2348 Book(s) Related to Falling Slowly… For Her Rival’s Son

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

Neither of them manages it.

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

It just keeps syncing.

Every time.

I thought the worst pain was loving someone who didn't love me back. I was wrong.

The worst pain is standing in front of your soulmate while he looks at you like you're nothing.

Alpha King Valerius didn't just reject me at our mating ceremony. He humiliated me. He stripped my rank and made me a slave. When his new woman demanded I disappear, he sent assassins to make sure I never came back.

So I jumped off a cliff into the Dead Lands where wolves go to die.

But I didn't die. And he never knew I was carrying his child.

Five years later, I'm back. Not as the weak omega he threw away, but as the Rogue Queen with an army at my back and his son by my side.

He wants forgiveness now. He says the mate bond is still alive.

Too bad. I already buried it with the girl he killed.

“Three years ago, you were the last person I wanted to see. Today, you’re the last person I should ever love.”

I thought I had buried my first love along with the girl I used to be. Three years ago, I disappeared into the sea, leaving everyone to believe I was dead. I survived—but the girl who once loved Dmitri with all her heart never came back.

Now I’m Celeste again: stronger, colder, and determined to build a life that belongs to me. I have a job to protect, a father to save, and no intention of falling for the man who once owned my heart.

Then Dmitri walks back into my life.

Powerful, unreadable, and as dangerously captivating as ever, he refuses to treat me like a stranger. He insists I work directly with him, watches every move I make, and seems determined to keep me within reach.

But he’s supposed to be marrying Marie—the woman connected to the nightmare that nearly killed me.

If Dmitri wants a second chance, he’ll have to face the truth about our past.

And when the truth finally comes out, will he be the man who saves me—or the one who destroys me all over again?

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

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

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

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

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

I almost died giving birth to my daughter. The doctors gave me a thirty percent chance of survival — and I took it, because I thought a child might finally make my husband choose home over her.

I was wrong.

I stood in the hallway and listened to Kael tell his mother that I was "more resilient" — that the risks of childbirth were too serious for the woman he truly loved, so it had to be me. I was not his wife. I was a vessel.

Then my daughter, the child I had bled for, looked me in the eyes and said she wished Ivy were her mother instead.

That was the night I stopped waiting.

I filed for divorce. I walked out. I reclaimed the research career I had abandoned for a man who never saw me. And I told myself I was done.

What I didn't expect was the little boy I pulled back from the edge of suffocation — a child with no parents, a face I couldn't stop feeling I recognized, and a medical robot I had designed with my own hands tucked inside his coat.

Who is he? And why does finding him feel like the beginning of something I'm not ready for?

"Sorry, boss's strict orders. No one is to disturb the top floor tonight."
The bodyguards blocked my way, their guns aimed right at me. I was Dante's wife, standing there holding the soup I'd made for his stomach, yet I was being treated like a trespasser.
I ignored them and forced my way in anyway. Through the crack in the door, I saw everything perfectly clear. Dante didn't draw his gun on the woman who had once kidnapped me. Instead, the notoriously cold-blooded crime boss was using his personal handkerchief to patiently bandage her bleeding palm.

My brother Soren is a figure skating prodigy. Every dollar in our house, every hour, every scrap of attention — all his.
Me? I'm the kid who doesn't need to be seen.
The night before Nationals, I told my mom my stomach hurt so bad I could barely stand. She said I was making trouble. Dad told me to take a painkiller and tough it out. Then they loaded up the car and drove two hundred miles to watch Soren skate.
They didn't come home until Sunday night. By then, I'd been dead for over a day.
I called her. Again and again. She had her phone on airplane mode.
Now I'm a ghost, drifting behind their car on the highway home. They're laughing, complaining I didn't even text Soren a congratulations.
I wonder what their faces will look like when they walk through that door.

My body pressed against Raymond's, my kisses stretching from his lips to his chin and throat.

He suddenly rolled over and pinned me underneath him, gripping my chin tightly. "You asked for it!" He growled, grabbing my lips and kissing me furiously.

I let out a playful whistle and trailed my fingers down his chest before deftly undoing his belt.

Raymond's breath was coming in quicker and quicker, his eyes locked on mine. "Damn it, Amelia, I'm going to fuck you"

But I wasn't there to fuck, I was there to torture him. As he lunged at me, I quickly flipped him over and handcuffed him to the table. "Sorry, tonight is my time, not yours."
After that night of madness, I fled in a panic. Five years later, I returned with our child

After Raymond found out about my transgressions, I was convinced I wouldn't live to see the next dawn.

I distanced myself from him, feared him, even considered hurting him.

To my surprise, the aloof heir to the Adams family clasped my hand and pleaded, "Honey, when are you gonna fuck me again?"

"Sign the paper. You get the money to save your family, and I get to stay on the ice. It’s strictly business."

Chloe lost everything in a single night. Her wicked step-family stole her grandmother's medical fund, and she just caught her boyfriend kissing her stepsister in the campus library.

At the edge of expulsion, Ryder, the wealthy, dangerous, and ruthless captain of the university hockey team facing a massive suspension right before the championship, offered her an ironclad contract.

No feelings, no real kisses. Just tutoring and public appearances.

But as late-night study sessions heat up and the boundaries begin to blur, what happens when the ruthless hockey god decides he wants to rewrite the rules and play for keeps?

The day I get diagnosed with stage four lung cancer, I can finally stop selling plasma.

For five years, I thought I was paying for the fire that killed my parents and son, left my brother disabled. Selling plasma, joining drug trials, doing the worst jobs imaginable, all to pay back a debt that wasn't even real.

The doctor says I have a few weeks left. I clutch the diagnosis report and head home to tell them.

The moment I push open the door, I see my parents in the kitchen, the ones who supposedly died in the fire. My brother, who was supposed to be in a wheelchair, stands there raising a glass, laughing with my husband.

My brother shrugs like it's nothing. "The broken leg was fake the whole time. You were the only one hurt in the fire. We just wanted to teach you a lesson, make you appreciate things."

"We were going to tell you eventually." My husband pats my shoulder. "Go apologize to Vanessa. Stop giving her a hard time."

"All the money you gave us went to Vanessa," Dad says. "That's what you get for throwing your bio-daughter status in her face."

I touch the diagnosis in my pocket. Everything was a lie. The only truth is that I'm dying.

All I wanted was a quiet place to live. I drained my savings and paid eighty thousand extra for the one unit on the row with a private backyard.
On my very first day, I found my neighbor's son beating my new hydrangeas with a stick while his mother stood there filming him and laughing.
Bianca says the yard belongs to everybody. Her husband is vice president of the HOA board, so around here, whatever he says is the law.
I showed them my deed. I called the police. I sent a certified letter. Every single time the answer came back the same. This is a civil matter, ma'am. Maybe try being a better neighbor.
Then her son put a rock through my living room window, and the HOA fined me two hundred and fifty dollars for putting a lock on my own gate.
Fine. They want that gate open? It stays open.
I just made one phone call. A truck is already on its way.

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

The rules were supposed to keep me safe:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not with my child.”


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

An heir.

That was all Adrian Blackwood ever wanted from me.

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

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

Until fate played its cruel joke.

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

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

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

Then a voice activated in his head.

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

One mission. One million dollars.

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

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

I was the most revered pureblood Light heir.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rhett and I hated each other for ten years.

He hated me because my father drugged his drink and arranged for me to end up in his bed.

He was forced to marry me. Kendall, the stepsister he cherished, couldn’t handle the shock and ran away. She was later kidnapped and murdered outside the city.

I hated him for blaming everything on me. He never touched me, never looked at me, and never spoke a single word to me.

Our marriage became a cold, lonely grave.

Then I was kidnapped.

He stormed into an abandoned warehouse and threw himself between me and the bomb.

Before he died, he said, “Maren, if we get another life, I hope we never meet again.”

When I open my eyes again, I’m back in that hotel room ten years earlier.

Rhett lies on the bed in a Manhattan hotel suite, his shirt hanging open, his skin flushed and his breathing ragged.

This time, I don’t go near him.

I call my father instead.

“Dad, call off the security guards. I don’t want him anymore.”

“Book me a flight out of the country. The sooner, the better.”

After the wedding, my husband moved his dead fiancée's mother into our guest room. The whole town called it the kindest thing they'd ever seen.
Every morning, Dione made me a green smoothie. Her grandmother's recipe, she said. Good for the nerves.
I never drank a single one. I poured them all into the chicken feed.
In my last life, I drank them. One a day, for thirty days.
Then I started losing time. I would blink at breakfast and come back at dinner. I found notes in my own handwriting that I never wrote.
I begged Julian to take me to a doctor. He held my shoulders and smiled. "You're just tired, baby. Drink your smoothie."
On the thirtieth night, I fell asleep in my own bed, in my own body.
I never woke up. Someone else did.
This time, every glass went to Nugget, the smallest of my backyard hens.
And one night, a hen crowed in my backyard.
Hens don't crow. And we don't have a rooster.

She never wanted to be a Breeder--but her parents sold her anyway.

The Alpha King is looking for an heir in the most unorthodox way. Whoever can impregnate the Breeder first will get to be king, which means Rose finds herself in a castle where she must submit to four men or disappoint her entire pack. Though she's nervous at first, it's easier than she would've thought once she meets the four Alphas.
Mark is intelligent.
Eli is sweet.
Reece is debonair.
And Tristan is a horny goofball.
Rose wants to stay with all four Alphas forever, and they seem to love her, too. But things aren't always what they seem, especially when the king's cousin, Emily, announces she will be the next Luna.
Will Rose and her men have a chance at true love?

Tags(#R18,#Reincarnation,#BL,#CEO,#Romance,#Babies,#Powerfulcouple,#Superpowers, #Transmigration

(Mature Content, No Rape)

Zhao  Ting, eighteen-year-old girl,  fell into a set up that was formed destroying her life as the Zhao Princess and which also leads to her death but what happens when a new soul reincarnates in her body?

How would her life or fate change ?

Follow me as we go through this life-changing stories with many mysteries and tragedies.

sneak peek*

"Mommy, Mommy that's my one and only ice cream." Shen Bao her daughter whined chasing after her in the living room inside their Mansion in Kashanon Village.

Her daughter was chasing her around the sitting room as they ran in circles around the couches.

"But... But.. this is mine Shen Bao, you already had yours, this is so unfair." She was already panting and exhausted, she bent down to grasp some breath.

Her heart beat raced as her face was flushed, her doe eyes were very clear and beautiful, her dark eyebrows accentuated her facial features very well.

She now looked very young and just like a doll, her body had regressed after being sick and frail for so many years, you would think she was Shen Bao's elder sister.

" Xiao Bao stop it." Shen Wei walked in from the entrance door, his tone commanding, after seeing her panting heavily, he never wanted her to do anything that could exhaust her.

"Dadyyyy... it's her...."

The cover doesn't belong to me and credit goes to the owner, if you want me to pull it down do inform me.*

**Weekly Targets..

*400 power stones= 2 bonus chapter.
*600 power stones= 3 bonus chapters
*800 power stones= 4 bonus chapters.
*10Golden Tickets= 2 bonus chapters.
100 Golden Tickets= 5 bonus chapters.

*Monthly Targets...
500 Golden Tickets= 5 bonus chapters.

1000 Golden Tickets= 10 bonus chapters.

I spent sixteen years bleeding to protect my family, only for them to harvest my power to keep my sister alive.
My sister wanted my fiancé, so my family gave him to her.
My sister wanted my magic, so they pinned me down and carved the dragon scale straight out of my chest.
When she wanted the ultimate power of the Dragon Priestess, they framed me for a crime I didn't commit and chained me in a lightless dungeon so she could take my place to be Crimson Dragon Priestess.
But on the night of the coronation, the legendary Dragon Gate didn't descend upon the royal altar.
It crashed straight through the roof of my prison cell.
And the Dragon God only answers to blood.

Every time my husband’s adopted sister, Avey, had a tennis match, he would force a dark green concoction down my throat. As soon as it kicked in, my entire body would turn weak and aching.
He claimed it was a folk remedy, and I believed him.
In half a year, I lost twenty pounds, half my hair fell out, and I lost our four-month-old baby.
Until the night I overheard them whispering behind a cracked door—they had sought out a witch and cast a dark curse.
My forced standstill was the price for her endless stamina. All her fatigue and sports injuries were being directly transferred to me.
Late that night, listening to them plot to drain the life out of me, I made a choice. On the very night Avey won her championship, I climbed into a deep hibernation pod. I traded thirty days of absolute physical stasis to ensure she could never stop.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Friend?

My hand holding the crystal shakes.

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

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

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

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

Je comprends tout, Marcus. I understand everything.

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

He has no idea what's coming.

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

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

I said yes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was the last time he would doubt my feelings.

I was taking my heart back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. Because you were late.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Je comprends tout. I understand everything.

Over the champagne and candlelight, I smile at him.

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

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

In my last life, my parents favored my younger brother. They promised him to the angel who would remain on the surface, and shoved me to an abyssal demon.
When the apocalypse came, the angel burned through her divine power and fell. I took my family in out of kindness, and they repaid me with a bowl of poisoned soup.
When I opened my eyes again, our whole family had reincarnated.
This time, my parents couldn’t wait to push my brother into the demon’s arms, dreaming of living off him inside the abyssal lair.
I watched them sign the shadow contract like they were grabbing a priceless treasure, then took the rejected holy-light angel without hesitation.
They had no idea the Abyss’s shelter is paid for in flesh and blood.
But an angel’s loyalty can raise an iron divine kingdom that never falls, even in this world-ending flood.

My woozy brain managed to register my body being laid on a soft bed... I held on tightly to his neck, grinning stupidly, "you're so handsome. I like to kiss handsome men."
A soft chuckle, "darling, you..." I raised my head to jam my lips with his, cutting him off.


The accident that was meant to end her, put Roxanne in coma for a year. When she woke up, her memory was a blank. Then she finds herself in a contract marriage with Josh Caldwell, her CEO husband, who's betrothed to marry the true heiress of the powerful Gilmore Empire.
Five years later, her husband's woman is back. Vanessa Gilmore — the beautiful, manipulative heiress of Gilmore Empire. Roxanne is tossed aside.
The boy she'd taken care of since he was a baby was snatched from her. She has lost...and she knows it. Then comes Kylian Caldwell, the half brother of her ex-husband, a well known playboy and black sheep of the Caldwell, to the rescue.
With him by her side, she's about to discover that the past isn't dead...and that her memory holds the key to unlocking secrets, including her stolen identity and the child she didn't know she'd given birth to.
But when the truth finally comes spilling and two brothers fight for her heart, will she be able to stand against the enemies who will stop at nothing to keep what is rightfully hers, even if it means driving a wedge between her and the man who's ready to rain down hell just to protect her?

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.

A week before our wedding, I discovered my girlfriend wearing the wedding dress I bought her, having sex with her step-brother.
I decisively chose to abandon her and instead accepted a marriage proposal from a true wealthy heiress.
But when I married the heiress, my ex-girlfriend knelt on the ground crying and begging me to come back.
What a pity - I no longer want her.

When he found out I’d injured my leg and couldn't scrub in to deliver the billionaire's baby tomorrow, my boyfriend’s first reaction wasn't concern. He gritted his teeth and snapped, "Hannah, you did this on purpose, didn't you? Why today of all days? Are you really throwing away your entire career just to spite me?!"
I didn't argue. I just stared at the medical chart labeled Eleanor Whitlock, my fingers trembling.
In my past life, I took this assignment. I was drugged and locked in a supply closet. A few hours later, the mother and baby were dead—and the security footage showed a nurse with my face poisoning them. I died in a damp prison cell, branded a murderer.
Reborn into this life, I just wanted to escape this fatal trap.
But somehow, the security cameras had once again captured "me" walking into that delivery room.

After a car accident robbed Galvin of his memory, lies twisted him into hating Ellie—the woman he once sacrificed everything to protect.
Tormented and humiliated by him daily, Ellie’s love for Galvin faded completely. He made her sleep like a dog, stripped her before men, and forced her to kneel for his stepsister who stole him from her.
Only when Ellie gave up on love and jumped into the sea did Galvin’s memory return. In the splendid capital, all witnessed a madman desperately searching for his lost wife…

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the duct tape binding my wrists, and the second was that I had been kidnapped by a billionaire mafia boss who grabbed the wrong girl.

I would like to say my first reaction was brave, but it was mostly just panic. I was shoved into a massive stone mansion—the kind with gold columns and chandeliers the size of cars. If I was going to be kidnapped, I honestly expected something a little less... expensive.

I was dragged into a room full of terrifying men in suits. That’s when he walked in. Adrian DeLuca. Tall, broad-shouldered, with intense green eyes and a calmly dangerous physique that made everyone else in the room freeze. He was the CEO of Kidnapping, and annoyingly attractive. He stared at me, his sharp jawline tight, and said calmly, "This isn’t the Viper’s daughter. Who is this?"

I exhaled. "Well, you kidnapped me by mistake. Can I go home now? I have tuition to pay."

But Adrian didn't laugh. He stepped closer, his presence suffocatingly powerful. He had run a background check. "Your mother's maiden name is Volkov," he whispered, his eyes dark with a lethal promise. "The woman we intended to kidnap is the Viper’s daughter... and so are you."

My brain stalled. My absentee father was a ruthless crime lord?

"You are useful to me now," Adrian commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You will remain in this house. You will go where I tell you, and you will do what I tell you."

I glared at him. "You don't own me!"

He leaned in, his breath brushing my ear. "I do now."

I smile like someone on the edge of violence. "Oh, that's what you're worried about? Relax, I planned for this. I worked overtime for months. All three jobs approved my time off. My bills are paid. My cats are fed. My soul is moisturized. I'm free, Mike."
He shakes his head slowly. "Yeah… no. I can't take you with me."
"What did you just say?" I ask, suddenly forgetting how to breathe through my nose.
"You can't come," he repeats, avoiding my eyes.
I cross my arms. "You promised, Mike. Two years ago, you said you weren't qualified. Then you got promoted, but last year, you went alone. You said you'd take me this year. You promised."
"You need to understand me, dear. I already promised to take someone else. I can't break my word."
"Oh. But you can break your word to me?"
"You're my future wife," he says, tone so rational I want to scream. "We're getting married in six months. You should be understanding, Winter. Do you really want your husband to look bad in front of people?"
I stare at him like he's grown two extra heads. "Mike. Who are you taking?"
He doesn't flinch. "Your cousin, Olivia."


Winter thought the worst thing was being replaced with her cousin… until she crashed the company's luxury retreat, almost drowned, and woke up pretending to have amnesia—right in front of the man who humiliated her.
Now she's stuck playing fake fiancée and sharing a room with a sexy stranger who clearly hates her guts… but can't stop staring at her lips like he wants to ruin her.
With an ex who suddenly cares way too much, her dream career on the line, and revenge heating up faster than the resort's hot tubs, Winter is about to turn heartbreak into the most unforgettable comeback of the year.
But there's just one twist: her fake fiancé is actually the new billionaire chairman of the company… and he's falling for her, hard.