3966 Book(s) Related to fall for my brother s best friend

In a society where the strongest, bravest, and most brutal rose to power, everything came with a price. That price was loyalty, eternal service, obedience, and slavery to the one true master—the Overlord.

The Barons served him without question, ruling their towns in his name, clinging to privilege in exchange for survival. But Goshen was different. An independent cotton town, thriving and free, untouched by the Overlord’s shadow.

Until the Overlord demanded its fields.

When the Baron of Goshen refused, wrath descended. The Overlord slaughtered the people, burned the cotton to ash, and turned the land into a graveyard of smoke and silence, it became a Ghost Town.

By some cruel miracle, the Baron’s son, Widen Sawyer, survived. Stolen away by a ruthless Baroness who masked his bloodline and claimed him as her own, he grew in the midst of lies and ambition.

But Widen was not ordinary. He was one of the BLOODBORNS—rare beings blessed and cursed by ancient sorcerers with dangerous powers. Few walked the earth with such gifts, and fewer still survived long enough to master them.

Yet no mask can bury vengeance.

Widen lives for one purpose: to bring the Overlord to his knees and repay blood with blood.

I'm sorry, Sophie." Janet Morrison, her now ex-boss, shifted uncomfortably behind her polished mahogany desk. "The merger means consolidation, and your position is redundant."

Redundant. Sophie had always hated that word.

"When Sophie Chen loses everything, a chance encounter with billionaire Alex Blackstone sparks a marriage of convenience. She needs money to save her father; he needs a wife to secure his inheritance. Sophie agrees to the idea, but Alex secrets run deeper than she could have imagined. Haunted by a tragic past, he’s bound to his inheritance and his demons. As their fake relationship ignites into real passion, dark secrets threaten to destroy their future. Will love conquer all, or will the truth tear them apart? One year. One lie. One chance at something real."

When Lyla's fated mate is revealed as Alpha Kaiden—her sister's ruthless ex-husband—the only thing he offers her is public humiliation and a brutal rejection. Heartbroken and branded as unworthy, she flees her pack, determined to uncover the truth behind her sister's mysterious disappearance.

Her escape leads her to Alpha Rowan, the commanding leader of the Blackwood Pack, who offers shelter, protection, and an unexpected chance at a new life. But Rowan’s fierce and jealous fiancée sees Lyla as a threat, and the pack’s charming Beta is drawn to her quiet strength.

As a dangerous attraction simmers between Lyla and Rowan, they begin to unravel a dark web of secrets that implicates Kaiden and threatens both their worlds.

With her hidden power awakening, Lyla must navigate treacherous loyalties, face the alpha who shattered her, and decide: Will she follow the destiny fate forced upon her, or claim the love and strength she has chosen for herself?

Everyone at Crestwood High knows Jaxon Reed’s reputation.
Bad boy. Trouble. Walking red flag.

So when he asks Ellie Marrow out—quiet, rule-following, and painfully invisible—it’s obvious to everyone that it has to be a joke.

Except Ellie knows the truth.

Jaxon made a bet. A stupid, reckless one. And she’s the prize.

Instead of saying no, Ellie makes a choice no one expects: she agrees to fake date him—for her own reasons. With rules. Boundaries. And an expiration date. What starts as pretending quickly turns complicated as Ellie sees the side of Jaxon no one else does.

As rumors spread and lines blur, Ellie must decide who she wants to be when she stops playing it safe. And Jaxon has to face the truth about himself—and the damage a single lie can cause.

Because when pretending feels this real, someone is bound to get hurt.

Everyone thought the disfigured obsessive fan was stalking actress Sophia Brown.

No one believed I was the real Sophia.

My twin sister, Lily, slept beside my husband, Don Jason. She used my face to star in my movies. She even took over my social media accounts and posted under my name.

I wanted an explanation. But Jason only looked at my scarred face with cold disgust and said he had always thought Lily was me. He said he had fallen for her and couldn’t let her go.

Lily told me becoming an actress had been her dream since childhood. Now that my face was ruined and I could no longer act, why shouldn’t I let her have it?

The only person who stood by me was my agent, Nancy. And because of me, even she was dragged into hell.

This time, I stopped trying to prove who I was. I chose another way.

"You took my wedding dress for my stepsister?"
My voice was ice as I stared at the man I had loved for six years—the man I had saved with my own blood, drop by drop, through years of his illness.
Atlas Brooks couldn't meet my eyes.
"She's dying, Mandy. Susie's last wish is to marry me."
Six years of devotion. Endless blood donations. And this is what I get in return?
The man I saved wants to trade me for the sister who destroyed my family.
Let him. I'm done fighting for someone who never fought for me.
But when I tried to walk away, Atlas caught my wrist.
"After she's gone," he whispered, "we can still be together. Just... let her have this."
The dress. The wedding. The man. Let her have everything.
I'm not waiting around as anyone's second choice. Not anymore.
I'm ready to say goodbye to everything.
I thought I was leaving love behind forever.
I didn't know that at my stolen wedding, I was about to find it.

My wife never knew what I really did. She only knew I was gone most of the year and money hit our account every month.

The day she cheated, she rummaged through my drawer, found an eagle-shaped brooch, and gifted it to her lover like a flashy accessory. “It’s worthless,” she said. “Perfect with a suit.” I warned her again and again to bring it back. She called me annoying, powered off her phone, and blocked me everywhere.

She didn’t know I’m a cleaner—the kind who handles quiet jobs—and that brooch isn’t jewelry. It’s an organization badge, a mark that turns you into a target the moment it appears in public.

That night, the killers came. The ballroom was sealed. She trembled under a table while her lover shoved her out to take the bullets.

When a cold gun barrel pressed to her temple and someone asked, “Who does the brooch belong to?”

Extreme cold descended suddenly, with temperatures approaching minus eighty degrees Celsius.

My girlfriend tricked me into leaving the temperature-controlled fortress I had built with all my savings. She took her whole family and her lover and took over the place, leaving me, a cripple, to be left to die in a blizzard.

They sat around my fireplace eating top-grade Wagyu beef, declaring they would watch me freeze into an ice sculpture.

But what they didn't know was that, locked out, I turned around and dialed the number of the most brutal outlaw in the apocalypse.

I don't want the billion-dollar supplies and the houses; all I want is for their whole family to be trapped in this inescapable, icy hell, unable to live or die.

I used to be the happiest food-truck girl on the streets of Brooklyn. Spencer Grant said he loved the warmth and down-to-earth spark I carried with me.
But over the six years of our marriage, he wrapped me layer by layer in Michelin-starred rules and fussy French culinary etiquette, turning me into a flawless, cold, untouchable chef.
Six years later, he asked me for a divorce because of a girl who ran a roadside taco stand.
He said my food was perfect but suffocating, while that girl made him feel alive again.
The way his eyes lit up when he talked about her was exactly how he'd looked at me when we'd first met six years ago.
In that moment, I knew our marriage was over.

In the wasteland, I earned enough military merit to be awarded two territories by the Alliance: an industrial city and an iron mine in the frozen tundra. In my previous life, my wife's younger brother threw a fit until he got the industrial city, while my wife forced me to take the frozen tundra iron mine instead. While their whole family lived easy in the industrial city, squeezing the workers dry, I was down in the frozen tunnels, struggling to dig ore day after day. Then the acid rain apocalypse came. The industrial city was corroded and brought crashing down by the acid rain, and my wife's family ended up covered in burns and open wounds. Meanwhile, I was doing just fine inside the frozen mine shafts. Out of kindness, I sent people to bring them to my side. I never expected my wife's entire family to turn on me and kill me together. Before I died, I detonated every last stick of dynamite in the mine and dragged them all to hell with me.
But when I opened my eyes again, I was back in the Alliance office where the territories were being assigned. And this time, the first thing I heard was my wife saying, "Shut up! Give the industrial city to your brother-in-law!"

She begged her mother for $50,000 to save her daughter's life.
Her mother had it—but chose to spend $300,000 on her younger sister's wedding instead.
That was the day Evelyn walked out. No more pleading. No more coming back.
Her husband sold his father's last heirloom. Their neighbors emptied their wallets. They saved her daughter and left for a new life.
A year later, her mother's money was gone. The fraud was exposed. The mansion was seized. The calls started coming—calls begging for help, for money, for forgiveness.
Evelyn listened, then hung up.
She is not going back. Not for guilt, not for blood. The family that let her daughter die does not get to ask her for anything.

I thought my friend had returned my BMW with an empty tank.
That was annoying.
Then the car started driving like it had a safe tied to the back.
My mechanic checked everything: tires, brakes, suspension, computer codes. Nothing made sense until he opened the trunk, lifted the floor panel, and found a canvas-wrapped mass jammed into the spare-tire well.
He looked once and nearly dropped his flashlight.
“Evan,” he said, “step back and call 911.”
I had lent my car for a blind date.
Somehow, I got it back with a police investigation in the trunk.

The cage doors are released and I open my sapphire coloured eyes, dashing out of the prison and into the forest.
Seven days for the full moon to be blue.
Seven days from the starting line to the finish
Seven days, that’s how long I had to make it to the lodge as an unmated female."
Legends of werewolves have gone back centuries. Always including the Moon Goddess and her blessing of soulmates to the beings she created. But the ugly truth is there is no such thing as soulmates. There is only The Run.
An event created centuries ago held twice a year during a blue moon where she-wolves run from their male counter parts. If they are captured, they are mated and marked, claimed by whoever captures them first.
No one is exempted from this event - not even Grace Harvest.
After being able to avoid attending the event since turning eighteen, Grace finds herself unable to find an excuse not to participate this time. With her last hope of remaining unmated until she can fall in love, she makes a bet with her Alpha. If she wins, he can no longer force wolves of his pack to participate in The Run and allow them to find love. If he wins, Grace will be mated, and her pack mates are forced to go no matter what.
But what will happen when she meets a golden haired wolf by the name Caden Wolfrain, who instantly captures her attention. Will she do all she can to win the bet, will Caden win her heart or will the secrets Caden keeps force her to cut ties with this golden haired wolf without a second thought no matter the heart break.

"My sister threatens to take my mate. And I let her keep him."
Born without a wolf, Seraphina is the disgrace of her pack—until a drunken night leaves her pregnant and married to Kieran, the ruthless Alpha who never wanted her.
But their decade-long marriage was no fairytale.
For ten years, she endured the humiliation: No Luna title. No mating mark. Just cold sheets and colder stares.
When her perfect sister returned, Kieran filed for divorce the same night. And her family was happy to see her marriage broken.
Seraphina didn't fight but left silently. However, when danger struck, shocking truths emerged:
☽ That night wasn't an accident
☽ Her "defect" is actually a rare gift
☽ And now every Alpha—including her ex-husband—will fight to claim her
Too bad she's done being owned.


Kieran's growl vibrated through my bones as he pinned me against the wall. The heat of him seared through layers of fabric.
"You think leaving is that easy, Seraphina?" His teeth grazed the unmarked skin of my throat. "You. Are. Mine."
A hot palm slid up my thigh. "No one else will ever touch you."
"You had ten years to claim me, Alpha." I bared my teeth in a smile. "Funny how you only remember I'm yours... when I'm walking away."

"Open wide, Golden Boy. I know you’ve been imagining sucking my cock in your head the entire practice."

​The cold floor of the locker room is bruising my knees, but it’s nothing compared to the grip Michael Rossi has on my hair.

My mouth is stretched tight around his cock, my heart hammering against my ribs in a rhythm of pure, unadulterated shame.

I’m the star defenseman for the Knights, the disciplined, untouchable Axel Thorne, and yet here I am, choking on the pride of my greatest enemy while he talks to me like I’m his favorite toy.

They call Michael Rossi the “Menace,” and for once, the media isn't exaggerating. He’s the jagged edge of the Rebels’ front line,a dirty, arrogant prick with a god complex. I’ve hated him since the night he stole my girlfriend just to prove he could.

For eighteen months, he’s dismantled my peace, chirping in my ear and checking me into the boards with a smirk.

​Now, a viral "spite kiss" has trapped us in a PR contract. To save my career, I have to be his boyfriend. I’m supposed to play along with the man who ruined my life, but the closer I get, the more I realize the rivalry was just the beginning.


​Axel Thorne is the "Golden Boy", disciplined, loved, and blissfully oblivious. He thinks I’m the villain who stole his girl; he doesn’t realize I only did it to see the look in his eyes.

This rivalry was never about the game; it was about obsession. I’ve spent every restless night imagining how it would feel to finally claim him.

​Axel thinks we’re faking it to save our career.

He’s wrong.

I’m playing a game where he only wins by losing himself to me.

For five years, my husband claimed he could not understand emotion.

I believed him, excused every broken promise, and taught myself to survive on scraps of attention.

Then I went to his office with news of our unborn child and heard him laughing with the woman who had helped him deceive me.

He had married me for a pureblood heir. Once the baby was born, he planned to throw me away.

He wanted an heir from a devoted wife. Instead, I gave him a funeral.

In the end-stage of acute heart failure, the life-saving heart I had waited three grueling years for was secretly reallocated by my parents and husband to Sera, the "true" daughter of the family.

My heart turned to ash. I refused the doctor's final conservative treatment plan and injected a potent, lethal neuro-stimulant.
The price for blocking the agonizing pain of my failing heart was total cardiac collapse and death in three days.

In these three days, I gave up all arguments and resistance.
When Adrian impatiently threw down the divorce papers, I signed them without hesitation; when the daughter I raised with my own hands pushed me away in disgust, hiding in Sera’s arms and calling her "Mommy"; when I handed over the Foundation I had spent eight years building entirely to Sera—they didn't even notice my paper-white face.

They only looked at me with relief and said, "If you had been this sensible earlier, our family wouldn't have gotten so ugly."

I am very curious. When I am dead, what will they think then?

My wife said she had an important client meeting, so I attended our daughter’s awards ceremony alone.
Then a neighbor sent me a photo.
Rachel was sitting in another school’s auditorium beside her college boyfriend—smiling as his hand rested on her waist.
Before I could process what I was seeing, our fifteen-year-old daughter stepped up to the microphone.
“For fifteen years, my dad has been the one holding our home together,” Lily said.
Then she looked straight at me.
“My mother left us a long time ago.”
Three hundred people thought my wife was dead.
But Lily knew the truth.
And before the night was over, she would force me to face the betrayal I had spent years pretending not to see.

The day I discovered my husband, Vincent, was cheating on me with my younger sister, I was seven months pregnant. I drove away in a panic, only to end up in a car accident.
When I woke up in the family’s underground clinic, Vincent was pressing a gun to his own forehead, begging me to forgive him.
My father immediately ordered Elena to leave Sicily.
From that day on, Vincent took over every family affair, big or small, never allowing me to worry about a single thing.
I never heard from Elena again.
Not until our son was suddenly hospitalized with acute pneumonia.
I rushed back to the family’s private hospital in the middle of the night.
Through the half-open hospital room door, I saw my parents and Elena, who were supposed to be thousands of miles away in Siberia.
Elena was bent over the bedside, sobbing.
"Leo is my child. Why can't he even call me Mom? Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"
Vincent wrapped his arms around her, his face full of tenderness.
"I know you've suffered, sweetheart. But if Isabella finds out that her baby actually died in that car accident, there's no telling how many people she'll drag down with her. You know what she's capable of."
I froze outside the door.

After six months of waiting, Yvana thought her mate would finally claim her.
Then his childhood best friend ran in, and he ran after her, leaving Yvana standing unmarked in front of a pack that already hated her for having no wolf.
That wound was not enough. By morning they had sold her into the war between the triplet kings fighting for an empty throne.
She rejected him on the road. There was no time left to chase a weak man. That same day the first king looked at her and called her mate.
Then she found out it was all three of them.
And while she is still trying to live in that, the truth under her skin wakes up. She is not wolfless. She is hybrid. Her other side does not want a crown. It wants a Beast so huge and so dangerous he was built with two cocks.
How does a girl like that come out on top?

"I look better in the wedding dress. Your ugly fiancée can't compare to me, right?" "Of course, you do. You look way better."
Standing right outside the bridal fitting room, I watched my fiancé, Alexander Blackwell, hold his mistress in his arms.
The very wedding dress the woman wore was the custom-made designer gown meant for my own wedding next month.
For seven long years, I gave up my youth and poured everything into Alexander, turning him from a nobody into a tech billionaire.
He always thought I was just a helpless orphan who had nowhere else to go, blindly confident that I would never dare to leave him.
He had no idea that I was actually one of the heirs to the top-tier Sterling family in London.
When he finally realized what he had lost and desperately tried to beg for my return, I didn't look back.
Because I ran into Theodore Morrow—the city's most powerful, ruthless billionaire CEO, and the childhood fiancé whose heart I had broken when I called off our engagement years ago.

She wasn’t his weakness. She was his ruin, and he would bring the world to its knees before he let her go.


Kisarel thought she had it all figured out, until the night she caught her fiancé in bed with her cousin.
The same cousin who was engaged to her boss, the ruthless and untouchable billionaire, Mr. Oceans Stark.
Heartbroken, humiliated, and trapped on a business trip with the man her cousin was set to marry, Kisarel did the unthinkable – she begged her boss to make her forget her boyfriend's betrayal.
Oceans swore he didn’t touch his employees.
He swore his heart only belonged to a certain strange woman he'd been looking for, who saved his life so many years ago.
But the moment Kisarel kissed him, every resolution he made shattered.
And after their one sinful night together, Mr. Stark couldn't let Kisarel go. He began to do everything within his power to get her even more entangled in his web of obsession.
There were a thousand reasons she should have stayed away from him. She ignored every single one.
He knew every part of her belonged to someone else. But every part of him didn’t care.
What neither of them knows is that Kisarel was the woman he’s been searching for all along.
Now, Oceans is set to call off his wedding with Kisarel's cousin, and he expects Kisarel to also call off her wedding with her cheating fiancé.
Kisarel is now tangled in an obsession so hot that it might consume her whole. And Oceans is ready to drown his entire empire just to keep the woman he truly loves.

After the apocalypse, I built Dawnlight Base.

On an outside run, I died in an ambush—blast, fire, bullets. I watched my blood sink into the sand and thought it was over.

Then I opened my eyes five years later, living in a stranger’s body.

On a transport truck, I was locked in an iron cage with guns trained on us. The others told me who I was now: a bottom-tier gate guard, “cargo” being sold by Dawnlight to a mining camp.

They said after my death, my girlfriend took the command room, promoted her own people, broke up my old crew and stripped their weapons. Mismanagement followed. Mining rights were pawned off. Then they started selling the living.

I escaped and slipped back under the wall.

The quarantine corridor at the North Gate had collapsed and no one repaired it. A long line waited at the ration point, bowls filled with water-thin gruel.

And my girlfriend was signing papers—inviting an outside warlord into the city to “share governance.”

A week later, his convoy rolled through the gate. From the command building’s second-floor window, I flipped the signal switch.

The gate dropped behind them.

When gunfire erupted from every direction, they finally understood—

I was back.

The day before Thanksgiving, my husband, David, dragged his suitcase to the airport, claiming he was flying to Seattle to meet an important client.
My parents took my younger brother to Miami for a vacation and conveniently took my six-year-old daughter with them.
With the house empty, I picked up a last-minute catering shift that paid double the usual hourly rate. I needed the extra money to cover next month's rent and buy David a gift. So I temporarily filled in as a dinner server at a mansion in Beverly Hills.
After changing into a black-and-white uniform, I entered the employer's home through the service entrance.
The person in charge was the lady of the house—a young, beautiful blonde.
She had barely led me through the hallway toward the main room when I saw several workers hanging a massive engagement portrait on the central wall.
The man in the photograph, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, was my husband of six years.
David.
I froze where I stood, my mind going completely blank.
"Move it a little to the left. Yes, that's it. Straighten it!" the blonde girl called out to the workers.
Then she turned toward me.
"What? Can't take your eyes off it? That's my fiancé."
She looked me up and down, her voice dripping with condescending, fake sympathy.
"Working on a major holiday? I guess you're not married yet."
I closed my eyes and took a slow, deep breath. "I am. But I'll be a widow very soon."

When Alexander Carter, the ruthless and irresistibly charming CEO of one of the country’s largest corporations, walked into my office, I thought he was there to terminate my contract. After all, I had just lost everything in a project sabotaged by his company. But instead, he made me an offer that would change my life: marry him for one year.

Sounds crazy? Maybe. But with my younger sister depending on me and the bills piling up, refusing wasn’t an option. In return, he offered enough money to rebuild my career and a contract to lead a project I had always dreamed of.

There was just one rule: don’t fall in love.

Simple, right? Or so I thought. Until I realized that behind his cold demeanor and flawless suits was a man full of secrets. A man who started to unravel me with every touch, every whispered word, every lingering glance.

Now, as I fight to keep up the façade of the perfect wife and uncover the conspiracies within his world, one question remains: when all this ends, will I be able to walk away unscathed?

Eight years after Lucan Altieri left Chicago, he finally came home as the new Don—and to get married.
That same day, I received my final verdict. After eight years of endless dialysis and a rejected kidney, my doctor took my mother aside and told her there was nothing left to try. All the hospital could do now was buy me a little more time.
Mom was helping me out of a cab and into my wheelchair when a black car pulled up next door. Lucan stepped out with his fiancée.
He stopped when he saw me. His gaze dropped to the wheelchair, and his mouth curled into a smirk.
"Well, Quinlan. Eight years, and this is what you're reduced to?"
I tugged my sleeve down over the bruised, ruined veins of my dialysis fistula. "I broke my leg on the ice."
He laughed and pulled his fiancée closer. "Perfect timing, then. I'm getting married. You should be a bridesmaid."
I smiled back at him. "I can't. I won't be here to see it."
Then I patted my mother's hand. Without a word, she turned my wheelchair and pushed me inside.

"Riccardo, please! I beg you!"
My water broke ten minutes ago. Warm liquid streamed down my legs and slowly froze into ice on the ground beneath me.
He stood on the other side of the bulletproof glass. In his eyes, there was not a trace left of the man I had once loved with all my heart.
In the Bellanona Mafia family, bloodline surpasses everything, and the hierarchy of age is an unyielding iron rule: the firstborn son shall inherit the entire underworld empire.
My sister-in-law Sofia and I were both pregnant, our due dates merely one day apart.
To make sure his elder brother’s child seized the succession right first, my husband coldly chose to sacrifice our own flesh and blood.
"My brother’s child must be born first." Riccardo’s voice came over the intercom, colder and more piercing than bitter winter wind. "This is what you owe them."
He had not only locked me inside this icy cellar. Just moments ago, his men pinned me down ruthlessly and injected a dose of medicine into my vein, solely to forcefully halt my labor.
Writhing in agony, I hugged my heavily pregnant belly tightly with both arms.
I could distinctly feel the little life inside me, once kicking and struggling relentlessly, growing fainter and fainter.
I’m sorry, my baby… Mommy is so sorry for you.

I'd been dating a mafia heir online for six months when I learned he'd meant to pursue my roommate.

He'd been given the wrong account.

I'd refused his money and returned his gifts. Grant Whitmore took that as proof I was hopelessly in love with him.

Then an anonymous number sent me his messages with a friend.

“Keep it quiet. I've got her roommate's number. I'll decide when I've figured things out.”

“Decide what? Date the roommate. This one will still be waiting when you're done.”

So he started dating her and muted my messages.

Including the one where I'd already dumped him.

But when I went three days without texting the heir to another crime family, he messaged first.

“No hubby today?”

One month before the SATs, I saw my predicted score floating right above my head.
But every time I finished a practice test, the score automatically dropped by 20 points.
And if I skipped class to party for a day, it went up by 20 points.
In my past life, I partied for a whole month, and the score above my head reached a perfect 1600.
But when the results finally came out, I only scored a 400.
And my sister Seraphina got a 1600!
My father, Richard Vanderbilt, was absolutely furious.
My mother, Eleanor Vanderbilt, fueled the fire beside him.
She convinced my father to send me to a troubled teen boarding school.
They cut off my funds and threw me out of the mansion.
That very night, I was cornered by a group of street thugs in a dark alley and beaten to death.
As I lay dying, I heard Seraphina's voice.
"You always played the untouchable genius, Rhea. But you still got fooled by the score above your head."
That was when I finally realized the truth.
My SAT score had been completely controlled and siphoned by my sister.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to exactly one month before the exam.

My husband's first love was in trouble.
When the news came, I was lying on the operating table.
Dr. Miller put down his scalpel and said to Dr. Johnson, "I'll leave my wife's surgery to you."

"If I don’t go now, I might regret it for the rest of my life."

With that, he turned and walked away.
Watching my husband's retreating figure, I couldn't hold back—tears fell.
The next second, the cold blade of a scalpel touched my skin.

Dr. Johnson spoke calmly, "Why the tears? With me here, you'll be fine."

Evelyn Mitchell died at the hands of betrayal, pushed off a cliff by the very people she trusted most. But fate gives her a second chance. She wakes up three months before her tragic end, armed with the truth and a heart full of vengeance.

In her past life, Evelyn was blind to deception. She lost her family, her future, and the man who loved her most—Alexander Gray, the cold and powerful heir who jumped with her into death. This time, she's done playing the fool.

Reborn as the fierce and fearless heiress of the Mitchell family, Evelyn is ready to destroy her bestie who stabbed her in the back and crush the scumbag she once loved. But when it comes to Alexander, things are different. She's not running anymore. She's chasing him.

Everyone in the capital fears Alexander's icy heart, but only Evelyn knows the fire he hides beneath. Revenge is sweet—but love might be even sweeter.

"Don't test me, Stone; your family has always thought that it was untouchable... Felt on top of the world, didn't you? You didn't care about who you needed to stomp down to get there?"

His fingers hung dangerously over the trigger; I shook as far as my binds would let me, tears rolling down to the gag in my mouth… that muffled my cries.

But even as I had the gun pointed at my head, my husband was not looking at me; his eyes were purely placed on Liliana.

“Talk to me, you bastard!.. You have to choose between your wife or your first love.”

On her wedding day, Aurora chased after her runaway groom who went to console his first love, only to be kidnapped along with that woman and tortured for 3 days straight until she was met with the ultimate pain; her fiancée, who she thought would turn to her forever, choosing another woman over her and not only that but confessing that his first love was carrying his child too. Just like she was, except he would never find out. At least not in that life; she took a bullet to the head and was reborn on the day of her wedding. When he runs off to meet his first love and console her again, she doesn't foolishly chase after him; rather, she walks towards his brother, the most desirable bachelor in the city, and says, “Will you marry me instead?"

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


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

A bet.

Well, two can dance a tango, right?

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

It wasn't just a game to him.

What if there's something more…

A facade he's hiding behind?

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

“Don’t move.” His voice is low, commanding, and my body obeys before my mind can even process it.
I'm pressed against the cold marble wall of the palace, his hands traces my thigh, my body heated up in desire or fear, I can’t tell.
“Tell me you want this,” he murmurs, pressing his hardened cock against my pulsing center,
“Tell me you crave me Aria,” his lips brushes my ears.
“Tell me you want me to fuck you till the entire of Olympus hear you moan my name.” he nibbles on my ear.
I bite back a gasp, because yes, I want him. I want him in ways I shouldn't, in ways that terrify me.

Aria Hale was never meant for the underworld and she hated the king of the underworld more than anything.
After Aria is betrayed by her sister and fiance, She finds herself in the underworld and soul-bound to Hades… the god of death, danger and impossible desire. He's commanding, possessive and devastatingly handsome, with powers that makes her ache and his dominance that ignites a sudden fire inside of her that she can’t seem to control.
Although enemies at first sight, they are forced into a marriage that pushes her limit and in turn she challenges the control of Hades. In those stolen electric moments, their desire becomes impossible to resist.
But Aria is not done. Thrust back into earth by a mysterious shadow that she strikes a blood oath with. She comes back to earth for revenge against those who betrayed her and stop their plans before it happens.
But the underworld is bubbling and she is more dangerous than Hades expected….Far more dangerous.
Will Aria give into the passionate love between her and Hades or will she risk everything for her revenge and power?

On the morning before Christmas Eve, I was polishing my shoes in my apartment, preparing to meet my girlfriend Camilla's parents, who lived in the uptown, the next day to discuss marriage.
Through years of hard work, I finally bought a house in the city.
I suddenly had a splitting headache, and a blue system interface appeared on my retina, telling me that the sea level would rise by 8,000 meters in 24 hours and that a deep-sea mutated tide would submerge the world.
To survive, I must get 10 people to each transfer $ 5,000 to me before the countdown ends , and I will receive an asylum spot for each transfer I receive.

Eight years ago, I was the heir to a powerful dynasty—the man set to inherit an empire.

On the way home from a business deal, our convoy was ambushed and I was taken. My fiancée arrived with the ransom, and the kidnappers gave her a choice: save one man. She saved my closest friend—and left me bleeding in the ruins.

They thought I was dead. They went on camera, announced my “tragic death,” took my company, split my legacy, and lived on my name for eight long years.

But I didn’t die. A gray-zone mercenary unit pulled me out of a pile of bodies. I changed my name and climbed from the bottom of their world—training, bleeding, killing, leading—until I became one of their commanders.

Today, my fiancée is marrying my best friend. The invitation arrived with my name on it. I board a first-class flight under a new identity and head straight for their wedding.

Halfway through the ceremony, the priest asks if anyone objects.

I stand up. “I object.”

I didn’t come back to give my blessing. I came back to collect.

To win a smile from my icy wife, I stood for four hours in a London blizzard, only to be greeted by her returning hand-in-hand with her childhood sweetheart, who had just returned from abroad.

For three years of marriage, I had concealed all my sharp edges, solely to warm her heart.
Until company secrets were leaked, and she unquestioningly believed her childhood sweetheart's framing, locking me, who suffered from severe claustrophobia, in a dark, abandoned wine cellar for a full forty-eight hours.

Watching her arrogantly slam the "Clean Break Agreement" onto my bleeding face, I smiled.
The moment I signed my name, the humble Arthur who loved her died utterly in the abyss.

That night, my yacht ran aground and exploded.
And the first heir of the Vance conglomerate, missing for three years, officially took control of the global technology lifeline.

Six months later, betrayed and facing bankruptcy, she clung to my trousers like a dead dog on the red carpet of a top-tier banquet, weeping and begging me to start over.
I was arm in arm with a true socialite, and I didn't even lift an eyelid as I looked at the woman covered in mud on the floor:
"Security, throw this crazy woman who's dirtied the carpet away. Don't spoil my fun."

I was the unluckiest kid in my family—always the one pulling the black-tipped stick from that pretty little "Fairness Jar."
In our house, red meant new dresses, Disneyland, and a goodnight kiss from Mom. Black meant endless chores, lockup in the attic, and the kind of hunger that ate you from the inside out.
Mom loved to stroke my hair in front of the neighbors. "God gives everyone a fair shake," she'd say. "Riley's just a little unlucky, is all."
I believed her for fourteen years.
Until I had an asthma attack and died on that dusty attic floor.
The moment my soul slipped free, I looked down at the overturned Jar, its sticks scattered across the floorboards—and I finally understood why I'd drawn black every single time.

I loved Alpha William for half my life, willingly becoming a substitute, stealing five years of marriage and two sons.
Then his first love, Emily, suddenly “came back from the dead” and accused me of running her down with my car.
As punishment, they hung my younger brother over a vat of boiling oil.
I was in unbearable agony, yet they told me it was only a dummy.
Until I received a text message:
[Grace, I had someone switch out that dummy. The one frying in the oil right now is your real brother.]
Holding my brother’s charred corpse, I watched as they surrounded their white moonlight and walked away.
I handed over a Mate Bond Dissolution Agreement and left quietly and decisively—
only for him to completely lose his mind after discovering the truth.

My mom died saving me during a kidnapping. At least, that’s what everyone believed. My dad—once the man who spoiled me like his little princess—turned his grief into hatred. He adopted a girl who looked just like Mom and gave her all the love that used to be mine. For five years, I lived in that shadow, broken and unwanted. Until the day I was beaten and left for dead… and my mom came back. Alive.
• He used to call me his treasure. Now he calls me a curse. But the night my mom returned, everything shattered—his lies, his obsession, and the truth I was never meant to know.

I was once the woman Michael was dead set on marrying, only to be cast aside right after our engagement, all because of Lily, that so-called terminally ill, pitiful little “sister” of his.
With a shattered heart, I boarded the honeymoon flight that was supposed to belong to both of us. But The plane crashed.
I survived, by sheer luck, saved by a stranger named Liam and ended up on a remote island.
One year later, I returned to the public eye as a scriptwriter, telling my own story. At the press conference, I saw Michael again.
Gray streaks threaded through his hair. His eyes brimmed with regret, disbelief, and a desperate kind of joy. He grabbed me, begged for forgiveness, told me Lily’s lies had been exposed, told me he had spent the past year drowning in remorse.
But I only looked at him calmly and said: “Emily have been dead since the plane crashed. What you thought was a wife-chasing crematorium was nothing more than your own one-man show.”

“You think I don’t have a heart, little one? You’re right. But if I did, it would already belong to you. And that’s far more dangerous.”

“You break the world with your hands, Nico. I mend it with mine. And maybe that’s why fate threw us together… to remind you even beasts can bleed.”

Born into one of the most powerful crime syndicates in Los Angeles, Serena Moretti has lived a life gilded with diamonds and shadowed by danger. As the prized daughter of the West Coast famiglia, her beauty is spoken of like legend, but in the underworld, beauty is no blessing. It becomes her curse when she is bound in marriage to Nico Romano, heir to the ruthless New York Mafia Empire, in a desperate attempt to end a feud painted in blood.

Nico is no ordinary heir. He is a man forged in violence, feared for his merciless precision, and infamous for ending lives with his bare hands, including his own father. The whispers about him are not rumours; they are warnings.
To the world, he is untouchable—wealthy, magnetic, and devastatingly handsome.

But to Serena, every glint in his steel-grey eyes hides the predator beneath, and every smirk is a reminder that a beast wears a man’s face.

In a world where loyalty is power and love is weakness, Serena’s only chance of survival is to do the impossible, claim the heart of a beast everyone swears doesn’t have one.

"You are like a father to me, I can't marry you."
"If you can't, then I guess you prefer to be an orphan if your mother dies."
Juliet Jones, was torned in between saving her mother's precious life, and getting into a contract marriage with her father's closest friend, George Watson.
And when she was left with no better choice, and the time is ticking faster on her mother, she got married to Mr George, to save her mother's life.
But unfortunately it was too late, and her mother died, after she had already signed a contract agreement with Mr George.

“You’re not dating anyone without my permission.”
Josh Evans has always been Eva’s biggest problem.
Not because he’s her brother’s best friend.
Not because he’s one of the most popular hockey players at school.
But because he’s been her crush for years—and the one guy her brother has made completely off-limits.
So when Josh finds out about the guy she’s been dating, he decides no one gets to date Eva without his approval.
For Eva, following the rule should be easy. She’s always known who she truly wants, even if she knows she can never have him.
But Josh has his own problem.
He knows Eva is off-limits. He knows she’s Peter’s little sister. He knows crossing that line could cost him his best friend.
So why does every guy she dates bother him?
Why does seeing her with someone else make him jealous?
And how long can he keep pretending his protectiveness is the only reason he can't stay away from her?

Noah, usually inseparable from his father, had spent the entire week insisting that only I take him camping. His declared mission: mastering "real survival skills"—a not-so-subtle jab at his dad's preference for cushy glamping.
Liam played along, hamming it up as he swung our son goodbye. But beneath the teasing jealousy, something felt off. He packed the trunk too fast. Checked the gas without being asked. Almost assembly-line efficiency.
And that line about a last-minute client flying in from Chicago? Didn't sound like bad luck. Sounded like an excuse.
All week, he never pushed back. Just quietly, almost eagerly, waited for us to leave.
I figured he wanted the house to himself: scotch, cigars, silence.
Then the call came—and I got it.
He hadn’t cleared the house for peace and quiet.
He’d cleared it for her.

At my boss's mother's funeral, I couldn't hold back my laughter, and as a result, I was treated as a lunatic, stuffed into a garbage cannon, and launched naked into an apocalyptic forest full of zombies. Everyone thought I was doomed, but they didn't know—I had been reborn 1,001 times. Unarmed and surrounded by the zombie horde, about to be torn to shreds, in desperation I clung to the last clue... When I finally uncovered the truth that could overturn everything, I laughed from the bottom of my heart. This time, I would personally end this greatest lie.

Betrayed and killed by the wolf king in my past life, I came back from hell. On the wedding day, I turned down his proposal without hesitation. I made a blood pact with his greatest enemy—the vampire king. Together, we avenged my child and family, and built a new future in the dark.

I bought a handsome, aloof incubus from a clearance sale online to be my live-in maid.
For a week, he was perfect. Then he started fainting, his skin burning with a fever no amount of rest could fix. Panicked that I’d somehow overworked my best employee, I called the 24/7 Aphrodisiac (companyI bought him from) helpline.

Ma’am, our incubus models have a demonic lineage and you have got a high-output model. They have near-infinite stamina. They don't get 'feverish' from vacuuming. But... why did you have him doing 'housework'?"
"Because the house was dirty?"
The agent suddenly chuckled. "Ah, I see. Everyone has their own fantasies and kinks. Roleplay is very popular. But tell me, according to the log, when was the last time Xanthos received physical intimacy?"
"Huh?"
"Physical intimacy," the agent repeated. "Love, spoiling, skin-to-skin contact. If a male incubus doesn't get intimacy, his internal energy stagnates. They fall sick. Male models are much higher maintenance than females; they need constant affection to stay healthy."
My blood ran cold. "Affection? I bought him to mop the floors!"
"Ma'am," the agent's voice dropped. "You are on Aphrodisiac. We are the world's leading provider of supernatural escorts. Did you... did you not read the site description?"

Turns out, I hadn’t bought a demonic domestic servant.
I’d accidentally purchased a high-maintenance supernatural escort.
And apparently, if I didn’t start showing my “maid” some affection soon, he would die and I would be jailed for abusing my maid.

For three years, the whole school thought I loved privileged golden boy Sebastian Grayson. I covered his mistakes, took his punishments, and single-handedly turned his rebellious self into a Harvard admit, enduring endless mockery for my one-sided devotion.
Yet every obedient act was never love — only a contract deal.
When we reunite at a Harvard banquet two years later, Sebastian craves a second chance.
But he is too late. I will never return.