1433 Book(s) Related to look at me scary true story

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instead of helping me up, Sloane gasped:

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

Liam looked mortified.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I flew downstairs and pounded on the door.

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

A pregnant woman appeared behind him.

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

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

My world shattered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The room went quiet. Ethan's expression hardened.

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

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

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

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

His eyes were bloodshot. He answered through clenched teeth.

“Just you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He doesn’t trust anyone.”

“I know.”

“Then why does he trust you?”

I don’t have an answer.

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

But Cassian trusted me.

And that changed everything.

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

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

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

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

Now the past is catching up with us.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She forgot to mention that the guests were dead.

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

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

Unfortunately, my ghosts disagree.

They've decided he's my perfect husband.

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

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

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

Then one evening, one of my ghosts disappears.

By morning, the others insist she never existed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I jumped from the church balcony.

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

This time, I said yes.

Dante, from now on, we're done.

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

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

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

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

“What if Claire finds out?”

Nathan wiped her tears away.

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

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

I rested a hand over my stomach.

What a joke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, they kicked me out of the house.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What about last time?" I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't bother," I said.

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

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

My daughter Lily was shot dead while she was performing on her own stage.
I rushed forward to shield her, and a speaker crashed down onto my right shoulder. The bone shattered.
My husband, Vincent, “shot the gunman dead” at once and sealed off the entire opera house.
When I woke up in the hospital room, the pain almost suffocated me. My right shoulder was wrapped in thick bandages, and when I tried to raise my arm, all I felt was a numb.
“…This isn’t what we agreed on.” The doctor’s voice was low and unsteady. “We only needed her blood sample for matching. Why did it have to go this far?”
“Lily’s blood type is a perfect match. This is the best possible outcome,” Vincent said. “I married Elena for this moment. I’ve been waiting for it.”
The doctor was silent for a few seconds. “But she’s your daughter… There’s no need to sacrifice a life, even if she is a Salaceno.”
Vincent cut him off. “You know how long an artificial heart can last. Camila’s daughter won’t hold out for long. I can’t put her through another surgery.”
“Camila’s child is the one I should cherish.”
At that moment, my blood ran cold. In his eyes, my daughter was nothing but an organ container.
He had no idea. All that talk about protecting his precious daughter—she wasn't even his.

In bed, he gripped my hips, whispering, "Principessa." In public, he was Cosimo—the ruthless mafia don who dismissed me with an icy, "Piccola."
For three years after he bought me, he never touched me. But a year ago, when Caterina returned, everything changed. He became a man possessed, tearing my dresses to shreds in the dead of night, claiming me with wild fury. He even promised to marry me in seven days.
On a storm-drenched afternoon, clutching my positive pregnancy test, I rushed to his private club to surprise him.
But as my hand touched the doorknob, Cosimo’s cold warning drifted through the door.
"Marcellino, know your place as a double. My things—especially Serenella—are strictly off-limits."
My blood ran cold. I peeked through the gap.
Cosimo sat on the sofa, completely indifferent. And by the pool table stood a man with a face identical to his.

My husband is an angel on an earthly trial. Every time he feels something for me, he endures divine punishment — like his chest is being ripped open from the inside.

But he told me he'd take that pain gladly, as long as it was for me.

He left a mark on my collarbone. Activate it when you're in danger, he said, and I'll rip through anything to get to you.

I believed him.

Then came a mission where I got grabbed by an armed fugitive gang and held in an abandoned warehouse for three straight days of torture and abuse.

No water. No sleep. The tendons in my hands and feet cut one by one.

Half-dead, I used the last of my strength to activate the mark.

And I heard him talking to his angel companion.

"Beckett, why did you give those people Demi's location? You know what they'll do to her."

He didn't even flinch. "She'll be fine. She's the Chosen One — she can't die. They were going after Macie. I didn't have a choice. Once this mission's over, I can petition to stay on earth. I'll make it up to Demi. She gets it."

So that's the price of being understanding. Dying inside a trap he built for me.

My heart just shatters. And I stop fighting.

To help his life-saving benefactor, he personally pressed a pregnant me on the operating table to draw bone marrow.
I cried and begged him, "James, I'm pregnant. It's your child. Don't do this to me..."
But he had a look of disgust in his eyes. "Elizabeth, you'd lie about something like that just to get out of helping Mandy?"
Until there was a river of blood in the operating room and that unformed child turned into a pool of bloody water, he finally panicked.
Later, when he knew that the person who saved him in the fire ten years ago was actually me, he held my ashes and knelt outside the operating room for a full three days.

My adopted sister, Cordelia, conspired with her biological mother to harvest my organs alive, yet she had the audacity to claim I paid thugs to rape her.
My biological parents didn't bother to ask for the truth. They cursed me, calling me a vicious bastard, and threatened to break my legs.
My fiancé, Caspian, coldly announced the cancellation of our engagement, declaring he would marry the very murderer who killed me.
I had been dead for exactly three days. No one cared. My body was rotting back in a moldy storage room.
Through it all, my soul was trapped in the manor, forced to witness this absurd farce.
But what they didn't expect was that when they finally learned of my death—
Everyone went completely insane.

Six months ago, a deadly dose of ricin was secretly dropped into my drink. The toxic substance has been relentlessly destroying my body ever since, and my time is nearly up.

Today, my physical strength has completely faded, leaving me with only seventy-two hours to draw breath.

On the brink of my impending death, I gave in and consented to give my remaining kidney to my sister. Overflowing with joy, my fiancé pledged on his allegiance to our crime family that he would spend his remaining days making amends to me.

When my sister faced trial before the mob council for embezzling millions from our illegal bank accounts—a scheme she executed using my financial blueprints—I stepped into the chamber and took full responsibility for the crime.

My parents offered warm smiles, expressing relief that I had finally grown into a dutiful daughter. Through their eyes, I have at last become the ideal soldier and bride for our family.

So why will they be weeping uncontrollably when they stand over my icy, lifeless body?

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.]

When Carol Bennett caught her long-time boyfriend cheating, she didn't cry or beg. Instead, she exposed the scandal online, turning him into a viral disgrace overnight. Then, without looking back, she agreed to a marriage of convenience with Ethan Mitchell, a powerful billionaire suffering from a terminal illness—her estranged father's carefully arranged match.
On their wedding night, Ethan handed her a cold-hearted prenup and warned her not to expect love, money, or a future. Fine by Carol. She played her role perfectly, calling him "husband" with a sweet smile while keeping her heart locked away.
But the aloof CEO who once wanted nothing to do with her is now the one chasing her. One kiss, one glance, and suddenly he's breaking his own rules.
"Carol, kiss me."
She smirks, her fingers trailing along his collarbone. "Falling for me already, Mr. CEO? Looks like you're the one breaking the contract."
Who would've thought the dying billionaire would end up begging for a second chance?

The craziest thing I've ever done? Agreeing to Mason's idea—sex in the middle of nowhere.
But then his first love called, and he left me stranded out there. Alone. In the dead of night.

In her past life, Arabella Oberon was the lowest-ranking member of the Oberon family.

She genuinely took in Regina, the butler's daughter, only to be constantly manipulated by this cunning and manipulative woman.

Regina gradually stole the love from her three brothers.

Arabella was forced to give Regina blood transfusions time and again, her weight plummeting to a mere eighty-eight pounds.

Ultimately, under the relentless pressure from her brothers, she jumped out of a window in despair and died. Her last words were,

"What about Regina's blood transfusions?"

When she opened her eyes again, Arabella found herself reborn three years earlier—the very day Regina appeared at her doorstep crying, begging for help.

Looking at the pitiful, tearful girl before her, Arabella smiled.

No more soft-heartedness.

No more groveling.

Instead, she "kindly" arranged for Regina to move into the servants' quarters, to earn her own living through honest labor.

Faced with her brothers who sided with her, she no longer bothered to please them.

And towards her former fiancé, Theodore, whom she had once fawned over, she remained cold, distant, and indifferent.

Moreover, in this life, they would discover that her identity was far more than just the eldest daughter of the Oberon family.

“You’re dripping,” he groaned. “You hear that? You’re making a mess all over me.”


He's the school's willful billionaire bad boy— hot, tall, handsome who made her fall and loosen herself for him just to find out it was all a lie.

A bet.

Well, two can dance a tango, right?

A comeback is all she needs. One that would make the so-called dangerous bad boy fall to his knees.

It wasn't just a game to him.

What if there's something more…

A facade he's hiding behind?

WARNING: Contains strong vulgar languages, sexual scenes, erotic contents, triggering situations, and lots more.

Isla Spencer stopped believing in home after her mother died.
Living in a house where her father adored another daughter more, she learned to make herself small, quiet, forgettable—until the day fate gave her something of her own.
Coel Reese, her mate, and a future she could finally belong to.
She loved him. When a rogue attack left him in a coma, she gave everything to keep his bloodline alive, only to end up catching him cheating with her stepsister.
And the child growing inside her? Not his.
A clinic error had implanted her with the sperm of Logan Vale—the most powerful, most feared Alpha in the territory.
One mistake. One contract marriage. One man who now owns her future.
Logan Vale wanted his heir, while Isla wanted a chance to build her own life.
When Cole and her family tried to destroy her again, she was no longer the old Isla Spencer.
She is a Genius doctor with a formula that could change everything.
And now, everyone who ever underestimated her will regret it.
Including that untouchable Alpha.

Everything she believed in was a lie.
Keira and Alden were Chosen Mates who built the powerful Stormfang Pack together—until she discovered their Mate Bond was a witch's illusion, and the child she raised was actually his with his true Fated Mate, the Omega Rena.
Broken and ready to leave, a secret letter reveals she is the long-lost daughter of Mooncrest Pack's Alpha, the sole heir to a legacy she never knew.
As her dormant Alpha blood awakens in rage, she vows to reclaim her birthright.
But when Kaelan, the cold and calculating Alpha King, approaches her and claims, "You are my Fated Mate," Keira is thrown into deeper confusion.
Why would he say that? And in a world built on deception, can a bond that begins as strategy ever become real… or is it just another layer of the game?

Wale never expected the world he built to crumble. One drunken night with his staff, Maya, led to a scandal that forced him into a marriage he never wanted. Behind closed doors, he promised his true love, Kate, “I’ll get rid of her in a year.”
For a year, Maya tried to win Wale’s love, enduring his coldness and distance, but he remained emotionally locked away. Just as he was about to hand her divorce papers, she revealed a shocking secret—she was pregnant. Wale, torn but still set on leaving her, abandoned Maya on the day she went into labor to be with Kate. In a cruel twist, a devastating accident claimed their baby’s life.
Devastated and broken, Maya confronts Wale with a chilling finality, “Congratulations, Mr. Wale. My baby’s gone. I want a divorce. You’ve taken the last reason I had to stay.”
For the first time, Wale feels something he’s never experienced—fear. Fear of losing the woman he dismissed for so long. But now, as Maya walks away, he’s faced with the hardest question of all; is it too late to win back the woman he pushed away? And even if he tries, can Maya ever forgive him for the pain he’s caused?