3708 Book(s) Related to trapped in my daughters fantasy romance novel

Every night, dragging noises come from the floor above.
The neighbor claims he just can’t sleep, yet he stares at my window and grins in the dead of night.
Later, he dies.
But at two in the morning, I still get a text message from him.
Someone else warns me: Don’t go to the sixth floor.
The police say this building doesn’t even have a sixth floor.
Yet I’ve seen people go up there with my own eyes.
Where exactly does this so-called sixth floor lead?
Who really died?
And who on earth is the one texting me?

I've married sixteen dead men for a living. My seventeenth husband just opened his eyes.
I was born knowing one thing: the dead can speak one last time — but only to a spouse.
So I marry dead men. Rich families pay me to wed their fresh corpses, carry the last words sealed inside me, and read the testament out before the heirs. Then I burn the marriage certificate, and the marriage ends at the grave. Starting price: six hundred thousand dollars.
This morning, the Crane heir drowned in his own pool. Twenty-eight, obscenely rich, not one word left behind. The family offered five million and a private jet. By my count — my seventeenth husband. By a wide margin, the handsomest.
I said "I do" to a corpse for the seventeenth time. Then I called for his last words.
Silence. Sixteen weddings, sixteen voices. Husband number seventeen had nothing to say.
Because my seventeenth husband just opened his eyes.

I lent my Bugatti to my secret boyfriend for clout. He repaid my trust by gifting my car to a scheming cheerleader, letting her publicly humiliate and frame me. The whole school mocked me as a poor garage keeper’s daughter, unaware I’m the hidden billionaire heiress behind the supercar. Now I’ll destroy his fake rich life and avenge every insult.

For three years, I deliberately suppressed my grades to rank under my boyfriend William, paving his way to our promised Cambridge exchange. I overheard him and my best friend Maddie confess they framed me for plagiarism in my past life, driving me to jump off the 38th floor, yet they still carried on an affair. They lied and ignored my pain afterward. Heartbroken, I secretly applied to Cambridge alone. The twist? My years of hiding my brilliance were never selfless sacrifice. I collected all their dirty secrets. I’m going to Cambridge not to flee, but to ruin every dream they cling to.

The remote vacation villa was saturated with suffocating male testosterone.
Deep in the night, my life-saving suppressants inexplicably vanished. The moment the drugs wore off, my unspeakable secret—my sex addiction—unleashed its most violent, lethal backlash in history.
What was even more fatal was that, through a twisted twist of fate, the man I was forced to share a room with tonight was my stepbrother, renowned for his absolute abstinence and cold, iron-fisted ruthlessness.
I thought that once my embarrassingly out-of-control, in-heat state was exposed, he would treat me like a monster and kick me away in disgust.
But I never expected—
This aloof man, who usually wouldn't even spare me a glance, now carried an irresistible, scorching aggression, ruthlessly sliding his large, rough hand straight up my thoroughly soaked panties...

My husband thinks a "tragic surgical accident" left me completely blind. Now, he's moved his mistress right into our house to be my nurse. They openly whisper about my life insurance while preparing my afternoon tea. They think a blind wife is the perfect prey. But are they sure I'm in the dark?

Cancer was supposed to be my death sentence. Instead, it became my liberation.

I thought I had it all—wealth, status, a picture-perfect life in Greenwich's elite circles. Then came the diagnosis that would change everything: six months to live. But facing my final chapter, I uncovered a truth more devastating than any terminal illness—the man sleeping beside me was slowly killing my soul.

When you have nothing left to lose, you discover exactly how powerful you can become.

My husband's first love, Celine, lured me to a remote cabin under the guise of an "apology."
 
She then poured gasoline all over the porch and locked the door from the outside.
 
In my past life, the moment the fire began to spread, I desperately called my husband, Julian—a fire captain—for rescue.
 
He smashed the door open and saved me.
 
Ironically, Celine's scheme backfired, and she died of smoke inhalation outside.
 
Yet, Julian pinned her blood debt entirely on me.
 
He kept me at the hospital with his hypocritical comfort, only to tear off his disguise the day I was discharged. He tied me to a pillar in an abandoned warehouse and poured gasoline at my feet.
 
As the flames ignited, my ten-week-old unborn child and I were swallowed by the raging fire.
 
Julian's eyes were bloodshot. Facing my agonizing screams, his gaze held nothing but pure, unadulterated hatred:
 
"If you hadn't gone mad with jealousy and locked the door from the inside, Celine would never have died! Stop playing the victim!"
 
"The pain she suffered before she died... I'm going to make you pay for it ten times, a hundred times over!"
 
In the blazing light, he watched coldly as I was burned alive, turning into a charred corpse.
 
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment the fire started to spread.

Every time my fated mate strayed, his guilt bought me a moon-forged ring.

For four years, I collected ninety-nine rings. I swallowed his betrayals ninety-nine times to keep our pack stable.

Recently, while he claimed to be at a three-day border summit, I miscarried our heir. The shock of our fraying mate-bond killed the pup the exact moment I realized he was actually buying a secret territory for his childhood sweetheart.

When he finally walked through our door, holding out the hundredth ring—a priceless, ancient artifact—to buy my silence one last time, he expected his Luna to fall in line.

But he doesn't know the pup is gone.

And he has no idea I'm about to reject him in front of the entire pack.

My brother's first day on the job, and the new intern, Ashley Pratt, accuses him of trying something with her in the break room.

In my last life, I panicked under all those judging stares and my father screaming at me over the phone. I grabbed my brother by the shoulder and forced him to bow and apologize to her, tried to pay her off to make it go away.

She turned around and leaked the wire transfer online instead, twisted it into a story about rich people paying to buy back their good name. The backlash spiraled out of control. My brother couldn't take the flood of hate anymore and jumped from the roof. He hit the ground and there was nothing left of him to recognize.

My father used my failure to handle it as an excuse to push me off the board. I ended up watching the woman responsible climb over my brother's grave and take the CEO seat at Merritt Industries.

Fate is giving me a second shot.

My brother reaches for me, eyes rimmed red. "Camille, I swear I didn't do anything."

I pull him behind me and look down at the woman crying on the floor.

"She's saying you assaulted her? Fine. Let's call the cops."

At the annual charity gala, I stood in the spotlight as the student representative.

My roommate, Harper, suddenly stormed the stage, publicly accusing me of being a sugar baby who seduced her father.

"That diamond necklace around her neck was bought with my dad's money!"

I instantly became public enemy number one. The crowd erupted into a frenzy of boos, and the administration, caving to the pressure, prepared to expel me on the spot.

Facing the out-of-control screaming and the countless live-stream cameras shoved in my face, I pulled out my phone and dialed the so-called "sugar daddy" right there in front of everyone.

"Dad," I said coldly. "Since when did I get a new 'sister'?"

The day I secured the finale at New York Fashion Week, my adopted sister was in a car crash that left her completely blind.
And so began a ruthless campaign to destroy my life.
Listening to me prepare for the runway, she touched her heavy gauze bandages and wept bitterly. "You're so brilliant, Valora. Not like me... I'm just a useless, blind burden."
To placate her, our brother burned my core design sketches to ashes.
On the day of the show, my finale haute couture gown was maliciously slashed to ribbons. My reputation was left in ruins, and every single sponsor pulled their funding.
Later, she live-streamed her suicide attempt from a rooftop, sobbing that a disabled girl like her didn't deserve to be loved.
My husband dropped to one knee in front of the entire world and slipped the custom diamond ring—my ring—onto her finger.
That very night, I was dead-bolted inside my roaring, fire-engulfed studio.
With toxic smoke searing my lungs, I dialed my husband's number for help, only to be met with his frustrated, impatient voice:
"Serafina is blind! The fire alarms have her terrified! Stop being so damn petty and jealous right now!"
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of her accident. The day she faked her blindness.

My family ignored my calls while I was dying in our basement. They thought I was trying to ruin my younger sister's graduation.
That night, my brother finally came looking for me. My sister wanted the cookies I used to bake for her.
I was right beside him when he demanded that I come home.
He couldn't hear me. My body was still downstairs.

I waited five years for a heart transplant.
My mother—the Luna of our Pack, the healer everyone worships—gave it to someone else.
An orphan girl she took in. A girl who now calls her "Mom."
Ivy got my heart. She got a wolf. She got a mate and a wedding so grand the whole Pack attended.
Me? I watched from the corner, still dying, while my mother smiled for the cameras and accepted praise for her "selfless sacrifice."
When I finally snapped at the ceremony, she slapped me. Told me to apologize. Said I was embarrassing the family.
I'm her actual daughter. I'm the one who can't shift, can't feel a mate bond, can't survive another six months.
But sure. I'm the problem.
They wanted me to stay quiet and die gracefully.
I chose to make sure everyone sees who their perfect Luna really is.

My foster brother Caelan swore he'd only ever marry me. Even though I'm the only human in a pack of wolves, for eighteen years he and his brother Ronan made me feel like I belonged.
Then Mira showed up—and suddenly she was his "fated mate."
I watched him bond with her while I choked on poisoned incense and collapsed. No one caught me. They were too busy wiping her tears.
Within a week, she had my room. My job. Eighteen years of memories—trashed.
They said I could never leave them.
They forgot about the vampire prince who's been waiting at the border for three months.
He never forgot me.

On our fifth anniversary, Caspian gifted me a luxury yacht bearing my name. Everyone said I was the luckiest woman alive.
But when I finally conceived his child and prepared to share the news, his mistress sent me photos—him cradling a baby she'd given him, his eyes filled with a tenderness I'd never seen.
Five years of waiting, five years of infertility—all an elaborate lie.
He once whispered in my ear: "Even if every man in the world betrays his wife, I never will. You're my life. Without you, I can't survive."
I quietly packed, left behind my pregnancy report and all the evidence, and drove away. Three hours later, he received the call: my car exploded on the highway. No survivors.
From that day on, the most powerful man in Valen City lost his mind completely.

"The Draganovs are moving on Celeste tonight. I'm taking her to the safe house. We'll do the claiming after this, Orla. I promise."
That's what my husband said the seventh time he chose Celeste over me.
Celeste. The girl he'd loved since before he had a wife to ignore.
The first time, she heard footsteps outside her window at two in the morning. Rafael sent his whole detail to sit on her house and left me at a meeting with two men who wanted our shipping routes and didn't like being told no. I came home with a bullet crease across my ribs. He apologized for a week.
The third time, someone tipped the cops on one of our warehouses and she got scared. He drove her upstate himself. I took a knife at the door because there was no one left standing in front of me.
By the sixth time, he didn't explain. He just texted the doctor to be ready for me and left.
He's a Don. When the guns come out, he walks away clean. I'm the one wearing his name where everyone can see it. The one they aim at first. Six scars say so.
Every time, he held my face after and promised. Founders' Day. In front of every family in the city. Once Celeste was safe. I believed him six times.
So when the seventh time came and he chose her again, my bags were already packed.
There won't be an eighth time he sends me out to die for her. Next time, there won't be a wife left for him to send.

I was reborn on the day my baby was murdered, and the first thing I did was send my son away from the Hale estate. When I returned to the party, a black stroller was floating in the pool. Everyone thought the dead child was mine. They told me I could have another baby while they protected the ten-year-old girl who had pushed the stroller in. Then my father arrived with my living son in his arms, and the child dragged from the trash compactor turned out to be the killer’s own baby brother.

For the tenth time, James Smith left me behind because of a call from his female student.
But it was as if I had become a different person—I no longer doubted that there was something ambiguous between James and his student.
Even on our wedding anniversary, when he abandoned me in the remote mountains for Sophia's sake, I bore no resentment.
Eventually, James began to sense something.
"Emily, you seem different," he said.
I shook my head with a smile.
Because I had simply made a different choice from the one in my past life.

My uncle cut off my allowance the moment he spotted my new tongue piercing. That night, I found a stranger online asking how to make his friend’s “gold-digging girlfriend” leave him. I told him to send her money. Minutes later, $8,888 landed in my account—from my uncle’s best friend, Adrian Foster, the handsome, buttoned-up man who thought my uncle was my boyfriend. The stranger was him. The gold-digging girlfriend was me. And the man he thought was my boyfriend? My uncle.

I took a bullet for my husband five years ago. He married me in the ICU before the anesthesia wore off.
Raffaele Santoro—heir to the most powerful mafia family in Italy—told me I was his everything. He bought a castle and named it after me. He reserved a grave beside his parents so we'd lie together for eternity.
While I was pumping my body full of hormones for our fourth round of IVF, he was across town watching his childhood sweetheart give birth to twin boys.
He named one of them Dante—the name I'd chosen for our future son.
The night I found out, I was seven weeks pregnant with his child.
I didn't tell him.
I called my best friend and said: I need everyone to think I'm dead.

On Employee Appreciation Day, every woman in the office got a $500 bouquet of roses. Every woman except me.

When I went to HR to ask why, I overheard the interns laughing in the breakroom.

"Julian spent Morgan's flower budget to buy Chloe a massive custom bouquet! Who cares if Morgan is the Creative Director? She's just a sad workaholic obsessed with the CEO."

What those interns—and that spoiled little mistress—didn't know was that Julian wasn't just my boss. He was my husband of seven years.

I was the secret genius working for pennies to build his multi-million-dollar agency. But since he wanted to treat me like trash to impress a 22-year-old, I decided to give him the ultimate divorce gift.

I packed up my winning pitch, walked out, and called his biggest, most lethal billionaire rival.

"I'm in," I told him. "Let's bankrupt my husband."

Six weeks after his girlfriend had twins, my husband got himself fixed. He billed it to my insurance.
Then he spent nine years driving me to fertility clinics. Two surgeries. Four rounds of shots. He held my hand every time and told me next time.
The whole town said it was my fault. His mother asked me every Sunday if there was any news.
I died at forty-four. Three days before the end I couldn't open my eyes, but I could hear them over my bed. The girl I bought a purple bicycle for called him Dad.
Then I opened my eyes and I was thirty-four again, on a gurney, waiting for them to open me up one more time.
Last time I lay back down and let them do it. I did it three more times after that.
This time he's paying me back for all nine years, one line at a time.
The nurse asked me to confirm my date of birth. I did. Then I told her I wasn't doing it.

The stepbrother I grew up with was a golden boy, a star varsity quarterback everyone had high hopes for.
But for a street-level delinquent, he abandoned his Ivy League future.
Desperate to pull his life back on track, I tried to expose his toxic girlfriend.
Yet, he hated me to the bone for it.
For her, he ruthlessly dragged our family into the crossfire of a deadly gang dispute, causing us all to meet a violent, tragic end.
I never expected fate to rewind the clock.
To give me a second chance.

I spent three hundred years winning Varen Ashworth's war. Bled for him. Handed him my army, my secrets, the healing blood from my own chest. He'd be nothing without me.
On his coronation day, he announced his queen—and it wasn't me. It was Elara. Some trembling, doe-eyed girl he'd pulled out of a Demon camp. He told me I could stay on as her handmaid.
I laughed, voided the contract, and walked out.
Because I've lived this life before. Last time, I exposed Elara. Saved his throne. He thanked me—then slaughtered my entire bloodline.
This time, I'm not saving anyone.
This time, I'll watch him figure out exactly what kind of woman he picked over me. And when his whole world comes apart—he'll be on his knees, begging the one person who could've stopped it.
I won't be listening.

After the crash, my husband, Darius, lost his ability to speak. The trauma to his cervical spine left him unable to even lift a finger.
The doctors said his only remaining way to communicate was to nod, or to shake his head.
Sitting by his hospital bed, I finally asked the question that had been eating away at me for three months.
"When the crash happened... were you on your way to see your mistress?"
Darius stared dead at me. Then, slowly, he nodded.

I was just on the phone with my husband. He was stuck in traffic, apologizing for being late to our anniversary dinner. Forty minutes later, detectives are at my door, claiming he died in a crash three days ago. If Silas is dead, who just sent me a text?

At my boyfriend's exhibition party, I went into anaphylactic shock after eating the cake Mia handed me.
I stumbled, reaching for my EpiPen, only for Mia to snatch it out of my hand and crush it under her heel.
"Give... it back..." I choked out, grabbing onto my boyfriend's arm.
He just shook me off, disgusted. "Chloe, can you stop being so dramatic? It's not that big a deal."
"Yeah, Mia's basically family," one of his friends chimed in. "You're being way too jealous and controlling."
Nobody was listening to me anymore.
With the last of my strength, I pressed down on the hidden button on the side of my watch — the one I'd never had to use before.

At last season's Grand Olfactory Gala, Vivienne Harrow presented my formula before I could reach the stage.
I confronted her. She asked where my proof was.
I had nothing. The formula had never left my head — no notes, no records, nothing. I didn't know how she'd gotten it.
I died not knowing.
Then I opened my eyes, and she was already reaching for me.
"Not this time."
I stepped back.

In my last life, I was the one who stopped it.
The second I recognized what was in that cup—a cold medicine loaded with compounds that end any pilot's career on contact with a drug screening—I knocked it out of Ivy's hands. Reid shoved me so hard I hit the coffee table. He got his four stripes anyway. Then he publicly destroyed my reputation, stood by while his fans harassed me off the internet, and smiled when I was pushed down a flight of stairs.
I died knowing he never looked back.
This time, I come back as myself: senior aviation medical officer, five years into a relationship with a man I now see clearly. When Ivy holds out that same cup with that same bright smile, I already know exactly what's in it.
I take a step back.
"Drink it while it's hot," I tell him. "Don't leave a drop."
I spent one lifetime being everyone's safety net. Not this time.

My two best friends killed me over a girl who'd been dead six months.
Lila Bishop never got a single offer. So she cried and clung until Cole and Wes were ready to throw away their full rides and follow her to nowhere. I tried to stop them — they called me jealous and cut me off. So I went over their heads. I called their moms. I fixed their signing papers myself, the night before the deadline.
Six months later Lila was gone, and they blamed me. They dragged me to the roof of our gym and threw me off.
Then I opened my eyes — three months back, the day it all started.
Last time, I broke myself trying to save them.
This time, I'd let them jump.

I'm just a stay-at-home mom. Old T-shirt, secondhand car, nobody ever looks at me twice.
At the school fundraiser, my husband's mistress put a peanut in my seven-year-old's mouth. He's severely allergic. As he choked on the grass, she crushed my hand under her heel and kicked his EpiPen straight into the lake.
"One worthless little life," she said. "So what if it's gone."
She's wearing my clothes. My jewelry. Spending my money. She calls me trash in front of the whole school and threatens to have my legs broken.
She thinks she's untouchable, because she's the wife of a Wall Street golden boy.
What she doesn't know is that every dollar he has, every thread she's wearing, even the air she's breathing — all of it belongs to me.
I walked away from that world to raise my son in peace.
She just gave me a reason to come back.

Three years ago, my fiance Marco Ferrante walked out on our engagement for his mistress Vivienne Salas — and now they're both back, kicking in my door and screaming that my baby isn't his.
He's right. It's not his.
It belongs to the most dangerous man in Verrano.
And Marco just put his boot through the Devil's only heir.

After I took in my first love, she promised she'd always be good to me.
But after my mother died in a car accident, I found her in our home—with another man.
She told everyone Colin was her true love, that I was just a little brother she never wanted, and that I was the one who couldn't let go.
Everyone turned against me. My father had a stroke from the rage. Colin even had someone run me over—cost me an eye.
Seven years later.
I stood outside a convenience store holding flowers when I saw them.
Audrey's daughter looked at me with pity. "Mom, that man only has one eye... Is he selling flowers? Should we buy some?"

My brother Adrian said I was the one person who could make him drop everything.
I believed him—until his girlfriend came to our house.
She waited for Adrian to leave the room. Then she grabbed my chin, accused me of stealing her boyfriend, and slapped me across the face.
I was only three. She still warned me not to tell.
When Adrian returned, she smiled and said I had fallen.
But the red fingerprints on my cheek told a different story.
So did the camera above us.

My Beta boyfriend had secret rendezvous with Annie — nine times in one night.
“You,” he sneered, “with your precious Alpha blood—do you think you’re better than everyone else?
Your jealousy is disgusting, Chloe.”
Annie, that viper disguised as an angel, stole my place, plagiarized my work, and climbed higher, stepping over my broken bones.
Even said,
“Beta Dean loves me!
You were always the extra!
It was you who ruined us!”
I won’t let them be happy.
This revenge, forged in blood and fire, has only just begun.

Alpha William’s two mistresses ran away again.
For them, he asked to break our bond.
“Let me coax them first, then we’ll bond again.”
And for him, I agreed.
He sent me to the Freezing Northern Lands, just to please them.
He even allowed them to set me on fire.
When the flames rose, the first ones he saved—
weren’t me, but them.
“Just wait—I’ll come back for you soon.”
But what I never told him was—
I won’t wait for him anymore.
Because in three months,
my life will be over.

In my last life, I was the scapegoat, set off Charlie's deep love for another woman, and finally ended up with a family of miserable end. After rebirth, I decided to let it go, waiting for Peiheng to file for divorce. But the development of the situation is a bit strange, how does a man who barely goes home in my last life come back every once in a while? And worried that I will betray him? "Do you believe that in the near future, you will hate me and want me to disappear?" I asked. "Don't dream." He replied, "We'll torture each other to death." I sighed, as a reborn I know that Charlie will soon meet his true love. Finally, they met, I thought freedom was only one step away from me. But he said, "Who said I want a divorce?" Not only did he not divorce, but he cared more and more about me, even his true love was abandoned!

I'm a Volana wolf, a target of Evil. My blood can grant eternal life.
My father locked me up since I was 10. He killed my wolf and tried to rape me.

No wolf. No mate. No hope.
Until Bastien offered me to be his contract mate.

When 3 years contract comes to the end, I am pregnant.
Yet, he's going to reject me.


"I'm going to be a mother!" I breathe in blissful disbelief.

I can't wait to tell Bastien.

I've been grinning like a fool ever since leaving the doctor's office and practiced sharing the news while I drove.

Butterflies flutter rapidly in my belly as I climb the stairs, my body thrumming with anticipation.

But the ecstatic smile slips from my face the moment I walk in.

Bastien is already there, waiting for me. He's sitting alone in the darkened living room, a tumbler of amber liquid clasped in his large fist and a severe frown dominating his handsome face.

Finally he speaks, "Tomorrow I'm going to have my father put things in motion for our rejection ceremony."

Abused and constantly used by his mom, Steve's mom arranges a marriage between his step brother Ash and him. Steve knew it was for her own selfish desire but he was happy because he was in love with his step brother, but Steve didn't know that Ash only agreed because he wanted to make make him suffer because he hated Steve because he was birthed by a selfish woman. Steve suffers humiliation and constantly abused by his Ash. Ash constantly treats him like a sex tool, When he finally makes his mind to leave Ash, he finds out he's pregnant for his him but because he thinks Ash would find it disgusting Steve decides to hide his pregnancy from him and leave.

Dear readers and Viewers, explore the Love/Hate relationship between Ash and Steve, Steve's undying love for his Step-brother and Ash's never ending hatred for him. His determination to make Ash return his love back, with all humiliation Steve isn't one to give up so easily.

That scumbag who turned into a jerk as soon as he had some money had been sneaking around with my stepsister behind my back. On our wedding night, no less, he was still carrying on with her! To make matters worse, my shameless stepsister drugged me, causing me to lose my long-preserved virginity to some stranger, and I even ended up pregnant with his child! And now, that traitorous bastard wants to divorce me so he can be with my despicable stepsister! Over my dead body!
Four years later, I returned to the country with triplets born abroad, armed with unparalleled medical skills and a burning desire for revenge against those who betrayed me. My ex-husband, that scumbag, begging for a second chance? Get lost!
But what’s the deal with this billionaire I accidentally saved? Not only does he look just like my kids, but he’s also shamelessly insisting on being their father!
The billionaire: "They are my children. Who else do you want them to call dad?"

I never expected my blind date to be-him.
When the stranger in the semi dark hotel room asked, “can I come closer?” This was something I had envisaged after my heartbreak with my boyfriend.
As he undressed me, the tips of his fingers traced over my skin, sending shivers down my spine, I mourned softly and at the same time, I recognized a familiar scent.
But when he whispered in my ear to start a foreplay, reality struck me hard.
"Justin!" I gasped, heart racing as I realized—it was my best friend’s father.


Sadie thought a blind date with a stranger would help her move on from her heartbreak—until she realizes the man she spent the night with is her best friend’s dad, Justin. Faced with forbidden temptation,Will Sadie let herself feel the temptation, knowing the risk?

A bet.
One scandal cost Alora Harper almost everything.
She was a star student. All she ever cared about was working hard to achieve her dreams until Caden Steele popped into her life and almost ruined her.
Now, she is determined to never let her guards down again.
Caden Steele had always been a self-absorbed playboy but playing with Alora didn’t go as planned.
Instead, it made him unable to function without her. Now, he is determined to win her back.
But it might just be too late!

The Getty family went bankrupt, and her fiancé's family stood by coldly, offering no help. Rebecca Getty signed a contract and had a whirlwind marriage with her fiancé's uncle—Frederick Windsor.
After the wedding, Rebecca's only thought was to pay back the 100 million yuan with interest, set Frederick free, and let him be with his first love.
When she repaid 5 million yuan, Frederick's face darkened.
When she repaid 50 million yuan, Frederick left home for three days.
Finally, when she paid off the entire 100 million yuan, Rebecca was pinned against the wall by the man. "Divorce? Fine!!! I'll give you all my property, and I'll give myself to you too— the kind that follows you wherever you go!"
Rebecca: ……

Sexual compatibility mattered when choosing my husband. Love mattered more, so I chose Dean Harper.
For four unforgettable hot years, he was my best friend, my true love, and my husband. Then, one day, I handed him divorce papers. When he asked me why, I buried the truth and smiled.
"Because you're poor. I can't love a poor man forever."
He didn't argue nor did he beg me and simply accepted my decision. I wanted him to make things right, but he didn't even try.
Our divorce agreement had one final condition, one last night to have sex before we walked away from each other. The next morning, he disappeared, leaving behind a bank card... and enough money for me to "take care of the burden." He knew I was pregnant and put the decision on me.
Four years later, Dean returned as a billionaire tycoon, and my new boss.
He saw our son and kept digging to find out if that was his son, but I kept manipulating everything and lied to him for one solid reason.
He was here for revenge but also confused me. He gave me priceless jewelry, shielded me from every danger, insisted on making me his girlfriend again, and shamelessly demanded that we should make babies. The strong burning pull between us was so strong I couldn't resist either time he touched me.
If he hates me so much as he pretends, why does he still kiss me like I was his precious piece.

I'm a Volana wolf, a target of Evil. My blood can grant eternal life.
My father locked me up since I was 10. He killed my wolf and tried to rape me.

No wolf. No mate. No hope.
Until Bastien offered me to be his contract mate.

When 3 years contract comes to the end, I am pregnant.
Yet, he's going to reject me.

"I'm going to be a mother!" I breathe in blissful disbelief.

I can't wait to tell Bastien.

I've been grinning like a fool ever since leaving the doctor's office and practiced sharing the news while I drove.

Butterflies flutter rapidly in my belly as I climb the stairs, my body thrumming with anticipation.

But the ecstatic smile slips from my face the moment I walk in.

Bastien is already there, waiting for me. He's sitting alone in the darkened living room, a tumbler of amber liquid clasped in his large fist and a severe frown dominating his handsome face.

Finally he speaks, "Tomorrow I'm going to have my father put things in motion for our rejection ceremony."

I am Bastien's burden. He marries me for duty. But when I leave to give him freedom, he goes crazy looking for me. When we meet again, he says he loves me.

“Babe, I’ll punish you for fleeing from me without my permission.” Luke ripped my dress, sucking my breast while one of his hand rubbing it.

He pushed me against the wall, swallowing my gasp of surprise. My nails raked down his back, leaving trails.

"I hate you," I whispered against his mouth. "Luke, I hate you so much."

“Then hate me.” After saying that, he thrust into me. The comfortable feeling let both of us moan at the same time. “Good girl, Tara. Now promise me that you’ll never leave me.”

"No," I felt his breath against my neck, but my body couldn’t help but curve into his.

Hearing that, he began thrusting in and out repeatedly with all his strength. I was almost rendered speechless by him as he kept going until I was ready to climax.

“I... promise...” My words shattered.


Being kidnapped, Tara’s husband took the other woman and abandoned Tara. She heard him say, “I choose... As for Tara, do whatever you want.”

Tara gave up chasing her indifferent husband and opted for divorce. Now, she balanced her roles as the infamous hacker T, the medical genius Red Falcon, and the secret leader of a powerful organization.

But why does Luke still show up all the time after the divorce? Will she be able to hide her secret identity? What’s his sudden interest in her after all this time?

My husband’s long-lost true love returns to our pack celebration—and she’s my twin sister.
For three years, I’ve been the unwanted replacement Luna, married to Alpha Brad after his mate Ariana supposedly died. I endured his coldness and the pack’s contempt in silence.
Then Ariana suddenly came back.
Brad abandoned me at once, doting on her and giving her my place as Luna.
My sister acts weak and hurt in public, but mocks me in private. I found another wolf’s fresh mate mark on her neck—she’s hiding a secret.
When I tried to tell the truth, she faked a fall and framed me.
Brad believed her over me. He forced me to kneel and apologize, threatening me with cruel punishment.
I realize he will never choose me. Now I’m pregnant with his child, and I’ve made up my mind. Tomorrow, I will leave them all behind.