4745 Book(s) Related to My husband says that he loves me

Wearing a plain black velvet dress and zero jewelry, I sat quietly in the back row of the Royal Charity, completely invisible among London’s glittering elite.
My only goal tonight? Winning an 1890 Victorian pink diamond for my engagement ring. My family in the Scottish Highlands had just arranged my marriage to Phil Graham, London’s hottest real estate heir.
"Starting at £8,000," the auctioneer announced. I raised my paddle.
Instantly, a flashy woman behind me sneered and raised hers. "Are they letting just anyone into charity galas now?" she loudly mocked to her friends. "Dressed like a department store clerk, and she thinks she can bid on antique jewelry?"
I ignored her, calmly raising my paddle again: "£15,000."
Furious, the woman stood up, her voice echoing across the silent ballroom. "£20,000! I suggest you back off, poor girl. My brother is Phil Graham, CEO of Graham Real Estate. This necklace is mine."
I slowly looked up at her. "Graham Real Estate? What a coincidence. ”
I calmly pulled out my phone and dialed my so-called fiancé right in front of her.
“Phil?” I said lightly. “It seems your little pet sister is trying to hijack my engagement diamond. How exactly do you want to explain this to me? Should we cancel the wedding?”

Three years ago, I took a bullet for Damon Kingsley. It came within half an inch of my heart.

He looked me in the eyes, his own red, and swore he'd love me for the rest of his life. So I married into this century-old Italian-American Mafia dynasty.

But on our wedding night, the moment he touched me, he convulsed, coughed up blood, and collapsed.

The second time, an old condition flared up and kept him flat on his back for a month.

The third time, he nearly bled out.

Every time after that, the same thing.

The whole family called me a curse. Marked. Bad luck. The kind of woman who brings death to whoever gets close.

The Godmother gave me an ultimatum: get pregnant within a month, or sign the divorce papers and be shipped off to Chicago to marry the devil himself.

I was carrying a fertility tonic to his study, ready to beg him one more time, when I heard voices through the door.

"Mr. Kingsley, please, you gotta stop. Every time you don't wanna go near her, you shoot yourself up with that stuff. You're gonna kill yourself."

Damon was quiet for a long moment. Then, calm and flat: "Aurora is the only woman I love. I'd take the pain any day over touching her."

All this time, while the whole family called me a curse, the one who actually put it on me was the man I almost died for.

Damon Kingsley. After today, we're done. In this life or the next, don't ever cross my path again.

Three years ago, Grant divorced me while I was pregnant.
That same day, I was in a car accident, and our baby didn’t survive. Grant never found out because he was celebrating another woman’s birthday.
Three years later, he decided that the son I had raised was his. He took the boy away without permission and exposed him to a cat, triggering a severe allergic reaction that nearly killed him.
When Grant finally knelt and begged me to take him back, I told him only one thing:
“I stopped loving you a long time ago.”

For five years, my husband claimed he could not understand emotion.

I believed him, excused every broken promise, and taught myself to survive on scraps of attention.

Then I went to his office with news of our unborn child and heard him laughing with the woman who had helped him deceive me.

He had married me for a pureblood heir. Once the baby was born, he planned to throw me away.

He wanted an heir from a devoted wife. Instead, I gave him a funeral.

"I'm looking for a wife," he said. "And I believe you may be suitable."
"You're not in love with me."
"No."
"You don't intend to be."
"No."
"Then why would I agree to this?"
"Because I'm not offering romance. I'm offering security."
She married him knowing one thing clearly: love was never part of the agreement.
Their marriage was built on terms, not promises.
A shared home. A shared bed. A public image to maintain.
Nothing more.
He was distant, controlled, and never cruel, but never warm either.
To him, she was a wife in name, a solution to a problem, a role that needed to be filled.
What neither of them expected was how silence could become dangerous.
How intimacy without love could still leave marks.
How wanting someone could come long before admitting it.
As the line between obligation and desire begins to blur, she must decide how long she can stay where she isn't truly chosen and he must face the truth he never planned for.
Because sometimes, the most dangerous thing isn't loving someone too much…
It's realizing you never meant to love them at all.

The mafia boss chose me as his decoy—a body double for the woman he loves.

Eight years. Three bullets, one car crash, one explosion. The doctor said ten more minutes and I would've died on that operating table when they took my kidney. I gave him a son. He let me play "the boss's wife" in public.

Until he cleared every obstacle for her and decided to marry her.

Her wedding photos replaced mine in the master bedroom. He has her initials tattooed on his arm. When I questioned him, he had his men slap me at a charity gala, forced me to admit "I'm just a stand-in." When I touched her, he took away my custody, declared she was "the true lady of this house."

The punishments got worse. When he threatened to cancel my mother's insurance, I finally learned to shut up.

He pulls me close, whispers in my ear: "She gave up everything for me. Not like you—you were born to take bullets for me."

"Deal with it. She's not replacing you. This is her house now."

Even my son took her side.

"Stop being dramatic! Natalie actually loves us! You're nothing!"

But their pure, innocent Natalie? She unplugged my mother's ventilator while I was locked in the basement. Let his enemies slip poison into my drink during the last job.

When Grayson found me, all he said was: "She's pregnant and emotional. Go rearrange the flowers at the wedding venue."

I wipe the black blood from my lips. Look at him quietly.

"I'm dying."

While I was being kidnapped, tortured, and murdered in the horse stable of our own family farm, my all-powerful chaebol fiancée was helping my green tea younger brother try on wedding attire.
Before dying, with my broken, blood-stained finger, I dialed the last desperate call for help.
On the other end of the phone, her tone was filled with scorn and impatience: "Vincent, can't you even tolerate a little grievance from your younger brother? Let's just cancel the engagement, and I'll replace you with him as the groom."
Later, I truly died.
My soul drifted in mid-air, watching coldly as the whole family thought I was faking death to make a scene. My older sister even kicked over my disfigured body on the haystack in disgust: "Get up right now, stop pretending to be pitiful here!"
Until the flashlight's beam completely illuminated my ghastly, rigid face, and the shattered phone screen, still stuck on the moment she hung up, clutched tightly in my dead hand...
That forever aloof, arrogant female CEO finally went weak in the knees, kneeling in the foul-smelling, blood-soaked filth, and utterly lost her mind.

We have been neighbors our whole lives and were best friends when we were kids. Now he is my bully who claims that I am his to torment. There is only one little problem, I have been in love with him since I was sixteen. For two years, Jace Palmer has tortured me with his cruelty in the halls of our high school, but how do I make him stop when it's those same actions that excite me more than they should. Especially when he slams me against a locker and whispers, "You've been a bad girl, Ella."
Now that he's claimed me as his own, he opens my eyes to the darkness within me, turning everything that I have ever known into a thing of the past while helping me to embrace my new role in his life. Only by doing so, it unlocks a piece of me that will change everything. Once my true self comes forward, will he be able to handle the aftermath of his choices?

She only wanted one night.

He was supposed to be a beautiful stranger she’d never see again.

But fate has other plans.

Three years ago, Emmaline Facer made a bold choice. She slept with the first man who made her heart race — and disappeared the next morning, leaving with stolen money, a stolen car, and leaving behind a man who never stopped looking for her.

Now? She’s back. Working for one of New York’s biggest fashion companies. And her new boss?

Ezra Queen — the man she abandoned.

He hasn’t forgotten her. He hasn’t forgiven her. And what neither of them knows is that their lives are about to get far more complicated.

Now, forced to work together, old sparks ignite, buried secrets rise, and a dangerous game begins — where love battles betrayal, and past mistakes threaten everything.

And a little girl who isn’t who everyone thinks she is.

Mia’s husband never stops complaining about her curves. Too soft. Too heavy. Not attractive anymore.
Desperate to fix herself, she starts training at her brother-in-law’s gym. Jake is older, built, and looks at her the way her husband never does.
What begins as private sessions quickly turns filthy. He takes her innocence in the locked back room while she begs him to keep it secret.
She’s still married.
He’s still family.
And neither of them can stop.

After being brought home by my biological parents, I thought I'd finally get the love I'd been missing.

But no matter what I did, they only blamed me for bullying my adopted sister. My husband would just look at me with disgust.

They thought I was cruel and evil. When my adopted sister was diagnosed with leukemia, they forced me to donate bone marrow to her.

I was forced to eat and exercise, gaining twenty pounds in half a month.

My adopted sister suddenly looked at me and said, "Sis, to tell you the truth, I don't have leukemia at all. I'm just playing with you. When you die on the operating table, I'll be with your husband."

I felt so sick I wanted to die.

But I couldn't die.

I had to survive.

I had to crawl out of this hell alive!

My husband told me our daughter was brain-dead. He put a pen in my hand and told me to sign the organ donation form. He said it was the merciful thing to do.
I signed.
Then I watched her heart get cut out and transplanted into another child — his mistress's son.
He'd been planning it for months. The fake diagnosis, the doctor who happened to be his college girlfriend, the night his mother lured me away from the hospital so they could drug my little girl.
When I found out the truth, he killed me for it.
But somehow, I woke up back at that desk. Same pen. Same form. Same lying face waiting for my signature.
This time, I'm not signing. This time, they pay.

She came with claws and fire, scent like sin; his wolf didn’t stand a chance. Neither did he.

•••

Brant Paxton has always been the wild one—gorgeous, untamed, and irresistible to everyone. But when Sable Knox returns, everything changes. She’s no longer the sweet girl he remembers. She’s fierce, sexy, and carries a scent that sets his wolf on edge. The heat between them is dangerous. Forbidden. But Brant can’t stay away.

Sable once called the Paxtons her family, but one tragic night tore it all apart. Now she’s back, stronger and smarter, ready to make them pay—especially Brant. But nothing prepares her for the fire that ignites when they’re close. Her wolf wants him. Craves him. And Sable doesn’t know if she’s falling into his arms or into a trap.
As old wounds reopen and passion burns hotter, Brant and Sable must choose: follow the rules or give in to the sin that could ruin them both.

Content Warning: This book contains sexual content and mature themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Sheetal's Soliloquy
I know you. You were the one who had been bothering me. With a chuckle, he replied, "I know you'll never forget me, Dolce." However, you made a small mistake. Honey, that wasn't harassment. That was my devotion to you. " He abruptly grabbed my waist as he spoke. I arched my back and stared at him, my eyes wide. This crazy boy has returned, but he is not the same as before. He is now more attractive.
When I thought, I coughed unexpectedly and said, "Excuse me." What's your name? "

Five years ago, Magnus Ashford shattered Vivienne Marlowe’s world, throwing her out with nothing but divorce papers on their anniversary. The love they once shared was destroyed by betrayal, and Vivienne vowed never to look back—especially with the secret she carried: their twin sons. Now, a renowned neurosurgeon, Vivienne has rebuilt her life, raising her children alone.

But fate has a way of forcing the past to resurface. Magnus’s beloved grandmother suffers a life-threatening stroke, and the only surgeon who can save her is none other than Vivienne. When their worlds collide once again, old wounds are reopened, and Magnus is determined to make things right.

"You have no idea how much I regret what I did," Magnus confesses, his voice thick with remorse. "But I swear, I'll do anything to make it right."

Vivienne meets his gaze, her heart heavy with a truth she's kept buried for too long. "Some things can never be fixed, Magnus."

But there’s one thing he doesn't know… their sons his sons are right under his nose. And Vivienne is about to make a choice that will change everything.

Will Magnus uncover the truth before it’s too late, or will his regrets be buried forever?

The moment the divorce papers were signed, I was finally free from three years of a loveless marriage. To celebrate, I drank myself into oblivion under the hazy lights of an exclusive club. Fueled by liquid courage, I stumbled into a private suite, pointed a trembling finger at the man radiating a lethal combination of restraint and danger, and rasped, “I want you.” He didn’t refuse. That night was a storm of tangled limbs and desperate heat, and he branded his mark on my very soul.

A month later, I stared at two pink lines on a pregnancy test. I fled to Florida, burying the truth and raising my beautiful twin daughters with a new fiancé who played the perfect father.

Five years later, I returned to New York, a queen ready to claim her corporate throne. But when I strode into the boardroom, I froze. The man with the power to veto my entire future, Ryan, was sitting at the head of the table. A knowing smirk played on his lips, coiling around me like a viper.

I tried to avoid his intense gaze, but unexpectedly, at a glittering gala, he caged me between the wall and the unyielding heat of his body. His breath was a scorch against the sensitive skin of my neck as his voice, a low, rough murmur full of raw possession, vibrated through me. “You sounded so exquisite that night… and now you’re telling me those children are his? Do you really think I’d believe that?”

Candice never imagined she would have to marry a man who had been to prison and was extremely poor, but when her father kidnapped her mother to avoid breaking a promise, she had no choice but to take her sister's place. However, the man she thought would be terrifying turned out to be kind and respectful, giving her a sense of security she never expected.

But when she discovers her husband's hidden identity, everything she thought she knew about him - and herself - is turned upside down.

On their wedding night, Candice's heart was pounding in her throat. As she closed her eyes, she felt a force wrap around her waist and she fell into his arms, only to be pushed onto the bed. Her mind went blank as she realized there was much more to her husband than met the eye. As she tentatively reached out her hand to hook around his neck, she whispered, "You're my husband, so it's okay to do anything to me... shall we start?"

Little did she know, this was only the beginning of a dangerous game of secrets and desire that would test the limits of her love and loyalty.

I thought the orchestrated assault was the most profound betrayal of my life. Then, from the shadows of the wine cellar, I heard my husband and his brothers toasting to their success.
"The slow-motion capture of her climax, paired with those broken whimpers... it was cinematic perfection."
"She played her part beautifully. After all, she’s just a Valenti."
I learned the devastating truth: my agony was their scripted entertainment. My husband. The director.
He married me to claim his inheritance.
He branded me to mark his property.
He caused my miscarriage in that dungeon, coldly calling it "tidying up loose ends."
But they overlooked one ancient law—the Moretti blood oath: should the Don betray his vows, everything becomes his wife's.
Now, I stand in the penthouse of his casino.
My fingers trace the scar on my shoulder—now transformed into a dagger.
"Darling, you celebrated the anniversary of your production. My gift to you is a lifetime behind bars."
Now, the final cut is mine.

My three-year-old daughter hides behind the sofa whenever I try to hold her now.

“Mommy is scary,” she whispers, clutching her stuffed bear like a shield.

I thought it was just a toddler’s overactive imagination.

Until I checked the camera feed in my own bedroom.

I watched a woman who looked exactly like me step out of the shadows of our antique mirror, slip into my husband’s bed, and kiss him.

Five months after Arthur died in the line of duty, my stepmother-in-law, Martha, dragged me into a private clinic in Seattle and tried to force me to end my pregnancy.
The consent form had barely come off the printer when a tiny, milk-sweet voice exploded inside my head—
Mommy, run! Daddy isn't dead! They've got him locked up in a veterans' rehab center outside the city, and they're brainwashing him!
Last time, you believed that wicked grandma. I never got born, and when Daddy found out the truth, he lost his mind!
I tore the form in half right there and stormed off to the rehab center, belly first.
I had just reached the door of the assessment room when I heard a woman's voice inside—the counselor—holding Arthur's hand and murmuring, "Captain, let go of the past. We can start over."
I lifted my foot and kicked that solid-wood door as hard as I could.

In my past life, I was shoved into oncoming traffic by my husband's widowed cousin, Isabella.
"Why do you get the perfect husband and the Romano fortune? Go to hell!"
I died, and my unborn child died with me. Up until my last breath, I thought she killed me out of purely manic, bitter jealousy.
When I opened my eyes, I was back at that exact crosswalk, rewound to the second she was about to push me.
Only this time, I stepped aside.
And I finally learned the truth. She wasn't just an envious widow—she was my husband's secret lover. And the one who paid the million-dollar bounty for my murder to steal my mafia empire was the "flawless" man sleeping in my bed.

Ninety-nine times.

I was sent to the punishment chamber ninety-nine times by my mafia don fiancé.

Each time, he watched through bulletproof glass with cold, detached eyes—watching me being deprived of sleep, injected with drugs, tortured until I was barely clinging to life.

"Elara, you're paying for what you did to the Mancuso family."

For the sake of sweet, innocent Yvette—his precious savior—he personally destroyed everything I had.

After the ninety-ninth time, the doctor handed me a critical condition notice. I stopped begging, signed the confession, and vanished completely with my broken body.

The result? When the truth finally came to light, the ruthless don went completely insane.

Kate Ellison was seven years old when a wolf pack supposedly burned her town to the ground and killed her family. That story built her — the Guild raised her on it, trained her on it, turned her into one of their sharpest weapons because of it.
It was a lie.
Ten years later, sent to infiltrate the very pack she was taught to destroy, Kate comes face to face with its Alpha, Jesse Calloway — and recognizes the scar on his collarbone as the twin of her own. He's not the monster who killed her family. He's the boy who pulled her out of the fire the Guild set to start a war.
Now Kate has six days to choose between the only family she has left — a grandmother held hostage by the man who orchestrated it all — and the man whose trust she has to betray to save her. Fire and wolves, the two of them. It's only a matter of time before the truth burns down everything either of them has left to lose.

I have been invisible my entire life. Not the poetic kind of invisible, the kind where your own mother looks through you at dinner, where your name is only said when something needs to be done or someone needs to be blamed. I was never the daughter they loved. I was the one they kept around in case they needed something.

And they finally did.

My twin sister ran. Left her wedding, her billionaire groom, and her entire arranged life behind without a single word to me. So they handed it all to me instead... her name, her dress, her future. I didn't get a choice. I never got a choice. One slap from my father and I was stepping into a limousine headed toward a life that was never mine.

The Hale Estate was everything I had never been allowed to want. Grand and cold and full of secrets that hummed behind every wall. Alistair Hale, my new husband, was dying, slowly and deliberately, like a man with unfinished business. The staff smiled too carefully. The rooms felt watched. And nothing, not a single thing, was what it appeared to be.

Then there was Lucian.

When her father was wrongfully jailed, Ella’s fiancé Noah betrayed her for her best friend Cassandra, sending her to the disabled tycoon Sebastian to atone for a fake crime. For five years, she suffered abuse, three miscarriages and public humiliation, until she uncovered their cruel conspiracy: Cassandra stole her kindness, and everyone she trusted framed her family.
Ella faked her death to escape the endless abyss. As all betrayers perished, the guilt-ridden Sebastian traveled far and wide to seek his long-overdue redemption.

To save her kidnapped fiancé, Sophia is willing to dance on a livestream, sacrificing even the last shred of her dignity.

But after she finally fulfills every demand of the kidnappers, she hears the so-called “hostage” laughing on the other end of the call.

“I can’t believe she was actually that stupid. And dressed like such a slut, too. I guess she’s just naturally that promiscuous.”

Betrayed by the man she loved most, Sophia turns around and marries Sebastian Crawford—the powerful man everyone fears.

She thinks their marriage is nothing more than a marriage of convenience, a simple deal between two people who each need something from the other.

But she couldn’t have been more wrong.

Her cold and ruthless husband not only helps her destroy every enemy who ever wronged her, but also slowly turns her into the untouchable Mrs. Crawford.

Meanwhile, the man who once pushed her into the abyss begins to lose his mind after realizing what he has lost.

When Sophia appears in public with her arm linked through Sebastian’s, he finally understands—

The woman who once would have sacrificed everything for him no longer belongs to him.

Just when everyone thinks Sophia has finally reclaimed her life, Sebastian reveals a truth she never expected:

Their marriage was never as simple as she believed.

And the man who has been waiting for her has been waiting far longer than she ever knew.

"Aveline, a world without you means nothing to me."
The dragon's scalding blood splattered across my tombstone, melting the thick blanket of snow.
Five minutes ago, he had severed the crimson fox's head—vengeance for me.
I died at the hands of my most cherished companion, died in a carefully orchestrated betrayal. I'd wielded the full power of the Court to elevate that pitiful low-born wretch to godhood, only for him to join forces with my dear sister and plunge a blade into my heart from behind.
And the dragon war god I had scorned—the one I'd humiliated and treated as nothing more than a beast slave—defied imperial decree, razed an entire city, and severed his own life force. All for me.
I watched his dragonfire extinguish completely in the bitter cold. My soul reached out to embrace him, but passed through nothing but endless snow.
Until a blinding light pierced through my vision.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself staring up at the familiar domed ceiling of the Celestial Hall.
I had returned to three years ago, to the Binding Ceremony that sealed my fate.
Reborn into a second chance, those vermin who climbed to power on dragon bones will finally get the hell they deserve.

On our wedding night, James moaned my sister's name while inside me.

I shoved him off in fury. He looked down me with contempt.

"You're just a replacement for Raina. Don't expect too much."

Later, a fake surveillance video pinned Raina's death on me.

I couldn't prove my innocence. James had me thrown into prison.

For three whole years, I endured abuse behind bars.

The day James picked me up, he tore off my clothes and forced himself inside me.

Afterward, he tossed a document at me. "Sign it."

Turns out David—his and Raina's son—had leukemia.

He wanted me to bear a child—only to sacrifice it to save the one he had with Raina?

I couldn't accept it.

A cold smirk crossed his handsome face. "Refuse? Then your mother's medical funding ends now."

"Your only value lies in your womb. Learn to obey."

From then on, he came to my room nightly. There was no tenderness, only brutal taking.

Then fate played its cruelest joke.

I discovered a paternity test—it proved I was David's biological mother.

Which meant... David was my son? Mine and James's?

Evelyn Vale plans weddings, memorials, and private family ceremonies for people who care too much about how grief looks on camera. She knows lighting, timing, guest flow, and the hidden machinery behind a perfect public moment.

Then one night, while sitting beside the husband who kisses her goodnight, she sees a livestream event scheduled for tomorrow: her own memorial service.

The cover uses her mourning portrait. Grant, her husband, is posed as the devastated widower. Serena, her half sister, stands beside him like a woman already rehearsing the role of replacement wife.

At first Evelyn wants it to be a mistake. Then the invoices appear. The funeral campaign is paid for. The backend record existed. Someone with internal clearance created it, deleted it, and expected Evelyn to die before the broadcast.

Julian Cross, a former livestream safety investigator disgraced by an old death case, is the first person who treats Evelyn's fear as evidence. Together they follow the countdown through funeral contracts, planted comments, medical manipulation, board pressure, platform corruption, and a hidden operator using public grief as a business model.

But Evelyn is not waiting to be rescued. She knows how to build an event. She knows where witnesses should stand, when a microphone should stay open, and how a lie collapses when the room sees the right proof at the right time.

Grant scheduled the funeral.

Evelyn hosts it better.

I was ranked first in my class, which made me this year's valedictorian.

Years ago, my dad served overseas, and a war correspondent wrote a story about him. He cut the article out and kept it in the inside pocket of his old jacket for twenty years.

I read it for the first time when I was twelve, and ever since then, I'd wanted to be a reporter like that.

But I almost turned down Northwestern's Medill School of Journalism for Spencer, my childhood best friend. I was going to follow him and his girlfriend, Chloe, to Stanford.

Four minutes before the Decision Day deadline, a video popped up on my phone. There was no sender.

The woman on the screen had fine lines around her eyes and a raspy voice. She had my face.

"Spencer logged into your account and switched your enrollment to the local community college. All because Chloe told him she was sick of you tagging along after him."

"After that, you fought to transfer, fought your way through grad school, and you still never got that press pass."

"Nora, you could have made it to the farthest corners of the world."

The screen went black. I ran back to my room and pulled up the applicant portal.

Right there under enrollment choice was some community college I'd never even heard of.

My hands were shaking as I switched it back to Medill. When I hit confirm, there was one minute left.

Then I realized something. As of that moment, eighteen years of friendship between Spencer and me were done.

I lent my Bugatti to my secret boyfriend for clout. He repaid my trust by gifting my car to a scheming cheerleader, letting her publicly humiliate and frame me. The whole school mocked me as a poor garage keeper’s daughter, unaware I’m the hidden billionaire heiress behind the supercar. Now I’ll destroy his fake rich life and avenge every insult.

Six weeks after his girlfriend had twins, my husband got himself fixed. He billed it to my insurance.
Then he spent nine years driving me to fertility clinics. Two surgeries. Four rounds of shots. He held my hand every time and told me next time.
The whole town said it was my fault. His mother asked me every Sunday if there was any news.
I died at forty-four. Three days before the end I couldn't open my eyes, but I could hear them over my bed. The girl I bought a purple bicycle for called him Dad.
Then I opened my eyes and I was thirty-four again, on a gurney, waiting for them to open me up one more time.
Last time I lay back down and let them do it. I did it three more times after that.
This time he's paying me back for all nine years, one line at a time.
The nurse asked me to confirm my date of birth. I did. Then I told her I wasn't doing it.

I’m Elowen, a Fae heiress. I snuck into the human world for a little fun and somehow ended up working as the personal bodyguard of Manhattan billionaire Grayson Whitmore.

To keep my real face from attracting trouble, I had one of my people cast a glamour on me, giving me a face full of freckles and a homely appearance.

Grayson criticized everything I did, yet every time I tried to quit, he refused to let me go.

His best friend, Preston Hale, was different. After I saved his life, he held my hand and made me a promise.

“Ellie, I don’t care what you look like. I want to give you a home.”

I was curious what it would be like to marry a human, so I said yes.

But at our engagement party, Brielle Vaughn, Preston’s first love who had spent years in Europe, burst through the doors with tears in her eyes.

Preston immediately yanked his hand away from mine.

“I’m sorry. She’s the one I love.”

Then he handed me a five-million-dollar check, put his arm around her, and left without looking back.

The guests laughed at me for ever thinking I belonged in Preston’s world.

All I could think was how ridiculous the whole thing was.

I turned and opened the door to the private lounge. The man who had watched the entire spectacle was sitting in the shadows.

I grabbed his tie and smiled.

“Grayson, don’t you need a wife to keep your family off your back? Why don’t you marry me?”

For eight years, Riana Regalia played the perfect Luna.
Loyal wife. Elegant hostess. The silent shadow behind the powerful Alpha Wesley Winters.
When she walked down the aisle, it was for duty, not love.
Her husband gave his heart to another, his fated mate, and her half-sister.
Her own daughter grew to adore the woman who stole her place.


The day she signed our divorce papers, she stopped hiding.
The struggling fashion label he mocked? Now a global empire.
The lonely Luna he had ignored became his most powerful rival.
Alpha Wesley thought he was freeing himself from a gold-digger.
He never imagined she'd become the number one threat to his empire.


Now, he wants a second chance. His pack is in chaos. And his so-called fated mate is scrambling to salvage his reputation.
But this Luna doesn’t answer his calls anymore. She’s too busy counting her billions.
He underestimated the quiet wolf.
Now the world will learn who the true Queen is.

"You're nothing but a replacement."

My husband said it with his eyes every time he looked through me to see her face. His mistress said it with that slow, satisfied smile. My own brother—the one I would have died for—proved it the night I saw him looking at her like she hung the moon.

I married a man who never once saw me.

I worked myself hollow for a family that used me like a tool and called it marriage. I gave up my career, my research, my dignity. I even gave up the right to be sick—because I have stage-four cancer and I haven't told a single soul.

I'm dying. And nobody knows.

But here's what they didn't count on: I'm not gone yet.

Before I go, I'm taking everything back.

Some women burn quietly until there's nothing left.

I'm done burning quietly.

She sacrificed a brilliant career to be his secret wife. But on their anniversary, he gifted his precious first love a $15M piano, while tossing her a dog-eared cookbook. In that moment, seven years of silent devotion died. The countdown began.

For thirty days, she watched his other woman move in. For thirty days, she endured his neglect and cruelty. She let them believe they had won. All while quietly securing the world-class career she once walked away from.

When the clock struck zero, she boarded the flight without a look back. He was left holding the empty life she built, finally screaming a name he never truly valued—into a silence she no longer cared to hear.

When my daughter was critically ill, my husband and son chose another woman—Ethan's first love.
I dialed a number I hadn't called in years.
"Mom, I've made up my mind. I'm coming home to inherit the family business."

Sabrina Parker used to fall deeply in love with a man named Simon; she did everything and anything for Simon and for her relationship with him as his wife; she sacrificed everything for him, yet what he gave in exchange was pain, tears, and nothing but all of his lies. That's why she decided to end her suffering by filing a divorce, yet Simon won't let her go unless Sabrina will do something for him at last, and that is where he already made a deal with her wife- no, her ex-wife, to be precise."Marry me again and be with me as my wife for two years.
After that, I will let you go completely, Sabrina."She knew she deserved a life free from Simon's deceit, but his demand forced her to confront her future head-on. That day, Sabrina her self needs to give an answer to her Ex-husband, as she stood at the crossroads of her life, Sabrina realized that the choice she made would determine whether she remained bound to her past or moved forward toward a future where she could reclaim her happiness and peace. Her decision would define her path, and she braced herself to confront whatever lay ahead.

I couldn't believe what I had just witnessed. The man I was forced to marry, the one who had vowed to love and cherish me, was caught in a passionate embrace with another woman.
The dressing room had become a secret place for the groom, my groom and his mistress.
I knew I was not supposed to feel anything because I do not love him, right? But why is it that it hurts? Because it hurts so much that I can't breathe.


Natalie Beckham gets forced to marry Tristan Detar by her parents so they could solidify their business that was barely standing, but when she finds out her husband is cheating on her with her sister who is not as innocent as she claims to be, what does she do?
With betrayals and manipulation placed in every step she takes, how does she deal with it?
Who stands by her and helps her face her challenges?

Three days after I died, the morgue called my husband Sebastian to collect my ashes.
He was kissing another woman when he hit speaker, his voice cold and dismissive: "She's dead? Cremate her. Don't call me again."
And just like that, my body was wheeled into the cremation chamber.
When he finally showed up to collect my remains, he smashed the urn on the floor and ground every fragment of my ashes into the tile with his shoe.
"Playing dead? What a pathetic stunt," he sneered. "Tell her the anniversary of my mother's death is coming up. She'd better show up at the cemetery on her knees, or even if she really is dead, I'll scatter her ashes in the sewer myself."
But he didn't know—I truly was dead.
My soul was bound to him, forced to drift at his side as he planned a lavish wedding with his adopted sister Claire—his mother's true killer.
By the time he discovered the truth and exposed Claire at the altar, I had already vanished.
He lost his mind, racing to the ocean to search for my ashes.
Never knowing that the remains he'd crushed like garbage under his shoe—the "fake ashes" he'd dismissed as part of my act—
Were all that was left of me.

I've married sixteen dead men for a living. My seventeenth husband just opened his eyes.
I was born knowing one thing: the dead can speak one last time — but only to a spouse.
So I marry dead men. Rich families pay me to wed their fresh corpses, carry the last words sealed inside me, and read the testament out before the heirs. Then I burn the marriage certificate, and the marriage ends at the grave. Starting price: six hundred thousand dollars.
This morning, the Crane heir drowned in his own pool. Twenty-eight, obscenely rich, not one word left behind. The family offered five million and a private jet. By my count — my seventeenth husband. By a wide margin, the handsomest.
I said "I do" to a corpse for the seventeenth time. Then I called for his last words.
Silence. Sixteen weddings, sixteen voices. Husband number seventeen had nothing to say.
Because my seventeenth husband just opened his eyes.

My husband thinks a "tragic surgical accident" left me completely blind. Now, he's moved his mistress right into our house to be my nurse. They openly whisper about my life insurance while preparing my afternoon tea. They think a blind wife is the perfect prey. But are they sure I'm in the dark?

"The Draganovs are moving on Celeste tonight. I'm taking her to the safe house. We'll do the claiming after this, Orla. I promise."
That's what my husband said the seventh time he chose Celeste over me.
Celeste. The girl he'd loved since before he had a wife to ignore.
The first time, she heard footsteps outside her window at two in the morning. Rafael sent his whole detail to sit on her house and left me at a meeting with two men who wanted our shipping routes and didn't like being told no. I came home with a bullet crease across my ribs. He apologized for a week.
The third time, someone tipped the cops on one of our warehouses and she got scared. He drove her upstate himself. I took a knife at the door because there was no one left standing in front of me.
By the sixth time, he didn't explain. He just texted the doctor to be ready for me and left.
He's a Don. When the guns come out, he walks away clean. I'm the one wearing his name where everyone can see it. The one they aim at first. Six scars say so.
Every time, he held my face after and promised. Founders' Day. In front of every family in the city. Once Celeste was safe. I believed him six times.
So when the seventh time came and he chose her again, my bags were already packed.
There won't be an eighth time he sends me out to die for her. Next time, there won't be a wife left for him to send.

For the tenth time, James Smith left me behind because of a call from his female student.
But it was as if I had become a different person—I no longer doubted that there was something ambiguous between James and his student.
Even on our wedding anniversary, when he abandoned me in the remote mountains for Sophia's sake, I bore no resentment.
Eventually, James began to sense something.
"Emily, you seem different," he said.
I shook my head with a smile.
Because I had simply made a different choice from the one in my past life.

On Employee Appreciation Day, every woman in the office got a $500 bouquet of roses. Every woman except me.

When I went to HR to ask why, I overheard the interns laughing in the breakroom.

"Julian spent Morgan's flower budget to buy Chloe a massive custom bouquet! Who cares if Morgan is the Creative Director? She's just a sad workaholic obsessed with the CEO."

What those interns—and that spoiled little mistress—didn't know was that Julian wasn't just my boss. He was my husband of seven years.

I was the secret genius working for pennies to build his multi-million-dollar agency. But since he wanted to treat me like trash to impress a 22-year-old, I decided to give him the ultimate divorce gift.

I packed up my winning pitch, walked out, and called his biggest, most lethal billionaire rival.

"I'm in," I told him. "Let's bankrupt my husband."

Ella is betrayed in her 25th birthday by her boyfriend, leading to a one-night stand at a bar. She Initially mistaking Eric for just a call boy, later, she discovers that he is actually an Alpha of a pack, leading to an unwanted pregnancy. She ran away without a trace, bearing and taking care of the twins alone. It's later turned out to be an interesting romance. What happens when Eric discover that the twins are actually his? Will Ella forgive Eric for betraying her?

Three years into our marriage, I believed I had married the man who loved me more than anyone in the world—until an explicit photo of a woman went viral.
The woman in the picture had my exact face.
Everyone was convinced I was the one who had cheated.
And my husband, Jarek, didn’t defend me. Instead, he pushed me straight into the court of public opinion, silently allowing everyone to believe I was the one who had betrayed our marriage.
Until I caught him with that woman in our bedroom.
Her name was Sabrina.
She was my identical twin sister.
That was when I finally realized that our entire three-year marriage had been a lie.
He had never loved me.
I was nothing more than a replacement for her—the woman he had lost and gone looking for.
And the cruelest part?
Even when I was carrying his child, even when he left me broken and bleeding, he still chose her.
I lost the baby.
And whatever love I had left for him died with it.
I filed for divorce.
He refused to let me go.

In my past life, I ripped the alien parasite from my brother’s chest to save him. Instead, my family accused me of being jealous of his "god-tier" awakening. They shattered my legs and threw me to a tyrant's mutant hounds.

Reborn on the exact day he fused with that crystal core, I faced my parents who wanted to drain my spinal fluid to "power up" my brother. This time, I just sneered and backed off.

You thought sacrificing me would earn you a god’s blessing? You thought shoving me into the deadly radiation mines would be my end? When I claw my way back to the surface clad in supreme battle armor, I will quietly watch as that monster you worshipped as a god bursts from his chest and chews you all into a bloody pulp, bite by bite!

He pushes me against the wall kissing me fiercely then grabs my thighs lifting me up. I straddle his waist pressing my sensitive spot against his now pulsing dick. Moans escape me as he kisses down my jaw, latching onto my neck. My hands disappear inside the back of his shirt curressing his muscular back. His hand soon finds my breast filling me with bursts of pleasure as he pulls at my nipple. I find myself with every touch wanting more and more. My thoughts about kissing him stand no chance to the real thing. The way he touches me is gentle but filled with hunger. He holds me tightly like he is afraid this will end. Everything about this feels right, natural, perfect, except his impending marriage.


In Ivardia, Humans and Elves have lived separately for 500 years, but this is about to change. Niccola is chosen as a Human Ambassador to help shape the future of Human and Elvish interactions. Little does she know her childhood Elvish friend has a big secret. Where this Prince of Light meets his Princess of Darkness. This is a fated love story full of adventure and surprises.

On the eve of my mating ceremony, my twin sister and I were abducted by rogues.
My Alpha fiancé and my parents drained our territory's wealth, but only bought back my sister Elara's life.
Upon her safe return, Elara seamlessly took my place, claiming my marking ceremony to become his Luna.
Meanwhile, left to rot in the rogue camp, a wolfsbane-laced blade violently carved out my wolf's essence.
Tossed into the wilderness like rotting meat, stripped of my ability to shift and bear pups, I became the Crescent Pack's ultimate disgrace.
Forsaken by my pack, Silas—Alpha of the Obsidian Pack and my childhood friend—defied the Council’s fury. Under the Moon Goddess, he publicly marked me, sheltering me like an absolute treasure.
But now, in the third year of our bond, I accidentally knocked over a half-sealed Memory crystal in his study.
It projected a hidden dark magic ritual into mid-air, tearing the lie of that kidnapping to shreds in an instant.
In the projection, Silas held my sister's hand, his eyes brimming with a sickening devotion.
"Don't be afraid, Elara. Aria's twin essence is a perfect match. With this, you'll safely carry pups with the strongest Alpha bloodline."
A heartbeat later, Silas approached my blindfolded, bound body.
With zero mercy or numbing agents, he carved out my essence with his own hands, drowning out my agonizing howls.