14 Book(s) Related to zayns parents

Ophelia Rodrigo, the only daughter of the city’s most successful business tycoons, was only sixteen years old when everything she loved was torn away from her in a single night. Ruthless thieves invaded the Rodrigo mansion, leaving behind blood, broken glass, and the haunting memory of her parents’ merciless deaths. Hidden in terror, Ophelia watched helplessly as the empire her family spent decades building collapsed within hours, and for the first time in her sheltered life, she understood what it meant to become utterly alone. She believed that night would also claim her life, that the Rodrigo name would vanish together with her.

Instead, she was saved by the last man she ever expected.

Dimitri Cox, the city’s youngest billionaire and her father’s most dangerous business rival, became the one person who made sure the final surviving Rodrigo did not disappear with the ashes of her family. He was the very man her parents had spent years trying to defeat, the name spoken with resentment inside their household, yet when everyone else was gone, it was Dimitri who took responsibility for the broken girl left behind by tragedy.

As the years pass, Ophelia grows into a woman burdened by grief, unanswered questions, and a hatred she no longer fully understands. She soon discovers that the massacre that destroyed her family was never an ordinary robbery, and every truth she uncovers leads to a conspiracy darker than she imagined. Forced to rely on Dimitri Cox, the cold and untouchable enemy who became her reluctant protector, Ophelia is pulled into a dangerous world of revenge, betrayal, and buried secrets, where the man she was raised to despise may be the only one willing to risk everything to keep her alive.

"You sure dispatch called this... natural causes?" I gripped the steering wheel, staring at the perfect suburban house.
"That's what they said," Gates muttered. The victim's father, Arthur, stood at the door in pressed khakis, weeping.
He swore his daughter, Grace, died in her sleep last night after eating vanilla pudding.
But the moment we stepped inside, a suffocating cocktail of cheap lavender spray and rotting meat punched me in the sinuses.
In the living room, SpongeBob SquarePants was blasting at maximum volume. Grace was slumped in a recliner. When Gates gently pinched her wrist to lift her arm, a sickeningly soft, tearing rip echoed in the room.
Her grayish skin completely degloved, fused to the leather armrest. Beneath the liquefied muscle tissue, frantic rows of tiny white maggots wriggled into the exposed bone.
A body that died "last night" doesn't breed maggots.

The fake heiress and I died twice fighting over the same thing—which of us would get adopted by that wealthy couple.

The first time, I got the necklace. I became their daughter. I thought I'd finally have everything I'd ever wanted. Three months later, they drowned me in the bathtub.

William's voice still echoes in my head. "This is your fault! If we'd taken Chloe instead, she'd still be alive!"

The second time, I gave Chloe the necklace. Let her have the good life. I thought that would keep me safe.

Five years later, Chloe turned up dead in their mansion. The Harringtons called the cops on me. They said I broke in and killed her out of jealousy. I died in prison, broken and tortured. The last thing I heard was Catherine's voice through the visiting room glass, cold as ice. "You belong in the gutter."

The third time, I open my eyes again.

I watch the couple smile at us, all warmth and kindness, and one question burns in my mind. Which daughter do they actually want?

"911, what's your emergency?"
What came through wasn't words—it was raw, desperate sobbing.
In Oak Creek, a well-respected couple called to report their daughter had died. But when officers stepped through the door, what they found made a veteran sheriff drop to his knees and retch—
Their 36-year-old daughter had become part of the couch.
Her body had fused with decomposing foam, waste, and writhing maggots. Skin adhered to cracked leather. Her stomach contained couch padding and her own feces. She weighed 65 pounds.
Through tears, her parents explained: "She had severe autism... wouldn't let anyone touch her..."
But neighbors told a different story: Nobody had laid eyes on this girl in twelve years.
Then investigators found something beneath the couch—freshly used cleaning wipes.
Someone had crouched beside her decomposing body and methodically cleaned her. For days.
Then who stays that composed in hell?
Grief—or guilt?

The man I loved and the family I trusted became my worst nightmares. They destroyed my child and tortured me to death over a blood curse. Reborn once more, I hold all the painful memories. I will tear off their masks of kindness, seek justice, and flee far away to start a brand new life, free from all suffering and betrayal.

In the apocalyptic freeze, temperatures plummeted to seventy below zero. The earth was encased in ice, and ice beasts roamed everywhere.

I risked my life to scavenge for food, covered in wounds, enduring cold and hunger, leaving all our meager supplies for my parents and brother.

I thought blood was thicker than water, that all the suffering and hardship was worth it.

But I never imagined that when our resources ran out, the family I'd protected with my life would reveal their true beastly nature. They ambushed and knocked me unconscious, tied me to an ice pillar, planning to use me as food rations—to eat me alive.

At the moment of near death, the ice jade my grandfather left me suddenly shattered. I awakened top-tier ice abilities, commanding frost and snow, controlling the extreme cold.

My kindness had been frozen to death by the bitter cold. Family meant nothing.

Those who betrayed me, deceived me, and tried to eat me—I wouldn't spare a single one.

I was kidnapped at five. Found at sixteen. Dead at nineteen.
My parents are top transplant surgeons. The night I was murdered, they were saving my sister's life with a "legally sourced" donor heart. They signed the paperwork themselves.
That heart was mine. Cut from my chest while I was still breathing.
The sister they saved? She's the one who handed me to the killer.
For three years I lived under their roof. They slapped me for things she did. They called me ungrateful when I couldn't donate a kidney I'd already lost. They forgot my birthday to throw her a party.
And when I went missing, they didn't look for me. Dad said, "Even if she dies out there, she has no one to blame but herself."
He was right. I did die out there. And he's the one who signed off on what happened next.

After being lost for ten years, I was finally brought home by my biological parents.
They stood in the cramped basement and asked me, "The family went bankrupt a month ago. You won't hold it against us for being poor, will you?"
Overcome with emotion, I hugged them tightly and shook my head fervently.
Later, my father was diagnosed with uremia and needed a large sum of money for surgery. To earn money, I worked three jobs a day, eventually collapsing from exhaustion and being diagnosed with a brain tumor. With no time for treatment, I rushed to deliver food orders.
Unexpectedly, I ran into my father—who should have been in the hospital undergoing dialysis—having booked an entire shopping mall to celebrate the adopted daughter's birthday. My mother, wearing an gorgeous gown I'd never seen before, smiled as she embraced the girl.
"Lily, our precious, Mommy and Daddy will give you everything you want."
My brother, who they said had died in an accident while searching for me, was dotingly putting a diamond necklace on the girl.
It turned out the family hadn't gone bankrupt at all—I just wasn't worthy.

I have been tormented by a strange illness for ten years, with blood draws and surgeries being commonplace.
My mother always encouraged me, saying, "Nian Nian, bear with it a little longer. The pain will be over soon. Mom and Dad are doing this to save your life."
Hoping to be cured as soon as possible, I gritted my teeth and endured ten years of painful treatments, even if it meant living like a lab subject.
That was until I accidentally overheard my parents’ cruel conversation:
“Increase the blood draw even more. It doesn’t matter if she dies—she was only picked up to save Ying Ying. As long as she has a breath left, she owes it to us.”
At that moment, I finally understood: I was never sick at all.
The decade of daily treatments were nothing but a way to use me to extend the life of their biological daughter.

First book of a two part series

Aaron was a sociopath. He was manipulative. He played me and I danced to his tune. I fell in love with him, I fell deep into the ploy of his plan. Furious tears ran down my cheeks as I felt my blood boil. I remained calm, I couldn't betray the rage I felt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In the neon shadows of Veylar City, power is currency and the Black Sun holds it all.

Kaelen Vale was the last heir of an ancient martial clan… until the Black Sun slaughtered them and shattered their greatest weapon into seventeen shards. Now, each shard is a prize in the city’s deadliest underground war capable of granting impossible power, at the cost of your humanity.

Back from exile, Kaelen swears to reclaim every piece. But the deeper he hunts, the more the shards change him strengthening his body, sharpening his reflexes… and feeding a darkness he can’t control.

Allies become enemies. Betrayal hides behind the brightest smiles. And in a city where skyscrapers pierce the clouds and gangs prowl the alleys, the deadliest threat may not be the Black Sun itself… but what Kaelen is willing to become to destroy it.

“What if your instincts could evolve into unstoppable power and the system that guides you…had a mind of its own?”

Veynar Solis starts at Rank Zero, a nobody scraping by in the streets of Veyra City. One life-or-death encounter awakens his Zero Instinct, and with it, a world of superpowers, underground battles, and enemies who will stop at nothing.

With a sassy, sarcastic system at his side and a street-smart ally, Lyra, Veynar must fight, evolve, and outsmart every rival from cunning underground bosses to lethal foils while uncovering the dark secrets of the system itself.

Survival isn’t enough. Power, strategy, and instinct will decide who dominates and who dies.