1569 Book(s) Related to her revenge their redemption

For six years, Mara gave Elias her time, her labor, and her love. After a miscarriage, a broken heirloom, and one betrayal too many, she stopped asking him to see her pain. When he came begging for another chance, all he found was the woman she had become without him.

I was always a clingy girlfriend, something my online boyfriend seemed to eat right up. That is, until my brother's birthday dinner. I noticed his pretty-boy roommate's phone lit up the exact second I sent a text.

My brother chuckled. "She's been texting you non-stop all night. Doesn't it annoy you?"

The roommate barely looked at his screen. "Annoying," he muttered.

My thumbs froze over the keyboard.

For five years, my crime boss husband made me take off my wedding ring nine times—all for his precious damsel in distress.
When we first married, he promised me: "From now on, you're my queen, the queen of New Orleans."
But whenever Odette came crying for help, he'd change his tune: "Mr. Laurent saved my life, Cordelia. I owe his family everything."
And like a fool, I believed him eight times.
Eight times I watched from the shadows as he took another woman to our favorite restaurants.
Eight times I explained to the crew that our "separation" was just giving each other space.
Eight times I watched her move into my bedroom, use my dishes, sleep in my bed.
All for a man who kept making me slip off my ring, then slide it back on, over and over again.
Until the ninth time, when he said he needed to provide sperm for her fertility treatment, and I offered to leave.
He still thinks this is just another temporary break, expecting me to come crawling back in a month like always.
He'll never know I've already booked my ticket out of here.

In that luxury cruise ship fire that shocked the world, my husband Gordon Mercer—the ship's captain—pried open my bloodied fingers and fastened the last intact life vest onto his first love.
In my past life, he locked me inside the blazing cabin. First, the flames devoured me. Then, as the ship broke apart, the icy ocean swallowed me whole. I drowned in the depths.
When I opened my eyes again, I'd returned to that life-or-death moment—the ship about to sink, alarms tearing through the night.
Watching Gordon clutch that trembling woman in his arms, I didn't break down sobbing like before. I didn't beg.
Instead, I laughed coldly and threw the life vest at their feet.
"Since you two are so desperate to die together, go right ahead."

My fiancé has tried to kill me seventeen times.

Everyone says I'm cursed by the Moon Goddess. Five years, seventeen mating ceremonies—all ending in blood.

An eagle's talons through my spine. Poisoned wine that stopped my heart. Ritual flames that charred my skin. Each time, I survived. Each time, Kael Silverblade held my hand and swore it was fate's cruelty, not his.

I believed him.

Until the seventeenth time.

Blood moon. Three assassins. Nine bone blades cutting precise lines across my body—missing every vital organ, maximizing the pain. I writhed on the sacred stones, screaming until my voice broke.

Three days later, still wrapped in bandages, I heard him talking to his lieutenant outside the healing den.

"Lord Silverblade, she almost died this time. Maybe we should—"

"No." Kael's voice was ice. "Her brother saved my life. My grandfather swore a blood debt—a mating bond to repay it. But goddammit, I love Vira. I've always loved Vira. Not her."

Silence.

"Keep the accidents coming," he said. "As long as she won't let go, we keep going. She'll break eventually. She has to."

I pressed against the wall, tears streaming down my face.

Seventeen times. Not curses. Not fate.

Him.

The male I'd loved since I was sixteen.

But here's what Kael doesn't know—this time, he finally wins.

I won't survive the next full moon.

I was murdered. My body was dumped on the riverbank.
The detective leading the case is Brennan Carter — my husband. He has sworn to find the killer of this "unidentified female." He doesn't know the victim is me.
I've been missing for seven days. My colleagues and supervisors keep calling Brennan to ask where I am. Dismissing it as a tantrum, he's spent the week doing one thing: celebrating his mistress Tessa's birthday.
It wasn't until my phone turned up at the crime scene that it finally hit him — the wife he'd wished would disappear might actually be gone.

Grant postponed our engagement three times. First, because Vivian was in the hospital. Second, because she was feeling low. Third, because her concert mattered more than our future.

So I asked the man who’d always been there—Adrian Kessler.

“Are you interested in marrying me?” He said yes without hesitation.

We set the date for the same night as Vivian’s concert.

While Grant was clapping for her, I was walking down the aisle toward the only man who never made me wait.

He didn’t find out until he showed up to his own celebration dinner and found the restaurant empty. “Where is everyone?” he demanded. Someone laughed.

“Adrian and Nadia are getting engaged tonight. It’s streaming live.”

Grant stormed into my ceremony, screaming that I belonged to him.

Adrian knocked him down with one punch.

“You had three chances,” I told him. “You blew every one.”

Now Grant keeps sending me flowers, begging for another chance. But I’m wearing a pink diamond tiara designed just for me, standing beside a man who chose me first.

He postponed our engagement three times. I only needed one chance to marry the right man.

Seven years ago I gave up my inheritance and went door to door with Nolan—a broke director shooting street documentaries—my belly out to here, begging investors to take a chance on him.

Everyone said I'd thrown my life away on him.

Seven years later he's a name everyone knows. And Emily, the first love who walked out when he had nothing, is back in Chicago with her daughter.

That afternoon I came home early and heard him pull five-year-old Ivy into his arms: "You can't ever tell Mom that Daddy and Emily are having a fake wedding."

"But Daddy, Mom will be so sad..."

"Say one word and Daddy won't love you anymore. Got it?"

Her little shoulders shook as she nodded, and nodded.

Out in the hallway, I couldn't even be bothered to cry.

I dialed the number I'd kept blocked for seven years. "Dad—can the family plane still come get me and Ivy?"

Nolan, what you lost wasn't a housewife you could push around. You threw away the only person who ever made you her whole world.

After two years of marriage, I humbled myself to the dust, only to be called "scheming" by him. In his eyes, I was just a woman who crawled into his bed through dirty tricks, using children as tools, never comparing to his pitiful "sister-in-law."

When he disgustedly tore my clothes and roughly pressed me down, I tremblingly told him: "I'm pregnant!" But he sneered, saying I was acting. Even after I lost the child, he was still happily chatting with the perpetrator's family.

Finally, I was tired and exhausted. All my love and endurance meant nothing to him.

When I threw the divorce papers in his face, I thought it was the end, but it was just the beginning. When he gripped my wrist tightly, pinned me against the car door, and sealed my lips with a punishing, possessive kiss, I shamefully felt something... What does this man really want?

"Bite me." Chase Sterling's whisper was a blade against my skin.

I should pull away.
I should hate him.
But my wolf is howling yes while my heart screams no.

"Say stop," he breathes against my pulse, "and I'll stop."

Liar.

We both know he can't stop.
The bond won't let him.

And neither can I.


Ten years ago, they found my father with his throat torn out
on Silvermoon land.

The Sterlings called it "trespassing."
I called it murder.

They gave us hush money and a warning:
Keep quiet, or the Beta's daughter is next.

So I learned to be invisible.
To swallow my rage.
To survive.

Until someone slipped a note into my locker:
They lied about how your father died.


Chase Sterling.

Future Alpha. Golden boy. Untouchable.

The moment our eyes met, the bond snapped into place—
a collar I never asked for, a chain I can't break.

He says he didn't know.
He says his father is innocent.
He says he'll help me find the truth.

But every time he touches me,
I feel my father's blood on his hands.


Now I'm trapped between two impossible choices:

Accept the bond and betray everything I am.
Or break it—and lose the partner who can prove
my father's killer walks free.

The worst part?

When Chase whispers "mine" against my skin—
I want to believe him.

"I need a fake fiancée for three months. You live here. You attend events with me. You pretend to be madly in love with me, and you annoy my grandfather by simply existing. In return, you get this check today, and another one for the same amount when the contract ends."
He took a step closer. I could smell the champagne on him, sweet and sharp.
"So, Andrea Rostova," he said, holding the check out to me. "Do you want to go back to washing dishes and drowning in debt? Or do you want to play a game with me?"
Desperate to save her sick mother, Andrea agrees to become billionaire Maxwell Harrington's fake fiancée. What begins as a simple contract soon turns into something far more dangerous as fake kisses become real feelings.
But Maxwell's jealous ex manipulates him into believing Andrea betrayed him for money, and he cruelly throws her away.
Pregnant and heartbroken, Andrea disappears.
Four years later, Maxwell discovers the daughter he never knew existed. Determined to reclaim his family, he forces Andrea back into his mansion with one ruthless ultimatum: return to him for six months, or lose custody forever.
Now Andrea must decide if the man who destroyed her heart can truly become the man willing to protect her at all costs.

Rejected and humiliated on her bonding day by her fates mate, Omega Elara is cast aside for her pregnant twin sister. But the moon Goddess has other plans. Awakened as the legendary Fenrir Heir, Elara rises from the ashes with power that can scatter packs or forge an empire. When she forms a dangerous alliance with her mate's ruthless enemy, Alpha Darius, old flames and new desires ignite. Will she choose revenge or the bond that was always meant to be? A tale of betrayal, power, and fierce love

The world changed when the Black Tower appeared on every continent.

Inside the tower were floors filled with monsters, gods, curses, relics and hard trials.

People had to climb the tower to survive.

Many groups, called Guilds formed.

Some kingdoms even fell apart.

The strong people became the leaders.

Adrian Chapman was once the best climber humanity had.

Then he became the biggest traitor.

After reaching Floor 97 Adrian got betrayed by his friends.

He and his friends had been climbing together for twenty years.

They even killed him to get the relic called the Heart of Chronos.

Instead of dying

Adrian goes back twenty years into the past.

This was before the Tower even appeared.

This time he does not want to be a hero.

He wants to become the guy that every climber fears.

He will take all the relics for himself.

He will stop heroes from becoming strong.

He will control kingdoms. Conquer the Tower by himself.

He does not care if people call him a monster.

Seven days before the doomsday outbreak, the wild weeds by the road spoke to me: The zombies are coming.
I rushed home, intending to take my fiancée and flee for our lives.
But outside the door, I overheard her plotting with her boss on the sofa, scheming to drain all my wealth.
"He’s just an orphan with no family or connections. No one would care even if he dies."
I didn’t push the door open.
Instead, I quietly cashed out all my assets overnight and built an impenetrable island fortress without delay.
Seven days later, the zombie hordes surrounded the city.
She and her entire family were chased by the monsters, covered in blood and mangled.
They knelt frantically kowtowing and begging for help right outside my explosion-proof gate.
I coldly locked the door tight.
"You were right," I said. "No one really cares if you die. Just go in peace."

Everyone at Briar Ridge High knows two things: No one messes with star quarterback Jaxon Reed, and no one stands up for Mila Santos.
Mila is the brilliant, plus-size girl people underestimate too easily—the quiet honors student with a sharp tongue, a secret dream of leaving town, and a reputation shaped by years of cruelty. At school, she’s the target of whispers, pranks, and public humiliation, much of it fueled by Jaxon’s possessive cheerleader ex.

Then Mila takes a live-in babysitting job for Jaxon’s little sister while his father works nights, and everything changes.
At school, they are enemies by history and circumstance. At home, they are forced into the same kitchen, the same living room, the same late-night routines of homework help, shared meals, and caring for the little girl who adores them both. Mila sees the side of Jaxon no one else does: protective, overworked, and carrying more pressure than his golden-boy image reveals. Jaxon begins to see the truth about Mila too—not the rumors, not the body people mock, but the fierce, funny, deeply resilient girl he should have defended long ago.
As the bullying escalates and his ex wages war, Jaxon is forced to choose between the life everyone expects from him and the girl he cannot stop thinking about. Meanwhile, Mila begins a powerful transformation of her own. She stops shrinking. Stops apologizing. Stops letting cruel people decide her worth.

What begins as bitterness becomes tension. Tension becomes loyalty. Loyalty becomes a first love fierce enough to change them both.
But when betrayal, jealousy, and one devastating public humiliation threaten to tear them apart, Mila must decide whether loving Jaxon is worth the risk—or whether choosing herself means walking away from the boy who finally learned how to fight for her.....

Everyone used to say Ryan Scott loved me more than his own life.
I used to believe that too.
Then I found out I was pregnant with Ryan’s child—
and that’s when my adopted sister told me she was pregnant with his child as well.
So I chose revenge.
I emptied his accounts, staged the perfect accident, and planned my own “death.”
On the day I “died,” Ryan completely broke down, clutching my urn like it was the only thing keeping him alive.
While he sobbed his heart out in front of my photo, I was already holding another man’s hand—the man who never let go of me when I was at my lowest—
and walking toward the brand‑new life that truly belonged to me.

Kelly Brook thought her secret marriage to Anderson Grant would shield her from her previous scandal, but everything crumbled when she discovered Anderson’s betrayal—a hidden affair with her estranged twin sister, Kate. Forced to announce her own divorce, Kelly struggles to hold her composure as she faces public judgment and private heartbreak. With her resources tied to Anderson’s career and overshadowed by her sister. Kelly must decide whether to fight for redemption or let her past destroy her future.

Jess is the heir of his father big mansion, to fulfill his will he goes with his girlfriend to spend a week there but what is doesn't know is not only is half-sister is taking part of the project but they are monitored 24/7. What started as a normal experience turns into a bloody battle for power

As the manor's all seeing AI, Craig, monitors their every move and whispered confession, the line between sanctuary and laboratory blurs. The house's hidden passages and dark secrets begin to surface, revealing a legacy built on betrayal, psychological torture, and murder. The heirs soon realize they are not just fighting for an inheritance but for their very survival, as the house itself seems designed to make them turn on one another.

In this venomous crucible of lust and greed, where every kiss can be a lie and every touch a threat, the Blackwood family must confront the sins of their bloodline. Who will successfully navigate the lethal maze of desire and deception to claim the ultimate prize, and who will become just another ghost haunting the halls of Jackson Manor?

"You're my weakness" Jerald said, still aiming his gun at her, she yawned.

"If all I am to you is a pawn that your enemies will use against you then, do as you wish" She said as she stepped towards him.

He stepped back. “Don't come closer" he said, his hands jolting. “I'll shoot."

“Jerald Carter! New York's Cosa Nostra, can't even shoot me.” She mocked him, she knew he couldn't do it.
She kept moving closer.

“Jennifer!” He warned her.

“You can't kill me, Jerald.” She pressed her chest against the gun. “You and I both know I am The Thing You Kill For.”
Jennifer’s father promised that she would marry Jerald Carter. Jennifer's been dreading the arranged marriage because she has a boyfriend—but now that her family's lives depend on it, there’s no denying it anymore.
There's something mystifying about Jerald Carter but nonetheless, Jennifer couldn’t help but fall for him.

Everyone is not perfect of course, Jerald Carter got a big secret he’s keeping, of the dark and deadly variety.

But what will happen when she finds out that she married a man who could just as easily kill her as a snap...?

Damian's breath fanned my ear as I felt his body press into my back. The front of his gun brushed past my shoulder, fixated on Luca, who faced us with clenched fists.
“Move, Elena,” Luca wanted to sound dominating, “he won't hurt you. I won't let him.”
I couldn't move when Damian settled his hand on my waist firmly, keeping me from moving.
“You won't let me?” Damian's tone was possessive when he leaned closer to me, speaking to Luca. “You don't give the orders here.”
Luca's jaw tightened, but he didn't move from his place.
Damian slowly pressed his finger more on the trigger, deliberately.
“You have two choices, Elena," he whispered to me. "Choose me, and he'll live, but might end up in a hospital. Choose him and he dies."


Elena knew it wasn’t a threat but a promise.

After Saffron was injured, Theodore personally sent Maeve to a psychiatric hospital.
“Take good care of her.” Those were his words before Maeve endured years of torture.
When she was finally released, her own fiancé failed to recognize her, mistaking her for a woman he could pick up at a bar.
Three years earlier, Saffron had falsely accused Maeve of trying to run her over.
Without hearing her side, her family abandoned her, and Theodore let it happen.
Now, Maeve is back, but no one believes her claims that Saffron framed her.
Theodore even demands that she accept her punishment.
Done begging for their trust, Maeve walks away forever.
Her family pushes her into a contract marriage, and just as she stops defending herself, Saffron’s deception is exposed.
Will Theodore win her back? Will her family love her again? Can Maeve finally find happiness in her contract marriage?

She showed up from a nowhere town in Texas. He runs half the city from a penthouse no one gets invited to.

First meeting: he told her to hand over the cat and the kid. She kicked his brother into a car hood.

Second meeting: he produced a travel-size hand sanitizer on a park bench. She ate a hot dog next to him without blinking.

They're locked to the same bracelet — heart rate spikes, coordinates sync, no override, no opt-out. He's precise, controlled, allergic to chaos. She keeps walking into his life like she owns the square footage. He's never once miscalculated a person. She makes him do it constantly.

He tells her he'll always know where she is. She tells him to keep his heart rate down, then.

Neither of them manages it.

He says he doesn't do feelings. She says she doesn't do roots. The bracelet doesn't care what either of them says.

It just keeps syncing.

Every time.

The night my childhood fiancé humiliated me in front of our entire senior class, I didn't cry.
I just went home and made two decisions.

Lose the 60 pounds.
Secretly reject my Princeton acceptance.
I erased his number, packed my bags, and vanished from his toxic orbit. Nathan thinks he won.
He thinks he finally shook off the "burden" his parents forced on him.
But what happens when the girl you spent your whole life running away from... becomes the only woman you can't live without?

Thirteen years. That's how long I loved Reid Holloway.
When he said he was being bullied, I believed him. When he kissed me on that rooftop, I thought he felt the same. When he asked me to transfer schools with him, I said yes without hesitation.
Then I heard him bragging to his friends: "She'd save her first time for me. Hell, she'd still be thinking of me on her wedding night."
The bullying was staged. The kiss meant nothing. He just wanted me gone—so his new girl could feel more comfortable.
He thought I'd beg. He thought I'd cry. He thought I'd never actually leave.
I left the country.
And ran straight into his stepbrother.

My mother rips my long-hidden Orion star chart to pieces and hurls the scraps straight into my face like garbage.
For seventeen years, I’ve been the praised straight-A good girl, my shirt collars always buttoned all the way up. I’ve lived solely for one goal: an acceptance letter from Yale, my ticket out of this suffocating cage.
But the second she locks my bedroom door from the outside, it hits me cold: blind obedience only traps you tighter.
Just as despair crashes over me, a silver lighter clatters against my windowsill. Zane—the biker delinquent everyone at school steers clear of—pries open my window and holds out his hand to me.
To hell with the Ivy League. Tonight, Aria’s jumping out of this window that’s kept me prisoner.

My daughter was choked until her face turned purple by the mistress's son, then nearly died after my ex-husband forced her to give blood.
She was beaten, cursed at, and abandoned on a bench outside the hospital.
And I could do nothing to help her.
Because I had already died eight years ago.
It wasn't until my daughter collapsed crying at my grave—and the story made the news—that my ex-husband finally learned the truth.
He had destroyed both me and the child we shared in the cruelest way possible.
And by then, there was no fixing it.

I spent three years in the squad — three years carrying them to the top of the S-rank hero league. And their reward? They decided my B-rank rating wasn't good enough, and brought in an A-rank support to replace me. Fine. I'm done pretending. The truth is, I'm S-rank.

In their eyes, my wife Emma—an Ivy League tenured professor in biological sciences—is ruthless, rational, and obsessively clean.
For seven years, even when she washed her hands, she would only ever touch the right-side sink—hers.
Until that night at 3 a.m., when I pulled a strand of sandy-golden short curl—hair that belonged to neither of us—out of my men’s shower loofah.
And around the neck of a pre-med student named Lucas, I saw the antique silver cross my dying father left in my hands.
When I confronted her, my always-icy wife protected the little homewrecker, slapped me across the face, and called me a jealous, controlling chauvinist.
She thought I’d swallow it like a coward.
But she forgot: as a top cardiothoracic chief, the thing I do best is cutting out tumors.

The rules were supposed to keep me safe:

Rule #1: Fix my shattered swimming career.
Rule #2: Hide the crippling panic attacks drowning my future.
Rule #3: Never, ever fall for my new coach.

Too bad Liam James is also my best friend’s brother.

After a tragic accident stole my parents, the pool went from my sanctuary to my worst nightmare. Enter Liam: arrogant, devastatingly intense, and brutally demanding. He thinks I’m a lazy, washed-up athlete wasting his time. I think he’s a heartless tyrant.

But every explosive confrontation at the pool edge only fuels a suffocating, forbidden chemistry we can't ignore.

He’s completely off-limits. Breaking the rules means risking my career, his future, and my best friend’s trust. But when the world spins out of control, his arms are the only place I can finally breathe.

Can we survive the forbidden heat, or will our secrets drag us under?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked finally.

“What I should have done a long time ago,” I replied, not turning around. “Leaving you.” My hand closed around the door handle.

“Not with my child.”


Married off to him to settle a debt that was never mine, I was nothing more than a contract… a means to an end.

An heir.

That was all Adrian Blackwood ever wanted from me.

Not my love. Not my heart. Not me. But still… I gave it to him anyway.

Year after year, I loved a man who never once looked at me the way I looked at him. And when my time was up, when the contract ended and no child tied me to him, I walked away.

Until fate played its cruel joke.

Because just when I finally left him behind, I found out I was carrying his child.

Now the man who never wanted me… refuses to let me go.

Twenty-one-year-old Adrian Blood had nothing — no parents, no money, he was just a scholarship and a girlfriend he thought was worth saving for. Valentine's night stripped even that away. Teresa chose his bully. Ricardo's men put him in the garbage, literally.

Then a voice activated in his head.

The Chosen Heir System doesn't do sympathy — it does missions. Its first order: save the sister of the man who just destroyed him. Adrian ran through the rain, bleeding, and did it anyway.

One mission. One million dollars.

Ricardo Rodriguez has no idea what he just created. And the system is only getting started.

She was my best friend — until she used a soul-swapping potion to steal my body, my face, and my man.
In my past life, I was trapped inside her fat, ugly shell and drowned in the freezing depths of the sea.
Reborn on the day before the swap, I didn't expose her.
I smiled and drank the tea.
After she left, I picked up a knife and carved two deep gashes across my own face.
Then I threw myself from the second floor.
The next morning she woke up giddy with excitement. The moment she looked in the mirror, her screams echoed through the entire hospital.
Meanwhile, I opened my eyes in her Mafia Godfather father's estate — and walked straight into the family council.
She wanted my beauty? She could have it.
The power she was desperate to throw away? I'll take it.

I was the most revered pureblood Light heir.

In my past life, I married the Supreme Holy Knight, Arthur, only to give birth to an Ash-blood cub—the lowest of all.

In a rage, he incinerated my baby alive. He then dragged my bleeding, postpartum body into a saltwater dungeon to drain my magic, leaving me to be devoured by venomous insects.

Meanwhile, my lowly Ash-blood sister miraculously birthed a Light-blood cub. Stepping on my corpse, she became the realm's new ruler.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at our Mate-Selection Ceremony. Arthur publicly rejected me and chose my sister.

Seeing his smug, calculating smirk, I knew immediately: he had been reborn, too.

But how could a parasitic knight, who survived entirely by draining his wife's magic to fake a holy bloodline, ever father a supreme dragon?

For three years, she was the invisible wife in a marriage of convenience, her quiet love met only with his cold indifference. Now, with her departure date set, the photos of him with his true love are the final proof she needs to walk away forever.

Her bags are packed, her future is hers alone. She plans to vanish without a trace, leaving behind only a signed divorce paper.

He never saw her—until he found her closet empty and his world unraveling. The man who took her for granted is now in a desperate race against time, tormented by a single question: Can he undo his greatest mistake, or has he already lost the one person who truly mattered?

Her father and stepmother died, leaving her in the brutal hands of her stepbrother. Her stepbrother is heartless.
He treats her as a maid, is it a torture?
She, however, discovers that she has been sold. Sold to a Ruthless Mafia, just to serve as a settlement for her stepbrother's debt. Now she fears her life. Would her life take a turn for the worse or for the best?

Chloe wasted ten years loving arrogant Zane. To win a Porsche bet, he publicly humiliated her, taking her devotion for granted. Finally awake, she cut him off and rebuilt herself as a brilliant top-university elite.
After losing her, Zane drowned in regret, begging desperately for her forgiveness. But it was too late. Chloe met the wealthy, gentle genius Liam, who healed all her wounds. Zane gambled with her heart—and lost her forever.

At the Eternal Night Realm admission ceremony, Carly suddenly grabs my hand.

My heart pounds. I think he is going to announce our relationship to the entire continent.

Instead, he says, "Eve, thanks for everything these past five years. But Lym didn't make the cut. She's hurting right now, and I need to go back and be there for her."

He crushes the realm token right in front of thousands of people.

For five years, I hid my pureblood lord identity. I drained my magic until I literally coughed up blood, quietly paving every step of his way.

I thought we loved each other. I thought after this ceremony we would rise to the top together.

But his casual thanks for everything crushes five years of my devotion into dust.

What is even more laughable is that the moment the online backlash hits Lym, he calls me on the comms.

"Eve! You need to put out a statement to clear this up right now! As my friend, you owe me this!"

Friend?

My hand holding the crystal shakes.

I tried twenty times to finalize my betrothal with Caius for our overseas fellowship, but accidents kept hurting me. I thought it was fate’s test—until I heard him admit he planned it all. He wanted another girl, using my pain to make me quit, all to keep his reputation clean. Now awake, I ended this lie for good.

At the Met Gala, I heard my husband tell his friends in French that I'm "boring." That his 22-year-old girlfriend is "so much more exciting in bed."

He laughed when they asked if I knew. "Elle ne comprend même pas 'bonjour'." (She doesn't even understand 'bonjour'.)

What Marcus doesn't know: I spent two years at the Sorbonne.

Je comprends tout, Marcus. I understand everything.

The diamond necklace he gave me after my miscarriage suddenly feels too tight. I smile at him across the champagne and candlelight.

He has no idea what's coming.

Two years ago, my intended mate walked out of our Moon Rite, the night he was supposed to mark me, with his adopted sister in his arms. He didn't look back once.

That same night, his uncle, the Alpha King, held out his hand and asked if I'd consider a different mate.

I said yes.

Now Marcus is back, sure I've spent two years waiting for him. He laughs at the bite on my neck and calls it a sticker. He blocks my way at my own gates and orders me to apologize to his sister.

He has no idea whose house he's standing outside.

And his fragile little sister has a silver blade tucked up her sleeve.

I didn’t come from money, so Julian’s friends decided I was a gold digger.

His best friend, Sloane, was the worst. She liked to say she used to be a gold digger herself, so she knew my type.

To prove her wrong, I spent three years with Julian without accepting a single expensive gift.

Sloane had an answer for that, too: “She says she doesn’t want anything, but she’s really waiting for him to offer something bigger. It’s called playing hard to get.”

For Julian’s birthday, I spent six months saving up to buy him a watch.

But as I reached the door of the private lounge, I heard Sloane laughing.

“I told you she’d buy something expensive. Textbook gold digger. Spend a little, get a lot.”

Julian sat right beside her. He didn’t defend me.

Then he looked up and asked, “Have you been acting this whole time? Were you just waiting to cash out?”

I stood in the doorway, and the watch suddenly weighed a ton.

I didn’t answer. I just turned around and walked away.

That was the last time he would doubt my feelings.

I was taking my heart back.

After my eighth trip to the psychiatric ward, I finally became the perfect, obedient wife my husband always wanted—even when I caught his childhood friend giving him a handjob in our living room.

"Ever heard of knocking?" Eric snapped, his eyes dark with irritation. "If those hands are useless, might as well chop them off." Without a word, I grabbed a kitchen knife and raised it toward my wrist. He kicked it away, screaming at me to stop being dramatic. So, I turned and charged headfirst toward the floor-to-ceiling window.

When I woke up, I heard him laughing with her. "She's fine. Just another attention stunt." He didn't know that the "treatment" he authorized had broken my mind into a million jagged pieces. He didn't know about the shock collars, the waterboarding, the dark cells. He thought I was finally "cured" of my jealousy.

It wasn't until a rafting trip, when his friend pushed me into the rapids and my prosthetic eye popped out and rolled across the deck, that his world shattered. As he stared at the empty black socket where my left eye used to be, he finally realized what those facilities had done to me. He dropped to his knees, screaming my name, but the woman who loved him was already dead.

Will his tears be enough to bring back the wife he destroyed, or is this just the beginning of his hell?

On our wedding day, my fiancé left me and an entire room of guests waiting for two full hours so he could go to the airport and pick up the woman he’d never gotten over.

When he finally showed up, he was standing protectively at her side. Then he told me to “be reasonable and stop making a scene.”

In that moment, the love I’d held on to for twelve years simply disappeared.

I threw down my bouquet and called off the wedding right then and there.

Furious, he demanded, “You’re doing this because I was late?”

“Yes. Because you were late.”

I found a black lace panty under my husband's car. Black lace. Definitely not mine.
Three months. That's how long he'd been telling everyone he was done with herm, telling his mom, telling our friends, telling me. I actually believed him. I thought we were finally okay.
Then I found the dash cam footage from the night before, and I heard him tell his buddy he'd never once felt anything real with me. Not in ten years. Not once.
So yeah. He came home. He just never really left her.
I didn't scream. I didn't confront him. Found her address off his phone.Brought a cake and a bottle of wine like I actually gave a damn.
Had my assistant livestream the whole thing.
The second that door opened, half a million people watched me hand him that cake.
"Surprise. Bet you weren't expecting this."

I'm dead.

Died that rainy night, desperate because I couldn't scrape together five thousand dollars to save my dog.

Liam laughed at me over the phone—my childhood friend told me to quit the sob story. His new girlfriend Sarah said I should get on my knees and beg if I wanted her to toss me some scraps. They had no idea every dollar I owed those loan sharks was to cover up Liam's hit-and-run.

My dog died. So I jumped into Black Lake.

It wasn't until they pulled my body from the water that Liam found the surveillance footage in that tin box and realized what a massive mistake he'd made. Then he snapped, dragging Sarah and everyone else who killed me down into the depths, one by one.

Too bad it was already too late.

Three months after my miscarriage, at the celebration dinner he hosts for my "recovery," he tells his partners in French, "She's just a trophy wife. Doesn't understand basic business."

"What about that new assistant? The twenty-two-year-old?"

"So much smarter," he laughs. "And in bed? Way more exciting."

They think I don't understand. To everyone here, I'm just the stay-at-home wife who gave up her VP position at an investment bank to play house.

They don't know I minored in French. I spent a full year studying abroad at the Sorbonne.

As I lay in the operating room, bleeding out from the miscarriage, he was already seeing her.

Je comprends tout. I understand everything.

Over the champagne and candlelight, I smile at him.

He has no idea this is the last time he'll ever see it.

On our wedding night, my husband wanted to play a game.
Trade secrets. The kind that could destroy you if they ever got out.
He went first.
"I hurt a girl once. At a ski lodge. She shouldn't have been in that room. But she was."
He said it like a parking ticket. Then he took a sip of whiskey and moved on.
My turn.
"I killed someone," I said. "Do you believe me?"
He laughed. He thought I was joking.
He really shouldn't have kissed me after that.

“You thought you could walk away from me, Rosella?”
He pinned her against the glass wall of his office, the city lights glittering below like witnesses to her downfall.
His fingers curled around her throat as he leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear.
“I’m going to take back what you stole, Rosella. Every night. Every moan. Every broken little plea you can’t help but make.”
“And by the time I’m done with you, you won’t remember a life that didn’t revolve around me.”
*
Rosella Summers never did reckless things.
Until one night, she fell into bed with a stranger.
Who turned out to be her ex.
Loving Thorn Rockwell was the biggest risk she ever took. The heir to the Rockwell empire. A blazing-hot racing icon. And a man born so far from her struggling world, loving him felt like trying to catch starlight with bare hands.
Six years ago, they were inseparable.
Then she left. Broke his heart. Disappeared without a trace.
She told herself it was the right thing—that walking away would save him.
But she was wrong.
Now Thorn is back. And he’s her new boss.
The soft boy she once loved is gone. In his place stands a cold, vengeful monster. A man who looks at her not with love, but with the promise of destruction.
He wants to ruin her. Humble her. Have her. Preferably beneath him.
But Thorn doesn’t know the whole truth.
Rosella isn’t just protecting her own heart anymore.
She has Thraia—her five-year-old daughter, her whole world, and a secret that could shatter everyone if Thorn ever finds out.
He wants revenge.
She needs a miracle.
And the only thing more dangerous than his hatred…
Is the love they never truly buried.

Mike Costa was supposed to be the sole heir to the Mafia, but he was betrayed and “abandoned” by his own brother Lucas in a yacht explosion, and everyone believed he was dead.
Five years later, he returns—cold-blooded, powerful, and unshakable. The entire underground world of New York is reshaped beneath him.
Just as Mike is about to settle everything once and for all, Lucas forces him into a political marriage with Chicago’s top family, using the secret of his true identity as leverage.
And when Mike first meets the woman at the top of that power hierarchy, she completely changes the rules of this marriage contract—this time, hunter and prey are no longer clearly defined.