4119 Book(s) Related to i got a story to tell

My younger sister scored 8.2. I scored 0.3.
She was the genius. I was the waste-blood Omega.
My parents threw me to the strays.
Said I didn't deserve the Silver Moon name.
Said the slum was where I belonged.
Now I'm awake, with molten gold in my veins.
This time, you'll be the ones begging to take me back.

For two and a half years, I survived on my husband’s measly $480 monthly allowance, trapped in a gilded mansion as his invisible, unpaid housekeeper while he lavished wealth and attention on another woman.

When Ethan finally offered me $13.2 million to sign a divorce and disappear quietly, I agreed instantly.

I did not grieve the end of my marriage. I rejoiced at my freedom.

What he never knew was that I was twelve weeks pregnant with his twins. I signed the papers, took his money, and walked away without a single tear, determined to raise my two children far away from his cold, cruel world.

But the trap was never the empty marriage or the tiny monthly allowance.
It was the hidden conspiracy behind his sudden expensive divorce.

Now my ex-husband is fighting to take back what he once abandoned—my children and me.
Only this time, I am no longer the desperate wife living on spare change.
I am rich, free, and unbreakable.

A lowly Omega orphan stole my body using the dark magic of a Night Witch.
In my past life, I tried like a madwoman to prove that I was the pack's true pureblood heiress.
But my parents didn't believe me, and neither did my fated mate.
They locked me in the dungeon with chains soaked in wolfsbane. Later, Elara even bribed the guards and sold me like livestock to a rogue pack in the wastelands.
My throat was torn out alive, and I took my last breath in endless torment.
Only after death did I learn that the Moonshadow Curse was absolutely bound by the lunar phases.
Its duration was a mere thirteen days.
When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the first day after our bodies were swapped.

For seventeen years, Chloe was the Whitmores’ hidden spare daughter. They harvested her marrow, liver and cornea, then plotted to take her heart for their beloved adopted daughter. Fleeing death through a storm, she is rescued by ruthless power broker Victoria Kane. A faint crescent scar unearths a secret: Chloe is Victoria’s long-lost birth daughter. Together, they will destroy the greedy family that fed on her

A billionaire offered me $1.5 million a year to marry him and raise his three kids.

He flew overseas the afternoon we signed.

His youngest told the butler to throw me out. His daughter flipped me off. His oldest smiled and asked what he should call me.

I held up the marriage certificate. "Call me Mom."

Two weeks later, his daughter crouched on her bedroom windowsill and swore she'd jump unless I let her go.

I walked over and planted my foot on her shoulder.

In my family, there's a rule: any woman who reaches thirty without getting married must return to the family estate and have her marriage arranged by the Council of Elders.
When I told Dominic Moretti about this, he was sitting on my desk flipping through financial reports.
After hearing me out, he let out a derisive laugh.
"Is the Bennett family some medieval royal house? A bunch of old men get to decide who marries whom?"
"I'm not asking for your opinion. I'm simply telling you—we've been together for seven years."
"If we don't get married, I'll have to go back to the estate."
"Ava Bennett, I said I'd marry you, and I will." Dominic finally looked up, his eyes fixed on me. "But you'd better understand—me wanting to marry you and you forcing me into marriage are two very different things."
Forcing him?

Married to Declan Hargrove for three years, I kept my past locked away tight. I let no one near Greybell, and I never, ever mentioned the name Calloway.
Until Piper excitedly dug up the "incest scandal" between me and my own brother. The Hargrove family booked their flights that very night, vowing to fly to Greybell and tear my "white-trash" parents to shreds.
I knelt on the carpet, shaking and sobbing.
But hiding behind the curtain of my long hair, no one saw the truth. I wasn’t begging for my own life.
I was begging for theirs.
Because my brother, Reid, had already gotten the news. He was in Greybell right now, preparing an unforgettable "feast" for our arrogant guests.

When my husband's eight-year-old "nephew" Noah was diagnosed with acute leukemia, the whole family begged for my help.

They needed my six-year-old daughter, Molly—the only perfect match.

Against my instincts as a head nurse, I agreed.

But the second Molly's stem cells were harvested, their gratitude vanished.

To avoid paying for my daughter’s mandatory sterile recovery room, Noah's mother live-streamed a crying fit in my lobby, accusing me of medical extortion. My husband, Grant, stood by in utter silence.

Without the isolation bed, my baby girl contracted a severe infection and died. My mother-in-law simply sneered outside the ICU, "Dead is dead. Better than wasting more money."

Three months later, Noah relapses.

Now, my phone is blowing up. The same people who watched my daughter suffocate in her own fluids are desperately begging me to use my hospital registry access to save him again.

Standing by Molly’s tiny headstone, I look down at the confidential DNA report I pulled from the hospital database.

They think I don’t know Noah is actually Grant's illegitimate son. They think I'll just hang up and cry.

Instead, I swipe to answer the call. It's time to make them pay.

My reward for my father dying for the Alpha? A guaranteed forced bond with one of his two sons.

I chose the golden child, Ronan—and paid for it with my life.

Reborn on the day of the ceremony, I didn't hesitate. I pointed straight at Darius, the terrifying outcast brother everyone warned me about.

To hell with Ronan and his fairy tales.

But there's one sick twist I didn't see coming: Ronan remembers our first life, too.

And this time, he's the one who's going to beg.

"Only one life jacket left!" a crewman shouted as the cruise ship sank.
My husband, Captain Harrison, looked torn between me—his pregnant wife—and Emma, his first love.
Last time, he gave me the jacket, intending to die with Emma. But he survived, and she drowned. To avenge her, he smothered our newborn. "You stole her life," he snarled. I killed him for my baby, bleeding out beside him.
Waking to the deafening sirens, I realize I’ve been reborn. This time, who will get that final life jacket?

I had been Lucan Ferretti's wife for five years. I had also been the woman who took a bullet meant for him.
Four years of fertility treatments. Four years of empty rooms where a nursery should have been. Then, the day I finally get a positive test, I find something else: two secret sons, funded by my husband's money, waiting in a house I was never supposed to find.
Their names? The ones Lucan and I picked out together, years ago, in a hospital parking lot.
That night, I sat alone with the positive test still in my hand, memorizing the names he'd already given to someone else's sons.
I could have confronted him. I could have screamed, thrown things, demanded a divorce.
Instead, I find a text message. His mistress has already ordered a hit — on me, timed for our anniversary, dressed up to look like enemy retaliation.
She wants me dead before I can tell anyone I'm carrying his child.
Fine.
She can have exactly what she asked for.

Two years ago, my best friend Maddie knelt in front of me, crying as she borrowed $50,000.
The very next day, she vanished off the face of the earth. No explanation, no apology, not even a single text message.
I was left carrying her toxic debt. I lost my fiancé, and I lost my ability to trust anyone.
Until one late night, a call came in from an unknown number originating in an abandoned mining district in West Virginia.
On the other end of the line, Maddie said she was getting married. She had the money ready—every last cent.
The wedding venue was a ruined church deep in the mountains, abandoned for a decade. The time: Friday, midnight.

My ex-boyfriend wrote a hit song about me. He told the whole world I dumped him for being poor, painting me as the heartless ex who took nothing but his dog when I left.
I let him believe it. It was easier for him to hate me than to watch me decay.
A year later, he was on national television, his arm wrapped around a beautiful new starlet. When the host brought up our sudden breakup, Evan laughed coldly.
"I'd pay to see her face right now," he told the audience. "As long as she's living a pathetic life, I can finally move on."
The host didn't laugh. Instead, he stared at Evan with a heavy gaze.
"She hasn't been living a pathetic life, Evan. Actually, she sent us these recordings... before she died."

As a regular student, I never expected to fit into the world of trust fund kids. But this real estate heiress reached out to me, said she'd show me how the other half lives, even promised to introduce me to New England's most powerful heir.

I thought she'd be my friend. Thought she actually cared. I even fell for him.

Until she framed me for stealing confidential school files. Until he said, "Just a scholarship kid. No one's gonna miss her." That's when I understood. I was never more than their toy.

They tore up my textbooks, stuffed dead rats in my locker, spent six months tormenting me online and off. My mother couldn't take the vicious comments. Her heart gave out. And me? After I completely broke down, they drove me to the coastal cliffs.

Ice-cold water flooded my nose and mouth. Suffocation dragged me down into despair. I hate myself for being weak. Hate them for their arrogance. Hate this rotten system that treats people like me as disposable.

But when I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the night she pushed me toward him.

This time, I won't be fooled.

Five years. That's what I gave Vaelor, Crown Prince of the Dark Elves.
I was already dressed for the betrothal ceremony when I caught his voice through the gap in the council hall door.
"You're really going through with it? The human?"
"Of course. The Alliance has kept a blade at our throats for years. Their leader's apprentice, given to us in marriage—that puts it away."
"But if she suspects—"
"She won't."
"And Lyseth—"
"Lyseth is who matters. The human is manageable."
I didn't make it out of the courtyard. A blade came from the darkness before I could summon a defense.
When I woke up, I remembered everything. Aldric. Isara. The Alliance. Five years of roads, every step.
Just not his face.
Aldric's messenger stone was on the nightstand. Short, direct: Return to the Alliance. Political marriage. Orc Royal House.
I wrote back: Seven days.

I was once the beloved daughter of the powerful Alpha and Luna of The Blue Moon Pack. I thought I had everything—a loving family, a protective brother, and a perfect fated mate—Egbert Dolton, the strongest Beta of The Blue Moon Pack and the man I had loved for eighteen years.
But when I turned eighteen, my world shattered.
I discovered that I had been switched at birth and that Audrey was the true heir of the pack.
In an instant, I became the most awkward existence within The Blue Moon Pack.
Though my parents promised I would always be their daughter, when Audrey offended The Rogue King, they didn’t hesitate to make me take the blame and threw me into the infamous rogue den.
I endured torture from silver chains and wolfsbane, my body covered in scars, becoming the lowest slave in the rogue den.
It wasn’t until the fifth year that my brother-Alpha Damon and my former fiancé- Egbert, came to the rogue den to take me back to The Blue Moon Pack.

EXCERPT:

"Rayne stood looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her a pale green ballgown clung to her curves and left little to the imagination. Her jet-black curls are swept up and pinned to her head, leaving her neck exposed. Tonight was the night that most of the unmated wolves in all the North American packs would hopefully find their mates. She was sure all of them were just oozing with excitement.

She was not.

She didn’t want a mate. She didn’t need a mate...."

“...but the sudden scent of jasmine and vanilla hit her nose from somewhere close. That meant only one thing. Her mate was near..."


Rayne met her mate at the Moonlight Ball when she was eighteen, her mate that she never wanted to find, that she never wanted in her life. He showed up out of nowhere. His actions that night unknowingly set her free. She took the freedom he gave her, ran away, and never once looked back.

Now five years later he shows back up in her life after rejecting her five years ago, demanding that she take up her rightful place by his side. He walked away from her after calling her weak. No way was she going to just let him back into her life as if he belonged there. Rayne never wanted a mate, would he being here now change that? Her body and soul beg for him to claim her, yet her heart belongs to another.

Can her mate convince her to give him a chance? Will her lover convince her to stay with him? The Moon Goddess paired her with someone not of her choice, all Rayne has ever wanted was the chance to choose for herself. Who will win? Rayne or the fate that the moon set for her?

For mature readers 18+
Warning for abusive past trauma
Her Returned Mate is Book 1 in the Gathering Shadows Series. Book 2 His Redemption is also available for reading now on Anystories.

Three years of marriage. Harper gave up her career, cut off her friends, and made herself invisible for Evan.
Then on her birthday, the blow came. Claire showed up pregnant: "Mrs. Morgan's spot will be mine eventually. What's the point of you holding onto it?"
Harper finally woke up. She filed for divorce without looking back.
The day she signed the papers, she smiled calmly at the reporters waiting outside: "The reason for the divorce? Mr. Morgan was simply never able to satisfy me. In that department."
The untouchable CEO became a punchline overnight.
Evan assumed she was getting back at him. He had no idea Harper was no longer the caged bird he remembered.
Her design talent shook the industry. His own business rivals fell for her.
By the time he realized the partner he had been desperately chasing was his ex-wife, it was already too late.
"Harper, can we start over?"
"Mr. Morgan, if something's wrong with you, go see a doctor. Do you need me to pay for the appointment?"

Emery’s undying love for her late mother drove her to do things only a desperate person could understand. To save her mother’s company, she agreed to marry a man twice her age. There’s no way she could escape the miserable truth, but on the day of the wedding, she married the wrong groom who turned out to be the wealthiest man in the country.
It’s like the Heavens gave her another chance and she won’t let the chance slip away. However, can she withstand the tension whenever her fake husband is near her? What if she falls for him? Will he catch her? Or she’d fall into a more complicated situation?


Every man's dream was to watch their bride walk down the aisle towards them, however, the beautiful dream turned into a nightmare when Terrence found a different woman under the veil. His bride ran away and he was forced to marry a stranger. To make everything more complicated, he just got appointed as the company President and he needs to maintain a good reputation.
Keeping his fake bride by his side is the only choice left to him. However, how can he deal with his self-control when the woman he mistakenly married is a total goddess of temptation?

Two months before the cataclysm, Olivia Sterling wakes up from three years into the apocalypse.

Last time around, she clawed her way through an Echo-infested Manhattan for three years — from a nobody no one gave a second look, up to second-in-command of a survivor stronghold — and then she woke up again on the night the boss dropped dead. This time is different. She remembers the day the ash rain falls. She remembers the hour the bridges go under. She remembers exactly who is the first to cut through the electric fence around her estate.

So the first thing she does is liquidate.

A trust fund in the tens of billions, real estate on four continents, antiquities snatched out from under Sotheby's — all of it converted into grain, live cattle, pharmaceuticals, firearms. Plus an Absolute Space where time is frozen solid, a pizza still hot enough to burn your mouth a year after it goes in. The second thing she does is pull her best friend Rexie out of the Rikers Island psychiatric holding facility — the woman who stands six feet tall and swings an eighty-pound two-handed greatsword like it's a broom handle, and who one day will turn into a three-meter North American grizzly.

The crimson aurora falls, and order falls with it. Neighbors come knocking with knives. Armed crews come over the wall. Official broadcasts repeat, over and over, ‘’please trust us‘’. Olivia's answer is a high-voltage grid, a Damascus steel longsword, and one sentence: ‘’Private property. Trespassers die.‘’

From the Long Island estate to the Central Park refugee camp, from the cannibal gang's slaughterhouse under Brooklyn to the fortress basement where human beings are lab rats in a research center — she collects people, collects debts, collects payment. A time traveler who claims to be from the year 3000, a hyper-intelligent black bear who trades tricks for honey, a little mushroom that wiggles its stem whenever music plays — one by one, they all end up in her crew.

But what actually drags her forward is a pocket watch engraved with "133," and the fog out at sea that never lifts.

The truth behind her parents' disappearance, the human-shaped fruit the Divine Tree bears, the green-eyed child on the watch face — every thread leads to the same island.

And this time, she has no intention of merely surviving.

Five years in captivity. They said Nora would be free after five years of working for the mafia king but they lied. Now Nora is forced to work permanently for the dangerous mafia king, executing dangerous cons with Noah, her only ally and her most dangerous temptation. The one man who makes her feel human again. But in a world built on lies, trust can be deadlier than betrayal.

Betrayal has never struck so hard until that day I caught my fiancée and best friend cheating on me.

My world came crashing down beneath my feet, and I felt hopeless.

However, luck was on my side and I ended up having a one-night stand with a mysterious man.

Two months later, he showed up at my house with our marriage agreement and he turned out to be my ex-fiancée’s father.

Heartbroken and enraged with revenge, I acknowledged the marriage, desiring to make my ex-fiancée and my best friend pay for what they did to me.

Luckily, my ex-fiancée and best friend lives in the same house with us and revenge took a tremendous turn.

“Did you really think a human girl like me could fall for your little game, Roman?”

Ella was supposed to be the pathetic human girl the Alpha boys could toy with. A scholarship student among wealthy, pureblood werewolves, she had neither their power nor their status. But when she discovers Roman’s cruel bet to make her fall for him, she decides to turn his game against him.

With a carefully crafted innocent smile, a few perfectly timed tears, and a mind sharper than any wolf’s claws, Ella begins playing the players. The gifts meant to humiliate her become money for her mother’s medical bills—and the arrogant Alpha who wanted to break her starts craving her attention.

But Roman isn’t the only dangerous man watching her. Stellan, the cold and unreadable quarterback, seems to see through every lie she tells.

Ella thought she was controlling the game. So why are the Alpha boys suddenly fighting over her—and what happens when one of them discovers her real strategy?

In my last life, the heatwave collapse began with me turning an abandoned warehouse into a safe zone. I stocked it, fortified it, and brought my girlfriend inside. That same night, she slid the bolts open from within and let an armed crew storm the place. They threw me out to die.

I survived the heat, only to learn too late that it was just the warning. The real purge came next, when brutal cold hit overnight and froze me to death in the snow.

Then I opened my eyes and found myself back one month before disaster.

While everyone else rushed to buy water and fans, I was the only one who knew the heat was just the beginning. The deep freeze was what would really wipe people out.

This time, I explained nothing. I poured everything I had into diesel, insulation, winter stoves, generators, and turned that warehouse into a fortress built for the cold.

She came again, just like before. This time, I never let her through the door. So she ran straight to the armed gang and had them surround my warehouse for three full days.

She thought trapping me inside meant she’d already won.

What she didn’t know was that in just a few more days, the freeze would arrive.

And the people outside had no fuel, no winter gear, no way to stay warm.

They weren’t waiting for me to break.

They were waiting for their own deaths.

I was a herbalist, a healer who saved lives, but I was falsely accused of spreading plague and hanged on the gallows, awaiting the flames. Then I heard them—a swarm of rats emerging from the earth, gnawing through the noose and dragging me back to the world of the living. But this was not salvation, but the beginning of a curse. Plague swept across the land, the church peddled counterfeit medicines, and lords squeezed every last grain from the farmers. The rats looked at me and whispered to me — the end has come, and you will become the calamity.

When I crossed into this world, I was given a husband, a childhood sweetheart, and a brother.
I thought I would be happy for the rest of my life.
Then one day a woman caught their eye, and they were willing to hurt me for her.
I stopped hoping.
And the system asked whether I wanted to take back everything I had given them.
My CEO husband's brilliance and vision.
My superstar childhood friend's voice.
My painter brother's hands and inspiration.
Exhausted, I said: Yes. Take it all back.

I’m the only person on Earth with a clinically proven antibody capable of neutralizing this rare deadly virus.
I caught the virus when I was six. Its mortality rate was staggeringly high, and everyone thought I’d never pull through. Against all odds, I recovered entirely on my own. By some strange twist of biology, my body made the world’s sole antibody that could fight this virus off.
Once I turned eighteen, I signed up to donate my serum as a volunteer.
For twenty years straight, rain or shine, I showed up to donate free of charge—107 separate donations in total. Each time, I pulled a gravely ill patient back from death’s brink.
I’m no saint living to save the whole world. Every last donation was done for my mother.
Back when I was six, my father’s infidelity drove my mother to take her own life. What happened was cruel beyond measure, completely unforgivable.
A fortune-teller once told me my mom’s lingering resentment ran far too deep. To free her trapped, wandering soul for good, a blood relative of hers had to finish exactly 108 acts of good deeds.
Twenty years in, only one deed remained. Just one more, and my mother’s spirit could finally rest in peace.
But when the hospital sent out an urgent emergency SOS this time around, I did something I’d never done in two decades.
I turned their request down flat.

At the engagement party, Adrian walked in with pregnant Celeste: "Sorry, the engagement is off."

"Why?" I stared at him intently.

"The baby is Adrian's," Celeste sobbed, "I can't let my child grow up without a father..."

"You're just an orphan with no money or connections," Adrian looked at me coldly, "You're not good enough for me."

Just when I was completely humiliated, butler Steven found me. "Miss Hayes, we've been searching for you for twenty-three years. You're the long-lost heiress of Hayes Corporation."

A week later at the family reunion banquet, Adrian knelt before me: "Iris, please give me another chance!"

"You can stay by my side," I looked down at him condescendingly, "but not as my boyfriend—as my servant."

But when Celeste accidentally miscarried, the truth shocked everyone...

After the apocalypse, I joined my girlfriend and her friends as a makeshift team. I cleared infected, scavenged supplies, and stood guard at night so they could sleep.

I thought we were all each other had.

Then, for a single dose of antibiotics, they handed me to the warlord who slaughtered my entire family.

When she said, “Just endure it—I’ll find a way to bring you back,” I didn’t even have the strength to be angry. She knew exactly what stood between me and that warlord, and what would happen once I was taken.

That’s when it hit me: to them, I was always just a tool.

If she chose to deliver me into my enemy’s hands, I’d settle the three-year-old debt right there.

When we met again, she demanded to speak to the warlord chief—hoping to trade for me once more. Because without me, they couldn’t even find food.

What she didn’t know was that by the third day after she traded me away—

the warlord had a new owner.

For my fiancée’s career, I was willing to be the ghost designer behind her for five years.

Until the day of the key bid, she stole the blueprint I had spent two sleepless years perfecting and signed it with the name of her useless first love.

The drawings are gone You can draw them again He needs this project to survive Be sensible she said, impatient when I confronted her

I did not argue My heart went cold I calmly left my engagement ring and my resignation letter and went to Europe

In just three months, without me, she became disgraced and buried in debt While I won Europe’s highest architectural gold award

I watched the once proud her soak in icy water for five hours just to earn a trace of my sympathy

I handed her a basic junior interview form with indifference Want to start over Report to the front desk Start with errands and work your way up

On Valentine's Day, the Rogue King came to slaughter my mate, the Alpha of the Silvercrest pack, Adrian Barrett. But he wasn't home. He was busy celebrating with his childhood love, Celeste, leaving our five-year-old daughter at the assassin's mercy. To save her, I swallowed deadly wolfsbane.

"Daddy, please come home! Mommy is coughing blood!" Sophie sobbed into the phone.
"Stop lying just to ruin my night," Adrian snapped.
Before the line went dead, another little girl's voice chimed in. "Daddy Adrian, which dress should my mommy wear?"
"The red one, sweetheart," he cooed softly, and hung up.
I bled to death on our bed while he played perfect father to another woman's child.

But death wasn't the end. My spirit rose from my cooling corpse, forced to watch as my little girl learned a cruel truth: her father would always choose someone else.

My twin sister and I came back from the dead, and the first thing we did was trade mates.

Last life, we were sent off to be mated on the same day.

Juliet, soft-spoken and gentle, went north to Dane Halvorsen, the Alpha they call the Tyrant.

On their first bonding anniversary, he left her alone to spend his childhood friend's birthday with her instead. Juliet asked for one explanation. He said he had nothing to explain.

They lived like strangers for fifty years.

Me? I'd rather throw a punch than waste a sentence. I got Theo Ashby, a Sunhollow Beta.

He hated my loud mouth. Hated the motor oil under my nails. Hated that I never once wore a dress.

We fought every three days and screamed every five, until he stopped coming home.

Eleven months in, we broke the bond.

Then I opened my eyes, and Juliet and I were back on the morning we were sent away to be mated.

The day before Thanksgiving, my husband, David, dragged his suitcase to the airport, claiming he was flying to Seattle to meet an important client.
My parents took my younger brother to Miami for a vacation and conveniently took my six-year-old daughter with them.
With the house empty, I picked up a last-minute catering shift that paid double the usual hourly rate. I needed the extra money to cover next month's rent and buy David a gift. So I temporarily filled in as a dinner server at a mansion in Beverly Hills.
After changing into a black-and-white uniform, I entered the employer's home through the service entrance.
The person in charge was the lady of the house—a young, beautiful blonde.
She had barely led me through the hallway toward the main room when I saw several workers hanging a massive engagement portrait on the central wall.
The man in the photograph, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, was my husband of six years.
David.
I froze where I stood, my mind going completely blank.
"Move it a little to the left. Yes, that's it. Straighten it!" the blonde girl called out to the workers.
Then she turned toward me.
"What? Can't take your eyes off it? That's my fiancé."
She looked me up and down, her voice dripping with condescending, fake sympathy.
"Working on a major holiday? I guess you're not married yet."
I closed my eyes and took a slow, deep breath. "I am. But I'll be a widow very soon."

In my past life, my twin Phaedra and I were both married off to the Dragon Clan on the same day.
I was given to the eldest son Magnus, while she went to the second son Drakon.
A year later, Phaedra gave birth to a small white dragon with scales like fresh snow. Meanwhile, I delivered nine children—all of them deformed monsters, bearing not a trace of dragon lineage.
Dragon King Typhon, a tyrant obsessed with bloodline purity and beauty, immediately stripped his eldest son of the inheritance rights and decided to pass the throne to his second son, Drakon.
Consumed by rage and humiliation, my husband Magnus descended into madness.
He ordered my nine children dragged into the Shadow Abyss and thrown into boiling blood pools as sacrificial offerings. Then he bound me tightly to the frozen altar pillar.
As the crimson winds howled from the blood pool, he mercilessly cut open my chest and carved out my nine-tailed heart while I was still breathing. I drew my last breath drowning in endless despair and blood.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in the Dragon Clan's towering hall—at the mate selection ceremony that had sealed our fates.
In my daze, Magnus walked straight past me. His eyes brimmed with disgust as he unhesitatingly reached for Phaedra's hand instead. The same woman who had birthed that perfect white dragon in my past life.
But the fool had no idea my children's deformities had nothing to do with me—they came from his own cursed, rotting bloodline.

"What if she finds out the baby she suffered so much to conceive is actually ours? Will she lose her mind?"

My stepsister giggled, snuggling into my husband’s embrace.

I stood outside the cracked door, completely frozen.

My husband was holding her tight, enthusiastically picking out names for the baby growing in my belly.

My own mother scoffed from the side. "Relax. That idiot will never figure out she’s carrying your baby."

A bone-deep chill shot down my spine.

For years, I had endured endless blood tests and painful injections, leaving my stomach bruised with needle marks—all just to give him a child.

Instead, they had bribed the doctors. Using IVF, they secretly turned me into a surrogate for my husband and my stepsister.

My husband was certain I was too soft-hearted. He knew that even if the plot was exposed, I could never bring myself to destroy an innocent life.

He was absolutely right.

But I could destroy myself.

In the dead of night, I walked out to the edge of the bridge, climbed over the freezing metal railing, and plummeted into the icy, pitch-black water below.

Two years later. An elite gala.

Under the dazzling spotlight, I stood completely reborn.

My ex-husband dropped his wine glass, letting it shatter against the floor as he collapsed softly to his knees, desperately clutching the hem of my gown.

I coldly pulled my dress from his trembling grasp.

"Excuse me, sir," I said, staring down at him. "You have the wrong person."

I was reborn.
In my past life, for the sake of my childhood sweetheart Chiara, I rushed into a sea of fire to save her lover, but I was disfigured by strong acid. In return, I was rejected and abandoned by her, and ultimately died tragically on the street.
Reborn before the narcotics factory explosion, I coldly turned away from Chiara's pleas for help: "If it's true love, go in and die with her."
This time, I'm not a sycophant anymore; I'm going to make all those who betrayed me pay a bloody price.

I was blown up by my business partner and fiancée working together, only to wake up in an apocalyptic game where only one person can survive. They drew S-rank abilities and mocked my "worthless" wealth card. But they forgot—in a world with physical rules, money can buy sky cities, EMP bombs, and orbital weapons. Now they're kneeling in ruins begging me to open the door, while I stand atop Avalon City at 30,000 meters, finger hovering over the detonation button.

I have a cursed gift—
I can hear the voices of antiques.
A blackened silver spoon screams.
A rusted pocket watch groans.
And at London’s most exclusive blind auction, when that so-called million-pound royal jewelry box encrusted with rubies and sapphires was rolled onto the stage, my mind went completely silent.
Those dozens of dazzling gemstones were all fake glass that could not speak.
Instead, from a brass compartment hidden in the very bottom of the box came an agonized roar:
“Get me out of here… now…”
I smiled.
Europe’s number-one appraiser?
Today I’d show him what it really meant to listen to all things.

Three months after being reunited with the Harrington family, I won £5 million in the lottery.

Then, they kicked me out of the house.

My father, my mother, and that imposter brother—three swindlers—fabricated an apocalyptic lie and used a so-called "heirloom" to steal my lottery ticket.

They didn't know that the end times really were coming.

Unbeknownst to them, the true power of that wristband was—item duplication.

Little did they know, I was the one who had truly been reborn from the apocalypse.

In my past life, they used me as bait, letting me be torn to pieces by the infected.

In this life, 5 million pounds? Go ahead and squander it.

I want to watch them struggle in despair and die in fear.

And I will have unlimited resources at my disposal, on this wasteland—

Betrayed and killed by the wolf king in my past life, I came back from hell. On the wedding day, I turned down his proposal without hesitation. I made a blood pact with his greatest enemy—the vampire king. Together, we avenged my child and family, and built a new future in the dark.

I was three months pregnant when I found out my husband had been cheating with the cousin I had kindly taken in.

My son said he wanted her to be his mom, then shoved me down the stairs and caused me to miscarry.

The day I lost the baby, my husband sat beside my bed. His voice was gentle, soft enough to lull someone to sleep.

“Relax,” he said. “You’ll forget all this pain.”

I closed my eyes and let him plant layer after layer of hypnotic commands in my ear.

“When you wake up, you’ll be an obedient wife.”

Now I watch them living happily ever after as a family of three.

They think I’m nothing but an empty shell.

They have no idea that I’ve already posted this plea for help online:

[HELP] My cousin is wearing my sexy nightgown to seduce my husband, I caught them cheating, and my son calls her “Mom.” But I just feel numb. What am I supposed to do?

I died on the operating table—my heart cut out, my unborn child destroyed, my identity stolen by the woman who replaced me.
Now I'm back. At the exact moment they're celebrating my replacement's victory, I step out of the shadows and into the light of my own funeral.
Tonight, I will not beg. I will not cry. I will not give them the satisfaction of watching me break.
Tonight, I become the nightmare they've been running from. For twenty years, they treated me like I was invisible. Let me show them what happens when you ignore the one person who could destroy everything you built.
I am Serena Astor.
The rightful heir.
And I will have my revenge.

In my past life, I was framed by my girlfriend and her unrequited lover, losing my job and being silenced! Reborn a week earlier, I've decided to retaliate! On the surface, I'm still the devoted boyfriend, but secretly, I've laid a trap. When the scumbag thought he'd succeeded, he found himself surrounded by the FBI; when the scheming woman thought she'd risen to power, she became a pariah. And I, not only did I successfully avenge myself, but I also built a multi-billion dollar business empire! In this life, I'll make everyone who betrayed me understand—if you mess with Marcus Sterling, you'll pay the price!

Four years ago, I left my boyfriend when he had nothing.

Now, he's a billionaire. And he's forcing me to marry him—just for revenge.

Every day it's a different girl. Now there's a pregnant influencer he flaunts in my face, destroying what's left of my dignity.

"Kneel and beg her, and I'll give you money." He holds another woman and smirks at me.

I don't cry. I don't scream. I just swallow the blood rising in my throat.

He doesn't know my brain tumor is terminal. I have thirty days left.

I've already signed the organ donation papers. I just want to die in peace.

I stopped loving him a long time ago.

Four years ago, I got mauled by a rogue wolf saving my Beta husband Derek. The attack left me unable to carry pups.

He held me that night, covered in my blood, and swore through tears that kids never mattered to him anyway.

Four years later, he's sleeping with Paige, a she-wolf I took in out of kindness six months back.

"Every family needs an heir. You can't give me one, so Paige offered. Just accept it and keep being my mate."

Paige, eyes brimming with tears, insisted she only wanted to repay my kindness. The baby would call me mother. She'd never try to take my place.

I almost laughed. Since when does anyone repay a favor by climbing into bed with the man who took her in?

I refused. He brought my parents and my brother into it to force my hand.

I didn't waste another word on him. I severed the bond and moved my whole family out to Moonhaven Pack on the coast.

Turns out nobody leaves a single she-wolf alone, no matter where she goes. Thugs kept showing up outside my door, stirring up trouble.

Right when things get unbearable, a big guy shows up out of nowhere and beats the group of them into running for their lives.

He's tall, scars all over his arms. He looks me over for a long moment, then says, "I need a wife to look after my two kids. Marry me. I'll protect your whole family."

My childhood fiancé chose my best friend in his family's sacred bridal draw, then told me I could still live with him—as his mistress.
He wanted her as his wife and me running his empire.
I refused.
If I couldn't be his wife, I'd be his worst nightmare.
In seven days, I'm marrying his ruthless uncle.
Let's see if he still wants me as his dirty secret when he has to bow his head and call me “Aunt Serena.”

For six years, my mother Isolde believed I had committed an unforgivable sin. Under the guise of "reforming my character," she continuously injected me with neurotoxic antibiotics, confining me to a wheelchair to act as a crippled companion to my sister, Alondra.
My entire family silently condoned this punishment, favoring my sister who was merely faking her paralysis. I had long since surrendered all my dignity, numbly enduring every injustice.
On my nineteenth birthday, I humbly begged her to stop the injections for just one day. I didn't want to look pathetic in front of my childhood sweetheart, Joren.
Moments later, I uncovered the cruel truth on the balcony: my sister’s legs had healed long ago. Six years of agony had been nothing but a staged performance.
The long-accumulated drug toxicity suddenly erupted inside my body. I tumbled to the floor together with my wheelchair. Summoning the last ounce of my strength, I managed to reach a bottle of pills meant to alleviate the toxicity.
As my consciousness faded, a faint, hopeless wish lingered in my heart: I thought that if I just fell asleep, I might regain feeling in my legs when I woke up.
When I opened my eyes again, I realized with horror—I was already dead.

On our tenth anniversary, a doctor told me I had three months left.
I called Graham five times before he picked up. He was at a restaurant downtown, cutting the steak on his ex-girlfriend's plate, and he told me to stop acting like a paranoid wife.
So I never told him.
I folded the diagnosis into my coat pocket, went home, and rinsed the blood out of the sink before he walked in. Then I signed away the house, the cars, every share of the firm I helped him build. I left his ring on the coffee table, canceled the number I'd had for ten years, and checked into a hospice with nobody's name on my emergency contact line.
He thought I was throwing a tantrum. He thought I'd come crawling back the second the money ran out.
He didn't find the diagnosis until it was too late to matter.

For three years, the whole school thought I loved privileged golden boy Sebastian Grayson. I covered his mistakes, took his punishments, and single-handedly turned his rebellious self into a Harvard admit, enduring endless mockery for my one-sided devotion.
Yet every obedient act was never love — only a contract deal.
When we reunite at a Harvard banquet two years later, Sebastian craves a second chance.
But he is too late. I will never return.