105 Book(s) Related to ruby slippers strain review

After losing her family in a devastating fire that destroyed their home, leaving only her and her scarred, bedridden sister as survivors, Camellia swore to seek justice and avenge their deaths. The culprits? Not just ordinary criminals, but the most powerful and untouchable elites in the country.
Struggling to make ends meet while caring for her sister, Camellia takes a job as a stripper in a high-end nightclub. There, she crosses paths with the first son of the influential family responsible for her tragedy. Determined to use him as a pawn in her quest for revenge, she seduces him, drawing him closer into her web.
But as their connection deepens, Camellia finds herself torn. What started as a calculated plan to destroy him becomes complicated by emotions she never expected. Against her better judgment, she begins to fall for the very man tied to her family's destruction.
Now, Camellia faces an impossible choice: should she pursue the vengeance that has consumed her for years, or risk everything for the love she never thought she'd find? Can she outmaneuver the powerful forces arrayed against her—the politicians, the police, even the chief judge—or will she be crushed under the weight of their influence?
Dive into this gripping tale of crime, passion, betrayal, and redemption, where every choice comes with a cost, and nothing is as it seems. Will Camellia achieve justice, find love, or lose everything in the process?
Disclaimer: This is a book filled with so much anger, hatred, revenge, lust, desire and so much more. It contains explicit language and very matured scenes. If you're reading this, you're doing so solely at your own risk.

I just bought my daughter a ruby choker. But the moment I fastened it around her neck, my world came crashing down.
The shopkeeper called me a sick freak. My loving husband demanded an instant divorce. My best friend called me a monster.
Why? It’s just a piece of jewelry... right?

I was on the streets, until I wasn't. They took me, fed me, clothed me. For a time I was happy, until he came back. I had five years to accept his chains, my monster. He owned me, until I met the Enforcer of The Satan Snipers.

His name was Zero.

He wasn't just an enforcer. He was a stone blooded killer.

Meet the girl-

Beggar:-

I've never known a day of being normal or having a hot plate of food to eat. I don’t even know what it feels like to have a bath. The streets of Washington has been my home since the day I was born. As the years went on by, I learnt to survive on these streets, I even learnt to smile.

Now meet

Zero:-

I know I should let it rest, but I can't drop it. I need to know her name. My gut is riding me hard. My instincts are telling me it's important.

I'm the enforcer. If there's even a thread that she's a danger to my club I need to know.

When Beggar saves Falon, she passes the biggest test of a Satan Sniper. Taken as a prospect, Beggar can finally get the life she wanted.

She gets more than she ever hoped to. A mans heart. But with secrets from her past and the man in question set of uncovering the dark that's plagued her. Will she learn that the enforcer of the Satan Snipers is more than able to handle anything. Even the reason she calls herself Beggar.

Ruby Steele, 30, beautiful, fit, seems just like any other ex-pat hiding out in the Bahamas and playing local bartender. But unruly patrons find out the hard way: Ruby is a mixed-martial-arts pro, and not one you’d want to cross.In fact, Ruby would be a champion if she hadn’t been forced to walk away and hide out in the Bahamas.Because Ruby knows too much. She knows where the bodies are buried. And she knows when it’s time to get out of town.But what Ruby doesn’t know is why there is a dead tourist in the dumpster behind her seedy bar.Or why, she, of all people, had to find it.Or why this guy was out at 3am when he had a pretty fiancé waiting in a hotel room a mile away.Or why the local cops are pinning her.Or why she’s gonna be forced into a choice: find the killer, or do hard time herself.For Ruby, good choices have never been her strong point.And this one’s definitely not going to be good…Welcome to the Bahamian world of Ruby Steele, replete with her local dive bar, her wily pet monkey, her major drinking problem, her (way) too many fights, her inability to get herself out of trouble, and her fists made of stone. Ruby’s life is a complete wreck. But there’s one thing she’s good at: capturing your heart.ON THE ROCKS (A RUBY STEELE COZY MYSTERY) is the debut novel in a page-turning cozy mystery/thriller series, one that will linger with you long after the last page is read. Books #2 (EXTRA DIRTY) and #3 (FULL-BODIED) in the series are also available.

“You're not doing this on my birthday, are you?” I asked Ethan, my eyes covered in tears as I watched him glare at me with disdain. “You aren't leaving me dejected after sacrificing three whole years of my life with you!”

“And I'm giving you a life to be free, isn't that way better?” he asked in return, stretching the dreadful file towards me. “Consider this a birthday gift and leave. I'm going to specifically make sure you get all the benefits associated with the divorce.”

“You’re...”

“Leave Marinette,” he interrupted mildly. “Leave now and say nothing else. You can have the Ferrari or any of the estates in Paris as part of the compensation. Just go.”


**

Marinette Monroe thought she had found her happily ever after when she married the successful and charismatic Ethan. But five years later, her dream life is unravelling. Her husband’s attention is elsewhere, and his heart seems lost to a ghost from the past—his first love, Veronica Rodriguez.

On what should have been a day of celebration, Marinette’s birthday becomes a nightmare as Ethan comes home late, drunk, and distant. When he hands her divorce papers, her world shatters. Left with no choice but to pick up the pieces, Marinette discovers a strength she never knew she had. As she rebuilds her life and carves out her own success, she becomes someone that even Ethan can't ignore.

But just as Marinette rises to prominence, Ethan realises too late what he has lost. Now, he is desperate to win back the woman he once took for granted. But can he rekindle a flame that he extinguished, or is he too late to mend the heart he broke?

On the eve of her eighteenth birthday, Bella decides to run away from the overprotective life that her pack has forced her to live. She gets thrown into a world that is much bigger than her when she is captured by hunters who use to weaponize her hybrid abilities.

She manages to escape only to fall into the territory of a brooding 1000-year-old exiled alpha who just happens to be her mate. He holds the key to unlocking her hybrid abilities but is reluctant to help her bring an end to the hunters. Despite their connection she decides to return to her pack. But a bond forged by the moon goddess herself can’t be broken so easily.

When war looms around the corner and Bella’s powers begin to consume her, she must turn to her mate who seems to be the only one who can heal her. Will they be able to bring an end to the hunters and maintain the balance or will it be too late?

After all history does have a funny way of repeating itself.

I sold my soul for survival.
One year to belong to the Devil himself — Andrea Luigi. The man who owned the underworld.

He said he wanted a wife for a year.
He didn’t say I’d become his obsession.

But when his brother Marco — the man who once saved me, the man I thought I loved returns, I realize I’m not caught between good and evil.

I’m trapped between two devils…
And one deadly secret that could destroy them all.

Because the night my father died, someone else pulled the trigger — and both brothers are hiding the truth.

I was dropped at the gates like trash. Broken. Powerless. Alone.

Bloodrose Academy is not a school—it’s a death sentence for the weak. A place ruled by predators in uniforms, where cruelty is currency and alphas reign without mercy.

And I just caught the attention of the worst of them.

The Blackthorn brothers.

Zayne. Rylan. Cassian. Killian.

Four powerful alphas born of blood, brutality, and secrets. They hate me. Mock me. Hurt me. And yet… they can’t stay away.

To them, I’m nothing but the cursed stray. The girl who shouldn’t have survived. The outsider who doesn’t belong in their vicious world.

But fate has a cruel sense of humor.

Because I’m their mate.

And the moment they find out, everything will burn.

Enemies. Fated bonds. Bullying. Lust. Power games.
In Bloodrose, survival isn’t enough.

I’ll either become their obsession…
Or their destruction.

Set in a high-stakes corporate world, the story follows Mira Chen, a brilliant but financially burdened young woman who becomes entangled with two powerful brothers—Marcus and Daniel Reeves—after accepting a job at their consulting firm. What begins as a professional opportunity quickly spirals into a web of secrets, betrayal, and forbidden desire. As both Reeves brothers fall for Mira, they encounter numerous obstacles that lead to catastrophic issues with a AI protect gone completely wrong. Throughout every issue they come together as a family united to solve it.

This book has been rewritten and is dedicated to my Grandmother, Marie Valerie Perrett. Her flesh and bones now lay as ash, while her spirit glows within the ones fortunate to have breathed her air, as memories, and moments from the past become those that define our future. In my life some of those are memories and lessons that she has taught me, not just by words, but by actions.

She gave me the tools to be a strong woman, and at times I admit I struggled to stand, but my grandmother held me by both hands at those times and lifted me up. Then she let me go, because she knew, she knew all along that one day I would need the strength to stand on my own. To lift my own daughter by her hands and learn to let her grow so she can become stronger.

Who you were or the way you felt, my Grandmother loved without judgement.

When she looked at me, spoke to me I never doubted her love, it was always an invisible beam between us. When I was younger we used to lay on her bed and she used to read to me stories from the bible while I used her arm as a pillow. I remember when I got a bit older and she read to me then I asked her, "Gran why does a story always start with Once Upon A Time?" She said because now it is a fairytale but once upon a time it was true. It was then I imagined life, I convinced myself that aliens were real. That I could be anything I want.

There is never a moment that is perfect to let the one you love go and she was one of the very few who I have loved and still do. I took my books off the pre-order today and I am glad I did. Because I get to share her memory with you guys. And dedicate this book that she waited so long to read but barely started. On Tuesday, December 4th 2018, I read the first chapter to her.

I wish I knew that it was the last day, but we never really know when death comes naturally, do we.

Ten years ago, Elizabeth Kaiser was abandoned by her biological father, cast out of her home like a stray dog. A decade later, she returned as a decorated general of Nation A, wielding immense power and wealth beyond measure.

The onlookers waited eagerly for her downfall, only to watch in shock as the elite families of Capitol City bowed before her in reverence.

Elizabeth smirked coldly. "Want to chase me? Better ask my fists for permission first!"

All because I was unaware that Sophia had followed me on the mission, leaving her stranded in the chaotic dockyard.
My husband, Dante, was furious. He ordered his bodyguards to throw me into a seafood transfer warehouse.
“Cool off in the cold storage. Maybe then you’ll understand how helpless Sophia felt trapped in that container.”
It was a refrigeration unit for seafood, kept at a constant zero degrees, the air thick with the smell of fish.
I pounded on the door, pleading for help, but only Dante’s icy voice came through the intercom:
“Stop the act. The temperature in there won’t kill you. Stay inside and reflect until you learn your lesson.”
He cut the internal communication.
The temperature in the cold room kept dropping—someone had switched on the deep-freeze mode!
Shivering uncontrollably, I beat against the door until my nails left bloody scratches on the wall.
In agony, I curled into a ball. My consciousness faded, and my body grew stiff.
On the third day, Dante finally remembered me while celebrating the takeover of new territory.
In a rare show of mercy, he decided to have someone let me out.
But what he didn’t know was that my heart had already stopped beating from hypothermia long before.

I was in the middle of an affair in the master bedroom when Gu Jingran and his secretary burst in and caught me red-handed.
A thunderous roar ripped through the room.
"Ruan Qinghe!"
I shoved the trembling young man off my body, lowered my eyes, and let out a low, mocking laugh.
"Well, well. My husband rolls up with his side piece to catch his lawfully wedded wife cheating? This has got to be the most unhinged thing I've ever seen in my life."
The secretary, Bai Weiwei, paled instantly, scrambling to defend herself. "Sister Qinghe, you've got this all wrong! Today is your seventh wedding anniversary with Mr. Gu, he only asked me to come help!"
"Whatever was between us ended ages ago! We're just friends now! Don't you dare project your own filthy behavior onto everyone else just because you're acting out!"
I gave her a cool, cursory glance, smiled and said nothing, before finally fixing my gaze on Gu Jingran.
He snapped like a rabid wild beast, slamming and smashing every last thing he'd painstakingly prepared to pieces.
"You did this on purpose, didn't you?" His voice was raw and hoarse, trembling with rage. "You're trying to get back at me?"
"I was just curious."
I lifted an eyebrow slightly.
"Curious about what cheating feels like. What kind of thrill, what kind of rush, could make you addicted to it over and over again."

Trigger Warning: abuse, violence, torture, sexual violence.
Echo has known only pain for the last ten years. Being treated as a pack slave, she has cooked, cleaned, and worked harder than anyone she knows. Her reward for her efforts? Days without food and non-stop abuse from everyone in the pack. To make matters worse, one of her biggest tormentors is also completely obsessed with her. She has never known anyone in the pack to show her an ounce of kindness. When a visiting alpha from a neighboring pack turns out to be her fated mate, her life may hang in the balance. Will he be her saving grace, or will he reject her for her weakness? Will she ever escape the abuse? If so, can she escape the clutches of the powerful man who believes she belongs to him?

On our wedding anniversary, my husband didn't bring me flowers. He brought home his mistress.
"Lavinia is back," he stated coldly. "It's time you stepped aside. After all, she is the one who gave me a son."
I froze, clutching the hand of our adopted son—the boy I had raised and loved with my whole heart for years. The truth hit me like a physical blow: I had been raising his mistress's child as my own all this time.
My fingers tightened around the pregnancy confirmation hidden in my palm. I forced down the bile rising in my throat, looked him in the eye, and demanded a divorce.


Six months later.
I stood at the airport departure gate, looking down at my ex-husband. He was on his knees in front of everyone, begging.
"Scarlett, please! Don't leave. I know about the pregnancy... I'm that baby's father!"
I let out a cold, sharp laugh.
"No. This baby is mine and mine alone. He doesn't have a father."

So, have you ever heard that saying that you shouldn’t feed stray animals because they’ll follow you home? Turns out that rule applies to demons too…
I didn’t even KNOW he was a demon, but now he insists he owes me his life. The catch? He can’t leave until he “repays the favor,” meaning he’s stuck following me around like some demonic shadow. The good news is, he’ll have plenty of chances to repay me.
Except… I’m starting to wonder if I want him to leave. Especially when he gives me that look, the one that makes my heart race. It’s the kind of look that makes me think I might not mind being saved a little too much.
Sure, he has a tail, but there’s something about him I can’t shake. Maybe it’s the way his voice drops when he gets close, or maybe it’s just because he washes the dishes after dinner. Either way, I’m starting to get attached. Not that it matters because he’s leaving. I know better than to fall for a demon… Right?

Fae are the WORST. Here I am, minding my own business when bam, I get yanked into a summoning circle. Honestly, whoever thought summoning demons was a good idea should be shown why everyone fears demons. Even better? This Fae spells me so I can’t go home until I kill someone for him.
The someone he wants me to kill? The woman who saved my life. Not only is she good, but I can’t bring myself to hurt her. And the worst part? She’s half fae too, that’s just asking for trouble. Now, I’m stuck, bound by my own magic, protecting her, while trying to ignore how much I want to stay. But I can’t. I have to leave eventually. Right?

My aunt was terrified I'd end up with a human. So she arranged a marriage herself.

The groom? Kael Voss. Alpha heir to the most powerful pack on the East Coast.

I had a Moonstone Mate Necklace custom-made for the occasion. Global commission. A hundred and eighty thousand dollars.

The day I went to pick it up, it was snatched right out of my hands.

The woman who took it? Chloe Hart. Kael's so-called childhood best friend.

She looked me up and down like I was a stray dog that had wandered in off the street.

"A hundred and eighty grand? Sweetheart, you can't even afford the tax."

Then she told me to get on my knees. Right there, in front of the whole store. Scream three times, "I'm a worthless stray Omega and I know my place."

I didn't kneel.

I threw her own words right back in her face and put her on the floor with one kick.

That's when Kael walked in. My fiancé. The man I'd never met until that very moment.

And damn... he was gorgeous.

I'll be honest, I'm shallow. Always have been. That face hit every single thing on my list.

So I walked right up to him, gave him my sweetest smile, and said, "Hi. I'm Judy. Your fiancée."

I came back to New York for one reason: to meet the man my mother arranged for me to marry.
I never made it to dinner.
His "sister"—the woman he'd been protecting since childhood, the one he clearly loved more than he'd ever love a fiancée he'd never met—snatched a twelve-thousand-dollar dress out of my hands at a Fifth Avenue boutique and had me thrown out. When I called him about it, he told me I should be grateful to be marrying into his family at all. Then he hung up.
An hour later, she accused me of stealing her ring. Had me pinned against the wall. Told his men to strip me down and film it for "evidence."
Nico laughed when I told him the whole Ferrante family would answer for this.
"With what? You?"
My name is Sera Vitti.
That's all I'll say.

"Who would want a woman like Hazel?"
On the night before our wedding, my fiancé Randy said this in front of everyone.
I stood outside, listening silently before walking away.
Sure enough, at the wedding, he abandoned me to save my sister who was jumping from a building.
"The wedding continues!"
I said with a smile, turning to embrace my disabled husband.
Afterward, I did exactly as they wished, ensuring they would never be apart.
Half a month later, I looked at my ex-fiancé with contempt.
"Compared to my husband, are you even worth mentioning?"

Three years. He worshipped me by day and bedded her by night.
I saw everything. I felt everything—she made sure of that.
So on the night of his coronation, I severed our bond and walked away.
He bled. He knelt. He begged.
Too late.
When I wore white again, it wasn't for him.

In my past life, I replaced my runaway sister Beatrice and was forced to marry mob enforcer Rowan Sinclair.
She thought he was poor with no future, so she ran. My parents didn't even tell me before sending me in her place.
Rowan knew the truth. He carried it like shame, never truly seeing me—only cold stares and silent contempt. I spent years beside him like an unwanted ghost, carefully managing his world while he rose from despised smuggler to feared godfather.
Then his attitude began to change.
Just when I thought we might have a real future, Beatrice returned with tears and lies, claiming I'd stolen her place. Rowan believed her. My parents betrayed me. Everyone chose her.
When a rival family captured us both, guns to our heads, only one could survive.
Rowan pulled Beatrice into his arms and abandoned me without a glance.
They tortured me for three days. The baby in my womb died first. Its father never knew it existed.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to that afternoon before it all began.

In a secluded modern villa, painter Iris Vale begins to suspect the pills hidden in her meals are stealing more than her sleep. As fragments of a buried night resurface—bleached kitchens, a locked basement, shattered glass on a staircase, and the shadow of her dead sister Nora—family protection curdles into psychological captivity. Dark, tense, and intimate, this is a memory-thriller of guilt, control, and the terror of facing what was done in the name of love.

"I want to break off this engagement!" I stormed into his office, slamming the letter on his desk, my heart pounding with fury after being humiliated by his family's staff. Little did I know, the devastatingly handsome man staring back at me wasn't my fiancé at all—he was his uncle, Rex Sterling, who'd lied about being my betrothed to win me over.

What started as a forced arrangement exploded into a whirlwind of passion: lavish gifts, stolen kisses, and a secret wedding that made me Mrs. Sterling. But when the truth shattered our fairy tale at a family gathering—complete with a punch-throwing nephew and scandalized elite—I had to confront the beautiful lie that built our love.

After being reborn, the first thing my sister and I did was swap our grooms.
In our past life, my gentle sister Elara married Felix Hawthorne, the mafia godfather of Marconi City. Surrounded by a domineering sister-in-law and a scheming, manipulative other woman, she was slowly driven into a corner and died of a broken heart.
Meanwhile, I married the polite, illegitimate son of the Graves family. He was a perfect gentleman, but he just didn't love me. Our marriage lasted three years, and we were separated for two and a half of them.
Then one day, Elara and I woke up at the exact same moment—we had been reborn, back to the very morning we were supposed to sign our marriage agreements...

My six-year-old daughter Emily blurted, "I'm getting a new mommy!" while my son Jacob smirked.

"Oh my God, Nate—your sister? Pregnant with your kid? You sick bastard!" I screamed across the restaurant, my voice cracking like thunder as heads snapped around.

For eight years, I'd slaved like a nanny in our home—cooking, cleaning, raising Jacob and Emily—while he dismissed me as worthless. My own kids sneered, calling me lazy and saying I'd never measure up to their Aunt Chloe. Even his venomous mother Barbara spat insults, grinding me under her heel like dirt. Betrayed by them all, I finally snapped.

Little did they know, my mom's $100 million inheritance unlocked the second I divorced that cheat. From doormat wife to billionaire, I rose—exposing their lies, reclaiming my life.

Game over, asshole. Time to watch you beg.

I tricked my billionaire husband into signing divorce papers—he had no idea.

"Exam documents," I lied.

His ex-wife laughed. "Boring paperwork. Don't bother reading it."

He signed without even looking.

Three years of marriage. I thought he'd learn to love me. Ever since she came back, my dinners grew cold while I reheated them alone. I waited in our bed, night after night. I watched him drop everything and run to her with every phone call.

Then I found out I was pregnant.

That same day, I saw him at the hospital—holding her hand, asking about her baby.

I finally stopped waiting.

I left the estate at dawn. Left behind the jewelry, the designer clothes, the empty promises.

Then he showed up at my door.

"I know about the baby," his voice was raw. "I know about the accident. I know everything."

He looked at me like I was his entire world.

Three years too late? Or just in time?

Everyone says I’m crazy.
My husband, Adrien, is Ashmont College’s most esteemed professor—suave, composed, and highly logical. I, on the other hand, am an investigative journalist whose nerves are fried by looming deadlines and too much caffeine. Yet, I insist there’s a woman who shares my exact face, who crawls out of our bedroom mirror every night and slips into my husband’s bed.
Our security cameras always "happen" to glitch at the crucial moments. My son avoids me like I’m a monster, and my neighbors claim they cheerfully greeted "me" in the driveway a few days ago—even though I don't even own a vintage pink dress.
Adrien has started dropping phrases like "psych evaluation" and "sole custody." If I let this drag on any longer, he’s going to personally commit me to a psych ward.
So tonight, I lied about flying to Chicago. Instead, I’m hiding in my own study—waiting for that identical face to crawl out of the mirror one more time.

The day he proposed, Atticus knelt before me, holding the Hale family's heirloom necklace.
I thought I had finally survived the ordeal.
After eight years of unrequited love, being humiliated by his sister, nitpicked by his mother, and mocked by the city's socialites for being unworthy of the Hales... Until this very moment, when he personally fastened the heirloom around my neck. Everyone saw it. I, Clara, was finally accepted by the Hale family.
Tears in my eyes, I said yes, thinking it was the happiest moment of my life.
But just days after putting on that necklace, bizarre red rashes crawled up my neck. My pale skin rotted away piece by piece, and my internal organs went into irreversible failure.
The most absurd part? The exact same day I started rotting, his dying mother miraculously cured her terminal illness, and his sister's half-destroyed face was restored to flawless perfection.
Disfigured and barely looking human, I threw myself off the Harbour Bridge—
I opened my eyes, and I was back on the day of the proposal.

That night, I was dragged into a parking lot and beaten until my hands could never hold a scalpel again.

I thought it was random. Until I heard my own brother and fiancé talking—

"Those thugs went too far, but the result works out, doesn't it? This time, the award will go to Charlotte."

Charlotte. The "poor orphan" my family adopted.

For twelve years, she stole my papers, my opportunities, my glory. And the two men I trusted most handed her everything on a silver platter.

They called me spoiled. Selfish. Difficult.

They even believed I started the fire that killed our parents twelve years ago.

But here's the truth: Charlotte started that fire. I was the one who dragged them out.

They thanked the wrong sister. For twelve years.

Now they want me dead.

Fine. Let Penelope Ashworth die.

I died on the day I was supposed to marry Grayson.
Because my sister Delilah had her heart "broken," my family decided to bring her to our farm in Ashwood to heal through horseback riding. The wedding was postponed.
I lay in the stable at the Clarke family farm, dialing my mother's number with blood-covered fingers.
All she said was: "What kind of game are you playing now? You think if you act pitiful we'll come running? Vivienne, enough!"
My fiancé Grayson was even more brutal: "It's just a postponement, not a cancellation. If you can't handle that, then let's just call the whole thing off—I'll marry Delilah instead."
This was the last time they would disappoint me.
And the last time I would call for help.
I lay in my own pool of blood, already without breath. They thought I was just throwing a tantrum, hiding somewhere to sulk. They thought if they ignored me long enough, I'd come crawling back to apologize.
But they didn't know.
I was already dead.

Everyone says I married the perfect husband—considerate, devoted, loving.
I thought I had happiness too, until my neighbor told me she'd seen "me" having sex with Declan multiple times over the summer, even against the floor-to-ceiling windows. But during those two months, I'd been with my son out of town the entire time.
I rushed home and heard 8-year-old Beckett on the phone, bragging to his father: "Dad, I got Mom out of the way for two whole months. Did you make up with your sweetheart? Where's my allowance?"
I pulled up the security footage and saw a woman wearing my nightgown, with my husband, in every corner of our home... I spent eight years building this family, and they betrayed me together.

My adopted sister, Cordelia, conspired with her biological mother to harvest my organs alive, yet she had the audacity to claim I paid thugs to rape her.
My biological parents didn't bother to ask for the truth. They cursed me, calling me a vicious bastard, and threatened to break my legs.
My fiancé, Caspian, coldly announced the cancellation of our engagement, declaring he would marry the very murderer who killed me.
I had been dead for exactly three days. No one cared. My body was rotting back in a moldy storage room.
Through it all, my soul was trapped in the manor, forced to witness this absurd farce.
But what they didn't expect was that when they finally learned of my death—
Everyone went completely insane.

My mother had no medical license, yet wealthy socialites lined up to hand her fat checks.
I often saw her lead those women into the treatment room, where agonizing screams would pierce through the locked door.
But strangely, those same women emerged radiant, as if they'd shed twenty or thirty years overnight, pressing stacks of cash into her hands with tearful gratitude.
What baffled me more was how she doted on the hired girls like her own daughters.
Yet toward me, her actual daughter, she was nothing but cold—always quick to criticize or strike.
Finally one day, curiosity won. I mustered the courage to peek through that door crack and saw what really happened inside...

I've been to four weddings. I never made it through a single one.
Not because I didn't love enough. Not because they weren't good enough. It was because every time — right at the moment I was supposed to say I do — my parents would appear on cue, fall apart on cue, and burn everything to the ground on cue.
For years I thought they hated me. Thought they'd given all their love to my dead sister, Claudia, and had nothing left. Then my brother-in-law said something that cracked me open: Any one of those three men — if you'd married him, you wouldn't be alive today.
So which is it? Were they protecting me, or destroying me?

To end two years of a long-distance marriage with my husband, Sutton Brennan, I quit my job and moved halfway across the state to join his top-tier medical center.
But from the moment I clocked in on day one, a nightmare awaited me.
IV pain pumps violently popped open in my hands, medication cabinets rejected my fingerprints, coffee machines sprayed me with boiling water, microwaves exploded in public, and the employee lockers locked me out entirely.
My colleagues laughed at me, calling me a walking disaster. The head nurse publicly berated me for being incompetent. And my husband, the man I trusted most, simply smiled his gentle smile and said, "You're just tense. Give it a few more days."
In my past life, I believed him. I gritted my teeth and held on until the bitter end—and ultimately died inside this very hospital.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on my first day of work.

I was murdered. My body was dumped on the riverbank.
The detective leading the case is Brennan Carter — my husband. He has sworn to find the killer of this "unidentified female." He doesn't know the victim is me.
I've been missing for seven days. My colleagues and supervisors keep calling Brennan to ask where I am. Dismissing it as a tantrum, he's spent the week doing one thing: celebrating his mistress Tessa's birthday.
It wasn't until my phone turned up at the crime scene that it finally hit him — the wife he'd wished would disappear might actually be gone.

Four years ago, Giovanni dumped me in front of everyone at an upscale restaurant. Two weeks later, he was engaged to Rosanna. I made a fool of myself begging on his doorstep, became the laughingstock of Ferro City.
Four years later, he runs into me at Casa Valentino, assumes I'm destitute, and offers me a job as a cleaner for him.
What he doesn't know is that the plainly dressed woman standing before him is the wife of Don Alessandro Valentino—the man the entire underworld bows to.

36 weeks pregnant, I was thrown into the dungeon by my own husband.

When my water broke, I desperately reached out through the mate bond, calling for him—only to discover that he had severed it with his own hands.

They lashed my swollen belly with leather whips. They injected wolfsbane into my veins. And when my baby's head began to crown, they shoved her back inside me.

All because his sister-in-law Genevieve was also in labor today—and her child had to be born as the pack's heir.

I crawled out of that dungeon, drenched in my own blood, only to find him blocking the doorway.

I knelt at his feet, clutching at his trousers, begging. "The baby is innocent. Please... just let me deliver her..."

He kicked me away in disgust. "Wait until Genevieve is done."

Later, fireworks lit up the sky. The entire pack celebrated the birth of Genevieve's heir.

I was dumped in a water cell, watching my blood slowly turn the ice-cold water crimson, feeling my daughter grow still inside me.

Only after he'd gazed adoringly at the newborn in Genevieve's arms did he finally remember me. He sent someone to fetch me from the dungeon.

But his servant returned white-faced, voice trembling:

"Alpha! The Luna... she and the baby... they're both dead!"

I was the best student, the most obedient, the most compliant—yet the only unloved child in our family.

When my brother got into fights, I took his punishment. When my sister snuck out with boys, I bore the consequences. Mom force-fed me pills and made me get my stomach pumped just to scare my brother away from smoking. Dad dressed ten-year-old me like a prostitute and threw me into a bar to warn my sister against going astray.

In the end, they sold me to a gambler for a few hundred dollars.

I died in a dark pond, and no one heard me calling for help.

But when my spirit drifted home, they were gathered around the dinner table, laughing and talking as if nothing was wrong.

It wasn't until the police knocked on their door that they realized—I had been missing for seven whole days.

Later, my brother clutched the chocolate he never got to give me, crying every day. My sister dreamed every night of ten-year-old me struggling and screaming in that bar. Dad knelt at my grave daily, consumed by guilt. And Mom, after killing that gambler, threw herself into the same pond where I had drowned.

Finally, they loved me.

But I was already dead.

On the night of Reeve’s birthday, I drove to his family’s coastal estate with a premium ribeye and a bottle of Pinot Noir, ready to give him a romantic surprise.
But the rug was shifted three inches, and a single drop of dark blood hid in the floorboards. Before I could run, a gun barrel pressed against the back of my head.
The man was impeccably dressed and terrifyingly calm. Upstairs in my bathtub lay the corpse of his pregnant wife.
He ordered me to help him dispose of the body and cover up the crime. My only thought was to stall until my husband got home.
That is, until he spoke—and revealed the root of this massacre. Everything was my husband's fault.

I was Alessandro Romano's wife in name only—the mafia godfather of Belluno City.
We had the most extravagant wedding this city had ever seen: three thousand guests, flowers lining every street. Everything except a legal marriage certificate.
Over three years, he promised to sign the papers twenty-two times. He canceled every single one.
He would buy two identical necklaces, hanging one around my neck and the other around his mistress's, trading a night spent comforting her for a dismissive apology to me.
After the twenty-one broken promise, I stopped waiting.
I packed my bags and left for the one city he vowed never to enter.
What I didn't know: after I left, the man who ruled the underworld completely lost control.

To marry Vincent Romano, I survived twenty-eight near-death experiences over five years.
The first: city hall's foundation collapsed — three broken ribs. The second: a truck rollover — my right leg nearly amputated. The twenty-seventh: a chandelier in the bridal shop, three days unconscious.
All of Seren City laughed at me. Romano's most cursed bride-to-be. Yet I loved him still.
Until the twenty-eighth time.
When the bomb detonated outside city hall, I threw myself over Vincent on instinct. The blast shifted my organs and shredded my back. The day my stitches came out, I felt no relief at having survived.
Because I stood outside the study and heard his voice.
"Her organs were badly damaged. She almost actually died." Antonio's horror was audible. "Vincent, you used to treat her so well—"
"People change." A pause, then quieter: "I did want to marry her once. But before Amelia, I had no idea what it meant to truly want someone. I acknowledge the debt — I just can't spend my life repaying it." Another pause. "Father won't agree, and she won't let go easily."
"So." His voice turned to ice. "The only clean way out is to make her give up on her own. As long as Cassandra refuses to break the engagement, the accidents must continue. Until she walks away."

On the night of my 28th birthday, my husband was stuck in the OR.
The man sitting across from me at dinner was his best friend, Ronan.
I got drunk. Half-asleep, I pulled a man who smelled exactly like Nate into my bed.
When morning broke, the truth did too—the man pinning me down was Ronan. He’d used my husband’s cologne.
"From the first time I saw you, I wanted to steal you from him."
Crying, I confessed everything to Nate over the phone. Dead silence for three seconds, then he hung up.
By the time I rushed home, Ronan was dragging two suspiciously heavy black suitcases out the door. And my husband... vanished off the face of the earth.

Four months pregnant, I walked into the OB-GYN clinic filled with joy—this was the child Archer and I had waited three years for.
But the moment the ultrasound report was handed to him, his gentle gray eyes twisted violently.
"Abort it. We absolutely cannot keep this child."
My stepfather watched coldly. The stepbrother who doted on me most slapped me hard across the face. My own mother wielded the scalpel and removed my uterus.
Half a month later, they picked me up from the hospital with roses, only to turn around and lock me away, feeding me psychiatric drugs until I died.
Reborn, I thought that as long as I hid the report, I could save my baby.
But they forced me onto the operating table once again.
It wasn't until I saw the report with my own eyes—
That I finally understood why my child had to die.

The anonymous post’s warning came true. I was trapped in an endless loop of death.
In my first life, I took on a high-risk surgery, only to be brutally stabbed by a grieving family member afterward. Thirteen fatal wounds left me bleeding out on the floor.
In my second life, I faked an injury to avoid the operation, only to be shoved down a steep flight of stairs, resulting in extreme head trauma and a snapped neck.
In my third life, I performed the surgery alone. My reward was a cold gunshot straight through the skull.
In my fourth life, I live-streamed the entire procedure. The surgery went flawlessly, yet my throat was still slit, and my skull was crushed by a heavy blunt object.
On my deathbed, I finally glimpsed the horrifying secret hidden within the patient...

I'm Sophie White, an orphan who was arranged to marry Bay City's most powerful devil—the ruthless, dangerous, and devastatingly handsome Adam Foster.

"Adam, please..." I whimpered as his touch set my body aflame. From the bathroom to his massive bed, he claimed me relentlessly until dawn, leaving me breathless and burning with desire.

But beneath our passionate nights lurked a terrifying reality. My fairy tale marriage became a nightmare of obsession and control. He monitored my every move, threatened my unborn child, and kept me prisoner in his golden cage.

Everything changed the night he led me to his secret basement—a chamber of horrors where his own father had tortured him for five years. As I stared at the chains and shadows of his past, I finally glimpsed the broken soul behind those cold eyes.

Was this vulnerability real? Or was I falling deeper into the trap of Bay City's most dangerous predator?

Just when I thought I knew all his secrets, I discovered something that would shatter both our worlds forever...

"Please, no—stop!" I begged, but Alexander just snarled, pinning my wrists above my head as he rammed his throbbing cock into my slick, unwilling pussy, stretching me wide with brutal force. "Fuck, you're so tight, you dirty little whore—take every thick inch!"

I'm Nora Frost—wait, Nora Traynor—sold like a cheap commodity by my greedy parents for $100 million to Alexander Claflin, Kingsley City's savage billionaire beast. Post-wedding, he uncovered my secret pregnancy and detonated: labeling me a cum-slut, and snarling demands to slaughter the "bastard spawn" in my womb.

The bombshell? That baby was his—conceived in our filthy, passion-fueled one-night fuckfest. He melted, worshipping me with desperate love, vowing an eternal family... until a car crash erased only me from his memory—every trace of Nora, our child, our love—while he recalled everyone else. Cue his manipulative ex, Vivian Brooks, slinking in like a venomous snake.

And I caught them mid-fuck: "Oh fuck, Alexander, pound me harder—deeper!" she wailed, "Yes! Fill me up, baby—make me scream!" "FUCK YES! I'M CUMMING!" she shrieked, his roaring climax spilling into her as they collapsed in tangled ecstasy.

Devastated, I fled. Five years later, I return with our son—a mini-Alexander, with piercing green eyes and dark hair. When he spots the boy, realization dawns: this isn't simple. As buried truths erupt and Alexander hunts me with obsessive fury, one scorching question ignites: Will our rekindled fire heal us... or destroy everything?

The most humiliating moment of my early life was when my father drove my mother and me out of our home. From a pampered heiress, I fell to the depths of a bar hostess. It was there that I encountered a man I would never forget for the rest of my life. After a one-night stand, I accepted his proposal—who could refuse someone they had admired for so long?

I thought I'd found redemption, but it turned out the pregnancy was a misdiagnosis! From then on, Raymond offered me nothing but money and sex. In this loveless marriage, I endured five years. Just when I thought my life would remain this way forever, he brought a little boy home.

Watching my stepsister's smug smile, my world crumbled. "Raymond, let's get a divorce!"

Three years ago, as Luna Gray, I secretly seduced Gabriel Ashford—heir to a powerhouse family—luring him into a scorching underground fling during our college days in Vale City. For three wild months, our passion burned hot and hidden, until I dumped him cold, leaving him reeling.

Now, I'm engaged to the Anderson family's polished gentleman—a strategic move that ignites Gabriel's explosive return from London. He's back in Vale City, transformed into a ruthless financial kingpin with the infamous "Big Cannon" nickname (earned from his handsome, towering build and the swirling rumors of his enormous dick—though only I know the truth: it's huge, and it wrecked me every time, pushing me to the brink of ecstasy I could barely endure).

Our secret past detonates, shocking Vale City's elite circles. Everyone braces for revenge from the ice-veined CEO, popcorn in hand. Instead, a viral video leaks: me straddling him in his top-tier ride on a foggy roadside, his dark eyes stormy as he grips my hips, slamming me against the steering wheel. We're grinding hard, my nails digging into his shoulders while he growls, "Feel how you own this cock, Luna? Beg for it." But in a heartbeat, he crumbles—eyes red, voice breaking: "Baby, I fucked up. Please, love me again?"