2833 Book(s) Related to until my venis run dry

"You're... you're leaving me here? I'm your Luna!" I stammered. My body felt like it was burning from the inside out. I barely recognized it as my own.
"I'm sorry, Lyra," he said, already turning away. "My pack's safety comes first." With that, he turned his back on me.


What happens when the man you chose... chooses fate instead?
Lyra believed she had already won against destiny. She and Cassian were not fated mates, but they chose each other anyway. Together, they built a powerful united pack, ruled side by side, and vowed to reject whatever fate tried to steal from them.
Until the day Cassian returned from the border carrying another woman in his arms—Liora.
She was fragile, gentle, and completely different from Lyra. And most importantly, she was Cassian's fated mate.
Cassian refused to let either woman go. So, he offered Lyra an ultimatum: An open marriage.
Humiliated in her own home, accused of cruelty, and forced to watch her husband protect another woman with a devotion he had never shown her, Lyra's heart shatters piece by piece.
But fate isn't done with her yet.
Her longtime enemy, Ethan—the Alpha of the second-largest pack in the North—claims her as his contractual Luna.
As zombie rogue attacks escalate and secrets begin to surface, Lyra must choose between staying in a marriage that no longer wants her or walking away from everything she helped build.

He has dark hair with very beautiful blue eyes, a cold and charismatic person.

I often see his work which is very good and my favorite, a painting of a toddler girl in a pink dress.

I thought it was an ordinary painting, but not for people who claim to know his dark past.

They say, the toddler painting is a manifestation of his mental illness which has an affinity for young children.

Levi William Stanley or Adam Joseph McCartney, a sadistic killer who had the heart to brutally murder his parents when he was 12 years old.

However, I couldn't believe the rumors. How could someone as handsome and great as him is a murderer?

People say, don't look at a book by its cover. But, is it true that my favorite lecturer is a murderer?

When your bf cheated and you spent a great night with a 🔥 stranger.
You woke up and realized you're late for the online seminar of the most popular pr0fess0r.
You dashed out of the bedroom, wearing the man's t shirt,
Then the whole class saw you through the profess0r's live stream...
You😱: pr0fess0r...did we???

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?

To the rest of the world, I was just a blue-collar "oil rig worker" battling the sun and storms at sea year-round.

But my true service record is locked deep in the Pentagon’s top-secret archives. Codename: "Ghost"—a specialist handling the military's deadliest black ops overseas.

The day my final mission ended, I pushed open my front door filled with anticipation, only to be greeted by a floor pooled with blood and smashed furniture.

An untouchable syndicate had beaten my wife black and blue and abducted my seven-year-old son, threatening to harvest him for the black-market organ trade.

Right now, safely holed up in a subterranean fortress, the arrogant syndicate boss is hiding behind multi-ton blast doors and dozens of hired guns, scoffing at the "cowardly" husband who only knew how to cry to the cops.

What they don't know is that, just a few minutes ago, I permanently shredded that disguise.

Let the hunt begin...

I thought escaping to Vegas would help me forget my cheating ex. Instead, I had the hottest one-night stand of my life with a mysterious stranger in a hotel bar, then panicked and ran before sunrise.

Two days later, I'm sitting across from my "arranged" blind date, and my stomach drops. It's him. Same intense eyes. Same devastating smile.

Now my dad expects us to get serious. His dad's breathing down his neck too. So we make a crazy deal: fake an engagement to get our families off our backs, then figure out if this thing between us is real.

In the previous life, the apocalypse arrived.
I risked my life to protect my wife as she fled, even giving her the access chip to the underground safe zone as a favor.
But when she was ambushed, she didn't hesitate to pull her superior officer to shield her from a grenade! Afterwards, in an attempt to cover up her crime, she turned around and tearfully accused me of using someone as a human shield.
I was dried into a dried corpse amidst the scorn of thousands, while she stepped on my blood and bones to become the adopted daughter of the highest-ranking military officer.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the eve of my journey into the city.
As I watched her generously give away her chip to the refugees again, and try to use moral blackmail to force me to hand over my last means of survival, I smiled slightly...
This time, without my backing, let's see how you maintain your mask of kindness.

I was the most envied mafia wife in Chicago, until his Tibetan Mastiff tore apart what remained of our child.
Everyone called it an accident. I knew it wasn’t.
While I was bleeding out on the operating table, my husband was in the VIP ward, personally attending to his “traumatized” adopted sister. The whole family coddled her delicate state. Only I saw the smirk she couldn’t hide behind every calculated “panic attack.”
Then the Feds gave me a choice: keep playing the perfect, miserable wife, or vanish into a classified program so secret, I’d be dead to everyone I ever knew.
I signed. I uploaded the audio proof of their affair. I watched my old life disappear.
You swore you’d protect the family above all else, darling?
How fitting. My new mission is to protect this country from all threats.
Starting with you.

To escape the absurd arranged marriage with the Duke of Hawthorne—a ruthless billionaire who demanded absolute physical perfection around him and was rumored to fire servants just for being plain—I spent years painting on hideous freckles and a sickly yellow complexion.
I hid my true face beneath outdated tweed suits until Earl Julian Sutton knelt in my rose garden.
"Georgina, I don't care about your looks. It's your gentle soul I love," he vowed.
I believed him. I fought my greedy father and defied the terrifying Duke just to be with him.
Yet, on our wedding day, right before exchanging rings, Julian dropped my hand and rushed to his crying mistress—a C-list model with a mass-produced plastic face.
"She's too fragile, Georgina. You're strong..." he said shamelessly in front of hundreds of guests.
The high society crowd gasped, throwing me pitiful glances.
So this was the price of testing a man's heart.
Suddenly, the heavy doors swung open. The Duke of Hawthorne strode in, flanked by bodyguards.
He walked straight to me, gently touched my clean, flawless cheek, and sighed.
"You made me play along with this 'ugly duckling' game for so long, my future Duchess... Are you finally done testing these fools?"

On the night of the charity gallery opening, I caught Lucas and Lila tangled together in the storage closet.
He pulled the girl tight against his chest and sneered, “Stella, you’re eight whole years older than me. You’ve controlled my life for five years—when are you gonna realize you can never hold onto me?”
Lila giggled, snuggling deeper into his arms. “You’re past your prime, ma’am. Why cling to someone who was never yours to begin with?”
Snickers and mocking laughter rippled through the onlookers.
I gave a slow, hollow smile.
For five years, I single-handedly kept Scott Enterprises afloat, mopped up every mess he made, and buried every scandal spawned by his endless string of flings.
Still, he hopped from one girl to the next, weaponizing our age gap to mock and hurt me, over and over again.
Then he shoved me hard. I crumpled to the floor in a pool of my own blood, watching him bolt out with another woman in his arms, not a single glance thrown back my way.
I knew right then the baby was gone.
Everyone whispered how pathetically I’d bent over backward for love.
No one ever learned the truth: I endured everything only because his face mirrored my late fiancé, Elias.

I'm the forgotten eldest son of the Cross family.
My parents see me as a walking blood bag for my brother Colin, while my wife views me as a sinner destined to spend my life atoning for my mistakes.
When Audrey pressured me to donate a kidney, I agreed.
Not only did I agree, but I also liquidated all my assets and transferred them to my lab.
They thought I was foolish, that I was still begging for their love.
In reality, I was just tying up loose ends.
The night before the surgery, I coughed up a pool of blood.
Audrey laughed coldly over the phone: "Stop the act, Evan. You just want to dodge responsibility. You'll go to any lengths for attention."
The surgery was a "success."
Colin got the kidney he'd always dreamed of.
And I died in the recovery room.
My soul floated in the air as I watched Audrey push open the hospital door, wearing a smile that dripped with pity, ready to put on a show of "redemption."
"Evan, I know you've been wronged. Let's start over..."
The only response to her was the white sheet covering my lifeless body.

The day I walked in on my boyfriend screwing that blonde tramp, I dropped the homemade tiramisu right there on the floor—our two-year relationship smashed to bits, messier than the splattered cream.

I ducked into a bar, slamming back whiskey, when this guy in a sharp black suit sidles up, his voice smooth as silk laced with bourbon. I spat out, "Help me forget him," but ended up totally lost in the presidential suite. He backed me against the wall, tore open my blouse, his tongue circling my nipple before biting down hard, leaving me breathless. "You taste like candy, baby—tonight, I'm gonna eat you up."

But then my boyfriend FaceTimes, spots the guy behind me, and loses it, screaming, "Dad!"

I went ice-cold—my hookup was my boyfriend's stepdad? Even worse, this thirty-three-year-old powerhouse was Brooklyn's deadliest mob boss.

What began as a vengeful fling spiraled into a forbidden nightmare?

My marriage to Matthew was a transaction, a substitute—everything except love. When his white moonlight came back, I was abandoned, diagnosed with gastric cancer, and carrying his child. His late regret could never bring back my life, nor could it keep our unborn baby.

"Celestine, please, just help me this once! If even you can't make him fall for you, then I'll know for sure that he really loves me."
I was fooled by those very words in my previous life.
I softened and agreed to help a friend with a harmless little test, never realizing that the so-called "Wall Street rising star" was nothing more than a con artist living a lavish lifestyle by maxing out his fiancée's credit cards.
When the truth came out, my so-called good friend dumped all the blame on me. She sold fabricated scandals about me to the tabloids, destroying my reputation throughout New York's PR industry. In the end, she even pushed me from the top floor of the building.
She used my death to win sympathy and build herself a so-called "victim" persona.
But now, I'm back.
This time, I won't test anyone's love for her.
I'll make her watch every lie she fabricated come crashing down, one by one.

My husband bought a necklace for the woman who killed my mother.

When I saw my foster sister Rebecca Rebecca wearing that emerald necklace with Aaron at the party, I knew history would repeat itself. Seven years ago, my mother lost everything the same way—her husband, her dignity, and finally her life.

I wouldn't follow in her footsteps.

So after slapping Rebecca across the face, I told everyone I was divorcing him and walked out with my suitcase.

Rebecca thought she'd won again. Aaron thought I was just being hysterical.

Neither of them saw it coming—

This time, I'd make them pay.

After being reborn, my cousin and I swapped mates.
Last life, she married Kaelen Thornfield — the coldest Alpha in the West. Fifty years together and he never marked her. Not once. His childhood "friend," an Omega with a PhD in crying on command, made sure of that. My cousin faded into nothing. Unmarked. Unloved. Invisible.
Me? I married a man who couldn't stand the sound of my voice. Eleven months. Done.
This time, I took the western contract. Drove three days across the country in a beat-up truck, blew a radiator in the middle of nowhere, and rolled into his pack's territory covered in engine grease and smelling like a gas station.
His little Omega took one look at me and wrinkled her nose.
She has no idea what's coming.
I don't do tears. I don't do subtle. And when some girl sobbed at my mating ceremony about how jealous she was of me — I grabbed my Alpha by the collar and sank my teeth into his neck.
In front of the entire pack.
Without asking.

Three months ago, I was kidnapped. When Alexander rescued me, I woke up in a hospital bed with my clothes disheveled and bruises covering my body. What happened during those hours? I don't remember any of it.

A week ago, I found out I was pregnant. He held me as I shook and told me that it wasn't my fault. That he failed to protect me. Even if the baby wasn't his, he'd raise it. He'd still give me the perfect wedding.

But the guilt ate me alive until depression took hold.

Every night, sleep stays out of reach. Nightmares find me the moment I close my eyes. I've tried to end it. Three times now. Each time, someone found me just in time.

After the third failed attempt, I make tea and head toward his study to apologize. Voices drift through the door before I reach it.

"Are you out of your mind? Evelyn's your fiancée!" His friend sounds disbelieving. "You actually hired someone to kidnap her? Made her think she was assaulted? Just so Lily could take her place? Do you know how messed up that is? What that does to someone?"

Alexander's voice comes out calm. "Lily got sick because of me. Her dying wish is to marry me once before she goes. If I didn't push Evelyn out of the picture, her father would never let Lily take her place."

All those nights. All those nightmares. All those times I scrubbed my hands raw until they bled. It was all a lie. A setup.

For another woman.

I pull out my phone and call my father.

"Dad. I'll agree to the arrangement."

To please his mistress, Callum ordered me—pregnant—to dance barefoot in the black salt ice cellar.

When I stumbled back to the doorway to warm myself, the mistress covered her mouth and retched.

"I'm pregnant. I can't stand this death-stench of winter."

Only because I was a princess of the Winter Realm, born carrying frost in my veins.

Callum flew into a rage and had me locked inside a frost-crystal cage, sunk to the bottom of the ice well. No one was allowed to release me without his command.

"A princess of winter, afraid of the cold? What a joke!"

No matter how I struggled or begged, he couldn't have cared less. He and his mistress treated it as entertainment. And just like that, I froze to death at the bottom of that well.

What he didn't know was that although we winter-born are forged in bitter cold, when we carry a child, every drop of magic goes to protecting the baby. We have no defense left for ourselves. The very ice that shaped us becomes the thing that kills us.

Two days later, he was finally satisfied and ordered them to pull me up.

But I could never come back up again.

I chose the cheapest flowers in the shop because I thought my boyfriend was drowning in debt.
Hours later, I discovered he had sent his fiancée roses worth one hundred times more.
Julian Hart wasn't a struggling intern. He was the heir to Hart Group—and our entire relationship had been an experiment designed to test whether I was worthy of his fortune.
He expected me to forgive the lies.
He expected me to accept the career he destroyed.
He even expected me to come back after he refused to help save my grandmother.
Instead, I boarded a plane with another man and disappeared from his life.
Years later, the billionaire who once tested my love came begging for a second chance.

I am the only daughter of the Lycan King, the future queen destined to rule all packs. Yet my wolf, Nyx, is abnormally weak—like a stunted pup that never grew.
My parents told me that Lycan blood runs too strong, that I need to find my fated mate. Only through the mate bond can the seal be fully broken.
Ten days ago, Nyx suddenly whimpered in my mind, guiding my gaze toward Silvercrown Academy.
To find him, I concealed my identity as the Lycan King's heir and enrolled here as an ordinary transfer student.
I came here expecting a fairytale. Instead, what waited for me was brutal humiliation.

I stepped out of my OB-GYN appointment, only to be crushed by a speeding truck while my husband watched from the opposite curb, not even blinking.
I choked on my own blood before waking up on the exact same street corner.
I thought I had been reborn, but then I saw a glowing red number "4" burned into the skin of my forearm.
What the hell was happening?

The rain glistened over the harbor asphalt the night I meant to tell him I was pregnant — to lay out all my quiet hopes for our wedding and our future. That was the night I was stolen away.
I screamed for help from a city stitched with police tape and hollow warehouses, where every thread of trust had already frayed. The man who should have trusted me brushed my pleas aside.
As answers began to surface, what we once called love soured into guilt, consuming obsession, and cold, calculated cruelty. Blue gemstones glint amid burned‑away proof, storm‑lashed docks bear witness. And I am the voice they will never manage to bury.

I died the day before my brother Beckett’s state equestrian qualifiers.

Just because Beckett had mistakenly taken sedatives and fallen into a coma, my mother firmly believed that I—a worthless, sickly burden—had deliberately poisoned him out of jealousy to ruin her perfect son's future.

Ignoring my fatal immunodeficiency, knowing that even a microscopic trace of wasp venom would kill me, she dragged me into the abandoned tack room infested with wasp nests and locked the door.

Hundreds of wasps swarmed out. My airway rapidly swelled and closed amidst excruciating pain.

Through the wooden door, I heard my newly awakened brother crying and pleading, along with my mother's cold obstruction and curses.

Leaning against the corner of the wall, I slowly released my bloody, mangled fingers that had been clawing at the door.

In the final moments before my consciousness scattered, I finally stopped struggling.

Mother, if dying in this sunless tack room was your final expectation for me, then... as you wish.

On my anniversary flight to New York, fate sat my cheating husband's mistress right beside me.

Alice spent the entire trip gushing about "her Daniel" while wearing the sapphire ring he'd called "too vulgar" for his wife—me.

"She's so pathetic," Alice laughed, describing how Daniel planned to dump his "clingy" spouse. "Good riddance!"

If only she knew his "pathetic" wife was the billionaire secretly bankrolling his success.

At JFK, Daniel threw money at my feet and told me to disappear.

I smiled, dialed my investment firm, and watched his face crumble.

"Hello, darling. Your sugar mama just quit."

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.”

In my past life, I exposed my cousin Isolde's deadly secret just to save Darius from absolute ruin, binding myself to him in a Soul Pact instead.

My reward?

At three months pregnant, Darius chained me to a water dungeon altar, carved my stomach open alive, and smashed our unborn child to pieces right in front of my eyes—all as a twisted sacrifice to my cousin who supposedly "died for love."

When I opened my eyes again, I was right back at the Pact Selection Ceremony.

Watching him pull her into his arms like some priceless treasure, I simply smiled and took a tactful step back.

In this life, I am going to sit back and watch the two of them burn in hell together.

The day I closed another major deal, my fiancé, the CEO, smiles and tells me the credit and the bonus are going to the new intern.

I watch him lean in close to her, laughing, and something in me just stops caring enough to fight for it.

I sign the transfer request and ship myself off to the most useless department in the company.

What I don't expect is that a few days later, the same man who never looked twice at anyone beneath him is going to be on his knees begging me to come back.

Three years of marriage. Three pregnancies.

Every time I confirmed I was pregnant, my sister-in-law Ophelia would walk into the chapel behind the manor.

Then my in-laws would drag me to the hospital and force me to abort the healthy baby.

The night after my third miscarriage, I dragged my weakened body to follow her into the chapel.

The moment I pushed open that door, my blood ran cold.

In that instant, I finally understood why my three children had to die.

My husband never wore condoms with me. Said they ruined it for him. So I swallowed birth control pills for four years until they made me sick.
Then I found a half-empty box in his glove compartment. And a thong under his backseat.
That wasn't even the worst part.
The necklace I'd made from my mother's ashes—the one I'd been grieving over losing for a year—was dangling between his twenty-three-year-old trainee's tits. He stole it from our bedroom and gave it to her.
She caught me staring. She smiled.
When I confronted him, he slapped me. Then drove off with her crying in his passenger seat.
Her friends came to my hospital with a livestream, demanding I apologize for "bullying" her.
I led them straight to the parking garage.
They found her on a stretcher. Legs wrapped around my husband. No condom.
The whole internet watched.

As the only daughter of a mafia family, I learned early that trust doesn't come cheap. When my father got sick, he gave me an ultimatum: if I want to take over the family, I have to get married first.

Everyone assumed I'd pick my childhood friend, Vincent Moretti—son of my father's right-hand man. Hell, even I thought so. Until my last life, when he left me to burn.

Father died in an ambush. I was trapped in a metal cage at an abandoned dock warehouse while flames swallowed everything. I begged Vincent for help. He stood thirty feet away, the cage key right by his feet.

"Cat, as long as your father's alive, he'll never give me the family. This isn't personal. It's business."

Sophia was wrapped around him—my so-called best friend. She smiled at me and said she'd take good care of everything.

Before I lost consciousness, I saw a figure in black charging into the flames—Elijah, the bodyguard I'd called "trash" and "a dog."

Then I opened my eyes and woke up a month before my birthday party. This time, I'm giving that position to someone who actually deserves it.

But why is Vincent on his knees at my engagement party, crying and begging me to marry him?

I accompanied my husband, Kieran, down to the Antarctic station’s underground quarantine zone to rescue an ice-bacteria sample at negative forty degrees. Halfway there, he asked me to fetch some data. I was gone for exactly three minutes. When I came back, he had vanished.
The institute staff told me I had gone insane, wandering the halls searching for a husband who had been dead for three years.
They called Kieran’s mentor, Dr. Reiner. Through the phone, the old man wept, swearing that Kieran had fallen into the deepest ice rift in Antarctica three years ago. Not even his bones were recovered.
Branded a lunatic, I was thrown into a sealed bio-containment pod twenty miles away. I became a human guinea pig. Under endless rounds of experimental drugs, my organs failed one by one until I died on that cold metal table.
Then, I blinked. Kieran was standing right in front of me, rushing me to the lab...

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.

For months, my stepsister Mia stole my taste, my nutrition, and my vitality with a mysterious system. While I wasted away to skin and bones, she glowed brighter, stole my career, and took my fiancé.
She thought she could feed on me forever.
But she forgot her fatal allergy. I turned every meal into her poison.
I starved her system, broke her perfect facade, and took back everything she stole. Now the parasite is dying… and I’m alive again.

On the day of my prenatal checkup, I found out my husband, Caleb, was sleeping with his student.
That night, I spiked his Pinot Noir with poison. I watched him collapse, convulse, and take his agonizing last breath. Then, I dragged his body into the basement and sealed it inside an oak wine barrel.
For five years, I raised our daughter, Nora, on my own. I thought the secret would rot in the dark forever.
Until she told me: Daddy speaks to her from under the floorboards every night. His voice sounds muffled, like he’s talking through a thick blanket...

My fiancé accused me of not caring about family.
To appease him, I planned a family vacation.
But the night before we left, he informed me that he'd given my first-class seat to his childhood sweetheart.
And me? He stuck me in coach on a flight flagged for possible terror threats.
Everyone in his family thought I should just go along with it.
That was the moment I woke up.
I tore up the itinerary and booked myself a trip to Hawaii instead.
Then I turned off my phone and let them sweat over the hotel bill.
It wasn't until their reservation got canceled that they finally started to panic.

My boyfriend faked being broke to test me. Three years of it.
When I turned down his last test, I watched him settle his new girlfriend's family debt in one afternoon. Cash he swore he never had.
Told me he'd been rich the whole time. Said he needed to know if I loved him or his money.
Said I failed.
I didn't argue. I just walked out.
Funny thing is, I wasn't broke either. I was the last pureblood heir to the strongest pack on the continent, and I'd been hiding that the whole time too.
Four years later, we ran into each other again. And this time I wasn't hiding anything.

When my fiancée’s medical exam revealed kidney failure, I prepared to sell our home—and even give her one of my kidneys.
Before sacrificing everything, I tested her with one lie.
I told her the dying patient was me.
She canceled our wedding in seconds, refused to return my money, and planned to keep our apartment after my death.
Then she picked up the report and saw the patient’s name.
It wasn’t mine.
It was hers.

"Tomorrow, dress formal. We're going back for the family sit-down."
"Are you going to make our relationship public?"
"Public what? You—as my Consigliere, or... as my mistress."
At the pre-engagement dinner, he picked simple Italian dishes, Black Forest cake, and pink-and-white roses for Amelie. Side by side, they smiled as they reminisced about their "fated encounters," his ears even turning red.
"We kept ‘running into’ each other in high school," she said.
I lowered my eyes with a small, bitter smile—those had all been his carefully designed coincidences.
When the accident happened, he pulled her into his arms first. "Don't be scared. Look at me." I shivered among shattered glass and the smell of blood. He never once looked at me.
Later, with the wedding was half prepared, I returned my signet ring, keys, and comm devices according to family rules, took my parents and emigrated. The sea wind shredded those passed New York nights.

"I want a divorce. "
The day before her third wedding anniversary, Fiona sees her husband walking to the obstetrics wing with his arm around his ex-girlfriend, Rowena. Rowena is pregnant.
Heartbroken, Fiona rejects Micah, her husband, her mate, the Lycan Prince of the Alastair Kingdom, and leaves the pack.

However, to Fiona’s surprise, after being rejected, Micah goes crazy looking for her all over the world.
Until one day, when he sees her walking down the street holding a little girl, he pins her against the wall.
“Is she my daughter?” Micah hisses.

Irene was in a relationship with her fiance Perry for seven years.
On the day before her wedding, she witnessed her bestie having sex with her fiance in her wedding room.
To take revenge on Perry, she had one-night stand with Perry's boss--Nathan.
Nathan was super-rich and irresistibly attractive. Obviously, he was much better than Perry in all aspects.
Coincidentally, Irene ran into this shameless couple in the shopping mall. Her bestie teased her that no one would fancy a girl like her.
She happened to see Nathan and made a hint to him. Then Nathan went by and kissed Irene, "Sweetie, why do you leave me alone in bed this morning?"

My name is Kevin. At thirty years of age, I am blessed with a kind, beautiful, and alluring wife, known for her stunning figure, along with a joyful family. My greatest regret stems from a car accident that resulted in kidney damage, rendering me impotent. Despite being in the presence of my enchanting and insatiable wife, I find myself unable to achieve an erection.
My mother passed away early in my life, and my kind-hearted, strong father has taken on the role of caring for my children at home. Attempting countless remedies to regain normal erectile function has proved futile. One day, while browsing the internet, I stumbled upon adult literature involving a father-in-law and daughter-in-law, which inexplicably captivated and aroused me immediately.
Lying beside my peacefully sleeping wife, I began to superimpose her image onto the daughter-in-law character from the story, which aroused me to an extraordinary degree. I even discovered that imagining my wife with my father while pleasuring myself was more gratifying than being intimate with her. Realizing I accidentally unearthed Pandora's box, I acknowledge that there is no turning back from this newfound and uncontrollable excitement...

Madison Harper knows all too well the chaos Alexander Knight leaves in his wake. As the billionaire CEO’s personal assistant, she’s cleaned up after countless scandals, soothed ex-lovers, and kept his messy private life from spilling into the boardroom. But when one fateful night lands her in Alexander’s bed, the dynamics shift dramatically.
What begins as a moment of uncontrollable spirals into a neither can resist: Madison needs financial help for her mother’s mounting medical bills, and Alexander offers the resources—on the condition she becomes his girlfriend for a year. No strings, no emotions, just business.
But as the lines between their professional and private lives blur, Madison’s resolve to keep her heart guarded begins to waver. Beneath Alexander’s reckless charm lies a magnetic that draws her closer than she ever intended. Just as she starts to believe she might be more than his latest “arrangement,” the ghost of Alexander’s long-lost first love, Katherine, reappears, threatening to unravel everything they’ve built.
Can Madison protect her heart while navigating this high-stakes game of desire and deception? Or will this with her infamously reckless boss cost her more than she’s prepared to lose?

All because of one sentence from Helena, my family's adopted daughter, my brothers threw me into a snake pit in my last life—
When I opened my eyes again, I was twenty years old. Right back at the moment my brothers started forcing me to donate blood as Helena's personal lab rat.
This time, I refuse to give in.
To hell with my brothers—I'll make sure they end up bankrupt and homeless!
Continuously updating, with 3 chapters added daily.

On her way to her father's funeral, Elaine Foster was nearly killed by a hitman hired by her stepmother. But when she woke up, she had somehow become Audrey Parker, the wife of a powerful business tycoon. "Hahaha! Now I can cling to my CEO husband and crush those scumbags!" she thought gleefully.
Before she could even celebrate, her so-called husband coldly tossed a divorce agreement in front of her. "Audrey Parker, sign this. It's your last chance."
Divorce? Not a chance! She’d rather lose her life than her marriage.
"My love for you is as boundless as the rushing river, as unstoppable as the Yellow River in flood! How could you bear to leave me?"
The CEO’s lips twitched, and after a long pause, he managed only one word: "Leave."
Elaine took a step closer, batting her eyelashes as she playfully poked his chest. "Leave... and roll right into your arms?"
"Shameless."
She clasped her hands together in mock courtesy. "You flatter me."
From that day on, she embarked on a fearless journey—backed by the mighty CEO, no ghost or demon could touch her.

On our wedding night, James moaned my sister's name while inside me.

I shoved him off in fury. He looked down me with contempt.

"You're just a replacement for Raina. Don't expect too much."

Later, a fake surveillance video pinned Raina's death on me.

I couldn't prove my innocence. James had me thrown into prison.

For three whole years, I endured abuse behind bars.

The day James picked me up, he tore off my clothes and forced himself inside me.

Afterward, he tossed a document at me. "Sign it."

Turns out David—his and Raina's son—had leukemia.

He wanted me to bear a child—only to sacrifice it to save the one he had with Raina?

I couldn't accept it.

A cold smirk crossed his handsome face. "Refuse? Then your mother's medical funding ends now."

"Your only value lies in your womb. Learn to obey."

From then on, he came to my room nightly. There was no tenderness, only brutal taking.

Then fate played its cruelest joke.

I discovered a paternity test—it proved I was David's biological mother.

Which meant... David was my son? Mine and James's?

In her previous life, Lilah Hart was a ruthless business queen, commanding respect and fear across the corporate world. Now, she wakes up in the body of a notorious villainess from a melodramatic romance novel, hated by everyone and destined to lose everything—her reputation, her marriage, and her sanity.

But Lilah refuses to play the victim again. This time, she fights back. She slaps her fake best friend without hesitation and clings to her cold, powerful husband, Gabriel Wallace, with tearful eyes and a pitiful smile. "Darling, I know you still love me. Let's get back together."

Gabriel has resisted her countless times, but her charm finally breaks through. With a dark gaze, he pins her down and asks, "How exactly do you want to make up?" Lilah gives him a sweet kiss and whispers her bold request—seven times tonight.

Veronica Demoore was the girl everyone despised.
Mocked for her weight, humiliated for her grades, and crushed beneath a brutal home life, she lived every day as the target of ridicule—until the day she couldn’t bear it anymore.
The world thought Veronica died that night.
But when she opens her eyes again… someone else is looking through them.
Savanna.
A woman once raised in the shadows of a powerful organization. A genius trained to survive, manipulate, and dominate. In her previous life, she had wealth, intelligence, and strength. In this one, she has none of those things—only Veronica’s broken body and shattered reputation.
But weakness is temporary.
Bullies who once laughed at Veronica soon discover the girl they tormented is no longer the same.
Her mind is sharper. Her gaze is colder. And the quiet girl they used to push around now carries a dangerous confidence.
As Savanna begins transforming Veronica’s life piece by piece—losing weight, exposing enemies, and rising to the top of the school—the truth behind her rebirth slowly unfolds.
Because Savanna didn’t die by accident. And the people who killed her are still out there. This time, she won’t be their victim. This time— she’s coming for everything.

One month before my wedding, I was trying on the wedding dress I'd designed myself when a message from a friend popped up: [Diana, get over here! Your fiancé just lost at Truth or Dare and has to kiss your rival.]

She sacrificed a brilliant career to be his secret wife. But on their anniversary, he gifted his precious first love a $15M piano, while tossing her a dog-eared cookbook. In that moment, seven years of silent devotion died. The countdown began.

For thirty days, she watched his other woman move in. For thirty days, she endured his neglect and cruelty. She let them believe they had won. All while quietly securing the world-class career she once walked away from.

When the clock struck zero, she boarded the flight without a look back. He was left holding the empty life she built, finally screaming a name he never truly valued—into a silence she no longer cared to hear.

Luna Elena Frost was never chosen, only assigned.
Bound to Alpha Alaric Ashbourne through a cold contractual marriage, she endures three years as a Luna in name only. He never comes home, never defends her, and never looks at her, while his heart belongs to another woman.
At his grandmother’s funeral, Alaric publicly dissolves their marriage, humiliating Elena before the entire pack. In that moment, she finally understands the truth. She was never wanted.
But the Moon has not abandoned her.
A forgotten night resurfaces. Her long-silent wolf begins to awaken. And secrets buried within her bloodline start to surface, drawing danger from every direction.
Cast out by the pack that once used her, Elena must flee, survive, and uncover her true power.
Only then does the Alpha realize his mistake.
By the time he turns back in regret, the Luna he rejected may already be gone forever.