8162 Book(s) Related to i survived the titanic graphic novel

The first thing they took was my baby.

The second was my parents.

The third was my freedom, my eyes, and every reason to live.

My husband gave me to three men on our anniversary. He chained me in a doghouse while his mistress laughed. He fed me my own son’s remains and called it mercy.

He said I was dirty. He said I deserved it.

But the DNA test he trusted was a lie. The video was staged. And the woman he’s about to marry is the one who destroyed us all.

I tried to die. Four times.

Now I’m done trying.

They put a dead woman in the ground. They’re about to find out she brought hell back with her.

After three years of marriage, the first thing my husband did upon waking from his vegetative state was to humiliate me for my stepsister. I once thought that my three years of devoted care would earn me a shred of his affection, only to discover that he had always loved the woman who stole everything from me including my identity. For her sake, he forced me to leave with nothing and had me blacklisted throughout the city.

But what they didn't know was that the woman they discarded like a piece of trash would shed her apron and become a legendary racer who struck fear into the hearts of the entire racing world. When my husband's archrival extended an olive branch to me, this game of revenge began—who will ultimately be the winner?

Gabrielle Wheeler is a plus-sized nerd from a struggling pack and feels trapped by her life.

Wanting to rebel, she drinks too much at a party and drives home drunk.

On an empty road near the pack borders, she hits a lone motorcyclist.

Panicked, she rushes him to the hospital, but the doctor tells her he has a severe spinal injury and might never walk again.

Afraid of jail or exile, Gabrielle leaves him there and runs away.

When Gabrielle returns home, she discovers her mother is marrying Ronan Blackthorn, the richest and most powerful Alpha in the country.

All their debts are wiped clean, and Gabrielle must leave her old life behind to attend the prestigious Raven Wood University, a mixed human-werewolf school.

At the Blackthorn estate, Gabrielle meets her new stepbrother, Kalvin Blackthorn, the same boy she hit on her birthday.

The pack discovers she was responsible for the accident. Her mother pleads for her, but Gabrielle is punished: she must take care of Kalvin for one year until he is fit for surgery.

That same night, the full moon rises.

Gabrielle discovers that Kalvin is her fated mate. Kalvin almost rejects her, furious over his injury, but he comes up with a dark and wicked idea.

He will use the mate bond to punish Gabrielle for what she did to him.

Gabrielle’s life is turned upside down, trapped with the boy she almost ruined and forced to live under his control while learning the power of their bond.

I was reborn, and so was my husband. But he chose his true love as his wife...

"Spread your legs. If you don't do as I say, I'll open your pussy with my whole hand. Understand?" His voice was calm and firm.

I whimpered loudly but nodded.

"Good baby, now let's get started on what I want. Will you be a good girl?" His voice was once again filled with coldness.

"Yes." I whispered as I clenched my teeth and managed to place my hands in his. His hands were big and held me firmly.

"Good girl." He replied sarcastically. But before he let go of my poor nipples, he rubbed his palms over the sensitive and delicate pussy...

Alan Hillman is a man with a singular interest in revenge. Kidnapped as a young boy and sold into slavery by a power-hungry mobster, he has thought of nothing but vengeance.

For twelve years he has immersed himself in the world of pleasure slaves searching for the one man he holds ultimately responsible.

Finally, the architect of his suffering has emerged with a new identity, but not a new nature. If Alan is to get close enough to strike, he must become the very thing he abhors and kidnap a beautiful girl to train her to be all that he once was.

But what if he falls in love with the girl he kidnapped?

Serena Hale thought she had finally built a quiet life for herself—one where her past, her family’s mistakes, and her father’s debts wouldn’t define her. But when her father’s financial troubles drag her into a marriage contract with Adrian Vale, a cold and devastatingly handsome billionaire heir, her fragile world shatters.
To the outside world, they are a perfect couple: glamorous, untouchable, and united. In reality, Serena and Adrian are strangers bound by obligation, their relationship defined by rules, tension, and restraint. He is ruthless, emotionally distant, and used to controlling everyone around him. She is quiet, observant, and fiercely protective of the small autonomy she has left. Every interaction is a battle between control and resistance, pride and vulnerability, fear and desire.
As they navigate public appearances, family scrutiny, and the constraints of their forced union, unexpected emotions begin to stir. Their hostility slowly transforms into understanding, and resentment gives way to longing—but every step toward connection is fraught with danger. Secrets from both their pasts threaten to unravel the fragile trust forming between them, and Serena soon realizes that love in this arrangement comes at a high cost.
When betrayal and scandal push them to the breaking point, Serena must decide whether to fight for the life she wants or surrender to the man who has slowly captured her heart. And Adrian must confront the truth: love cannot be forced, earned, or bought—it must be chosen.
Bound to a Man I Never Chose is a slow-burn billionaire romance about trust, power, emotional resilience, and the courage it takes to claim your own life, even when every choice feels impossible.

Vanessa Williams has three ironclad rules: hate hockey, avoid hockey players, and never, ever get hurt by one again. Her father was the first to break that last rule, and Danny Glover—the campus hockey god with a smile that once wrecked her—was the second. Three years ago, she ran. Now, her graduate degree depends on studying the very sport she despises, and her advisor just assigned her to work with him.

Danny Glover has spent three years regretting the night he lost Vanessa. When she walks back into his life, all sharp edges and guarded green eyes, he sees a second chance. To protect her from his teammates’ relentless gossip and unwanted advances, he proposes a solution that’s as brilliant as it is dangerous: fake date. Publicly, they’ll be the picture-perfect couple. Privately, it’s just business.

The rules are simple: no feelings, no sex, just performative affection when people are watching. But every whispered study session, every pretend date that feels too real, and every old memory that sparks to life makes those boundaries blur. As their carefully staged romance starts to feel alarmingly genuine, they must confront past betrayals, a scandal that could ruin everything, and the terrifying possibility that the greatest risk isn’t getting caught in the lie…

It’s falling in love—for real this time.

Warning!!! Rated. 18+
{She was my tool for revenge, but I ended up falling for her}
"I'M sorry, but I beg of you don't sell me out like the others please, remember I'm your family right?" she cried.
"How many times am I gonna tell you that you are not in any way related to me Gianna? I found you in the orphanage and took pity on you, the fact that I nursed you up till this moment does not make you my family. I only took good care of you because I know one day you gonna bring me so much money and that day is today so go get ready. You have already been bought my dear Gianna", she nulled with a wicked grin on her face.
Seventeen and still bubbling, already blessed with all womanly features endowed in the right places, Gianna was adopted by an Aunt Christa, when she clocked two.
Aunt Christa was a restaurant owner, more like a delivery slut restaurant, and in there, Gianna served her diligently and faithfully.
Then, the time came when she needed to fulfill that which had been on her mind for like fifteen years, and what was that? To sell her off, to make up money to cover up expenses spent,... and to make more money.
Guess who bought her?? Greg Starr, a 24 year old young entrepreneur, and a Mafia King under cover, very ruthless and heartless.
She was bought to be his tool for revenge, purchased to get back at Clemson, the brother she never knew she had, and his enemy from the past.
And then what happens his female folks?Cassandra Mayor and Beverly Kingstown? Are they all going to just fold their arms and watch this little fragile beauty take their man away?
The worst of it all, she got pregnant for him; got pregnant for a beast in human form.
Was he happy when he got to hear the news? Did he agree to keep the baby? What about her? Was she happy to keep the baby of a ruthless Mafia King?

I woke up on the operating table—minutes away from having my kidney harvested for the girl who ruined my life. Last time, I died alone, infected, while my family celebrated her “recovery.” Not this time.

I refused the surgery, exposed their lies, and walked out. Now, they call me crazy, ungrateful, a disgrace. But I see them for what they are: parasites who drained my talent, my money, and nearly my life.

I’m done begging for love that was never mine. Instead, I’m selling my music, acing exams, and building my own future—without them. Let them coddle their precious adopted princess. I have a second chance, and I’m not wasting it on people who’d bury me for their convenience.

This time, I choose me. Watch me burn brighter than their golden girl ever could.

<>



Vanessa thought rock bottom was signing divorce papers with Derek Holland, a man with the emotional depth of a teaspoon. Turns out, rock bottom had a basement, and Ryker Holland was waiting for her down there with a smirk and a plan.

Ryker, Derek's older half-brother (aka the family's dirty little secret), shows up offering Vanessa a deal: help her make her ex-husband, Derek Holland, jealous enough to come crawling back. In exchange, he secures his position as CEO.

But Ryker isn't doing this out of kindness. He is petty and cruel. He would do anything to trample all over Derek, and now he has the perfect weapon. Vanessa, freshly dumped and just desperate enough to play along. And if she happens to enjoy making her ex suffer too? Well, that's just a bonus.

As Vanessa sinks deeper into Ryker's twisted world of fake romance, secrecy and family dysfunction, things start getting real. Because fake love? It's a lot easier to control than real feelings. And Ryker has no idea what to do when the game stops being a game.

Is Vanessa walking into a trap or building one of her own? Either way, the Holland brothers are going down. One's going to break, and the other's going to enjoy every second of it.

_Disclaimer:

This story contains morally complex and flawed characters, who often operate with hidden motives and questionable ethics. Themes explored include emotional manipulation, gaslighting, power imbalance, dual identities, and blurred lines between love, control, and obsession. Certain scenes may be intense or unsettling. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

Kimberly Smith thought winning a scholarship to Greywood Academy would be her way out. Straight A’s. A fresh start. A future that her mom could finally be proud of.
Instead, Greywood takes one look at her thrift shoes and homemade lunch—and decides she’s entertainment.
They call her Scumbag of the Week.
They film her, mock her, and turn every mistake into a headline.
And the worst part? The boy who started it is the one person she can’t avoid.
Xavier Grey is the heir everyone fears, the boyfriend every girl worships, and the bully who knows exactly how to break people with a smirk. Kimberly swears she’ll survive him, not fall for him.
Then the lines blur.
A “dare kiss” goes viral. Someone pushes her into a pool. Her scholarship is suddenly under review—with “evidence” that makes her look guilty. Her only friend turns against her. Even her mother starts to doubt her.
And Xavier—cold, controlled Xavier—starts showing up when it matters. Warning her away from traps. Paying to erase posts. Touching her tears like he hates that they exist.
Greywood is built to crush girls like Kimberly.
So why does its most dangerous boy look like he might burn it down for her?

“You only have to carry our baby.”

Evelyn Carter never imagined that her mother’s staggering medical bills would force her into a secret arrangement she could never tell anyone about.

Desperate to save her mother, Evelyn signs a confidential surrogacy contract with the wife of one of New York’s most powerful billionaires. Her only job is to give the Whitmore family an heir.

But there is one problem she never expected—

The baby’s father is her billionaire boss, Alexander Whitmore.

And Alexander has no idea who she really is.

By day, he is an untouchable business king. By night, Evelyn is summoned to his private apartment under the terms of their secret arrangement.

She keeps telling herself it’s nothing more than a transaction.

Until an unexpected encounter at the hospital makes Alexander notice her for the first time.

He becomes fascinated by the woman who always seems desperate to avoid him.

Why does she look at him like she’s hiding something?

And when Evelyn finally discovers she is pregnant with his baby, Alexander begins to realize—

The mysterious woman carrying his child may have already become the woman he can’t let go.

In my past life, under the guise of "testing" my boyfriends, my so-called best friend systematically stole my haute couture, hijacked my identity as a wealthy heiress, and seduced every man I ever dated.

It culminated in the ultimate betrayal: she conspired with my fiancé to drug me, broadcast my private photos at my own wedding, and shove me off a rooftop.

She took absolutely everything from me—even murdering my parents by tampering with their gas line to stage a tragic accident.

But fate gave me a second chance.

My eyes snap open. I’m sitting right back in the VIP suite of that lavish restaurant.

My fiancé has just slid the spiked glass of whiskey right toward my hand.

I silently stare at the swirling ice cubes. Instead of picking it up, I raise my hand and casually sweep the heavy glass to the floor.

Crash.

In this life, I am done playing defense.

Since she is so utterly obsessed with stealing my men, I’ll gladly build a magnificent stage for her performance. I'm going to let her claw her way up, let her believe she has finally reached the absolute peak of high society...

Only to personally watch her plunge into the abyss.

I spent ten years turning a thug into a top boxer, but he and my wife kicked me out of the game, mocking me for "not understanding business and being outdated."

I didn't argue, and turned around to pick up a homeless man who had fought in underground boxing matches on the roadside.

A year later, the homeless man's apprentice knocked out the defending champion with one punch and won the gold belt; while that ingrate who betrayed me was beaten into a cripple in the underground boxing ring.

The geniuses you all think they are are nothing more than half-finished products under my tutelage!

On the night of the charity gallery opening, I caught Lucas and Lila tangled together in the storage closet.
He pulled the girl tight against his chest and sneered, “Stella, you’re eight whole years older than me. You’ve controlled my life for five years—when are you gonna realize you can never hold onto me?”
Lila giggled, snuggling deeper into his arms. “You’re past your prime, ma’am. Why cling to someone who was never yours to begin with?”
Snickers and mocking laughter rippled through the onlookers.
I gave a slow, hollow smile.
For five years, I single-handedly kept Scott Enterprises afloat, mopped up every mess he made, and buried every scandal spawned by his endless string of flings.
Still, he hopped from one girl to the next, weaponizing our age gap to mock and hurt me, over and over again.
Then he shoved me hard. I crumpled to the floor in a pool of my own blood, watching him bolt out with another woman in his arms, not a single glance thrown back my way.
I knew right then the baby was gone.
Everyone whispered how pathetically I’d bent over backward for love.
No one ever learned the truth: I endured everything only because his face mirrored my late fiancé, Elias.

I'm the forgotten eldest son of the Cross family.
My parents see me as a walking blood bag for my brother Colin, while my wife views me as a sinner destined to spend my life atoning for my mistakes.
When Audrey pressured me to donate a kidney, I agreed.
Not only did I agree, but I also liquidated all my assets and transferred them to my lab.
They thought I was foolish, that I was still begging for their love.
In reality, I was just tying up loose ends.
The night before the surgery, I coughed up a pool of blood.
Audrey laughed coldly over the phone: "Stop the act, Evan. You just want to dodge responsibility. You'll go to any lengths for attention."
The surgery was a "success."
Colin got the kidney he'd always dreamed of.
And I died in the recovery room.
My soul floated in the air as I watched Audrey push open the hospital door, wearing a smile that dripped with pity, ready to put on a show of "redemption."
"Evan, I know you've been wronged. Let's start over..."
The only response to her was the white sheet covering my lifeless body.

The day I walked in on my boyfriend screwing that blonde tramp, I dropped the homemade tiramisu right there on the floor—our two-year relationship smashed to bits, messier than the splattered cream.

I ducked into a bar, slamming back whiskey, when this guy in a sharp black suit sidles up, his voice smooth as silk laced with bourbon. I spat out, "Help me forget him," but ended up totally lost in the presidential suite. He backed me against the wall, tore open my blouse, his tongue circling my nipple before biting down hard, leaving me breathless. "You taste like candy, baby—tonight, I'm gonna eat you up."

But then my boyfriend FaceTimes, spots the guy behind me, and loses it, screaming, "Dad!"

I went ice-cold—my hookup was my boyfriend's stepdad? Even worse, this thirty-three-year-old powerhouse was Brooklyn's deadliest mob boss.

What began as a vengeful fling spiraled into a forbidden nightmare?

My husband bought a necklace for the woman who killed my mother.

When I saw my foster sister Rebecca Rebecca wearing that emerald necklace with Aaron at the party, I knew history would repeat itself. Seven years ago, my mother lost everything the same way—her husband, her dignity, and finally her life.

I wouldn't follow in her footsteps.

So after slapping Rebecca across the face, I told everyone I was divorcing him and walked out with my suitcase.

Rebecca thought she'd won again. Aaron thought I was just being hysterical.

Neither of them saw it coming—

This time, I'd make them pay.

Three months ago, I was kidnapped. When Alexander rescued me, I woke up in a hospital bed with my clothes disheveled and bruises covering my body. What happened during those hours? I don't remember any of it.

A week ago, I found out I was pregnant. He held me as I shook and told me that it wasn't my fault. That he failed to protect me. Even if the baby wasn't his, he'd raise it. He'd still give me the perfect wedding.

But the guilt ate me alive until depression took hold.

Every night, sleep stays out of reach. Nightmares find me the moment I close my eyes. I've tried to end it. Three times now. Each time, someone found me just in time.

After the third failed attempt, I make tea and head toward his study to apologize. Voices drift through the door before I reach it.

"Are you out of your mind? Evelyn's your fiancée!" His friend sounds disbelieving. "You actually hired someone to kidnap her? Made her think she was assaulted? Just so Lily could take her place? Do you know how messed up that is? What that does to someone?"

Alexander's voice comes out calm. "Lily got sick because of me. Her dying wish is to marry me once before she goes. If I didn't push Evelyn out of the picture, her father would never let Lily take her place."

All those nights. All those nightmares. All those times I scrubbed my hands raw until they bled. It was all a lie. A setup.

For another woman.

I pull out my phone and call my father.

"Dad. I'll agree to the arrangement."

To please his mistress, Callum ordered me—pregnant—to dance barefoot in the black salt ice cellar.

When I stumbled back to the doorway to warm myself, the mistress covered her mouth and retched.

"I'm pregnant. I can't stand this death-stench of winter."

Only because I was a princess of the Winter Realm, born carrying frost in my veins.

Callum flew into a rage and had me locked inside a frost-crystal cage, sunk to the bottom of the ice well. No one was allowed to release me without his command.

"A princess of winter, afraid of the cold? What a joke!"

No matter how I struggled or begged, he couldn't have cared less. He and his mistress treated it as entertainment. And just like that, I froze to death at the bottom of that well.

What he didn't know was that although we winter-born are forged in bitter cold, when we carry a child, every drop of magic goes to protecting the baby. We have no defense left for ourselves. The very ice that shaped us becomes the thing that kills us.

Two days later, he was finally satisfied and ordered them to pull me up.

But I could never come back up again.

I stepped out of my OB-GYN appointment, only to be crushed by a speeding truck while my husband watched from the opposite curb, not even blinking.
I choked on my own blood before waking up on the exact same street corner.
I thought I had been reborn, but then I saw a glowing red number "4" burned into the skin of my forearm.
What the hell was happening?

I grew up alongside my next-door neighbor, ice hockey prodigy Lachlan, silently paving the way for his future. In my past life, he planned to quit his crucial scout game for his girlfriend Tamsin.
Fearing he would ruin his career, I tipped off his parents to stop him. After graduation, I joined his sports agency and spent three years cleaning up his messes, clinging to the hope that my devotion would eventually win him over.
Yet after Tamsin’s death, he blamed me entirely, shattered my fingers, and drowned me in a frozen lake. Reborn back in high school, I finally woke up. I will no longer stop him from chasing his doomed fate.

My husband used my cottage to cheat on me. Fine. I found out, I drove three hours, and I walked into my own house to find his mistress wearing my dead grandmother's sweater.
She told me to leave.
He showed up, kissed her in front of me, then grabbed my arm and shoved me into the door frame.
That's when I had the asthma attack. He's known about my asthma for five years.
My inhaler rolled across the porch floor. His mistress picked it up, held it out, and told me to sign a statement saying I'd caused all of this. Then she'd give it back.
He looked at me on the ground and said: She's performing.
I'm sitting on the floor of my own grandmother's house, gasping, and my husband is telling the neighbors I'm acting.
Nobody thought to ask whose family manages every property on this coastline.

My fiancé accused me of not caring about family.
To appease him, I planned a family vacation.
But the night before we left, he informed me that he'd given my first-class seat to his childhood sweetheart.
And me? He stuck me in coach on a flight flagged for possible terror threats.
Everyone in his family thought I should just go along with it.
That was the moment I woke up.
I tore up the itinerary and booked myself a trip to Hawaii instead.
Then I turned off my phone and let them sweat over the hotel bill.
It wasn't until their reservation got canceled that they finally started to panic.

Every time my adopted sister, Ivy, and I had a disagreement, my fiancé and my brother would always call for a "democratic vote."
When choosing our marital home, I wanted the historic townhouse in Beacon Hill, close to my parents. Ivy wanted the luxury penthouse in the Seaport District because it was more vibrant.
Deadlocked, we put it to a vote.
William, my fiancé, raised his hand first. "You're too rigid, Charlotte. You don't understand how to enjoy life. I agree with Ivy."
My brother patted my head. "Don't be selfish. Seaport is closer to Ivy's office. She can easily come stay with you when she's tired."
Three to one. Once again, I was forced to compromise.
 
And when Ivy wanted the massive south-facing master suite in my new house to build her walk-in closet?
"Let's vote to keep things fair," my fiancé, William, declared.
I was a rising architect at Boston's most prestigious firm, yet I didn't even have the right to design my own marital home.
Unsurprisingly, Ivy won unanimously.
Leaving me, the bride, with a master bedroom barely half the size of my adopted sister's closet.
 
Out of more than a hundred family votes over the last ten years:
My fiancé's votes for me: Zero.
My own brother's votes for me: Zero.
Since this was a rigged game of scales that would never tip in my favor... I choose to quit.
Let them play their little voting game without me.

"Sign the Brooklyn house over to Isla. I'll cover your tuition next semester."

Gabriel didn't look up. Just sat there in his leather chair like he was doing me a favor.

My mother grabbed my sleeve. "She has depression, Rachel. She just needs a studio. Why are you making this so hard?"

I looked at her, then at him. That house was the only thing my father left me when he died. The only thing. And my stepbrother was sitting in his leather chair, offering me a trade like it was nothing.

"That house is the only thing my father left me," I said. "You know that."

Gabriel finally looked up. "I know. Sign anyway."

My mother tightened her grip on my sleeve. I shook her off.

"Give me the pen."

I signed. Grabbed my suitcase — packed for three days — and walked out.

I had nowhere to go. I didn't care.

Not long after I transferred to this school, I became the bullies’ favorite target.
They didn’t like how quiet I was or how pale I looked, so they casually slapped me with a nickname: “vampire.”
It started with shoves in the hallway and jeers in the classroom, escalated to messing with my drink, then stuffing trash into my locker.
They treated my silence as permission and wrapped every provocation in the same excuse: “Just a joke.”
Until that night, when humiliation wasn’t enough. They lured me into a tiny storage room behind the auditorium—locked the door, killed the lights, set up a fixed camera—ready to strap me to a chair and film an “execution” video that would make sure I could never hold my head up at this school again.
What they didn’t know was that the nickname wasn’t a joke. It was the one time they got the truth right.
I really am a vampire.

On the third day of the outbreak, I sat in my company’s executive conference room, gripping the red toy car I bought for my six-year-old son.

Outside the door were zombies filling the building. Beside me were six executives still breathing only because I was.

They wanted meetings. They wanted to wait for rescue. They wanted to chain me with morality.

But I wanted one thing—my son was still in daycare. Three days. No one went for him.

At dawn, I opened the door they’d barricaded shut.

I can shoot. I can clear a path. I will carve my way through to bring him back.

Anyone who stands in my way dies.

In my previous life, I chose the werewolf and gave birth to the Arbiter, only to be burned alive by the younger sister I loved most.
When I was reborn, I knelt before the Oath Stone, handed my marriage pact to her, and watched her gloat in triumph before choosing Sylas, the elf everyone else avoided.
Everyone was waiting to see me make a fool of myself—until the day of the wedding, when he came carrying a gown blessed by the Sacred Tree, lowered his eyes to me, and said, "In this life, I will never fail you."

I was Sophia Corleone. The wife Michael kept hidden from the world. The woman who should have stood beside the Don. And the woman he left to die.
The Morettis tied me up at a dock on Long Island. With the last of my strength, I called my husband. My voice broke with terror: “Michael, please… save me. I’m at the Long Island docks. They’re going to kill me.”
But all I got was his impatient roar, “Sophia, are you lying for attention again? You’d make up something this pathetic just to get me home? God, you make me sick.”
The call cut off in my ear. And then the Morettis killed me.

For three years, she nursed her paralyzed husband, risked her own life testing experimental drugs, and nearly destroyed her health to pull him back from the brink of death.
But on the very day he fully recovered, he held his first love in his arms and declared, “I will take care of her and our child for the rest of my life.”
Heartbroken, she asked for a divorce. In return, he coldly froze all her bank accounts and forced her out of the house with nothing, sneering, “You are nothing without me.”
It was not until she hid her pregnancy test and walked away for good that he finally panicked.

"Three years ago, you saved me from that old gymnasium fire," Elvira whispered, her hand trembling as she removed the moonstone ring. "You promised to mark me, to make me your Luna."

Carlisle's jaw tightened. "I will. After the ceremony—"

"There is no ceremony." Her voice cut through the Elder Hall like ice. "Because the man who saved me that night... wasn't you."


Elvira Veil has spent three years as the unmarked fiancée of Blackpine's future Alpha, Carlisle—waiting for a bond that never came, enduring his pregnant mistress, watching her father's trust fund mysteriously dwindle. When she finally discovers the truth—that her salvation, her engagement, even her inheritance were all built on lies—she makes a choice that shocks the werewolf world: she dissolves their contract and walks away.

But freedom comes with a price. Her stepbrother Nolan wants to drag her back to the suffocating Veil estate. Blackpine refuses to let her go, claiming she's been manipulated by Reign Ashford—the brooding Greystone Alpha who's been watching her from the shadows for years. As Elvira's long-suppressed wolf finally awakens, she finds herself caught between three powerful men, each claiming to love her, each hiding devastating secrets.

Fighting for her father's legacy in werewolf court, Elvira must prove she's strong enough to stand alone. But as evidence mounts and alliances crumble, she realizes the conspiracy runs deeper than anyone imagined—and the greatest threat may come from the one person she's learning to trust.

The hearing that will determine her fate is tomorrow. But tonight, as her first heat cycle begins and ancient mate bonds stir to life, Elvira faces an impossible question: In a world where Alphas rule and Omegas submit, can she truly claim her own destiny? Or will the truth about that night three years ago destroy everything she's fought to build?

The answer lies buried in Greystone's archives—and someone will kill to keep it there.

It was a rainy night, and I was running wildly down the road, with that man behind me chasing relentlessly, a malicious grin on his face. Desperately searching for a safe haven, the lit-up bookstore not far ahead seemed to be my only glimmer of hope.
But I tripped. I tried to scramble back to my feet quickly, yet the rain and the slippery ground sent me crashing down again. A sharp pain shot through my knees, while the sound of footsteps behind me grew louder and louder. I frantically reached out to grab the gravel in the muddy water; my fingertips had just brushed against a sharp-edged stone when a low sigh echoed in my ear: "You can't run away."
I turned my head to look. He was already standing right in front of me, rainwater dripping down his distorted face, his eyes glinting with a crazy and cruel light. He slowly knelt down, one hand clamping my chin tightly to force me to meet his gaze, and a blood-curdling laugh escaped his lips: "I've finally got you tonight. You will be mine forever."
Will Claire survive? And will she successfully escape the attacker's assault?
This is a novel of extraordinary imagination—step in and seek the thrill and the answer.

My husband swore I was the only woman he would ever love.
Then my half-sister handed me her ultrasound. His baby. Growing inside her.
Three years of marriage. Three years of building everything together. Gone in one moment.
I should have thrown the proof in his face.
But my doctor gave me news that made his betrayal feel like nothing.
So I did something he will never expect.
I disappeared.
Let him search. Let him lose his mind.
He will never find me.

She woke up naked, bound, and on display in a birdcage.

Her husband sat in the front row while strangers bid on her unborn son's organs. He believed the video. The DNA test. The other woman's lies.

They took her baby. They took her mother. They tried to take her mind.

So she let them think she was broken. She smiled through the electric shocks. She bent without breaking. She counted down to the surgery that was supposed to kill her.

But she wasn't counting down to her death.

She was counting down to theirs.

They wanted her heart?

She'll give it to them—still beating, as she becomes their judge, jury, and executioner.

Dark Revenge Romance. CW: non-con, graphic violence, pregnancy loss, captivity. Read with caution.

18🔞

Blurb
"I am sorry for the inconvenience, I will move to my room now.”

"I love it when someone of your caliber inconveniences me.“

"Are you not afraid of what I might do to you?” He grabbed her neck and she moaned out slowly.

"Do to me what you desire,” She said breathlessly.

"It's best you let me go.” He kissed her neck and it sent a shiver down her spine.

"You are in my debt!!”

"Then why don't I clear off the debts.” He turned her to the bed.

Meet Tessy Jones, an MBBS student who has a deep crush on her hot neighbor who is old enough to be her father. Having a taste of him triggered everything about her to have more of him.

Tables turned upside down when she discovered he was daddy's best friend not just that she was also betrothed to his nephew.

Now Tessy is so obsessed with Daddy's best friend, what will she do? No father will want their daughter to date their best friend and the age gap is also a big no, lastly he is also a ruthless mafia.

Amara Snow hates Christmas with every fiber of her being. For sixteen years, December 25th has been a day of grief, not joy—the anniversary of the car accident that killed her parents. While the world celebrates, she works double shifts and avoids the holiday like a curse. When she loses her job on Christmas Eve and collapses in the snow, she's ready to give up. But a mysterious stranger with impossibly warm hands and eyes like starlight saves her life. Noelle Krystov seems too perfect, too kind, too good to be true. That's because he is. He's the immortal son of Santa Claus, sent to Earth to protect the dying spirit of Christmas. Falling in love with a human is forbidden—it will cost him his immortality. But when Noelle discovers that Amara isn't just any human, that she's the Yuletide Child born at the exact moment Christmas magic was created, their love becomes the key to saving or destroying Christmas forever. As dark forces rise to extinguish belief and hope, Amara must choose: continue hating the holiday that took everything from her, or become the woman who saves it. Sometimes the greatest magic isn't in believing in Christmas—it's in believing in yourself.

Will a man learn to love me if I’m good to him long enough?

I tried for seven years to warm his heart.
I thought if I just held on a little longer, he’d finally see me.
Because I loved him so deeply.

But what did I get in return?
His endless tenderness for another woman.
I pretended I didn’t care, until pneumonia landed me in the hospital.

On the day I was discharged, I found him standing there with our daughter, his whole world focused on caring for that woman.
Even my daughter, whom I’d raised with everything I had, wished that woman was her mother.

In that moment, my heart died completely.

I left the divorce papers, gave up custody, and walked back into the chemical industry.
So what if seven years of marriage had worn me down?
I was still the top genius in my field.

But the divorce I’d wanted so badly never went through.
The man who once couldn’t have been colder to me now held on to me tighter than ever.
Our daughter refused to leave my side.

When he found my divorce papers,
the always cold and arrogant man pushed me against the wall and growled:

“Divorce? You’re mine. For life.”

No one knew she was swapped at birth, doomed to be the family’s endless cash supply.
She died exhausted by their greed, yet woke up back to the fateful day of the unfair contract.
Reborn, she hides her cards well.
She will uncover all the fake heiress’s dark plots, retrieve her lost wealthy bloodline, and never let anyone drain her life again.

Martin Williams and Estella Jules grew up together, but lived completely different lives. She was the nanny’s daughter, while Martin was the child her mother served. After her mother died, Estella was taken in by the Williams family and raised to become the nanny’s replacement. At home, she was Martin’s loyal servant, but at school, she was his number one target.

Nobody knew about their secret master–maid relationship, and Martin would curse Estella if anyone ever found out they lived in the same apartment. He grew to hate her presence, while Estella continued to smile at him through everything. Not out of loyalty or obligation, but because she was sincerely in love with him.

Estella knew she would do anything for Martin, yet he never cared enough to notice. She couldn’t stop herself, like a moon drawn endlessly to the sun. Until one night, at Martin’s birthday party, her eyes finally opened to who he truly was. That night, she swore she would stop loving him, stop begging for him, and stop crying over him.

What she didn’t know was that her decision would only make their relationship even more complicated—messy, intense, and filled with the reckless sweetness of their perfectly imperfect youth.

Arabella owed her life to him believing that he’s the reason she didn’t die that night. The night she was ambushed and almost shot. But she never knew it was a perfect set-up by him just to walk his way into her life and ruin her.

For the sins of her father, Conrad married Arabella with the intention to break her and steal her heirloom. At the time Arabella found out the man she married had gambled with her heart, it was too late. Her image was tarnished on the net by a stunt Conrad pulled. Broken and devastated, she badly wanted to divorce Conrad and hurt him back but it was impossible and risky.

Because her only son whom Conrad turned against her, would gladly choose to follow his father in court. Meanwhile, her heirloom was in her son’s name. Therefore she would lose everything to Conrad. Everything was a cross road for Arabella. Everyone was against her, including her best friend who had been having an affair with Conrad.

However in her perilous moment, she never expected to come faced with a man from her past who died to her. The first man who ever hurt her but that same man was the only one who can help crush her husband and claim everything back. Does Arabella let off of resentment and accept Damon’s help?

Rachel Reizz is nobody — overweight, overlooked, and perfectly fine with that. Until she takes a job she can't afford to turn down.
Until she finds out who she's working for. Chris De Luca. Formula 1's golden boy. The most worshipped name in school. And the boy who has made her life hell since day one. The rule is simple: do the job, take the money, don't get attached.

“Go to your father’s chambers and kill him.”

The command controlled my body, forcing me to swing the saber. I watched in horror as I beheaded the Divine God—my own father. Stripped of my powers and exiled by my brothers, I fell from the sky and crashed into a freezing river.

I thought I would die. Instead, I was pulled out by three identical, breathtakingly handsome men.

“We should leave her,” one sneers.
“I’d like to fuck her though,” another says, his eyes raking over my soaked dress.

They are triplets. They are Alphas. And they have decided to keep me.
I am Lillyan Elyort, the fallen Moon Goddess. Now, I am a prisoner in the Blackmoon pack, surrounded by enemies who want to use me. But they don’t know one thing: I might be mortal now, but I still know how to bite back.

My twin brother and I were reborn at the same time.
In our previous life, he kicked me into the borderland overrun by monsters, while he went to enjoy himself in Radiant City, only to be exiled for his incompetence.
I reversed my healing power into killing techniques, building humanity's second-largest power amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood, only to be sacrificed in his jealousy, devoured alive by demons for seven days and seven nights.
This time, the carriage bound for the border stopped before me, and without hesitation, he pushed me toward the airship to Radiant City, eager to go to the border as the "savior."
Watching his impatient back, I almost burst out laughing.
Go, my foolish brother.
Do you think those bloodthirsty thugs of Shattered Stone Fortress would recognize you as their king without my self-created "healing backlash" in hell?
In this life, you'll stay in the hell you chose, and watch how I use healing magic to give this desperate world a "physical salvation"!

To save my wife’s family, I buried my name, wore myself down, and let a few strands of my hair turn gray while caring for her on the edge of death.

Three years later, she slipped into custom Chanel and slapped a divorce agreement down in front of me.

With her arm wrapped around a so-called old-money heir from Wall Street, she mocked me as a worthless nobody who couldn’t even afford a luxury handbag, a bottom-feeder who was never fit to stand beside her.

I signed my name without a word and watched her leave in triumph.

What she didn’t know was that the man preaching investments was nothing more than a Ponzi fraudster facing multiple charges.

And when the conference room door closed, Manhattan’s most feared ice-cold attorney bowed to me at a perfect ninety degrees and welcomed me to unlock the seventy-billion-dollar trust fund and take back control of the entire conglomerate.

A few months later, inside a women’s maximum-security prison in Brooklyn, she was dressed in a filthy, tattered prison uniform, sprawled across a floor slick with dirty water, sobbing as she was beaten and begging for my forgiveness.

I simply lifted my whiskey and calmly switched off the surveillance feed.

She loved him with all her three lives, only to be used and hurt repeatedly. When she returned to the wedding day for the fourth time, the phoenix refused to be trapped any longer. Betrayal ended, revenge arrived, and her destined dragon finally came to take her home.

I am Seraphine Marchwood. For five years, I gave every piece of myself to Alpha Veyron, convinced our mate bond was fated—until the night I accidentally overheard the truth.
He never wanted me as his mate. The entire proposed bond was nothing but a cover, a farce to hide his scandalous affair with Ophelia, the woman he actually loved. She was carrying his pup, and I was just the disposable, respectable shield to keep his reputation untarnished.
I ran that night, blind with grief and rage, until I crashed through the rotting beams of an old, rain-soaked ruin. The last thing I remembered before blacking out was the taste of blood in my mouth, and the sound of his voice calling my name, too late.
When I woke up, I didn’t recognize him.
And for the first time since I’d known him, he looked terrified. The cold, unshakable Alpha who’d cast me aside without a second thought was panicking, desperate, scrambling to bring back the version of me that had loved him more than anything—even as a new, unforeseen path began to unfurl before me.

I woke up back on the night Rhys’s Blood Tide Frenzy hit.
This time, I wouldn’t offer my blood to calm him. Instead, I sent an urgent Message Crystal to Seraphina—his precious white moonlight.
In my past life, I saw Rhys’s Blood Tide spiraled out of control, threatening to tear his body apart.
In my past life, when he commanded me to call Seraphina, I had let my pathetic, unrequited love blind me.
I offered my own body as the cure, desperately weaving the Origin Blood Seal with him.
Not long after, I fell pregnant with his half-blood child.
He had no choice but to plan our wedding. On the big day, Seraphina was ambushed by blood hunters.
She sent ninety-nine distress blood signals, yet he was tied up with wedding duties and never saw a single one.
After his beloved nearly died, he laid every ounce of blame on me.
When I went into labor, he locked me away in the Blood Dungeon. He drained every drop of my Origin Blood in a ritual meant to resurrect Seraphina, leaving me and our unborn baby to die in agony.
As my life slipped away, his words echoed in my ears: I’d ruined his one true love, and both me and the child deserved to perish.
When I opened my eyes again, I was right back to that night.

Humans aren't supposed to survive carrying a vampire's child. The immortal blood drains you dry.

Valentine was a pureblood vampire Duke. I was just a mortal. But I was stupid enough to think love was stronger than biology.

Four years ago, I tore myself apart on the birthing bed to bring a half-blood into this world, only to wake up staring at Valentine’s back.

His late father’s favorite concubine, Cecilia, had already snatched my baby from the cradle. And my husband acquiesced to it all.

"He looks just like me," Cecilia purred, tracing my newborn's cheek. "Thank you for giving birth to my son."

Then she tossed a blood jade onto my sheets, like I was some cheap baby-making machine.

I didn't take the payoff. I grabbed the heavy stone and hurled it straight at Valentine’s face.

For four agonizing years, I fought to get my baby back. I hired mercenaries, rogues, and shadow-smugglers, bleeding myself dry to breach the Duke’s estate. Every single attempt failed.

Until tonight. A terrified servant smuggled out a whisper that stopped my heart: Cecilia had fed my son "diluted holy water"—a twisted sacrament meant to literally burn the human half out of his organs.

I didn't hire anyone this time. I tore through the gates myself. I took a guard’s spear through the shoulder and let cursed brambles shred my arms to the bone, just to drag my dying boy out of a burning greenhouse.

But when the agonizing pain of the holy water woke him, Luke looked at me with pure, unadulterated disgust.

"It’s your fault! It’s your filthy human blood!" My four-year-old son spat the words like venom. "Mother Cecilia says if we just burn out this curse, I can be the true heir! If it weren't for you, Father would have claimed me by now! I hate you!"

I froze.

When I finally spoke, my voice was a raw, inhuman scrape. "Call me Mom one last time, and I'll walk out of your life forever."