10000 Book(s) Related to my daughter is the final boss novel

I thought escaping my yandere ex-girlfriend was the hardest thing I’d ever do.
Then, the apocalypse began.
For six grueling months, I slaved away in a survivor shelter, doing everything to survive.
But gratitude doesn’t exist in the wasteland.
To secure rations, the shelter leaders decided to betray me, trading me away like cattle to a rival superpower base.
As I was dragged out, leaving my old shelter to its inevitable doom, I braced myself for the worst at the new base.
But when I was brought before their ruthless, all-powerful leader, the blood in my veins ran cold.
Sitting on the throne was the very woman who used to drug me, cage me, and possess me.
My psycho ex.
And she’s been looking for me.

My boyfriend was pretending to be poor.
I figured it out not long after we started dating. He would throw away body wash bottles the second the pump stopped working, and he dumped out the gray water I’d been saving to flush the toilet. When I caught him, he gave me this perfectly innocent look. "Aren't you just supposed to pour dirty water down the drain?"
We’d pass a street food cart selling those cheap processed sausages—three bucks for one, five for two. He’d squeeze my hand and say, "Look, babe, we're saving a whole dollar." He played the part of the thrifty boyfriend flawlessly.
I never called him out on it. Mostly because I was sitting on a secret of my own—one I had no intention of sharing.
That was, until I woke up in the middle of the night and saw him texting his buddy in the dark.
His friend had sent: Girls like her are just for fun. Let me test her out for you. I flash a little cash, and she'll come crawling.
He stared at the screen, hesitating for what felt like forever. Finally, he typed a single word: Yeah.
I just closed my eyes and went back to sleep.
The very next day, his rich little buddy strolled into the coffee shop where I worked. He slid a sleek bank card across the counter. "There’s thirty grand on this," he said. "Consider yourself bought."
Rich people always love testing the moral fiber of the poor.
But who made the rule that they're the only ones allowed to give the test?

For three years, Caleb Vance and I were the two most mismatched people at Hometown Beans.
We fought every single day, couldn't stand the sight of each other — even Frank, our boss, just assumed it was a matter of time before we tore the place apart.
But I never expected that after one of our fights, an accident would cost me my memory.
And I definitely never expected to wake up to find the man I hated most in the world, his eyes red, telling the doctor:
"I'm her boyfriend. We've been together for three years."
Except I remember perfectly well that we were never together.
So when I decided to fake amnesia, I had no idea I was about to uncover a secret that would upend three years of bad blood between us.
And it all started the day Frank announced he'd be handing Hometown Beans over to one of us.

To piss off my ex-husband, I ordered a companion android from his company—one with his exact face. I've been breaking it in every night for a month.
Then Genesis Bionics customer service sent me an email:
[Dear Ms. Rachel Knight, your custom order has not yet shipped. Please be patient.]
I looked up at the android buttering toast in my kitchen, my mind going completely blank.
Then who the hell is in my house?

In my previous life, the apocalypse struck. I entrusted my last hope of survival to my best friend of twenty years, but the moment the zombies swarmed, he unhesitatingly pushed me into the horde to be his shield. My girlfriend of three years, standing high above, watched coldly, her face filled with relief at shedding a burden.

In the excruciating pain of being bitten to death, I was reborn 72 hours before the apocalypse.

Looking at the messages from that despicable couple on my phone, I calmly blocked and deleted them, then cashed out all my assets, hoarding three million US dollars worth of top-tier weaponry and massive amounts of supplies. The apocalypse

arrived as expected. When my scheming girlfriend and betrayed brother were chased like dogs by zombies, kneeling before my fortress, frantically begging for mercy,

I sat atop a mountain of supplies, holding an infinitely replicating spatial ring, a gun pressed against his kneecap, and sneered: "Want to live? Never in this lifetime."

In this life, I will not be a saint; I will be the sole king of this post-apocalyptic wasteland.

My husband and parents wanted me dead. All because my sister was "dying."

They shoved a divorce agreement and an experimental surgery consent form at me.

I was supposed to be her donor.

But they didn't know I was the one actually dying.

Three days ago, they told me I had terminal bone cancer.

One month to live.

So when they threatened me into some back-alley surgery, I smiled.

I was already dying anyway.

My boyfriend was a mafia heir. One word from him could open those gates.
But I stood outside in the rain while he celebrated another woman's birthday. My calls went unanswered. Inside, four plates circled the cake. None was mine.
Upstairs, she'd taken my room too.
“You don't mind helping her out,” he told me.
He hadn't asked.
That night, I reopened the job offer I'd turned down to stay with him. This time, I hit Reply.

"Arthur, please! Send someone to Black Forest—Noah's been taken by rogue shifters! They'll kill him!" I hit the marble floor hard, blood trickling from my forehead.

My mate, the most feared enforcer in this territory, couldn't be bothered. He was too busy looking for his lover's precious pet.

"Eve, you're sick—lying about our kid to get attention?" He gestured dismissively. "Throw her in the cells until she stops this bullshit."

He locked me up all night.

Next morning, he let me out, figuring I'd gotten the message.

He didn't know that thirty minutes ago, the gate guards brought a blood-soaked box.

Our son's head was inside.

On the live gala broadcast, everyone called Vanessa Hart “Mrs. Caldwell.” And the real Mrs. Caldwell — me — sat at home, watching him let it all happen.
I have loved Ethan for more than a decade, only to get a marriage built on a deal. He married me to save my family. He kept me around because I was still useful. What he never realized was that I had a heart, and it could break beyond repair.
When I finally turned and walked away, he discovered the woman who had always waited for him was gone.
Now he drowns in regret. But will I ever go back to him?

The day my sister and I came back to life, we made one call: swap fiancés.

Last time, Dad burned every favor he had to lock down two marriage deals for the family. One with a mafia family that runs the West Coast. The other with a corporate CEO.

My sister married the mafia leader. She was too gentle, too kind for a world that ran on blood and backstabbing. The man had a childhood friend who played soft and helpless but was vicious as hell underneath. That woman tormented my sister for decades before finally arranging an "accident" that killed her.

And me? I got the polished CEO.

Sounds good, right? Except we tortured each other from day one. He was all rules and manners, always talking like he was giving a speech. Me? I blow up fast and if I can throw a punch, I will. Every day was the same standoff. He'd pull back, I'd push forward, and nobody gave an inch.

We spent our whole lives being polite and miserable.

Then one day, my sister and I woke up on the afternoon they announced the engagements.

When my year-end bonus came in, I bought a pair of engraved matching bracelets for the man I'd been with for eight years and had them shipped to his office.
The tracking said delivered. He waited a full day before sending me a voice message, asking if I'd bought him a gift.
I said no, and asked if someone had sent him something. He brushed it off. Said he'd ask around.
When I pushed, he said it was a pair of running shoes from a coworker, and he'd already sent them back.
That night he kept his phone on him. He even took it to bed.
Once he was asleep, I unlocked it with his finger.
His old Messenger chats had all been cleared. I searched one word: gift.
The messages came right up. The other person was Mia Novak. He called her "baby."
I tapped her profile picture. It was a wedding photo.
The groom was Nathan Boyd, the man I'd been with for eight years.

At the school's field day, my six-year-old son pointed straight at me and shouted for everyone to hear, "I'd rather be alone than with her! She's the worst mom in the world!"
He hated that I couldn't afford expensive toys, hated that we lived in a tiny apartment, hated that I was just a useless woman.
Then he turned and ran straight into the arms of the woman who destroyed my family, calling her name in the sweetest voice, just because she handed him an ice cream.
My ex-husband leaned against his luxury car, sneering, "Nora, if you admit you were wrong, I'll let you come back. We can get married again."
Looking at their smug faces, I finally let go of the hands I'd been gripping tightly for four years.
"All right," I said, smiling as I signed away custody, "Since you two love each other so much, I hope you and your perfect little family enjoy every minute together."
They thought I was playing hard to get, but they had no idea—this time, I really meant it.

In my past life, simply to buy a smile from his mistress, Lilianna, Valerius insisted on shutting down the territory's ultraviolet defense grid on the night of a meteor shower.

 

I fought him tooth and nail. In return, he shattered my legs and threw me into the dark like a bag of trash.

 

The horde swarmed in. It took three agonizing hours of being eaten alive by a dozen ghouls before I finally bled out.

 

When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in front of the control room's master lever.

 

If fate brought me back, it wasn't to play the pathetic saint again. This time, I'm going to step aside and quietly admire the symphony of death they compose for themselves.

I awaited my seven-year-old son's birthday, yearning for my husband’s return, only to stumble upon him celebrating at a bar, tenderly kissing his childhood sweetheart.
I initially believed this to be yet another instance of his favoritism, until I overheard a devastating conversation and realized the truth: the precious son I had nurtured for seven years was not mine, but a product of his union with his childhood friend.
The marriage I had fought so hard to preserve was, from the very beginning, a deceitful scheme orchestrated against me.

My birthday was never truly mine.

Everyone was busy making sure she was comfortable, happy, and protected.
When she deliberately handed me chamomile tea—knowing I was allergic—they told me not to hurt my sister’s good intentions and forced me to drink it.

My brother accused me of being jealous and locked me in the basement.

They all forgot about me to celebrate her birthday, even my fiancé.

Lying there, I realized something worse than pain—I was replaceable.

That was the day I understood the truth about my family.
I was dying on “my” birthday, and no one chose me.

Someone posted a positive pregnancy stick next to my student ID on the school's anonymous forum.
By first period, eight hundred people thought I was the campus slut. By lunch, the lacrosse captain stood up in the cafeteria and told everyone he was the father. By Friday, my full-ride scholarship was frozen and the dean told me to "keep a low profile."
I've never even kissed anyone.
Margaux Aldridge — Ashford Academy's golden girl, my so-called friend — showed up with tissues and a shoulder to cry on. She even talked to her daddy on the board about getting me a "quiet transfer" so I wouldn't have to suffer a public hearing.
So generous. So kind.
She even handed me a withdrawal form. My name already filled in. Just needed a signature.
She really thought I'd sign it.

The ultrasound photo caught fire slowly, curling at the edges before the flame swallowed it whole.
I watched it burn in front of my mother's grave.
Eight weeks. That was how far along I had been.
Three days ago, on the anniversary of her death, I came here to talk to her. To tell her she was going to be a grandmother.
Instead, I found my husband fucking his ex-girlfriend against the oak tree twenty feet from her headstone.
I lost the baby that night.

My cousin stole thirty thousand dollars from our dying grandmother.
Not for an emergency. Not for bills.
For liposuction.
Then she told everyone I did it. Said I was jealous of her figure — that I'd drained Grandma's cardiac surgery fund because I wanted to look different. And the terrible part is, everyone believed her. My boyfriend. My uncle and aunt. Every single person who'd watched me grow up in that house — eating their leftovers standing at the kitchen counter, wearing my aunt's old coat with the broken zipper through every winter — turned around and decided I was the thief.
I couldn't prove otherwise. I couldn't get anyone to listen.
Last time this happened, I didn't survive it.
Then I opened my eyes. I was back in the hospital corridor. My aunt's hand raised, ready to swing.

In my past life, I personally dug up two alien meteorites, handing the blue one that granted "Frost Mastery" to my childhood friend, Mike. He repaid me by sealing me inside an ice wall, cursing me to "die like a piece of trash" in the minus 70-degree blizzard.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the initial blast site.
This time, I didn't even spare him a glance; I stuffed both meteorites into my pocket.
I transformed a missile silo into a doomsday bunker, brought my parents inside, and stockpiled ten years' worth of supplies.
When Mike arrived with a gang of thugs to smash my door down, I stood in the warm command center, watching half his face rot with frostbite on the monitor.
I didn't open the door.
This time, I am sending back the despair of my past life tenfold.

"I want to go back to London."
"No," he says simply, his voice low and commanding. "You're not going anywhere."
"Why not?"
"Because, unlike that worthless nephew of mine, I actually care about you."
Lyla Rose thought she had it all—love, power, a secure future. But a single medical report changes everything: she's infertile, and her ruthless husband, Vincent Ricci, discards her without hesitation.
He replaces her with another woman and locks Lyla away, believing he's done with her. But Carter Ricci, Vincent's cold and calculating uncle, rescues her. He offers protection, passion, and promises he's nothing like the man who destroyed her.
Yet Carter's care is suffocating. Locked doors, watching eyes, and a hunger that feels more like possession than love. When the truth about her infertility surfaces, Lyla realizes she may have traded one prison for another.
Caught between the husband who shattered her and the man who claimed her, Lyla must decide: can she ever be free when love itself has become a cage?

All nobles mocked me for rejecting the talented common mage and picking a brutal gladiator with no magic as my escort. They called him a filthy hound unworthy of serving an Oberlin lady. But only I remember—this scarred man died twice for me in my past life. Reborn before my family’s ruin, I swear bloody vengeance on Cedric and Liliana, who poisoned my father and stripped my skin. I endure searing magic backlash, fight bloody death matches, and burn all traitors alive. The shadow they sneer at will become the indestructible shield of my reign.

On the day I was supposed to get married....
I watched my fiancé, Rafael, kissing another woman on his office.
Not a stranger.
My best friend.
Right then, I knew I’d only ever been the safe option, not the one he really wanted.
I left the dress, the ring, and my family’s reputation to burn in every group chat and gossip thread.
All I took with me was a small suitcase, a silent phone, and one secret I hadn’t fully understood yet: there was a baby growing inside me.
Rafael’s baby.
Six years later, I’d built a new life in Los Angeles. By day, I designed buildings for an architecture firm, drawing sharp lines to hold back the cracks I didn’t show anyone. By night, I painted until color stained my fingers and the floor.
In my calm house by the sea, a little girl with hazel eyes called me “Mom” and sprinted between piles of rolled-up blueprints.
In this new version of my life, there was Luca.
The man who always showed up with coffee, mocked my playlist, and told me, “With me, you don’t have to act tough.”
I thought I’d finally found calm.
Until that gala night.
The voice I used to almost promise forever stopped right behind me. “Long time no see, Maya.”
When Rafael’s eyes landed on my daughter’s matching hazel gaze, the air in the room grew heavy.
He wanted answers.
I wanted the nearest exit.
And before the night was over, one sentence from him tore through everything I’d carefully rebuilt:
“You need to meet my brother. His name’s Luca.”
My lungs forgot how to work.
I stared at the man I’d been calling my boyfriend… and wondered if my life had just fallen apart all over again....

I am the wife of Don Nikolai. For years, I endured his violence and the constant humiliation from his mistress, Sofia.
On a stormy night, I saved a boy named Silvio — the sole survivor of a massacre ordered by Nikolai — and raised him as my adopted son. I never imagined he would become my shield. When Nikolai struck me, Silvio stepped forward and shouted, “You will not hit her!” When Sofia provoked me, he stood up for me every time.
While risking his life to hone his skills, Silvio secretly gathered evidence of Nikolai’s crimes. When the Don sensed betrayal, he sent Silvio on a mission meant to kill him — then turned his brutality on me.
As I lay dying, Silvio returned, bloodied and broken, and threw a punch at Nikolai.
“I came back,” he roared, “to kill you!”
After coming of age, he confessed:
“I was never truly your son. I want to marry you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She has lived hundreds of lives and each one ended horribly.
He, once her companion, cannot forget her beyond time.
She, kidnapped into a world unknown to her, tries everything to get back home. But what are these dreams?

[…] Stones are thrown at dirty mutts… Rats are burned… […]

Immerse yourself in the world of Athaerion.

On the birthday I shared with my twin sister, my family threw her a party—and called my absence a tantrum.
None of them knew I was lying in the cellar beneath their feet.
With broken fingers, I'd sent my husband the one word he swore would bring him running from anywhere: Lighthouse. He called it a guilt trip and told me to be at the party by seven.
So they toasted my sister. They tossed my place card in the trash. They shoved my gift onto a closet shelf without opening it.
By the time they finally lifted the lid, it was far too late.

Trigger Warning: 18+, rape, abuse, Mature and sexual content, slavery, violence.

"Don't get the ideas that you are ever going to receive anything other than hate from me, Athena. I don't need a mate. I don't need a weak pathetic bond like this to survive," He growled as he grabbed a fistful of my hair and harshly threw me on the bed.

I was naked and helpless in front of his menacing eyes.

"Sebastian, please don't do this..."

"I have purchased you from that auction only because you'll come in use to tame my wolf, and you are nothing but a good that I will use every day and night for my pleasure. And your life in hell starts from today."

"Please don't..." I begged but none of my words affected him.

I backed away till my body hit against the headboard but he dragged me by my ankles and shredded the last piece of fabric, my panties, and threw it away.


After being sold by my parents to auctioneers because of being a wolf-less she-wolf, When fate landed me in my mate's arms from the auction, for once I thought I was finally going to find happiness...someone who'd love me. But it was another hell I landed into.

Sebastian Valdez-- was known as the cursed Alpha who killed his own father. Everyone feared him, his barbaric deeds had no bounds, and he did not have a heart. He only had one rule in his life--Thrive in others' pain. But what he did to me was even worse.

He snatched my innocence, abused me, raped me every night, hurt me beyond extreme, and left me with only the want to escape from his cage but that was until I got to know what his curse was......

♡ I could see the pain flicker in his eyes when he finally said: "I don't think I can be friends with you anymore, Amari." ♡

Amari Vasilios, the CEO of the fast growing Advertising Company in California, got her heart broken by her best friend five years ago. She never thought that out of all the people her best friend, Zane Shaw, would be the one who would break her heart first... only because of a girl he had known for FOUR MONTHS.

She was livid and she still is. She ignored and tried to avoid him as much as possible and for the past five years it worked.

But now.

Now she's staring at the invitation letter in her hand. It was a wedding invitation. From her brother and his fiancee.

She had to go home. She had to go back to New York and attend the wedding.

Attending the wedding means seeing him again.

Attending the wedding means seeing the person she had successfully avoid for five years.

Is love something that fades away? I used to think not. But here I am, Wendy Knight, stuck in a loveless marriage with a husband who has rekindled an old flame, and a mother-in-law who seems to live to make me miserable. Just when I thought things couldn't get worse, I got diagnosed with liver cancer...
Little did I know, a childhood friend had been quietly watching over me all these years. He's drop-dead gorgeous, incredibly wealthy, and powerful, and he showers me with tender, unwavering care. As for my cheating ex-husband? Let him regret and stay out of my life!

After five years of a secret marriage, her husband never showed any affection in public. Sophia Johnson had always chalked it up to his personality—until he took their twin sons and his first love out for a candlelit dinner, earning rave reviews online as the "most stunning family." That’s when her heart finally shattered completely.
Hearing her own sons call the woman "Auntie" repeatedly, Sophia came to her senses. A husband who didn’t love her, sons who were estranged from her—she didn’t want any of it. From that moment on, she would only love herself.
After the divorce, she returned to her hometown village to pick up her old profession: growing medicinal herbs, treating rare illnesses, and developing skincare miracles. Luxury cars often arrived late at night in the remote village, drawn by her skills.
When word got out that she was looking for a father for her daughter, elite scientists, financial tycoons, A-list idols, award-winning actors... All kinds of tycoons emerged, volunteering themselves, hoping to catch her eye.
Later, her ex-husband knelt on a bed of durians, his face filled with remorse. "Soph, I love you. Will we remarry?"
She scoffed. "William Smith, isn’t the forbidden fruit sweet enough?"
Her twin sons knelt on computer keyboards side by side. "Mommy, we only want you!"
Sophia waved them off. "No, I can’t afford you."

"Do you hate me?" He asked, nibbling my ear with his teeth. I couldn't form words. I felt... I didn't know what I was feeling. A minute ago, I was sure I hated him but now that he's so close, so close that I could feel him breathing on my skin, I wasn't sure.

"Do you hate me?" He asked again, his voice a low growl in my ear.
"I...I..." I tried to form words but his lips left my ear and trailed kisses down my neck.
“I need words,” he whispered. “Tell me you hate me.”
My fingers tightened on his shirt as he continued.
“Say you hate me, and I’ll stop right now and walk away.”
What? There was a pause, I still hated him but I don't want him to stop..
“Don’t…and I won’t be responsible for what I do next.”

Lena Hartwell is a girl who has been bullied all her life for being plus size. After the sudden death of her father, her family falls deep into debt, leaving her with no choice but to accept the highest paying tutoring job she can find to support her Mom. The job turns out to be tutoring one of her bullies, the school’s hottest quarterback, Jace Dawson and despite hating him, she takes it the job because her family is at risk of losing everything they have left.

What happens when the hatred they have for each other slowly turns into something darker, when forced proximity turns every argument into temptation?
He is everything she is taught to fear.
She is the weakness he was taught to crush.
And when one forbidden moment shatters the boundary between hate and desire, will Lena be able to walk away from the boy who might ruin her life?

Denise Montgomery is drugged by her father and stepmother and sent to a client's bed—only to wake up next to Jason Harrington, the powerful CEO of the Harrington Group. Believing he's just a hired escort, she leaves behind a handwritten IOU for two hundred dollars as payment and walks away without a second thought.

But Jason isn't just any man—he's her sister's fiancé.

To get revenge on her manipulative family, Denise begins to seduce Jason, playing a dangerous game of temptation. What starts as calculated payback soon turns into a fiery entanglement neither of them can escape. And when Denise tries to leave, Jason makes it clear: she lit the fire, and now she has to face the heat.

I'm Elowë Moran, and I thought Saint-Lumière would be my fresh start—a beautiful European city, a top nursing program, and a chance to build something real with my best friend Shera and boyfriend Oli.

Then I went hiking in the wrong forest.

What I saw that night should have been impossible. Wolves that walked like men. Eyes that glowed red in the darkness. A man who snapped necks with his bare hands and set bodies on fire like it was routine.

I ran. I survived. And then I woke up in a sex club wearing nothing but scraps of lace, with no memory of how I got there.

That's when I met Cassian Asgard.

He's a vampire. A real one—not the kind from movies, but something far older and infinitely more dangerous. He moves through shadows like they're doorways. He heals with a touch. And when he kissed me in that club, my heart should have stopped from fear.

Instead, his heart beat. Once. Just once.

He says it means something. That I'm his. That women he's kissed don't get to date other men.

But I have a boyfriend. I have a life. I have a mother back home who needs me to finish this degree and come back whole.

My uncle says to forget what I saw. To go back to normal life and pretend none of this is real.

But Cassian won't let me forget.

And the worst part? Some traitorous corner of my heart doesn't want him to.

Because the way Cassian Asgard looks at me isn't just possessiveness.

It's something far more consuming.

“This isn’t right…” I whispered.
But my stepbrothers grabbed me anyway and ran their warm hands all over my body. “You belong to us, you are our pet, our sub and it will remain like this forever.”
—---------------------------------------------
My mother and I have been running for the past three years– running from a vampire who is obsessed with owning me. He catches up to us eventually and we’re about to start running again when my mother announces her marriage to the most powerful man in the pack– Lycan Viktor Ravenwood.
But the problem is that he has hybrid triplet sons– vampire & werewolf breeds– who are as ruthless as monsters and I am forced to move in with them.
When Vladimir's eyes and that of his triplet brothers lock onto mine, I feel a forbidden flame ignite within me, burning away reason and morality and it forces us into a dark, toxic and forbidden relationship.
But our twisted desire is just the beginning, and before I know it, I'm already trapped between my stepbrothers' dark passion and the vampire cult hunting me.
There’s also a curse that haunts my stepbrothers which might be my only salvation— or my ultimate destruction…

Ivy went home only to find the man she devoted her whole life to cheating with her elder sister. It was supposed to be their wedding day and he didn't show up,breaking his promise after making her give up on her career. Heartbroken, she found solace in the bar and she met someone in her drunken state.
The next morning, she had no way to return home because she was now homeless. She pleaded with the one who helped her to take her in, but he refused. Then it struck her.
"I heard you are looking for a wife over the phone. Let's get married, she proposed.
A few weeks later, the media were surprise to see a once famous actress with a renowned billionaire, leading to interviews. Mr. Zack Anderson, usually dismissive of reporters, seemed different that day.
"Mr. Zack Anderson, did the once famous actress seduce you for personal gain?"
"Who has the right to seduce me other than my wife?" he replied, and someone in his living room stood up.
"She married my uncle."

Kyra caressed her growing belly—she was finally pregnant with her best friend Nathan's child after three years of marriage. But when she returned home with the happy news, her Alpha husband was on his knees, begging her to end their bond.
"Sophia is back," Nathan’s voice raw with guilt. "My fated mate."
Heartbroken, Kyra agreed to dissolve their union, hiding her pregnancy to avoid burdening him. Yet when she tried to leave, Nathan refused to let go. "Can't we at least stay friends?"
She wrenched her wrist free. "You lost that right."
Nathan didn't understand these feelings until Kyra was gone and then he knew this wasn't just friendship. This was love. And he'd fight to get her back.
Then he appeared—Kieran, Kyra's stepbrother and the infamous Alpha from Raven Shadow Pack. He kept her captive, craving every inch of her.
"We're siblings,"Kyra gasped.
His teeth scraped the mating mark on her neck as he growled."'Not by blood.Run from him all you want, little wolf. But you belong to me now."
Trapped between two impossible loves—where does Kyra truly belong?

One look at the man sitting next to mom tells me everything I need to know.
He is Aaron's dad.
Mom is getting married to Aaron's dad.
I had a one night stand with Aaron Coleman seven years ago and in the heat of the moment, after I left the motel he'd fucked me in, I spent the following week writing a fictional story about us.
I'd entirely forgotten about that story until now. The story went ahead to become a New York bestseller the following year but nobody, besides Juliet, knows I'm the author.
Aaron Coleman is about to be my stepbrother. He's the protagonist of a romance book I'd written and dumped years ago.
And as I move slowly, towards the table to join the small party, I realize that the coming weeks is going to be worse than the past seven years of my life, combined.
SEVEN YEARS AGO
"It's almost like you're a virgin," Aaron blurts out in disbelief as he slowly tries to move.His remark makes me feel defensive so I don't know when I get heated and respond in a sharp voice. "What if I am?"
Aaron stiffens against me, his body hovering above mine.
"That's going to be a problem, cupcake," he says in an entirely different voice that tells me I'm in danger...

Jessie Walker never imagined a weekend in Vegas would change her life forever. Nursing a broken heart after her fiancé’s betrayal, she only wanted to escape, have fun, and forget. But one reckless night, a few too many drinks, and a mix-up at a hotel lead her into the arms of Din Cooper—the ruthless billionaire who claims she’s the woman his grandfather has chosen for him to marry.
Din never planned on getting married, at least not to Jessie, but to keep his empire, he has no choice. When he wakes up to find Jessie in his bed, a plastic ring on her finger, and a marriage contract he intentionally signed, he knows one thing—he needs her to play the perfect wife. Jessie, desperate to make ends meet, agrees to the arrangement. The rules are simple: pretend to be in love, avoid getting too close, and walk away when the time comes.
But rules were meant to be broken.
When love and power collide, who will surrender first?

I was trying to steal a child from my comatose billionaire husband, but just as I touched him, his dark eyes suddenly snapped open.

"Thirty million dowry, and you are sold to the Duncan family." My stepmother's words echoed in my head. I was forced to marry Brandon, a man rumored to be a ruthless genius, but who had been lying in a dirty room as a vegetable for a year.

My family abandoned me, and my fiancé slept with my adopted sister. I had nothing left. If Brandon died, I would be thrown onto the streets. So, looking at his breathtakingly handsome face and perfectly sculpted body, I made a crazy decision: I needed his heir.

I locked the door, trembling as I took off his clothes. "Just treat me as a tool, please don't mind," I whispered to his sleeping face.

I straddled him, my heart pounding out of my chest. I thought he couldn't feel a thing. I thought I was safe. But just as I leaned down, a slender, bone-chilling hand suddenly grabbed my wrist like a vice.

I screamed, my blood running cold.

His ink-black eyes, filled with three feet of ice and demonic fury, stared right into my soul. The man who had been declared braindead was awake.

"What did you do to me?" His voice was hoarse, his grip tightening around my throat. "Do you know who I am?"

I was trapped under the most dangerous man in the country, and I had just been caught trying to use him.

“You’re staring at me again,” Jake murmured.

“Maybe because you keep touching me.”

His mouth nearly brushed mine. “Maybe because you like it.”

I hated how badly I did.

Jake Montgomery used to be my secret. Now he’s my stepbrother’s best friend — and living under the same roof again.

After a mysterious accident erased his memories, Jake forgot everything that happened between us that summer. I didn’t.

I remember his hands, his mouth, the promises whispered in the dark — and the blood on the road afterward.

Coming back to Lincoln Heights was supposed to be a fresh start. Instead, every look from Jake feels dangerous. Even without his memories, he still watches me like some part of him remembers exactly what we were.

Every touch, every fight, every jealous glance pulls us closer to the truth buried between us — a truth that could destroy us both.

Because some memories were buried for a reason.

And some people were never supposed to fall in love twice.

Be my slave for 100 nights, and I'll turn you into a lycan so you can be with your lycan lover for as long as you both shall live.


Matilda “Tilly” Parker’s life falls apart when her lycan boyfriend, Xavier Graves, leaves her with nothing but a vague “trust me.”
Human, heartbroken, and fueled by cheap wine and spite, she crosses paths with Cillian Ravenscroft, the vampire CEO of Valmont International. A century-old predator with ice-blue eyes and a smile that could tempt a saint.
Cillian is too smooth, too handsome, too everything—all sharp jaw, piercing gaze, and a smug charm that makes Tilly’s skin crawl and her heart race in ways she refuses to admit.
Cillian offers her a wild solution: become a lycan herself.
And he’s willing to make it happen—for a price. One hundred nights as his personal “slave.”
But she’s no helpless damsel. Scrappy, impulsive, and armed with a mouth that won’t quit, Tilly’s ready to claw her way through this twisted agreement. Yet as the nights slip by, the line between survival and seduction blurs—and the price of becoming a lycan might be far greater than just her heart.
Will Tilly fight her way back to Xavier—or surrender to the vampire who owns her nights?
One hundred nights. One impossible choice. And a hunger neither of them expected.

I crawled out of a mental hospital in the middle of the night—bleeding, broken, and desperate to see my husband.

Instead, I found him toasting champagne with the sister who put me there.

My daughter was starved in an orphanage. My father died alone, his grave unmarked.

And my husband? He threw me back into the snow to die.

A stranger pulled me from the cold. He didn’t offer comfort. He offered a choice.

“Do you want to make them pay?”

Now the man who buried me is begging on his knees. But hell taught me one thing:

Some sins don’t deserve forgiveness.

I was the Luna of the Luthor Pack, the fated mate of Alpha Vincent. I once crawled through a snowstorm, begging for his essence blood to save our dying daughter. His only answer? A boot to my hand and a sneer: "Dream on, you shameless whore."

He shackled me to a silver rack, forcing me to watch faked videos of my "infidelity." To him, I was a corrupt stray; to me, he was my life, my soul, and my tormentor. He finally spat, "Since you love being serviced by men, let my pack have their fill of you," and sold me at an underground auction.

That night, my world shattered. My daughter was tossed into a pit of mad wolves, and I was discarded like trash. But when I finally broke free, I didn't want his love—I wanted revenge. Yet, the moment I disappeared, the man who once stepped on my neck began to lose his mind, hunting the world to find me.

"Marcella, come back," he begged, eyes bloodshot with obsession.

I looked at him, my heart a hollow void. "Alpha, you're too late. I died the day you threw our daughter to the wolves."

She once abandoned him in his poverty, now he has become the judge of her fate

Elena Williams, former heiress of a financial dynasty, never imagined she would reunite with the man she had pushed away three years ago in the midst of a raging fire.

Back then, to save her family, she chose an arranged marriage to wealth, cruelly telling Arthur Kingsley, who was still struggling at the bottom: "You have nothing. What gives you the right to ask me to wait?"

Now, with the Williams family bankrupt, her scumbag fiancé cheats on her with her best friend right in front of her, and even abandons her to die alone in a fire.

The one who saves her from the inferno is the very man she once pushed into the abyss with her own hands—now the king of a financial empire, Arthur Kingsley.

A crushing debt of thirty million dollars falls on her shoulders, and he has blocked every escape route. When she stands before him with nowhere left to turn, the man's eyes burn with the fire of revenge:

"Elena, in these three years—have you spared me a single second of thought?"

"Or have you thrown away everything that was mine, name and all, straight into the garbage?"

He gives her two choices—either produce thirty million dollars, or pay the debt with herself.

But when she truly approaches this dangerous man, she discovers that the occasional red glint in his eyes hides an even greater secret...

She thought this was merely a game of revenge, unaware that she had already fallen into a much deeper trap.

In this battle of money and power, who is the true hunter?

"Tsk. The only thing you're good at is being barbaric and sadistic. That's probably the reason why you haven't found a mate at 24!"
My opponent taunted me after he failed in his 25th challenge.
I was one of the strongest female wolves in the Flower Moon Pack and served as a Gamma. I thought I would be a virgin for the rest of my life, but until that Howling Night...
When I woke up, I was sandwiched between two other naked men.
There were three other men on the floor.
I panicked, there was an intense pain between my legs, I nearly screamed out loud.
Did I give my virginity to five unknown men?!

🔞🔞
“Answer me…how many fucking men have taken pleasure from this body…”
I shake as I feel his fingers skating down my chest…
Breast,
Nipple,
Torso,
Then…then…my vulva.
I moan, staring into his orb with lust...
He locks eyes with me while he feathers a touch over my clit.
“Speak up. How many…have touched this clit, make it swell…make it horny…speak?” He commands and I moan...


Since my eighteenth birthday everything I felt for David turned into lust. I want him to ruin me for other men but he keeps rejecting me. Breaking my heart. I'm not about to stop.
I'll tempt him until he caves. Until he fucks me. Because David Truman is mine.


David started having lustful feelings for Vera since her eighteenth birthday. He tried to make it stop but it couldn't. He knows involving in this naughty relationship with his foster daughter will implicate her life yet he can't help it. He wants to devour her. He want to own her. To ruin her for men.
But after giving her himself as a gift on the night of her graduation, he wanted more.
Will he still be able protect Vera from the mafia brothers searching everywhere for her?