8695 Book(s) Related to holes in the sky the sean miller story

Michaela never imagined that one night would change everything. After a passionate ons with Andreas—her best friend but her sister’s fated mate—she wakes up in shock, envisioning a new future. But soon after, she loses almost everything—her parents, friends, pack, identity, and the love she once dreamed of—except for the child growing inside her.
Five years later, Andreas tracks her down. How could she find a way to resist the powerful Alpha who hates her so much, all while protecting the fragile life she’s built？Can she protect her child and herself well? What follows is a tangled web of love, betrayal, and vengeance.

When Beryl were heartbroken finding her boyfriend cheating on her with her step-mum, the triplet billionaires appeared, claiming to be her mates. They fall for her, hard. She slept with one of them. But she doesn't know whom. Worse, she’s pregnant. She: Who's my baby's father?! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Already heartbroken when her father died, Beryl was devastated when she found her boyfriend f*ucking her step-mum at the parking lot of the funeral. What's more shocking was the billionaire Armand Lupine's sudden appearance and his hot triplets claiming to be her mate. And what is mate anyway? Forced to live with Armand and the triplets, Beryl uncovered the realm of the werewolf's world. Though Armand cherishes her, the triplets, star hockey player Nicholas, world-famous painter Brian and rock star Cheney always took every opportunity to make fun of her. Are they really Beryl's mates? With them around, can Beryl return to the ordinary human life as she wished?

On your birthday, you find out your boyfriend’s been hiding his billionaire heir status—and worse, he’s got an arranged fiancée.
Heartbroken, you almost end up having a steamy night with his father.
And your boyfriend still wants to win you back and accidentally drags you into the world of werewolves.
To your shock, you discover you're the Fated Mate of both the Alpha father and son.
Now, they both want you. The choice is yours.

As a poor student from a single-parent family, Katie was disdained by others, especially some students in Class A who had high self-esteem and pride in their school-Augustus Lupine Academy, the best elite university in the country. Katie majored in Business Administration, which was the best in this university. Business Administration was divided into Class A and Class B. Class A gathered the top elite students, which was unattainable to everyone. Katie won a scholarship for poor students to study in Class B. No one knew that Katie was secretly dating with Draven for three months, who was at the top of Lupine, the son of a tech billionaire, and the dream lover of all girls in school. Three months later, Draven suddenly disappeared. Katie went to Class A, but Draven denied their relationship. Katie was hit by a blow, and was pulled to a party by her bestie Cathy. She accidentally had a one-night-stand with a man who looked a lot like Draven. The next day, Katie left in a hurry, suddenly knew that her mother was about to remarry someone. Katie's mother introduced Katie's future stepfather and his two sons to her. Katie was surprised that her two stepbrothers were her ex Draven and one-night stand Adrian.

After the brutal betrayal by her mate and her own sister, Julia never expected to end up in bed with her notoriously difficult Alpha Boss, Ronan. Now, to protect her job, she has no choice but to keep it a secret.
Thankfully, Ronan hasn’t realized the woman from that night is right under his nose. Just as Julia starts to relax—she makes an even more shocking discovery: she’s carrying Ronan’s pup...

She thinks she’s going to die alone as a virgin, but she could get her cherry popped by one of my friends… It was a win win. But why did I still feel that tug in my heart warning me that it was a bad idea?***

My heart was pounding fast, the blood rushing through my veins increased their pace and became hot… much too hot for me to handle. Her freaking scent…

I lean in closer, and I see the heat flush on her cheeks when I press my hardon close to her. My hands further travelling up her smooth stomach, up her chest. Her lips, swollen and wet from my kisses and bites.

Fuck mate bond, I want her! Now!***

Keira was an ugly wolf-less she-wolf who was bound to die alone. Or was she? That same Keira happens to be Raiden’s mate, son of the Alpha. But Raiden bluntly rejects her at a party where he learns they were mates after getting intimate with her.

She is heart broken, depressed and emotionally drained after being rejected and then she was pregnant for the Alpha and this pushes her into making the decision of living among the witches. They actually accept her in their home and she takes them all as family and swears her undying loyalty to them.

Years goes by and with a beautiful daughter, Naomi, her previous heart break turns to rage and she returns to Blood moon’s pack for revenge. But what’s this? The Alpha wants her now?

As the Mafia Princess of her familia, Eleanor is more than ready to secure her family’s future through her marriage with another Mafia don's son. But right before her engagement party, Eleanor catches her fiancé cheating and claiming she “lacks feminine charm.”
Heartbroken and furious, Eleanor ends up seeking comfort in the arms of the bodyguard who punches her fiance to the ground that night.
The next day, Eleanor is determined to break off the engagement and reclaim her life, but her powerful mafia father has other plans.
To keep Eleanor in line, her father assigns a bodyguard to shadow her every move.
A bodyguard who turns out to be the man she spent the reckless, unforgettable night with.
Now Eleanor is trapped between a fiancé she refuses to marry, a father she cannot escape, and her dangerous, mysterious and attractive bodyguard...

Six years ago, Tara was abruptly dumped by the man she loved—Kade. Soon after, she discovered she was pregnant and gave birth to a daughter, Abby.
Now a single mother, Tara is desperate to save her sick child. When Abby develops a mysterious illness no doctor can explain, Tara moves to a new city in search of treatment—only to meet Soren Hawthorne, a powerful man who unexpectedly offers her help.
Life finally seems to turn in her favor…
Until the truth comes out.
Abby is a half-wolf.
Soren is an Alpha werewolf.
And Tara is his fated mate—a human he can never accept as his Luna.
Worst of all?
Kade, the man who abandoned her, is Soren’s best friend.
Fate has returned—and this time, it won’t let her go.

My husband announced his second mate on the night I planned to announce our pregnancy.
He called her his destined Luna.
I called her a homewrecker.
But when his new mate caused me to lose my baby, Tristan didn’t even look back.
So I left.
I thought losing my mate was the end of my story.
Until the most feared man in the werewolf world caught my scent.
“Mine.”
Damon, the mysterious head of Wraith, was my true mate.
And the moment he claimed me, Tristan came crawling back.
Too bad this time, I was no longer the Luna he could discard.

They gave him 24 hours to hand over the girl.
He gave them 30 seconds to regret .

Jack Cole was supposed to be nobody—just another quiet college student.
No records. No past. No trace he ever existed.

But when a powerful family tries to take his cousin as part of a dirty deal…
and a billionaire heiress becomes the target of a professional kill team…

Something buried comes back.

The campus?
Just his cover.

The truth?
He’s a weapon trained for war—
the kind governments deny, and enemies never see coming.

Now the richest family in the city wants him dead.
A private army is moving in.
And a global biotech empire is pulling strings from the shadows.

They think they’re hunting him.

They’re wrong.

Jack isn’t running.
He’s choosing who dies first.

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.]

Every night when my daughter comes home, she looks different.
On the first night, a little of her hair was gone.
On the second night, she was missing one hand.
On the third night, half of her body had vanished.
I jolted awake in a sudden start, thankful it had only been a nightmare.
Right then, my daughter came back home.
A patch of her hair was missing.

I spent five years letting men degrade me at a club, all to save $300,000 for my blind brother Joren's eye surgery.
The day I finally raised the money, I excitedly told him he would be able to see again—only to discover he was never blind to begin with.
My husband’s "bankrupt" company had been thriving all along. My parents, who supposedly died in a plane crash, had been living luxuriously abroad.
My husband even took my "stillborn" daughter and gave her to my adopted sister.
My entire family conned me for five years to "teach me a lesson"—all because my adopted sister claimed I bullied her.
Now, they are forcing me to donate my liver to the woman who stole my life, threatening that I'll never see my biological daughter again if I refuse.
But what they don't know is that I have terminal liver cancer, and I only have two days left to live...

Four months pregnant, I walked into the OB-GYN clinic filled with joy—this was the child Archer and I had waited three years for.
But the moment the ultrasound report was handed to him, his gentle gray eyes twisted violently.
"Abort it. We absolutely cannot keep this child."
My stepfather watched coldly. The stepbrother who doted on me most slapped me hard across the face. My own mother wielded the scalpel and removed my uterus.
Half a month later, they picked me up from the hospital with roses, only to turn around and lock me away, feeding me psychiatric drugs until I died.
Reborn, I thought that as long as I hid the report, I could save my baby.
But they forced me onto the operating table once again.
It wasn't until I saw the report with my own eyes—
That I finally understood why my child had to die.

Dominic once told me he loved me—then leaked my intimate photos to the entire school, all to avenge his dead first love.
Seven years later, he discovered that I had given birth to his son, a child suffering from a failing heart.
He ended his engagement, found our son a donor heart, dragged everyone who had ever hurt me to my feet, and finally proposed as death closed in on him.
I put on the wedding dress and became Mrs. Moretti with a smile.
But he never knew that I had returned to his side for anything but love.

I was driving my dad's luxury car to pick up a friend when his secretary stopped me on the spot.
She mistook me for the lover who had sex with my dad in his office.
So she used car theft as an excuse to drag me into the basement, beat me up, and took nude photos of me.
When my dad found out, he asked me to apologize to her.
That's when I realized that in his eyes, his reputation mattered more than his own daughter.
If that's the case, he doesn't need to be the figurehead CEO anymore.

Eden Quinn has always played it safe—quiet, polite, painfully untouched. At 25, she’s still a virgin, living in the shadow of her vibrant older sister and a past she never quite escaped. But when she returns to her coastal hometown for Harper’s wedding, everything changes—starting with one drunken confession at a backyard BBQ: she’s still a virgin… and she’s tired of it.

At the Morello family’s Christmas dinner, I stood beside Vincent, waiting for him to announce our engagement.
Instead, in the very next second, he walked in holding a little boy and claimed him as his son.
And the woman he said he was going to marry? Scarlett Morello. The one he had always introduced as his “sister.”
The whole room erupted in applause. I stood there frozen, like a nail hammered into the floor.
Later, in his study, he took my hand and said, “Scarlett is dying. Late-stage breast cancer. She only has six months left. After she’s gone, I’ll marry you.”
But there was no guilt in his eyes. No love, either.
Then he told me to go to his villa that afternoon, to take care of the woman who was supposedly “dying.”
I opened the photo he sent me. Scarlett was lying in a hospital bed, pale-faced, an IV in the back of her hand.
A professional tennis player who had been playing in an exhibition match three weeks ago, and who had dropped three grand at Louis Vuitton on Fifth Avenue just five days ago.
But sure. She was “dying.”
At three in the morning, I was curled up by the front door of my apartment, crying so long I lost track of time.
Then my phone lit up. A text from an unknown number:
[Elena, I’m downstairs. When we were kids, you told me that once I controlled the docks on the East Coast, you’d marry me. The docks are mine now. Does that promise still stand?]
I pulled back the curtain and there he was. Ethan Vitale, my first love, leaning against the door of a black Cadillac, lifting a hand in a lazy wave.
Three years ago, when he left New York, he was only a Capo.
Now, he was the Don of the Vitale family.
He didn’t rush me. Didn’t pressure me to come downstairs.
He came for one reason only, to let me know he was back.
I wiped away my tears and texted back:
[It still stands.]
Because I wanted to see for myself just how long that woman could keep up her act.

On my birthday, my husband ditched me for his "innocent" adopted sister, mocking me as a useless housewife. He has no clue that I, Sophia, am actually "Sue"—the legendary designer his company is desperate to recruit!

Fed up, I slammed the divorce papers on the table, ready to crush his arrogance and expose his sister's lies.

But the moment I stopped caring, this icy CEO lost his mind. He pinned me against the wall, his eyes burning with dark obsession: "Sophia, trying to escape? Over my dead body. Tonight, I’ll show you exactly whose wife you are..."

"Lily, listen to me. Every IVF cycle you went through was a lie. James was injecting you with experimental fertility drugs—unapproved, illegal. You were a test subject. The baby… it's not even genetically his."
Her world shatters with those words.
After twenty failed IVF treatments and four years of heartbreak, Lily Collins finally has everything she's ever wanted: she's pregnant with the miracle baby she and her husband James fought so hard for. But the man she married is becoming someone she doesn't recognize—controlling, secretive, and increasingly dangerous.
When James strikes her for the first time, Lily tells herself it's the stress. When he isolates her from friends and monitors her every move, she convinces herself it's concern for the baby. But when she discovers he's been lying about their fertility treatments, she realizes the father of her unborn child might be hiding something far more sinister than she ever imagined.
Meanwhile, across the city...Alpha werewolf Ace Winters has spent years searching for his destined mate. When the bond finally calls to him, leading him to a pregnant woman living in fear, his protective instincts roar to life. But his mate is human, fragile, and already running from one dangerous man. One wrong move could send her fleeing forever. One right move could save her life.
Two men. One woman. A baby caught in between.
As Lily fights to uncover the truth about her husband's deceptions, she has no idea that her salvation might come from the mysterious stranger watching over her or that accepting his protection will thrust her into a world where fairy tales are real. Love can be written in the stars.
But first, she has to survive long enough to discover that monsters don't always look like monsters...And heroes don't always look entirely human.

I was his adopted daughter, yet I crawled into his bed.

"A woman delivering herself to my door... guess what a normal man would do?"

The legendary cold-faced Marcus pinned her naked body down, leaving traces of their intimacy all over the villa.

After the pleasure, the man humiliated her in every way possible. "Get out. Get rid of the baby."

Later, Emma vanished completely.

Marcus didn't believe that the woman who loved him to the bone would actually leave him.

Until he saw his pregnant adopted daughter with his own eyes, holding another man's arm, appearing right in front of him...

My wife loved watching me get jealous.

She said the more it bothered me when another man got close to her, the more it proved I loved her.

So every year on our anniversary, she let her best friend, Julian Hale, take my place as man of the house for a few days. Then she and her friends placed bets on how long I would last.

The first year, Julian wore one of my custom suits without asking and posed for pictures beside her.

I told him to take it off in front of everyone. Vivian kissed me and laughed, saying she knew I couldn't live without her.

The second year, she gave Julian the master bedroom and sent me to the guest room.

I told him to get out of our room. Only then did she open the door and say it was just for one night.

Last year, she brought Julian to dinner at her parents' house, sat him in my chair, and let her mother and father call him their son-in-law.

She did not come after me until I stood up and walked out.

"It's just a word, Owen. You're really going to make a thing out of this?"

This year, they went further.

Julian rolled his suitcase into our house and held up a new set of keys in front of all our friends.

"Viv says I get to try being man of the house for seven days. You're not going to be mad, are you?"

Vivian hooked her arm around his shoulders, her eyes bright with anticipation.

"If he really loves me, he'll be jealous."

Everyone was waiting for me to explode the way I did every year, so she could laugh and announce that the game was over.

But this time, I went upstairs and packed my things.

Before I left, I placed my wedding ring and my house key in her palm.

"Seven days isn't long enough."

"He can have my place. For good."

I am originally of royal vampire bloodline.
But because of one sentence from my adoptive father, I hid in the human world for decades.
The Church called me a "filthy heretic" because vampire blood flowed in my veins.
Yet they burned a blind girl to death, her crime being that she "couldn't see."
They burned an old blacksmith to death, his crime being that he wanted to learn medicine.
They burned a young mother to death, her crime being that she refused to be violated by the captain of the holy knights.
Bathed in holy light, I realized for the first time—
The demons... are in the light.

I've been married to billionaire Joseph Miller for three years. Pregnant three times. Aborted three times.

Every time, my husband stood outside the operating room, watching them wheel me in.

The first baby, my mother-in-law Victoria said had spinal deformities. The second, my father-in-law Richard showed a "report" claiming heart defects.

I believed them. I thought it was my fault, something wrong with my body.

Until the third pregnancy.

This time I secretly went to another hospital—DNA showed 99.9% match with Joseph, every prenatal indicator perfect.

I rushed home clutching the report, thinking I could finally save my child.

Victoria glanced at it and tossed it on the coffee table. "You are carrying a healthy baby. But the Miller family doesn't need it."

My in-laws forcibly dragged me to the clinic. I screamed to Joseph for help: "That's your child!"

His eyes were red, but he still let them kill my baby.

Desperate, I demanded a divorce. He coldly refused, tearing at my clothes: "Stop being dramatic. Time for the fourth."

I finally understood—I wasn't his wife. I was their breeding machine.

But why? Why force me to keep getting pregnant, only to kill every healthy baby?

Until that night, I pushed open the attic door that had been locked for three years—

And finally understood everything.

For seven years, Rose Bennett was Ryan Knight’s secret wife.
While all of New York believed Samantha Hikk would become Mrs. Knight, Rose silently endured a cold marriage to a man who never loved her.
Until one night, Samantha is rushed into Rose’s emergency room pregnant… and Ryan is the one protecting her.
That is the night Rose stops loving him.
What Ryan never knew was that Rose had already given birth to his daughter years ago after he rejected both mother and child without hesitation.
So Rose walks away—with only two suitcases, a hidden daughter, and the shattered remains of seven years.
But the woman Ryan abandoned is no ordinary wife.
Rose is the hidden genius behind Aetheris Medical AI, the revolutionary system about to change the entire medical world.
As Rose rises to the top, becoming untouchable, powerful, and impossible to replace, Ryan finally realizes the devastating truth—
He didn’t lose a woman who loved him.
He lost the only woman he would ever love.
And by then, even their daughter no longer calls him father.

In the sixth year of my life as a Scale-Stripper, I finally gathered the hundredth vial of Dragon Breath Essence.

I knelt before the altar, cradling the crystal bottle in both hands. The golden light swirling within it cast a warm glow across my scarred knuckles. Six years — six years of wandering the most dangerous battlefields of the Five Clans and the plague-ridden wastelands, using dragon breath to heal the wounded. For every person I saved, I had peeled away a living scale from my own flesh, baring the raw, bleeding meat beneath.

Seven scales left on my back.

Only seven.

But as long as it saved my brother Lucien, it was worth it.

Six years ago, during the Dragon Slaughter War, our parents had been assassinated by humans. An ancient curse had struck Lucien; his scales were crumbling away, day by day. He told me that only a hundred vials of Dragon Breath Essence could break the curse.

I held the crystal bottle out to him, my voice trembling with barely contained emotion. "Lucien, a hundred vials. We finally have enough."

Lucien took the bottle and glanced at it.

Then he tossed it off the altar without a second thought.

I went rigid.

Lucien stood at the top of the altar.

"I was never cursed," he said.

My hands were still cupped in the shape of holding the bottle, all ten fingers suspended in midair.

"Our parents never died, either."

"The Dragon Slaughter War six years ago, I planned it. The only one left crippled, with broken wings, was you."

I barely spoke a word before I turned six. Behind our backs, he townsfolk whispered that some foul thing had sealed my tongue.
The first time I truly spoke, I was pointing at our neighbor, Emily.
She was flying a kite just outside our fence. Floating right above her head was a stark, blood-red number.
"Three."
My mom poked her head out of the kitchen, asking if I had just spoken.
I nodded and pointed at Emily again.
By the time they looked, the girl had already run off.
Three days later, Emily was struck and killed by a turning delivery truck at the corner of our street.
After the funeral, my parents held me tight and swore it was just a coincidence.
The second time was when my grandmother, Eleanor Hart, was hospitalized for a stroke.
Dr. Grant took off his glasses, his tone brutally calm. "She is in terrible shape. The family needs to prepare for the worst."
I stood at the end of the hallway. Above my grandmother's head, the number flickered like a slow-burning fire.
"Two hundred and forty."
Claire clamped her hand over my mouth.
Daniel went pale. He knelt down, his voice a harsh hiss. "Sophie, shut up! You cannot say things like that out loud."
Grandmother did not die that night.
After being brought home, she miraculously began to recover. She even spent her afternoons listening to the radio in the sun.
Until the two-hundred-and-fortieth day. She passed away in her sleep.
That was when my family finally understood exactly what my numbers meant.

Six months ago, a yacht explosion consumed everyone I loved: my husband Leonard, my parents, and my brother.
I escaped only because of stomach pain that kept me from boarding. My adopted sister Claire became the sole survivor.
Since then, I've become an empty shell.
Even after being diagnosed with terminal uterine cancer, even while carrying my late husband's child, I've endured the agony of chemotherapy alone, exhausting what little strength remains to scrape together money for Claire—who hides away in a private care facility, claiming severe PTSD.
Until this winter day, with a blizzard approaching.
Dragging my dying body to my husband's memorial to pay respects, I discovered a credit card statement—charges made three months after his death.
Following the address on that receipt, I pushed open the door of a luxurious suburban villa.
Inside, it was warm as spring. My parents and brother, who should have been at the bottom of the ocean, stood there perfectly alive.
At the center of the room, my husband—the man I'd grieved for day and night—was kissing my adopted sister, his lips tender against hers.
The whole family was celebrating, raising glasses to toast the infant cradled in Claire's arms—barely a month old.
There had never been any disaster at sea.
It was all a meticulously planned hoax—their twisted way to erase me from their lives forever.

For ten silent years, I propped up a boy named Lycan—the least favored Alpha heir in his pack. Everyone said his bloodline was too thin, that he didn’t even deserve to compete for succession.

So I paved the way with money, used resources to help him awaken his bloodline, sent him to the best academy, and made sure he not only secured the position of pack’s new Alpha, but also crossed into the human world to become an Oscar-winning actor hailed by millions.

Tonight was his coronation and his Oscar night rolled into one. I sat in the shadows of the audience, watching him grip the trophy, debonair under the spotlight, genuinely happy for him. When his gaze skimmed across the crowd and landed on me, my chest warmed.
Did Lycan…notice me?

The next second, he faced the camera and spoke, frost-cold:
“I want to thank someone—she taught me what harassment really is.”

I'm Elena. My mother died when I was 10. After that, my dad married my mom's friend, who was his secretary too.

And now I'm lying on her son's arm. I never thought he would do it with me. Paul was on me while I was staring out the window of the car. He was quietly sleeping. I was stroking his hair and singing a poem that Mom had previously recited. Suddenly, the surroundings lit up slowly. So it'll be dawn soon. I put my voice down. He was still clutching me tightly in his sleep. I attempted to loosen his grip.

Ahh! In anguish, I closed my eyes. My lower back and lower body were in excruciating pain. I gently rested his head on the seat and smiled at him. I softly called his name, "Paul." "You know how much I love you," I added. "But now it's irrelevant to me," I said as I stroked his hair. "Are you sure you love me?" "Then you gave me the ability to hurt you, too." I kissed him on the lips as I said this. I got out of the car after giving him my farewell kiss. I didn't feel any pain. The stain on my back was already turned to black and crimson. I made my way to my room. It's already light outside.
[MATURED CONTENT]

"Mother,"
I opened my eyes. Everything around me is a haze. I gazed at the candlelight. It was wobbling from side to side. I noticed a woman seated near me, but everything was fuzzy.
I heard a voice unexpectedly. It was a woman's voice, echoing in my ear.
She was singing a low-toned lullaby.
"Mother, is it you?"
I heard my name, "Maxilin, I am here."
"Mother," I said with a tremble in my voice. I have no idea what's wrong with me.
I reached out cautiously to touch her, but she was out of my reach.
"Where are you, mother?"
"Oh, my beloved, try to hold me, come here, "
"Mother," Maxilin tried to stand up, but he was too weak. Maxi narrowed his eyes in an effort to see her face clearly, but he couldn't because everything was fuzzy. A woman in a white outfit moved in front of his sight.
Maxi took a few steps forward while still gripping the chair. "Mother, don't leave," he murmured, dizzily.
As he said, he saw in his fuzzy vision that someone had opened the door. "Mother, please don't leave me," Maxilin pleaded.
He let go of the chair's hold and dashed behind her. "Mother, don't leave me. Wait." In his frail state, he shouted and followed her.
"Huf".
In the middle of his path, he stopped. "Mother, you've left me here alone,"
"Maxi," he heard the voice unexpectedly. Maxi glanced up and looked around. It's all clear now, but he's stuck in the midst of the woods. He gazed up at the sky. A giant moon was staring at him, and a horde of deadly, voracious creatures were roaring around him.
"Son," someone touched his shoulder, he looked back, saw a terrifying creature standing in front of him.
"Hello, dear."

Lydia's POV

"The patient in Bed 7 has been here three months now, right? Not a single family visit."

"Her husband just pays the bills and leaves. Doesn't even look at her. Poor thing."

I lay in the hospital bed, listening to two nurses whispering outside my door. My fingers rested weakly against the edge of the mattress.

Three months ago, I was diagnosed with late-stage cancer.

My husband, Sebastian Carter, came once. He stood in the doorway—didn't step inside—signed the papers with a blank expression, and never came back.

Sebastian was a writer. He locked himself in his study all day, leaving me to spend night after night alone in the living room. We lived under the same roof like strangers from different worlds.

I'd grown used to this hollow marriage. I didn't even bother calling him anymore.

Footsteps echoed outside.

I turned my head toward the door. Sebastian stood there in his familiar charcoal coat, his face expressionless.

"You came." I was surprised. I forced myself to sit up, my body weak and trembling.

Sebastian didn't answer. He walked straight to the bedside and set a document on the nightstand. "Sign it."

I picked it up. The words at the top read: 'Divorce Agreement.'

I waited two years for a donor heart. When one finally came, my husband gave it to Odette Ashworth, the girl who had been living my life.
My cardiologist gave me one week. So I made arrangements to have my body cryopreserved.
And I donated it to the very lab where Odette worked.
The day I signed the papers, my son threw his arms around me and said he was so glad Mommy and Aunt Odette were friends again.
My parents told me they were proud I'd finally learned what it means to be a sister.
My husband smiled, relieved, and said I'd finally let go of my grudges and started being reasonable.
I smiled back. They were right. This time, I really had learned my place.
I was going to hand the Ashworth name back to Odette and give every last one of them exactly what they wanted.

"Let Aria have the Stanford recommendation. Quinn owes her."
I stared at the family group chat—the one I wasn't in—and let out a cold laugh.
In my past life, I went completely hysterical over this, only to earn my family's disgust and a miserable death.
Now, reborn and given a second chance, I looked at the room full of guests celebrating My success, and walked straight to the microphone.
"Everyone, the party is over. I'm turning down the Stanford spot."
Under my family's stunned gazes, I dumped my champagne into the trash bin.
This rotten family? I'm done with them.

The Percy Family Heir's Scandal Leaks Again!

Cecilia Davis sat curled up in the master bedroom, scrolling through photos of Edward Percy and Jessica Brown.

The photos were taken secretly, but from a sharp angle.

Through a car window — the two of them, going at it hard.

Cecilia let out a cold laugh, tossed the photos into the trash, and felt a wave of deep exhaustion wash over her eyes.

"Do I really have to cut it?"

"Ma'am, this is Mr. Percy's request. Only if you cut your hair as short as Ms. Brown's can we clear up last night's rumors. Of course, you don't have to go — that is, if you never want to see your brother again."

Edward's assistant Leo spoke with a dismissive air, not a trace of respect in his eyes.

As if she, the so-called Mrs. Percy, was nothing more than a joke that nobody needed.

And honestly, that's exactly what she was.

On a stormy night, a horrific crash unfolded on the overpass. The victim was brought to the city forensic center.
My husband, Ethan, slipped on his gloves and expertly examined my shattered body, his voice detached. "Record this: Female, approximately twenty-five years old, suffered severe trauma before death."
His assistant sighed. "That's rough. Not a single family member showed up."
Just then, the assistant slid a misshapen silver band off my mud-streaked finger.
"Sir, this ring... isn't it identical to the one you keep in your desk drawer?"
With a sharp clatter, the scalpel slipped from Ethan's hand and hit the floor.

To save for a future with my “broke” boyfriend, I spent my summer delivering packages. But one night in a wealthy neighborhood, I overheard him laughing with friends: “Me and Sophie? Just a fling. She’s not good enough for someone like me.” Stunned and heartbroken, I tried to leave—but his glamorous fiancée trapped me, mocked me, and humiliated me in front of everyone. When I finally told him it was over… that was the first time he panicked.

My name is Sophie Carter, just your average college junior.

I’ve been dating a guy who I thought was just as ordinary as me. His name is Ryan Lawson. He’s a year older, already out of school and working.

I believed in our future so much that I picked up a summer job delivering packages, just to help us save for a place of our own someday.

But everything shattered the day I drove into the gated mansions on the west side of town. That’s where I saw him—my “broke” boyfriend, Ryan.

Victoria discovered that I hadn't submitted any supplemental medical expense claims for two weeks.
She assumed I had finally been disciplined and had given up what she called "the exploitative nature of the lower class."
Little did she know, my backpack held the signed divorce papers and my mother's death certificate.
As I turned to leave, I was still wearing the discounted trench coat she'd casually given me three years ago when we got married.
What she didn't know was that I, a deep-sea geology genius from MIT, willingly endured three years of her humiliation and ridiculous rules, just so my mother could stay in her conglomerate's private hospital to prolong her life.
Now, my mother has died because of unpaid bills , and even her ashes are carried by me in a cheap canvas bag.
Now that my loved one is dead, there's no need for me to continue being her obstructive dog on Wall Street. The lives she owed with those approval forms, I will settle with the collapse of her entire conglomerate empire.

Three days before my wedding, I found a spreadsheet on my fiancé’s laptop.
It was called Operation Prank Nora.
Five years of my life, itemized and checked off. The fake terminal diagnosis. The fellowship I gave away. The condo I signed over to my best friend.
And one new row, still blinking: Fake wedding.
My fiancé. My best friend. My stepbrother. The doctor who told me I was dying. They’d built a group chat around my tears and a running bet on when I’d figure it out.
They thought I’d cry. They thought I’d hand Ethan to Maddie with my blessing, like a good dying girl.
Instead, I made one phone call to my wedding planner.
On Saturday, two hundred guests are going to see a slideshow.
I won’t be there to watch.

On the birthday I shared with my twin sister, my family threw her a party—and called my absence a tantrum.
None of them knew I was lying in the cellar beneath their feet.
With broken fingers, I'd sent my husband the one word he swore would bring him running from anywhere: Lighthouse. He called it a guilt trip and told me to be at the party by seven.
So they toasted my sister. They tossed my place card in the trash. They shoved my gift onto a closet shelf without opening it.
By the time they finally lifted the lid, it was far too late.

Three years ago, I gave my grieving boss $6,000 for her husband’s funeral. The office called me a fool in love. She called me into her office—and fired me.
Then Claire appeared in my city with a suitcase, an apology, and an offer to start over.
I almost believed she had come back for me.
Until I overheard her whispering to a sick child about finding his real father.
Claire hadn’t returned alone. She had twins, one of them was dying, and the man who could save him might be me.

My name is Jack Morris, a bottom-rung janitor on the docks.
Every day, people walk all over me, and I live on moldy bread.
Until one day, an old man I saved handed me a photograph. "This is my granddaughter. She's being held at the Black Swan Casino."
That used to be my place. Ten years ago.
Her father was a brother who died in my place.
I was once the king of the underground.
And now, at the banquet celebrating the tenth anniversary of my death, they're treating that old man's granddaughter like a toy.
If my disappearance only made those animals more brazen...
Then they can finish that drink and celebrate their own deaths next.

A gang boss ground my treasured staff into dust with one boot. “A gutter-bred bastard from the slums, and you’re hiding something this delicate? Cripple him. Let him learn who runs this turf.”
I stared at the silver-white powder on the floor. It was the last relic my brothers left me.
I once swore these hands would be used only to save people, never to kill again.
But today, even the heavens refused to allow it.
I lifted my head slowly. The elven ears I’d kept lowered in submission rose one by one in the dark, sharp as a wolf’s.
“You’re asking me who runs this turf?”
My fist snapped out and caved in the boss’s nose.
I twisted backhanded. Three elite enforcers had their bones shattered in an instant, collapsing like sacks of rotten meat.
I grabbed the boss by the throat with one hand and hoisted his two-hundred-pound body into the air, eyes cold as if I were staring at a corpse.
“Three years ago, when I laid down the rules in this district, you didn’t even know where you were playing in the mud.”
“My things are not for you to touch.”

After I retired, I was willing to do the dirtiest work at a small auto repair shop—just to give my sick daughter an ordinary childhood.
I endured my mother’s insults, my eldest brother’s wage cuts, my younger brother’s extortion.
But they actually joined forces to steal my daughter’s life-saving money for gambling, then sold me into an illegal mine to pay off their debts.
When the iron chain locked around my wrist, when my daughter cried in despair, the killing intent that had slept in my blood for three years finally woke up completely.
They had no idea I was once the iron-blooded God of War—commander of a million troops, the name that made enemy nations tremble.