8753 Book(s) Related to the story of the bible

I died once. Madison shoved me into a zombie horde and watched them tear me apart.

She was crying, saying, "You have a duty to save everyone," and then she ran.

Now I'm back. Twenty-eight hours until the virus leaks.

She's still sitting in the front row, smiling at me: "Ethan, you're such a good person."

This time around, I decide who saves who.

This life, I'm only the Grim Reaper.

I was reborn on the eve of the arranged marriage, and the first thing Liana and I did was swap our marriage contracts.
In my past life, gentle Liana had married Kael, the cold and ruthless Alpha of the Wolf Clan.
But Kael always put the scheming daughter of his savior first, condemning my cousin to a lifetime of endless grievance and suffocating misery.
As for me, with my fiery temper, I’d been wed to a mediocre, weak Beta.
He spent every day complaining that I “wasn’t a woman at all”. Endless quarrels and the crushing burden of the family eventually led me to a tragic end—dying exhausted on the battlefield.
Now I opened my eyes again, staring at the fateful marriage contract on the nightstand. I clenched my fists and looked at my teary-eyed cousin.
“Tomorrow, you’ll marry that Beta. And as for that cold-blooded Alpha? I’ll take care of him.”

Seven years of marriage turned me into a joke.

My husband Christopher would drive across half of New York in a blizzard just to bring my sister Amanda a cup of mulled wine. My own son Ryan would point at my face and scream, "Aunt Amanda is a hundred times prettier than you! She should be my mom!"

In this house, the three of them were family. I was just the unpaid help.

I thought if I loved them enough, I could win their hearts. Until the day Ryan stomped on my architectural model—six months of work, my ticket back to the career I'd sacrificed. Christopher just shrugged. "Amanda wanted it as a toy for Ryan. Do you really have to make such a big deal out of it?"

Something inside me went quiet.

I signed the papers without a word. Left my ring on the table. Walked into the winter night and never looked back.

In my last life, I needed five million dollars to pay for my mother’s treatment. So I signed a three-year marriage contract with Everett and became the Mrs. Thorne everyone envied.

But throughout those three years, his heart belonged to Celeste, the woman he had never gotten over after she left for Europe.

She came back the day we buried my mother.

The day I was diagnosed with terminal cancer, Everett snapped at me over the phone for bothering him during surgery.

And when I took my last breath in a hospital bed, he was in France attending a conference with Celeste.

Until the moment I died, he never came to see me. Not even once.

Then I opened my eyes and found myself back on the day of my mother’s funeral.

Her body had barely been laid to rest, yet that evening, Everett raised his glass at a charity gala and announced that Celeste would become the new chief of neurosurgery at Thorne Medical Group. He looked at her with a tenderness he had never shown me, and the sight of it hurt.

The entire room applauded them.

No one remembered that I had buried my mother that very day.

I picked up a glass of red wine, walked straight over, and threw it in Everett’s face.

“A bitch and a bastard. What a perfect match. Hope it lasts forever.”

I pulled off my wedding ring and tossed it into the champagne tower. As glass shattered and cameras flashed around me, I turned and walked away.

Behind me, Everett said through clenched teeth, “Without the Thorne family, you’re nothing.”

He had no idea that I would never go back to him again.

Just as my business partner called to gloat, the loan shark's hitmen were frantically hacking at my security door.

"Arthur, I've been reborn too. I embezzled that ten million in company funds to build a doomsday bunker. Enjoy taking the knife for me!"

Listening to the voice through the receiver, I simply smashed the window and vaulted from the second floor, not wasting even half a second on his bullshit.

Building a private shelter with ten million in dirty money? He had absolutely no idea just how terrifying the monsters that would rip apart the earth's crust in thirty days truly were.

Dragging my bleeding arm, I charged into an underground internet cafe and forcibly hacked into the highest early warning system of the Overseas Defense Agency.

Half a year later, the Abyss descended. His proud bunker was crushed like papier-mâché during the very first beast tide. As he scrambled for his life through the mud like a pathetic bug, he looked up—only to see a national-level steel fortress stretching for thousands of kilometers across the horizon.

And there I was, clad in a black-and-gold Supreme Commander uniform, looking down at him from hundreds of meters above.

For a whole year, my husband's childhood friend treated my high-end boutique like her personal closet.

Bags that ran a few thousand dollars, couture gowns worth tens of thousands. She took whatever she wanted and walked out, never once saying the word "money."

The store bled cash month after month. When I finally hit my limit and told her to pay up, she slapped me across the face in front of a room full of customers.

"You should be flattered I even shop here. And you've got the nerve to ask me for money?"

Garrett came rushing in with his coffee, and the first thing out of his mouth wasn't whether I was okay. He pulled her behind him and told me to apologize, then said if I didn't, he'd divorce me.

I didn't cry, didn't make a scene. I picked the bill up off the floor, turned around, walked out, and made one phone call.

Three days later, Bianca comes back with five of her socialite friends, bragging that they're going to clean out every expensive piece in the place.

I hold my coffee and smile, tell them to take their time.

What she doesn't know is that three days ago, this store already changed hands.

"Who are you, really?" Lewis, the ruthless Mafia Godfather, cornered me in the elevator, his eyes filled with a twisted obsession as his fingers grazed the black butterfly tattoo on my collarbone.

He is completely addicted to my new face, my coldness, and my ruthless Wall Street tactics.

He is even willing to kick his beloved mistress out of the boardroom just to keep my attention.

If only he knew that beneath this flawless skin lies a map of scars—melted by the boiling soup he personally poured over my head.

If only he knew that I am his "dead" wife. The naive woman he threw into a sub-zero freezer to rot in agony, just to inherit his father's inheritance.

Instead of panicking, I grab his tie, pulling him close with a mocking smile. "I'm your worst nightmare, Lewis."

I survived the ice and thirty-five surgeries just to return from hell.

He thinks he is hunting a dangerous new prey, but I came back to strip him of his empire and his life.

Lunar Depletion Syndrome. Seven days.
That was my death countdown. And my Alpha mate Kael was still threatening me, demanding I use the last of my life force to save my sister.
On our third anniversary, he had given me a surgical consent form and dissolution papers as gifts.
How laughable.
Three years ago he had said my eyes sparkled like stars. Three years later he wanted me to close them forever.
They all said I had finally matured, learned the spirit of sacrifice expected of an older sister. The joke was, I hadn't been moved by love.
I was just tired.
Why struggle when death was inevitable?
Rather than dying alone in the wilderness, it was better to die on the operating table and become the perfect sacrifice in their story.

"Give Paige the tickets. I'll buy you a new bag tomorrow."

That was Caleb's first sentence to me on our five-year anniversary. His black Maybach idled at the curb. Paige stood closely behind him, wiping her tear-stained face. She had just climbed out of his passenger seat; I was just holding the two Nova VIP passes that took a miracle to score.

"She needs a distraction," Caleb added, fully expecting my usual quiet surrender.

I looked at them. No screaming. No tears. I just placed the tickets into his hand, turned on my heel, and left.

Let them enjoy the show. There was no space for me in that crowded arena, just like there was no space left for me in his world.

Everyone says he loved me more than anything. So I chose to answer that love with death.

Forbes cover stories, tearful speeches at charity galas, shutting down Fifth Avenue every Valentine's Day just to watch fireworks with me. They said he ruled a business empire but would kneel in front of the entire world and call me his reason to live.

I used to believe it.

Until I discovered my perfect husband had built another home with another woman. A warm one, filled with laughter and his child.

So I chose to disappear the night the storm swallowed everything.

They say he spent three days on his knees at the cliff's edge, screaming my name into the black ocean. The man worth billions couldn't even find his wife's body.

When the rescue team recovered that burned-out car, he finally opened the safe I'd left for him. Inside was a positive pregnancy test and a divorce agreement that would never be signed.

By then, nothing mattered anymore.

My name is Maya Wilson. I'm seventeen, I have 100K TikTok followers, and I just watched my dad destroy our family for a twenty-five-year-old homewrecker named Ashley.

"Ashley makes me feel alive again," he said, dismissing seventeen years of marriage like a bad business deal.

"We'll be one happy family," she smiled, standing in our kitchen like she already owned it.

That's when I knew: Mom needed my protection.

What followed was a war fought with laptops and lies, fake pregnancies and real heartbreak. A battle between a broken housewife discovering her strength, a teenage girl wielding digital weapons, and a woman who thought she could manipulate her way to victory.

Six months later, Mom would be accepting awards. Ashley would be gone. And Dad?

Dad would be begging for forgiveness he'd never get.

Kael ruined my life, drained my divine blood, and framed me for murder in my past life. Given a second chance, I reject his fake tenderness and tear down every lie he built. The almighty Dark Duke who once played with my life now craves only my mercy. He abandons his army, destroys his status, and begs for my punishment. I end his tyranny, chain him with my golden blood, and turn my worst tormentor into my most obedient hound.

My water broke in the middle of my family’s tiny clinic.
Thirty-six weeks pregnant, breech baby, emergency C-section. I only had one request: not City Center Hospital.
Because the man I had been hiding from for eight months worked in a hospital.
I told myself there were hundreds of doctors in the city. It would not be him.
Then the operating room door opened.
My ex-boyfriend walked in wearing scrubs, looked at my chart, looked at my belly, and went completely still.
He was not just the man I had left.
He was the anesthesiologist about to put a needle in my spine.
And when our daughter was born wearing his exact face, there was no hiding left.

I died watching my fiancé check another woman for scratches while three bullets tore through my chest.

I was his human shield. She was his true love.

Then, I blinked—and I was back. Reborn on the exact day I was supposed to sign our Mafia marriage pact.

Matteo slammed the sacred blood-oath on the desk. "Sign the damn paper, Serena. And stop being jealous of Anna. She’s fragile."

He wanted me to be his Donna. To run his casinos, bleach his dirty money, and take the bullets, while he played house with his sickly-sweet stepsister.

In my past life, I cried and signed my soul away.

This time? I smiled. I picked up the gold pen and signed the Bride line.

But I didn't write my name. I wrote Anna.

I tossed the contract at his chest, packed my bags, and walked out of the underworld forever.

Have a nice wedding, Matteo. Let's see how long your empire survives when your fragile little princess gets the throne.

Three days after I lost our pup, my mate finally reached out through the mind-link.

He sounded pleased with himself.

"Three days without a scene. Guess you finally figured out pack rules apply to you too. I'll have your Starfall token sent over. And quit making a war out of everything Brielle does."

I didn't answer right away. I was looking at the blood still dried on my thighs.

He must have thought I'd finally been put in my place. That I'd learned to keep my head down for him and his Beta.

Nobody would believe it. I was the Luna of Ashcrest, and I still had to beg Beta Brielle for permission to use the healing pools while I was pregnant. Callum had decided I couldn't handle pack business, so he handed every bit of mine to her.

Three days ago, my pup's heartbeat started slipping. I sent in another request for the pools.

Brielle sent it back. Incomplete paperwork.

I lost the baby.

I sent two words back through the link.

"Fine. Thanks."

He had no idea that was goodbye.

By midnight, I'd be gone for good.

In seven years of marriage, I miscarried five times. I nearly died on the operating table.

My husband, Lorenzo Castellano—the mafia king who controlled the entire East Coast—gripped my blood-stained hand and choked out: "It's okay. You're all I need."

I believed him.

Until our anniversary, when I smelled her perfume on his shirt and discovered the truth: his sister-in-law had given him a three-year-old son—those same deep brown eyes I'd bled five times trying to create.

The cruel irony? Just the day before, two pink lines had appeared on a pregnancy test.

That night, the explosion lit up the entire ocean, our private yacht burning like a funeral pyre.

The man who made all of New York's underworld tremble finally learned what it meant to lose.

He lost his wife.

And the child he would never know existed.

I’ve been guarding a door in the Nevada underground for a hundred years. The system marks this place "Abandoned," and the official records claim I don't exist.
When the investigation team arrived, the leader was my old signal corpsman. He pretended not to know me and ordered his guards to drag me out like a piece of dead weight.
They shoved a young lad from the Rex family into the breach as bait, and while everyone screamed in horror, no one dared to move.
So, I jumped down to fish the kid out, using a bottle of beer to force back the tentacles reaching from the dark.
Then, I pulled on that dusty old uniform and pressed my palm against the master console—all thirty-two security protocols verified instantly.
The lead technician collapsed in shock: "This clearance level is restricted to the Chief Architect only."
He was right. I am.
The thing I’ve kept locked behind that door for a century woke up, whispering: "What do you want?"
I said: "Dinner."

I drank myself into a stomach perforation, all to secure investment for Mu Jingshen's company.

As I was wheeled into the emergency room, blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. I heard a doctor shouting: "Where's the next of kin? We need a signature for surgery, now!"

My hands shaking violently, I dialed Mu Jingshen's number.
His contact was saved under "A Hubby", pinned to the very top of my contact list, just so I'd never miss a single call from him.

The call connected, and I forced out every last bit of my strength to speak, my voice weak and trembling:
"Jingshen, I need emergency surgery. Can you come sign the consent forms for me, please..."

But it wasn't his voice that came through the line. It was Shen Wanrong's, sweet and cloying: "Jiejie, Jingshen's busy giving Huanhuan a bath right now."

The sound of running water stopped.
I heard him ask who was on the phone.

Shen Wanrong spoke in a hurt, plaintive whine: "It's Jiejie... Jingshen, do you want to take the call? What if it's an emergency?"

But he just said, his voice flat and dismissive: "Ignore her. Nothing could ever be more important than being here for Huanhuan's birthday."

Huanhuan was Shen Wanrong's pet dog.

On our one-year anniversary, my husband Julian gifted me an antique ring.
Putting it on cost me everything.
I miscarried, grew paralyzed, and rapidly withered into a husk. And Julian? He convinced everyone that the trauma had simply driven a grieving mother insane.
Eventually, even I believed him.
It wasn’t until the moment of my murder that the truth finally clicked.
The ring wasn't a blessing; it was a parasitic siphon.
Then, I opened my eyes—
I was back at the anniversary dinner.

or fifteen years, I loved Nolan Mercer from a distance. He was golden, decent, and way out of my league. I was the tycoon’s unwanted fifth kid who learned early to take what she wanted.

Then a glowing romance system popped up and told me I was his destined love interest. So I stopped being nice.

I trapped him into marriage. I dragged him into bed every chance I got. He told me he hated me every day, and I didn’t care. Fate said he was mine.

Six shameless months later, the system came back screaming: [ERROR! You’re not the heroine. You’re a side character. Leave the male lead immediately.]

Fine. I handed my cold, miserable husband the divorce papers and wished him luck with his real love.

There was just one problem.

The man who swore he’d do anything to get rid of me suddenly won’t sign. He’s “forgetting” cuff links under my pillow, drinking himself stupid at galas, and cornering me in stairwells to beg me not to leave.

Turns out the system got a lot more wrong than just me.

Three years ago, my best friend Juliana Pierce was raped and jumped from a twelve-story building. I was there. I saw everything. I know exactly who did it.

Alexander Knight—Juliana's boyfriend, brilliant scientist, the man I've secretly loved for seven years—has spent every moment since hunting for answers. He believes I'm shielding a predator. He's dedicated his life to making mine hell.

Now I'm dying of ALS, and Alexander's dragged my broken body onto his "Memory Judgment Stage" for the world to see. His new technology can rip memories straight from my brain and broadcast them as holograms.

"Tell them who killed Juliana," he shouted.

I refuse. So he cranks up the machine, letting the neural probes tear through my dying brain. My hand shatters. My body convulses. But I won't break.

Until the memories start bleeding out anyway.

And when Alexander sees the rapist's face—Completely loses his mind.

When the armored car had room for only one passenger, Damian Russo chose me.

I was saved, but Lilia Brown didn't make it. She bled out in the crossfire, her body left in the rubble. Damian pretended he didn't care and married me as planned.

For three years, he made me pay for her death—beating me, starving me, blaming me for the fact that she was gone.

In the end, he drove us both off a cliff instead.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the docks on the night of the ambush. This time, I stepped aside and let him save the woman he truly loved.

My serpent mate has locked me in the castle, nine months pregnant. A dozen serpent guards watch me day and night. I can't even leave the room.

A month ago, his brother died in a hunting accident. He became the serpent clan leader. Then he brought back his brother's widow, the woman he grew up with. His first love.

He said he needed to take care of his brother's widow. He told me we'd all live together in the castle, nice and peaceful.

I said no.

I'm his mate. I'm a beastman. My pride won't let me accept that. And they grew up together, childhood sweethearts. How could I not think about it?

She came to him in tears, heavily pregnant. She said I poisoned her medicine, that I wanted to kill her and the baby.

He believed her.

He decided I was just some rogue beastman with no background, jealous and vicious, only after his title and money. So he locked me in this freezing castle while he camped outside her delivery room.

When labor hit, I screamed for a healer. I swore I never hurt her. I just couldn't live with her under the same roof. I only ever loved him.

He just laughed. "You're good at acting. I don't believe a word out of you. Once she delivers safely, I'll deal with you. Don't think you can trick me into coming back."

But when a trembling guard reported "Your mate and the child... they didn't make it," he lost it completely.

The Solarien family had two daughters.
Aurelia, the younger, was their pride and joy, soon to marry Duke Lysander beneath a reputation she had never earned: the so-called genius enchantress.
I, Vespera, was nothing more than the family's hidden workhorse, locked in a basement and valued only for what I could produce.
For years, I churned out enchanted gear to fund their lavish life while they used me as a stepping stone for Aurelia without a trace of guilt.
I let them bleed me dry, clinging to the faint hope that they might someday treat me like family.
Then, on the eve of my wedding, my parents stole the gown I had spent three years pouring my blood and sweat into, all so Aurelia could make a grand impression.
They threatened my fiancé's life and forced me to cut my wrist, using my blood to reverse the runes and attune the enchantment to her instead of me—even though the backlash could cripple my magic for life.
The moment I watched my blood soak into that gown, I gave up on my family for good.
For all the family pride they fought so desperately to protect, there had never been room for me.

The housekeeper’s daughter just locked me out of my own Bentley.

"Bob, drive," Ella Brooks—the school's untouchable Queen Bee—ordered my chauffeur. She leaned into her boyfriend, Ryan Harrington, shooting me a look of fake pity. "My family already pays her tuition. Charity cases don't get free rides."

A bunch of kids nearby laughed, always eager to kiss up to the fake heiress. Ryan glared at me like I was actual trash. "Maya, if someone puts a roof over your head, show some respect. Know your place."

The tinted windows rolled up. Tires squealed, leaving me choking on exhaust.

I stood on the curb, watching my car speed off. She had hijacked my entire life to play school royalty and snag a wealthy guy, convincing everyone I was the freeloader.

I was so pissed I actually laughed. She mistook my low profile for weakness.

She wanted to play the billionaire's daughter? Fine. Playtime is officially over.

Only after I lost the promotion did I find out that my broke boyfriend secretly owned the company I worked for.

He'd voted against me.

One of his friends asked him, “Aren't you worried Nora Bennett will find out you've been lying to her and raise hell?”

Blake Whitmore gave a casual laugh.

“Why would I be? It doesn't take much to make her happy again.”

“Chloe's different. She's been a princess her whole life. When she wants something, she has to have it. I can't stand seeing her upset.”

“It's just a director's job. If she wants it, I'll let her have her fun.”

Chloe Sinclair.

The woman they'd brought in from outside to take the position I'd worked for.

Something I'd fought so hard to earn was just a toy she could have for the asking.

I blinked back the sting in my eyes, looked down at my phone, and answered the recruiter.

“Hi. I'd like to accept the offer in Pittsburgh.”

"They said I was just a piece of trash, only fit to be a substitute bride for the lunatic Abyssal Dragon Duke." I smirked, twisting the bone bracelet that sealed my venomous power. My fake sister wept pitifully, "Visenya, at worst, I'll bear the Duke's wrath myself." Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea. When the bloodthirsty Duke finally cornered me, he didn't tear me apart. Instead, he kissed my fingertips and chuckled. "So, my little bride, shall we slaughter the Emperor and take the throne for fun?" "Deal," I smiled. "But if you drag me down, I'll kill you too."

On Halloween night, a sharp stench of chlorine and cheap booze woke me up.
I opened my eyes to a man grinning at the bedroom door.
It was my husband, David, soaking wet and showing off the liquor he’d vanished hours ago to buy.
I cursed him out, called him a liar, and demanded a divorce. He just kept that idiotic smile.
Then my phone rang. It was his best friend, Mark.
"Claire, David drowned drunk in the pool!"

Halfway through the family's celebration dinner, the big screen started looping a video nobody was meant to see.

A man and a woman half undressed on the bed. She kept her face turned from the camera.

He didn't — it was Kai Voss, the Don's most trusted capo, caught clean on film.

The ballroom went silent. At the head table, the Don's face turned to stone.

Her face stayed turned away the whole time. It didn't matter. The jaw, the hair, the way she moved — it was Liora Marrick. The Don's wife.

My sister.

A capo who touches his boss's wife doesn't lose his rank. He gets taken downstairs and never comes back.

Kai's eyes locked onto mine, begging and threatening at once.

I'd given him what he wanted once before. I'd stood up in this room and said the woman was me — because I loved him, and because Liora and I shared seven parts of the same face.

That lie bought me a wedding, a cellar, and a back-room table where Kai's rush to heal my sister cost me the ability to ever have children.

I died screaming.

Now I was back, and the screen was still looping.

Then I lifted a hand to my mouth.

"Oh. That woman in the video. Doesn't she look a lot like Liora?"

Five years ago, my family burned to death in an "accident."

My loving husband Clifford signed the papers himself—shipped me off to a mental institution without a second thought.

Inside, Becky carved up my face with shattered glass. The same orphan I'd put through school. Then she rebuilt herself to match my features and stole my life—my husband, my son, everything.

Now she marched into the clinic where I scrub floors, dragging my biological child behind her, demanding I apologize to him like some servant.

She has no idea what kind of monster she created.

I’ve had a lot of things stolen from me by my stepsister, Paloma Thorne.
My father, my boyfriend, my baby, my thesis, my future...
When I was twenty-two, I walked into the university lab and caught Paloma and my boyfriend, Milo, tangled naked together. I miscarried on the spot. Later, as I lay in the hospital bed, Paloma used a secretly recorded sex tape of Milo and me as blackmail, sealing off my last possible way out. I didn't scream or cry. I just signed the papers, grabbed my suitcase, and left.
In Calder City, I met the mafia don, Darius Harlow. He was calm, dominant, and gave me a sense of security so overwhelming it was almost suffocating. So, I married him.
It wasn't until four years later, when I returned to Ellsworth for Paloma's wedding, that the illusion shattered.
The night before the wedding, standing outside a closed door, I heard her voice.
"Darius, I was the one who let go seven years ago. Let me make it up to you tonight. Please?"
The next second, I heard my husband's heavy breathing.
Only then did I realize that for the past four years, I was nothing but Paloma's stand-in.

I'm a forensic audio specialist. I make a living digging up the truths people deliberately erase from static and noise.
My 19-year-old brother was accused of pushing a billionaire's bride to her death at her wedding.
The police presented their "smoking gun" recording. I heard exactly twelve seconds missing from it.
Those twelve seconds hold the truth about how the bride really died—and the billionaire family's dark secret that will get both me and my brother killed.
They smashed my equipment, threatened my life, bribed the cops, and tried to bury the truth forever.
But what they don't know is—
Some voices refuse to stay silent. Even when they're cut out.

The first time Tyler laid eyes on Ellie, he thought she was a quiet, shy, introverted girl.

Then she opened her mouth and shattered that illusion.

“Are you trying to sleep with me? Why are you staring at me?”

After a night of passion, she woke up and calmly eyed his abs like she was appraising merchandise.

“Here’s your tip. Thank you for your work last night!” she smirked, a dollar bill tucked between her fingers.

Does she think I am a gigolo? Tyler sneered.

Then one day, a message from Ellie lit up his phone:

[I’m getting engaged. Are you going to take me away? Gigolo?]

He scrambled to his feet, rushing to the engagement ceremony.

This time, no one could stop him from taking her.

Kade was my mate, my love, my future.

Until he rejected me in front of the entire pack—choosing another she-wolf over me.

Heartbroken and pregnant with his pup, I left, vowing never to look back.

Five years later, fate dragged me home. This time, I wasn’t the weak omega he cast aside.

But when Kade saw me again—saw our son—his golden eyes darkened.

“Mira, I—”

I met his gaze, my voice cold as ice. "Excuse me, Alpha. I have nothing to do with you.”

I chased after my first love, Joe, for years and finally worked up the courage to confess—only to overhear him plotting to get me drunk as a plaything.
Just when I was in utter despair, his mafia brother, David, showed up and saved me from deep sorrow. He treated me gently like I was made of glass, gifted me a private estate, got down on one knee and proposed, saying he'd had a crush on me for years.
I thought I'd finally escaped hell and found my one true love—until his “lover” Ann came back with a boy who looked exactly like him and stole every bit of his attention.
David swore Ann was just my stand-in, but he kept leaving me for her again and again, even throwing himself in front of bullets for her in a shootout, saying, “For you, I can risk my life.”

She thought she was happily married - until she was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer.
Then came the truth: her "devoted" husband Lucien had been poisoning her for years, all to avenge a dead lover.
On her deathbed, Calliope made a vow:
If life gave her one more chance, she'd rewrite every ending-starting with his.
Now reborn seven years earlier, she tears off the wedding dress and walks away from Lucien's lies.
To protect her family and reclaim her stolen legacy, Calliope proposes a marriage of convenience to Conrad: a cold, enigmatic firefighter with more power-and more secrets-than anyone realizes.
But Lucien is also reborn. And just as cruel.
But this time, she's not the naïve bride.
She's a tech genius. A business queen. A woman with nothing to lose.
And Conrad?
He's not just fire and steel-he's the weapon she never knew she needed.
They're not here to survive.
They're here to win.

Eighteen years ago, a friendship among three young people — Princess Sabrina, Guilherme, and Diego — fell apart under the weight of passion and betrayal. Sabrina and Guilherme's love ignited an irreconcilable hatred in Diego, leading to an unexpected pregnancy with twins, separated at birth by a dark secret.

Now, Mayara, an orphaned young woman with jade green eyes and long black hair with reddish highlights, receives a mysterious letter promising to reveal her true identity. Her search takes her to Mexico, where family secrets, political disputes, and the underworld of the mafia intertwine.

Among the dangerous charm of Santiago Diaz — the ruthless heir with honey-colored eyes who publicly declares his love for her — and the possessive protection of Prince Arthur — blond with violet-gray eyes, who returns furious to win her back — Mayara finds herself caught in an intense, deadly love triangle.

While Santiago offers a treasure hunt that could change destinies, and Arthur, dressed in a black leather jacket over his Harley Davidson, is determined to face any enemy, Mayara struggles to find clues that could save her life and decide her own heart.

In the end, one thing is certain: in a game of love, revenge, and power, no one leaves unscathed.

Livia Life has always been a waking nightmare, shackled in the shadows of her own home and blamed for a crime she never committed the death of her mother. For seventeen years, she lived as a prisoner, surviving off scraps and abuse, until the night of her eighteenth birthday changed everything. In a shocking twist of fate, a powerful alpha prince named Leonardo arrives, revealing that she is the long-lost daughter of the Alpha King and, more importantly, his destined mate.

Swept into a royal world she never imagined, Livia is forced to navigate the complexities of love, revenge, and rediscovering her true self. As passion sparks between them, old enemies rise, secrets unfold, and the trauma of her past claws its way into her present.

Leonardo’s love offers a sanctuary, but also comes with dangerous expectations, political threats, and the haunting fear of losing everything all over again. Torn between a brutal past and an uncertain future ,Livia must find the strength to choose who she wants to become. Can an abused soul truly find healing in the arms of an alpha prince, or is love alone not enough to rewrite a fate forged in pain?

Ignite Your Darkest Desires
Do NOT open unless you're ready to BURN
Do NOT read unless you crave the HOTNESS.
A filthy, pulse-pounding collection of taboo erotica crafted exclusively for 18+ sinners who live for the forbidden rush.
Inside, you'll devour:
Stepfather-stepdaughter secrets: that drip with guilt-soaked lust, his rough hands claiming what he shouldn't, her tight, trembling body arching under him in the dark.
Exhibitionist thrills: strangers' eyes devouring every exposed inch as she's fucked against fogged glass, her cries muffled by his palm.
Voyeuristic obsessions: hidden cameras catching every slick slide, every gasp as step-siblings finally snap, bodies colliding in a frenzy of sweat and sin.
Kinky one-shots that push every limit: cuffs biting wrists, blindfolds heightening every wet lick, every brutal thrust until you're begging for release.
Each story is a standalone inferno, different bodies, different taboos, same blistering heat. Feel the throb between your thighs, the slick ache building, the shudder when they finally give in.
Lock the door. Let the flames consume you. You've been warned.

In her first life, Ivy was abandoned. Starved. Forgotten. When the Shaws finally threw her out like garbage, the only people who came for her were strangers with guns.

Now she’s reborn. She knows how the story ends. And she’s running toward the killers instead of away from them.

Dad’s a hitman with terrible aim and a lazier temper. Mom’s a chef who butchers people in the basement. Big Brother runs the Dark Web. Little Brother builds death traps for fun.

They’re the worst family in the city. And they’re exactly what she chose.

With her five-year-old eyes, every murder looks like cooking.

Every severed finger is a toy. Every bloodstain is just Mommy’s new perfume.

Ivy doesn’t see killers. She sees the only people who ever loved her.

One night. That’s all Detective Samantha Cross wanted.
One night to forget the rules.
One night to feel something other than pressure, guilt, and routine.
One night to do something reckless—just like her friends begged her to.
But the morning after brings more than regret.
She wakes up in a hotel room… and walks straight into the biggest case of her career:
The Governor’s daughter, murdered in the room next to hers.

And her number one suspect?
The same dangerously charming stranger she just slept with.
His name? Rowan Drake.
His profession? One of the country’s most elusive con artists.
His alibi? Her.
Samantha knows he didn’t do it. She was with him.
But if she admits that, she risks everything—her badge, her reputation, her career.
Now, trapped between duty and desire, she’s forced into an impossible alliance.
To clear his name, she’ll have to work side by side with the man who could ruin her.
And as the lies close in and the body count rises, one truth becomes dangerously clear:
The real killer is still out there…
And he’s watching them both.

Jazzie Zamora is a well-known model in the Philippines. She's rich, beautiful, elegant and has many other qualities that you will admire.
Everyone believes that she has a perfect life, but little did they know that it was the other way around.
Hellish; it's the exact word you can use to describe her life. Being a secret wife of a mafia boss was a dream that turned into a nightmare.
Despite of all those shits happening, will she still choose to stay?
How much can she put up for her ruthless husband?

Warning: This novel have matured contents.

Emma , a mute maid who have been serving Louise and his family along with her mother from her tender age got raped when she was 17 and treated badly by Louise. She moved out after louise got married and gave birth to two boys.

Moreover everything later turns upside down for Louise which made him to turn and start looking for Emma but it seems to be too late.

Will they unite again, what happened to Louise after Emma moved out of the house.

Find out as you read.

Born to lead but denied her rightful place, the daughter of a slain Alpha is betrayed in the most brutal way. Stripped of her title because she bears the spirit of a Luna instead of an Alpha, she’s forced to watch her lover rise as Alpha—only to publicly humiliate and reject her, accusing her of treason in front of the entire pack and a council of visiting Alphas.

When hope flickers in the form of a second chance mate—a feared Alpha known for his cold heart—her world is shattered yet again by another cruel rejection. The pain is too much; her wolf vanishes, her soul breaks, and her life hangs by a thread.

Just when the executioner raises his weapon, the unexpected happens. The ruthless Alpha who had turned his back returns with chilling words: “Let her live. Death is too kind. She will suffer.”

Months pass, and what was once discarded becomes the object of desire. Now, Alphas wage war for the broken Luna they once overlooked. With her wolf gone and heart frozen, can she ever heal? Will the Moon Goddess grant her strength again—or love?

Dive into this gripping tale of betrayal, pain, power, and redemption.

After spending 6 gruesome years in the world most feared prison, Elias Barton is released. But he is not just a regular human anymore.
He has acquired the magical skill of Eastern medicine.
On his release, he is betrayed by the people who promised to stand by him, and now, with his skill, he vows to rise to the top and male everyone of them pay.

I couldn't get my eyes off my window as I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Outside there in the darkness that was gradually going down due to the faint morning light, I continously stared at a thing no word in the English dictionary can explain.
*It was a black wolf with red eyes. So big that I could bet that it was two times bigger than Zane in his wolf form. But that wasn't the scary thing. The scary thing was that, it had a round substance on it's mouth. And since I know that I could see clearly in darkness, I activated my night gaze and discovered that it was the head of another wolf. Not just another wolf, but the kind of wolf Luca said I was... "A WHITE WOLF!"


The wolf world has been in a war for leadership, blood sheds so many that one could swim in it. A white wolf was born, his name is Lucian and he's destined to end the war between the two Wolf Delimitation.
Lucian goes through a lot of pain and betrayal, he lost the person that guided him through life to the cold hands of death. Will he survive the many temptations to end his life? Find out in this interesting story of Love, hate, betrayal and passion.

#Memories disappear but feelings don't#

What happens if her ex is her boss and she has no idea it's him?

Will feelings bring them back together?

Join the journey of life with Anna to see whether destiny will take her back to HIM.

Looking forward to hearing from you

Mich was 4 years old, when his father divorced his mother.
his father wanted to marry Ally's mother, and had a big fight with Mich's mother After running away from home, the 4-year-old Mich watched his mother commit suicide by jumping off the building.

But what would happen when 21 years later Mich met with Ally?

Is is gonna hate her for what his father did?

Ten years ago, Iron Throne, Mexico's largest drug cartel, slaughtered my entire family. A decade later, I defected voluntarily and stepped into their manor with a token of allegiance. Everyone thought I had fallen into depravity. What they never knew was that I came to Iron Throne neither for wealth nor power. I came because I had memorized five names from the hit list that destroyed my family, and kept them in my heart for ten long years. I chose to lie low, until I rose to become the second-in-command of Iron Throne. On the night the kingpin handed the entire criminal empire over to me, I walked into his study, raised my gun with a smile.

When I was eight, my older sister pointed a finger in my face and told me I'd been adopted out of foster care.

I went crying to our parents. With their arms around her, they nodded.

“Yes. Your real parents didn't want you.”

After that, I stopped competing with her for affection. I didn't dare ask for new clothes. I took over the housework and fought for the highest grades in my class, terrified that if I wasn't good enough, they'd get rid of me, too.

I lived that way for fifteen years.

Then, this October, I booked my trip home early so I could spend a few days with my family. I reached the door and heard my sister talking to our relatives in the living room.

“My sister's hilarious. We had a fight when we were kids, and I just made up this thing about her being adopted.”

“She believed it for years. She's been our perfectly obedient little maid ever since.”

A relative sounded startled. “And you never told her the truth?”

Mom laughed. “Why would we? She got so much easier after she believed it.”

“She does everything without being asked. Best joke we ever played.”

I stood outside the door, cold all over.

Fifteen years of watching every word, every move. All because of a joke.

I didn't burst in and scream for an explanation. I opened my phone and signed the contract for a five-year assignment in Northern Europe.

They liked their joke so much. Fine.

The outsider could disappear from their lives for good.