3637 Book(s) Related to my brothers dote on me novel

I was supposed to be the best man, but when the bride ran away, I was forced to walk down the aisle and marry the arrogant billionaire I despised the most.

The hall was breathtaking. White lilies, crystal chandeliers, and rows of expectant faces waiting for my sister. Instead, they got me. I walked down the aisle with a single flower, a smug grin on my face hiding the absolute panic tearing through my chest.

At the altar stood Rowan Hale. Always perfect. Always in control. Except right now, his hands were clenched into fists so tight his knuckles were white. He was furious.

By the time I reached him, his patience had evaporated. He grabbed my hand in a bone-crushing grip that almost made me swear in front of the priest.

"You sure took your time crawling up here," Rowan whispered, his voice low and dangerous. "Who do you think you are to keep me waiting?"

I managed a sickeningly bright smile. "I didn't know you were this eager to marry me."

I thought he would punch me. I wanted him to. We had been rivals for years, hating each other's guts in the entertainment industry. But instead, his cool mask fell back into place. He slid the heavy wedding band onto my finger, his thumb deliberately pressing into my skin.

"Smile," Rowan whispered against my ear, his breath hot and sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. "Don't want anyone to think you're doing this against your will."

"That wouldn't be further from the truth," I retorted, trying to pull away.

But Rowan’s hand curled completely around my waist, his grip possessive and unyielding. "You will do as you're told, husband."

I thought this fake marriage was just a business deal. I thought we would divorce in a year. But when he dragged me into the hotel penthouse that night and locked the door behind us... I realized Rowan Hale had no intention of ever letting me go.

When hot-headed rogue Alpha: Reid Hades gets accepted into Northlands Crest University, Lyra Durin, the Vice Chancellor’s daughter, is far from thrilled.

Not just because he once coldly rejected her on the same night she failed to shift, but because he’s now living under her family’s roof.

When Lyra’s world shatters after catching her chosen mate in bed with her foster sister, she tries to punish the two betrayers using a revenge spell. But that spell backfires, restoring her mate bond with Reid instead. The only way out? Their hatred for each other has to overpower the strength of the bond.

The only question is… do they truly hate each other like they claim to do? Or is it all a facade?

A good girl like Lyra has no business getting involved with a bad boy like Reid, especially one with a past as dark as his. Reid is cursed and banished from his pack by his father, after murdering his own mother and attempting to kill his father’s second Luna again.

But secrets don’t stay buried for long, and the harder Lyra tries to hate him, the closer fate pulls them together.

He’s the last guy she should ever fall for.

She’s the only girl he can’t stay away from.

And in a house full of lies, rules, and deceit, love becomes the most dangerous rebellion of all.

How much of Reid’s darkness can Lyra handle before it finally consumes her? Can they really spare themselves from each other before the bond turns permanent?

My name is Emma. I used to be an interior designer with my own studio. To support my husband’s startup, I shut it all down, stepping into the shadows to become a full-time housewife.

On my birthday—our third wedding anniversary—he slammed divorce papers on the table.

He told me he had fallen in love with someone else: his subordinate, the woman who had been a constant fixture in our home lately.

But there was one crucial detail he missed.

She never joined his company for him.

She was my junior in college, the most fiercely loyal admirer of my design work. She didn't take that job or frequent our house because she was enamored with him. She did it to track me down, desperate to ask if I would ever design again.

And that man? Right up until the ink dried on those divorce papers, he smugly believed he was just dumping a mediocre, chore-bound wife.

He had no idea that the moment I picked up my drawing pen again, the housewife he looked down on would become a business rival entirely out of his league.

At the Falcone estate's riding ring, I watched my eight-year-old son Leo mount Starlight, preparing for the most important performance of his young life.
Before the third obstacle, the horse spooked. The instant Leo was thrown, I rushed forward to shield him—the cost was three shattered ribs and a kicked left lung.
When I woke from unconsciousness, I found myself in Dante's private clinic downstairs. From the adjacent room came the doctor's angry voice: "We agreed this was just a marrow extraction. Why did you set up what happened with the horse?"
My husband Dante Falcone's response made my blood run cold: "Leo was Mia's donor. Now that the procedure is complete, there's no point in continuing treatment. Mia is the real heir."
Eight years of marriage. I'd always believed that beneath Dante's cold exterior, Leo was still a son he treasured.
Only now did I understand—from the moment of his birth, Leo had been nothing more than a living donor prepared for his stepsister Mia.
The cruelest irony? Mia, the girl Dante loved so deeply, wasn't even his biological daughter.

My name is Dafu, I am a dog, and I can smell death.

Sweet, cloying spores and a metallic, fishy stench seeped in through the cracks in the door.
The owner's friend was crying and calling for help outside the door , but all I could hear from my nostrils was the gurgling of mucus and the rustling of fungal hyphae climbing—
The person outside had no heartbeat.

The owner ultimately decided to open the door and rescue the person .
no!

I bit his hand tightly , my eyes pleading desperately—
Master, trust me !
That thing outside the door! It's not a person at all!

Six months after our bonding ceremony, I was ambushed by rogue wolves while searching for rare herbs in the Black Forest.
Their poisoned claws shredded my abdomen—and with it, any chance of ever carrying pups.
But my mate held my hand and wept. My mother swore she'd save me. My father said everything would be fine.
How pathetic—
Right before they wheeled me into surgery, I heard them through a cracked door, calmly discussing how to harvest my heart for the adopted sister who'd been waiting six months.
Turns out the "accident" was a gift from my loving family of four.
Turns out the last six months of "coming home" was just them fattening up my heart for harvest.
What they don't know? The voice memo on my phone caught everything.
What they really don't know? Six months from now, I'm coming back—
With a Dark Moon Alliance badge. And a heart much colder than the one they stole.
Shh. Listen.
That stolen heart? It's starting to reject.

In my previous life, I gave the SS-class Furnace Fortress to my sister, and she turned around and stabbed me in the back.
After being reborn, she wanted to take my forest . I smiled and said, "Fine, it's all yours."
This time, I chose the SS-class Forge Fortress.
And I want her to die crying in the yellow sand.

The first time the system appeared, I thought it was a scam.
One wish per day, it said. Anything I wanted.
So I tested it with a hundred dollars.
That night, my mother handed me one bill. Then she smiled and told me she had bought my stepsister Mia a jacket worth two hundred.
That was when fifteen years of “coincidences” turned into math.
Every wish I had ever made came true.
And every time, Mia got double.
Toys. Shoes. Rooms. Phones. Love.
For years, I thought I was the daughter who was harder to love.
Then I realized the universe had been listening to me all along.
And for the first time, I wondered what would happen if I wished for something cruel.

Labeled a timid failure unfit for the stage, Maya is publicly humiliated and mocked by debate club vice president Blair. To save her, her best friend Chloe lies that ordinary vitamin C is a calming pill. Empowered by false confidence, Maya overcomes her fears and dominates the school debate finals with sharp logic. When the truth comes out, everyone realizes her stunning victory stems not from drugs, but from her own hidden talent and courage.

Seven years ago, Ronan Blackwood—Alpha of the Beastman Clan—endured 999 lashes and defied the Council's exile to bond with me, a human.

He swore before the gods I'd be his only mate, forever.

But when his childhood sweetheart Camilla was diagnosed with terminal cancer, he dissolved our soul-bond at the Underground Court.

Then he handed me a glowing vial—the Seven-Day Oblivion.

"Sia, I need seven days to give Camilla a proper bonding ceremony before she dies. This potion will make you forget me temporarily. No pain, no memories. After the ceremony, you'll take the antidote and love me again. Then we'll re-bond."

He promised this separation was temporary. That I'd still be his only true mate.

What he didn't know: the potion was forbidden. There was no antidote.

I stared into those amber eyes that once bled for me—and swallowed it anyway.

In seven days, I'll forget him completely.

The day the promotion list went public, a photo popped up in the company's all-staff Slack channel.
In the photo, my profile nearly overlapped with a scantily dressed girl, the background a dimly lit Manhattan nightclub.
Immediately after, Brad added a caption:
[No wonder Harper landed Richard's M&A deal. Last night's 'overtime' must have been rough, huh?]
Less than ten seconds after he sent it, the message still hung there in the channel. No retraction.
The chat that had just been flooding with "congrats Harper" messages went dead silent.
In my past life, my head buzzed. I thought no one would take such a cheap joke seriously.
But within two days, the company's internal anonymous forum exploded with accusations, complete with photos and "proof."
They said I slept with clients to win the merger deal. That I secured my full-time offer by sleeping my way up. That my personal life was a mess, that I was trash.
My mother collapsed from a heart attack when she heard. She never woke up.
Later, my promotion was revoked. HR suspended me for "damaging company reputation."
I was slut-shamed, radioactive across the entire finance industry — no firm on the Street would touch me.
Within a month, I spiraled from depression to sleepless nights, and finally jumped from the rooftop of my Brooklyn apartment.
Before I lost consciousness, my phone was still buzzing.
"Did they fire her yet? People like that don't belong on Wall Street."
When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at the blinking Slack messages on my screen.

In order to raise the surgical fees for my "blind" boyfriend, I dedicated three entire years to scrubbing toilets.

I believed I was his eyes, the sole beacon of light in his world of darkness.

Until his birthday arrived, I was confronted with the sight of that "incapable" man—who required my assistance even to drink water—coddling his ex-girlfriend while flirting.

"That fool is still busy cleaning toilets," he chuckled with a patronizing grin, brandishing my late mother's memento to charm that woman. "After all, she outshone you at Parsons. Let her serve me like a dog for three years—that'll be her punishment."

It dawned on me that my sacrifices were but fodder for their idle amusement.

Drying my tears, I turned and dialed the number I had blocked for three years—the one belonging to the fiancé who controlled an entire business empire.

"Sebastian, about that arranged marriage... I accept."

My pack's golden girl—my adopted sister—vanished. On my eighteenth birthday—the day my wolf should have awakened—my parents dragged me to a witch.
"Show us what you did to her."
Fine. Let them look.
Let them see who drugged me the day I came home. Who stole credit while I bled. Who smiled while planning my destruction.
They chose their precious Rosalie over me for three years.
They wanted the truth?
They were about to choke on it.

To buy the sky-high-price cake for my blind piano prodigy girlfriend, I swallowed my pride and scrubbed toilets for three months.
But returning home early with the cake, I found her, who was supposed to be groping in the dark, entangled with her rich ex-boyfriend.
Her eyes were clear, and her face was full of sneering mockery: "Isn't letting this design genius serve me like a dog for three years the perfect punishment for him always outshining you?"
I stood in the chilly wind outside the door. So, the deep affection and despair of these three years were all just an act she put on to please her ex.
Calmly, I threw the cake box into the trash. I pulled out my phone and sent a text to the number I had blocked for three years:
"Cecilia, I accept your marriage proposal."

The boy I grew up with was this town's star quarterback.

Everyone saw him as the golden boy.

Yet, for a delinquent, he willingly threw away his athletic career and plunged headfirst into the local drug ring.

Desperate to pull him back from the edge, I tipped off the police about the drug den, hoping it would be his wake-up call.

Instead, he hated me to the bone for it.

To prove his loyalty to his "true love"—and to punish me—he gave our home security code to a crew of methed-up thugs.

They broke in and put a bullet through my parents' heads, wiping out my entire family.

It wasn't until I took a bullet to the chest and lay choking on my own blood, staring at a mocking text from him, that I finally woke up.

But fate, it turns out, decided to give me a second chance.

I loved Damien for ten years. Ten years, right up until the moment he took the heart that was supposed to save our daughter and gave it to someone else's child.

Lily was only seven. She was terrified of the dark, terrified of pain. She never got that heart. She just faded, right there in that hospital bed.

And Damien was down the hall, celebrating someone else's miracle.

He had no idea what I was holding when he finally came home. He had no idea my stomach cancer had already hit the final stage.

There was nothing left in this world worth staying for.

So this time, I didn't yell. I didn't cry.

I just slid the divorce papers across the table.

He thought I was bluffing.

But this time, I had nothing left to lose.

"Camille! Get over here!" my husband Arthur screamed, clutching his mistress tightly in his arms.
In my past life, he charged into the flames to save her—while I burned alive trying to save him.
The moment I died, he wasted no time using my life insurance money to throw her the wedding of the century, right at my family's winery.
This life?
"I'm going to get help," I said, and walked away.
Behind me, something massive came crashing down. His scream tore through the smoke.
I didn't look back.

The smell of antiseptic, the sharp sting of restraints biting into my flesh, and the pitying look on Silas's face as he stood by my hospital bed.
"Maeve, you're so sick. The baby is just a hallucination."
In my last life, consumed by despair and self-doubt, I threw myself off the roof of the psychiatric hospital.
But now, my eyes snapped open, my hands instinctively flying to protect my stomach.
My baby is still here!
I'm back—exactly one week before my child disappeared.

The winter I was eight, I found my own face in a trash can.
It was on a missing-child flyer. The girl on it had been gone five years. She had a birthmark on the back of her neck.
So did I.
There was a reward. A number with a long row of zeros. I didn't want it.
I was cold. I hadn't eaten since yesterday.
I just wanted a mom.
So that night, with a stranger's coins, I called the number at the bottom.
A woman answered on the first ring and screamed a name at me like it was mine.
She got to say it three times.
Then a hand came out of the dark behind me and hung up the phone for me.

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

In my past life, I was pregnant and met a gruesome end, torn apart by the mad dog my cop husband kept, taking both my life and my baby's.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I discovered I was pregnant.
My seemingly perfect husband, the epitome of a good man, smiled as he brought me muffins laced with rat poison. My seemingly kind in-laws watched me intently, eager for me to swallow the deadly treat...
That's when it hit me: the perfect marriage I thought I had was actually a family conspiracy for murder!
This time, I refuse to be the lamb led to slaughter. If you want my life and my child's, then you'll all be begging for mercy in hell!

I have been the Donna of the Smith family for nine years-all in name. I took my deceased twin sister Lily's place, caring for her daughter Emma, and living with a husband, David, who doesn't love me.

Over these nine years, I treated Emma like my own daughter, but she always saw me as the murderer who killed her mother, not knowing that it was her mother who took my marriage and my husband.

She shoved me publicly, calling me a murderer, even using the gun I gave her to shoot my only solace—a little bird.

But David, the man I loved, also favors Lily and her child. Every time he looks at me, it's with coldness and distance.

I lost my heart to Vincent the moment I stepped into the Johnson family.
A Don thirty years older than me.
I knew this love was forbidden. Twisted. Ridiculous.
But I still chose to risk everything for it.
I deliberately got close to his son, Leon—the spoiled, reckless golden boy he treasured most. I tempted him, led him on, and step by step, just as I had planned, I married my way into the Johnson family as Leon’s wife.
On my wedding night, I climbed into Vincent’s bed.
In this scheme disguised as love, Vincent fell just as hard as I did.
And inside me, his child quietly began to grow.
A scorching, warped affair took root in the Johnson estate and spread like wildfire.

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.”

In the wasteland era, the soil is dead. Whoever can grow food is king.
In my last life, my brother gave me the spore we had nearly died to get, and the two of us awakened plant-growing powers together.
But every grain he grew was full and perfect, and the leader placed him on a pedestal; everything I grew was poisonous, and I was mercilessly cast out as worthless.
It wasn't until I died that I learned the truth: his power was never plant-growing, but transfer.
As long as he had eaten the spore, he could transfer away all the crops I grew.
When I got a second chance, I returned to the very day my so-called brother tried to shove the spore into my mouth.
This time, I slammed into him, knocked the spore to the ground, and crushed it under my foot.

Three years ago, I gave my grieving boss $6,000 for her husband’s funeral. The office called me a fool in love. She called me into her office—and fired me.
Then Claire appeared in my city with a suitcase, an apology, and an offer to start over.
I almost believed she had come back for me.
Until I overheard her whispering to a sick child about finding his real father.
Claire hadn’t returned alone. She had twins, one of them was dying, and the man who could save him might be me.

Some rules are meant to keep us pure. These stories spread your legs and make you beg to break them.

Stepbrothers who shouldn’t touch you, but shove you against the wall and make you scream their name.

Protectors who swear to guard your body, only to break every oath as they fuck you into the mattress.

Strangers who taste like sin and don’t stop until you’re ruined.

Masked lovers who hide their faces while they spread you open and make you beg.

Even supernatural beasts who mark you, breed you, and take you raw until you’re theirs completely.

This isn’t sweet romance. It is raw heat that claws, bites, and devours.

Dangerous, possessive men you should run from, but instead, you’ll spread wider, sink deeper, and take every filthy drop they give you.

Every page is a dare: moan louder, take more, surrender deeper. Because once you give in to the forbidden, you won’t just fall, you’ll beg to be destroyed.

Welcome to your new addiction.

At thirty-five, I finally die— only to wake up as Isabella Montague, the stunning heroine of a fantasy novel I wrote as a stupid teen.

My plan? A world-class retirement involving heavy naps and bottomless snacks.

But the 'perfect' men I created are ruining the plan.

The brooding Northern Duke won't stop watching me. The Golden Prince is convinced my disinterest is actually a challenge. My knight—and best friend—is ready to burn the world down if I so much as yawn. And a certain Elven noble who swore off humans keeps finding excuses to be near my tea.

They want my heart. I just want my pillow.

Too bad the world is cursed, the Queen wants me dead, and everyone keeps trying to put me on a throne I never asked for.

Can't a girl just chill?

Noah Martin is the most handsome physics instructor at his college. Of course, being an ex-model helps a bit in that department. He is engaged to a beautiful and talented designer, Olivia Wilson. They have a newborn daughter, Amelia, and are extremely busy with both of their careers. With the stress of everyday life and their newborn baby… they begin to just live together and not really be together. They skirt around the main issue between them and find excuses to not talk about it. When Noah’s coworker, Lea, and Olivia’s main male model, Adam, show up to tempt them… they are forced to deal with their relationship problems head on.

Warnings: Sexual Content, Cheating, Manipulation.

Suggested Age: 18+

Tell Me it Gets Easier: When a Relationship is Worth Saving is created by Minette Enfers, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

Melia Bournemouth thought she had lost everything when her father died and a tragic accident left her in a wheelchair.

Her only comfort was her devoted husband, Mathew. But when Melia discovers Mathew is secretly liquidating her last remaining assets to build a life with his pregnant mistress, her grief turns into cold, hard rage.

Desperate for retribution, Melia turns to the only man Mathew fears: Illya Cosgrave, a ruthless and dangerous billionaire with a dark reputation. But as they plot to dismantle Mathew’s empire from the shadows, Melia realizes Illya isn't just a weapon for revenge. He harbors a secret connection to her past that changes everything.

Now, Melia must decide: will she remain the victim, or will she rise from her chair and burn her ex-husband’s world to the ground?

I was cursed, trapped in a "Trial of Sincerity"—I could only regain my freedom if she spoke the words "I love you" from the bottom of her heart.
For five years, I’ve taken bullets for her, gone to prison for her, and stood on the brink of death four times. She would only call me "my best friend" or say "I need you," but she never uttered those three words.
Four times, she abandoned me as I lay dying, rushing instead to the side of another man.
The fifth time, with a bullet in my abdomen and my insides exposed, I lay on the operating table. She finally wept, screaming "I love you"—once, twice... twelve times in total.
Too bad. After waking up from that fourth brush with death, I had already signed a Do-Not-Resuscitate (DNR) order.
This time, my heart has stopped beating. Not because of my wounds, but because I’ve made my choice: I won't let her save me.

I loved Finley for two years.
Until 1:00 AM on a Tuesday, when his best friend, Orion, sent me a half-naked photo and a jarring voice note."
If I actually bag her, don't go flipping out on me. A deal's a deal."
I booked the first flight out to confront him, only to catch the boy I loved naked and thrusting into another woman.
But that wasn't even the part that broke me.
When my roommate bypassed the hockey team's private Discord server, I found a channel named: #locker-room-bets.
There was my boyfriend, typing the words that shattered my world: "She's boring... She's like a lost puppy, you can't shake her... Play with her all you want."
My loyalty and two years of my life were nothing but a sick joke.
The entire hockey team had put money down on when I would willingly spread my legs for his best friend.

My boyfriend's mistress deliberately gave me a strawberry cake that I'm allergic to.
After I went into anaphylactic shock and had a miscarriage, I knew it was all over.
But when I left it all behind and went back to my hometown, he showed up at my door telling me to quit throwing a fit, that he still loved me.
This kind of love full of betrayal?
I don't want it.

Five years ago, Leo, the overlord of the abyss who ruled the seven seas, went into hiding and worked as a cook in a dilapidated tavern to save his savior.
When his benefactor was captured by the empire and was about to be executed, the arrogant governor forced him to crawl between his legs in order to see him.
He did as instructed, but was then tricked.
That night, a bone conch shell resounded throughout the seven seas, thousands of ghost warships besieged the city, and the kings of the underworld knelt in unison.
The former "scale-scraping chef" broke through the palace gates, cut through his shackles with a single stroke, and embraced the beauty: "I'll take you home for grilled fish, it's on me."

In his eyes, I had always been "understanding." Understanding enough not to fight, not to make scenes, not to ask for status.

He said we couldn't go public now, but it was for our future.

Only later did I realize that his "future" never included me.

He chose power, chose arranged marriage, chose to keep me hidden. When I finally left, he started having regrets, started saying he loved me.

But by then I understood—he wasn't regretting losing me. He panicked because I was no longer obedient, no longer his.

So I never gave him another chance. I turned and walked away.

But that was only the first step.

I chose to let the truth surface at his moment of greatest triumph, to let him taste what it feels like to lose everything.

Warning: Contains strong language, smuts, abuse and some really explicit content, please read at your risk. "Let go of me…" Arabella said. She grimaced, shaking her head. "Do you think I would let you go so easily?" He questioned, then tutted. Sandro's nostrils flared as he sniffed her hair wrapped in his hands, Vanilla and Strawberry. The innocent yet naughty scent he remembered her with. "That would never happen, Cara Mia." Arabella gasped as Sandro pressed his body into hers. She moved to shove him away but he grasped her hands and pinned them above her head before pointing the gun at her temple. Arabella shut her eyes tightly as the gun cocked. She inhaled and bit her tongue whilst saying her last prayer inwardly. She wanted to run far away from him. Away from the surface of the earth if possible. But she was certain no matter how far she went, he was going to find her. ------------------------------------- Arabella's life took a u-turn after falling into her enemy's hand. She should feel nothing for him, however. He made her lose all her senses, even her clothes. At the mercy of her foe, she discovers some secrets about him and wishes to unravel more, but got what she didn't bargain for. Alessandro, an Alpha werewolf assuming the identity of a mafia Lord. He was the most wanted criminal in COOAN, and his name incites fear in all werewolves' packs. He was a man fighting his demons and needs a saviour before he drowns. After a traumatic childhood event that left him scarred, Blaze often kept to himself and trusted no one until he met Arabella, whom he believed was the perfect mate sent to him by the moon's goddess. However, she was taken. The powerful urge to save her from her...

I killed my fated mate to survive.

Beta Shax Wulfric was the pack’s most ruthless hunter, sent to drag me back in chains. So I ended him. Or I thought I did.

Months later, he finds me again. Alive. Amnesiac. And utterly convinced I’m his wife… and the child in my arms is ours.

Now the monster who once rejected and humiliated me looks at me like I’m his entire world. He touches me like I’m something precious.

If he remembers, he’ll kill me.
If he doesn’t, I might fall for him all over again.

The Koch family is the oldest family in the Blue Star Kingdom. As the new generation heir, Chad Koch has encountered many women—some attracted to his wealth, others to his looks, but none genuinely cared for him as a person. Consequently, Chad Koch has perpetually upheld a demeanor of aloofness towards the fairer sex.
Amidst a twist of fate, Daphne emerges as the savior of Chad Koch's venerable grandfather.
Thus unfolds the tale of emotional intricacies between a haughty scion of royalty and a humble maiden of the farmlands.

He once swore the whole world to me，yet he threw me aside without a second thought，all for his precious adopted sister.
He trampled on my love, ruined my youth, and let me fall into the abyss alone while doting on another woman.
Years later, I return from the ashes, powerful and cold.
I will step into his world, shatter his fame, destroy his fortune, and take away everything he holds dear.
He abandoned me for his adopted sister.
Now, I am his inevitable ruin.

I’m a werewolf.

Three months ago, I got involved in a back-alley “not my problem”—a man held a knife to a woman clutching her child. I rushed him and tore his throat out with my teeth.

Now the police are hunting me. My pack can’t protect me. The only option left is to slip out of the country.

The fixer at the meet hands me a bottle of “calming meds,” says it’ll get me through the checkpoints.

I smell the drugs anyway. I drink it.

When I wake up, my hands are tied behind my back inside a sealed metal cargo truck. Someone beside me is crying. Someone else is shaking.

That’s when I realize I’ve been sold into a trafficking ring. They slap a number tag on me, lock me in a steel cage, and wait for dawn to ship us out.

A guard cracks my face with a rifle stock—sure I’m just another desperate man trying to disappear.

He has no idea a cage can’t hold a werewolf.

Especially not tonight—under a full moon.

There was a project at our company that promised a £50,000 bonus upon completion.
As the lead planner, I had worked my fingers to the bone for over half a year, pushing the project to 99% completion. Yet, just a week ago, right at the final hurdle, Charlotte—the daughter of the company’s largest shareholder—got jealous.

Eager to steal the ultimate credit, she forcibly parachuted into the project department, hijacked my position as the lead planner, and insisted on presenting the pitch to the client’s top executives herself.

Amateurs dictating to professionals—the outcome was entirely predictable.
Her arrogant, clueless micro-management completely infuriated the client’s Big Boss. They flipped out on the spot, threatening to terminate the contract and seek damages.

After causing this catastrophic disaster, the "princess"—who normally paraded around calling everyone her "bros"—played dead at the speed of light.
She ignored calls, left emails unread, and threw the entirely collapsed, hopeless mess right into my face.

For the sake of my team's blood, sweat, and tears, and even more so to prevent my boyfriend Bastian’s company from getting sued, I paid £24,000 out of my own pocket. I stayed up for three consecutive nights, scrambling to find a backup crew, booking restaurants to humbly appease the client, and ultimately breathed life back into the chaotic mess she left behind.

I thought that when I brought the receipts in for reimbursement, I would at least get a guilty "thank you." Instead, she flipped through the stack of invoices, let out a cold sneer, and smacked them right back into my face.

"Bella, after making such a massive compliance mess, you actually have the nerve to ask me for a reimbursement?"

Five years ago, my fiancée and a chaebol heir broke my ribs and threw me into the sewer like trash.

Five years later, they implanted a neurotoxin bomb into the back of my sister's neck, forcing me on all fours to crawl between the security guards' legs into their engagement banquet at a Manhattan penthouse hotel.

My ex-fiancée poured champagne over my wounds, while the chaebol heir ground caviar into the muddy water with his leather shoes, forcing me to lick it clean like a dog.

The room full of Wall Street elites laughed at my humiliation, thinking I was still the same bottom-tier temp worker from back then.

They had no idea that through my micro-earpiece, a heavy armored division was already on standby under the cover of night.

When the confirmation came that the bomb had been defused, I slowly stood up straight.

Outside the window, engines roared. Ten heavy Black Hawk helicopters tore through the curtain of rain, their heavy machine guns instantly shattering the banquet hall's reinforced glass.

Looking down at the chaebol heir who was now slumped in the muddy water, I drew my sidearm: "The debt from five years ago—today, I'm collecting it with your family's lives."

Translation

Zombies besieged the city. I fought through the infected zone alone and brought back the vaccine.

All of humanity hailed me as their savior.

But at the medal ceremony, my superior and fiancée Amy shoved me aside. "You're covered in blood. Stand over there. Would it kill you to be more like David?"

"A man who can't even bear to look at violence—that's what a civilized person looks like."

For the sake of being her idea of civilized, I locked away my weapons and spent three years as her errand boy. I took countless bullets meant for her, and still she complained I wasn't gentle enough.

Then the virus mutated. To save David, I crushed a Tyrant's skull with my bare hands.

She threw her arms around the trembling David, slammed the table, and screamed at me: "If you don't get this violent streak under control, you can forget about being the Chief's husband. Apologize to David. Now."

The vaccine I'd risked my life for—she used every last drop of it to win favor with her pretty boy.

I ejected the magazine from my rifle and tossed my medal into the rubble.

"That position of yours? Give it to whoever you want."

Three years of companionship, I secretly suppressed her violent S-class psionic power with my mortal body.
Yet on the day of her awakening, she cast me out like garbage.
The night I left, her genetic collapse began.
When the Zerg invaded and she knelt begging for mercy, I walked onto the battlefield alone—where my Nullification Field passed, the Zerg Overmind was reduced to a punching bag.
Star nobles dared to touch my sister?
I single-handedly breached their orbital fortress.
Now I've established the iron law of the universe, and all races bow before me.
And that woman who once drove me away is now kneeling in acid rain, her forehead bleeding from kowtowing.
Too bad—my hot pot is ready, and I have no time to open the door.

Three years after my first love, a Mafia Don, handed me over to his enemies, he finally came to “rescue” me.
Not out of guilt—but because his daughter needed my blood.

Don Silas held me and cried as if his heart were breaking, saying he had thought of me every day.
How ridiculous—his wife Serena stood beside him, and behind them was their daughter, Ava.

I pretended to be moved.
Pretended I still loved him.
Pretended I was willing to be his daughter’s blood donor… and his second wife.

Only one person knew I was acting.
Underboss Liam—the only one who ever managed to get messages to me during those three years of captivity.

“I’ll find a way to get you out.” he said.

But on the day we planned to escape, the Gravoni family—the very people who had imprisoned me—arrived.

Their Don, Joe, looked at me with deep remorse.
“Vera, I’m sorry. Back then, I didn’t know… you were my late sister’s daughter.”

Now both families want me.

But all I want… is to leave alive.

Three years in a loveless marriage with Leo Cox, Mona thought she could win his heart with her unwavering devotion, but Leo showed no love or concern towards her. Eventually she got tired, filed for divorce and left after founding out Leo was cheating on her— but she was already pregnant for him.

Leo assumed Mona was merely playing hard to get-after all, he bet she'd be back, begging for reconciliation. But no one saw it coming; after the divorce, Mona transformed into a confident woman and Leo is stunned by her transformation.

Now, Leo is drowning in regret, desperately chasing after Mona-but by this time, it was already too late.

He started contemplating every day, wondering if breaking a leg or going bankrupt would be enough to capture her attention.

In a world overrun by zombies, survivors built a fortress—and my fiancée and I joined its action unit.
To help her secure her position, I turned down leadership’s offer to run my own squad and stayed by her side as the “invisible” second-in-command.

For a full year, I made the tactics, wrote the contingencies, and cleaned up every mission.
She took my plans as her own credit—and let the team treat me like dead weight.

Then, on one operation, she ignored my orders and changed the plan on the fly. Disaster followed.
In the debrief, she blamed everything on me in front of everyone.

I resigned on the spot.

Not long after, I took command of a new squad—and delivered the cleanest record in the entire base.
Her unit couldn’t even finish routine recovery runs.

Until a mandated joint op put our teams at the same rally point—
and she finally realized the “legendary captain” was me.

I’m Aurora. I died at the hands of my family.
“You were born a walking curse to this Pack. Taking Nora’s place and marrying Liam is what you owe us!” My mother, Patricia, bound my arms and legs with a rope dusted in silver powder. My sister Nora raised a silver-laced dagger and drove it straight into my heart. “Your name, your mate, everything belonged to you is mine!” Then she used a face-shaping spell to transform into my appearance, took over Black Moon manor, and waited for my Alpha mate, Liam, to come home.
I became a ghost and was pinned to her side by a soul-sealing array, forced to watch her clumsy imitation. “Liam, I made your favorite wild-berry oatmeal.” But a wolf’s nose never lies. Liam frowned and stepped away. “That artificial perfume on you… that isn’t her.” I watched him spend sleepless nights after his Wolf-Soul Stone shattered. I watched him uncover the truth that my old injury on my left foot was gone, and “I” was no longer allergic to silver-scale fish. Only then did I understand: the Alpha who looked cold had already carved me into his heart.
Not until he dug up what was left of my body, two undeveloped twin pups still hidden inside me, did Liam finally break. With eyes burning red, he roared, “What you owe me… what you owe Aurora… you’ll pay with your lives!” When dawn rose, my soul dissolved into the morning light. All I wished for, in the next life, was to meet him somewhere without betrayal, to be two ordinary wolves who could protect our children, together.

Emily's world shatters when her longtime mate, Jerome, and her best friend, Natalie, cheated on her. Seeking revenge, Emily seduces Jerome's father. But something unexpected happens – Emily and Alpha Jason start to fall for each other, even though Emily only wanted revenge at first. With Jerome trying to win Emily back and Natalie plotting a deadly scheme, things are about to get even more complicated. Who will end up happy, and who will end up heartbroken?

In their three years of marriage, Stella tried her best to win Clarence’s heart, but sometimes love just isn't there.

As soon as she found out he was cheating on her and even got his mistress pregnant, all her efforts seemed futile so she made the tough decision to let go and vanish from his life.

Little did she know, Clarence went mad after her departure, searching for her everywhere.

Until one day, he spotted the woman he had long sought, now transformed, holding hands with a cute baby.

Unable to contain himself, Clarence grasped Stella’s chin: "Darling, didn't you promise you'd love me only?"

She chuckled, "A second chance is given only if this time we play by my rules."

Is divorce a sign that the couple don't understand each other or that they BEGIN to?