4249 Book(s) Related to if i told you my story

What if waking up as a Greek princess meant becoming a sacrifice to the most brutal god?

Jill Adelaide, an Oscar-nominated actress, never believed in fate—until she woke up in the body of Portia, the most beautiful princess of Sparta.

Her new life comes with a death sentence: she is betrothed to Ares, the God of War. To the world, he is a bloodthirsty monster. To her, he is infuriatingly handsome, possessive, and impossibly tempting.

But Ares is hiding secrets behind his piercing gaze. A mysterious prophecy binds them, and a hidden rebellion threatens to tear Olympus apart. As Jill navigates a world of demigods, monsters, and divine treachery, she must decide if she's merely a pawn in the gods' games—or the one woman who can tame the heart of the God of War.

He craves her soul. She needs his trust. But in a world where gods never fall in love, falling for Ares might be the deadliest risk of all...

They say revenge is a dish best served cold.
Mine's been chilling for five years.
The night James Reed kicked me out of his life, I was pregnant, penniless, and naive enough to believe love mattered more than money.
He taught me better. When you're bleeding out in the rain, clutching your stomach while your best friend laughs from his doorway, you learn exactly what you're worth to people like them.
Zero.
But the woman who nearly died that night? She stayed dead. The one who came back is someone else entirely.
Anna Quinn. Lost daughter of California's most powerful family. CEO of her own pharmaceutical empire. And the silent majority shareholder in James Reed's failing company.
He's about to learn what happens when you build an empire on stolen foundations. His marriage has cracks he doesn't see. And the investors keeping him afloat? They answer to me now.
He thinks he's untouchable. That my formula made him invincible.
But success built on stolen work has a way of crumbling when the original genius decides to pull the rug out.
I don't want him back.
I want him ruined.
And this time, I'm the one holding all the cards.

I was supposed to hate him. Instead, he stole everything: my freedom, my breath, my heart.

When Yara’s life collides with Rafael’s, it’s not by chance... it’s by force. Powerful, dangerously handsome, and untouchable in his tailored black suit, Rafael is the kind of man whispered about in fear. He’s ruthless. Cold. A man built on secrets and sins. The last person Yara should ever want.

But hatred is fragile when desire cuts deeper. Rafael grips more than just her wrist.. he grips her every thought, every heartbeat, pulling her into a storm she cannot escape. The closer she gets, the more his darkness feels like home… and the more dangerous it becomes to stay.

Every touch is a risk. Every look, a temptation. And when the lies between them shatter, Yara must decide if surrendering to the man she was supposed to hate will destroy her or set her free.

Stolen By the Man I Was Supposed to Hate is a dark romance thriller full of obsession, secrets, and a forbidden love that burns hotter than revenge.

Jade was Lucian's secretary by day and his mistress by night.
It wasn't until she became his woman that Jade discovered just how ruthless and promiscuous Lucian could be. When she realized she might be pregnant, the man simply laughed and tossed the pregnancy test into the trash.
"Trying to trap me with a baby? Keep taking your pills."
On the eve of Lucian's engagement, Jade resigned from her job and ended their relationship.
But Lucian assumed she was merely throwing a tantrum. He waited for her to apologize and come crawling back to him, just as she always had before.
Days passed.
Instead of Jade, Lucian got the news that she had a new boyfriend.
His twin brother.
The man who shared his face and happened to be his sworn rival.
Overnight, Jade became his sister-in-law.
Lucian completely lost control. He searched desperately for Jade, determined to bring her back.
But Jade, who was pregnant, had vanished without a trace.

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.

The night my husband George took our five-year-old son to celebrate his mistress winning Best Actress, I found a video on his laptop that shattered everything.
On our seventh anniversary, after waiting hours for a husband who never came home, I made a decision that would destroy him forever.
I didn't confront him. I didn't file for divorce. I didn't beg him to choose me.
Instead, I chose to disappear.
When George came home with exotic wines and a designer dress, trying to cover his lies with expensive gifts, he had no idea he only had six days left with me.
Six days before my car would plunge off Riverside Bridge.
Six days before Brenda Taylor would cease to exist.

For seven years, I'd been the perfect wife. I'd survived the pain of childbirth, the changes to my body he could no longer love, and the slow death of our marriage while he built a new life with actress Candice Black and took our son along for the ride.
He thought I was too devoted to leave. Too broken to fight back. Too in love to see the truth.
But he was wrong.
I didn't leave him. I vanished.

And when my car goes over that bridge, when he realizes what he's lost, that will be the beginning of his end.
Because some betrayals don't deserve confrontation.
They deserve ghosts.

My mate brought his first love home on our eighth anniversary. My husband informed me that he was replacing me while our little boy waited with a cake.

For eight years, I endured the pack's cruel whispers. They told me that I had caught Alpha Kael with a pregnancy. I endured it all for his sake; I loved him. I raised our son, Leo, and I did my best to be the perfect Luna. However, when my first love came back, Kael cast me aside. Our son's heart broke because of him. When he attempted to take Leo from me, saying I was too frail to raise his heir, I did the unimaginable. I took my boy away and I disappeared.

Three years later, Kael finds out that the lady he selected was a lying snake. He seeks me out with bitter regret. But I'm not the little girl he broke; I'm not the little girl who cried and cried. I am now back, full of glory and strength. And I am not alone.
I'm standing by a ruthless Lycan King who holds my hand and treats my son like a true prince. Kael's eyes are red with feral jealousy as he watches another man raise his heir. He's willing to destroy the world to redeem us. But it is too late.

The Alpha made his choice, and now he'll suffer from regret.

Liya built her world around Marcus.
She trusted him with everything, her heart, her life, her children.

But on the day she buried her babies, Liya walked into a truth she was never meant to believe.

Her husband pressed against his step sister, moaning her name.
His hands gripped around her waist. Their bodies so close together as they enjoyed the moment, moaning and whispering.
She learned they murdered her twins for an experiment.
Used them as living in-vivo subjects for Clarissa’s failed research. Lied about COVID complications.
And now, they planned to destroy her, steal her company shares……and harvest her unconscious mother’s kidney.

Betrayed. Broken. She collapsed. Only to wake up in a hospital bed with Marcus suddenly acting like the perfect husband and Clarissa pretending to be the grieving sister-in-law.

But Liya remembers everything.

She remembers the lies.The betrayal.
The murder.

And she remembers one more thing, she’s done being their victim.

But when she calls her father for help, someone else answers the phone.

Benjamin Marino. A mafia Don.
Her father’s oldest enemy… and the man she has been running from.

Now Liya has a plan. A 99 + 1 revenge gifts.

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.

The Hales found me twenty years too late and announced I was their real daughter.

Everyone expected me to tear apart the girl who'd lived my life.

Instead, I asked if she could cook. She could, so I claimed her as my big sister on the spot.

My biological brother didn't take it well. At dinner, he raised his hand to hit me.

Then the shy, shaking fake heiress stepped in front of me. "Don't hit her!"

I found my husband's vasectomy certificate while sorting medical bills. The procedure was done a year ago. But I was six months pregnant now.

I stared at the date on the paper and my hand just... stopped. I kept checking it again and again, but it was still the same. I was freaking out. I looked down at my bump showing through this baggy sweater, and my hands started shaking.

I got in my car and drove straight to my husband's private club. I needed answers about this, now.

After one night with the man I'd secretly loved, I told him how I felt.
His response was simple. "What made you think sleeping with me would make me want you?"
I didn't say another word. I just walked out.
I changed my number, moved to another city, and cut him out of my life completely.
Then my roommate, Vanessa, was hospitalized with a high fever.
Her boyfriend drove through the night to see her — the kind of man who could afford to just drop everything.
When he walked into the hospital room, I froze.
It was Adrian Cole.
The man I had spent two years trying to forget.
Except he looked at me without recognition.
"Thanks for taking care of her," he said. "Let me add you. I'll send you whatever you spent."
He had no idea who I was.
And somehow, that hurt more than his rejection ever had.

I am the top algorithm genius on Wall Street.
When my wife's first love got into serious trouble, she didn't hesitate to cut off my daughter's medical expenses and force me to go to jail for that scumbag.
But she didn't know that without me, her multi-billion dollar empire was just an empty shell that could explode at any moment.
She could never have known that the little girl she cursed as a "bastard" and who was driven to her death by her own hands was actually her own flesh and blood, whom she thought had died at birth.
When, a few days later, I, who should have been dying in prison, suddenly arrived with short-selling capital and a top-secret paternity test... I wonder if this high and mighty queen will still be able to laugh.

As a wolf princess, I gave up my beast core, my dignity, and three years of life for my mate’s throne. I walked willingly into the lion clan’s darkest kennel camp, enduring beastly torture and dog-like degradation. I survived on rot and poison, clinging to false hope. Until I returned and learned the bitter truth: my wolf mate destroyed me with his own hands. The war was fake, and my hell was his deliberate choice.

A fire broke out at the fraternity party. I desperately pushed Mia, my brother's girlfriend, out of harm's way, only to get pinned down by a falling beam myself. My brother Liam chose to save Mia first, kicking away my oxygen mask as he left. Mia then locked the door, leaving me to burn alive.

Yet they thought I was throwing a tantrum and playing hide-and-seek. They called me "toxic" and "attention-seeking" on social media, even freezing my credit cards.

On the day the apocalyptic flood swallowed the city, I died on a fractured overpass.

The man who crushed my fingers under his boot was my brother-in-law, the very man I had sacrificed everything to support. And standing safely out of reach, watching coldly as the muddy torrent swallowed me whole, was my supposedly sweet and devoted fiancée. In her arms, she fiercely clutched her "son"—who was hoarding the last of my survival rations.

In the very last second of my life, she nestled into the arms of her ex-boyfriend and left me with a single, contemptuous sneer: "Let's go. Forget about this useless trash."

It turned out that working my fingers to the bone and emptying my life savings had all been a pathetic joke—a long con orchestrated by a pack of bloodsucking parasites.

But when I opened my eyes again, I had returned to exactly one year before the apocalypse began.

My fiancée was standing there, holding a cup of hot coffee and sweetly begging me to invest another million into her brother's business.

I just smiled, gently pushed her hand away, and turned around to liquidate every single asset to my name. With that money, I secretly constructed a state-of-the-art, deep-sea underground fortress.

Later, when the monstrous floodwaters inevitably tore the city apart, they stood on the balcony of their doomed mansion, desperately falling to their knees and begging my icebreaker for salvation.

Sitting inside my perfectly secure command cabin, I took a leisurely sip of hot coffee and softly gave the order:

"Open fire. Don't let this trash dirty my deck."

My daughter begged me, tears in her eyes, to take her to gymnastics camp—just the two of us.

I thought it was her way of proving she loved me.

I was wrong.

In that hotel room in Toronto, I overheard my husband's voice—with another woman.

“Don't worry, Sophia will find a way to stay a few more days. I promised her that blue limited-edition leotard.”

“Her body now… after giving birth, it's ruined.”

In that moment, my world collapsed.

I thought I'd only been betrayed by my husband.
But the daughter I raised with everything I had—she was his accomplice.

The child I nurtured with my own hands kept clearing the path: so that woman could sleep in my bed, wear the lingerie I could no longer fit into, sneer in front of the mirror at every single mark my body earned from bringing life into this world.

I once believed that giving up my career would be enough to hold my family together.

But they joined hands to tell me: my sacrifice was never honored. It was a joke.

When a woman who has given everything to her family finally wakes up—

Her revenge will make every single one of them remember exactly what they did.

"Margaret has face blindness—she won't even recognize the groom. Tomorrow's ceremony? Just stick any random guy up there with her. Isabelle, I'll marry YOU in the rose garden. Our real wedding."

I stood outside my bedroom door the night before my wedding, listening to my fiancé Theodore plot with my adopted sister, my own parents nodding along.

They thought I was broken. A defective bride too blind to know she was being played.

They wanted a stand-in groom? Fine. I'd give them one.

So I gave them their fake wedding. With one little change.

The "random stand-in" they're expecting? He's Theodore's worst enemy. He's Sebastian Kingsley.

Oh, and according to the marriage certificate we signed three hours ago—he's also my husband.

Jonathan’s way of loving was always paying in silence. After we broke up, he cleared my shopping cart, stocked up enough makeup remover to last me three years, trying his best to make up for it. But during those three years when I willingly waited for him to propose, he never said a word. Until one day, he found a small note I’d written in pencil three years ago in that wedding planning book: “It’s okay, I can wait.” He cried all night staring at that line, and the next day, he bought 17 copies of the same book. On the title page of each one, he wrote neatly: “Wait for me.” It turns out, the stupidest person takes three years just to learn to say “I love you.”

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

He'd been given the wrong account.

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

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

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

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

So he started dating her and muted my messages.

Including the one where I'd already dumped him.

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

“No hubby today?”

The day the Gryphon army marched home in victory, my sister's husband came back safe. My husband, Tobias, died on the ice.

Everyone pitied me, and I believed them. I mourned him for years, handed over every resource the Elven Realm had to offer to Crown Prince Nathaniel, and helped him lock down his claim to the throne.

It took me years to find out the man who came back wasn't Nathaniel at all. It was my "dead" husband, Tobias.

He killed his own brother, stole his face with forbidden magic, all so he could marry my sister Sabrina and make her his queen, official and out in the open.

"Sabrina and I are the real thing. Pretending to be my brother, that was for the good of the kingdom."

They framed me for treason and threw me into the Pit of Judgment. As I burned, I watched the two of them hold each other while the kingdom cheered.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the army came home.

My sister begged me to stop grieving, tears in her eyes. "Nathaniel" swore he'd give me a life of luxury. The old king stood in front of everyone and promised to grant me anything I wanted.

This time, I didn't cry. I chose to remarry without a second thought.

Tobias thought wearing his brother's face was all it took to sit on that throne. What he didn't know was that without me, he never stood a chance of getting there at all.

My daughter helped my husband cheat.

My ten-year-old begged me to take her to a summer camp in Italy. My husband looked at her like she hung the moon. Booked the tickets right there.

I thought I was the luckiest mom alive.

Then I checked the pet camera from overseas.

There he was, fucking my daughter's riding instructor on our couch.

But what really killed me? What he said, "Don't worry. Nina wants that horse bad enough, she'll keep her mom in Europe as long as we need."

Back home, my husband dropped a receipt. Two identical limited edition watches.

He froze. My sweet daughter didn't miss a beat, "Dad used the other one to bribe someone so I could get my horse!"

They lied in perfect sync. That's when something in me broke.

They thought I was still that stupid, trusting wife.

What they didn't know?

I'd already signed a contract. Going back to my art career in New York.

For ten years, Elena Rossi built Don Nico De Luca’s empire from blood, bullets, and broken promises. She was his shield, his strategist, his most loyal woman, until he gave another girl the tenderness he had always denied her. When Elena finally walks away, Nico thinks she can be replaced. But without her, his throne begins to crack, and the woman he took for granted rises into a future that no longer has room for him.

Nineteen times. That's how many times Lucas promised to marry me, only to leave me standing alone because of her.
Today was supposed to be our day. But as I stood in the biting cold outside the restaurant, watching him carefully help Selena into his Maybach, the marriage application still tucked in my purse, I finally understood—that "someday" would never come.
"Let's reschedule the registration, okay?" he'd said without even looking at me.
I walked straight to HR and submitted my resignation. Then I accepted the offer from the Morinetti family—his sworn enemies.
As I boarded my flight to the West Coast, my phone exploded with messages.
"We agreed to go to City Hall today. Where are you?"
I glanced at the screen one last time, then powered it off.
"We're done."

My husband's childhood sweetheart lost her entry for the competition,
so he gave mine to her.
It was I who saved him all those years ago,
and that's why he married me.
But he turned his back on me right after our wedding.
I've been childhood sweetheart all these years.
But this time,
I suddenly feel like this marriage has lost all its meaning.
After handing in the transfer request I had prepared long ago to the factory director,
I rejected his offer to stay.
I can't bear to stay in this place for another day.
I want to go to New York,
start a new chapter in my life,
and let everything that happened before just drift away. all its meaning.
After handing in the transfer request I had prepared long ago to the factory director,
I rejected his offer to stay.
I can't bear to stay in this place for another day.
I want to go to New York,
start a new chapter in my life,
and let everything that happened before just drift away.

I’m a retired special forces soldier.

Three months ago, my little brother vanished—and every lead went dead.

I tracked the trail to a private rehab clinic on a tropical island. On the surface, it’s wellness and recovery. Underneath, it’s an organ market.

Following the clinic led me to one person—her. She specializes in luring “donors” through the front door.

To avenge my brother, I got close on purpose and let her become my girlfriend.

She thought I was easy money, a body delivered to her table, and she brought me into that clinic herself.

She didn’t know I’d been waiting for this moment for three months.

On the operating table, the needle hovered three centimeters from my skin.

She thought I was finished.

She didn’t know these hands have held a gun—and snapped more than a few necks.

In my past life, my brother-in-law predicted the coming of an extreme cold apocalypse and claimed he would awaken a spatial ability on the day it arrived.
I didn't believe him, but under pressure from my wife's family, I purchased supplies anyway. Then the frozen apocalypse actually came.
I thought we'd survive together as a family, but my brother-in-law had bragged about his spatial ability and massive supplies before awakening. When his ability manifested, the space was pitifully small, and everyone he'd told came to rob us.
When food ran out, my wife's family turned on me, killing and eating me.
Reborn, I've decided to take revenge on my wife's entire family. And it all starts with secretly building my own shelter.

On the seventh wedding anniversary, I woke up in the lounge and found a big word "BITCH" sprayed with red paint on my chest.
The culprit, holding a spray-paint can, had a naive-looking smile on her face and said, "I'm doing you a favor. Your white outfit's way too boring."
I was just about to take action when my husband rushed in to protect her, frowning and scolding me: "She's just a little girl; she doesn't know any better. Do you have to be so petty?"
At this moment, looking at the man in front of me who had risen because of my family's influence, I suddenly laughed.
He probably forgot who had given him this overwhelming wealth.
I unscrewed the red-tipped thick paint pen and walked step by step towards the trembling girl.
"Your face is boring, too. Let me do you a favor."
As for my husband?
I'll make him know that without me, he's worse than a dog.

"You want a divorce?" His voice was ice, sending a chill down her spine. "You'll never get it."
For three years, Bellatrix devoted herself to Cillian Laurent—Miami’s ruthless tycoon and her indifferent husband—hoping to earn his love. But when she’s diagnosed with a life-threatening illness, she realizes the bitter truth: she was never his choice. Just a placeholder for the woman who abandoned him… and has now returned.
Determined to reclaim her life, Bellatrix demands a divorce. But the man who once ignored her now refuses to let her go. As buried secrets unravel, she discovers their twisted marriage was never what it seemed.
Can she break free from a love that was never hers?
Or will his obsession destroy them both?

Three years ago, his beloved sister orchestrated an accident that not only left me deaf but also stripped me of my wolf.
Three years later, I watched him hold a grand festival to welcome her home. He called the accident that ruined my life nothing more than a childish mistake and pushed me away to save her.
Now, my wolf has returned, and a marriage proposal is waiting for my answer.
I won't waste another second waiting for a mate who never chose me.
Goodbye, mate.

I gave him three years of silent devotion behind a mask I never wanted to wear. I made a wager for our bond—he paid me off like a mistress.
"Chloe's back," Zane said coldly. "It's over."
I laughed, poured wine on his face, and walked away from the only love I'd ever known.
"What now?" my best friend asked.
I smiled. "The real me returns."
But fate wasn't finished yet.
That same night, Caesar Conrad—the Alpha every wolf feared—opened his car door and whispered, "Get in."
Our gazes collided. The bond awakened. No games. No pretending. Just raw, unstoppable power.
"Don't regret this," he warned, lips brushing mine.
But I didn't.
Because the mate I'd been chasing never saw me.
And the one who did?
He's ready to burn the world for me.

Elena was born to lead, but her father strips her of her birthright and gives it to her younger brother. Desperate to get back at her father, she does the unthinkable: she sleeps with her father's greatest enemy, Alpha Axton.

But Axton is more than just a rival, he's her fated mate. And he's been searching for her not for love, but for revenge and a chance to destroy her father's pack. The next morning, Elena rejects him, walking away before he can trap her in his ruthless schemes.

But Axton does not take rejection lightly, and his retaliation is brutal: a leaked video, a ruined reputation, and a family that turns their backs on her drive her to flee the city in disgrace.

But when Elena disappears, she takes something Alpha Axton never planned to lose - his sons. Now, he'll stop at nothing to get them back. He wants his heirs, he wants his mate, and Elena will learn that no one runs from the Alpha.

‘You want divorce?’
He was shocked to see the divorce papers as a gift for our third anniversary. Even I had never thought my marriage of three years will end like that until that night when I wanted to surprise my husband but was surprised catching him crying for another woman.
That night I knew what I had to do, I couldn’t live a loveless marriage, and it was time to let it go. I took revenge of my humiliation and moved forward to live a happy and peaceful life, I chosed to love myself this time!

"I married you only to destroy you."

That was the only reason FBI agent Sophia Carter accepted a new identity as Evelyn Russo and married Lorenzo Moretti, the most dangerous mafia boss in Italy.

Her mission was to infiltrate, gather evidence, drag Lorenzo to prison, and save the children and women that Lorenzo Moretti had kidnapped for trafficking.

But life as a Don's wife was never as simple as she had imagined. Behind the luxurious mansion, the armed men, and the secrets of the Moretti family, Sophia found herself trapped in a game she did not understand.
The closer she got to Lorenzo, the harder it became to distinguish lies from reality.
But one thing never changed. If her identity as an FBI agent was exposed, then at that very moment, she would die at her own husband's hands.

It was funny how being betrayed could change a soul.

They were orphans. They grew up together. They survived together. They killed the tyrant Alpha together.

But when the time came for him to propose his love for her and make her his Luna, all she received was a stab to her stomach.

He betrayed her for another. For the late tyrant’s daughter.

He buried her and thought that she had died. But just like how fate had played a trick on her, it also played a trick on him.

She survived, but was stuck in the den of a ruthless Lycan King, after a mate pull, which was stronger than anyone had ever felt, pulled them together by force.

{She is Demira, and welcome to her story}
…
This book is a dark werewolf romance story that is filled with pure chaotic drama and a little bit of tension and suspense.

So, add to your libraries, because you are in for a ride that will be stuck in your mind for a really long time.

Luna Chen wanted a quiet life. Instead, she got a 1940s architect in a tailored suit who appeared in her bedroom at 3 a.m. and calmly announced:

“You’re my wife now.”

Rhen Blackwood has been trapped in her grandmother’s apartment for eighty years, bound by a supernatural contract.

The final condition? Fall in love for real… or the Spirit Broker drags his soul into eternal nothingness.

Luna doesn’t believe in ghosts. She definitely doesn’t believe in love. But Ren is infuriatingly perceptive, dryly funny, and the only person who sees straight through her walls.

As the deadline closes in, the lines between annoyance and aching want begin to blur. Lights flicker. Secrets surface.

And every time Ren’s form starts to fade, Luna realizes she might lose the one man who finally makes her feel alive.

She was supposed to fix his unfinished business.
She never expected him to become hers.

A slow-burn paranormal romance full of dark humor, haunted hearts, and one very stubborn ghost who refuses to stay dead.

1

She was born without magic. He was the most powerful dragon alive. Their meeting was never supposed to happen.
A drop of Calista's blood awakens an ancient dragon imprisoned deep within the earth—a terrifying creature whose very existence should be nothing more than a forgotten legend.
When a mysterious force sends them centuries into the past, Calista finds herself in a world where dragons rule the skies, ancient magic still lives, and secrets buried for generations are finally beginning to surface.
To return home, they must uncover the truth, survive the ancient kingdom, and complete the task that brought them there.

I thought the scariest thing in school was the jock who harassed me. But then he vanished without a trace, and everyone blamed me.

There is no strong evidence to lock me away, so I walk the school hallways trapped in a living hell. The police watch my every move, the town hates me, and my adoptive parents treat me like an unwanted curse in their home.

Desperate to clear my name, I didn't realize the real danger was living right next door.

Xavi Moreau is the quiet, haunting boy who looks right through me. He doesn't live with his family; he lives alone in his own place. To the world, he is a handsome party guy who drinks, smiles, and blends into the crowd.

But I noticed the truth. His smiles are fake. His laughter never reaches his cold eyes. He is just copying the emotions of others to hide a dark, hollow soul.

When he notices my stares, his obsession shifts entirely to me.

Every single time he approaches me, I push him away. I deny him. I fight his terrifying presence with every ounce of strength I have left. But Xavi doesn't back down. He offers me the one thing I desperately need: a promise to find the truth and clear my name.

I wanted to find a killer to save myself, but the killer has already found me, and he has no intention of letting me go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I stand up. “I object.”

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

I died trying to save the animals I loved—then woke up as the abusive stepmother of a four-year-old beastkin boy.
According to the original story, Milo will grow up to become a ruthless villain. But right now, he is just a frightened little lynx who sleeps on a filthy blanket, eats pet food from a bowl, and thinks every kindness comes with a price.
I have no mission to complete and no plot to preserve. I only want to teach him three things: he deserves real food, he never has to earn his place at home, and his ridiculously soft ears are absolutely adorable.
There is just one complication.
His cold, powerful father is a tiger—and apparently, he wants to become my real husband.

I am the chief architect of a quantum computing system valued at hundreds of billions in the real world.
For an AI test subject that I wrote myself, I was willing to conceal my identity as the creator and become her unseen, low-level assistant, even at the cost of taking a fatal blow for her.
Just as she was about to go public and reach the top of the conglomerate pyramid, she unhesitatingly pushed an "Organ Donation Agreement" in front of me, forcing me to remove a kidney to save the newly spawned "old money" NPC new love.
She thought that as long as I died on the operating table, she could kick me aside, this useless stepping stone, without any moral burden, and embrace the perfect capitalist marriage.
But she didn't know—
The entire world she exists in is just a sandbox test server on my desk.

Seven days before the doomsday outbreak, the wild weeds by the road spoke to me: The zombies are coming.
I rushed home, intending to take my fiancée and flee for our lives.
But outside the door, I overheard her plotting with her boss on the sofa, scheming to drain all my wealth.
"He’s just an orphan with no family or connections. No one would care even if he dies."
I didn’t push the door open.
Instead, I quietly cashed out all my assets overnight and built an impenetrable island fortress without delay.
Seven days later, the zombie hordes surrounded the city.
She and her entire family were chased by the monsters, covered in blood and mangled.
They knelt frantically kowtowing and begging for help right outside my explosion-proof gate.
I coldly locked the door tight.
"You were right," I said. "No one really cares if you die. Just go in peace."

Three days after I lost our baby, my husband finally remembered to call.

I was packing when Adrian Whitmore's name appeared on my screen.

"Vanessa told me you caused another scene over the medical bills," he said, sounding irritated. "I've authorized the payment. Can we please move on?"

I stared at the tiny knitted sweater lying in my suitcase.

I'd bought it the day I learned I was pregnant.

He didn't know I'd already prepared our divorce papers.

For three years, I'd been Mrs. Whitmore, the wife of one of New York's wealthiest men. No one would believe that after three years as Mrs. Whitmore, I couldn't find four decent outfits in my own closet.

Every dollar I spent required approval, and even my clothes and jewelry were locked away. To access anything, I had to ask his assistant, Vanessa Reed.

Adrian believed my modest upbringing made me incapable of handling money responsibly.

Three days ago, seventeen weeks pregnant, I needed money for an emergency medical transfer.

Vanessa deliberately delayed the approval until it was too late.

I lost our baby.

Adrian never cared enough to notice what I'd been through. I had endured years of humiliation just because I loved him, still holding out hope for the happy marriage he'd once promised.

But now our baby was gone.

And I had no reason left to stay.

In my previous life, I ran a barbecue restaurant to support my family for ten years, but my parents secretly sold the restaurant to a gang because of my younger brother's vanity in wanting him to study abroad.
An hour later, the apocalypse began, and my little shop became a god-level safe house—
Those with superpowers who enter the store have their abilities automatically copied to the store owner; the store is absolutely safe; the store owner decides who enters and who leaves.
My family ruined my amazing little shop, and they scolded me, saying, "Who told you to be unable to keep the shop?"
I was heartbroken and torn to pieces in the mouth of a zombie.
In this life, I was reborn back to an hour before the shop was taken away.
I must protect my shop!
As for those so-called family members—let them fend for themselves in the apocalypse!

The day I died in a foreign country, my boyfriend was in the spotlight with another woman.

He's the man I built from nothing. Five years ago, I saved a broke orphan fresh out of college from the gutter. He said he wanted to be famous, wanted to make it to the top of the hockey world. In exchange, he became my boyfriend for five years.

I gave him the best coaching staff money could buy. Bought an entire hockey franchise and made him the centerpiece. Called in every favor I had to make him MVP.

But while he enjoyed everything I gave him, he refused to make our relationship public. Said it would "hurt his brand." He could make headlines with reporters and models, but nobody could know I existed.

He even said on national TV: "Those owners who just throw money around are pretty boring. Hockey is about skill, not money."

So why did he lose his mind when he found out I was dead?

Forty-eight hours before my wedding, I was kidnapped and gang-raped, surviving by only a thread in the depths of despair.   When my mafia boss fiancé and my police detective best friend stood guard by my hospital bed with bloodshot eyes, I heard him suddenly switch to Navajo and ask her, "The death row inmates from the dark web—were they dealt with cleanly?"   My best friend chuckled, replying in the same language. "Don't worry. The guys who put their hands on Maya have been wiped out. Dead men tell no tales."   "Sacrificing Maya alone gave you the perfect excuse to wipe out the rival family and swallow the southern smuggling network, while earning me a high-level promotion. It was a damn good deal."   Amidst tearing, agonizing pain, it felt as if I had been plunged into an ice cliff.   They thought I could never understand this obscure tribal language, so they brazenly feasted on the spoils of victory built upon my very flesh and blood. But what they didn't know was that, to surprise my fiancé during our wedding vows... I had been secretly studying Navajo for an entire year.

I died from campus rumors and elite prejudice in my last life.
Reborn, I no longer choose to explain. I collect every timestamp, fingerprint and hidden deal.
I expose my traitorous boyfriend, fake weak rival, and the school’s biased protection of the privileged.
With ironclad proof, I overturned all injustice and let every hypocrite pay the price.

"What is the ultimate favoritism your partner gives you?"
On the third day after the IVF procedure, I came across this trending question on a werewolf forum.
Just as I was about to scroll past, a highly upvoted answer pierced straight through my eyes.
"I'm newly pregnant with the Alpha's cub, so I can answer this question."
"The favoritism is this: even though I’m not his official mate, he lied to the one at home—claiming she’s infertile due to health issues—just so I could conceive."
"He said: 'A human body is like a broken vessel. Only a strong she-wolf like me deserves to carry his cubs.'"
In the photo, the ruby necklace that belonged exclusively to me was hanging around her neck.
Trembling, I finished reading every word.
So this was his idea of a beautiful future—sowing his seeds in his lieutenant's bed.
So the agony of egg retrieval I endured was, in his eyes, nothing but the useless struggle of a broken vessel.
I laughed until tears fell.
Back then, I defied my father and even cut ties with my family just to marry this stray wolf.
"Ella, sooner or later, you’ll come crying back, begging for our forgiveness."
Now, it turns out I really have failed.
I pulled the IV needle from the back of my hand and dialed the number I’d blocked five years ago.
"In three days, I will return to the Hunters' Legion."