142 Book(s) Related to millie bobby brown hottest

Sacha Rish is a young African American woman with a little sister to care and provide for. When their parents tragically passed away, Sacha is left all alone to care for Judy so that she doesn't end up in foster care, but Sacha's life is rough. After losing her job and her apartment, she's desperate more than ever to make ends meet and just when she was on the brink of 'rock bottom'... She meets multi millionaire Christian Alexander who gave her an offer she couldn't refuse. This offer came with activities Sacha had no experience in. And things became heated when she fell for Christian.

This story contains themes intended for mature audiences.
"Let's play truth and dare shall we?" She challenged.
Alan didn't need to ponder about it, since his life was going to end anyway.
It's not such a bad idea to play games with his neighbor enemy, a sexy b***h at that-
With a decisive gaze, he met her eyes.
"I take the dare." He uttered and Gia had a mischievous smirk as she rubbed her palms slowly.
Explore a realm of steamy, dripping hot one-night sex between next-door neighbors who deemed themselves as enemies.
On the sideline, they nurture the dirtiest, sexiest, and naughtiest fantasies about pleasuring their crushes.
The lustful tension becomes palpable as these hotties ogle at their next-door neighbors through the window until they surrender to their repressed, dark, unapologetic, and tempting desires.
Watch as the boundaries between sexual attraction and hate blur in exciting ways.

"It's not compensating. It's lagging," I said, my grease-stained hands resting on my hips as I corrected the most arrogant, untouchable F1 racer on my very first day.
Silence fell over the elite mechanical training facility. Every perfectly polished student turned to stare at me—the charity case from the slums. But Carlos Santiago didn't just stare. His sharp, assessing gaze landed on me like a physical weight. "And who are you to correct me?" he demanded, stepping closer until the scent of expensive cologne and burning rubber surrounded me.

I didn't back down. I knew engines better than I knew people. "I wasn't correcting you. I was fixing the problem," I shot back. He was perfect—ash brown hair, thick lashes, and a jawline that belonged on a billboard. But he was also completely wrong about the calibration. I reached past him, my knuckles brushing his pristine racing suit, and adjusted the valve. The engine instantly purred to life. Flawless.

His eyes darkened. He hated losing control. He stepped into my space, trapping me against the workstation. "You've got good instincts," he murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "But instincts don't win races." Before I could push him away, someone bumped into him from behind. He stumbled forward, and suddenly, his lips crashed hard against mine. My mind went completely blank. It was an accident. It had to be. But when he pulled back, his eyes weren't steady, and his breathing was ragged. "Stay out of my way," he warned.

But the way he looked at my lips? It didn't feel like a warning at all. It felt like a promise.

THIS BOOK IS A SEQUEL BUT CAN ALSO BE READ AS A STANDALONE. FOR MORE CONTEXT, READ “THE BILLIONAIRE'S CURE” FIRST

“I want nothing more than to fuck your brains till you remember who the fuck you belong to, Millie.” he breathed,

I leaned closer to him on instinct. I wanted to tell him to do that. To fuck me till my voice became hoarse from screaming his name. But I couldn't risk everything just for a moment with him anymore.

I pulled away, the words tasting bitter as they spilled out of my mouth, “I would never be yours again.”

The evil grin on his face was evidence that he knew how much of a liar I was.
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Years after Heather walked out of her old life, she had gotten almost everything she wanted. A perfect job and amazing friends who cared about her. The only problem was her new boss's cousin who was also her ex-boyfriend.

Heather tried everything to avoid Ethan and the questions he would ask: “Why did she leave him?”

But after she moved in to a new apartment and realized they were neighbors, she couldn't avoid him forever.

Dark secrets from the past uncovered and a mystery person from Heather's old life appeared, their presence threatening to destroy the new life she had built for herself. Or worse. The man she had once left everything for.

As the secrets revealed, Heather had to choose between preserving her multiple identities and keep lying to the people she loves, or come clean to them and risk them hating her forever.

She had to find a way to do both without losing anything. Will she succeed in her quest and get back the love of her life? Or would her worst fear come true when he realized he couldn't love all versions of her?

Alexander Fitzpatrick, furniture designer, company director, single, is not looking for a girlfriend, but for hostesses to keep all women off his back.

Emily Saron, accountant, trainer, single, is not looking for a partner, but is looking forward to her future position as chief accountant at Fitzpatrick Designs.

Alexander gets a hostess who is not a hostess.

Emily becomes exactly that hostess he never wanted.

The fact that Oliver, as the mediator, can't keep his hands off Emily and that Dominik, as the owner of the castle, also wants to get into the erotic game makes the whole story really spicy.

Ella's father was in a car accident and needed a large sum of money for surgery. David Anthony - a young billionaire helped her pay for surgery on the condition that she become his wife within three years.

It all started when Maria - David's childhood friend - returned from studying abroad. Her wish is to be David's wife. Hearing that David was married, she almost went crazy, trying to harm Ella. Besides, Raymond - who works in the same company as David - fell in love with Ella from the first meeting. Raymond openly pursues Ella even though she knows she is married. Raymond and Maria team up, separating David and Ella.

How will their troubled love story unfold? Will they be happy?

I am a sex slave, someone who is owned by someone else and forced to perform sexual acts for them.

To use a more precise term, “whore” probably best describes what I am. You see, in exchange for financial support, I have made myself completely available to a man. This includes, but is not limited to, complete devotion, confidentiality, and the satisfaction of his every physical desire in any way he sees fit.

The irony is that I didn’t have to live this way, but I did so voluntarily. Well, I didn’t really have a choice because a better chance hadn’t come up yet, but I still went with it.

I wasn't forced by anyone… No one seek me out. There was no abduction or brutal beating to force me into submission. I chose to go willingly.

And I did it all, fueled by the desperate need to safeguard a precious life.

My name is Lalaine Brown, and this is my story.

"For a million dollars, I became a billionaire's contract bride, but my only condition is: for this year, you can only belong to me."
For twelve years, Sophia Banner has worked tirelessly to keep her family's farm from foreclosure. Every payment is a small victory, until her sister, Daphne drains the money for a modeling opportunity that turns out to be a scam.
Daphne isn't sorry. The bank doesn't care. And Sophia is out of time. Her solution arrives in tailored suits and effortless charm.
Andrew Ashford—her witty, rich-as-hell employer, the man she delivers groceries to weekly. And… the man her sister, Daphne has been infatuated with for years. He's also the man whose eight-year-old nephew she tutors.
When a medical diagnosis rattles Andrew's carefully managed life and sets his volatile family on edge, he decides appearances need fixing.
What he needs is a fiancée. What he offers is one million dollars for one year. The money would save Sophia's farm outright. And the image of a diamond on her finger, of Daphne forced to watch—sharpens the temptation to a dangerous edge.
Sophia agrees. She steps into Andrew's world of obscene wealth, jealous socialites, and an overbearing chaotic family that treats appearances like currency. Fake kisses are expected. Convincing smiles are mandatory.
The problem is, Andrew plays his role too well—and the reasons behind this engagement begin to feel far from innocent. Because Andrew Ashford didn't choose Sophia at random. One year. One million dollars. And a lie that's starting to feel dangerously real.

My fiancée abandoned our wedding just because of one word from her childhood sweetheart.

What's even more interesting is that she actually had her sexy sister take her place at the wedding.

This is just wonderful - if you leave, then don't come back.

I already have a legal wife now.

I died once.

Spent seventy years as a housewife the first time around. Biggest regret? Never felt my heart race.

Met her in this life, and that's when I learned what being alive actually meant. In this world where assassins pay in gold coins and seek sanctuary at Continental hotels, we became a duo called "Swans," hunting down the man who destroyed her family. Every single day, dancing on a razor's edge.

Two years ago, the explosion killed Raven Hayes right in front of me.

To survive, I married a naive tech heir, slipped into silk dresses and started doing the charity gala circuit, tried to convince myself this was the peace I wanted.

Until that enemy became a High Table member and announced a hundred-million-dollar bounty on me to the world.

I used to be scared. Used to run. Used to ask why it had to be me.

But sitting at my vanity, staring at this stranger's face in the mirror, all done up like some socialite, I suddenly realized none of it mattered anymore.

I'm going to die eventually anyway. Might as well die looking like myself.

Olivia, who had been in a deep slumber for a thousand years, was awakened and embarked on a journey to uncover her true identity.
Skilled in witchcraft, array formation, and magic, she was a master of all.
The vampire ancestors were so frightened that they fled away, exclaiming, “This terrifying woman is still alive! We can’t provoke her!”
The monster hunters pleaded to Olivia, “Please take in this thousand-year-old monster!”
The priests also begged Olivia, “We are all your descendants. You must revive our career!”
Olivia gave a cold smile. But how did she become a vampire?

“One million dollars!”. A deep voice bid making everywhere to go silent.


Just a day after Ashley turned eighteen, her parents sold her off to a gangster in order to pay their debt. The gangster decided to resell her in an audition where she was brought for a million dollars.

Ashley was brought by Xander Cage the don of the biggest mafia organization in the state. Xander needed a wife in order to present himself as a responsible man to him big time client.

Ashely found herself thrown into the ruthless world of the mafia where love is impossible. Will she be able to fit into the world or will she run done the hills. Find out more as you read.

I pulled her closer and entered her again. Again and again, picking up the rhythm. The more intense my movements, the louder she screamed.

"Amelia?" I asked.

"Stop asking if I'm okay and take me, Leonardo!" she shouted. "Harder!"

My boss, proposes that we get married for six months to improve his bachelor image and save his company. I agree, thinking it's just a game. But from the first kiss in this fake marriage, I realize my innocence won’t last long.

Rule number one? Some boundaries are meant to be broken, no matter the consequences.

To save my family from ruin, I signed a contract to become the billionaire CEO's fake wife—but I never expected his possession to feel this real.
Maya Sullivan was trying to save her father. She never imagined he would repay her loyalty by signing her away.
Five hundred million dollars. That was the price of his debt. And Maya was the collateral. Silas Blackwood doesn't want a mistress. He wants an image.
With the public watching Blackwood Holdings and whispers circling his name, Silas needs a distraction—a loyal assistant at his side, a convincing girlfriend, a flawless future wife. And Maya will play every role he assigns.
"I don't marry for love," Silas tells her calmly. "I marry for advantage." Inside the Blackwood mansion, rules are strict, privacy is an illusion, and weakness is never tolerated.
By day, Maya stands beside him in tailored dresses and practiced smiles. By night, she lies awake in a house that never truly feels safe.
It's supposed to be an act. A carefully planned performance. But the longer she lives with Silas, the harder it becomes to tell what's real.
The resentment between them or the way his touch lingers a second too long. Because in the Blackwood world, everything has a price. And falling for Silas might cost Maya far more than her freedom.

Aston Whitmore thought I loved him. Truth is, his mother bought a year of my life for a million dollars.
He thought those 3 AM study sessions were about redemption and romance across class lines. He didn't know I was never watching his pretty face—I was watching the countdown to my mother's kidney transplant payment.
I froze this trust fund prince's credit cards, cut his internet, and nailed him to that desk until his eyes went bloodshot cramming calculus.
When he turned into a guard dog in front of the whole cafeteria, publicly staking his claim on me, all I was calculating was the date that final payment would clear.
Today, he burst through the mansion door clutching his Yale acceptance letter, ready to give me some grand confession.
I was already thirty thousand feet up on a flight to Zurich, staring at that million-dollar deposit notification, face blank as I pulled out the SIM card, snapped it in half, and tossed it in the trash.
No note. No goodbye.
Just one notarized Service Completion Certificate sitting on that empty desk. Terms fulfilled. Transaction closed.

Woke up with the power to command endless zombies. I guarded the fortress for my sister, only to find her tortured, drained of blood, and used as live bait. A fake hologram fooled me for two years. Now I unleash my million undead army to burn all traitors to ashes.

With only three days left until the apocalyptic fungal outbreak, my ordinarily strict father unexpectedly took out a million-dollar loan from a loan shark, transferred it to my account, and issued an absolute order: "Buy supplies, build a fortress, and even if you die, do not open that door!"

Staring at the seven-figure balance, I grabbed a liquor bottle, shattered the nose of the school bully who used to torment me, and instantly kicked off a frantic hoarding spree. I bought out a penthouse on the 50th floor, welded on a bank-vault-grade blast door, and stockpiled an endless supply of Tomahawk steaks and a massive arsenal of weapons.

When the disaster finally struck, the once-arrogant rich kids downstairs were reduced to bloody fodder for the monsters. The starving school bully knelt outside my door, tearing into his own companions just for a leftover bone. Meanwhile, separated by bulletproof glass, I sipped an ice-cold cola and coldly enjoyed the show.

Just as a massive horde of the infected surrounded the building, my parents unexpectedly arrived in a Unimog heavy armored vehicle armed to the teeth, crushing through the sea of corpses in a dominant rescue. With our family reunited and packing heavy firepower, we violently tore open our own path of rampage across this scorched wasteland!

Twenty-one-year-old Adrian Blood had nothing — no parents, no money, he was just a scholarship and a girlfriend he thought was worth saving for. Valentine's night stripped even that away. Teresa chose his bully. Ricardo's men put him in the garbage, literally.

Then a voice activated in his head.

The Chosen Heir System doesn't do sympathy — it does missions. Its first order: save the sister of the man who just destroyed him. Adrian ran through the rain, bleeding, and did it anyway.

One mission. One million dollars.

Ricardo Rodriguez has no idea what he just created. And the system is only getting started.

When a werewolf turns 18 years old, they are destined to find their true love, their one soulmate. Some are lucky enough to find them that very day, while others take years to find each other.

For Athena, she was one of the lucky few but this doesn't just mean finding her mate, it also means the beginning of her entire future; ruling over any and all supernatural beings.

Athena must over come her fear of losing her family to be with the one person she can't live without and ascend the throne she's destined to rule in.


Excerpt:

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” His soft voice reaches my ear, the sound causes my body to tingle and yearn for him.

“Obviously I didn’t hide well enough.” I slur.

My mate comes closer until he is standing next to the table. I move my head to the side and begin to study his features. His eyes are a bright, vibrant green with small brown flecks. His hair is dark and is styled into a messy kind of look. It definitely suits him.

“What do you want?” I slur as he continues to just watch me. The electricity that shocks us is evident, and gives me nothing but pleasure.

“You’re so beautiful.” His voice is low.

“You don’t get to say that right now.” My words may be slurred but I make sure I put in as much fire as I can.

When he looks back up at me, I can’t help but get lost in his eyes. The bright green orbs show nothing but affection, though they quickly change to something else.

Lust?

His hands reach out and pull me closer to him by my thighs. He wraps my legs around his waist before placing one hand on my lower back and the other at the back of my head. Our faces are so close together, our lips are almost touching. His breathing is heavy like mine.

“Are you going to stop me?” He whispered.


Just wanted to add, this is the first edit/draft so there are probably some dud chapters and things like that, so just bare with me. If anyone has any constructive criticism, i'd really appreciate it

I gave my best friend my kidney and he fell in love with someone else.
He is not my boyfriend.
Even though I've seen his lips on mine, even though he gets jealous, even though he acts like he owns my heart—he has never asked me out.
I've loved him for as long as I can remember.
I know everything about him. I take care of him. I never forget his birthday, his habits, or the way he smiles when he thinks no one is watching.
When he was sick and needed a donor, I didn't hesitate.
I couldn't watch my best friend die. So I gave him my kidney.
I thought that meant something.
But he loves someone else now—someone new, someone who doesn't even love him back.
I can't confess.
If I lose him as my best friend, I lose everything.
So I stay silent. I suffer alone.
And I keep asking myself the one question I'm too afraid to say out loud, What if he has always loved me too?

Condemned as the villainess, betrayed by her betrothed, and executed in disgrace—Lady Seraphina Valmoré thought her story had ended. But fate gives her a second chance. Reborn with the memories of her past life, she swears never to play the fool again. This time, she will not beg for love. This time, she will wield her mind like a weapon and her heart like a shield.
But the game of fate twists cruelly when her greatest enemy, the feared Prince Kael of Drakoria, takes an interest in her. Cold, ruthless, and untouchable—he should be the last man she trusts. Yet in his shadowed gaze, she finds the one thing she never expected: protection.
As Seraphina schemes to expose traitors, outwit her stepsister, and rewrite her destiny, she must walk a knife’s edge between vengeance and vulnerability. And when love blooms in forbidden soil, she must decide—will she rewrite the ending of her story, or embrace her role as the villainess the world has always feared?

"Kiera Scott is a 21 years old single lady, she Lives alone since she graduated from high school. Sometimes her friends come around to visit her. Luckily enough for her, she's the only daughter of her family and very pampered. She's pretty... The perfect definition of beauty can be told alone by looking at her. She's loved by everyone in her neighborhood, works in a very good company and paying one loved by her colleagues. But! The only problem is her Boss.

He's Tibby Wilf. He is a sex freak, crazy, mean, extra arrogant. He hates being corrected. But Kiera keeps crushing on him.

He was a sex addict. He'd always scold her when she's wrong and not...till she got used to it.

Now she accidentally found him in the shower.

"you!!" he called as she turned back shocked to see her boss half naked.

"argh!" she screamed and shut her eyes closed

"what you doing here?"" she asked

"I should ask you that!" he fired back as she opened her eyes

'gosh...so hot' she gasped in her thoughts

"I'm hiding... please" she whispered as she walked closer to him

"hey... stay back" he hurriedly said as she staggered back

"argh!" she screamed as he pushed her back but unfortunately... his towels fell off his waist."

Nora Vale inherits three million dollars and a ruined seaside motel from an aunt her family called impossible.

She tells no one. Not even Rowan, her exhausted mechanic husband, who has spent years letting his family drain him dry.

Instead, Nora tells one dangerous lie: her design studio has collapsed, and she has lost everything.

Rowan does not blame her. He does not leave. He takes her hand and says, "Then we rebuild. You and me."

But the inheritance is not just money. Harbor Mile Motel hides records of a predatory company buying coastal properties through debt, fear, and family pressure. Rowan's brother is involved. Nora's aunt may not have died as quietly as everyone believed.

Now Nora must learn that money can buy time, repairs, and lawyers, but it cannot buy trust. And Rowan must decide whether the woman who lied to test his love is still the woman he wants to build a future with.

Warning : Matured contents.

"Fuck ," Keir moaned as he placed his hand on her head motioning her to reduce her pace as she was at the edge of making him loose his mind but she didn't stop rather she continued gagging on his manhood swiftly and at interval she would meet his eyes with a smile on her face.

"Damn," Keir moaned again this time loudly as he released into her mouth, watching her take all of him as she swallowed. He didn't know how they had gotten here but he was pleased, his parents had organized a get together with all their shareholders and as usual Octavia had suggested they go have their own meeting in his office.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Octavia Cosmo and Keir Hydra are childhood friends, they come to a compromise after being in a series of unhealthy relationships with their past partners to be in a friend's with benefits situation to satisfy their sexual urge.

They keep at it for some while till Octavia realize she might be in love with Keir when he informs her he wants to call off their agreement off as he is now in love.

Will she let him go or do the untold to keep their agreement permanent?

Travis Savage and I were a notorious public pair, bound together by nothing but hatred.

In the glittering, indulgent world of Chicago, he was an untouchable mafia king who ruled with absolute power, making and breaking rules on a whim. And I? I was the wife he loathed above all others in his criminal empire.

It all started when my parents lost their lives saving him, gunned down by his rivals. After their deaths, he kept me close as I grew up, and eventually, our marriage became what everyone expected. For a long time, he was my only anchor in this lonely world.

Once, he’d knelt before me and sworn to protect me for the rest of my life.

Now, he hated me.

He hated that I refused to sign the divorce papers, that I stood in the way of him running off with Renee Sutton — the orphan girl he claimed to have rescued off the streets.

He let her walk all over me and flaunt herself openly in front of me. To get back at them, I leaked their sordid secrets overnight across all of Chicago: their flirty messages, their hotel stays. Word spread through both the criminal underworld and high society alike, leaving the pair mocked and shunned by everyone.

Our marriage had rotted away years ago, worn thin by endless mutual resentment. It was stagnant, foul, and long dead.

Until three days ago.

A string of ambushes left Travis a hunted man. While swerving to avoid an oncoming truck, he was involved in a devastating car crash.

He lay unconscious in the ICU for three full days. When he woke, he claimed he’d forgotten every ounce of the nine years of hatred between us. In his mind, he was still nineteen — the age when he loved me with everything he had.

He Thought I'd Wait Forever. I Wore White for Someone Else.

Nora canceled the wedding venue on a Tuesday. The deposit was nonrefundable. She let it go.
Eight years she'd held that stretch of coast — the cliff, the white tent, the January date they circled and let slide every spring. She slid the ring off at the kitchen counter and dropped it in the drawer with the dead batteries and old takeout menus. It didn't feel like heartbreak. It felt like setting down something she'd carried too long.
Adrian would find out. Not tonight. He still thought her silence was a thing to be coaxed out of. He still thought she'd always be there.
She'd already decided she wouldn't. By the time he understood, she'd be on that coast in a white dress — and the man beside her wouldn't be him.

The Alaskan winds cut across my face like knives, but only one thought consumed me—why hadn't Madison shown up to get me? In ten years, my sister had never failed to be there.

Until I walked in on my brother-in-law tangled up with some blonde bitch, and my world shattered. "Fallen through ice in a blizzard"? What a goddamn lie. They cut open her eight-month pregnant belly to steal her baby—while she was still conscious. They let her suffer for 47 excruciating minutes before she died.

I didn't break out of the psych ward to cry about it. I came back so these monsters can pay their blood debts in full. They think I was born wicked? Fine. Let me show them exactly how it feels to have your living body sliced open.

I suffered from a severe congenital heart defect.

And my mother, Jamie, had terminal bone cancer.

My family was not a happy one. It marked the third year since my father, Nelson, had openly and unapologetically betrayed their marriage.

That morning, my mother swallowed a handful of painkillers and forced herself to stand up from her wheelchair.

She asked her best friend, Zoey, who was also my attending physician, to forge a medical report.

Zoey trembled with anger, her tears dropping heavily onto the paper.

"Jamie, are you crazy? Your bones are being eaten away by cancer cells every single day. You're in so much pain you bang your head against the wall all night. Why would you fake a clean bill of health?"

"Do you think that bastard Nelson will change his mind and come back to you just because you pretend to be healthy?"

I thought I was the perfect wife and mother, until I heard my husband outside his office, laughing, calling me a "prison warden" and planning to use our daughter as cover while he ran off to Tuscany with his grad student.

Everything fell apart. Then my daughter, in front of everyone: "That's just our annoying nanny."

I tried to hold on to what was left of our family, but my daughter shoved me down the stairs. I lost the baby, and my husband just checked his watch while I bled out on the floor.

They locked me in and left for Italy.

Alone in the hospital, they told me I'd lost the baby and had "memory damage."

Now they're back, expecting the same obedient wife.

She's gone.

And I'm done loving them.

I used to be the nation's top lock-picking expert. I saved countless lives.

But I couldn't save my own daughter.

At the dock, two children were strapped to bombs.

The girl had less time—I should've saved her first.

But my husband Damien held a knife to his throat, forcing me to save the other one first.

His illegitimate son.

I compromised.

The moment I opened the lock, the kidnapper ripped off the girl's hood.

I never expected her to be Rosie.

My five-year-old daughter.

She looked at me.

Her lips moved, forming the word "Mommy."

Then the explosion tore through everything...

I thought that after twenty years with the Sterlings—even as an adopted child—I'd at least count as family. But the day they found their biological daughter Victoria, they announced they were throwing me out and planned to humiliate me at the family gathering. Based on what right?

Even more disgusting was how my almost-fiancé Blake immediately started fooling around with Victoria, eager to watch me get kicked to the curb!

When everyone was lining up to step on me, it was Alexander—the one I'm supposed to call "stepbrother"—who protected me. In his apartment, when he stood behind me gripping my hand as I chopped vegetables, his breath grazing my ear before he finally bent down to kiss me... my heartbeat went completely erratic.

My biggest regret? Trusting my husband with my mother's life.

The day the mudslide hit, I was on my knees. Begging him to send a helicopter.

He told me to wait. Twenty minutes. But when the helicopter came, it went for his adoptive sister Vivian instead.

I held my mother in the ruins. Her body was shutting down. I waited. Waited until she went cold in my arms.

When he finally showed up at the hospital, the first thing he said? Accused me of faking it. Said I just wanted attention.

In that moment, my heart died too.

Later, I found out Vivian wasn't even sick.

She said "I don't feel well"—that's all it took. And he left my mother and me to die.

Called me a lunatic. In front of everyone. All for her.

I was ready to leave. For good. Then someone shattered my mother's ashes.

On the day I got engaged to the heir of an elite old-money family, my own birth mother spread vicious lies about me in front of the entire crowd. She claimed I’d lived a wildly promiscuous life while studying abroad, and had even secretly given birth to a stillborn child with no known father.
Afterwards, she took my hand and sobbed out an apology, saying she’d only wanted to test whether my fiancé truly loved me enough to stand by me. I was foolish enough to believe her, and drank the calming tea she’d personally handed me.
When I opened my eyes the next morning, everything was destroyed. I lay in my bedroom, disheveled and half-dressed, and the man beside me was none other than my younger sister’s boyfriend.
In the end, my fiancé married my sister. And I was mercilessly disowned and cast out by my own family.
But twenty years later, every single one of them would come to regret what they’d done.

I remember that frost-covered train door like it was the last thing I ever saw. Because it was.
The escape spot I’d spent three years scraping together? My fiancée was sitting in it, wearing my parka. Her brother had my hiking boots on his feet. Her mother clutched the medical kit I’d carried six miles through ash-covered roads. And Caleb Frost—the ex she’d sworn was just “someone from the past”—stood in the seat that should have been mine, lifting my silver emergency flask in a toast.
While I froze out in the subzero ash storm, my lungs burning like they were filled with shards of broken glass, they turned their backs to me under the warm yellow light inside.
Then I woke up.
The calendar read May 3, 2041. Exactly one year before the Yellowstone chain eruption would turn the northern hemisphere into a frozen grave.
On the TV, experts were still downplaying the volcanic tremors, insisting there was no immediate risk to the public. My fiancée walked into the bedroom wearing one of my white shirts, carrying coffee in the blue mug she’d bought with my card. She reached for my forehead, asking if I’d had a bad dream.
None of them know I’ve already died once.
They’re still plotting how to make me pay for her brother’s failed investments, how to sneak texts to her old boyfriend, how to use me as their most obedient, most useful doormat until the world ends. I’ve sold the downtown office towers, mortgaged the lakefront house, bought the abandoned geothermal station no one wanted in the dead mountains, and signed a stack of engineering contracts they’ll never bother to read.
They still smile and thank me, tell me I’m the best fiancé in the world.
They have no idea who will be holding the key to the door, when the sky goes dark forever and the snow never stops falling.

“Smile, Natalie,” Callum whispered before he walked onstage.

So I smiled while he thanked another woman for the crisis plan I had written. I smiled when he pinned my grandmother’s sapphire brooch to her dress. I even smiled when his message came in, canceling our nineteenth appointment at the county clerk’s office.

Then I walked out with our unsigned marriage license papers in my purse and called the one CEO he hated most.

By the time Callum realized I wasn’t waiting anymore, I had already taken my name, my work, and my future back.

It had only been seventeen minutes since my wife passed away. My daughter was sobbing on the phone.

"Dad, they're trying to drive me out."

I stared at the medical report in the doctor's hand.

The first natural antibody carrier.Toxin levels in the blood: zero.

The same poison that killed my wife, that killed my six-year-old son…had left me completely unharmed.

The doctor lowered his voice."Mr. Miller, you have to stay. They're sending people to pick you up."

I let out a cold laugh.

"My daughter is trapped in the basement storage room right now. Is anyone here going to help her?"

Silence fell over everyone.

I grabbed the glass water cup from the bedside table.

"Five years ago, they handed me a disciplinary penalty and fired me from the rescue team. Everyone said I was good for nothing."

The cup smashed against the floor.

I picked up the longest shard of broken glass.

"Today, I'll show you all how a useless man saves lives."

My family's company went bankrupt, and my father was critically ill.

I dropped out of school and worked multiple jobs every day.

Debt collectors beat me and broke my ribs, but I couldn't afford painkillers.

Every penny I earned went to expensive medicine, all to save my father.

Until I saw my father, who should have been bedridden on oxygen, holding a champagne glass at a hotel banquet hall.

His words pierced through, "Five years, the punishment she earned."

The bankruptcy was fiction. The illness, theater.

All orchestrated because his stepdaughter suffered from depression, and I was her entertainment.

When the doctor finally spoke to me, "Days. You have only days."

I laughed.

The dying one had never been my father.

It had always been me.

I once believed that love could transcend life and death.

Until the terminal stage of Moon Eclipse Disease, when my husband personally gave the life-saving opportunity to my younger sister—that orphan girl I had rescued.

He said the pack needed a gentle Luna like her.

My son clung to her, calling her 'Mom.' My parents crowned her with what should have been mine.

Fine, so you all want me dead?

Then I'll stake everything on one final gamble.

After I die, I want every single one of you to be tortured by the truth.

Four years ago, I left my boyfriend when he had nothing.

Now, he's a billionaire. And he's forcing me to marry him—just for revenge.

Every day it's a different girl. Now there's a pregnant influencer he flaunts in my face, destroying what's left of my dignity.

"Kneel and beg her, and I'll give you money." He holds another woman and smirks at me.

I don't cry. I don't scream. I just swallow the blood rising in my throat.

He doesn't know my brain tumor is terminal. I have thirty days left.

I've already signed the organ donation papers. I just want to die in peace.

I stopped loving him a long time ago.

Three years ago, on their way to attend my graduation art exhibition, the cruise ship carrying my fiancé and my family caught fire.

Over the past three years, I downed sleeping pills countless times, desperately wanting to follow them into the afterlife. Every single time, my adopted sister, Serena, saved me, crying hysterically as she shoved her fingers down my throat to make me throw up.

"They are already gone! Harper, you can't keep living in the past. You have to live on for their sake!"

After fainting from yet another high fever and being rushed to the hospital, I was diagnosed with terminal leukemia.

The doctor said I had a month left, at most.

I refused their advice to find a bone marrow match. Clutching my family's belongings, I decided to go back to our old estate in the suburbs for one last look.

While I was walking in a daze, a little boy running wildly crashed hard into my legs.

A male voice that had haunted my dreams for years rang out from behind me. "Alistair, if you keep running off, what will you do if Mommy and Daddy don't want you anymore?"

In an instant, it felt like I had been plunged into freezing water. I froze in place.

A witch prophesied at my birth—I carried special blood, I could bear the strongest children.

Two Alphas I'd loved for ten years—the Wolf King's sons—swore they'd protect me forever.

Then she showed up. Maggie. My cousin. All wide-eyed innocence, claiming she had the same gift.

Suddenly, I was the jealous one. Every trap was mine, meant to hurt her. Every wound on me was fake. She cradled the silver fox I'd killed, tears falling right on cue.

They handed me the moonflower wine. Bryan said, "Don't ruin the mood."

When they accused me of treason, Ronald said, "Exile."

They dragged me past the borders themselves. Poison fire in my veins, bones breaking under moonlight.

I hit the ground. The last thing I saw was Maggie's smirk...

I'm the rightful fucking heir to the Sterling family fortune. My old man made me lay low, keep my head down, live like some regular broke college kid.
But there's this cunt in my dance crew. Walking around flashing her fake designer shit like she's hot shit, acting like she owns the fucking place.
And now she's got her eyes on my boyfriend.
To get close to him? She's telling everyone she's the Sterling family heiress.
Oh really? You're the Sterling heir?
Then who the fuck am I?

Everyone said I was just a shadow of Ethan, that I was nothing without him.
So during the tryouts, to comfort his "scared" sweetheart, he let go mid-jump, almost costing me my life.
He was betting I couldn't leave him, that I'd forgive him like I did the last eighteen times.
But he lost.
This time, I didn't cry or throw a fit.
I simply tossed the apartment key that symbolized our seven years together into the trash, then turned and walked toward my own world championship.

My husband's first love was in trouble.
When the news came, I was lying on the operating table.
Dr. Miller put down his scalpel and said to Dr. Johnson, "I'll leave my wife's surgery to you."

"If I don’t go now, I might regret it for the rest of my life."

With that, he turned and walked away.
Watching my husband's retreating figure, I couldn't hold back—tears fell.
The next second, the cold blade of a scalpel touched my skin.

Dr. Johnson spoke calmly, "Why the tears? With me here, you'll be fine."

My sister walked onstage wearing the medal for my stolen research.
Ethan stood beside her and mouthed, Don’t ruin this.
Last time, I listened. I lost my scholarship, my housing, my lab, and the only archive my mother left behind.

This time, I held up the U drive with the original files.
“If Sophie built it,” I said, “let her run the raw data.”

My Sister Wore My Medal

I saw a post on Reddit, "Urgent! How do I convince my wife to donate bone marrow to my mistress?"

I scoffed and typed back, "What a piece of shit."

Right after I hit send, my husband came home. He grasped my hand, his voice shaky: "You have leukemia... but it's okay, we found a donor."

His right eye twitched—he always did that when he lied.

Then I remembered the worst comment on that post, "Trick your wife into thinking she's the patient."

Life imitating the internet, apparently.

He wanted to harvest my bone marrow for someone else.

When I finally saw his mistress's face, my world fell apart.

I never thought his mistress would be her......

“End the ceremony,” Prince Kael ordered, his cloak wrapped around another woman’s shoulders.

Our six-year-old son stood beneath the moon glass, wings trembling, the royal binding already burning under his skin. If the ritual stopped now, Rowan could be scarred for life.

Kael did not even look at him.

So I picked up the sacred blade and pressed it to the bond mark in my palm.

“You wanted freedom,” I said. “Take it.”

"Miss Smith, I think I can smell your scent... it's so womanly..."

I looked down at the boy hiding under the lectern, watching helplessly as he had his way with me right there in the classroom, while I had to pretend everything was normal...

My name is Catherine, the university math teacher. With my husband always away on business trips, at thirty years old, I was like a nun guarding that double bed, never satisfied. Slowly, I developed some strange habits... and became bolder...

The bell for the end of class had just rung, and teachers and students were flocking to the bathrooms in groups, chattering noisily outside.

In one of the bathroom stalls, I was panting, squatting... my black lace panties down around my ankles, my face flushed with ecstasy as I indulged...

“Mr. Hale, step away from the chest.”

The officer’s hand stayed on the latch beneath my brother’s portrait.

My mother clutched the donation envelopes to her chest. “Lena is doing this for attention.”

Dad gave the room his lawyer smile. “My daughter hides when she wants sympathy.”

The volunteer pointed at the broken white ribbon. “Then why is there blood on it?”

The room went quiet.

I stood beside them, dead and barefoot, watching Dad’s face change.

Because for once, someone was about to open the place where they had left me.