939 Book(s) Related to 5 letter word that ends in outh

In my previous life, an endless polar night and frost-laden corpse tide swept through the entire city.
My wife and I took in her mother and younger brother out of familial obligation,
But when monsters attacked, they locked us outside the shelter and we were torn apart alive.
Opening my eyes again, there are only seven days until doomsday arrives.
My wife and I have reached a consensus—to hell with blood being thicker than water!
This time, we will build an icy tomb for them with our own hands at the highest point of this city.

I burn through eighty years of my life raising three dogs that turn around and tear into me.

My vampire husband, Damian, used to be an outcast covered in festering sores, cursed to fear the sun. I cut my wrist and gave up thirty years of my life so he could become the most powerful man among the bloodlines, in control of half the world's wealth. Cold and ruthless to everyone else, he only ever bares his fangs for me.

Knox, the werewolf boy I grew up with, was born with a genetic flaw that kept him from ever shifting. I gave up another twenty years so he could have the strongest bloodline of all. Wild and reckless, he used to swear he'd carry me on his back for the rest of his life.

Julian, my human brother, got burned beyond recognition saving me from a fire. I spent my last thirty years giving him back a face people would pay a fortune for. He used to send crates of his paintings to my room, the kind of work people would kill to own.

Then a woman named Daphne shows up, and all three of them lose their minds over her.

And somehow I become the jealous, vicious wife everyone wants gone.

She cries that I pushed her, so they drive blades of blood straight through my bones.

She says I'm cruel to the staff, so they break my legs in front of a crowd.

And when I'm dying, they drain my blood to keep her alive.

If you're all going to treat the life I gave you like trash, then I'm taking it back. The strength, the face, the life. All of it.

[God, I take it back. I want everything I gave them returned to me.]

After ten years off the radar, I show up to a class reunion in a worn-out jacket.
To my classmates, Blake is the untouchable winner—money, power, a single word and everyone raises a glass. I’m the loser: broke, jobless, here for a free meal and maybe a handout.

They don’t know Blake isn’t a finance prodigy. He’s a money-laundering drug lord the feds have been tailing.
And they don’t know I’m not here to beg—I used to do the CIA’s dirty work in the dark. Now I wear a different name, and I specialize in finishing what others can’t.

When police lights seal the building and the signal goes dead, Blake locks the doors and turns everyone into leverage.
In that moment of panic, they realize the truth: on this floor, I’m the only one who can set the rules with Blake.

The chieftainess returned from the poisonous fog with a swollen belly.
She announced that she carried the child of a god—a child who would bring hope to the entire base.
Only I knew that what she bore was no divine offspring, but a demon that would devour every soul in the base.
Because in my previous life, I was the one it had gnawed to death, alive...

"You will be married to the King of Grok on the fourth night, and that's final!"

I fell to my knees, the cold marble digging into my skin. I had studied for years in the flickering candlelight, memorizing every herb and poison to pass the healer's exam. I wanted freedom. I wanted to save my mother from the servant's quarters. I placed second. I thought I had won my life back.

But the King didn't give me a badge of honor. He gave me a death sentence.

"Raven Thorne shall be wed to the King of Grok," he announced, his voice echoing in the silent hall. Princess Ellie, the woman who had tormented me for years, slapped her hands over her mouth to hide her cruel laughter. She was supposed to marry the Beast. Now, I was the lamb being sent to the slaughter in her place.

They say King Liam drinks the blood of his enemies. They say he is more monster than man. And now, I have to walk into his bedroom, wearing the Princess's silk gown, and pray he doesn't tear me apart.

I looked at the King, tears streaming down my face. "I'll do it," I whispered, my voice trembling. "But my mother must be safe."

I sold my body and soul to a monster to save her. But when the carriage door opened and I finally looked into the Beast's golden eyes, I realized the terrifying truth...

He wasn't a stranger. He was the man I met in the woods.

"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."

Dema never expected her new job to end with a marriage proposal from her billionaire CEO.
But with the tabloids destroying his family's reputation, Rami needs a wife—fast.
One year, a quiet divorce, four million dollars. That's the deal.
Thrown into a world of luxury, scrutiny, and impossible expectations, Dema struggles to keep up while Rami treats their marriage like another business arrangement. Yet beneath his cold rules and perfect composure, something unspoken flickers between them.
Just when Dema begins to wonder if their pretend marriage is becoming something real, she overhears a late-night phone call that makes her blood run cold.
Because maybe she wasn't chosen.
Maybe she was used.
And maybe the deal was never the real trap.

"I look better in the wedding dress. Your ugly fiancée can't compare to me, right?" "Of course, you do. You look way better."
Standing right outside the bridal fitting room, I watched my fiancé, Alexander Blackwell, hold his mistress in his arms.
The very wedding dress the woman wore was the custom-made designer gown meant for my own wedding next month.
For seven long years, I gave up my youth and poured everything into Alexander, turning him from a nobody into a tech billionaire.
He always thought I was just a helpless orphan who had nowhere else to go, blindly confident that I would never dare to leave him.
He had no idea that I was actually one of the heirs to the top-tier Sterling family in London.
When he finally realized what he had lost and desperately tried to beg for my return, I didn't look back.
Because I ran into Theodore Morrow—the city's most powerful, ruthless billionaire CEO, and the childhood fiancé whose heart I had broken when I called off our engagement years ago.

Rhett’s voice cut through the quiet, low and absolute.
“You’ve been shifting in that chair for twenty minutes, Beau. Stand up.”
Beau’s jaw flexed. “I’m fine.”
Seth leaned forward. “Don’t lie to us. We can smell how wet you are from here.”
Dean’s tone was quieter, but the heat beneath it was unmistakable. “The suppressants are still failing, aren’t they? Show us.”
Beau’s throat worked. Then he stood, the scrape of the chair loud in the room.
Rhett stepped behind him first. “Good boy.” The praise was soft, dangerous. “Seth. Check how ready he is.”
Seth’s hand slid between Beau’s thighs. “Christ. He’s dripping. Look at that. You need us that bad already?”
Beau’s voice came out strained. “Don’t—ah—don’t say it like that—”
Dean moved closer, “We’ll say it however we want. You’re ours when these doors close. Spread wider.”

I am the boss of the Southside Syndicate, and I have spent my life hiding a biological condition that would ruin me.

I present as a dominant Alpha to the criminal underworld, but my body violently forces me into submissive heats.

I survive by taking dangerous suppressants to hide my physical cravings from the men who would overthrow me.

However, a violent territory dispute forces me to negotiate a merger with the Northside Triad, requiring me to live inside their secured estate.

Rhett, Seth, and Dean are the most lethal Alphas in the city, and they immediately notice my medication failing.

When my suppressants completely stop working during an attack, my greatest fear is realized.

I expect them to destroy me when they find me begging for release.
Instead, the three men decide to claim me, forcing me to balance my public role as a ruthless boss with my private reality as their submissive partner.

His fingers traced down my side, slow and teasing, until he reached my thigh, he gripped it hard and lifted it higher around his waist, the change in angle had me gasping as I felt the hard nudge of his very hard and well sized shaft.
"You're sensitive, " he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction.
I wanted to give a reply, show him I was still in control but damn it, he moved and he pushed that little monster inside me with deliberate, frustrating slowness and it was like the room tilted.
"Oh my……"

The day Emilia lost everything, she met a mysterious man who she ended up having a passionate night with, but it only left her longing for more.
Little did she know, her forced wedding was about to bring them together again.
But this time, as brother-in-law and sister-in-law. Torn between duty and desire, Emilia must decide: resist the attraction or give in to her heart's desire.

In my last life, the heatwave collapse began with me turning an abandoned warehouse into a safe zone. I stocked it, fortified it, and brought my girlfriend inside. That same night, she slid the bolts open from within and let an armed crew storm the place. They threw me out to die.

I survived the heat, only to learn too late that it was just the warning. The real purge came next, when brutal cold hit overnight and froze me to death in the snow.

Then I opened my eyes and found myself back one month before disaster.

While everyone else rushed to buy water and fans, I was the only one who knew the heat was just the beginning. The deep freeze was what would really wipe people out.

This time, I explained nothing. I poured everything I had into diesel, insulation, winter stoves, generators, and turned that warehouse into a fortress built for the cold.

She came again, just like before. This time, I never let her through the door. So she ran straight to the armed gang and had them surround my warehouse for three full days.

She thought trapping me inside meant she’d already won.

What she didn’t know was that in just a few more days, the freeze would arrive.

And the people outside had no fuel, no winter gear, no way to stay warm.

They weren’t waiting for me to break.

They were waiting for their own deaths.

In this prestigious North American university, I was just a lowly physical education teacher, working long hours and being bossed around.
No one knew that two years ago, I was a special forces legend, codenamed "Tyrant," who climbed to the top of the dark web, stepping over the corpses of countless enemies in the abyss of hell.
I thought I had washed the blood off my hands.
Until that day, the only ordinary female student I cared about was lured into a black market industrial park on the Balkan border, facing a butcher's chainsaw.
For five million dollars to save my life, I was willing to swallow all my pride and bow to the school's richest family.
But what I got in return was public humiliation and a beating from the powerful.
They laughed at me, calling me a weakling, saying my life was less than that of a lowly dog.
Watching the video showing only five hours left of life and death, I snapped the spine of the richest man's bodyguard with my bare hands, tearing apart the docile mask I had worn for two years.
Crossing half the globe to storm into a heavily guarded, lawless land?
It had been a long time since I'd stretched my muscles.
It seems the world has forgotten why this dark jungle, filled with warlords and evil, still cannot bear to hear my name!

At my boss's mother's funeral, I couldn't hold back my laughter, and as a result, I was treated as a lunatic, stuffed into a garbage cannon, and launched naked into an apocalyptic forest full of zombies. Everyone thought I was doomed, but they didn't know—I had been reborn 1,001 times. Unarmed and surrounded by the zombie horde, about to be torn to shreds, in desperation I clung to the last clue... When I finally uncovered the truth that could overturn everything, I laughed from the bottom of my heart. This time, I would personally end this greatest lie.

Four years ago, I got mauled by a rogue wolf saving my Beta husband Derek. The attack left me unable to carry pups.

He held me that night, covered in my blood, and swore through tears that kids never mattered to him anyway.

Four years later, he's sleeping with Paige, a she-wolf I took in out of kindness six months back.

"Every family needs an heir. You can't give me one, so Paige offered. Just accept it and keep being my mate."

Paige, eyes brimming with tears, insisted she only wanted to repay my kindness. The baby would call me mother. She'd never try to take my place.

I almost laughed. Since when does anyone repay a favor by climbing into bed with the man who took her in?

I refused. He brought my parents and my brother into it to force my hand.

I didn't waste another word on him. I severed the bond and moved my whole family out to Moonhaven Pack on the coast.

Turns out nobody leaves a single she-wolf alone, no matter where she goes. Thugs kept showing up outside my door, stirring up trouble.

Right when things get unbearable, a big guy shows up out of nowhere and beats the group of them into running for their lives.

He's tall, scars all over his arms. He looks me over for a long moment, then says, "I need a wife to look after my two kids. Marry me. I'll protect your whole family."

My son Emery scored a perfect SAT and got early admission to MIT Physics. Eighteen years old. His future was limitless.

My billionaire husband Reid's assistant—his mistress in everything but name—suggested Emery attend some garbage local business school instead. Inherit the empire. Fall in line.

Emery said no. Reid exploded.

He locked my son in the lumber yard and ordered him to split five tons of oak. "No water until he's done. That'll teach him respect."

The sun was brutal. My son's asthma attacked. I knelt before Reid's mistress and begged for his inhaler while Reid crushed my right hand—my surgeon's hand.

I got the inhaler and ran back as fast as I could.

But I was too late. My son was already dead.

They call me the "Savior," building altars for me amidst the ruins.
But they don't know that when I climbed out of the abyss, I had no intention of saving this species whatsoever.
I am not here to rebuild civilization; I am simply calculating exactly how many souls I must reclaim to fully awaken my Ark.

My mother-in-law was a spoiled and soft woman.
Fifty years old and she couldn't book a rideshare. Couldn't pick up a package. When the breaker tripped, she cried into a video call to her husband and her son.
The whole family agreed on it. Her only skills were clinging and being adorable.
Then I bled at nine weeks and took myself to the ER.
The OB who picked up my chart was my husband's best female friend. Sable.
She saw me, photographed my chart into their med-school group chat, and hit record.
"Come look, everybody. Dog's wife. Pregnant five minutes and already bleeding from bed."
"Twenty-eight and she's already a geriatric pregnancy. You've got to pace yourself, honey."
The whole room laughed and looked at my stomach.
My face burned white. My nails went numb in my palm.
Thirty minutes later the door hit the wall.
My mother-in-law, the woman who covered her ears in her husband's arms over a tripped fuse, walked in on four-inch heels.
Behind her: hospital administration, the compliance office, and the sitting Chief of Obstetrics.
She pulled the chart out of my hand without lifting her eyes.
"Twenty-eight is advanced maternal age? Normal physiologic fluid, and you called it too much sex?"
"Dr. Smith, is your mouth that filthy because your brain's been marinating in locker-room jokes, or did your ethics get eaten by a dog?"

On the way to the hospital to deliver my baby, rain was coming down in sheets.
Suddenly, my husband slammed on the brakes. He'd spotted his ex-girlfriend standing in the downpour with her child.
"She's struggling as a single mom. I'm just going to help her carry those groceries upstairs. Ten minutes, tops."
Clutching my belly through the contractions, I begged him, "But I'm about to give birth. I'm in so much pain."
He just locked the car doors with a click, his voice sharp with annoyance.
"Sarah, can you try to be a little more empathetic? She's soaking wet."
In those ten minutes, my water broke. Desperate to survive, blood on my hands, I crawled out through the back hatch.
While I was fighting for my life in the ER—
His ex posted a snapshot.
In the video, my husband was gently toweling off her hair. The caption read:
[So glad you're here.]

"I want you to fuck yourself. Long… deep and slow. Because I know it will be my face that you will see when you come." These were the words Elias Miles whispered into Chloe Bennett's ear, shattering her professional composure and reminding her that the man who owned the company also owned her every desire.

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Chloe Bennett thought she had found the perfect escape when she spent a wild, anonymous night in Boston with a handsome stranger named Lio. Twelve months later, she lands her dream job in New York City, only to discover that her "Lio" is actually Elias Miles the notoriously cold, arrogant, and breathtakingly powerful CEO of Miles Media.

As Chloe navigates the treacherous waters of corporate espionage and high-stakes media wars, she must decide if she can handle the "all-or-nothing" intensity of a man who refuses to be second to anyone. With a rival media mogul breathing down their necks and a past that refuses to stay buried, their connection is tested by secrets, scandals, and a deep-seated fear of commitment.

Can Chloe Bennett break through the ice around Elias’s heart, or will this high-powered world of luxury and lies tear them apart for good? Does Elias Miles truly have a heart, or was Chloe just another stopover in his life?

When Iris went to prison for her boyfriend, she discovered that he was about to marry Alpha's daughter.
It turned out that he had been using her all along and then abandoned her...
Iris fell into despair, but unexpectedly, she crossed paths with Marcus, Alpha's son and her former patient.
She became her ex's brother-in-law's wedding companion?! The most notorious playboy in the Pack?

Riley
New name, new look, new life. I've been careful to keep my past at bay. The last thing I needed was the stranger with those calm discerning eyes to cross my path. I must avoid him at all costs, even if he haunts my dreams and sends waves of heat across my skin. My focus is survival, not lust. Not even if he ignited a longing I'd never thought possible.

Draven
A mission. Find the missing girls and bring the perpetrator to justice. The retributive kind. I've grown used to the shadows but I am drawn to her light. Moth to a flame, the only way to quell my curiosity is to satiate it. But not too much. Not completely.

TEASER:
You want me, don’t you?” A simple question that warranted a simple answer.
“Should I have had you checked for a head injury?” he scoffed, a swift blow that knocked the wind out of my lungs and I realised I had been holding my breath. My lips parted, and my chest heaved, working overtime to replenish my body’s oxygen from those few moments of starvation.
Steeling my spine, I stepped forward, invading his space, oblivious to the eyes that were thrown our way. Or was I imagining that? Draven didn’t budge, a perfectly shaped brow elevated as he considered my movement with little interest. There wasn’t a single flicker of emotion to cross his features, not even that Godforsaken misleading smile made an appearance.
“Then you’ve no reason to threaten any man I may find interesting.” I breathed the words slowly, erotically.

Stacy was a brilliant and beautiful girl in her days in Hillary High School, Everyone want to be friend with her.

She is one of the hottest girl in the School. She was indeed the Queen in the Hillary High.

Her Parents were business Tycoons. So they were super dopey Rich.

They were not always home and not always available though they provided her with more than enough money.

She sometimes lack parental care and this has always sadden her, she never got the love and attention she needed. She was a genius, always taking the First position.

She had a lot of admirers, boys always trying to woo her but she declines them and hates to be pestered. But Luckily that's gonna change as a matter of time.

It was a new day in Hillary High School. This day was the day of Resumption. Stacy was now in Grade 11 {SS2}, she had done well asusal in collecting most Prices at the Price giving day Emerging as the Overall Best Student, but she is ignorant of a New Rivalry.

As Stacy been the goddess of Hillary High.

One day, came a god

His name is.

My best friend pushed me out of the bunker to be fed to the zombies.

Before he died, his grandfather's pocket watch activated a storage space.

When I opened my eyes again, the apocalypse was still three days away .

My fiancée sent me a photo ; she and my brother were naked and embracing.

"In this life, it's your turn to die."

To win a smile from my icy wife, I stood for four hours in a London blizzard, only to be greeted by her returning hand-in-hand with her childhood sweetheart, who had just returned from abroad.

For three years of marriage, I had concealed all my sharp edges, solely to warm her heart.
Until company secrets were leaked, and she unquestioningly believed her childhood sweetheart's framing, locking me, who suffered from severe claustrophobia, in a dark, abandoned wine cellar for a full forty-eight hours.

Watching her arrogantly slam the "Clean Break Agreement" onto my bleeding face, I smiled.
The moment I signed my name, the humble Arthur who loved her died utterly in the abyss.

That night, my yacht ran aground and exploded.
And the first heir of the Vance conglomerate, missing for three years, officially took control of the global technology lifeline.

Six months later, betrayed and facing bankruptcy, she clung to my trousers like a dead dog on the red carpet of a top-tier banquet, weeping and begging me to start over.
I was arm in arm with a true socialite, and I didn't even lift an eyelid as I looked at the woman covered in mud on the floor:
"Security, throw this crazy woman who's dirtied the carpet away. Don't spoil my fun."

In my previous life, I ran a barbecue restaurant to support my family for ten years, but my parents secretly sold the restaurant to a gang because of my younger brother's vanity in wanting him to study abroad.
An hour later, the apocalypse began, and my little shop became a god-level safe house—
Those with superpowers who enter the store have their abilities automatically copied to the store owner; the store is absolutely safe; the store owner decides who enters and who leaves.
My family ruined my amazing little shop, and they scolded me, saying, "Who told you to be unable to keep the shop?"
I was heartbroken and torn to pieces in the mouth of a zombie.
In this life, I was reborn back to an hour before the shop was taken away.
I must protect my shop!
As for those so-called family members—let them fend for themselves in the apocalypse!

I thought my friend had returned my BMW with an empty tank.
That was annoying.
Then the car started driving like it had a safe tied to the back.
My mechanic checked everything: tires, brakes, suspension, computer codes. Nothing made sense until he opened the trunk, lifted the floor panel, and found a canvas-wrapped mass jammed into the spare-tire well.
He looked once and nearly dropped his flashlight.
“Evan,” he said, “step back and call 911.”
I had lent my car for a blind date.
Somehow, I got it back with a police investigation in the trunk.

“Eight hundred million. Pay up, and your son lives.”
The Rogue’s voice on the other end of the line was cold as steel.
“Or are you really going to let your own blood die over a little money?”
Stella’s reply was chillingly calm.
“Do whatever you want.”
She turned, pressing down on her father’s trembling hand before his pen could touch the page—
the deed of their ancestral lands, the very foundation the Moon Howl Pack had guarded for generations.
Her father’s face went pale with shock.
“Stella! You love Dean more than anything… That boy is his only heir. How could you be so cruel?”
She gave a bitter smile, but not a word, before walking away with finality.
Blood-stained memories from her past life surged through her mind—
She had once loved Dean blindly.
The moment she heard their son was kidnapped, she never questioned it.
She emptied the pack’s vault, forced her father to mortgage their territory… and in the chaos, her mother’s illness returned and took her life.

“I’ll die in ten days without my second chance mate…just claim me, Asher… before it’s too late.” I pleaded.

“If I do, I’ll never love you again. That's worse than you dying…”

Banished. Cursed. Unclaimed.

Phina thought being chosen as a mate by a powerful Alpha would save her. Instead, she was used, betrayed, and thrown to the wolves—literally. Now cursed to die unless she's claimed within ten days, she's dragged before the one wolf feared by all: Asher, the ruthless Rogue Alpha King.

When their eyes meet, sparks fly. One word seals their fate: “Mate.”

But Asher is cursed too—one night with any woman, and he loses all ability to love her. He fights the pull. She begs for survival. Every moment burns with forbidden heat…
Until desire wins.

Will claiming her break the curse—or destroy them both?

"Sophie Patterson. Don't you dare walk away from me." Logan's menacing stare bore at me. I suddenly didn't feel drunk anymore. I sobered up quickly.

"What, Logan? You're gonna tell me that you suddenly love me again? That you're here to sweep me off my feet? Please! I didn't need you all this time, and I don't need you now." He clenched his jaw, fisting his hands.

"Enough. Stop being so damn stubborn. You know I do. I love you. I never stopped loving you, Sophie. It was always you."

I left my hometown hoping to never see him again. I left with his baby still inside of me.

Seven years after, and here I am again. Standing before him and a six-year-old wanting to know who his dad is, and asking me to marry him because everyone in his class but him and his best friend don't have a daddy.

What am I supposed to do with all these feelings that are resurfacing? I'm realizing every day that I never got over him. I merely suppressed my feelings, and his telling me this now- to my face, just made things more complicated.

"You will keep teleported back if you choose to want to be with him, remember it!" The kindest man turned into a villain.

"I won't lose you to him again!" The ruthless man turned into soft.

In between them, Choi was bewildered to choose her right future partner.

While she was anxious between them, her family members tried to kill her for the property that was going to be her.

Who will she choose? And the teleportation will keep turn the table again and again to make her life worse?

Let's see in the chapters!

In the end-stage of acute heart failure, the life-saving heart I had waited three grueling years for was secretly reallocated by my parents and husband to Sera, the "true" daughter of the family.

My heart turned to ash. I refused the doctor's final conservative treatment plan and injected a potent, lethal neuro-stimulant.
The price for blocking the agonizing pain of my failing heart was total cardiac collapse and death in three days.

In these three days, I gave up all arguments and resistance.
When Adrian impatiently threw down the divorce papers, I signed them without hesitation; when the daughter I raised with my own hands pushed me away in disgust, hiding in Sera’s arms and calling her "Mommy"; when I handed over the Foundation I had spent eight years building entirely to Sera—they didn't even notice my paper-white face.

They only looked at me with relief and said, "If you had been this sensible earlier, our family wouldn't have gotten so ugly."

I am very curious. When I am dead, what will they think then?

I was cruising leisurely down a desert highway when three Harley motorcycles pulled up behind me, claiming one of their crew was injured.

I pulled over to help — and they stole my truck.

I called the police — and the cops arrested me as an accomplice.

I found my husband's vasectomy certificate while sorting medical bills. The procedure was done a year ago. But I was six months pregnant now.

I stared at the date on the paper and my hand just... stopped. I kept checking it again and again, but it was still the same. I was freaking out. I looked down at my bump showing through this baggy sweater, and my hands started shaking.

I got in my car and drove straight to my husband's private club. I needed answers about this, now.

In my previous life, I was cruelly exploited by my wicked stepmother.
Not only was I drained of my military discharge money, but I was also driven into a subterranean warehouse that could collapse at any moment.
In darkness and despair, I was frozen to death by a cold wave that dropped surface temperatures to minus 60 degrees.
The moment I opened my eyes again, I had reincarnated back to three days before the outbreak of the cataclysm!
Staring at my stepmother's face, which was filled with greed and harshness, I wasted no words, threw on my heavy coat, and marched straight toward the underground warehouse.
For I knew that with sufficient supplies and energy, this nuclear-grade subterranean warehouse would become the ark of the apocalypse!

irectly in front of me.
Only the night before, she’d been curled up in my arms, her warm fingertips brushing my collarbone, our bodies tangled in tender, loving intimacy.
Yet the toe tag fastened around her ankle was etched with cold, unflinching words: Su Wan, Female, 22. Cause of death: fatal fall from height. Time in morgue custody: 365 days.
She had been dead for an entire year.
Just what in the hell was the woman who’d gasped beneath me night after night, who’d lived beside me day in and day out for six whole months—the woman I’d called my girlfriend?

On the day the apocalyptic flood swallowed the city, I died on a fractured overpass.

The man who crushed my fingers under his boot was my brother-in-law, the very man I had sacrificed everything to support. And standing safely out of reach, watching coldly as the muddy torrent swallowed me whole, was my supposedly sweet and devoted fiancée. In her arms, she fiercely clutched her "son"—who was hoarding the last of my survival rations.

In the very last second of my life, she nestled into the arms of her ex-boyfriend and left me with a single, contemptuous sneer: "Let's go. Forget about this useless trash."

It turned out that working my fingers to the bone and emptying my life savings had all been a pathetic joke—a long con orchestrated by a pack of bloodsucking parasites.

But when I opened my eyes again, I had returned to exactly one year before the apocalypse began.

My fiancée was standing there, holding a cup of hot coffee and sweetly begging me to invest another million into her brother's business.

I just smiled, gently pushed her hand away, and turned around to liquidate every single asset to my name. With that money, I secretly constructed a state-of-the-art, deep-sea underground fortress.

Later, when the monstrous floodwaters inevitably tore the city apart, they stood on the balcony of their doomed mansion, desperately falling to their knees and begging my icebreaker for salvation.

Sitting inside my perfectly secure command cabin, I took a leisurely sip of hot coffee and softly gave the order:

"Open fire. Don't let this trash dirty my deck."

"Margaret has face blindness—she won't even recognize the groom. Tomorrow's ceremony? Just stick any random guy up there with her. Isabelle, I'll marry YOU in the rose garden. Our real wedding."

I stood outside my bedroom door the night before my wedding, listening to my fiancé Theodore plot with my adopted sister, my own parents nodding along.

They thought I was broken. A defective bride too blind to know she was being played.

They wanted a stand-in groom? Fine. I'd give them one.

So I gave them their fake wedding. With one little change.

The "random stand-in" they're expecting? He's Theodore's worst enemy. He's Sebastian Kingsley.

Oh, and according to the marriage certificate we signed three hours ago—he's also my husband.

My sister climbed out her window the night before her wedding. So my family pinned her veil over my face and sent me in her place.
I'd been her stand-in my whole life — same face, same hair, the daughter they could afford to lose. Nobody looks twice at a bride behind a veil.
The Falcones figured out I was a fake before the vows. They broke my hand for the insult. And the don himself — the man this whole city only says quietly — took one look at the mess they'd made of me and told them to throw me out with the trash.
Then his eyes dropped to the locket my dead mother left me, lying on his marble floor.
And the most feared man in the city went very, very still.
He had no business knowing my mother's name. So why did he say it like a prayer?

Dad was in critical condition and had just been wheeled into the operating room.
My husband—also Dad’s attending surgeon—was nowhere to be found.
I stood in the corridor in my pajamas until past midnight, hands shaking as I kept calling Jason.
When the call finally connected, a sweet, girlish voice spilled through the speaker:
"I’m watching the Eiffel Tower lights with Jason!"
A male voice followed, impatient and familiar—Jason’s:
"Is it her again? Ava, tell her to stop calling. The lights are about to go out. Can she stop making a scene?"
A chill sliced through me. Before I could speak, the line went dead.

I thought I was the woman David couldn’t live without.
For our marriage, I gave up my career to stay in the kitchen, learning to cook all his favorite meals, and I endured every bit of hostility from his family without complaint.
I thought that was what love looked like—quiet devotion, two people growing old together. Until our third wedding anniversary.
During the World Cup final broadcast watched by millions, I saw him in the stadium stands… kissing my younger sister.
By the time I made it home, Lily already had my house key in her hand, standing in my own home like she had every right to be there.
“Don’t you understand?” she whispered with a smile. “You can’t even give him a child. What makes you think you deserve to be his wife?”
David didn’t stop her. He didn’t defend me. He just watched. And let it happen.
What they forgot was simple. That house? It was mine. Not his.

I killed my fated mate to survive.

Beta Shax Wulfric was the pack’s most ruthless hunter, sent to drag me back in chains. So I ended him. Or I thought I did.

Months later, he finds me again. Alive. Amnesiac. And utterly convinced I’m his wife… and the child in my arms is ours.

Now the monster who once rejected and humiliated me looks at me like I’m his entire world. He touches me like I’m something precious.

If he remembers, he’ll kill me.
If he doesn’t, I might fall for him all over again.

When the apocalypse came, I became one of the military's failed experiments—defective, useless, a waste of space who only knew how to fix machines.
My so-called brother Kane used the camp leader access I got for him to trade away the comms gear I nearly died to secure for a bottle of whiskey. He drained my bone marrow dry to keep me in the dark, then dumped me out in the wasteland to die.
After that, he pinned every bit of luxury and waste on me—
while my little sister didn't even have the medicine she needed to stay alive.
That night, dragging my crippled body behind me, I reached into the substation.
Kane, do you remember what kind of genes were in those five hundred milliliters of bone marrow?

Krystal Hunter died with a broken heart, a knife in her back, and one regret—she finally won the damn lottery right before she died. Ten million dollars, untouched, deposited in the bank… wasted.
Or so she thought.
Because when Krystal wakes up in a hospital bed—very much not dead—the world has gone to economic hell. The global economy has collapsed, the dollar has depreciated into dust... and her forgotten bank account?
Now worth one hundred billion.
With the world burning and billionaires falling like flies, Krystal is no longer the girl they betrayed. She’s richer than empires, hungrier than ever, and back to collect what she’s owed—with interest.
Ex-lovers, fake friends, and bloodthirsty siblings beware:
She died once. She’s not dying quietly again.

A deliciously savage romantic revenge comedy about wealth, power, payback, and kissing someone hot while the economy collapses.

My Husband Died to Join Me I begged him to see me. He didn't. He believed her. Every word. I died in my bedroom. When I woke up, no one could see me anymore. She stole my husband. My home. My son. Then she painted me as insane. Everyone believed I was the monster. But there was a hidden camera. When he finally saw the footage, he broke. He avenged me. Then he made one last promise. This time, he came to find me.

In a realm where werewolves, lycans, and vampires battle for dominance, the balance of power once rested in the hands of the pureblood werewolf royalty—being born of untamed strength, speed, and the magic of the old gods.

That balance shattered the day the vampires slaughtered the royal families, aided by a traitor and an innocent mistake—a young pureblood girl named Sky, cast out, sold like livestock, and forgotten by history.

But fate does not forget.

From being a pleasure slave to a ruthless noble, to being hunted by vampires and hidden by a lycan prince, Sky's journey is paved with betrayal, passion, and suffering. When she’s sold once again, this time to the cursed Alpha King, a tormented ruler bound by rage and ancient poison, she becomes his only hope for salvation

The day before my engagement to my fiancé, I discovered I was a fake heiress.
And now, the real young lady had returned, and I was being sent away to the poor countryside.
But unlike what they said, my biological parents weren't poor country folk—they were the wealthiest family in the nation!
And I owned top-tier farms, a mysterious jewelry studio, and was a hidden tycoon who could shake up the entire business world.
My fiancé, who had looked down on me, was now crying and begging me to marry him.
He came to me with photos: "Pretending to be greedy, pretending to be ignorant, when you're actually a top-tier mogul? My fiancée, you've deceived me so thoroughly."

I accidentally entered an S-rank horror dungeon, but thought it was some immersive dating show.

Facing the bloodthirsty Ghost King BOSS:

Others: Begging for mercy.

Me (blushing): Those pecs, that battle-damaged look—where did they find such a gorgeous contestant? I'm obsessed!

When he tried to strangle me, I touched his hand. "You're so cold, let me warm you up~"

Ghost King: ???

Facing the psycho doctor with a chainsaw:

Others: Screaming and running.

Me (swooning): Doctor, those beautiful fingers are meant for piano, not chainsaws. Be sweet and put that down!

Doctor: ...

Facing the flesh-eating demon:

Me: Raw meat isn't healthy! Here, have some chocolate instead!

Seven days later, the dungeon collapsed.

Me, waving goodbye through tears. "Even though it was acting, you became my family!"

Seven days before the apocalypse, my vampire parents forced me to hand over three million to buy a house for my baby brother in full.

As an actuary, I knew that order would collapse in seven days and the money would become worthless. So I not only readily agreed, but also used their family's records as collateral to raise millions in high-interest loans, building an impregnable, top-secret fortress.

Seven days later, an unexpected change occurred.

The debt-collecting gangs and the endless horde of zombies drove them to the brink of despair. Meanwhile, I sat in a temperature-controlled safe house, sipping freshly ground coffee, calmly watching the cannibalistic karmic retribution unfold on the security camera.

In the apocalypse, there is no family affection, only the probability of survival.

At 2:17 a.m., I woke up five hours before my wife was supposed to die.
In my first life, my mother told me the two million dollars I had entrusted to her was gone. By the time I found enough money for my wife’s emergency surgery, I had lost her and our unborn child.
This time, I froze every account before my family could take another cent.
Then my mother called.
She needed $180,000 by morning—and she was willing to let my wife die to get it.

My henchman, drunk, accidentally revealed he was a reincarnated individual, claiming that the apocalypse would arrive in nine days and he would kill me to seize all my wealth.
I laughed.
I'd been a pirate king for ten years; what storms hadn't I weathered?
I not only emptied his treasure chest that he considered his for the taking overnight, but also used his money to buy up all the survival supplies in the city.
When the apocalypse truly arrived, he could only kneel on the zombie-infested shore, watching helplessly as I sailed towards the absolutely safe island paradise.