8285 Book(s) Related to elijah in the bible story

In my previous life, on the night of our wedding anniversary, my husband Bryan brought his pregnant mistress, Victoria, into our home. Driven to the edge, I slashed my wrists to force him to kick her out.
No one could have predicted her blood sugar would suddenly crash in the freezing storm outside. She collapsed into a flooded ditch and froze to death before anyone found her.
Everyone ruled it a tragic accident, but Bryan decided her blood was on my hands.
Months later, when I went into labor, he abused his position as my doctor to deliberately delay my care. He left me to writhe through dozens of hours of agonizing contractions and severe hemorrhaging until I bled out.
When, with hands slick with my own blood, I begged him to save our baby, he calmly peeled off his soiled surgical gloves. The look in his eyes was merciless.
"Heartbroken?" he sneered. "Good. Take the brat down to hell with you to keep Victoria company."
An icy, suffocating darkness swallowed me whole.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact night of our anniversary—the very moment Bryan, bringing the freezing rain in with him, protectively guided Victoria through my front door.

"You drive me crazy, Lilith. Just one night... I’ll give you whatever you want. Please let me taste you," my billionaire CEO whimpered, pinning me against the wall, his hot breath brushing my ear.

He is obsessed with my new face, my body, and my ruthless attitude. He is willing to abandon everything just to get into my bed.

If only he knew that the flawless skin he’s kissing right now used to be covered in the acid his mistress poured on me.
If only he knew that I am his dead, naive wife—the one he threw into an ice cellar to die along with our unborn child, just to steal my family's inheritance.

"Anything I want?" I trace his jawline, smiling sweetly as my nail digs into his skin. "Then give me your empire, William. And your life."

I rose from the ashes with a new face and a hidden will. He wants to ruin my lipstick, but I came back to ruin his life.

My mother stared at my body, fused to the sofa, and waited forty minutes before calling 911.
She cheerfully told my father the news, deciding they should celebrate with a nice dinner.
Of course.
After all, they could finally be rid of the burden I’d become—no more tormenting me, no more keeping me locked away.
They could go back to being the respectable parents everyone thought they were.
But—
Someone was bound to see the truth.

My fiancé, Liam Miller, slapped me more than a dozen times in front of everyone over his childhood sweetheart.
Then he shoved me down a spiral staircase.
Both my legs were shattered. My skull cracked open. I spent an entire month in the ICU.
He never came to see me.
Not once.
He was too busy staying by Sophia’s side, planning her birthday party, and getting down on one knee in front of everyone to propose to her.
As for me, I couldn’t even get through the doors of his headquarters anymore. My access had been revoked. My position had been taken. Every trace of my place in his world had been erased.
Nine years.
From nineteen to twenty-eight, I gave him the best years of my life.
In the end, I had given them to the wrong man.
On the day I was discharged, I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cling to him and beg for answers.
I simply called my mother.
“Mom,” I said calmly, “that overseas mafia empire you wanted me to inherit? I’m ready to take it.”
There was a brief silence on the other end.
Then my mother said, “I’ve waited ten years for this day.”
The night before my flight, Liam’s messages flooded my phone.
“Emma, I was wrong. Don’t go.”
What do you think?
Would I ever look back?

For eighteen months, I loved Asher in secret, betting all my pride and heart on our hidden affair. He took my tenderness while prioritizing his rich fiancée, mocking my love and sacrificing my future for his family’s marriage deal. Shamed online, shunned at school and tormented, I made no fuss. I repaid every dollar he gave me, cut all ties, transferred schools and rebuilt myself. He broke off his engagement, lost his pride and begged me to come back—yet all I offered was a final goodbye.

Ice slammed through my veins.
My throat locked up, crushed by an invisible fist. My body convulsed violently, mouth gaping open and shut, but no air came.
Through blurring vision, I saw my polished stepbrother Damien standing there, watching his watch—counting down the seconds I had left.
And Sophie—that scholarship kid who used to sob over dead ants—stood holding the empty syringe, her smile twisted and ugly. "Don't worry, Charlotte. I'll take real good care of your Ivy spot and your boyfriend."
The darkness swallowed me whole.

47 deaths.
48 iterations.
He sold his brother a death trap and called it a farm.
When the dead rose, the experiment began—and the only way out was through.

"If I didn't have to bring you home, Chloe wouldn't have died. Eve... I regret everything."

Those were my fiancé Lucas's final words as we lay dying beneath the crushed concrete.

I blinked, and suddenly my lungs were full of air.

I had returned to the exact day my billionaire biological family came to claim me.

I stared at their forced, plastic smiles.
I watched the imposter daughter eyeing me like a threat.
Without a second thought, I ripped the paternity test in half.

I didn't want their money.
Instead, I walked away and joined the FBI's deadliest bomb squad.

If I was your biggest regret, fine.
This time around, I'll make sure I'm completely erased from your world.

But when a blast finally reduced me to ash in a blinding flash of fire...

The very family who once treated me like dirt tore through the police tape.
They were clawing desperately at the blazing ruins with bare, bleeding hands.
Screaming my name, begging my ashes to come back to life.

I met my future husband from thirty years later in a late-night diner. He knows every hidden habit and secret of mine. Mistaking the star quarterback for my destined love, I endured endless ambiguity and humiliation from him and his stepsister. But when he abandoned me in front of the whole school, I finally learned the truth — the man meant to love me for a lifetime was never him.

"$500,000 for her virginity."

That was the winning bid my fiancé just placed. The item? His female best friend.

"Don't be so petty, Sylvie," he laughed, pulling her close in front of the whole gala. "I'm just saving her from some old creep. We’re basically bros."

She giggled against his chest. "Yeah, don't be a buzzkill, honey."

I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I simply smiled and raised my glass. "I won't."

I let him think he got away with it. Over the next month, I secretly sold our marital home and took a one-way flight to Paris.

Everett didn't realize I was gone until our wedding day, standing alone at the altar, watching the video I sent him.

"You're too brilliant, Lyra. It makes me sick. I had to ruin MIT for you, just so you'd never leave me."

I died in a puddle of my own blood on a rainy night, watching the boy I’d known for eighteen years walk away with Alice, the varsity cheerleader. No ambulance. Just taillights disappearing into the dark.

But instead of fading to black, I blink and find myself staring at my Common App dashboard. Three hours left until submission closes.

The MIT Aerospace Engineering major I bled for is gone, secretly replaced by some trash-tier community college. This time, I don’t scream or throw a fit. I just fix the application and hit save.

Keep that garbage school, Will. Let's see if they still accept you from behind bars.

Oak Creek thinks my brother, Cole, is a saint. He saved the family legacy and adopted the orphaned daughter of a killer out of the goodness of his heart.
What they don’t know is the price of his halo: Me.
To keep his 'good guy' image, he sacrificed his real sister. He gave her my bed, my home, and my parents.
When I was driven out of town, sleeping in a vandalized trailer, he left me a note: Come home and apologize.
I did come back. But not to apologize.
I'm holding the microphone at the town's biggest festival, looking down at the two thousand people who threw trash at me.
I have a stack of receipts, an unedited tape, and the truth about how my parents really died.
Are you ready to meet the real Hale family?

My husband's body moved over Celeste's, driving into her with brutal force.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning like she did for her three million followers—except this performance was just for him.
I was her assistant. Her best friend, supposedly. Which is how I knew her passcode.
Now I was wedged in the back of her bedroom closet, phone aimed through the gap in the slats, ready to catch the bastard in the act.
Then Celeste's moans ripped into a scream. The mattress lurched violently. Blood poured down the sheets in thick rivers.
Her head hit the floor. Rolled. Stopped right in front of the closet.
Those wide eyes met mine through the darkness.

The day after Lucian was titled Duke, he locked down the estate to find the woman who climbed into his bed.
In my first life, I claimed the honor. He grabbed my hand and sneered, "That woman has a scar."
I froze to death in the ice cellar.
In my second life, Martha slashed her own hand and stepped forward. He ripped her collar open. "She has a cross tattoo on her chest. Do you?"
His hounds tore her throat out in the snow.
Now we're in our third life. The Duke just issued a three-day ultimatum, dead certain that the woman is hiding in the Duchess's wing.
Martha and I stared at each other. We're the only two maids serving the Duchess.

Five years ago, on our wedding day, my fiancée Vivian was in the bridal suite fucking my best man.
Five years later, I returned to New York with my wife—the most powerful Mafia matriarch in Naples. At Atelier Milano, Brandon, the same "best man" who betrayed me, fawned over my custom-tailored suit, groveling to the staff about how desperately he wanted to meet the legendary Mr. Salvatore.
He had no idea...
The man he'd once written off as a pathetic loser was the very person he was now begging to impress.

In this house, there was an unspoken rule: every time my adopted sister, Sloane, fed her gambling addiction at the casino, I was the one who had to take the punishment.

When Sloane racked up five thousand dollars in gambling debt, I was locked inside a sub-zero freezer overnight.

When Sloane stole and sold the family jewelry, my parents pinned my shoulders down while my husband ruined my face with a red-hot branding iron.

They claimed that only by seeing me suffer would Sloane feel guilty enough to finally quit gambling.

Until, in a desperate attempt to teach Sloane one final lesson, they hired someone to stage a fake mobster debt collection.

What they didn't know was that the prop gun bought off the black market was loaded with a real bullet.

And as the bullet ripped through my heart, my husband simply kicked my twitching body, laughing as he complimented how realistic my blood pack looked.

Warm blood clogged my windpipe. I lay paralyzed on the floor, my consciousness fading away.

This time, the chip wagered on Sloane's behalf was my life.

I married a rapist.
After the wedding, I played the perfect wife. I always took off my makeup after he fell asleep, and reapplied it before he woke up.
My husband loved showing off on his livestream, bragging that women should know their place.
One viewer sent a warning in the chat:
[Run, man. Only vengeful spirits do their makeup in the middle of the night—when their resentment is strongest, the makeup lasts longer!]
I covered my face and grinned wickedly.
Oops, forgot concealer. My corpse marks are showing.

I ripped out half my heart for him.

Literally.

Six years ago, Draco—the Black Dragon Lord—was dying on the battlefield, enemy claws buried in his chest. So I tore myself open and shoved half my witch's heart into his body to save his life.

After that, I lived with constant pain, my magic drained to nothing. I fought his wars, nearly died a dozen times, all while waiting for him to keep his promise—that he'd make me his queen after the coronation.

But on coronation day, Draco brought back the half-elf Ivy and told me to give up my crown.

Why? Ivy stayed with him in the Abyss for three years. And now she was pregnant with his child.

It destroyed me. So I drank the Oblivion Potion—the one thing that could strip away every ounce of love I had for him.

And in three days, I'm leaving for the polar regions to marry into the Silver Wolf Clan.

The adoptive brother I'd been secretly in love with for a decade took my virginity on the night of my twentieth birthday, fueled by alcohol.

I thought I had finally found love.

Until I stood outside his half-open apartment door and heard his teammates mocking me.

"Damn, Dax, you actually slept with Elara? That boring good girl?"

My hand froze mid-air above the doorknob.

Dax's tone was dripping with contempt. "Look closely at her face. It's exactly like Cassandra's, isn't it?"

"It's no big deal. She revolves around me every single day. All it took was crooking a finger."

"With Cassandra gone, she's the perfect stand-in to kill time."

The room instantly erupted into a fit of unbridled, mocking laughter.

I dug my nails fiercely into my palms, opened my phone, and found the email I had deliberately ignored for a month.

[Florence Academy of Fine Arts — Exchange Program Confirmation]

My parents ruined my wedding six times.

Every single time, right at the moment the ring was about to slip onto my finger—the first time, Mom knocked over the champagne tower. The second time, Dad drove his pickup truck straight through the floral arch... Either the groom wasn't good enough, or the wedding was too cheap. Each time was more batshit crazy than the last. The sixth time, Mom even held a knife to her own throat, threatening me not to put on the ring.

It made no sense to me—why push me to get married while doing everything to stop me from wearing that ring?

So for the seventh wedding, I chose a small chapel in a remote mountain area, went completely off-grid, dead certain they'd never track me down.

Just as Ethan was about to slide the ring onto my finger—

The chapel doors burst open.

Two figures stumbled in, gasping for air, faces streaked with tears.

My parents.

On our seventh anniversary, Jeffrey brought his mistress home for dinner.

Calla wore my dead mother's necklace and called me a "boring housewife" while I cooked for them. Jeffrey laughed, saying I was lucky he kept me around since I'd never contributed anything to our marriage.

What he didn't know? I'd given up my six-figure tech career to nurse him back from his car accident. Sacrificed everything while he treated me like his personal servant.

For seven years, I endured his cheating and cruelty, thinking love meant sacrifice.

I was wrong.

When I left him the divorce papers, Jeffrey screamed that I'd come crawling back within a week.

But when I never came back, he was the one who lost his mind.

In my last life, Natalie insisted on stepping out of the car to feed a wild grizzly.

I tried to stop her. Daniel shoved me into the bear's path instead — to save her.

The grizzly's teeth tore through my throat. My blood sprayed hot across the snow.

And there was Daniel, my boyfriend of three years, holding Natalie close. Not a scratch on her.

He even raised his phone to film me being ripped apart, then posted it on TikTok with the caption: "She gave her life to protect us." The donations poured in for weeks.

Now my eyes are open again. Natalie's pushing the car door open, sandwich in hand, ready to hand-feed the cubs.

This time, I don't scream. I don't stop her.

I just watch her lean halfway out the door — and lock it behind her.

My husband locked our fouryearold son in a 20°C wine cellar for his mistress. Our boy froze to death.
Lawyers silenced me. I was cast aside.
Three years later, I returned.
At a glittering New York gala, I tore apart every lie Liam and Mia had built. Liam begged for my forgiveness—but I had a solid anchor by my side, and I would never forgive him.

Everyone said I was the happiest woman of the Northern Plains Clan, blessed with the purest love from Eric, the Wolf King.
Then my wolf let out a tormented howl.
Through the soul bond of fated mates, I felt it clearly—
my husband held my maid in his arms, drowning in desperate lust.
That nourishing tonic I’d drunk for three years, which I’d believed was filled with his affection, had only been brewed to keep me barren all along.
"Eric, I want you..."
"All of me is yours, my love. Bear our cub soon."
Those sweet whispers I once held dear shattered me to pieces in an instant.
The whole clan praised us as the perfect pair.
Yet who could have imagined this marriage had been built entirely on lies from the very start?
Since he is such a master of pretense, I suppose it’s time I put on a show of my own.
I will expose the true face of this flawless husband for everyone to see.

At my seventh wedding, they replaced me.

The Oracle pointed at me and screamed one word: "CURSED."

Father's hand cracked across my face. Mother tore the wedding dress off my body and shoved my cousin Seraphine into it.

"She'll marry him instead," Father said. "You'll destroy us all."

What they didn't know? A thousand years ago, our family made a blood pact with the Shadow Lord himself: if the eldest Ashford daughter remained unmarried on her twenty-sixth birthday, she belonged to HIM.

Today was my twenty-sixth birthday.

I begged Julian to run. "Please. We have until sunset."

He laughed. "The Shadow Lord's a fairy tale, Anna. Seraphine's just going through the motions. You're being dramatic."

Then he told my parents everything.

They locked me in the tower.

But the Shadow High Priest's warning was clear—at sunset, the Shadow Lord would come. And when he did, I'd drink the Potion of Forgetting and lose everything.

My memories. My name. My soul.

The clock struck five.

He was coming.

My fiancé was going to humiliate me at our own wedding.

I know because I heard him think it.

I'm Isabella Rossi — mafia heiress, future bride to Lorenzo Falcone, the golden boy of New York's underworld. Our marriage was supposed to unite two empires.

I also have a secret. I can read minds. But only when people want to use me, hurt me, or destroy me.

Lorenzo's thoughts had been silent for three years. I thought that meant he loved me.

The night before the wedding, I finally heard him. The mistress he'd planted in the crowd. The fake pregnancy reveal. The plan to humiliate me at the altar so he could play the victim — and steal my family's power in the chaos.

Landon Rhodes and I grew up together, both dreaming of becoming top chefs. But I knew he was the one with a palate kissed by God.

So when Rowan Stone, this street-rat punk, got her claws into him, I took the drinks, the smoke, the slaps for him. When he wanted to skip the National Young Chefs Competition to stay with her drunk ass, I dragged him back to the culinary lab.

He won the championship, got recruited by a three-star Michelin restaurant, graduated and made millions. I became the most invisible prep cook in his kitchen.

Until Rowan wrapped her car around a pole during one of her episodes, and he lured me into a basement.

"This is all your fault! If you'd minded your own damn business, she'd still be alive!"

His foot came down on my right hand. Bones cracking. My fingers ground to pulp.

All those 5 AM trips to the fish market for him. All those nights watching stock simmer for forty-eight hours straight. All the praise he soaked up at final practicals. My sacrifices, and all I got in return was his hatred.

"These worthless hands that can only cut vegetables deserve to rot in the ground with her."

The pain swallowed me whole.

When I wake up again, I'm back to that afternoon when he said he was going to the bar to find her.

This time, I won't stop him.

At seven years old, he pulled me from the rapids—and for the eleven years that followed, I loved this man I called "Uncle."

Then Sophia appeared. She accused me of pushing her down the stairs, and Michael didn't spare me so much as a glance before throwing me out into the storm. I knocked until my hands were raw and bleeding. He never opened the door.

Three years later, he showed up at my workplace, demanding I "come home" with him. His pregnant girlfriend flaunted a twelve-week ultrasound, cooing about how the baby already "looked just like him"—then staged yet another fall, told yet another lie, let out yet another shriek, casting me once more as the heartless monster.

But this time, I won't beg.

This time, I know secrets they don't.

Because that miscarriage three years ago? That baby? That ultrasound?

None of it was real.

The question is—how much has Michael already lost, and can he see the truth before the one person who ever truly loved him is gone for good?

That was supposed to be one of the most anticipated days of my life—the wedding of my best friend, Sarah.
But when I put on my bridesmaid dress, she called me a bitch.
"Get out." Sarah looked at me like I was trash.
"I don't want to see you at my wedding."
I stood frozen in place, staring down at the broken Cartier bracelet she had given me, now lying scattered on the floor.

I was a scholarship student with thirty extra pounds. Del Ashford had two hundred thousand followers and her family's supplement brand on every wall of the athletic center. First week of school, she decided we were going to be best friends.
She said she wanted to help me get in shape. What that actually looked like: I carried her product shipments up three flights of stairs, drafted her emails, and picked up her lunch from the place across campus that didn't deliver.
My roommates started calling me her errand girl behind my back. I let them.
She also introduced me to Beckett Hale. After that, things went the way they went.
She knocked my protein shake over and said I'd burned her. She planted her limited-edition earphones in my bag and told everyone I'd stolen them. The school opened a conduct review. My roommates stopped talking to me.

Beckett said I was the kind of girl who got a little attention and started thinking she deserved more of it.
I couldn't prove any of it. By spring, I was gone.
Some people just aren't built for this, Wren. You know that, right?
Del hadn't even been looking at me when she said it.
Then I opened my eyes and I was back at the party. The night she introduced me to Beckett.

I was once “The BOSS’ wife” of the Moscato family of the Paris Mafia, the one everyone addressed with fear as Donna. Until that night, when iron lamps roared in the warehouse and scalding oil rolled—my own younger brother was hung over a vat of boiling oil, and my husband, the cold-faced Don Lydon, pushed me into hell with one sentence: “Have you learned your lesson?”
More absurd still, the two sons I had raised with my own hands stood by, helping his first love, Agnes, testify against me. In that instant I understood: my marriage, my family affection, my kindness—they had stomped all of it into the oil and fried it to shreds.
I was suppressed when I called the police, refused when I begged for a doctor, mocked when I sought a divorce—yet I still slapped the divorce certificate down on his coffee table: I’m leaving. I don’t want any of you.

I was only two months pregnant when Alpha Neil ordered me to donate blood to his childhood sweetheart, the Omega Fawn.
“Kay, just a small extraction. Our pup… isn’t as fragile as you think.”

But the truth was, before my little wolf pup could even bask in the moonlight once, it had already faded into a silent sigh.

“Can’t you let her be? Fawn is as innocent as a pup—she needs protection. Besides…” His palm rubbed gently, “we’ll soon have our own pup. Once I’ve taken care of Fawn, I’ll give you the grandest pack ceremony—under the full moon, I’ll declare to everyone that you are my one Luna. Don’t sulk, okay?”

“Oh? So the mighty Alpha still remembers I was carrying your pup?”

What he didn’t know was that our little one was already gone.

When Alpha Neil saw the “Mate Bond Dissolution Agreement” bearing his own signature, he was stunned—unaware that he had signed it carelessly while tending to Fawn.

I placed the removed ring, the signed dissolution agreement, and the cold certificate

Alpha Leo’s voice was ice. “If you don’t save Samuel today, I’ll make sure Nina is buried with him.”
His ruthless words crashed over me like freezing water. But… if I save him, you’ll die… The rest of my plea never left my lips.
His lover, Sandra, collapsed in tears when Samuel died because of me, and Leo looked at me as if he wanted to tear me apart.
In the end, I chose not to save Samuel. He never knew Samuel was her secret lover. When she died, Leo nailed my little girl alive inside a coffin and offered her to the dark river as a sacrifice.
But fate gave me another chance. This time, I will never be chained by love again. My only obsession is to protect my daughter—and myself.

For seven years, I was the Luna who stood by my Alpha. Until the night I discovered he had bonded with another.
On a full moon, I slipped into the Silver Moon Pack’s camp, hoping to surprise my beloved Ethan. Instead, I stumbled upon his bonding ceremony with Beta Olivia.
Hidden in the shadows, I heard his voice: “If I don’t marry her, she’ll be forced to the old Alpha. I want to protect her. As for my fated mate—she’s been with me seven years. She won’t ever leave.”
So that’s all I was to him. Not love—just a habit.
After that, he missed promise after promise. Even the dagger he once swore on for me was carved with Olivia’s name.
That night I let go. I agreed to become the Frost Moon Pack’s Luna, to bond with Lucas.
When the ceremony began, Ethan stormed in, bloodied and desperate, begging me not to leave him. But I only said, “Your love never reached me. I am already Lucas’s Luna.”

The day I died, my sister wore the wedding dress I had always dreamed of, and married my boyfriend.
My family felt no sorrow over my disappearance.
My brother suspected I deliberately avoided blessing my sister.
My silent father believed I was malicious, unwilling to see my sister surpass me.
My mother called me ungrateful and demanded I apologize to my sister.
They didn't care if I was alive.
They were only worried that my absence would sadden my sister by denying her my blessing.

My brother chose my enemy, and the man I loved joined forces with her to sell me into a club.
Pregnancy, miscarriage, imprisonment, beatings—every cry for help I made was dismissed as "just an act."
It wasn't until I was truly dead that they lost their minds, dropping to their knees at my grave and sobbing that they were sorry.
But by then, I could no longer hear them.

Sophia finds out that her fiancé Alpha Carl and her sister Susan are mates a month before her wedding with her fiancé. Because mate relationship is rare, Carl dumps Sophia without hesitation and Sophia can only watch Carl marry Susan.
Sophia is heartbroken and comes to the lake, but unexpectedly meets her mate Aaron, they have a hot night, Sophia is disgusted with mate relationship, so she rejects Aaron.
But the next day she is taken to the palace.
What? The mate she rejected was actually King Aaron.
She doesn't know that King Aaron has loved her for a long time, what will happen to them?

In my past life, I died in a freezing, damp basement.
The person who destroyed me was Evelina, the daughter of my father’s mistress. She set a trap at a charity gala, dragged my reputation through the mud, and forced me into a hellish marriage—all so she could strip away everything that rightfully belonged to me.
When I opened my eyes again, I was twenty-two. The gala that sealed my fate was happening tonight.
Before the banquet officially began, I seamlessly swapped two champagne flutes, handing her meticulously woven trap right back to her. When the scandal detonated, sending shockwaves through the ballroom, my eyes landed on Killian—the Vance family's notoriously cold-blooded illegitimate son.
The trust fund my mother left me was still firmly under my control. I walked straight up to him and laid my chips on the table.
My enemies had retreated to the shadows, waiting to strike back. But I was going to use their own conspiracies as stepping stones, clawing back everything I owned, one piece at a time.

"You're mine, June."
"I'm not yours, Mr. Macaulay."
"Not yet," he says, his voice low with certainty. "But one day, you'll understand what you mean to me."
"I belong to myself," I reply, refusing to become another woman controlled by a powerful man.
June Fontaine spent three years loving a man who never truly chose her. She gave him everything, only to live in the shadow of his ex and a love that slowly destroyed her.
Until one unforgettable night changed everything.
Heartbroken after seeing her past move on without regret, June made a reckless decision and spent one night with a mysterious stranger. She left before morning, believing they would never meet again.
Two weeks later, she walked into her new workplace and froze.
The stranger from that night was her new boss.
Adrian Macaulay was a billionaire CEO, a man who always got what he wanted. And now, he wanted her.
But June refuses to be a secret hidden behind his success. She wants to be valued, not possessed. She wants a love where she is chosen, not controlled.
Adrian never expected one night to change his life forever. Now, he must prove that she is not just the woman from one unforgettable night.
She is the only woman he can never let go.

EJ Hollen and Zenia Blackman were friends before deciding on having things get more serious between them. All EJ wanted was to be loved for who he is but Zenia was bended on true love doesn't exist and was more keen on living in the moment. She was also harboring a dark secret from EJ and when he found out, all things fell apart, including their relationship.
Would they ever love each other again?

Emily Hollen and Sebastian were high school sweethearts but a lie created by a vicious ex-girlfriend drove a wedge between the couple causing an end to their relationship.
It's now years later and they're adults. Emily is a hotelier with a passion for traveling and establishing hotels around the world. Her next destination took her to a country she wasn't familiar with and it was governed by a monarchy. What a surprise it was for Emily when she learnt the soon-to-be-king was Sebastian and he was looking for a bride to rule at his side.

In my past life, when the apocalypse broke out, I braved the pressure and opened the fortress gates to take in my mother-in-law and brother-in-law, who had nowhere else to go.
They shoved my wife and me straight into a horde of zombies.
My wife and I were reborn seven days before the apocalypse. I turned my head and saw the same fear and coldness surging in her eyes as mine:
"This time, don't open the door."
"Never." I smiled coldly.
Not only would I keep the door shut—I would watch with my own eyes as those bloodsucking ingrates, who had drained me dry in my past life, were slowly devoured by hunger and despair right outside the gate.

I was reborn, back to the moment before I was dragged to death by motorcycles in the wasteland.

In my previous life, I listened to the moral blackmail of the saintly female lead Daisy and used my abilities to desperately save a motorcycle gang surrounded by zombies.

As a result, I was severely injured from ability overexertion, and these ungrateful wolves used me as a tool to establish dominance, dragging me to death with motorcycles across the wasteland.

Before I died, Daisy was still there crying: "We tried our best, this isn't our fault."

Now that I have a second chance, she stands before me again shouting:

"Cole! What are you standing there for? Go save them! Those people are going to die! You have abilities, you must save them!"

Looking at her hypocritical saintly face, rage burned in my chest.

Why should my abilities save ungrateful wolves? Why should my life be a stepping stone for others?

The kindness of fools is worthless!

So I threw her out to feed the zombies!

On the execution platform, my noble and beautiful wife used her dagger to carve open my chest.
My nominal adopted son pressed a red-hot iron into my skin, branding me with the "F"-class mark of the lowest outcast, draining my transcendent bloodline dry.
"The Storm Kingdom has no use for a cripple with zero beast-spirit affinity. You belong rotting in the abyss!"
They cut the chains and kicked me into the Black Abyss—a place from which no one returns—then turned to carve up my throne.
They thought I was as good as dead.
They had no idea that the deepest darkness of that abyss harbored the most terrifying ancient demon in existence.
Two weeks later, as they raised their glasses to toast the new king's coronation, I kicked down the castle gates, wielding the ember-fire of annihilation and a tide of ten thousand beasts.
Looking down at the woman who once stood so high above me, now groveling in the mud and begging for mercy, I tossed the bloodstained broken blade onto the hem of her dress:
"Remember this forever—it was you who took a nobody you crushed beneath your feet and turned him into a king you'll kneel before and never win back. Now, hand over your lives."

In my life as a waitress, I, Sephie - an ordinary person - endured the icy glares and insults of customers while trying to earn a living. I believed that this would be my fate forever.

However, one fateful day, the King of the Underworld appeared before me and rescued me from the clutches of the most powerful Mafia boss's son. With his deep blue eyes fixed on mine, he spoke softly: "Sephie... short for Persephone... Queen of the Underworld. At last, I have found you." Confused by his words, I stammered out a question, “P..pardon? What does that mean?”

But he simply smiled at me and brushed my hair away from my face with gentle fingers: "You are safe now.”


Sephie, named for the Queen of the Underworld, Persephone, she's quickly finding out how she's destined to fulfill her namesake's role. Adrik is the King of the Underworld, the boss of all bosses in the city he runs.

She was a seemingly normal girl, with a normal job until it all changed one night when he walked through the front door and her life changed abruptly. Now, she finds herself on the wrong side of powerful men, but under the protection of the most powerful among them.

Emma Anderson has everything in her life worked out. She has her perfect job in a Manhattan empire allowing her to live a quiet and organised safe existence. A necessity to her, after a childhood filled with bad memories, abuse, and a mother who was less than useless. But, with it comes a problem, one that could derail everything she thought she needed in her life. Her promotion sends her straight into the close employment of young, gorgeous, playboy billionaire, Jacob Carrero with his formidable reputation for being a player. Stuck as his right-hand man, every waking moment of every single day, she realises he is exactly the type of person who could drive her crazy, and not in a good way. Like chalk and cheese, he is everything she’s not. Compulsive, confident, laid back, dominant and fun, with a seriously laid back attitude to casual sex and dating. Jake is the only one with an ability to steamroll over her manicured ice maiden exterior, who is not phased by the closed in demeanour and cool manners, but as much as she wants to, letting him in is another thing entirely. A past that made her man wary and no desire to ever let one close enough to hurt her again, Jacob Carrero has his work cut out. He is not someone who takes NO for an answer and will have to learn how to break through if he wants more than the mask she shows the world. Jake needs to show her that even some one like him can change when that one girl that matters breaks through. Love-able sexy characters and deep emotional topics. Contains some mature, adult content and language.

Anaiah Ross was abused and mistreated by members of her pack after she killed someone on her first shift, and her alpha mate, Amos, rejected and threw her in the dungeon making her heart shatter to pieces, she later accepts his rejection and on her eighteenth birthday, she finds a second chance mate who is non other than a powerful dangerous lycan king but Amos realises that he can't let Anaiah go.
With two men fighting for her, everything gets complicated and evil plots are revealed and Anaiah discovers her true power that will change the course of her life, and make her a target.
Will Anaiah survive the evil schemes and finds happiness with the man she chooses? Or will she drown in darkness with no way back?
Watch her rise higher!

"I won't kiss you." His voice was cold.
Right, it's just a business deal...
But his touches were warm and...tempting
"A virgin?" he suddenly stared at me...


Emma Wells, a college girl who's about to graduate. She was abused and tortured by her stepmother Jane and stepsister Anna. The only hope in her life was her prince-like boyfriend Matthew David, who promised to make her the happiest woman around the world.
However, her world was completely crashed down when her stepmother took $50000 as the betrothal gift from an old man and agreed to marry her off. Even worse, she found her dear boyfriend cheated with her roommate Vivian Stone.
Walking on the street under the pouring rain, she was desperate and hopeless...
Clenching her fists, she decided. If she was doomed to be sold out, then she'll be her own seller.
Rushed into the street and stopping in front of a luxurious car, she just wondered how much her virginity would worth...