3556 Book(s) Related to yes and i love you book

"Give birth to my child, then get out."

With those words, Sean’s kiss fell brutally, ripping Susan’s nightgown open.

His fingers pressed against her clitoris. Sean flipped her over, pinning her under him. His swollen, turgid member quickly found her secret path. He thrust in violently.

Susan broke into a cold sweat. Sean nipped her ear. "Does it feel good? Is this what you like? I’ll make you pregnant, but you can’t stay by my side—this position is reserved for Victoria."

——

Years ago, Susan saved Sean and earned the chance to marry him. But she was damaged in that accident and couldn't conceive. She took countless hormone injections, losing her figure and becoming ugly. Finally, she could get pregnant, only to catch Sean cheating with the young, hot Victoria.

"In that case," Susan said, "let’s divorce."

Susan was bloated and had been a housewife for three years with no skills. Yet, she chose to divorce, even though she couldn't take her own child with her...

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?"

Adalina lives with her very protective older brother Zarakai and his four best friends, they helped raise her after their parents died. Now she is eighteen and she doesn't know how to turn her feelings off. After being rejected by Austin, she turned to Jace who loves her more than he should considering the age gap. Now Austin is back in town and Jace doesn't like sharing. Adalina wants Jace and Austin. Maybe even Tyler and Spencer too. Will the four men learn to share her, or will she end up heartbroken?

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.

When they threw me overboard, they thought a man with a broken leg couldn't possibly come back alive. When the floodwaters engulfed the world, turning land into a graveyard, I found a forgotten submarine in the deep sea. From underwater, I built my empire step by step . Not by pity, not by luck. By the time the survivors of this sea finally realized what lay beneath the surface, I no longer needed to hide. They called me the Deep Sea Ghost. I didn't care what they called me. I knew only one thing—from this day forward, this sea was mine to rule.

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.

He was reborn back to the day his wife Lydia was sacrificed to the demon.

The entire demon race was laughing at me, her useless husband who was about to be thrown into the cursed land, while she, dressed in a pure white robe, rose step by step on my bones and blood, becoming the most beloved saintess of the demons.

She thought I would rot in the ashes, but little did she know that I had swallowed a World Tree seed that had been dormant for ten thousand years in my death.

An enslaved old miner, a blind but gentle apothecary, a desperate mermaid leader... I led eighteen "defective products" chewed up by the abyss, riding the wildly growing tide of life, and forcefully smashed through the demon's royal city!

When the immortal demon king was drained dry by the World Tree and knelt on the ground begging for mercy like a wild dog, my noble wife smiled and raised the sharp obsidian.

"What are demons? This throne belongs only to me."

This is a story of extreme betrayal and violent redemption. When life permeates the demon realm, all the high and mighty evils will turn into dust at the bottom of the trees!

Caroline Mercer once believed kindness could be proven by sacrifice. She took in two orphaned children, gave them schools, doctors, tutors, rooms beside her daughter's nursery, and a path into the Mercer name.

Years later, those children returned as witnesses against her. Sloane Vale smiled for the cameras while calling Caroline a monster. Nolan Vale handed federal investigators a beautiful stack of forged evidence. Caroline's husband was broken, her company was seized, and her only daughter, Evelyn, died after being traded into a marriage meant to protect everyone else's reputation.

Then Caroline opened her eyes on the morning the Vale children first arrived at her door.

This time, she would feed them. She would house them. She would educate them. She would keep every receipt, every doctor's report, every legal notice.

But she would never again give strangers the keys to her child's future.

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.

Ten years into my marriage, I'd traded my paintbrush for a spatula and turned into Mrs. Holloway.

Ever since my sister Brooke moved in, my husband Bennett and my daughter Lucy had picked up a habit. Anytime Brooke and I disagreed, they put it to a vote.

On my birthday I wanted steak. Two hands went up for the salad bar Brooke liked. When I hadn't slept in weeks and wanted to see a therapist, they sided with Brooke, who said I just had too much time on my hands.

We'd decided long ago that for our tenth anniversary, we'd go back to Jenny Lake, where Bennett had proposed. Then Brooke mentioned she wanted to surf in Maui. Another vote. Two to one, again.

Bennett finished booking the tickets before it even occurred to him to look at me.

"There were only three business-class seats left, so we grabbed them. Just book yourself an economy seat, okay?"

I nodded and bought a one-way ticket to Wyoming.

This time, I wasn't going with them.

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.

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.

Dante Ashford is my stepbrother, and the one person I should never have fallen in love with.

When I was ten, my parents died saving his family. The Ashfords took me in. He was good to me back then. Somewhere along the way, I fell for him.

When I was eighteen, he nearly died in an ambush. I donated blood, then a kidney to save him. I was unconscious for three days. When I woke up, Vivian Ross sat by his bed—and he believed she was his savior.

After that, he pushed me away. Vivian became his fiancée.

In my past life, Vivian's crimes brought disaster to our family. Dante got on his knees and begged me to take her punishment. I refused. She died anyway. Then he pretended to love me, planned our wedding—and on that day, his assistant announced to everyone: "This wedding was a lesson to show Miss Elena Hayes what it feels like to be abandoned by the whole world."

I jumped from the church balcony.

When I opened my eyes, I was back at that moment—him on his knees, begging.

This time, I said yes.

Dante, from now on, we're done.

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.

It was Valentine's Day when my fiancé, Gavin Pierce, took me out to that survival course in the Catskills — him, me, and Riley Harper, the girl his family took in when she was fourteen, after her parents died.
I'd asked for a table at the Gramercy Tavern. He'd said he hated standing in line for a reservation, that he wanted to do something that actually got our blood moving.
So he booked the three of us into a couples' wilderness challenge — which should have told me something, right there, when the booking was for three.
The final round was a solo penalty draw. One of us would pull the short stick and spend ten minutes locked inside The Freezer.
Riley hooked her arm through Gavin's, half pouting, half flirting. "Gav, if I pull it, are you gonna come get me out?"
Gavin laughed. "Rules are rules, Ri."
She stuck her lip out in a sulk.
Beside her, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
Then Riley drew the black stick, and her tears came instantly, like a faucet turning on.
Less than a second later, Gavin spoke.
"It's too dark in here. Drew the wrong one, didn't I?"
He slid the safe stick out of my hand and swapped it with hers — smooth enough that it took me a beat to understand what I'd just seen.
"You're up, Caro."
Riley's tears dried up on the spot.
Gavin turned and murmured close to my ear, "Come on. Riley has a thing about tight spaces. You're tough. Ten minutes. You'll be fine."
This wasn't the first time Gavin had dropped me the moment it counted.
I looked down at the cold already seeping through the soles of my boots, and the phone sealed in my waterproof pouch lit up.
It was the man my father had been quietly pushing on me for months.
[Valentine's Day, Miss Langley. Have you made up your mind?]

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.

"Kiss it for me, sister…"
I had no idea the milk I drank every night was handmade by my foster brother, Luciano.
After I turned down his confession yet again, I stared at the milk he’d brought me so eagerly and knocked it to the floor in disgust.
The boy who’d always been quiet and obedient suddenly snapped.
He pinned me flat to the ground, his face inches from mine, his breath brushing my ear:"I get it. You want to drink fresher milk, don’t you?"
I never imagined the boy I’d raised all these years could spiral this far out of control with his twisted feelings for me.
So the very next day, I put him behind bars with my own two hands, determined to put an end to this messed-up obsession for good.

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 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.

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.

I bought a handsome, aloof incubus from a clearance sale online to be my live-in maid.
For a week, he was perfect. Then he started fainting, his skin burning with a fever no amount of rest could fix. Panicked that I’d somehow overworked my best employee, I called the 24/7 Aphrodisiac (companyI bought him from) helpline.

Ma’am, our incubus models have a demonic lineage and you have got a high-output model. They have near-infinite stamina. They don't get 'feverish' from vacuuming. But... why did you have him doing 'housework'?"
"Because the house was dirty?"
The agent suddenly chuckled. "Ah, I see. Everyone has their own fantasies and kinks. Roleplay is very popular. But tell me, according to the log, when was the last time Xanthos received physical intimacy?"
"Huh?"
"Physical intimacy," the agent repeated. "Love, spoiling, skin-to-skin contact. If a male incubus doesn't get intimacy, his internal energy stagnates. They fall sick. Male models are much higher maintenance than females; they need constant affection to stay healthy."
My blood ran cold. "Affection? I bought him to mop the floors!"
"Ma'am," the agent's voice dropped. "You are on Aphrodisiac. We are the world's leading provider of supernatural escorts. Did you... did you not read the site description?"

Turns out, I hadn’t bought a demonic domestic servant.
I’d accidentally purchased a high-maintenance supernatural escort.
And apparently, if I didn’t start showing my “maid” some affection soon, he would die and I would be jailed for abusing my maid.

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."

Three years ago, on their way to attend my graduation art exhibition, the cruise ship carrying my fiancé and my family caught fire.

Over the past three years, I downed sleeping pills countless times, desperately wanting to follow them into the afterlife. Every single time, my adopted sister, Serena, saved me, crying hysterically as she shoved her fingers down my throat to make me throw up.

"They are already gone! Harper, you can't keep living in the past. You have to live on for their sake!"

After fainting from yet another high fever and being rushed to the hospital, I was diagnosed with terminal leukemia.

The doctor said I had a month left, at most.

I refused their advice to find a bone marrow match. Clutching my family's belongings, I decided to go back to our old estate in the suburbs for one last look.

While I was walking in a daze, a little boy running wildly crashed hard into my legs.

A male voice that had haunted my dreams for years rang out from behind me. "Alistair, if you keep running off, what will you do if Mommy and Daddy don't want you anymore?"

In an instant, it felt like I had been plunged into freezing water. I froze in place.

When the bridal bouquet landed directly in my arms, the entire reception erupted.
All eyes shifted to Elias, the man I had loved for seven years.
"Propose! Put a ring on it!" the crowd chanted, pushing him toward me.
My heart raced. I thought my endless waiting was finally over.
Instead, Elias stepped up, smiled... and pulled the flowers right out of my hands.
He turned around and shoved them into the arms of his twenty-five-year-old assistant.
"Don't be greedy, Kalinda. Let Mia have the luck today," he chuckled, patting my hair like a pet. "We've got plenty of time. Next time, I promise."
I watched his assistant bury her face in the white peonies, shooting me a triumphant smirk.
I just smiled back.
There isn't going to be a "next time."
My wedding is coming. But he isn't the groom.

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.

Everyone in our hometown believed Mia and I would get married.
Our mothers had planned the wedding. Our neighbors were waiting for invitations. And for years, I stayed exactly where Mia expected me to—until she left our dinner to spend the night caring for another man.
She told me not to overthink it.
So I didn’t.
I canceled the wedding plans, moved out, and gave her the freedom she had always acted like she wanted.
That was when Mia finally panicked.
She thought I was punishing her. She never understood that I wasn’t trying to make her come back.
I was learning how to leave.

To help his life-saving benefactor, he personally pressed a pregnant me on the operating table to draw bone marrow.
I cried and begged him, "James, I'm pregnant. It's your child. Don't do this to me..."
But he had a look of disgust in his eyes. "Elizabeth, you'd lie about something like that just to get out of helping Mandy?"
Until there was a river of blood in the operating room and that unformed child turned into a pool of bloody water, he finally panicked.
Later, when he knew that the person who saved him in the fire ten years ago was actually me, he held my ashes and knelt outside the operating room for a full three days.

My adopted sister, Cordelia, conspired with her biological mother to harvest my organs alive, yet she had the audacity to claim I paid thugs to rape her.
My biological parents didn't bother to ask for the truth. They cursed me, calling me a vicious bastard, and threatened to break my legs.
My fiancé, Caspian, coldly announced the cancellation of our engagement, declaring he would marry the very murderer who killed me.
I had been dead for exactly three days. No one cared. My body was rotting back in a moldy storage room.
Through it all, my soul was trapped in the manor, forced to witness this absurd farce.
But what they didn't expect was that when they finally learned of my death—
Everyone went completely insane.

Everyone says I'm the woman Jasper loves most.

But only I know that in his heart, I've always come second to Sadie.

Seven years ago, I shoved him out from under a collapsing rig and shattered my right ankle. I never skated competitively again.

He held me and swore that the day he won the Grand Slam, he'd marry me in front of the whole world.

I believed him. So I learned to be his support crew. I sharpened his blades, hand-sewed his costumes, dragged my bad leg around everywhere he went. I turned myself into the shadow that followed him.

Then Sadie came along. Young, healthy, able to do things I could never do again.

Tonight, Jasper wins the Grand Slam. The cameras circle him, the whole arena chanting for him to propose.

But he looks down at Sadie in his arms and smiles.

"Out of everyone, she's the one I want to thank most for this medal. I wouldn't have made it here without her."

That's the moment I stop wanting to stay.

For the third time, Kael fled before the wedding—this time to deliver medicine to the neighbor girl he grew up with.
As compensation, the pack elders offered me two chests of rare ore and the deed to an island.
Someone, still hopeful, called Kael on speakerphone.
His careless voice echoed through the hall:
“Why bother with compensation? Ella loves me so much; she’ll come around as soon as I go back and sweet-talk her a little.”
“Sophia’s health is what matters now. Once she recovers, I’ll just hold another ceremony for Ella.”
The elders tried to explain, but the surrounding werewolves were all waiting to see the show—waiting to see how much humiliation I would swallow.
Just like the first two times.
But I’d had enough. And I’d lost all interest in Kael.
I kicked over the chest of ore and let my gaze fall on Kael’s uncle.
Then, I smiled.
“I heard the old Alpha left a will: whoever can claim me… becomes the next Alpha.”

They thought that by forcing me to my death, they could devour everything.

My father jumped off a building, and I became a destitute young master whom everyone could bully. To pay off debts, I married into the Hawthorne family and became their sharpest knife.

After my father-in-law died suddenly, my wife immediately brought her childhood sweetheart into the house and forced me to divorce him.

My resistance resulted in a murder plotted by 928 × 213.

When I opened my eyes again, Chloe, who had been watching over me for three days and three nights, was beside me.

She said, "I'll take you away."

Three years later, I returned as a mysterious investor. The first thing I did was to buy the family's bankrupt old factory for 1.5 billion.

My ex-wife and I bumped into each other on the street; it was like seeing a ghost.

I smiled and stuck a 30 million yuan check on her forehead: "This is to repay the divorce fee you gave me back then. Keep the change."

The real revenge has only just begun.

My brother Miles blames me for our parents' deaths.
So he chose to adopt the deaf Vivian instead of keeping me.
Later, I met Sullivan.
He gave me a grand confession. He chose me, resolutely.
He also said I hired someone to assault Vivian—that I didn't deserve sympathy.
Five years after being cast out of my family, a dismembered female body was found inside a carnival mascot costume.
Miles, now a police officer, led the investigation. Sullivan, now a forensic pathologist, performed the autopsy.
They saw the bloodstained hearing aid and immediately called Vivian.
"I'm fine. I just saw the news—some big case. Should we tell Sis to be careful too? What if something happens to her?"
They refused, almost in unison.
"The moment she killed our parents, she stopped being my sister."
"She was jealous of you. She did too many terrible things. If she's dead, she had it coming."
My soul hovered in the air, watching them. I laughed until I cried.
But when they found out the victim was me—
Why did they both go mad?

My husband's foster sister, Delilah, gets poisoned and ends up paralyzed. My husband, Grayson, the Don of this whole crime family, doesn't even bother checking the security cameras. He just throws me, two months pregnant, into the cistern where they punish traitors.

"Tessa, hand over the antidote, or die."

I kneel in the freezing swamp water and beg him. I didn't poison her.

He answers with a kick to the stomach.

For three straight days, I suffer down there. Leeches tear into my skin. My baby turns into a pool of black blood and dissolves into the filthy water. By the end, my vocal cords tear to shreds, my body goes cold, and I stop breathing.

His men get on their knees and beg him to spare me. He just sneers.

"That woman's always been good at playing the victim. No food, no medicine. Let her keep soaking."

Three days later, he finally walks into the cistern, and it's only to give me an ultimatum.

"Crawl out and apologize to Delilah on your knees. Otherwise I'll strip you of your title and sell you off to a trafficking ring. You'll wish you were dead."

No one answers him.

He has no idea. I already am.

Every time my husband’s adopted sister, Avey, had a tennis match, he would force a dark green concoction down my throat. As soon as it kicked in, my entire body would turn weak and aching.
He claimed it was a folk remedy, and I believed him.
In half a year, I lost twenty pounds, half my hair fell out, and I lost our four-month-old baby.
Until the night I overheard them whispering behind a cracked door—they had sought out a witch and cast a dark curse.
My forced standstill was the price for her endless stamina. All her fatigue and sports injuries were being directly transferred to me.
Late that night, listening to them plot to drain the life out of me, I made a choice. On the very night Avey won her championship, I climbed into a deep hibernation pod. I traded thirty days of absolute physical stasis to ensure she could never stop.

"Valerie, you've been working yourself to death. I booked you a flight to Switzerland—take Leo, go relax for a while." My husband Cedric set an Hermès scarf down on the table. "Early gift for our tenth anniversary."
I was thrilled, twirling in front of the mirror with the scarf, admiring how it looked.
That's when my son came around the corner, iPad in hand. "Mommy, a message just popped up. Daddy said he wants to give Seraphina a real family."
My mind just... blanked out.
I opened the message myself, and there it was—a whole year of secrets I never even knew existed.
So he wants to make things right with his old flame? Fine.
Then I get to take back everything I ever gave him.

The man I marry will become the future leader of the company.
In my previous life, without a second thought, I chose to marry the eldest son
whom I had always liked.
But shortly after our wedding, he came stepsister,
and even took out his frustration of not getting her on me,
going so far as to poison and kill me.
This time around,
I chose his younger brother.
I'll see for myself
if he can spend his life with my sister without me standing in their way. me.
This time around,
I chose his younger brother.
I'll see for myself
if he can spend his life with my sister without me standing in their way.

The basement mats still reeked of sweat. I had barely crawled onto them, hoping to sneak a glance at Selena’s bond ritual, when a rough hand seized the back of my collar.
A white wedding gown was forced over my body, the fabric biting into my skin. The brutal yank dragged me across the floor and into the hall. My knees slammed against the cold stone, pain blazing through me like fire.
Candlelight filled the room, flames snapping and hissing. At the center hung a massive black-and-white portrait. My body turned to stone—this wasn’t a moonlit ritual at all. This was a funeral.
“Selena. Kneel.”
Ulrica’s voice cut like ice. A heartbeat later, his polished shoe dug into the crook of my knee. Agony shot up my leg, bones threatening to shatter as I collapsed before the mourning altar.
“Sherry is my true Fate Mate.” His lips curled in a cruel arc as he looked down on me. “You? You’re nothing but a mistress. Apologize to her—that’s the rule.”

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

He never planned to touch her, let alone crave her.

When ruthless billionaire Roman Thorne is forced into a strategic marriage, he chooses Elena Sinclair, quiet, obedient, and easily controlled.

Or so he thought.

Behind her innocent eyes is a sharp tongue, a hidden past, secrets, and curves that haunt his nights. Elena has no intention of being anyone’s trophy wife. She plays by her own rules, and Roman’s cold detachment only fuels her fire.

Now Roman wants more than her name on his paperwork. He wants her moaning his name in the dark. He wants her loyalty. Her heart. Her everything.

Too bad Elena didn’t come to be owned.