1776 Book(s) Related to book don't you forget about me

I am the fearsome godfather of the Mafia.
For the woman I love, I sheathed my fangs and willingly became a despised commoner son-in-law.
In the horrific car accident, I shielded her with my own flesh and blood, and steel bars pierced through my chest.
Faced with the only life-saving machine in the entire hospital, she did not hesitate to save her lightly injured "white moonlight" brother-in-law, leaving me to die in the basement.
She thought that as long as I bled to death, she could naturally embrace perfect love.
But she didn't know—
Without my protection, her proud, century-old family wouldn't even last a month ...

In the apocalypse, during my escape, I awakened a useless superpower: reset .
My girlfriend, despising me as a burden who only creates junk, conspired with the mercenary captain to kick me into a horde of zombies.
She had planned everything, except for one thing.
My superpower wasn't "creating junk," but a conceptual-level divine skill !
A zombie bites my heart? Reset my body's state, instantly revived!
A rabid mutant attacks? Reset its hunger nerve, making it instantly kneel like a dog!
I single-handedly fought my way through the zombie horde and knocked on the shelter's door.
Beside the captain's shattered neck, I held my desperately begging ex-girlfriend upside down, smiling as I suspended her directly above the zombie horde.
"You were right, useless people should be zombie food. Now, it's your turn to prove your worth."
Then, I released her.

Three torturous years hauling bodies on the mortuary night shift, and I'd finally scraped together the cash for my brother Charles's heart transplant.
He just waved it off.
"My heart is fine. Mom and Dad didn't die in that gang war, either. I orchestrated the hit. You were the only casualty."
Nearby, my husband, Gerald, casually lit a cigar to deliver his own confession. "I never went bankrupt. 'Laying low' was just my excuse to avoid squeezing into that dingy funeral home dorm with you. I've been at the Long Island estate."
"I was going to punish you for another three years," Charles added, "but the stench of formaldehyde on you is nauseating. We couldn't take it anymore."
I froze, still clutching the credit card. Charles plucked the plastic from my numb fingers and shoved his phone screen in my face. A banking app stared back at me.
Balance: exactly zero.
"My name is still on the joint account," he sneered, tossing the card into the trash. "I drained it this morning. That blood money you made bagging stiffs is being handed out to street junkies as we speak. We'd never touch that filth."
Before the sheer absurdity of it could suffocate me, my parents walked in. Flanked by bodyguards, they kept their distance, eyeing me like a plague rat.
"You thought being the biological daughter gave you the right to ruthlessly bully Violet. We simply wanted to put you in your place."
"Swear you'll never cross Violet again, and you can remain a Falcone," my mother added coolly. "Otherwise, you're dead to us."
In the stifling silence that followed, my phone buzzed. A text from my oncologist.
[Mrs. Castello, the results are back. It's terminal. Do you consent to initiating the hospice and DNR protocols we discussed?]

Everyone says I’m crazy.
My husband, Adrien, is Ashmont College’s most esteemed professor—suave, composed, and highly logical. I, on the other hand, am an investigative journalist whose nerves are fried by looming deadlines and too much caffeine. Yet, I insist there’s a woman who shares my exact face, who crawls out of our bedroom mirror every night and slips into my husband’s bed.
Our security cameras always "happen" to glitch at the crucial moments. My son avoids me like I’m a monster, and my neighbors claim they cheerfully greeted "me" in the driveway a few days ago—even though I don't even own a vintage pink dress.
Adrien has started dropping phrases like "psych evaluation" and "sole custody." If I let this drag on any longer, he’s going to personally commit me to a psych ward.
So tonight, I lied about flying to Chicago. Instead, I’m hiding in my own study—waiting for that identical face to crawl out of the mirror one more time.

In a sleek design world split between polished appearances and buried cruelty, Mara Ellison has spent years trapped behind a voice no one wanted to hear. While her family rewrites her illness and her fiancé speaks over her in the name of love, stolen records, public humiliation, and old betrayals force her to reclaim her life. Quiet but cutting, this is a story of emotional abuse, identity theft, and hard-won selfhood—framed by rain-soaked streets, hospital corridors, cold glass conference rooms, and a woman finally stepping into the light with her own voice.

Julian and I played house for five years—minus the actual marriage certificate. Because he bailed on me at the registry office twelve times. All for Mia, some intern.

First time: Mia screwed up her pitch.

Sixth time: Mia had the flu.

Twelfth time: Mia's ex showed up at our architecture firm throwing punches. Julian had to play knight in shining armor. I got knocked into a desk, cracked my head open—he didn't spare me a glance before whisking her off to the ER.

Before, I would've lost it. Screamed. Sobbed. Begged him to tell me who the hell he was actually planning to marry. And every single time, Julian would sigh and say, "Chloe, really? She's just an intern. Practically a child."

This time, all I said was: "Go ahead."

Then I turned around and took that job overseas.

When his thirteenth text came through—yet another registry office reschedule—I was already at the gate for my London flight.

This time? I'm choosing me.

The day college decisions came out, my parents bought my twin sister a Porsche.
It was my eighteenth birthday too. Nobody brought it up. I stood in the doorway in my diner uniform while the whole room sang her name.
That night the four of them went out to dinner to celebrate her. The car only sat four, so my father handed me a hundred dollars and told me to order myself something at home.
Four days later, six thousand four hundred dollars vanished from my account. Two years of washing dishes, gone to her sorority dues. My mother's name was on the account, so it wasn't even illegal.
I didn't scream and I didn't beg. I went upstairs and clicked Accept on the full ride to MIT that had been sitting in my inbox for three days.
Nobody in that house ever wanted me. So I booked a one-way ticket, cut myself out of the family photo, and left my key on the shoe rack.
I wasn't coming back. Not for graduation. Not for any of them.

My childhood sweetheart, Henry, gave me a glass of milk the night before my Harvard interview.
I thought he cared.
Until I woke up with my waist-length hair hacked off and my brain drowning in sedatives.
Later, I found him at a cafe, laughing with the prettiest girl, Madison, in our class.
"You actually cut her hair? You're insane, Henry!" she giggled.
"Truth or dare, babe," I heard him. "She's fat anyway. But you need that Harvard spot, Madison."
The boy who promised to marry me traded my dream to impress someone else.
I didn't scream. I didn't cry.
Let him have his joke. I'm taking my life back.

"I agree." I signed away my life to save the girl who framed me. My mate didn't even look up from her tears to notice I was dying. "Stop pretending. This much blood loss won't kill you," he said, storming out with her in his arms. What he didn't know? That contract wasn't a healing pact—it was an execution order. And I'd just started my 72-hour countdown to burn his entire kingdom down with me.

The day college applications were due, Fern Whitmore wouldn't stop crying — and my two childhood best friends were completely wrapped around her finger.

They actually threatened to give up their Ivy League spots to follow her to community college.

I tried everything to talk them out of it. Nothing worked. So I went behind their backs and called both their parents.

Their parents showed up that same night and put a stop to it. Applications corrected, crisis averted, everyone back on track.

Or so I thought.

Fern lost her two personal ATMs, and one night she posted a goodbye message on social media and swallowed a bottle of pills.

Nash and Declan didn't blame her for it. They blamed me.

They lured me up to the roof. Both of them shoved their hands against my chest.

"Maren." Declan's voice was ice. "You ruined Fern's future. Go apologize to her in hell."

I fell twelve stories.

When I opened my eyes, I was back at the beginning.

This time, I'm not saving anyone.

“Dad… please… help me…” I pleaded, my shattered ribs piercing my lungs, blood soaking the stretcher.
But Richard, the hospital's top surgeon and my biological father, didn't even glance at me. Instead, he rushed to the next bed.
“Don't be afraid, Chloe. I'm here,” he cooed to his stepdaughter, who merely had a tiny scratch on her arm. “Get the best equipment over here now!” he roared.
As the heart monitor flatlined and my soul left my broken body, I realized the chilling truth: in the choice between life and death, my father gladly let me die.

In order to rush to comfort his assistant whose apartment was leaking, Richard signed his name hastily without even glancing at the documents on the table.
I put away the divorce agreement with a wry smile.
When he and my son completely disappeared, he finally panicked.
Three months later .
He knelt down on the streets of Chicago in despair, begging me to remarry him.
My six-year-old son looked coldly at his biological father and said, "Get lost, you bad uncle! You don't deserve to be my dad!"

On my twenty-fourth birthday, my grandfather dropped the bombshell: I was an orphan.
After learning about my biological family, I decided to do something nice. I bought a limited-edition sports car as a gift for the father I had never met.
But at the dealership, I was publicly humiliated by my brother's mistress.
To clear up the misunderstanding, I called my brother.
When he arrived, it was only to back her up.
"This birthmark is ugly; let me help you get rid of it."
My own brother used a cigar to burn off the birthmark behind my ear and had my suffering broadcast on the mall's LED screen.
"Listen, if anyone dares to treat this woman’s injuries, I’ll have their license revoked in this city for good!"
But he didn’t know that the grandfather who raised me was someone no one in this city could even dream of looking up to.
When my grandfather arrived with a top-notch medical team and armed mercenaries, sealing off the entire building, my arrogant brother finally realized his mistake.

“I, Alpha Daniel Caldwell, reject you, Amber Osborne, as my mate.”
On the day of my wedding, my destined mate, Alpha Daniel, publicly severed our bond.
And then, he completed his marriage registration with Camelia Hodges.
As the crowd erupted into mocking laughter and ridiculed me, Beta Theodore West stepped forward, pulling out a diamond ring. With heartfelt sincerity, he proposed to me.
Even if he wasn’t my fated mate.
Feeling moved, I nodded and consented to marry him. When I was seven months pregnant, I was ambushed by a rogue wolf pack. In the end, Theodore arrived with his army, saving my life.
When I regained consciousness, he was sitting beside me, his eyes filled with sorrow. He told me that the baby hadn’t made it and that I would never be able to have pups again.
Devastated, I broke down. He wrapped his arms around me, and with tears streaming down his face, Theodore apologized for not being able to protect me. He swore to stay by my side forever.

Eight years into our mate bond, I thought I was the “Halo” in Alpha Leo’s life.

Until the old Alpha passed away and he brought his “cancer-stricken” stepmother Ayla home, I realized I was nothing more than a clumsy substitute.

The “son” I had raised for years for his stepmother stood on the opposite side of me.

The moonlight grass that symbolized memories died on a stormy night.

At last, I signed the mate-bond dissolution agreement and returned to the fashion throne that belonged to me without looking back.

When the truth was exposed, they chased after me with red, tearful eyes to repent.

I merely smoothed the wrinkles of my gown and looked toward the direction of the award stage.

What stray wolf dares to block my Halo?

My long-lost twin sister has returned.
The first thing she did was demand to marry my fiancé.
Jayden, murmuring apologies, held her close as they walked into the city hall.
My family urged me to be generous, saying, "After all she’s been through, you owe her this much. You've had a good life all these years—why not let her have this?"
Until the day of their wedding, no one could find me.
But what they didn't know was that my body had been drifting at sea for over ten days.

No tears. No scene. Just one thing —
A divorce agreement on the dining table, and she walked out the door.
Under Reason for Divorce, she wrote: Husband's sexual dysfunction.
For the first time, Fu Yuting's cold composure cracked. He tore the papers apart.
She just smiled. "That's fine. I made copies."
Three years she loved him. Three years he hurt her.
The moment she finally let go — he realized the woman who had lived for him would never look back.

I am the Don Dante's wife, but my life runs through my husband's underboss who always seduce my husband, Elena.
I can't wear a coat without Elena's passcode.
My cards are monitored. My cash is approved. Dante calls it protocol. He calls it protection. He never asks why I wear the same faded sweater in winter.
I swallowed every humiliation because my mother's ventilator depended on his signature.
But Elena intentionally delayed funds for my mother’s medical treatment.
The brutal clash made me miscarry.
My mother died alone without timely treatment. I stopped filing all daily spending applications for three days straight.
Today he calls, calm and condescending, telling me the medical accounts are restored.
He thinks I'll fall back into line.
He doesn't know the only thing I'm requesting now is a signature—his, on the divorce papers.

“Gabriel Bryce, how can you stand being so shameless?” Leonica asked, staring daggers at her atrocious husband and his mistress. “This is the house gifted to my by grandmother, yet you dare bring another woman into it? Aren’t you afraid that grandmother would be disappointed with you actions…?”
Leonica’s words remained unfinished as an enraged Gabriel swung his hand through the air, smacking his palm clean on her left cheek.
Leonica held her throbbing cheek, eyes wide and teary as she stared at her husband who glared down at her ferociously.
“The nerves of you to mention my grandmother. You have no right to do so!” He spat, taking a step forward and jabbing his index finger painfully into her shoulder, making her take several steps back. “Bare this in mind, Leonica Romero, if not for the wishes of my late grandmother, I’d much rather be dead than associate myself with somebody like you.”
~* *~
Leonica Romero has always had a long time crush on Gabriel Bryce, CEO of Bryce Empire and Norway’s Business tyrant. Fortunately, at the request of his Ill grandmother, her family’s long time friend, Leonica gets the chance to marry her beloved.
Feeling elated, she abandoned her position and dream job in the Romero household and becomes a humble housewife for Gabriel. However, Three years later, on the day of Gabriel’s grandmother’s funeral, Leonica is stunned speechless when he demands for a divorce, as his ex girlfriend Angelina Fernandez had suddenly returned, proclaiming her undying love for him.
But that wasn’t the only shock Leonica received that day. Hours after Gabriel’s declaration for a divorce, Leonica wakes up in the hospital to a shocking news.
She was two months pregnant.
And Gabriel knew nothing about this!

I was dying — and he was loving someone else.
I left.
Now he wants me back… but will I let him?

I hid my identity and pretended to be a country bumpkin by Christopher's side, caring for him and healing him. I never expected that the first thing Christopher would do after his recovery was dump me.

On the day my half-sister and I shared our birthday, he made a grand appearance at her party while leaving me to be mocked and ridiculed by everyone: "A country bumpkin doesn't deserve to be Christopher's wife. Go back to the countryside where you belong."

I just smiled. If not for repaying the debt I owed Christopher, I would never have stayed here in the first place. Any one of my hidden identities was someone they could only look up to.

No one expected I'd have the backbone to throw the divorce papers in Christopher's face, declaring that I was the one leaving him!

What happens when Kyrah Bailey falls in love with the son of a tycoon, Blake Dawson and later finds out that he has strings attached with his neighbor Sabrina Johnson? Will Kyrah be able to dig out Blake's past? Will she forgive Blake or not? Torn between her boyfriend, Blake and her best friend, Scott Stone, her world crumbles down as she tries to fight for her lover forgetting about her friends and family. Will she realize her mistakes and who will she end up falling for?

After a brutal public humiliation by her cheating fiancé, Andrea surrendered to one reckless night with Kade—the notorious Alpha, her fated mate… and the last man she ever wanted to be claimed.
But fate wasn't kind. When that night left twins growing in her womb, Kade was engaged with another for power. Betrayed. Claimed. Abandoned. Andrea boarded the first flight out, determined to vanish forever… until she realized that night already changed her forever.
Something dark had awoken inside her.
A forbidden power—one that could burn the world to ashes.
When destiny forced her back into Kade's path, how could she protect the pack's future—without shattering her wounded heart all over again?


“Say my name again,” he demanded. "Say you're MINE!"
I threw my head back and moaned as he bit my neck. “Kade,” I gasped.
I didn’t care that we were out in the open woods or that this was the man I had sworn off of; I had to have him inside me right then and there, or I would die from need.

Minerva “Mina” Hayes thought marrying Tristan Johnston meant forever—until the night their marriage was announced and he stood beside another woman, letting the world brand Mina as the shameless third party. Betrayed, pregnant, and abandoned, she vanished without a trace, vowing never to love him again.

Three years later, Mina returns—not as the broken woman he left behind, but as a powerful CEO with her own empire. Now, the billionaire who once destroyed her is desperate to have her back. But Mina has learned her lesson. This time, she refuses to be his hidden wife—she’ll be the woman who makes him regret everything.

Yet as buried truths begin to surface, the lines between betrayal and sacrifice start to blur… 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗧𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗿𝘂𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗴𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘂𝗽 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁

He filled my head with lies.
Then he set my world on fire.

Gavril Vaknin.
Richer than God.
Crueler than the devil.

And if he has his way…
My new fake husband.

A chance meeting turns into a once-in-a-lifetime offer.
The billionaire don needs a blank slate to turn into his perfect politician’s wife.
I’m homeless and desperate—what do I have to lose?

But Gavril is hiding secrets. Cloaked in lies.
Stepping into his world is a one-way ticket to a hell I won’t survive.

Did I do the right thing?
Or did I just sell my soul to a monster?

In the moonlit mating gathering, Prince Lucien Kassel publicly rejects his fated mate Elara Ashwyn, declaring,
“I, Prince Lucien Kassel, take Seraphine Elvyr as my chosen mate,”
while Elara stands broken before the entire Wolf Kingdom.

Years later, after Elara has built a new life and secretly raised their daughter Mira, Lucien corners her:
“I never stopped loving you, Elara Ashwyn. I rejected you to save you from the white witches who wanted you dead.”

Elara’s furious reply cuts deep:
“You watched them brand me like livestock and call me a dark witch, Lucien Kassel. I wish I had never met you.”

$$$$

In a world where wolf shifters prize strength above all, powerless orphan Elara Ashwyn survives brutal pack abuse and public rejection by Crown Prince Lucien Kassel only to discover she carries forbidden dark witch blood and secretly bears his child, Mira. Forced apart for seven years, Elara rises as a fierce corporate lawyer while Lucien becomes king, haunted by his sacrificial choice to protect her. When their paths collide again, old wounds reopen amid royal conspiracies, white-witch covens, and a daughter with explosive powers.

This unique blend of rejected-mates angst, secret-baby redemption, and witch-shifter politics delivers raw emotion, steamy second-chance passion, and a heroine who claims her crown on her own terms.

Will Elara Ashwyn forgive the man who shattered her, or will their cursed bond destroy them both?

Lena was punished for a crime she didn’t commit just to save her twin sister. But in return she was betrayed and rejected by her own destined mate, and then, worse, she was exiled from her own pack to the Darmos College.
There, her life changed when she met three hot alpha roommates.
Kai- the hot hockey player; Lucas, the doctor of the college; and Adrian, the biology professor.
“Little mouse, You are not only just our roommate—but our mate,” Lucas whispered in her ears, while rubbing her pink lips. She couldn’t believe and tried to push him away.
Suddenly, she felt another arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his bare chest body. “Whether you believe it or not, You are ours.” Kai, leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered.

The first thing they took was my baby.

The second was my parents.

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

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

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

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

I tried to die. Four times.

Now I’m done trying.

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

Lia Moreno has three serious problems: a bank account in a coma, a boss who hates her… and a mouth that doesn’t know when to shut up.

The third one turns deadly when, in the middle of the company gala, she does a “sound check” and describes the CEO as an industrial freezer… with the mic wide open in front of the city’s entire elite.

The video goes viral, the memes crown her as an anonymous heroine, and everyone bets that Adrian Vega —the legendary cold, perfect boss— will fire her at dawn.

But instead of firing her, he calls her into his office and makes her a proposal as absurd as it is dangerous:
if the world already thinks there’s something between them, why not use it to their advantage?

Now Lia, the filterless intern, has to pretend to be the girlfriend of the most intimidating man in the building.

It was supposed to be just for damage control.
It was supposed to be just a ridiculous contract.

Until the game stops feeling like a game.

"You're one hot surprise, Kristel!" "Fuck me harder!"
They lay contentedly on the carpet, and Kristel thought it was time to tell her husband about her pregnancy.
Her husband suddenly and coldly filed for divorce. Kristel was frozen as she could not believe her gentle husband had suddenly become so heartless.
"Fiona is back. You're just a bet I made with her."
"So the tenderness for me was all an illusion; in fact, you weren't in love with me?" Kristel heard her voice tremble.
Kristel quickly moved out of their mansion, her marriage to Galvin had originally come together because of the business relationship between the two families.
She had been secretly in love with Galvin for ten years and she knew that Galvin did not love her, but she was sure that through her efforts she would make Gavin fall in love with her.
While she completes her signature on the divorce papers, Galvin hesitates ...... will Kristel give him a second chance?

On their third wedding anniversary, Ava's life takes a heartbreaking turn when she discovers her husband's shocking betrayal: he’s been having an affair with her stepsister, Autumn. Devastated and feeling lost, Ava realizes the love she gave him was met with betrayal and deceit.
Now pregnant and facing heartbreak, she decides to file for divorce. Just when she thinks she can finally move on, Jerome, her ex-husband, returns, begging for a second chance and claiming he was just a pawn in Autumn's cruel game. Will Ava take a leap of faith and give love another shot, or is it time to close the door on the past for good?

They said an Omega didn't belong in their elite military academy. They were right—I didn't belong. I was meant to destroy it.
I was Celia, the scholarship nobody, the punching bag for five ruthless Alpha brothers who ruled the school like gods. The Hale brothers made my life hell just because I dared to be smarter than them. They humiliated me, tormented me, nearly killed me.
Then they murdered the only person who tried to help me.
"You think you can compete with us?" Zaxer's breath was hot against my ear as he held me over the rooftop edge. "You're nothing but a pathetic little Omega."
"Then why are you so threatened by me?" I whispered back, watching his eyes darken.
They let me fall. Krystal, the friend I trusted, kissed my tormentor while I plummeted to my death.
But I didn't die. I got my wolf. And with her came a hunger for vengeance that burned hotter than any mate bond.
Now I'm back, and the game has changed. I know their secrets, their weaknesses, their guilty consciences. They think they can corner me in empty classrooms, threaten me with those piercing stares and brutal words?
"Hit me," I dared Zaxer in front of everyone, my voice steady as steel. "Show them all what kind of Alphas you really are."
He couldn't. Because for the first time, they realized something: the broken Omega they tortured has teeth now.
They ruined me once. Killed for me twice.
But when Kaiden growled those three words—"You're our mate"—everything I thought I knew shattered.
Because how do you destroy the ones fate bound you to?
Revenge never tasted so savage. Love never cut so deep.

"Take your things and leave, Mira. I never want to see you again. The guard will bring the divorce papers. Sign them. I have already done my part. Now it is your turn."
Mira, a princess of the Silver Claw Pack, was labeled a weak omega and abandoned by her father when her wolf never appeared. Heartbroken and humiliated, she ran away and found love in the arms of Alpha Adrien of another pack. Their marriage fell apart when Mira could not conceive, and Adrien's betrayal cut deeper than any wound.
Framed, banished, and left to hit rock bottom, Mira's suffering awakened the powerful, long-dormant wolf within her. Now stronger, fiercer, and unrecognizable, she returns to her home pack not as a broken princess but as a force to be reckoned with.
At the homecoming celebration organized by her father, Adrien, the man who once discarded her, is stunned. The woman he betrayed now commands respect and fear as a dominant leader. He begs for her back, but Mira is no longer the woman he left behind. This time, she is taking everything he once stole from her and more.

WARNING:This is an 18+ novel containing explicit male/male sexual content and mature themes.

“If this marriage means nothing to you, then let me go when the contract ends.”

I said those words to Ryan, even though they nearly broke my heart.

I had loved him since I was nineteen.

Now I was his husband—but only because a contract said I could be.

I knew Ryan never promised me love. I knew our marriage was nothing more than a business arrangement between an Alpha billionaire and a male Omega who needed his help.

So I stopped dreaming.

I stopped asking.

I stopped hoping that the way he protected me, cared for my mother, and became increasingly possessive meant something more.

Then I made the only decision that could save my heart.

I would leave when our contract expired.

But somehow, the moment I stopped chasing Ryan…

He started chasing me.

The man who once said our marriage was only business suddenly couldn't stand my distance.

And now I have one terrifying question:

What happens when the Alpha who never wanted my love realizes he can't live without it?

I once believed that if I was obedient enough, my birth family would finally love me. Instead, they gave everything to Anna, the fake heiress—my competition spot, my reputation, even my kidney.
Then I opened my eyes and returned to the year it all began.
This time, I won’t beg. I won’t yield. My achievements, my dignity, and my life belong to me.
When everyone called me vicious, Damian Sterling draped his jacket over my shoulders and asked in a low voice, “Am I an outsider?”
I leaned into him and smiled. “Of course not.”
But soon I discovered he was being slowly poisoned—and the culprit might be someone closest to him. Worse, the truth behind my death in my previous life may be darker than I ever imagined…

1

When the hospital called, I thought I was going to lose him.

The moment I burst into his room, Nathan was alive, but the way he looked at me, like I was a complete stranger.

"I'm sorry, you are...?"

My husband had forgotten everything. Three years of marriage, from the moment we met to falling in love, all erased.

But what's even more absurd? He stared at his bother Nolan and said, "Did I just... fall in love at first sight with a stranger?"

Listening to him frantically ask Nolan in the hospital room "Is this normal?", a crazy idea suddenly hit me—

Three years ago, Nathan "acquired" me in just three months. From his secretary to his wife, so fast it felt like closing a business deal. I loved him, but something was always missing... like a real courtship, real romance.

Now, he has amnesia.

What if I told him we were just in a contract marriage? That our contract was ending soon and we were about to separate?

I am Mandy Langley, 42 years old, CEO of Sterling International. In Manhattan's cutthroat business world, I'd earned the name "Ice Queen."
Five years divorced, my ex-husband's parting words still stung—he'd called me cold as stone, said I was nothing but a dictator even in bed.
He had no idea my frost was a facade, hiding an emptiness and a craving no one could touch.
I controlled billions in assets, yet I lay awake every night, consumed by a single thought: I wanted a man to make me let go, to force me to surrender completely.
That man walked into my office three years ago, and I'd been drowning ever since.
Allen Thorne, my chief assistant, 28 years old—too young, shamefully young, and yet I couldn't resist him.
A year ago, I discovered the truth: he was the CEO of Vortex Capital, my rival, planted here to destroy me.
I should've fired him on the spot. Instead, I kept him close, pretending it was to watch him, when really, I just couldn't let him go.
Dangerous, magnetic, ruthlessly in control—he was everything I shouldn't want. I never exposed him. I fell harder instead.
I buried this forbidden desire, but every day he was there, right in front of me, taunting me.
What was I supposed to do? Cut him loose—or let him claim me?

On the eve of my mating ceremony, my twin sister and I were abducted by rogues.
My Alpha fiancé and my parents drained our territory's wealth, but only bought back my sister Elara's life.
Upon her safe return, Elara seamlessly took my place, claiming my marking ceremony to become his Luna.
Meanwhile, left to rot in the rogue camp, a wolfsbane-laced blade violently carved out my wolf's essence.
Tossed into the wilderness like rotting meat, stripped of my ability to shift and bear pups, I became the Crescent Pack's ultimate disgrace.
Forsaken by my pack, Silas—Alpha of the Obsidian Pack and my childhood friend—defied the Council’s fury. Under the Moon Goddess, he publicly marked me, sheltering me like an absolute treasure.
But now, in the third year of our bond, I accidentally knocked over a half-sealed Memory crystal in his study.
It projected a hidden dark magic ritual into mid-air, tearing the lie of that kidnapping to shreds in an instant.
In the projection, Silas held my sister's hand, his eyes brimming with a sickening devotion.
"Don't be afraid, Elara. Aria's twin essence is a perfect match. With this, you'll safely carry pups with the strongest Alpha bloodline."
A heartbeat later, Silas approached my blindfolded, bound body.
With zero mercy or numbing agents, he carved out my essence with his own hands, drowning out my agonizing howls.

We’ve been married for almost a month, yet my Alpha keeps hiding in the study to avoid me.
He would rather give me a cheap vial of synthetic bonding pheromones than bare his fangs at me.
I thought I was just the unwanted substitute for my runaway sister, that he felt absolutely nothing for me.
I slammed the door and left, heading to the Moon Well to confide. But the moment my blood dripped in, the Alpha's voice echoed:
"I finally married her... but I was born with a curse. How do I mark her without hurting her the moment I bite down..."

In my past life , I was delivering supplies in the scorching heat of the apocalypse , only to have my ex-wife 's lover smash my head with a stick.
daughter, whom I've spoiled for sixteen years, looked at me with disgust: "Pretending to be a good girl is disgusting. Kill him and take his supplies."
When she opened her eyes again, her daughter had been reborn.
She cried and clung to my legs, begging to be taken in, all to trick me into believing she was building a shelter.
I decided to play along, spending all my savings to build her a top-of-the-line temperature-controlled fortress, and then "meticulously" teaching her the secrets of switching on the electric grid.
As the apocalypse arrives, the ex-wife and her lover launch a night raid on the high wall.
my daughter pressed the switch, trying to let her father in and kick me out the door.
The next second, with a loud "boom," the multi-million-volt high-voltage power grid was instantly activated !
The daughter collapsed in the control room, trembling : "Why is the switch upside down?!"

The day he proposed, Atticus knelt before me, holding the Hale family's heirloom necklace.
I thought I had finally survived the ordeal.
After eight years of unrequited love, being humiliated by his sister, nitpicked by his mother, and mocked by the city's socialites for being unworthy of the Hales... Until this very moment, when he personally fastened the heirloom around my neck. Everyone saw it. I, Clara, was finally accepted by the Hale family.
Tears in my eyes, I said yes, thinking it was the happiest moment of my life.
But just days after putting on that necklace, bizarre red rashes crawled up my neck. My pale skin rotted away piece by piece, and my internal organs went into irreversible failure.
The most absurd part? The exact same day I started rotting, his dying mother miraculously cured her terminal illness, and his sister's half-destroyed face was restored to flawless perfection.
Disfigured and barely looking human, I threw myself off the Harbour Bridge—
I opened my eyes, and I was back on the day of the proposal.

Five years into living with my stepbrother Gideon, the scholarship girl he sponsored moved into our house.
To repay his "generosity," she made a habit of slipping into his bed at night. By day, she took it upon herself to "fix" my antisocial, withdrawn personality.
Three days before St. George Prep's graduation ceremony, she brought me a glass of juice wearing that nauseating sugar-sweet smile.
"You know, Charlotte, your peanut allergy is probably psychosomatic. You just need some exposure therapy. Let me help you get over it."
That night, my throat closed completely. She'd deliberately laced my drink with concentrated peanut extract.
I convulsed on the cold hardwood floor, vision tunneling as oxygen fled my lungs.
In the last second before darkness swallowed me whole, I clawed desperately toward the half-open door.
Standing in the hallway were my boyfriend Dylan and my stepbrother Gideon.
They simply watched me suffocate. Then Gideon calmly reached out and shut the door.
I died from anaphylactic shock.
Three months later, as a ghost tethered to this world, I watched her stride onto Stanford's campus. Wearing my clothes. Carrying my acceptance letter. Burning through my trust fund.
Through the crowd, I saw Gideon—my ice-cold, unreachable stepbrother—gently cradle her face and press his lips to hers.
Then I gasped awake.
I was back. Three days before graduation.

I was here because of missed periods and abnormal bleeding—a suspected threatened miscarriage.

When asked about our relationship, my boyfriend didn't even look at me.

"We're just classmates," he told the nurse.

He thought he was cutting ties with a worthless nobody so he could chase after a billionaire's daughter.

What he didn't know was... I was the heiress he was desperately looking for.

I used to be the executive chef at a three-Michelin-star restaurant in New York. Then I worked in my son’s kitchen for three years without being paid a cent.

I sold my old house in Brooklyn to cover the restaurant’s startup costs. I even used my retirement savings to pay for the restaurant’s premium ingredients.

That night, I prepared an entire dinner for eighty guests by myself. By the time I finished, it was after midnight, and my stomach hurt from hunger. My protégé, Leon, cooked me a steak with an extra piece of Wagyu.

I had barely taken my first bite when my daughter-in-law, Jessica, stormed in and knocked the plate to the floor.

“David, get in here! Your mother’s hiding in the kitchen, stuffing herself with our most expensive ingredients!”

Leon jumped to my defense. “Chef paid for that herself!”

Jessica sneered. “With what money? David’s the one supporting her.”

But David hadn’t given me a cent in three years.

I looked at my son, waiting for him to stand up for me.

Instead, he tugged irritably at his tie. “Mom, taking the restaurant’s most expensive food without asking is stealing.”

Jessica pressed harder. “Today it’s beef. Tomorrow she’ll be stealing from the register.”

David nodded. “Just apologize to Jessica, Mom.”

I laughed in disbelief and ripped off my apron.

“Apologize? I quit.”

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

I used to be the most envied female on the continent. Three mates: werewolf Alpha Kael, vampire lord Dorian, elven ranger Seth. All of them mine.
Then a half-elf drifter named Ayla showed up, and everything I had started belonging to her instead, one piece at a time.
Kael once pulled a fang from his own mouth to make me a necklace. The day it broke, he was too busy licking another female's cut finger to notice.
Dorian spent two weeks brewing me blood wine. Then he handed the cup straight to her, because apparently I "looked healthy enough to go without."
Seth carved me a charm from sacred elven wood. I watched her face take shape under his knife instead of mine.
They kept telling me I needed to grow up. So when a beast's poison was spreading through my body, and I blew the whistle they swore would bring them running no matter what—
No one came.
Three years later, I walked back into their world on a Siren prince's arm.
This time, they're the ones begging for my forgiveness.

It was my second year back in this house.
My name was Evelyn, the biological daughter who got lost in Central Park at seven.
During the ten years I stayed missing, I fed pigs on a remote farm in Eastern Europe. In weather that dropped to dozens below zero, I got beaten for working too slowly.
I did not get brought back until I was seventeen, covered in scars, returned to this so-called “home,” luxurious to the point of being blinding.
To be honest, every time I watched them sit on silk sofas and sip afternoon tea, then thought about the decade I spent crawling through hell, hatred made my teeth ache.
That hatred stood between us and made the house feel like an icebox. We lived under the same roof, yet we were not even as close as strangers.

I was four months pregnant when the truck hit my car.
I woke up on a gurney outside the OR, bleeding, half-conscious, thinking my husband was saving my life. Then I heard him through the door.
"The baby's gone. Her right hand is finished—her career's over either way. Just take her kidney now and put it in Mia."
My mother agreed. My father told him to switch my architectural draft to Mia's name before Friday.
Mia. The sister they'd raised for twenty years while I was missing. The sister whose body was failing. The sister my husband had apparently been in love with the whole time I was married to him.
I was supposed to die on that table. I wasn't supposed to hear anything.
But my phone was in my coat pocket, and the voice memo app had never stopped recording.
And now I had a choice to make.