2910 Book(s) Related to claiming my hockey rival

I was reborn twelve hours before the anomaly occurred.

In my previous life, I died tragically in a sea of fire, unable to even protect my three-year-old daughter.

In this life, I returned from hell with the "Shadow" that rules the abyss, only to discover that the only antidote to ending the wasteland lies in my daughter's palm.

Her ex-wife, who was possessed by a monster, the greedy military, and even "myself" who went mad across parallel universes all tried to tear her apart and suck her blood.

You want to harm my daughter? Fine. Then let's see if you can withstand this all-consuming polar night!

I thought the orchestrated assault was the most profound betrayal of my life. Then, from the shadows of the wine cellar, I heard my husband and his brothers toasting to their success.
"The slow-motion capture of her climax, paired with those broken whimpers... it was cinematic perfection."
"She played her part beautifully. After all, she’s just a Valenti."
I learned the devastating truth: my agony was their scripted entertainment. My husband. The director.
He married me to claim his inheritance.
He branded me to mark his property.
He caused my miscarriage in that dungeon, coldly calling it "tidying up loose ends."
But they overlooked one ancient law—the Moretti blood oath: should the Don betray his vows, everything becomes his wife's.
Now, I stand in the penthouse of his casino.
My fingers trace the scar on my shoulder—now transformed into a dagger.
"Darling, you celebrated the anniversary of your production. My gift to you is a lifetime behind bars."
Now, the final cut is mine.

I was bought into this world. For twenty-three years, my adoptive mother swept floors, scrubbed toilets, and endured endless orders from others just to keep me alive. Then one day, I discovered she had been depositing forty-four thousand dollars into an overseas account every single year for two decades. They called it a "custody fee". When a mysterious organization showed up, slammed coins in her face and threw a contract written in blood right in front of me, I finally learned whose blood runs through my veins. From that day on, I will prove to everyone: no one shall ever hurt my family.

The day my husband gave me a five-carat diamond ring, his mistress spotted it on my hand. Wearing the exact same ring, she accused me of stealing her man. Before I could explain, she and her bridesmaids beat me to death.   My husband shielded her from the law and married her before I was even buried. My mother-in-law embraced her simply for being pregnant.   Then I opened my eyes on the day I received that ring.   This time, I slipped it onto my mother-in-law's finger.

"What gives a scarred freak like you the right to stand next to him?"
Four years ago, a brutal attack left a hideous burn scar across the left side of my face. Ever since, I've hidden behind a black mask, fading into the darkest corners of St. Oak High. I thought if I just stayed perfectly invisible, I could survive high school in peace.
Then Michael came back.
He's the President of Model UN, an Ivy-League-bound genius, and the golden boy everyone revolves around. And me? I’m just a damaged outcast too terrified to show my own face.
The harder I pushed him away, the closer he got.
But when a video from four years ago surfaces—showing him throwing a punch just to defend me—his flawless future is suddenly on the line. That's when I knew I couldn't hide in the shadows anymore.
This time, even if it means exposing my ugliest scars to the harsh light of day, I will do whatever it takes to protect him.

I woke up back on the night Rhys’s Blood Tide Frenzy hit.
This time, I wouldn’t offer my blood to calm him. Instead, I sent an urgent Message Crystal to Seraphina—his precious white moonlight.
In my past life, I saw Rhys’s Blood Tide spiraled out of control, threatening to tear his body apart.
In my past life, when he commanded me to call Seraphina, I had let my pathetic, unrequited love blind me.
I offered my own body as the cure, desperately weaving the Origin Blood Seal with him.
Not long after, I fell pregnant with his half-blood child.
He had no choice but to plan our wedding. On the big day, Seraphina was ambushed by blood hunters.
She sent ninety-nine distress blood signals, yet he was tied up with wedding duties and never saw a single one.
After his beloved nearly died, he laid every ounce of blame on me.
When I went into labor, he locked me away in the Blood Dungeon. He drained every drop of my Origin Blood in a ritual meant to resurrect Seraphina, leaving me and our unborn baby to die in agony.
As my life slipped away, his words echoed in my ears: I’d ruined his one true love, and both me and the child deserved to perish.
When I opened my eyes again, I was right back to that night.

“Smile, Natalie,” Callum whispered before he walked onstage.

So I smiled while he thanked another woman for the crisis plan I had written. I smiled when he pinned my grandmother’s sapphire brooch to her dress. I even smiled when his message came in, canceling our nineteenth appointment at the county clerk’s office.

Then I walked out with our unsigned marriage license papers in my purse and called the one CEO he hated most.

By the time Callum realized I wasn’t waiting anymore, I had already taken my name, my work, and my future back.

Seven years ago, Alpha Matthew's fiancée Elvira ran off with another alpha. I was just his assistant back then, harboring a secret crush but never imagining we could be together.

That night I picked him up from the bar. He was drunk and had been drugged. One night later I was pregnant, and Matthew became convinced I was the one who drugged him, that I'd schemed my way into becoming his luna. He hated me, but still gave me the title of secret mate. No mating ceremony, just a contract. My son and I lived in the guest wing of his estate for seven years.

Last night he drunkenly spun Liam around in circles. My son thought he was finally being accepted. But I heard the name Matthew was murmuring—Elvira. She was coming back, with her son.

I held my transfer request to the Eastern Region. This time, we're done waiting.

Sydney is reborn on National Decision Day after being betrayed and killed by her boyfriend Carter, her childhood friend Julian, and the scheming Harper.
Determined not to be their cash cow and victim again, she uses her family’s power to expose their crimes and fake innocent personas in front of Beverly Hills elites.
Ruined and desperate, the three traitors turn on each other and die on the same rooftop where they murdered her. Sydney finally breaks free and starts a brilliant new life at Harvard.

Nobody would believe that I, Sienna, the glamorous CEO's wife in the eyes of outsiders, couldn't even scrape together two decent outfits in my closet after three years of marriage.   And no one knew that every single cent I spent in private—from my brother's life-saving medical bills down to a pack of tampons—had to go through my husband's childhood sweetheart and personal assistant via a so-called corporate expense approval system.   I lived like a beggar, groveling for scraps under his assistant's watchful eye.   It wasn't until my critically ill brother's life-saving funds were maliciously rejected, turning my only remaining soft spot in this world to ashes, that this absurd marriage finally came to an end.

A 250-pound girl stole my body.

Over the phone, she cackled triumphantly, "Your flawless face, your wealth... it's all mine now!"

I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the heavy layers of fat that used to be hers. I didn't scream. I didn't beg for it back.

Instead, I hung up the phone, let out a long breath of relief, and just started laughing.

She thought she had stolen the glamorous, perfect life of a Hollywood socialite.

But she had no idea that in just a few hours, the severe drug withdrawals in that body would hit. She didn’t know that my cold-blooded mother would soon be standing over her with a loaded syringe, and a greasy, powerful producer was waiting in a penthouse bed to pin her down.

Since she wanted my life so desperately...

Let her walk through the gates of hell herself.

My three-year-old daughter hides behind the sofa whenever I try to hold her now.

“Mommy is scary,” she whispers, clutching her stuffed bear like a shield.

I thought it was just a toddler’s overactive imagination.

Until I checked the camera feed in my own bedroom.

I watched a woman who looked exactly like me step out of the shadows of our antique mirror, slip into my husband’s bed, and kiss him.

The man I loved and the family I trusted became my worst nightmares. They destroyed my child and tortured me to death over a blood curse. Reborn once more, I hold all the painful memories. I will tear off their masks of kindness, seek justice, and flee far away to start a brand new life, free from all suffering and betrayal.

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

I spent fifteen years taking beatings in the Bronx hellhole — beatings meant for my mother.
She's a Manhattan heiress now. Chanel suits, a daughter on her arm, and eyes full of disgust whenever they land on my hollowed-out frame.
"You're just like your disgusting father. A sewer rat. You've always reeked of something rotten."
What she doesn't know: on that rainy night fifteen years ago, I wrapped my arms around that man's legs and let him kick me half to death, so she could run.
What she also doesn't know: the tumor in my stomach has spread. I won't survive the winter.
I'd made my peace with dying alone, quietly, so I wouldn't disturb the perfect life she'd built. I swallowed the blood rising in my throat and started walking toward the dark.
Then came the dinner party, a few months later. Her daughter shoved me off a second-floor balcony.
I hit the ground at her feet like a broken doll. Dark red blood flooded across her white heels.
I watched the color drain from her face. With the last breath I had, I apologized.
"Don't be scared. This piece of garbage won't dirty your eyes anymore."

At my engagement dinner, my fiancé asked me to sign the prenup that killed me once before.

Last time, Adrian smiled, kissed my hand, and promised I would never be alone again. Three weeks later, debt collectors came for money I had never borrowed, black veins crawled under my skin, and his dying mother walked out of hospice in pearls.

This time, I turned to the second page first.

My name was already printed there.

Beside it was a date that had not happened yet.

Under it was another bride’s name.

A woman declared dead twenty-three years ago.

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

Foxes are born to bless their mates, unlocking their bloodline and putting them on the throne of the Beast King.

In my last life, the Golden Lion prince Rein picked me, and my sister Lilith got stuck marrying Austin, the black dragon everyone steered clear of.

Then Austin's bloodline woke up and he took the throne, and Lilith rode his coattails straight into a crown.

I threw everything I had into blessing Rein and it never worked. He blamed me for every failure, dug my core out with his own hands, and tossed me into a cell like trash, leaving me there to rot.

Now I'm back, and at the mating ceremony, Rein walks right past me and takes Lilith's hand instead.

That's when I know. He's been reborn too.

But he has no idea. It was never my fault the blessing failed. He was never going to hold power, no matter who blessed him. That throne was never his to take.

My twin sister and I were born on the same day. She got the love. I got the debt.
Some doctor told my parents I stole Colette's immune system in the womb, and after that, the rule was simple: every time she got sick, I had to hurt worse. Fever meant the basement. Below freezing, no blanket, no socks, door padlocked from the outside.
I was seventeen and I weighed under seventy pounds. My teeth were coming loose. My hair was falling out.
Then, on the coldest night of the year, something moved behind the cracked mirror in the basement. A man in a tailcoat. He said he could give me anything, as long as I could pay.
All I wanted was a blanket and a piece of bread.
He asked what I had left to trade.
I didn't have anything. So I offered him my last years.

I inherited my mother’s breathtaking beauty, while my sister was cursed with our father’s plain, vulgar looks.
Consumed by jealousy, she married early and settled into a mundane life, while I was kept entirely imprisoned by our mother—forbidden to date, forbidden to marry.
Whenever I brought a boyfriend home, my mother would take him into that mysterious locked bathroom.
Every single man who walked out of there would have glazed eyes and a flushed look of utter ecstasy. Then, without fail, they would coldly abandon me. Even the man who swore to marry me completely succumbed—to the point where he was having sex with my mother in the garden in broad daylight!
What’s even more bizarre is that whenever any female relative stepped into that bathroom, they came out looking at me with vicious hatred, joining forces to spit on me.
Betrayed by everyone and pushed to the brink, I decided to flee this demonic house in the dead of night.
But the moment I peeked through the crack of the door and finally caught a glimpse inside that bathroom, the blood in my veins turned to ice.
Only then did I horrifyingly realize the true reason my mother was willing to destroy my entire life...

I never imagined that the most humiliating secret of my life would be laid bare in a flimsy tent in the middle of nowhere.

Even less did I imagine that the person witnessing my unraveling would be Sebastian. He’s the CEO of a top-tier conglomerate, my direct boss, and, most damningly, my ex’s stepfather.

A freak accident left us stranded in the jungle late at night. Inside that cramped, suffocating tent, the air felt scorching, almost unbearable. Worst of all, in my rush to leave, I’d forgotten to bring the medication that suppresses my “craving disorder.”

When that sickening desire surged through me like a tidal wave, when his body heat pressed against my back through his shirt, I could only bite my lip hard, teetering on the edge of shame and instinct.

“Mr. Blackwood, please… stay away from me.”

In my past life, I was shoved into oncoming traffic by my husband's widowed cousin, Isabella.
"Why do you get the perfect husband and the Romano fortune? Go to hell!"
I died, and my unborn child died with me. Up until my last breath, I thought she killed me out of purely manic, bitter jealousy.
When I opened my eyes, I was back at that exact crosswalk, rewound to the second she was about to push me.
Only this time, I stepped aside.
And I finally learned the truth. She wasn't just an envious widow—she was my husband's secret lover. And the one who paid the million-dollar bounty for my murder to steal my mafia empire was the "flawless" man sleeping in my bed.

A horrific car crash left me paralyzed.
The doctors said I'd never walk again. With no family left, my Aunt Martha and Uncle Thomas took me to their isolated farmhouse.
They cared for me, promising their treatments would help me walk again. After everything I'd been through, I thought I'd finally found safety.
Until today, when the feeling in my legs suddenly came back—but something told me not to tell them.

I was dragged to the stand of the MRI Memory Court by my own flesh and blood.

Their demand? To forcibly extract my kidney to keep their uremic adopted daughter alive.

A guilty verdict meant losing not just my bodily autonomy, but my freedom for the rest of my life.

Bathed in the global spotlight, my parents performed as tragic heroes, while their adopted saint cried a river of deceit.

They thought they had cornered the perfect victim, waiting for the world to send me to the slaughter.

But the moment the memory holograms ignited and reality bled through, the hunters instantly became the hunted.

I am Nerissa Calvino, the illegitimate daughter of the Vespucci mafia family—a stain on their pristine name.
All I ever wanted was a quiet life, spent in the arms of Carmine, a simple doctor. But my half-sister, Renata, fell terminally ill and was declared infertile. To preserve the alliance between the Vespucci and Arcuri families, a filthy transaction was struck: I was to be the surrogate for Renata’s fiancé, Silvano, bearing the heir that would bind their syndicates together.
They threatened Carmine’s life. To save him, I had to spit venom, shredding our love to pieces with my own hands.
In public, Silvano was the perfect, doting fiancé to my sister. But in the dark, he locked me away, claiming my body with ruthless gravity.
When news of my pregnancy broke, the entire estate rejoiced. Only I remained trapped in a living nightmare.
Torn between a past I couldn’t return to and a forbidden entanglement I couldn't escape, I wondered: would I ever reclaim my own life?

On the third day after my death, Massimo got the call.
His arm was around another woman. He didn't even flinch.
"Dead is dead," he said. "Burn her, then call me."
He came to the crematorium two hours late. He took my ashes, dropped them on the floor, and stepped on them like they were dirt.
"Tell Tess," he said, "if she's still alive, she can crawl back and beg. If she's really dead, I'll dig her up and flog the corpse myself."
I was right there, screaming without a voice.
Later, he pulled out his phone and called my number. It went straight to voicemail.
"Tess Reinhardt," he said, his jaw tight. "If you don't pick up, you're dead to me."
He still didn't know.
I was already dead.
And he was the only one who would never believe it.

When my Alpha told me a rogue faction was going to destroy our Pack, I volunteered as a hostage to keep him safe.
Three years in a cage. Branded with silver. Broken like a feral. Every rogue in that compound had me. The only thing that kept me alive was a toxic root that numbed the pain — and was slowly killing me from the inside.
Then my Alpha showed up and told me the truth.
There was never any threat. He'd staged the whole thing — hired the rogues, built the compound. Because I'd embarrassed his precious Cora in front of the Pack, and he needed me to "learn my place."
Now he wanted me back. Wanted to make me his Luna again.
But I wasn't the same woman who walked into that cage. And the truth about what happened to me there?
He didn't believe a word of it.
Not until I was already dead.

"911, what's your emergency?"
"I'm... handcuffed to a towel rack." Humiliation nearly swallowed me whole.
Fifteen minutes later, LAFD kicked down my door—and the man standing in the wreckage was the last person on earth I wanted to see me like this.
Leon Crawford. My ex. The one I broke up with three years ago.
He didn't cut me loose. He circled my apartment like a predator, his jaw tightening with every wine glass, every stray jacket he found.
"Where's the guy who did this to you?" he growled.
There was no guy. But how do I explain the lie I told him three years ago—that I'd fallen for someone else?

There's a heavy iron door at the end of the hall. Anyone who steps inside returns with eyes full of hatred. That’s all it took for the basement to turn my gentle fiancé into a predator and my loyal best friend into an enemy. Now, I'm trapped with a mother who claims the violence is all in my head. I have to open that door.

He broke down the morgue door, his guttural scream echoing off the cold tiles as he yanked open drawer after drawer.

"Emily!"

Ethan's hands shook violently as he pulled it open. She lay inside, a white sheet draped over her face. With trembling fingers, he peeled back the fabric. Her face was paper-white, lips bloodless, her eyelashes casting faint shadows. So still.

This wasn't the Emily he knew. The Emily he knew could smile, could cry, could clumsily try to warm his frozen heart. But now, she was just a corpse. A corpse because of him.

"Cancer... stage four..." he whispered, drowning in a tidal wave of panic.

He remembered all those times she had clutched her stomach in agony, and he had mocked her. He remembered demanding she give her heart to his lover. He remembered her final silent words through the surgical glass: "I hate you."

"AHHH—!!" A raw scream tore from his throat. He slammed his fist into the metal drawer, blood blooming across his knuckles.

He collapsed beside her, pulling her stiff, freezing body into his arms. She was so light. Like holding air.

"Emily, I was wrong. I was so wrong," he choked out, crying for the first time in years. "Wake up. Hit me. Hate me. I'm begging you..."

But death is the most absolute silence of all. How far will a man go when he realizes he murdered his only salvation?

I loved Julian for ten years, carving every sweat-stained day into my love for him.
He once said I shined brighter than any gold medal.
Yet in five short minutes, he handed my dream, my glory, and my whole world to a scheming transfer girl.
Betrayed, discarded, and broken on the fencing strip, I lost my first love and everything I fought for.
Until the retired cold Olympic champion stepped out of the dark midnight shadows.
He offered me hellish training and a sharp blade of revenge.
I buried my soft heart, handed over my soul, and vowed to make every traitor pay.

Ninety-nine times.

I was sent to the punishment chamber ninety-nine times by my mafia don fiancé.

Each time, he watched through bulletproof glass with cold, detached eyes—watching me being deprived of sleep, injected with drugs, tortured until I was barely clinging to life.

"Elara, you're paying for what you did to the Mancuso family."

For the sake of sweet, innocent Yvette—his precious savior—he personally destroyed everything I had.

After the ninety-ninth time, the doctor handed me a critical condition notice. I stopped begging, signed the confession, and vanished completely with my broken body.

The result? When the truth finally came to light, the ruthless don went completely insane.

Ten years ago, my mate faked his death in the war and ran off with his childhood sweetheart.
No goodbye. No contact since.
All he left me were two things — a debt of six hundred and eighty thousand, and a notice declaring him lost, stamped four years later by people who'd never met him.
The bank took our den. I moved into a shared burrow-flat at the edge of the settlement.
Three jobs after hours. Sold blood. Scrubbed latrines. Tested tonics for the healers until my nose stopped working right.
Ten years to pay off the debt. A desk at the Missing and Fallen Registry Office, once the ceasefire finally came.
My first case file was a man the law had already declared dead.
He said he'd been young and reckless. Walked out. Never looked back.
Now his family's land was due a war reparations payout, and he needed his name restored to collect it.
I stared at the name on the form. Recognized it instantly.
Smiled.
"Insufficient documentation. Application denied."

Oscar winner Adrian Pierce announced his divorce at midnight.

Hours later, his ex-wife ended a ten-thousand-word farewell with one line for me:

Claire Sutton, you won.

Adrian is yours.

By breakfast, half the internet wanted to know why I'd destroyed their marriage.

I wanted to know, too.

After all, I'd been secretly married for eight years.

Why would I want her ex-husband?

In my first life, my fiancé helped his sister frame me for a fatal hit-and-run.

I went to prison, my mother died begging for my freedom, and the lawyer who tried to save me lost everything.

When I woke up on the afternoon of the crash, I didn't run from the police.

I made sure they arrested me first.

The day I presented as an omega, I caught my boyfriend cheating.
Then my first heat hit early.
With no suppressants left, I had only one person to ask for help: Adrian Holt—my infuriatingly perfect alpha roommate.
“Do you have a suppressant?”
Adrian glanced at my tear-streaked face.
“Actually,” he said slowly, “I’m out.”
Desperate, I made him an offer neither of us could take back.
“Then bite me. Just a temporary mark.”
What I didn’t know was that Adrian had plenty of suppressants.
And nothing about the way he wanted me was temporary.

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

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

I thought I was the Jones family's "legitimate wife."
Until the day I saw it with my own eyes, my husband, Carter, resting his hand on my stepsister Nora's bump belly, gentle like he was cradling the future.
Everyone told me to be "big-heated": when the baby was born, they'd put it under my name, make him call me Mom, because the family needed an "heir."
Even the private doctor they hired announced it in front of everyone—steady heartbeat, and from the ultrasound, it looked like a boy.
I didn't cry and didn't make a scene.
I just picked up the phone and told my lawyer to initiate the divestment.
Twenty-four hours later, Carter's cards were frozen, his projects got their loans yanked, and assets started getting seized—
That's when he finally understood: he hadn't betrayed a wife.
He'd betrayed the lifeline of the entire family.
But what I really wanted to know was—
When he dropped to his knees and begged me to come back, would I tell him— I had already picked out his grave?

I took the blame for my wife and went to jail, thinking I was protecting our family.

Five years later, when I was released from prison, my mansion was confiscated, my company fell into the hands of my younger brother, and the woman I loved with all my heart was nestled in my brother's arms, mocking my misfortune.

They had been having an affair for a long time, and even my imprisonment was a conspiracy meticulously planned by this despicable couple! What makes me even more furious is that my precious daughter was abandoned on the street like a stray dog, and subjected to beatings and bullying by their illegitimate son .

They thought that by draining my blood, they could forever condemn me to oblivion.

But they forgot that I was once an unparalleled genius in the business world.

When Catherine Meyers started a new school in New York all she wanted was to be invincible. She was okay with being in the background. She planned to finish high school with a good GPA and go to Harvard. She wanted to be a neurosurgeon.

But her hopes were shattered when a force from the past which she couldn't remember barged into her life again.
And this time he promised to ruin her.

Ace Hampton was the King of Riverside highschool and Catherine Meyers is the rose he vowed to remove her petals one after the other until she is gone.

Her father killed his father, how dare she act like she doesn't know him?

He remembers her but she couldn't remember him and he would make her pay.

★★★
WARNING: THIS BOOK CONTAINS SEXUAL SCENES AND BEHAVIORS THAT MIGHT SEEM WEIRD TO OTHER PEOPLE SO IF YOU ARE EASILY TRIGGERED PLEASE AVOID THIS BOOK.
BE WARNED THIS IS A DARK ROMANCE BOOK.

"Daddy... so cold... and it hurts..." When my precious daughter Mia whispered these words in her weak voice, my heart felt like it was being torn apart.
The life-saving medicine was just ten meters away, but that damned anti-magic barrier had become an insurmountable chasm between life and death.
What made me even more furious was that the vampire guarding the gate not only extorted my life savings, but also demanded I kneel like a dog and lick his boots before he would open the door.
He didn't know that if the door stayed closed, it wouldn't just be my daughter who died—his son and mother would perish too!

With one week left until the wedding, Henry Jones asked me to reschedule the date—for one simple reason:
“On our wedding day, I’m taking Ann to the hospital for her prenatal checkup.”
Ann is the widow of his brother Ethan. She’s also my half-sister. In that private room, they laughed at me for being “almost thirty and desperate to get married.”
Ann put on an innocent face. “If Rory is really in such a rush… I can reschedule my appointment.”
I wanted to break up, and Henry frowned as he lectured me:
“As her future sister-in-law, why do you have to fight her over this one day?”
I asked him, “Do you even remember what Friday is?”
He coaxed me softly: “One day earlier or later—what’s the difference?” I nodded and said “Fine,” thinking I could still swallow it.
Until I pressed my fingerprint to enter his office and overheard Ann questioning him about inheritance, and Henry answered under his breath, “It won’t come to that—I won’t let Rory get pregnant with my child.”

Five years of a marriage forced by family convenience end in the cruelest way possible: with a request for divorce on the same day they would celebrate their anniversary. Lilian, devastated by Ethan's rejection—the man she learned to love despite the circumstances—sees her life fall apart. In her darkest hour, when the pain seems unbearable, Lilian is saved by Daniel Spector, a longtime friend and silent confidant who has always loved her. At the hospital, news changes everything: Lilian is two months pregnant. But there is another woman, Joana Mercadante — rich, famous, and supposedly also expecting Ethan's child. With her heart broken and her soul on fire, Lilian decides to leave. She flees to France and, far from the eyes of the world, gives birth to her son and builds an empire. Five years later, she returns as a powerful woman, determined to face her demons... and she finds Ethan again. He never stopped looking for her, never forgot the love he destroyed with his own hands. Now he must fight not only for forgiveness, but for a second chance—with her and with the son he never knew. But will regret be enough to rebuild a love that was betrayed? Especially when Daniel, Ethan's new rival, is ready to build the life Lilian always dreamed of... and is already the father in her son's heart?

When I caught my boyfriend cheating with my stepsister, I was heartbroken and furious. After giving them both a well-deserved beating, I hit a bar and met a drop-dead gorgeous stranger.
Drunk and mesmerized by his looks, I ignored the red flags. His glowing eyes. That sweet, intoxicating scent only I could smell.
One scorching night later... he tried to pay me like some escort.
"You're the worst I've ever had," I lied with a sneer, throwing my own cash in his face before he did. "Practice more before charging."
Then I ran like hell. Behind me, his furious roar echoed.
But karma's a bitch. That stranger? My company's new CEO.
Oh, and he's a werewolf Alpha.
I planned to lay low and avoid him. Then two pink lines changed everything—I'm pregnant!
My Alpha Boss slammed down a marriage contract: "Sign it. Move in with me."
Before moving in, I taunted: "Your skills were worth $150, tops."
But right now, he growled against my ear: "How about this, my insatiable mate?"
Me, scrambling toward the edge of the bed: "Time out! I need... a few days off!"
He smirked, grabbing my ankle and dragging me back down the mattress: "Not happening. Not until you're 100% satisfied with my performance between the sheets."
From one-night disaster to Alpha's baby mama—never saw this coming. But my possessive Alpha boss is hell-bent on proving he's worth way more than $150 a night... and he's got a lifetime to do it.

Accidentally murdered the bride?
Check.
Forced to marry the cursed Alpha who's lost six wives?
Check.
Now wearing her dress, dragged to his bed, while the pack waits outside for proof he's fucked me raw?
Double check.
Remi was just trying to catch her cheating boyfriend in the act. Instead, she tripped, ripped lace, and cracked a skull.
Now Alpha Nero Blackwater owns her. "Bride for bride," he growls. "You owe me a wedding… and a womb." The curse kills his mates before dawn. Unless he plants an heir fast. But something's wrong.
What if there was never a curse at all?
One night to survive. One claiming to break everything. One Alpha who'll fuck her senseless… even if it's the last thing she feels.


"Congratulations, Alpha Nero," she said cheerfully. "Seems the Moon Goddess has chosen your seventh bride."
I choked. "SEVENTH?!"
"The other six are dead," he said flatly.
"And I'm number seven?"
"Correct."
"IS THIS A MARRIAGE OR A SURVIVAL GAME?!"

He left her on the streets. His brother-in-law picked her up… and made her his wife.
On the day her ex, Mark, married the wealthy socialite Bella, Elena was thrown out with nothing but the clothes on her back—humiliated, broken, and utterly alone.
Until Eric Thompson appeared.
Bella’s older brother. Mark’s powerful brother-in-law. And the most feared Alpha in the city.
He offered her a hand when no one else would. Then, he offered her a deal:
A marriage in name only. A shield against her past. A chance to rebuild.
Elena accepted, expecting a cold arrangement between strangers. But behind closed doors, Eric’s carefully guarded control unraveled—and so did hers. Their chemistry was explosive, their nights intense, and the lines between business and pleasure blurred beyond recognition.
He was the one man she could never have… and the only one she couldn’t resist.
But when Mark realizes what he truly lost, and Bella discovers the secret behind her brother’s bride, Elena must decide:
Is this just a contract?
Or is this the love she was always meant to fight for?

Camille Laurent was stolen at birth. Swapped by a greedy nanny, abandoned without a second thought, and erased from her rightful place in one of the most powerful families in the country.
While the real heiress struggled to survive, the nanny’s daughter, Talia, was raised in luxury as the beloved jewel of the Laurent family, pampered by Camille’s parents, adored by her three brothers, and even promised to the prestigious Matteo Devereux through a childhood engagement arranged by their grandparents.
Then the truth came out.
Six months ago, Camille was finally brought back to the Laurent family. To protect the family reputation and prove their devotion to their bloodline, the Laurent patriarch transferred 35% of his personal shares into Camille’s name overnight, instantly making her one of the wealthiest heiresses in the country.
It brought anxiety to all the Laurent family. But what they don’t know…is that Camille never needed them.
Behind her elegant smile lies a woman filled with secrets powerful enough to shake the whole family. She's a miraculous healer capable of curing the incurable poisons.
Yet despite everything, her family still chooses Talia.
Every accusation against Talia is forgiven. Every scheme against Camille is brushed aside. Even Matteo, the man who was supposed to be Camille’s fiancé—cannot let go of the woman he always believed belonged by his side.
But while the Laurent family underestimates Camille, another man begins to see exactly who she is.
Dante Moretti.
The ruthless heir of an old-money dynasty. A billionaire CEO worshipped by the public…and the merciless king of a criminal empire hidden beneath the city’s glittering surface. When Dante is poisoned by a rival syndicate with a deadly toxin no doctor can cure, he offers a fortune for anyone who can save him.
Only Camille can. Their deal is simple: she becomes his personal physician, and he gives her anything she wants.