968 Book(s) Related to novela s.o.s me estoy enamorando

Betrayed, framed, and left for dead, Axel is thrust into a dangerous Magic Academy where survival means hiding his true nature. But nothing prepares him for Kai, the feared Alpha-Warlock who hates him yet is bound to him by fate.

In a world of lies, power, and forbidden bonds, their connection could save them or destroy everything.

Sara never asked for a mate, but fate didn’t care. The moment she steps into BloodRidge Pack, the bond locks her to the one man who wants nothing to do with her.
Alpha Xenon rejects her on sight. Cold. Final. Cruel.

But the bond doesn’t break.
His wolf won’t let her go.
And when danger comes for her, the Alpha who pushed her away becomes the one who can’t stay away.

Some rejections hurt.
This one changes everything.

Freya Ashford's biggest regret in life wasn't marrying me, but that she never truly looked at me. We were sleeping in the same bed but dreaming different dreams; she was researching immortality, and I was researching how to win her love—"It is an eternal power, and an eternal pain." This riddle led us down different paths. On the day of the prom, in front of the entire school, she pointed her finger at me and said, "You can't prove your love for me at all." But she didn't know that she would lose miserably.

The woman Evan Cole had never gotten over hit me with her car.

She called him, and he rushed to the hospital. When he saw me, he hesitated for a moment.

He stayed with her while I had my tests. Afterward, he asked, “How much did you have to pay?”

“A hundred and ten.”

A notification appeared on my phone a moment later.

Husband sent you $150.

I stared at the screen. We'd kept our marriage secret for three years, and even when I miscarried, he hadn't come to see me in the hospital. He'd hired someone to look after me and left a message.

I'm away on business for a week. Get some rest. Ask the aide if you need anything.

This was the first time he'd ever stayed with me for a medical appointment.

A nurse came over. “Your chart says you're married. Have your husband help you at home. With that leg, getting around is going to be difficult.”

I came back to myself and turned off my screen.

“That would be a little awkward. We're getting divorced.”

Before my flight to Chicago took off, I saved an old man from nearly passing out from the heat outside Miami Airport.
The moment he swallowed the water I handed him, he suddenly grabbed my wrist and clung to it with surprising strength.
"Listen to me. Whatever you do, do not get on that plane! There's going to be a Category 5 hurricane today!"
I froze for a second and looked up at the cloudless blue sky over Miami.
Assuming his Alzheimer's had flared up, I smiled and told him I'd already called an ambulance for him.
But his eyes suddenly widened, and all the color drained from his face.
"The storm is coming. Hundreds of planes will be ripped apart in seconds, torn into scraps of metal... Everyone will die..."
I thought he was raving and turned away, dragging my suitcase into the terminal.
Then, just before boarding, I went to the restroom with my suitcase.
When I came out, someone had tightly wrapped a discarded boarding pass around the handle of my silver carry-on.
On the back, in thick red marker, were the words:
[HURRICANE LANDFALL IN 30 MINUTES! DO NOT BOARD!]
A chill ran through me.
Boarding was about to close. If I missed this multimillion-dollar deal, I'd be out of a job tomorrow.
And at home, my four-year-old daughter was waiting for me to pay her expensive daycare bill.
Should I step onto that jet bridge or not?

Ten years into my assignment with the Unforgettable Love System, all my progress fell apart.

The original novel's heroine had been around for just three months.

The brooding boy I'd grown up with—the one I'd spent ten years winning over—put on a sunny, easygoing act for her and left me behind.

My fiancé's affection had only reached 80 percent after years of checking on him and taking care of him. One look at her, and he reset me to zero.

Even my own brother, who'd always treated me like the most precious person in his life, stopped being gentle and told me to grow up.

With my entire assignment about to go under, I decided on one last gamble.

There was a rule in novels: the woman nobody could forget always went abroad and stayed away for years.

Fine. Time to test the theory.

I packed that night and booked a flight out of the country.

BluePeak flew forty-seven employees to Miami for its company retreat.
I was the forty-eighth employee—and the only one not invited.
Then my team lead posted a photo of my empty seat with the caption:
Shame some people just aren’t team players.
So I turned off my phone and went to sleep.
Thirteen hours later, I woke to 164 missed calls and a text from my boss:
I screwed up. Please, for the love of God, call me.
Apparently, while I slept, the company discovered exactly how much of it depended on the employee they had left behind.

"I'm six weeks pregnant with Asher's baby," my husband's mistress texted me, attaching a photo of a torn condom wrapper on my husband’s desk.
"If he really loved you, what am I?"
I just called a secret number.
"Are you sure you want to activate the Ghost Protocol?" my brother asked over the encrypted line.
"Once done, your identity is erased. You will cease to exist."
"Do it," I replied coldly.
My billionaire husband thinks he can keep his perfect marriage and his wild mistress.
He has no idea that his gentle, low-profile wife is actually the most dangerous princess of the New York Mafia.
I gave him a 15-day countdown.
On the final day, he opened his "anniversary gift"—only to find his cheating evidence and a house completely emptied of my existence.
He tore the city apart looking for me, going insane.
But how do you find a woman who never legally existed?

I spent ten years following Ashton around like it was my job. He said jump, I jumped. He said he was hungry, I went and made him a sandwich. His homework, his fights, his messes — I handled all of it. I thought that's what being close to someone meant.
Then at the fall pep rally, in front of two thousand people, he strapped me to a platform, blasted me with paint, and let his girlfriend laugh at me through a megaphone.
I was the punchline. I threw up on camera. The video went viral before I even hit the ground.
So I did the one thing nobody expected — I vanished. New school, new city, new number. Every trace of him, gone.
I thought that was the end of it.
But Ashton doesn't let go of what he thinks is his. And what he's willing to do to drag me back? I wasn't even close to ready for that.

A computer glitch opened my boyfriend's group chat.
After a cheating story went viral, his friends had talked him into faking an affair to test how much I trusted him.
At the same time, they were sending their richest, best-looking friend to seduce me. They wanted to see how easily I'd take the bait.
My boyfriend couldn't get enough of his little cheating game.
So I pretended to fall for it.

In a modern city of flights, glass hotels, and surveillance footage, Nora—an artist still recovering from surgery—watches her marriage rot behind polished excuses. As she traces her husband’s affair through airport selfies, joint-account charges, voice recordings, and a staged fall on the stairs, humiliation hardens into precision. Cold, sharp, and deeply satisfying, this is a divorce reckoning lit by rain, evidence files, airport confrontations, and the moment a woman stops begging to be chosen.

I stayed in this city for Dorian, pushed my way into his company, and saved every penny for three years just so we could build a home together.
But an anonymous flash drive shoved a video of him cheating in our bed right into my face. The next day, a promotion announcement handed the position I’d bled for to the very woman who seduced him.
With my dignity crushed to dust, I had only one person left to rely on—my gentle, almost obsessively devoted stepbrother, Ambrose.
He promised to make those scumbags tear each other apart. He promised Dorian would crawl back to my feet like a dog.
He offered me a "secret recipe" with immediate results.
I expected a deeply satisfying revenge. I never imagined what that so-called recipe actually was...

They cropped me out of the graduation photo, and nobody even noticed.
For eighteen years, I was the quiet, easy daughter. My sister Brooke got my clothes, my room, and the center of every picture. Ethan, the boy next door who once watched me nearly die from a peanut allergy, handed me a peanut butter smoothie and called it my favorite.
When Brooke found my full-ride acceptance letter, she called it fake, tore it in half, and threw it in a dumpster with my passport. My family laughed.
So I climbed in, dug it out, and got on a plane.
Three months later, the whole town learned I was a national scholar. So did my family.
Now they want me back.
Too late.

A vicious-looking hit man, six foot three, was hunting me down.

I hid in a storage room at the mall.

With just a door between us, I suddenly heard what he was thinking.

[Damn it! Where did that rich girl in the white dress and the flat-brimmed hat go?]

[I need to finish this job. I've got a date with my girl!]

[Three whole years before she'd agree to meet me. I have to make this count. I have to make a good impression!]

[Nora. My Nora Blake. My baby. Hehehe.]

I froze.

Nora Blake... That was me.

My coworker, Sloane, had a knack for turning brutal physical contact into her way of greeting.

She branded this as "American warmth" and an "outgoing personality."

At first, for the sake of office harmony, I assumed she was just clumsy and gritted my teeth to endure it.

That was until the incident in the breakroom. I had finally mustered the courage to discuss a design proposal with Liam, an engineer I had been secretly crushing on.

Out of nowhere, Sloane threw me into a chokehold masked as a bear hug, simultaneously driving her knee hard into the back of my legs.

Caught completely off guard, I lost my balance and lunged forward directly into Liam, practically ripping the buttons right off his dress shirt as I fell.

Instead of helping me up, Sloane gasped:

"Oh my god, Maeve! Look, I know you told me yesterday you dreamt of ripping Liam's shirt open, but you don't have to be so desperate in the office!"

Liam looked mortified.

Burning with humiliation, I scrambled to my feet, "Could you please keep your hands to yourself?!"

She jumped back, shouting even louder than I had. "Oh, come on! I was just trying to help you break the ice! Don't take it out on me just because you ruined it."

Heads turned across the entire bullpen. She doubled down, playing the victim with absolute righteous indignation:

"We are all adults here. If you can't even take a joke, who's ever going to want to work with you?"

The day I woke from the coma, the man I'd loved for seven years handed me to someone else.
I could have exposed him with one sentence. I didn't.
Dorian and I had been together since college. His best friend Silas had never once pretended to like me.
But that day, Dorian stood at my bedside, pointed at Silas, and said, "He's your boyfriend."
And nobody in that room thought there was anything wrong with that.
I believed him. At least, I made it look that way.
That night, I moved into Silas's villa — and then I heard the phone call.

"You have two months to live." The doctor's death sentence was still ringing in my ears when I found the receipt in his pocket.

[Four Seasons Hotel. Romance Suite. Check-in: 3:00 PM.]

3:00 PM. The exact moment I was begging the doctor for painkillers, Alexander was in a hotel bed with another woman.

I looked at him, sleeping soundly beside me. I had loved this man for five years, sold everything to help him succeed. Now, in the final countdown of my life, he gave me the most fatal blow.

"I'm exhausted from meetings," he had lied, smelling of Santal 33 and another woman's sex.

I clenched the receipt until my nails dug into my flesh. I wouldn't tell him about the cancer.

I would use whatever time I had left to make him regret ever being born.

During the senior executive meeting, an intern slapped a 15-yuan McDonald's receipt right in my face.
"Vice President Xu has been embezzling company funds for personal meals! A parasite like her, who’s been fleecing the company, must be fired!"
My boyfriend of eight years looked at me with a feigned, agonized expression. "This incident has caused an abysmally bad impact. You will be suspended pending an internal investigation."
I stared at his hand wrapped around the intern's waist, then calmly removed my employee ID badge.
I turned to my assistant and ordered, "Freeze the five million yuan in the company's account. That's just the pocket money I casually deposited there last week."

I spent five years loving Beckett Calloway.
When his ex-girlfriend died saving his life, I held him through every nightmare. When he said he "wasn't ready" for marriage, I waited. When he whispered "soon," I believed him.
Then her sister showed up. Crying about some terminal illness. Begging him to take care of her.
He let her move onto our private island—the one he promised would only ever belong to us.
He introduced her at the gala where he was supposed to announce our engagement.
He got her pregnant.
And when I told him she was lying about everything, he looked at me like I was the monster.
Then came our wedding rehearsal. She walked down the aisle in my dress. He slid his ring onto her finger. The chapel caught fire. I collapsed, bleeding.
He scooped her up and ran. Didn't even glance back.
So I burned my vows, deleted every trace of myself, and vanished.
This time, I wasn't coming back.

On a full moon, every wolf has to be inside a registered shelter before moonrise. That's pack law.
So when my husband's leave finally lined up with a moon, I spent six months and eighty thousand dollars booking his whole family into a top-tier sanctuary on Silverspine Ridge. Then his first love decided she wanted to come.
Instead of telling her no, he gave her my registered bed — and sent me a queue number for the state shelter, a thirty-six-hour line for a bunk in an open ward full of rogues. I looked at his parents, his sister, waiting for one of them to object. Every single one of them took his side.
So fine. I drove the other way, and spent the next three full moons enjoying myself — alone. That's when the whole family started to panic...

A hundred years ago, that curse was meant for him. I'm the one who threw myself in front of it.
It cost me my elven heart, shattered on the spot—and a name I could never wash off. Traitor.
I never argued. Because the moment I speak the truth, the curse goes straight back to him.
So I stayed. I became his blood servant and let him drain me, one bottle at a time, to feed the woman he'd waited a century for. I told myself that if I endured long enough, someday he'd see my heart for what it was.
Then the healer told me my heart had thirty days left.
And he walked in, knife in hand, to say his beloved needed more of my blood.
This time, I'm not enduring anything.
I'm going to give him back this heart—at the exact moment he's most sure he's won.

My mom runs a laundromat, and that afternoon she had to step out for something urgent.
Before leaving, she made sure to remind me: don't forget to finish the load in machine number seven.
I found the old clunker tucked away in the back room and bent down to reach inside the drum, trying to straighten out the tangled clothes.
That's when my upper body suddenly wedged itself in tight—I couldn't pull back out no matter how hard I tried.
I was stuck there, ass in the air, frozen in the most humiliating position imaginable.
And that's when Matthew Bennett walked in—the college professor who always comes by to pick up his dry cleaning.
To my shock, he mistook me for a sex doll. His hot, thick dick pressed against my thighs...

I had been married for seven years, thinking I had the perfect family.

Until Christmas Eve, when I saw a delivery order for apartment 702. The note read: severe mango allergy.

My husband's allergy. The one that could kill him.

I flew downstairs and pounded on the door.

My husband opened it. The same man who was supposed to be "out of town on business."

A pregnant woman appeared behind him.

And my six-year-old son stood behind her, glaring at me with cold eyes:

"Make her leave, Mom. She's crazy."

My world shattered.

Three months pregnant, I took a part-time job at a bar.

On my first night, I found my husband drinking with his friends in a private room.

Ethan Grant leaned back on the couch and lifted his vape.

“Is four hundred and fifty thousand a month too little to give your wife?”

His friend jumped up. “That's not enough? What the hell is she spending it on?”

“Maybe she's keeping another guy on the side.”

The room went quiet. Ethan's expression hardened.

“She said she was broke last night, so I sent her another hundred and fifty thousand. This morning she asked for a divorce. Said if I couldn't afford to support her, I shouldn't bother.”

I stood outside the door, shaking with anger. Then I looked down at the small swell of my stomach.

I shoved the door open and went straight at him. Before he could react, I slapped him.

“Tell me. How many wives do you have?”

His eyes were bloodshot. He answered through clenched teeth.

“Just you.”

I stared at him. “Then why do I only get a hundred and twenty dollars a month?”

My boyfriend Tyler, his childhood sweetheart Chelsea, and I went on a road trip through the Australian Outback in the Northern Territory.

A few scrawny, yellow-coated dogs lingered by the roadside. Chelsea insisted on getting out to feed them.

I warned her they were dingoes, vicious predators that ruled this desert.

Her eyes welled up and she called me heartless. Tyler jumped in too, saying I grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth, that I didn't get what it was like for regular people, that I couldn't even spare a couple of hot dogs.

She forced the door open and ran out. The pack lunged at her. Her screams tore through the air. Tyler cowered in the car, shaking.

I was the only one who got out to help her.

Chelsea scrambled back into the car, but Tyler slammed the door shut and locked it.

I never forgot his face pressed against the window, terrified and selfish. I never forgot the despair of feeling fangs rip through my throat.

After I died, the two of them flew back to the States and posted a sobbing video, claiming I was the one who'd insisted on getting out to take pictures and set the dogs off.

The online hate came for my family, all of it, all at once. My parents, both with weak hearts, collapsed under the stress. Neither one made it.

My whole family, destroyed because I couldn't stop caring for one second.

When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day the trip started.

When the dismissal bell rings, the night resets.
I'm Zoe, a high school sophomore living on campus, isolated by my entire family and the whole school. My "crime"? I reported my own little brother for campus violence.
The first time, I died in the dark by the track. The second time, shut inside the equipment room. But every time I opened my eyes, I was dragged back to the exact same starting point. Only the number on my arm—the countdown of how many lives I had left—dropped by one.
The man in the black mask always seemed to know exactly where I’d run and where I’d hide. But what truly sent shivers down my spine was this: every single time, my mother stood just a few steps away, quietly watching me take my last breath.
Once the number hits zero, there is no coming back. What do I have to do to survive this night?

My mother only ever made the bedtime tea for me. Never my brother—just me, every night, because I was the gifted one, the daughter she "worried about."
The night before the scholarship exam, my one shot at college, she brought me a cup like always.
The next day I collapsed in the middle of the test. I'd never been sick a day in my life. I failed.
Don't worry, she said. We'll try again next year. And every single night, she kept making me that tea.
Second year, I went down again. Third year, again. Three times I sat that exam, three times my body quit at the worst possible moment.
The whole town started calling me the girl who faints. The genius who cracks. The family joke.
And my brother—who copied my homework and never read a book to the end—somehow walked away with everything.
I never understood why my body fell apart every time it mattered.
This was my last chance. For days I barely ate, terrified it would happen again.
Then, the night before the exam, my mother walked in with a cup of tea…

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

I, Emma Moretti, have one final secret—I’m dying.
I have stage four brain cancer.
I’ve kept this secret well, protecting my Alpha husband, Alpha Jason Romano, from the pain of losing me. I thought, at least, when I left, he would grieve.
But on my son Noah’s birthday, my world collapsed.
Alpha Jason, the Alpha I loved and sacrificed everything for, kneels—proposing to my sister, Lily.
My family claps, telling me to "understand." What about Noah? My own son? He smiles at me and says, “I also hope Aunt Lily becomes my mom.”
In that moment, I was no longer foolish.
I healed, reborn stronger than ever, returning as the heir Seraphina Malcolm.
And now, I’m not just back.
I’m back to take revenge on all of them.

I am Sybella, future Luna of the Winsor Pack, and Alpha Gabriel’s fated mate.
He once placed a rose-gold pendant engraved with my name around my neck on Christmas Eve and promised, “You are my only one.”
Until the day he showed up with Linda and told me to “deal with her.”
Until the silver dagger pressed against my abdomen as he demanded her whereabouts.
Until I saw the identical necklace hanging from her neck—
Only then did I realize his tenderness was a forgery.
By day, he forced me to accept her child and get rid of mine.
By night, he murmured in his sleep, “I’m sorry, Linda.”
Silver chains locked away my wolf soul.
He made me kneel in the rain.
His private jet—walls filled with her photos.
So he didn’t hate cameras. He just never wanted to make an exception for me.
Now he says, “She’s carrying the future Alpha.”
And I—
I handed our alliance dowry to Hale.
When he breaks down at my wedding, screaming in despair,
He’ll see the Moon Goddess he trampled rise to take her throne.

Elena died on the operating table, betrayed by her husband, her unborn child already gone.
But death? Just her intermission.
She woke up in a whole new world—a beastmen's world, where females are rarer than diamonds and the strongest males go mad without a woman's mark to calm them down.
And her?
Labelled the weakest female alive. An F-rank body with a joke of a status.
But hidden inside? Unlimited mental power.
Just as she's figuring out this mess, a system pops up with one hell of an offer:
Complete the missions. Bond with assigned males. Save this world.
Do all that, and you get a one-way ticket back home… for revenge.
Sounds simple? Think again.
A Wolf General, colder than a blizzard, who should have ended her—ended up letting her mark him.
A Fox Prince, all charming smiles and secret schemes, who started playing games only to lose his own heart.
A golden Dragon, sunshine-bright and fiercely possessive, who declares her his destined treasure.
A shadowy Serpent, too patient and too dangerous, watching her every move from the dark.
A Phoenix King, whose love burns so hot he'd reduce empires to cinders for her.
They all need her mark. They all want her.
And sharing? Not in their vocabulary.
Too bad for them—
She's not here for love stories.
She's here to survive.
To climb.
To turn their legendary power into her own stepping stones.
And one day…
To go back and make her betrayers wish they were never born.

One more time?" ML's voice was hoarse as he gently nibbled on FL's earlobe. FL's cheeks flushed. "Don’t ”she said. ML smiled. "What? Don't stop?" FL was lost in the wonderful feeling. In a daze, she recalled days long ago when she had waited at her wedding for her husband, whom she had never met. The wedding had already begun, but the groom was nowhere to be seen. Her hands and feet were cold as she faced the whispers of the guests alone. Then came the news: her groom, the future Alpha, had eloped with a ROGUE! Facing everyone's ridicule, FL decisively decided to change husbands on the spot. After all, it was just a political marriage. If she had to choose one, she would choose the strongest man. Amidst the gasps of the crowd, she fixed her gaze on the handsome and mature man, the most powerful Alpha, who was also her fiancé's stepfather. The man, 13 years her senior, firmly took FL's hand, and the two completed the wedding ceremony. Their married life was blissful and sweet, the only flaw being the rumor that ML was infertile due to an injury. As their relationship deepened, FL discovered it was just a rumor. Every time FL tried to escape, clutching her back, the strong man behind her would pull her back to bed. FL gasped, snapping out of her reverie to find ML straining against her, looking at her with a wronged expression: "You're distracted."

"Do you enjoy this? Ignoring me like I don't exist? Do you have any idea how humiliating this feels, waiting for you like some fool?" After three years of a cold, loveless marriage, Selene Henderson finally gathers the courage to walk away from her distant billionaire husband, Sebastian Kingsley.
She's ready to file for divorce... until a tragic accident changes everything. When Sebastian wakes up with no memory of the woman he once pushed away, Selene finds herself trapped in a marriage she was desperate to escape—this time with a man who suddenly looks at her like she's his whole world.
But can love born from broken memories survive the truth of their painful past? Or will the secrets she's been hiding destroy them all over again?
"Are you always this shy around your own husband, wife?" his voice dropped into a low, dangerous growl, his hands anchoring me against the wall.
"We didn't... we didn't use to do this," I gasped, trying to look away from his piercing gaze.
He leaned in, his breath hot against my lips. "Then your body has a better memory than my brain. Because right now, it's telling me you belong exactly right here."

Catherina Hanshaw Dalton has spent six years believing she lived a fairytale, married to billionaire Xavier Dalton, cherished by him, and building a life rooted in devotion, even amid one heartbreak she cannot control: their inability to have a child. Though Xavier assures her she is enough, Catherine senses his quiet disappointment, a wound deepened by the venomous hostility of his mother, Lydia Dalton. Lydia never misses a chance to insult Catherine’s infertility, idolize Xavier’s sister Mia and her children, or imply Xavier married beneath his status. Catherine endures it all, clinging to the one constant comfort, Xavier always defends her. Or so she believes.
This Christmas, however, Catherine’s dread of another humiliating Dalton family gathering turns into confusion. Lydia is gracious….kind, even. The manor is full of relatives, business partners, and esteemed guests, including Hunter Powell, Xavier’s ruthless business rival. The brief moment when Cathy’s eyes meet Hunter unsettles her, but nothing prepares her for Lydia’s “special Christmas gift.”
During the toast, Lydia presents Caroline Turner…a beautiful young woman who is allegedly four months pregnant through surrogacy…with Xavier’s child.

He swore to kill his mate.
She was convinced she’d never have one.
For twenty-one years, Ximena Blackthorn has lived as the disgrace of her pack.
Born to an Alpha and Luna without a wolf, she's treated as lower than a servant—beaten, ignored, and reminded every day that she should never have been born. Without a wolf, she believes she is beyond the reach of the mate bond.
Then the impossible happens. The moment the Supreme Alpha touches her, the mate bond awakens.
There is only one problem.
Damon has spent centuries believing that a mate is nothing more than a weakness. He made a promise long before Ximena was born: if fate ever gave him a mate, he would kill her with his own hands.
So instead of claiming her...
He hunts her.
But the more Damon tries to destroy the bond, the more his own wolf rebels against him. And when ancient powers begin awakening inside Ximena—powers that should have remained buried forever—everyone begins hunting the woman the Supreme Alpha swore to kill.
Because Ximena isn't just the Supreme Alpha's mate.
She is the one person who was never meant to return. And when the power sleeping inside her finally awakens...
Damon may discover that fate has given him something far more dangerous than a mate. It has brought back an ancient curse. And some curses don't end with death…
They begin with it.

Accidental Pups×Contract Marriage × Multiple Identity × Drama × Vengeance & Betrayal × One-Night Stand × Billionaire/CEO × Brave Heroine × True & Fake Heiress

Warning: This is a slow-burn romance. The love story develops gradually through trust, healing, family, and shared secrets.

“He doesn’t trust anyone.”

“I know.”

“Then why does he trust you?”

I don’t have an answer.

I only know that when I found little Cassian bound and abandoned, I couldn’t walk away. I didn’t know then that he was the son of Alistair Voss—the cold, powerful billionaire who trusted no one.

But Cassian trusted me.

And that changed everything.

When Alistair asks me to stay for his son, I refuse. Until he makes an even more shocking offer: marriage.

What begins as an arranged marriage slowly becomes something neither of us expected. Beneath the same roof, Cassian becomes the family I never knew I needed, while Alistair begins to see the woman behind my guarded heart.

But I didn’t return to Verona simply for a new life.

Five years ago, I lost my memory. My identity was stolen. Someone betrayed me, and someone wanted me gone.

Now the past is catching up with us.

And when it finally does, I may discover that Cassian chose me for a reason no one ever expected.

Some loves take time. Some truths take even longer to uncover.

He was born into extraordinary wealth, admired by all.
Until the woman he loved betrayed him. After years together, they parted ways.
Five years later, their paths crossed again. He sat at a bar with another woman in his arms, but the moment he saw her, rage flashed in his eyes.
"You betrayed me. What gives you the right to show your face here?"
She nodded and walked away.
He lost his mind searching for her.
Only then did he learn why she had really left.
He pulled her close, arms tight around her. "Marry me. Whatever burdens you carry, I'll carry them with you. Whatever tears fall, I'll wipe them away."

As a housewife, I never forgot a single milestone: every wedding anniversary, my husband’s 7th career anniversary, and the birthdays of my husband and daughter. Yet, my own birthday was always ignored. Both my husband and daughter only cared about that outsider woman. Finally, one day, I chose to walk away and revive my vintage shop business. Now... they are the ones filled with regret.

Because of one woman's words, Naomi Pierce and her seven-year-old daughter are cast aside in a house where they once belonged, forced to swallow humiliation while the husband and son who should have protected them stand on the wrong side. This time, Naomi stops waiting to be chosen. She walks away from the man who failed her, lets go of the son who learned cruelty from the people around him, and takes her daughter into the cold with nothing but a suitcase and a stubborn belief that they deserve better. What follows is the rise of a mother and daughter who refuse to stay broken. They return stronger, brighter, and far beyond the reach of the family that abandoned them. When the people who threw them out finally beg for another chance, Naomi has already learned the hardest lesson of all: love without respect is never worth returning to. Her comeback is not only revenge. It is the full reclaiming of dignity, success, and the future they were once denied.

My grandmother left me three things: a crumbling inn, five guests, and a warning to take good care of her guests.

She forgot to mention that the guests were dead.

Just when I'm getting used to my unusual residents, Adrian Salvatore checks in.

Handsome, infuriatingly charming, and a necromancer who can actually see my ghosts, Adrian is everything I don't need in my already complicated life.

Unfortunately, my ghosts disagree.

They've decided he's my perfect husband.

Now they're arranging romantic dinners, interfering in our private moments, and doing everything possible to make us fall in love.

And the worst part? I think their ridiculous plans might actually be working.

But Adrian is hiding something, and he seems suspiciously unwilling to leave my inn.

Then one evening, one of my ghosts disappears.

By morning, the others insist she never existed.

And the only person who might help me find her is the handsome necromancer who's been keeping secrets from me.

I inherited an inn full of ghosts. How on earth did I end up with a love life more complicated than theirs?

Caroline Mercer once believed kindness could be proven by sacrifice. She took in two orphaned children, gave them schools, doctors, tutors, rooms beside her daughter's nursery, and a path into the Mercer name.

Years later, those children returned as witnesses against her. Sloane Vale smiled for the cameras while calling Caroline a monster. Nolan Vale handed federal investigators a beautiful stack of forged evidence. Caroline's husband was broken, her company was seized, and her only daughter, Evelyn, died after being traded into a marriage meant to protect everyone else's reputation.

Then Caroline opened her eyes on the morning the Vale children first arrived at her door.

This time, she would feed them. She would house them. She would educate them. She would keep every receipt, every doctor's report, every legal notice.

But she would never again give strangers the keys to her child's future.

When I crossed into this world, I was given a husband, a childhood sweetheart, and a brother.
I thought I would be happy for the rest of my life.
Then one day a woman caught their eye, and they were willing to hurt me for her.
I stopped hoping.
And the system asked whether I wanted to take back everything I had given them.
My CEO husband's brilliance and vision.
My superstar childhood friend's voice.
My painter brother's hands and inspiration.
Exhausted, I said: Yes. Take it all back.

Dante Ashford is my stepbrother, and the one person I should never have fallen in love with.

When I was ten, my parents died saving his family. The Ashfords took me in. He was good to me back then. Somewhere along the way, I fell for him.

When I was eighteen, he nearly died in an ambush. I donated blood, then a kidney to save him. I was unconscious for three days. When I woke up, Vivian Ross sat by his bed—and he believed she was his savior.

After that, he pushed me away. Vivian became his fiancée.

In my past life, Vivian's crimes brought disaster to our family. Dante got on his knees and begged me to take her punishment. I refused. She died anyway. Then he pretended to love me, planned our wedding—and on that day, his assistant announced to everyone: "This wedding was a lesson to show Miss Elena Hayes what it feels like to be abandoned by the whole world."

I jumped from the church balcony.

When I opened my eyes, I was back at that moment—him on his knees, begging.

This time, I said yes.

Dante, from now on, we're done.

It was Valentine's Day when my fiancé, Gavin Pierce, took me out to that survival course in the Catskills — him, me, and Riley Harper, the girl his family took in when she was fourteen, after her parents died.
I'd asked for a table at the Gramercy Tavern. He'd said he hated standing in line for a reservation, that he wanted to do something that actually got our blood moving.
So he booked the three of us into a couples' wilderness challenge — which should have told me something, right there, when the booking was for three.
The final round was a solo penalty draw. One of us would pull the short stick and spend ten minutes locked inside The Freezer.
Riley hooked her arm through Gavin's, half pouting, half flirting. "Gav, if I pull it, are you gonna come get me out?"
Gavin laughed. "Rules are rules, Ri."
She stuck her lip out in a sulk.
Beside her, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
Then Riley drew the black stick, and her tears came instantly, like a faucet turning on.
Less than a second later, Gavin spoke.
"It's too dark in here. Drew the wrong one, didn't I?"
He slid the safe stick out of my hand and swapped it with hers — smooth enough that it took me a beat to understand what I'd just seen.
"You're up, Caro."
Riley's tears dried up on the spot.
Gavin turned and murmured close to my ear, "Come on. Riley has a thing about tight spaces. You're tough. Ten minutes. You'll be fine."
This wasn't the first time Gavin had dropped me the moment it counted.
I looked down at the cold already seeping through the soles of my boots, and the phone sealed in my waterproof pouch lit up.
It was the man my father had been quietly pushing on me for months.
[Valentine's Day, Miss Langley. Have you made up your mind?]

Three years into being Nathan Cole’s kept woman, I learned I was the missing daughter of one of the wealthiest families in the city.

I was about to go to them when I saw the news. Nathan had already taken his childhood friend to the party welcoming their daughter home.

When I got there, I found Vanessa Reed crying against his chest.

“What if Claire finds out?”

Nathan wiped her tears away.

“She won’t. And you need to stop feeling guilty.

“Enjoy being a Whitmore. I’ll take care of her for the rest of her life. She won’t want for anything.”

I rested a hand over my stomach.

What a joke.

I’d almost believed that with his baby on the way and the Whitmore name, I’d finally be good enough to marry him.

My husband hasn't touched me in five years. He claims he has a rare, violent allergy to women.
So when I was slipping off a cliff, he let me fall into a freezing river rather than grab my bare hand.
I lost our baby.
Three days later, I caught him rubbing another woman's ankle with his bare hands. His eyes were full of love.
So much for the rare allergy. It only applies to the woman you don’t love.
I dropped the divorce papers on his desk. "I want out."
He thought I was bluffing. But what happens when the "chaste" billionaire realizes the wife he threw away is the one who found for many years?

My boyfriend came from a family with more money than they could ever spend. In seven years together, he'd never given me a gift. After proposing, he'd asked for the diamond ring back so he could return it. When we were supposed to get married at the courthouse, he decided even the license fee was a waste of money.

Then he married the girl he'd grown up with and booked the city's most expensive hotel for the engagement party he'd promised her.

The shock brought on my grandmother's heart attack. While the hospital tried to save her, I went down on my knees and begged him to return the wages he'd been keeping for me. I needed that money for her medical bills and the care I hoped she'd live to need.

He put an arm around his new wife and pretended he didn't know me. He said he didn't support beggars too lazy to work, then had security throw me out.

Grandma died on New Year's Eve, with fireworks going off outside.

While everyone else celebrated, I handled her funeral alone. I also accepted a job overseas.

When I went home for my passport, he was in a good mood after visiting his family with his childhood sweetheart. He thought I was sulking. For the first time, he made me a generous offer.

“Oh, come on. How bad can things be with your grandmother? I'll give you a big wedding. Let her show off a little.”

He didn't know that the moment Grandma stopped breathing, I stopped wanting to marry him.

Three months after being reunited with the Harrington family, I won £5 million in the lottery.

Then, they kicked me out of the house.

My father, my mother, and that imposter brother—three swindlers—fabricated an apocalyptic lie and used a so-called "heirloom" to steal my lottery ticket.

They didn't know that the end times really were coming.

Unbeknownst to them, the true power of that wristband was—item duplication.

Little did they know, I was the one who had truly been reborn from the apocalypse.

In my past life, they used me as bait, letting me be torn to pieces by the infected.

In this life, 5 million pounds? Go ahead and squander it.

I want to watch them struggle in despair and die in fear.

And I will have unlimited resources at my disposal, on this wasteland—

My aunt publicly shamed me in our family's group chat.
She posted a scandalous tabloid photo of a pregnancy rune, screaming that I was knocked up by a 48-year-old, heavily indebted, curse-infected former goblin hunter.
"You've ruined our family's honor, Seraphina! Marry Silas today and sign the soul-binding contract, or you'll be disowned!" she demanded.
Instantly, the group chat exploded with relatives cursing my name.
They thought I was ruined. My aunt thought her master plan to steal my high-paying bank salary to cover this old creep's gambling debts had finally worked.
What she didn't know? I never drank her tea laced with an illegal Love Bond. I never wore the cursed dress laced with an Obedience Charm.
I sent her own precious, supposedly innocent 20-year-old daughter, Chloe, to the blind date instead.
I calmly saved the photo, zoomed in on the magical signature glowing on the pregnancy rune, drew a bright red circle around it, and hit 'send' to the entire family.
"@Agatha," I typed. "Before you force me into a wedding dress, you might want to read the name on that Foul Fetus. Congratulations, Auntie... you're going to be a grandmother."
The chat went dead silent. Then, my phone rang with Aunt Agatha's hysterical, blood-curdling scream. But the real nightmare for her? This was only step one of my revenge.

It was my fifth engagement party, and my fiancé, Adrian, didn't show up. Again.

Guests from every family showed up, and one by one, they left again.

Adrian was the Don of the Severino family. We'd been engaged for three years.

His father, Vincent, New York's old Godfather, had arranged the match himself. Every family in the city knew I'd be the next Severino Donna.

My mom, Diane, didn't rush in with Adrian until the last guest was gone.

She grabbed my hand. "Sweetheart, your dad got jumped today. He's hurt. Adrian was at the clinic with him all day. He couldn't get away. Don't be mad at him, okay?"

That made five times. Every single time, it ended just like this, with nothing settled.

"What about last time?" I asked.

Mom hesitated. "Last time... the Ricci family called a sit-down at the last minute."

"No." I looked right at her. "Last time you said there was a problem with a shipment at the docks. The Ricci sit-down was the time before that."

She smoothed it over fast. "Then I got them mixed up. Sienna, don't make such a big deal out of something this small."

"You know better than anyone how good Adrian is to you. Keep this up and you're just going to push him away."

I didn't say anything. My eyes were on Adrian's wrist.

That rosary bracelet belonged to my half-sister, Marissa. She never took it off.

Adrian sighed like he was worn out. "Sienna, I told you, something really came up. If you still don't believe me, I'll just go tell my dad to call off the engagement."

"Don't bother," I said.

He looked relieved. He probably figured I'd cave like I had the last four times.

"I'll go see him myself," I said. "From now on, you go your way and I'll go mine. You and I are done."