3297 Book(s) Related to my three wives are beautiful vampires novel

He’s ruthless, calculating, and driven by vengeance. She’s warmth, light, and everything he never dared to want.

For years, his only focus has been revenge—love was never in the equation. But when he's tasked with protecting his best friend’s little sister, the walls he’s built begin to crumble.

She finds good in everyone, even the man who warns her to stay away. He’s cold, possessive, and dangerously addictive. Yet, despite every warning, she falls for the one person who could break her beyond repair.

Because when love and obsession collide, the fallout is anything but predictable.

Before Lauren Jones's hand touched the bedroom door, she had heard the sound of people having sex in the room. A woman's deep moan was mixed with a man's low gasps that she couldn't be more familiar with.

Lauren frowned, held back her hand, and kicked the door open.

The two entangled bodies in the room made her feel nauseous, so she turned her head in disgust, covering her mouth and nose.

The lean and handsome man on the bed stopped, glanced coldly at the uninvited guest at the door, and slapped the woman under him on the plump buttocks, "Get out."

"If you ask me, I can shorten your imprisonment period. But you have to ask nicely," Sebastian Crowley said with a sly grin.
"Mr. Crowley, you should be more careful when having one-night stands with women," Vivienne Scully retorted coolly. She had promised herself that the night with Sebastian was purely for revenge. Why was he still pestering her? Did he think he had fallen in love with her?

Larisa Starr, a kind , strong and best female warrior though can have a nasty temper most times was tagged as a murderer from the incident that killed her sister which made her father loathe her so much, no one could prove her innocence except the strange man that saved her from falling down the cliff. Her father threw her to her sister’s mate to get even with him and also help in straightening his pack which she objected to but as always, she has no say in whatever happens in her life ever since Hazel died. With a heavy heart, she went to the bar to knock herself off. She came across her strange savior again, emotions that had bottled up inside both of them spilled to the surface while they had one passionate night that feels like forever… covered in shame on how she threw herself on the man without knowing who he is...to add to her problem, she realized that she was pregnant for the stranger. Can her life ever get better?

Aria is desperate. Her best friend, Lena, needs surgery.

A mysterious offer appears: a contract to spend 30 nights with a rich man who needs a virgin.

The payment equals the surgery cost.

Aria signs, thinking it’s a shameful but harmless deal.

She’s taken to Kael Donovan’s estate, massive, intimidating, surrounded by forest.

Kael is distant, treating her like an object.

He believes she’s just another human pure but replaceable.

Their first night is awkward, tense, electric. She senses something feral in him.

Development
Kael’s wolf, Rhett, reacts violently the moment he touches her growling “Mate.”

Kael refuses to believe it. The curse shouldn’t allow him a mate.

He decides to keep her anyway for the sake of breaking the curse.

Aria feels strange sensations hearing whispers, her senses sharpening but thinks it’s fear.

Kael starts acting possessive, jealous when she smiles at his guards.

He hates how much he wants her. She hates how much she needs him.

Their nights turn passionate and raw, but he still keeps his heart locked.

Aria’s emotions deepen. She starts to see the man behind the Alpha.

Rising Tension
Aria learns bits about the curse Kael’s pack is dying out, and his inability to bond might destroy them.

Selene Voss, Kael’s chosen fiancée by alliance, visits the mansion.

She instantly despises Aria, sensing the mate bond before Kael admits it.

Selene begins plotting.

I was born into blood. Into power. Into a family that calls me the curse.
My fate? To marry the son of our enemy.
My rebellion? To lie—and claim I was in love with Kian O’Sullivan.
Now the lie is my prison.
Kian isn’t my savior. He’s a wolf dressed in silk, a monster with grey eyes who would rather break me than hold me.
But when the bullets start flying and our enemies circle closer… he’s the only one standing between me and death.
And maybe the only man dangerous enough to make me beg for it.
NOTE: This is a DARK ROMANCE story. It includes disturbing content like: Extreme violence, torture, degradation, BDSM, drugging, Somnophila, self harm. Sexual assault and group sex(not including the main leads). Both main leads are red flags!

I knew three things about him:
He wore a mask.
He never spoke in public.
And he never, ever lost a match.

They call him The Phantom, the undefeated underground wrestling god, No one knows a thing about him except he was a son of a legendary wrestler, I was supposed to stay far away, he ruined my life without him knowing.
I stayed far from him
Until I was forced to be his PR crisis Manager, a man I very well hated, for destroying my family, but that was not enough when i was forced to marry him.
the very same monster, i have been running away from.
But the marriage come with unexpected surprises, things aren’t what they seemed
My husband wants me but he plays dirty. And the deeper I fall into his brutal grip, the more I crave the pain, the power, and the man underneath the mask.
He says I’m his weakness.
But I just might be his downfall.
And in a world where losing isn't an option, loving him could ruin us both

I lost my fertility saving my husband’s life. His reward was a mistress who got pregnant.

Three years ago, I took a poisoning blade meant for my husband Marcus, saving his life and destroying my fertility. The poisoning left me ""damaged goods""—his mistress's favorite term for me. While I struggled with grief over the children we'd never have, Marcus found someone who could give him everything I supposedly couldn't.

When I think back to overhearing his judgment of me, I still can’t stop myself from trembling: “That infertile piece of sh*t.”

My so-called perfect husband.

The betrayal was devastating enough. But Vera, his pregnant twenty-six-year-old trainer, had a talent for twisting the knife.

Look what your husband helped me pick out yesterday, she'd text, sending photos of baby clothes and ultrasounds. He's so excited about becoming a father. His first REAL child.

Sweet dreams, Mrs. Gray. While you're alone in bed, I'll be showing your husband what he's been missing.

Each message was a calculated attack designed to break what remained of my spirit. She'd call during family dinners, text during our rare intimate moments, send photos of Marcus's gifts—jewelry I'd never received, romantic gestures he'd never made for me. The message was clear: I was the expired wife being phased out for the upgraded model.

I cried until I had no tears left. I planned my escape to Paris, signed divorce papers, and prepared my revenge."

Word spreads all across the underworld, a running joke everyone whispers: Wanna take down Don Dante?
Don’t waste your time digging up dirt on him—come straight for me instead. But good luck pulling it off.
First you’d have to cut through three layers of snipers posted at my side, blast your way past five full squads of close-quarters bodyguards, and dodge the armed attack helicopter circling overhead 24/7.
Once, I only got a tiny bug bite from a mosquito. That very night, three district capos vanished off the face of the earth without a trace.
And yet this man who’d burn the whole world down to keep me safe shoved me away on our wedding night.
He brought another woman into our elaborately decorated bridal suite and spent the whole night tangled up with her.
For every single minute they spent tangled together inside, I slammed my fists against that door right outside.
I stared at that face etched deep into my bones, watched him speak words that sounded totally foreign, hold another woman close—and I couldn’t wrap my head around any of it.
Where’d the man who once jumped in front of a bullet to shield me go?

I woke up, and my world collapsed.

Lying next to me was Sebastian—the golden boy, the heir to the Rhodes empire, and the nemesis who has tormented me for twenty years.

I fled. I swore to take that night to my grave. If I kept my mouth shut, no one would know.

But Fate has a twisted sense of humor. Five weeks later, two red lines on a pregnancy test slapped me in the face. I’m pregnant. And the father isn’t just my childhood nightmare. He’s the man who just bought my company. My new boss.

I tried to hide. He hunted me down. He scares off my dates. He tramples my pride. He invades my life like a tyrant. He mocks me in public, yet destroys anyone who touches me in private.

"Nancy, did you really think you could escape?" He pins me against the wall, his eyes dark, that familiar scent of cedar suffocating me. "Admit it. You hate me, but you need me."

My brother chose my enemy, and the man I loved joined forces with her to sell me into a club.
Pregnancy, miscarriage, imprisonment, beatings—every cry for help I made was dismissed as "just an act."
It wasn't until I was truly dead that they lost their minds, dropping to their knees at my grave and sobbing that they were sorry.
But by then, I could no longer hear them.

My father died owing the Callahan family a blood debt. His payment? Me and my sister—married off to their sons.

I woke up reborn on the night they buried him.

Standing in that funeral chamber, watching the lawyer crack open the sealed will, I discovered I could suddenly hear thoughts. My sister Vivienne's voice ripped through my head: Not marrying that butcher. No way in hell.

She lunged forward and grabbed Adrian—the refined bastard son who looked like a lawyer instead of a mobster. The same "perfect gentleman" I married in my past life.

Which left me with Dominic Callahan. The scarred heir. The Executioner.

Last time around, Vivienne married Dominic and got beaten down for years. I married Adrian and lived like a queen.

I almost laughed out loud.

Because she has no idea—this time, she's the one who grabbed the monster.

My fiancé and I got engaged, then he joined an academic project in another state that required him to stay for a year.

I agreed to wait for him to come back and get married, with plans to see each other once a month.

But for the entire year, he found excuses every month to avoid seeing me.

Even when my mother was critically ill, I called him crying, but the phone always went to cold voicemail.

That day I drove three hours to find him and waited outside his apartment for a long time.

He still never replied.

So I stopped waiting for him and married a man who treated me well.

Who knew that when he found out I got married, he regretted it.

My sister's husband showed up on the gossip pages with his first love, so Claire decided to divorce him. Then she asked whether I was leaving too.

"Of course," I said.

I had been my sister's shadow since we were kids. Claire was smart, capable, and brave enough for both of us. She married billionaire CEO Grant Whitaker, and I married his younger brother, Cole. Following her had given me a home, a career, and a husband who made me forget how much I liked sleeping.

If Claire left the Whitaker family, I was leaving with her.

Cole's eyes went red when he found my packed suitcases. He backed me into the watch cabinet and gripped my waist hard.

"My brother may have cheated," he said. "I didn't. I'm not giving you a divorce."

I always thought Arthur's surgical hands were a gift from God.

When my sister Emily was crushed in a car crash, he spent ten grueling hours in the OR. He emerged exhausted, eyes red, and pulled me tight. "I'm sorry, Anna. I tried everything," he whispered. "But her heart... it can still save someone else."

I believed him. God help me, I even thanked him.

A year later, I cracked his locked safe and found a black flash drive.

The security footage showed my husband hovering over Emily's ICU bed. He didn't call for help. He didn't try to save her. He just watched her oxygen drop, then calmly reached out and yanked her breathing tube.

One room over, his first love was waiting for a heart transplant.

Just like that, my world vanished. My husband wasn't a savior in a white coat. He was an executioner.

Three years ago, to save my Clan Lord husband from a hunter's death trap, I forced him to stop at the border.

Instead, his First Embrace, Seraphina, crossed in his place and was burned to ashes.

Shattered by her death, he suffered a breakdown and was diagnosed with Crimson Frenzy.

For three years, I let him wildly drain my source blood, cheating death in underground clinics countless times.

This time, his violent feeding caused a miscarriage and permanently destroyed my ability to conceive.

Yet, while still in agony and desperate to find him a cure, I overheard his secret conversation with the butler.

"My Lord, Seraphina is still alive. Why keep faking this illness? If the Madame finds out and severs the Blood Pact..."

"Sever it? What right does she have? If she hadn't blocked me back then, Seraphina would never have run off with another vampire. She deserves every bit of this suffering!"

My roommate provoked a demon, dragging me into a deadly hunt. Eerie mirror visions and ominous warnings kept coming. Just as I was on the verge of breaking, I discovered my roommate was hiding a shocking secret—and my being hunted was never an accident.

"Without her designs, none of this would have happened." My husband raised his glass to me in front of everyone.
Eight years of marriage. Five years building this company from a moldy basement. I thought we'd finally made it—until that night, when his mistress's messages lit up his iPad: "You hurt me on the couch last night." "You promised to marry me and let me move into your villa. I can't wait anymore."
I gave this man eight whole years—my talent, my entire youth. And he wanted to take it all to support his mistress.
Sorry, darling. I'm not the fool you married anymore.

I loved Lia Rockefeller for ten years, and it cost me everything.
When she said the cheerleaders were ganging up on her, I charged in and took the punches for her.
When she cried that her stepsister would ruin her at Yale, I tore up my acceptance letter right then and there.
When she held me tight in the middle of the night and whispered, "I'm so lucky to have you"—I thought it meant forever.
Three months later, I overheard her laughing in the locker room—laughing at me.
"Ian's like a lapdog. So easy to play. Now that Yale spot's open, Emmett can go with me instead."
The bullying was staged. The tears were fake. Those intimate embraces? Just tools to control me—to keep me loyal while she slept with her side piece.
She thought I'd still take a punch for her, even with a broken nose.
She thought I'd never wake up.
I'm awake now.
In her stepsister Serena's bed.

The world honored Professor Guo Zhenghua for his devotion to justice—and praised his wife, Lin Wanyu, as a woman of rare integrity.
But Lin Wanyu was not her name.
The real Lin Wanyu was my grandmother. She died in a remote village without legal papers, a marked grave, or anyone willing to admit who she was.
When the impostors’ grandson demanded a position at my law firm, I told him no.
By morning, his family had taken my career.
By noon, I had opened the file that could take everything from them.

I died on that operating table.

Arthur cut my five-year-old son Leo open and took his kidneys to save his bastard kid. Leo died. I died. They threw us out like garbage in the snow.

But I came back.

Back to that same rainy night. This time when Arthur tried stealing Leo's life-saving medicine for that bitch Lily, I slapped her face to pieces.

Outside the OR, Arthur shoved donation papers at me. I laughed and dialed a number I'd buried five years ago.

"Viktor? Your sister needs a favor. Bring your guns."

Explosions echoed through the hospital as my brother walked through the smoke.

"Nobody touches my nephew." His gun pressed against Arthur's forehead.

Arthur was scared shitless: "Jesus Christ... you're a Rockwell?!"

Too bad he figured it out too late.

My son Leo died in the snow. Three rogue wolves tore him apart that winter night.

My Alpha mate Carl didn't hunt them down. Instead, he brought home Elena—his childhood sweetheart—and her five-year-old bastard.

"Leo died because you failed as Luna," he said, pushing the boy toward me. "You'll raise him as our heir."

I looked into those cold eyes, and something inside me died.

At the cliff, I severed our bond in front of the entire pack. Then I jumped.

That unbreakable Alpha? He shattered completely.

My name is Damian Lemaître.

In my past life, I was Serafina Camarilla's lapdog for ten years, being drained of my life, used, and squeezed dry of my last bit of value.

I opened my eyes and found myself back at the scene of the blood pact ceremony. She sat on the high seat, waiting for me to kneel down and swear the oath with the same excitement as in my previous life.

"Damian Flamel, are you willing?"

"No."

Intro: I'm an S-Class superhuman, but I was locked in a basement for five full years, subjected to inhuman abuse and torment. All they wanted was to drain my blood and energy dry. I once believed that if I could just endure it all, I would see my family again. Until my wife Valen's voice came through the intercom and revealed that it was all a lie. I will turn my fury into strength and tear it all apart with my own hands.

The day I signed the divorce papers, Ethan Frost lit up the night sky with thousands of drones spelling out, ‘Vivian Moore, I love you.’ The whole city celebrated his new romance.
On our daughter, Sophie’s birthday, he watched coldly as Vivian’s daughter snatched away her favorite Elsa princess cake—and didn’t even blink when I was shoved down the stairs. Bleeding and trembling, I looked up to see him tenderly massaging Vivian’s feet.
But what truly shattered me was the day Sophie struggled in the pool—Ethan held me back, eyes dark, roaring, “What do you want?”
Later, he scrambled to Sophie’s photo on his knees, crying “Where’s Sophie? Bring her out.” While I only felt absurd, I smiled through my tears “you will never see Sophie again—ever.”

Three years ago, I was the sole surviving legendary mage of Ash Valley. To fulfill my comrade's dying wish, I married into the Robert family, becoming a despised and bullied son-in-law . For three years, I endured torment and humiliation; my entire family treated me like trash . My wife handed me divorce papers , then accepted the marriage proposal of a nobleman. On my wedding day, I walked into the hall in old clothes, and everyone laughed, thinking I was crazy. Until I shattered all magic with a wave of my hand, my legendary presence overwhelming everyone present, the woman who had once despised me finally cried and asked me: Why did you lie to me?

I’m a top assassin.

Three years ago, on a rainy night, I was being hunted when a stranger took a bullet for me. As he lay dying, he grabbed my hand and begged me to protect his son—and to keep living in his place.

To escape my pursuers and keep that promise, I changed my face, took his identity, and stayed by the boy’s side as his father.

His wife was arrogant, cruel, and constantly cheating. For the child—and to protect my cover—I endured all of it.

Until today.

She drugged me.

When I woke up, a doctor was holding a blade over my chest. They were about to take my heart.

Lying on that operating table, I finally learned the truth: her family had been trafficking organs all along.

That man died three years ago because he discovered it, and she arranged the crash that killed him.

She murdered the man who saved me. Now she wants to kill me too.

She still thinks I’m the same weak doctor who gets out of breath after a short run.

She doesn’t know I’m resistant to anesthesia.

And she definitely doesn’t know these hands have held scalpels—and snapped far too many necks.

At the magic academy’s party, I overheard my werewolf boyfriend in the lounge saying he was going to destroy me.

"Alexander, her magic core is merely experiencing a temporary disruption. According to the academy infirmary's suturing protocol, her magical output will fully recover in three days. Why did you lie and tell her the core is necrotic and must be dug out?" the school doctor asked.

My werewolf boyfriend's deep voice was as cold as silver salt scraping across glass—

"If she doesn't drop out of the Magic Scroll Championship finals, how can Vivienne win?"
"I cannot let her destroy Vivienne's dream!"

I froze in the shadows of the corridor, my fingertips going numb.
It turned out that the love I believed in, the protection and the future he kept promising me, were nothing but him treating me as an obstacle to his childhood sweetheart's success.

If that’s the case—

I don't need this man anyway!

My mafia husband has a childhood sweetheart. Whenever she or her son needed anything, he would eagerly rush to their aid.
This time, when our son Noah suffered from acute retinopathy and desperately needed his signature for surgery, he claimed she was in mortal danger and couldn't leave.
Because he wasn't there to sign the paperwork, Noah ultimately went blind.
Yet later, on his sweetheart's Instagram, I saw that he was just dining with her and her son...

"I fell in love with a stranger. I didn't know he was my brother."
When I first saw Victor, I didn't see a sibling. I saw a man who set my skin on fire. I saw a pair of dark eyes that reflected my own soul. Our attraction wasn't just a choice—it was a gravity I couldn't escape. For weeks, we existed in a fever dream of late nights and whispered promises, building a future on a foundation I never knew was forbidden.
Then the truth came out. One old photograph, a single name, and my world shattered.
Now, the touch that felt like heaven feels like a sin. But how do you stop your heart from beating for the one person you were never supposed to touch?

In my past life, I signed a marriage agreement, served as a live-in son-in-law for five years, and died in a hospital. Meanwhile, my "wife," Grace, was on the moon, embracing her lover and watching the star rings.
Given a second chance, she threw the agreement in my face at the marriage summit: "Sign it. After the wedding, I'll go find Karl. You'd better act like the legal wife."
I didn't refuse; I just tossed the agreement to my emotional nemesis .
The whole city laughed at my madness.
Until Grace flaunted her "pure-blood heir" at the 100-day celebration, I publicly projected her sterilization report—
the bastard in her arms was the product of her lover and a downtown prostitute.
And her lover was being mutilated in the downtown area.
In this life, I'm not a live-in son-in-law; I'm her gravedigger.

A hundred years ago, I was the strongest Delta the Silver Moon Pack had ever produced.

Born with the God Bone, unmatched in power, I had Royal Guard recruiters showing up at my door three times, waiting for me to say yes. The whole pack assumed I'd lead them to glory.

Then came that night. My own family dragged me to the altar in the frozen vault.

My mother cried and said, "Lacey was born broken. Without the God Bone, she'll die."

"You're the older sister. You're strong. You'll survive without it."

I refused.

Grant, my fiancé, pulled the knife on me. Brandon, my brother, pinned down my arms and legs. My parents watched from the shadows, saying nothing.

"Don't be so selfish."

They carved the God Bone out of my body, drained every drop of my heart's blood, and threw me into a vault fifty degrees below zero.

My sister took everything that was mine and became the golden girl everyone adored.

A hundred years passed. I became the Supreme Commander of the Royal Guard.

This year, during recruitment, my adjutant handed me the candidate list. I saw a familiar name and smiled. I picked up my pen and crossed it out.

"Doesn't meet the requirements. Denied."

On the night before my sister's bone marrow transplant, my parents confiscated my EpiPen and locked me in the attic.

Their "genetic consultant" warned them that the medication would contaminate the stem cells meant for my sister.

I had eaten the meal they provided—one secretly laced with lethal traces of nuts.

The resulting anaphylactic swelling was suffocating me completely.

I frantically bashed my head against the door. "My pen... Mom, I can't breathe..."

"Stop putting on a show!" Mom snapped through the wood. "That meal was entirely nut-free! Are you faking an allergic reaction just because you can't stand the thought of your sister finally getting well?"

Her footsteps retreated.

Agonizing pain and oxygen deprivation overtook me as I clawed at the floor until every one of my nails snapped off.

Until my breathing stopped completely.

Not long after I transferred to this school, I became the bullies’ favorite target.
They didn’t like how quiet I was or how pale I looked, so they casually slapped me with a nickname: “vampire.”
It started with shoves in the hallway and jeers in the classroom, escalated to messing with my drink, then stuffing trash into my locker.
They treated my silence as permission and wrapped every provocation in the same excuse: “Just a joke.”
Until that night, when humiliation wasn’t enough. They lured me into a tiny storage room behind the auditorium—locked the door, killed the lights, set up a fixed camera—ready to strap me to a chair and film an “execution” video that would make sure I could never hold my head up at this school again.
What they didn’t know was that the nickname wasn’t a joke. It was the one time they got the truth right.
I really am a vampire.

"You were meant to be my death. Instead, you've become my damnation."
Aria Thornwell has spent three years as a healer in her town, attempting to forget the night her former fiancé publically humiliated her by selecting her affluent stepsister instead—taking Aria's family fortune with him. Now, she lives quietly, utilizing her skill to aid the underprivileged while her stepfamily flaunts their stolen fortune.

But on the winter solstice, everything changes. She's chosen as the ceremonial bride for the vampires' holy Winter Feast—a "honor" that guarantees death at daybreak following the Christmas Eve rite. Dragged to the Crimson Vale with five other human tributes, Aria is prepared to meet her fate with dignity.

Until she meets him.

Lord Sebastian Thorne, the ancient vampire who has presided over the Winter Feast for eight centuries, is meant to drain her at dawn following the binding ritual. It's tradition. It's law. It's survival—the ceremonial blood maintains the vampire realm for another year.

But as Sebastian's lips brush her throat in the ceremonial hall, something unbelievable happens. Her blood doesn't simply sustain him—it wakes something in him that's been dead for generations. And in a move that shocks the whole vampire court, he refuses to complete the rite.
"This one is mine," he proclaims, his old strength sweeping the hall. "Anyone who touches her answers to me."

Trapped in the Obsidian Palace as Sebastian's "protected bride," Aria discovers three frightening truths: Sebastian isn't protecting her out of mercy—he's dying from an ancient curse, and her blood is the only thing keeping him alive past Christmas; the vampire court will do anything to kill her and reinstate the ritual; and her "ordinary" healer's gift is actually a rare and dangerous power that vampire nobility has been hunting for generations.

For five years of marriage, I endured my Alpha King husband's cold neglect because he claimed to suffer from "Bond Deficiency Syndrome," making him incapable of falling in love with his fated mate.

I took a silver bullet for him, yet when danger struck, he abandoned me without hesitation and ran to another woman.

It wasn't until I got pregnant with his Double Alpha heir and went to surprise him that I overheard his cold voice outside the door: "The illness is faked. Once she gives birth to the heir, this marriage can end."

It turned out he understood everything; he just didn't love me.

I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I faked my death during an attack, leaving behind nothing but a blood-soaked wedding ring.

Later, the Alpha King who claimed he couldn't feel love went completely mad.

He abandoned his territory and searched for me for a year and a half.

But when he finally knelt in the blizzard, begging me to come back, my child was resting on another man's shoulder, sweetly babbling the word "Daddy."

While I was being kidnapped, tortured, and murdered in the horse stable of our own family farm, my all-powerful chaebol fiancée was helping my green tea younger brother try on wedding attire.
Before dying, with my broken, blood-stained finger, I dialed the last desperate call for help.
On the other end of the phone, her tone was filled with scorn and impatience: "Vincent, can't you even tolerate a little grievance from your younger brother? Let's just cancel the engagement, and I'll replace you with him as the groom."
Later, I truly died.
My soul drifted in mid-air, watching coldly as the whole family thought I was faking death to make a scene. My older sister even kicked over my disfigured body on the haystack in disgust: "Get up right now, stop pretending to be pitiful here!"
Until the flashlight's beam completely illuminated my ghastly, rigid face, and the shattered phone screen, still stuck on the moment she hung up, clutched tightly in my dead hand...
That forever aloof, arrogant female CEO finally went weak in the knees, kneeling in the foul-smelling, blood-soaked filth, and utterly lost her mind.

For Joey, I shouldered the blame for a commercial crime and survived five years behind bars—alone, even through a miscarriage.

With only five days left on my sentence, his secretary flaunted a “bonus” transfer from him—521,314—and when I left one mild comment, she blocked me.

I got released early on Christmas, wanting to surprise my husband. Instead, I pushed open our bedroom door and found Joey and Betty in our marital bed, deep in their sick little games.

And then I overheard a phone call that shattered everything: my little sister, Sansa, hadn’t died from a surgical “accident” at all. Joey had bribed the surgeon and had her heart cut out—so his mistress could gain a werewolf’s healing ability and keep having some perverted sex on bed.

He lied to me, used me, murdered my sister—and still mocked me for I was nothing without him.

I’m a retired special forces soldier.

Three months ago, my little brother vanished—and every lead went dead.

I tracked the trail to a private rehab clinic on a tropical island. On the surface, it’s wellness and recovery. Underneath, it’s an organ market.

Following the clinic led me to one person—her. She specializes in luring “donors” through the front door.

To avenge my brother, I got close on purpose and let her become my girlfriend.

She thought I was easy money, a body delivered to her table, and she brought me into that clinic herself.

She didn’t know I’d been waiting for this moment for three months.

On the operating table, the needle hovered three centimeters from my skin.

She thought I was finished.

She didn’t know these hands have held a gun—and snapped more than a few necks.

In my past life, my brother-in-law predicted the coming of an extreme cold apocalypse and claimed he would awaken a spatial ability on the day it arrived.
I didn't believe him, but under pressure from my wife's family, I purchased supplies anyway. Then the frozen apocalypse actually came.
I thought we'd survive together as a family, but my brother-in-law had bragged about his spatial ability and massive supplies before awakening. When his ability manifested, the space was pitifully small, and everyone he'd told came to rob us.
When food ran out, my wife's family turned on me, killing and eating me.
Reborn, I've decided to take revenge on my wife's entire family. And it all starts with secretly building my own shelter.

On the seventh wedding anniversary, I woke up in the lounge and found a big word "BITCH" sprayed with red paint on my chest.
The culprit, holding a spray-paint can, had a naive-looking smile on her face and said, "I'm doing you a favor. Your white outfit's way too boring."
I was just about to take action when my husband rushed in to protect her, frowning and scolding me: "She's just a little girl; she doesn't know any better. Do you have to be so petty?"
At this moment, looking at the man in front of me who had risen because of my family's influence, I suddenly laughed.
He probably forgot who had given him this overwhelming wealth.
I unscrewed the red-tipped thick paint pen and walked step by step towards the trembling girl.
"Your face is boring, too. Let me do you a favor."
As for my husband?
I'll make him know that without me, he's worse than a dog.

Six years ago, Marlowe Kestrel drowned in the Duskhaven canals, or at least that is what the obituary said, what the empty coffin implied, and what every ruling House in the city has believed ever since.

In reality she swam two streets over, bribed a mortician with a forged signature, and built herself a new, gloriously unremarkable life as a small time magical forger who fixes other people's problems for coin and never, ever asks about bloodlines. It was a good plan.

It worked for six entire years, which is roughly five years and eleven months longer than anyone expected a Kestrel to survive in hiding. Then Jonas, the only man alive who knew her real name, turns up dead in his own workshop with a mark burned into his palm that Marlowe has spent her whole life trying to forget she carries too, and the only lead worth following belongs to Cassian Draven, heir to the most feared criminal House in the city, a man with a smile like a drawn blade and a family reputation built on making problems disappear as thoroughly as Marlowe once did herself.

Cassian recognizes her in under a minute, does not turn her in, and instead offers a deal she has no good reason to accept and every practical reason to take, pose as his fiancée at the season's summit of ruling Houses, help him smoke out whoever is hunting them both, and maybe, if she is very lucky and very careful, walk away with her second fake death arranged before anyone notices the first one was fake too.

The trouble is, the longer she spends pretending to love a Draven, the harder it gets to remember that hating him was ever supposed to be the easy part.

On my wedding night, I discovered the man in my bed wasn't my husband.
It was his twin brother—the one the family had exiled.
In my previous life, I exposed them in a rage.
My cheating husband came back, smashed my head open, and threw me into the ocean to be fed to the sharks.
But this time, reborn with a second chance, I cupped the face of the man in front of me—the face identical to my husband's—and slowly untied my wedding dress.
"Since he personally delivered you to my bed, then from now on... you're the husband."
This time, I'm going to raise up the loyal stand-in, and take everything from that bastard.

Just before my wedding, my fate mate, my Alpha fiancé, Micheal, stripped me of my wedding dress—our wedding dress—and handed it to his mistress, Becky Porter.
Not only that, but he locked me in the dressing room like some rabid wolf he needed to contain.
"Becky has a terminal illness.She just wants to experience being a bride before she dies."
I lunged forward, my wolf howling inside me. Alpha's strength pressed against mine, his dominance forcing my muscles to lock. My claws twitched, itching to break free.
"You bastard!" I snarled, my breath ragged.
Micheal barely blinked. Instead, he let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head .
"She’s dying, and you can’t even show a little compassion?" His tone dripped with disappointment, as if I were the villain here. "You’re only losing a wedding, but Becky… Becky is losing her dreams and her life."

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

Lucia Balstone thought she had chosen the right man to spend the rest of her life with, but he was the one who ended her life. Their ten-year marriage seemed like a joke when her husband stabbed her with a dagger.
Fortunately, God is never blind to people's tears.
Lucia got a second chance. She was reborn at the age of 22, before all the terrible things had happened.
This time, she was determined to avenge herself and let those who hurt her pay!
She made an elaborate list of her goals, and the first thing on her list was to marry her ex-husband's enemy, Alonso Callen!

Warning ###This story contains explicit sexual content, coarse language, and potentially provocative scenes. Viewer discretion is advised.###
Benjamin is an elite assassin, undertaking a top-secret mission amidst the turmoil of war, a mission that symbolizes the highest honor for any assassin. However, during a critical moment of his assignment, Benjamin receives a call from home—his father has died under mysterious circumstances, shrouded in a colossal secret. Hastily returning to investigate his father's death, he is astonished to find his first obstacle is an alluring woman he must now call 'stepmother.' Could this beautiful, sensuous, and youthful stepmother be connected to his father's untimely demise? Confronted with her misunderstandings, which path should Benjamin choose? This dilemma demands profound contemplation from him.

Judy’s fated mate rejected her to marry the Lycan Chairman - Gavin’s daughter. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he ruined her family and tried to make her his secret mistress!
Judy’s response? “I’d rather sleep with your father-in-law than ever be with you!”
Gavin is known for his power, wealth, and being the ultimate playboy who never sleeps with the same woman twice.
But Judy’s about to break all his rules… again and again.

"I want you to be my fake boyfriend.""What do I get in return?""I can give you money.""Money is not what I am after." He looked into my eyes and smirked, "I want you."Kylie Wade's happy life hit rock bottom when she found her boyfriend cheating on her with her own sister. To add oil to the misery, her adopted mother wanted to get her married off to a rich old man. Desperate to escape her fate and get back at her ex, she ends up hooking up with the captain of the football team- Elijah Crawford.What supposed to be was a one time thing changed into a dedicated courtship when Elijah took a liking on her.Was she ever going to be with that playboy? NEVER!Little did she know that Elijah had a secret- he was not an ordinary human but a werewolf.