over some fabricated stalker scare.
And while Quinn collapsed in my arms, gasping through a severe allergic reaction, Sebastian was raising champagne with that woman at an impossible-to-book French restaurant, celebrating her win in a pointless mock trial.
Watching my son's pale face and the hope slowly dying in his eyes, five years of one-sided devotion finally reached its verdict.
The case is closed, Sebastian. I'm done.

My best friend could charm any man alive. I just didn't know how — not until it was too late.
Every boyfriend I ever had, she'd get close, turn on that pull of hers, and wait. They always fell. Then she'd send me the proof with the same sweet line: "Babe, you should be thanking me. I just saved you from another cheater."
Five boyfriends. Five "loyalty tests." Five relationships she destroyed and called it a favor.
I ran. Started over in a new pack. Found my fated mate — Callum Drake, the Alpha of Silver Ridge. For the first time in years, I felt safe.
On our mating ceremony day, she walked into my dressing room wearing an attendant's uniform.
She drugged my wine. Put on my robes. Crawled into my mate's bed.
I caught her. Threw her out. Thought it was over.
Months later, I was bleeding out in labor — and my mate stood over me, refusing to save me, because he'd been in love with her the whole time.
I died on that table.
When I opened my eyes, I was back. Same day. Same ceremony. Same best friend, same smile.
This time, I didn't scream.

Forty-eight hours before my wedding, I was kidnapped and gang-raped, surviving by only a thread in the depths of despair.   When my mafia boss fiancé and my police detective best friend stood guard by my hospital bed with bloodshot eyes, I heard him suddenly switch to Navajo and ask her, "The death row inmates from the dark web—were they dealt with cleanly?"   My best friend chuckled, replying in the same language. "Don't worry. The guys who put their hands on Maya have been wiped out. Dead men tell no tales."   "Sacrificing Maya alone gave you the perfect excuse to wipe out the rival family and swallow the southern smuggling network, while earning me a high-level promotion. It was a damn good deal."   Amidst tearing, agonizing pain, it felt as if I had been plunged into an ice cliff.   They thought I could never understand this obscure tribal language, so they brazenly feasted on the spoils of victory built upon my very flesh and blood. But what they didn't know was that, to surprise my fiancé during our wedding vows... I had been secretly studying Navajo for an entire year.

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."

After being poisoned by her foster sister for years—fed weight-gain hormones disguised as vitamins—Chloe Harrison lost 90 pounds and clawed her way back from rock bottom.
Her cruel foster sister Mia even tricked her into a humiliating one-night stand with what she called "a fat, balding stranger." But that night was anything but shameful—it was unforgettable.
Now Mia has one final insult: marry the "pathetic cripple" Mia publicly rejected—a bankrupt, wheelchair-bound recluse named Julian Astor.
However, everything changes when Chloe walks into that conference room. Julian isn’t a broken old man—he’s six-foot-three of raw power in a Tom Ford suit, a devastatingly possessive billionaire CEO who makes her forget how to breathe.
All of a sudden, her contract marriage turns into something dangerously real. Julian doesn’t just want her on paper—he wants to worship every curve, trace every scar, and take her every single night.
Why does his touch feel so hauntingly familiar? And why does he look at her like he’s been searching for her since that rainy night?
A ruthless billionaire couldn’t possibly be obsessed with the woman he was never supposed to keep… could he?

Lydia's POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Footsteps echoed outside.

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

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

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

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

It was my fourth time putting on a wedding dress.

To protect myself against my own parents, I hired a ten-man security detail.

I specifically chose the most isolated chapel in the suburbs.

Because at my first three weddings, they acted like absolute maniacs—destroying my rings and making me a complete laughingstock in front of everyone.

I just couldn't understand what kind of parents would do such a thing.

This time, I actually thought I could finally marry Liam in peace.

Until the bridal suite door was kicked open.

And my dad, once again, snatched my diamond ring away.