3151 Book(s) Related to My Husband, My Son's Killer

Candice never imagined she would have to marry a man who had been to prison and was extremely poor, but when her father kidnapped her mother to avoid breaking a promise, she had no choice but to take her sister's place. However, the man she thought would be terrifying turned out to be kind and respectful, giving her a sense of security she never expected.

But when she discovers her husband's hidden identity, everything she thought she knew about him - and herself - is turned upside down.

On their wedding night, Candice's heart was pounding in her throat. As she closed her eyes, she felt a force wrap around her waist and she fell into his arms, only to be pushed onto the bed. Her mind went blank as she realized there was much more to her husband than met the eye. As she tentatively reached out her hand to hook around his neck, she whispered, "You're my husband, so it's okay to do anything to me... shall we start?"

Little did she know, this was only the beginning of a dangerous game of secrets and desire that would test the limits of her love and loyalty.

I thought the orchestrated assault was the most profound betrayal of my life. Then, from the shadows of the wine cellar, I heard my husband and his brothers toasting to their success.
"The slow-motion capture of her climax, paired with those broken whimpers... it was cinematic perfection."
"She played her part beautifully. After all, she’s just a Valenti."
I learned the devastating truth: my agony was their scripted entertainment. My husband. The director.
He married me to claim his inheritance.
He branded me to mark his property.
He caused my miscarriage in that dungeon, coldly calling it "tidying up loose ends."
But they overlooked one ancient law—the Moretti blood oath: should the Don betray his vows, everything becomes his wife's.
Now, I stand in the penthouse of his casino.
My fingers trace the scar on my shoulder—now transformed into a dagger.
"Darling, you celebrated the anniversary of your production. My gift to you is a lifetime behind bars."
Now, the final cut is mine.

My three-year-old daughter hides behind the sofa whenever I try to hold her now.

“Mommy is scary,” she whispers, clutching her stuffed bear like a shield.

I thought it was just a toddler’s overactive imagination.

Until I checked the camera feed in my own bedroom.

I watched a woman who looked exactly like me step out of the shadows of our antique mirror, slip into my husband’s bed, and kiss him.

Everyone says I’m crazy.
My husband, Adrien, is Ashmont College’s most esteemed professor—suave, composed, and highly logical. I, on the other hand, am an investigative journalist whose nerves are fried by looming deadlines and too much caffeine. Yet, I insist there’s a woman who shares my exact face, who crawls out of our bedroom mirror every night and slips into my husband’s bed.
Our security cameras always "happen" to glitch at the crucial moments. My son avoids me like I’m a monster, and my neighbors claim they cheerfully greeted "me" in the driveway a few days ago—even though I don't even own a vintage pink dress.
Adrien has started dropping phrases like "psych evaluation" and "sole custody." If I let this drag on any longer, he’s going to personally commit me to a psych ward.
So tonight, I lied about flying to Chicago. Instead, I’m hiding in my own study—waiting for that identical face to crawl out of the mirror one more time.

Five months after Arthur died in the line of duty, my stepmother-in-law, Martha, dragged me into a private clinic in Seattle and tried to force me to end my pregnancy.
The consent form had barely come off the printer when a tiny, milk-sweet voice exploded inside my head—
Mommy, run! Daddy isn't dead! They've got him locked up in a veterans' rehab center outside the city, and they're brainwashing him!
Last time, you believed that wicked grandma. I never got born, and when Daddy found out the truth, he lost his mind!
I tore the form in half right there and stormed off to the rehab center, belly first.
I had just reached the door of the assessment room when I heard a woman's voice inside—the counselor—holding Arthur's hand and murmuring, "Captain, let go of the past. We can start over."
I lifted my foot and kicked that solid-wood door as hard as I could.

In my past life, I was shoved into oncoming traffic by my husband's widowed cousin, Isabella.
"Why do you get the perfect husband and the Romano fortune? Go to hell!"
I died, and my unborn child died with me. Up until my last breath, I thought she killed me out of purely manic, bitter jealousy.
When I opened my eyes, I was back at that exact crosswalk, rewound to the second she was about to push me.
Only this time, I stepped aside.
And I finally learned the truth. She wasn't just an envious widow—she was my husband's secret lover. And the one who paid the million-dollar bounty for my murder to steal my mafia empire was the "flawless" man sleeping in my bed.

Ninety-nine times.

I was sent to the punishment chamber ninety-nine times by my mafia don fiancé.

Each time, he watched through bulletproof glass with cold, detached eyes—watching me being deprived of sleep, injected with drugs, tortured until I was barely clinging to life.

"Elara, you're paying for what you did to the Mancuso family."

For the sake of sweet, innocent Yvette—his precious savior—he personally destroyed everything I had.

After the ninety-ninth time, the doctor handed me a critical condition notice. I stopped begging, signed the confession, and vanished completely with my broken body.

The result? When the truth finally came to light, the ruthless don went completely insane.

Warning: This book contains a large number of very hot adult scenes!
“Look at the state of you, my little she-wolf,” his voice was low and full of menace, like sandpaper scraping across my nerves. “You got this wet just from that?”
Then he pressed a hard kiss to my knuckles.
Fuck!
His rough tongue slid across my slender finger bones, tasting the salty sweat and fear on my skin.
A violent tremor shot through my whole body.
A moan I couldn’t suppress slipped from between my lips. “Ah… Sebastian…”
I felt my thighs rubbing together on their own, that damn traitorous movement making my pussy clench so tight I nearly came.
Yes, that’s it, you desperate little bitch.
I cursed myself in my mind.
He flipped my hand over, his thumb pressing hard—almost punishingly—into the sensitive skin on the inside of my wrist.
My pulse pounded there beneath his palm like it was going mad.
“This is beating so hard,” he whispered, his breath hot against my skin, “is it beating for me, Seraphina? Tell me.”
Then he took one of my fingers into his damn hot, wet mouth.
Oh God…
His rough tongue swirled, rubbed, scraped along the skin of my finger, warm saliva soaking every inch.
And his eyes never left me—fixing on me like a beast locking onto prey.
He sucked softly at first, then suddenly with force.
That rhythm…
Fuck, he was fucking my finger with his mouth.
“Are you using this to fuck my mouth, Seraphina?”
He let my finger go with a filthy pop, seeing straight through my thoughts.
“Imagine this is my cock. Does it feel good, you filthy little she-wolf?”
My back arched uncontrollably, like the lowest kind of whore silently inviting him.
A broken, shameful whimper escaped my throat.
“Good… so good…”
My scent thickened, wild floral heat and lust filling the air, swallowing the last of my reason.
I could feel the terrifying restraint in his body cracking apart.
He wanted to hear me moan his name as I came.
He wanted to bury himself inside my soaked, empty heat until I could feel nothing except his violent thrusts.
He moved to my middle finger, giving it the same obscene, thorough attention.
His tongue circled wickedly at the base, then pushed deep, sucking hard as if tasting the sweetest honey.
Fuck!
My hips jerked upward without control.
My other hand dug into the carpet, knuckles white, vision dissolving in the storm of desire swallowing me whole.
“I need you… to fill my pussy, Sebastian…”
——
I grew up as a human in a wolf pack, but ironically, I ended up becoming the mate of the pack’s Alpha. I thought I would fit perfectly into the wolves’ world—until the day I caught my Alpha mate tangled with another she-wolf in the back seat of a car.
With trembling hands, I tricked him into signing the divorce papers—silently swearing revenge. But they didn’t stop. His mother sent thugs to destroy me. His mistress tried to erase me. Even my coworkers wanted to use me.
That night, I nearly lost my life.
Until Alpha Sebastian found me—cold, ruthless, unmatched. He said he didn’t need a mate.
But he protected me like a mate. Touched me like a mate. Looked at me like a mate, as if I already belonged to him.
I tried to resist his approach. I didn’t want to make the same mistake twice. Wolves would never accept a human mate.
But whenever he came near me, whenever those scorching hands reached for me, I always hungered for him—wanted more—yet I was done with promises.
Until I discovered that my past was not simple at all—and Sebastian had his own reasons for approaching me—

She never saw it coming. After five years of marriage, it took a DNA test to blow everything up.

The son she raised from birth? Her husband's kid with his ex. And somehow, both of them knew the whole time and said nothing.

It gets worse. She overheard her husband's actual plan: wait for the ex to come back, then push her out of the company "nicely" and hand her five million as a goodbye gift.

Five million? She single-handedly kept that company alive, pouring in her own money and connections to clean up his messes. And that's all she's worth?

She was done. She wanted everything back that was hers.

The ungrateful kid? She's over it. The husband chasing his first love? Good riddance.

But the moment she walked away for real, both of them came running back.

"Baby, please. Just give me one more chance."

She didn't even look up.

Have you ever thought that a man sending his wife to his enemy means he doesn't love her?”

I raised my face to look at him, and he was smiling down at me like a sick maniac. He continued on, and I was trying to understand what he was trying to say.

“You know, I would never let another man fuck my wife, especially one that looks like you. Exactly like you.”

“What?” I said breathlessly.

“I know who you are, Evangeline.”

The world seemed to pause as I heard my real name slip from his mouth. He caught me. He caught us. Is that why he called me here?

I suddenly couldn't speak. I just glared at him. He had no right to get mad!

“Funny how you walked right into my trap.”

My breathing came out in harsh exhales, I couldn't help but panic.

“The stupidest thing Antonio did was let me set my eyes on you. Surely you don't think I'm letting you go, right?”

“Nico–”

…..

Sent by her older husband to sleep with his young, hot enemy to get something from him, she fails, badly.

Now, she's in a mess, blackmailed into working for him because she lustfully crawled back for a second time with him without her husband's knowledge.

Things aren't always as they seem.

By Literally Someone Who Should Not Be Trusted With Weapons

There are three things you should know about me:

I’m a werewolf.


I accidentally shot a penguin during vampire training. (He survived. He also now hates me.)


I was convinced I was going to wake up on my seventeenth birthday mated to the Alpha’s son. You know, tall, broody, fated leadership, cheekbones that could cut glass. Standard hormonal delusion stuff.

Instead?

I woke up with nothing.

No mate bond. No swoony connection. Just a hollow chest, a bruised ego, and the leftover trauma of showing the entire pack my toilet paper tail the night before.

And then he showed up.

Lucien. Cold eyes. Sharper jaw. Definitely a vampire. Definitely the enemy. Definitely the guy I’m supposed to kill on sight.

So, obviously, he turns out to be my mate.

Now I’m stuck between a blood feud, a pack that wants him dead, and a face that turns into a tomato every time he so much as looks at me.

Fate’s funny like that.

And by funny, I mean screw you, Moon Goddess, I am not emotionally stable enough for this.

After the wedding, my husband moved his dead fiancée's mother into our guest room. The whole town called it the kindest thing they'd ever seen.
Every morning, Dione made me a green smoothie. Her grandmother's recipe, she said. Good for the nerves.
I never drank a single one. I poured them all into the chicken feed.
In my last life, I drank them. One a day, for thirty days.
Then I started losing time. I would blink at breakfast and come back at dinner. I found notes in my own handwriting that I never wrote.
I begged Julian to take me to a doctor. He held my shoulders and smiled. "You're just tired, baby. Drink your smoothie."
On the thirtieth night, I fell asleep in my own bed, in my own body.
I never woke up. Someone else did.
This time, every glass went to Nugget, the smallest of my backyard hens.
And one night, a hen crowed in my backyard.
Hens don't crow. And we don't have a rooster.

I crawled out of a mental hospital in the middle of the night—bleeding, broken, and desperate to see my husband.

Instead, I found him toasting champagne with the sister who put me there.

My daughter was starved in an orphanage. My father died alone, his grave unmarked.

And my husband? He threw me back into the snow to die.

A stranger pulled me from the cold. He didn’t offer comfort. He offered a choice.

“Do you want to make them pay?”

Now the man who buried me is begging on his knees. But hell taught me one thing:

Some sins don’t deserve forgiveness.

"Don't try to run away again, Mackenzie. You can't. You will not. I will chase you, capture you, and make you surrender until every part of your mind, body, and soul is mine, and mine alone."

All Mackenzie Torsney ever wanted as a loving wife was the love of her husband and the acceptance of her mother-in-law. However, all her efforts were met with betrayal when she caught her husband in bed with another woman on the day she was diagnosed with a brain tumor.

Devastated, Mackenzie goes to a bar to drown her pain in a bottle. There, she meets a handsome stranger with whom she begs to have sex. All hell breaks loose when she finds out the handsome stranger is the most influential Axford, her husband's brother! And she is pregnant with his child! Mackenzie is forced to flee from the city, from the Axfords. She would do anything to keep her twin babies away from their greedy billionaire clutches. She can run, but she can't hide. Nobody hides from Chase Axford, especially not a woman he desires with every fiber of his being.

"Stop—"
The word barely formed before his grip adjusted, tightening just enough to keep me where I was. The kiss deepened, pinning me still as his tongue slid inside my mouth and demanded for a response.
My breath caught, oxygen thinning as his hand started to move on my body—sliding down my hips, grabbing my legs and pulled me closer than I allowed.
My pulse spiked as I remembered where we were. "Nate—"
He didn't stop. If anything, my resistance only sharpened something in him.
His hand moved between my legs and cupped my core. He groaned over my lips.
"I can fuck you here," Nate whispered against my lips. "You're fucking wet, Sienna. You're so ready for me—"
"Stop—" I gasped when his fingers slid inside my panties. "Nate.. oh—"
Two fingers filled my entrance swiftly. I grabbed on his sleeve as he shoved his fingers even deeper inside me.
"Fuck, Sienna—" he hissed and crashed his mouth on me.
Nate moved his fingers in and out of me, and I whimpered in pleasure and panic that someone might see us here.
"Nate…" I moaned. "Please—"
"Please, what?" he asked, fingers moving faster inside me.
"Fuck—" I tightened my grip on his shoulders and spread my legs even wider. "Nate—"
My knees weakened and I started to shake as the pool of heat started to form under my navel. Nate held my body even tighter, making sure I won't fall with every thrust of his fingers.
As his strokes became faster and harder, I buried my face on his chest. And with one more shove of his fingers, my whole body shook and I climaxed—
Right there, in the middle of a dark corridor, with my husband's friend.


After witnessing her husband's betrayal, the perfect wife Sienna drowns herself in a bar, contemplating a hookup to numb herself. But unexpectedly, her husband's friend Nate shows up, drives away her would-be one-night stand, and demands that she sleep with him:
"Think about it. If you sleep with me tonight, it's not just about pleasure, Sienna. It's about power. It's about making him feel something he hasn't yet—the sting of betrayal by someone he trusted."

I was accused of cheating the moment I became pregnant.
My husband, Ryan Xavier, had been diagnosed infertile, yet he believed the child was not his. He divorced me without hesitation and destroyed my reputation, even though I had never betrayed him. The truth surfaced too late. The doctor admitted he had made a serious mistake and implanted the wrong embryo. The baby I was carrying belonged to Kian Xavier, Ryan's identical twin and the most feared billionaire in the city.
With no way out, I accepted Kian's offer of a one-year contract marriage meant only to protect the child. There was supposed to be no love and no intimacy, but feelings were never part of the plan. When Ryan learned the truth, the man who once abandoned me became obsessed with taking me back and tearing my new life apart. Then came the final truth. I was carrying twins conceived from the same accident, but with different fathers. One child belonged to Kian, the other to Ryan. Trapped between two brothers, I had no escape and no easy choice.

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.

The day I discovered my husband, Vincent, was cheating on me with my younger sister, I was seven months pregnant. I drove away in a panic, only to end up in a car accident.
When I woke up in the family’s underground clinic, Vincent was pressing a gun to his own forehead, begging me to forgive him.
My father immediately ordered Elena to leave Sicily.
From that day on, Vincent took over every family affair, big or small, never allowing me to worry about a single thing.
I never heard from Elena again.
Not until our son was suddenly hospitalized with acute pneumonia.
I rushed back to the family’s private hospital in the middle of the night.
Through the half-open hospital room door, I saw my parents and Elena, who were supposed to be thousands of miles away in Siberia.
Elena was bent over the bedside, sobbing.
"Leo is my child. Why can't he even call me Mom? Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"
Vincent wrapped his arms around her, his face full of tenderness.
"I know you've suffered, sweetheart. But if Isabella finds out that her baby actually died in that car accident, there's no telling how many people she'll drag down with her. You know what she's capable of."
I froze outside the door.

A madman attacked the concert hall. I threw myself over my son, taking every blow meant for him. My spine shattered in three places.

My husband Arthur subdued the attacker and rushed us to the hospital—the picture of a devoted, loving spouse.

It was only after hearing his conversation with the doctor that I finally saw his true colors.

My crippling injury was merely collateral damage. My son Ethan? Nothing but a living cornea donor for Mia—the cherished daughter he had with his first love.

He treated my child like spare parts, never knowing Mia isn't even his blood.

The biggest regret of my life was letting my son intern at our family company.

Jonah had barely started his internship when another intern named Presley Shaw accused him of sexual assault. Of course, the security cameras on that floor just happened to be down for maintenance that day.

I panicked. I listened to my husband, Curtis, and privately paid Presley two million dollars to keep quiet. I thought money could buy us peace.

Instead, she posted the transfer records and a recording of our conversation online, accusing us of paying her to make the accusation disappear.

The backlash was overwhelming. My son, who wouldn’t hurt a fly and spent most of his time painting alone in his studio, was doxxed. Obscenities were spray-painted across our front door. The police took him away, and while he was being held in jail awaiting trial, the pressure kept mounting until he saw no way out.

In the end, he slit his wrists, believing it was the only way left to prove his innocence.

The company collapsed into bankruptcy. In the chaos, Curtis drained our accounts and ran off with Presley.

Only then did I understand. From the beginning, they had set the whole thing up to destroy my son and me.

On the anniversary of Jonah’s death, I jumped from the roof of our company building.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Jonah was supposed to begin his internship.

This time, I would never let my son go anywhere near that hell again.

She sacrificed a brilliant career to be his secret wife. But on their anniversary, he gifted his precious first love a $15M piano, while tossing her a dog-eared cookbook. In that moment, seven years of silent devotion died. The countdown began.

For thirty days, she watched his other woman move in. For thirty days, she endured his neglect and cruelty. She let them believe they had won. All while quietly securing the world-class career she once walked away from.

When the clock struck zero, she boarded the flight without a look back. He was left holding the empty life she built, finally screaming a name he never truly valued—into a silence she no longer cared to hear.

My whole body began to quiver as I looked up at Ryan who wore a smug or was it? I couldn't tell as my vision was blurred with tears.

"What is the meaning of this?" I questioned still in disbelief. Where had it all gone wrong? We were happy, he respected me and so did I...I even fell in love with him so how could he do this to me?!.

"It's exactly what it says in the paper, Ciara"

"And what is that?" I stubbornly inquired. It was as if I didn't want to believe what the paper read until Ryan says it with his own mouth.

A part of me still wanted to fight for whatever we still have left; still wanted to protect our marriage.

But then he'd said it. Ryan had uttered those words I so desperately dreaded," I want a divorce, Ciara"


Ciara is the heiress to her father's company but she left all of that to be in a contract marriage with Ryan. It was supposed to be a 'no-strings-attached' kind of feeling but, she couldn't help but fall in love with him. Just when she wanted to start a clean slate on their first anniversary, she was handed a divorce paper.

Ryan is a billionaire and a man with a hardened heart. He never saw Ciara as something more than just a 'fake wife' who was willing to help him out with a case. Deciding that he had had enough, Ryan hands Ciara a divorce paper setting himself free from her but 5years later, he seems to have a change on heart and wants to win Ciara back at all cost.

But on his way to the office of the new investor of his company he is overcomed by a welling shock that the name of his new investor was Ciara. The same Ciara he'd known and once loved.

What happens when this two dual meets for the first time since their rough divorce? Would they rekindle their feelings or would they leave it at that?
Could second chance love prevail?

Find out in this long rollacoaster ride!

Sabrina Parker used to fall deeply in love with a man named Simon; she did everything and anything for Simon and for her relationship with him as his wife; she sacrificed everything for him, yet what he gave in exchange was pain, tears, and nothing but all of his lies. That's why she decided to end her suffering by filing a divorce, yet Simon won't let her go unless Sabrina will do something for him at last, and that is where he already made a deal with her wife- no, her ex-wife, to be precise."Marry me again and be with me as my wife for two years.
After that, I will let you go completely, Sabrina."She knew she deserved a life free from Simon's deceit, but his demand forced her to confront her future head-on. That day, Sabrina her self needs to give an answer to her Ex-husband, as she stood at the crossroads of her life, Sabrina realized that the choice she made would determine whether she remained bound to her past or moved forward toward a future where she could reclaim her happiness and peace. Her decision would define her path, and she braced herself to confront whatever lay ahead.

I couldn't believe what I had just witnessed. The man I was forced to marry, the one who had vowed to love and cherish me, was caught in a passionate embrace with another woman.
The dressing room had become a secret place for the groom, my groom and his mistress.
I knew I was not supposed to feel anything because I do not love him, right? But why is it that it hurts? Because it hurts so much that I can't breathe.


Natalie Beckham gets forced to marry Tristan Detar by her parents so they could solidify their business that was barely standing, but when she finds out her husband is cheating on her with her sister who is not as innocent as she claims to be, what does she do?
With betrayals and manipulation placed in every step she takes, how does she deal with it?
Who stands by her and helps her face her challenges?

“I’ll give you anything, Elsa—money, a car, a house, jewelry—just agree to the transplant. Ria really needs it.” I couldn’t believe his audacity. Was this really my husband, trying to bargain my body to save his fiancée?
“Sorry, I’m pregnant. I can’t donate a kidney,” I said, my voice shaky but determined. Anger boiled inside me, but I knew he was powerful. The pretend marriage was over, and his true colors were revealed. Afraid of what he might do to me, I didn’t yell or fight him. I just wanted to escape this nightmare, to break free from this cage I was trapped in.
But his reaction was even more chilling. He looked at me with no emotion.
“We’ll have an abortion.” His words hit me like a bomb. I couldn’t believe how coldly he spoke about ending his own child’s life.

Three days after I died, the morgue called my husband Sebastian to collect my ashes.
He was kissing another woman when he hit speaker, his voice cold and dismissive: "She's dead? Cremate her. Don't call me again."
And just like that, my body was wheeled into the cremation chamber.
When he finally showed up to collect my remains, he smashed the urn on the floor and ground every fragment of my ashes into the tile with his shoe.
"Playing dead? What a pathetic stunt," he sneered. "Tell her the anniversary of my mother's death is coming up. She'd better show up at the cemetery on her knees, or even if she really is dead, I'll scatter her ashes in the sewer myself."
But he didn't know—I truly was dead.
My soul was bound to him, forced to drift at his side as he planned a lavish wedding with his adopted sister Claire—his mother's true killer.
By the time he discovered the truth and exposed Claire at the altar, I had already vanished.
He lost his mind, racing to the ocean to search for my ashes.
Never knowing that the remains he'd crushed like garbage under his shoe—the "fake ashes" he'd dismissed as part of my act—
Were all that was left of 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.

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?

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.

"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.

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.

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."

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?

"Abort it," my husband said, his voice completely dead.
This was the man who had just fought off the guards to save me. The man who swore to protect me. But after one single croak from that cursed one-eyed raven, he condemned our third child to death.
My in-laws held me down. My own parents watched in cold silence.
As the abortion poison tore through my body and my blood stained the carpet, they all let out a sigh of relief.
Why? Why was this entire family so obsessed with my womb? Why did everyone obey a bird over a doctor?
I thought I had married into a prestigious noble family. I thought I was just a victim of their twisted traditions.
Until midnight, when I dragged my broken body past the study and saw it through the cracked door:
Black candles. A bloody pentagram. And my mother-in-law kneeling before the portrait of a man.
I finally understood the terrifying truth...

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.

I thought I could keep my marriage secret a little longer.
Then my son got sick.
My wife brought him to Mercer Group, was handed a fake suspension notice, and heard my assistant call our child a bastard.
Ten minutes later, she placed our feverish son on my mother's desk.
"Meet your grandson."

He groaned in my ears, cupping my breasts and dragging me to the edge of the pool, with my round butt grinding against his groin as he set his cock loose.
Going all in, he tease me with his fingers, caressing my clit and enjoying the subtle moans that escape my lips and he played with my joy button. Slowly, he slipped a finger in, thrusting in out of me with his finger coated in my wetness.
“Mom, I had no idea you were this tight,” he managed, controlling my body and taking slow, steady thrusts before increasing the pace and hitting her harder.


" I Found him, my mate, but unfortunately, he turned out to be my responsibility, whom I should protect but I desire him more than anything else. Can I have him?"
Alexia, the feared and mighty Luna Queen of the werewolf world gets asked for a favour by an old friend.
" Protect my son till he is of age"


Alexia agrees but what she did not expect is to find herself getting attracted to a boy old enough to be her son, nor did she expect to find out she was paired to him for eternity?
Status differs them apart, age does and in a way enmity does?
How?
It is prophesied he is meant to kill her and take over, becoming the strongest instead.
Can this come to pass or can they find a way to conquer all and rule together?
The real trouble begins when his real identity goes out and the Lycans are seeking for their king.

"Arthur, please! Send someone to Black Forest—Noah's been taken by rogue shifters! They'll kill him!" I hit the marble floor hard, blood trickling from my forehead.

My mate, the most feared enforcer in this territory, couldn't be bothered. He was too busy looking for his lover's precious pet.

"Eve, you're sick—lying about our kid to get attention?" He gestured dismissively. "Throw her in the cells until she stops this bullshit."

He locked me up all night.

Next morning, he let me out, figuring I'd gotten the message.

He didn't know that thirty minutes ago, the gate guards brought a blood-soaked box.

Our son's head was inside.

At the school's field day, my six-year-old son pointed straight at me and shouted for everyone to hear, "I'd rather be alone than with her! She's the worst mom in the world!"
He hated that I couldn't afford expensive toys, hated that we lived in a tiny apartment, hated that I was just a useless woman.
Then he turned and ran straight into the arms of the woman who destroyed my family, calling her name in the sweetest voice, just because she handed him an ice cream.
My ex-husband leaned against his luxury car, sneering, "Nora, if you admit you were wrong, I'll let you come back. We can get married again."
Looking at their smug faces, I finally let go of the hands I'd been gripping tightly for four years.
"All right," I said, smiling as I signed away custody, "Since you two love each other so much, I hope you and your perfect little family enjoy every minute together."
They thought I was playing hard to get, but they had no idea—this time, I really meant it.

They say Caspian Vale has a body count higher than his net worth. I don't care about either.

I only care that my brother's last voicemail spelled his name like a curse.

I didn't apply to Vale Industries for a paycheck. I applied for a funeral.. his.

Then he proposed. Not with a ring but a contract. My mother's hospital wing for my signature on a marriage certificate. I said yes because saying no would've been too easy and dumb.

Here's the thing about monsters okay??
They’re only scary until you see them brush their teeth. Until they hold your hair back. Until they get jealous over a waiter's glance and you realize you like it.

One night and one mistake. Now I'm digging through my brother's past and finding holes I didn't create just because the shooter wasn't Caspian.

The shooter was aiming at me.

But Caspian? He just took the blame like a man who's been waiting to fall.

I came to destroy a king. I didn't expect to find a martyr wearing a crown of thorns and a wedding band I can't take off.

In that case, let the game begin.

On our graduation trip, my boyfriend and I ran into three killers in the middle of nowhere.

I stripped for them. I played nice. I told them whatever they wanted to hear.

That gave my boyfriend the chance to run. He came back with the sheriff’s deputies, and they saved me.

But when we got back to campus, word got out that three men had taken turns with me.

Every single day, strangers tore into me online:

【Three guys at once. Be honest, she liked it.】

【A real woman would’ve fought to the death to keep herself clean. Why’d she throw herself at them like that? No shame at all.】

【If that were me, I’d have deleted myself.】

My boyfriend got colder with me by the day.

Then, right after he got his slot at the state police academy, he broke up with me. His reason:

“I’m sorry.

“Every time I look at you, I can’t stop picturing all those guys on you, and I just…

“You’re dirty.”

Those last two words were the straw that broke me.

In my despair, I walked off the edge of a cliff.

And when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day we ran into the killers.

Kasumi Azai is unwillingly thrust into a crucial negotiation between the Red Sun and Blazing Winter packs, pressured by her uncle to marry Severin de Rosa, the son of the Blazing Winter pack's Alpha. But her plans are disrupted when she discovers that her Alpha mate, Thaddeus de Rosa, is actually the Alpha of the Blazing Winter pack and secretly desires her. Complicating things further, Thaddeus's twin brother, Theodore de Rosa, also claims Kasumi as his mate, while their uncle, Cretheus de Rosa, sets his sights on her too. As desire and duty clash, Kasumi must navigate a dangerous path to maintain peace between the packs, where almost everyone, except for her Alpha mate's son, seems to be after her. Can she avoid conflict and prevent a full-blown war between the packs?

“Tell me the truth, Juno. Why are you really here?”

Juno has survived by becoming exactly what powerful men want—a beautiful, obedient mistress. Her only goal is to collect enough money from fifty-year-old billionaire Leo Cavendish to escape her family’s debts.

She never expected his sons to become her biggest problem.

Caleb is the dangerous one: cold, proud, and fiercely possessive. He treats Juno like an enemy, yet his eyes reveal a secret he refuses to admit.

Orion is softer, haunted by the loss of his mother and drawn to Juno’s kindness. The more she comforts him, the harder it becomes to remember that she is only supposed to be passing through.

Then Leo discovers the tension between his sons and his mistress.

The Cavendish family is about to tear itself apart.

And when Juno learns she is carrying a child, three men suddenly have a reason to claim her.

But only one of them can be the father.

I helped him claw his way up from nothing—from the family's bastard to king of the underworld.

I saved him when he got jumped in the streets. Took bullets for him when his father beat him half dead. We fought our way up from nothing, survived assassination attempts, built an empire that made people fear our name.

I thought we'd always stand together.

Until the day I nearly died giving birth, and all I found in the bassinet was a stack of cash.

I asked him where our baby was. He couldn't look me in the eye. His stepmother walked out holding my son. Smiled and said she deserved this, a child of her own, since she couldn't have one herself. He'd given my baby to another woman.

Turns out he'd been sleeping with her the whole time.

I threw the money in his face. I spent the next six years trying to get my son back.

Last week, when some small-time gang grabbed him, I went in alone with a gun. Bullets flew past my ears, kicked up concrete dust. I fought my way to the back and pulled him out. At the hospital, he pushed me away, crying, "Why'd you have to come?! We could've been a real family by now! Just leave! Leave me alone!"

I stared at his small face for a long time.

Finally, I said, "Call me mom one last time. Then I'll let you go."

Five years after the Cataclysm, wasteland survivor Emily Valen forged an identity as a Data Verifier to infiltrate Genesis Corp’s underground lab. The role was a cover for a breeding program using Zero, a captive prime Resonant, as a donor — and Emily had been chosen.Before anaesthesia kicked in, she stole a vial of mandatory symbiosis serum and escaped into the wasteland as the facility crumbled. Against one-in-four odds, she survived, carrying a child that should never have existed.By four, Adam sensed electromagnetic signals for kilometres. He could kill Resonants and steal their powers. Emily trained him to hide his spinal port and pretend to be normal. When their supplies ran out, she brought him out of hiding. She joined Victor’s disciplined squad, acting as a helpless widow to learn the wasteland’s rules and plan their escape. Yet quarantine genetic scans, high-priority bounty targets, and Adam’s secret are closing fast.

"Aveline, a world without you means nothing to me."
The dragon's scalding blood splattered across my tombstone, melting the thick blanket of snow.
Five minutes ago, he had severed the crimson fox's head—vengeance for me.
I died at the hands of my most cherished companion, died in a carefully orchestrated betrayal. I'd wielded the full power of the Court to elevate that pitiful low-born wretch to godhood, only for him to join forces with my dear sister and plunge a blade into my heart from behind.
And the dragon war god I had scorned—the one I'd humiliated and treated as nothing more than a beast slave—defied imperial decree, razed an entire city, and severed his own life force. All for me.
I watched his dragonfire extinguish completely in the bitter cold. My soul reached out to embrace him, but passed through nothing but endless snow.
Until a blinding light pierced through my vision.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself staring up at the familiar domed ceiling of the Celestial Hall.
I had returned to three years ago, to the Binding Ceremony that sealed my fate.
Reborn into a second chance, those vermin who climbed to power on dragon bones will finally get the hell they deserve.

"Is this your way of seducing me?" Clifton looked at the woman before him, wearing only a thin nightgown, her perfect curves exposed to his eyes.
"I admit, I'm attracted to you." Clifton suddenly lowered his head, his thin lips biting down on my collarbone, his fingers trailing down from my full chest, slipping between my thighs.
I was pinned down on the bed by Miranda, feeling the pleasure he brought to my body.
"Be good and let me in." Clifton thrust into me forcefully.
After suffering betrayal from her ex-husband and cousin, Miranda married the disfigured and disabled Clifton as his contract wife to cover her company's losses.
But an accident led Miranda to discover that Clifton was neither disfigured nor disabled—he was actually the underground king who controlled the entire city.
Miranda became afraid and prepared to leave this terrifying man, but Clifton kept dragging her back: "The contract is void. I want not only your body, but also your heart."
This time, will she truly fall in love with this dangerous man?

"It's still her." Three words.
That was all it took for the carefully constructed world of my last five years to shatter into dust at my feet. Zane didn't even have the decency to look away as he said it.
For twenty years, I had been the third wheel. The reliable shadow to Jovienne's brilliant sun. I had buried my own feelings for Zane so deep I almost forgot they existed, only daring to dig them up and confess them after Jovi had left the country and broken his heart.
We built a life. A marriage.
I truly believed, in my foolish, hopeful heart, that it was my happy ending.
Now Jovienne was back, and the illusion was gone. The love of my life saw me only as a consolation prize.
As my world collapses, the last person I expect comfort from is her husband—a man as cold and polished as he is powerful.
Vance sees the same betrayal in my eyes that he sees in his wife's.
Leaning in, his voice a dangerous whisper, he proposed the unthinkable: "They are living in the past. Let's be each other's revenge. What do you say, Nerissa?"
I should avoid at all costs. It was a game that could burn our broken worlds to the ground.
But as I looked into his eyes and saw the same raw, humiliating betrayal reflected back at me, the answer poised on my lips wasn't "no."
It was a terrifying, thrilling question. "What," I whispered, my voice steadier than I felt, "did you have in mind?"

When her father fled with his mistress, leaving crushing debts behind, Freya Gilbert had nowhere to turn. Crashing Alpha Jonas's welcome ceremony in desperation, she never expected to find her fated mate there. But it wasn't gentle Jonas who made her wolf howl "mate." It was the dangerous, devastatingly powerful Niklaus Lockwood.
One scorching night of passion sealed her fate.
Niklaus already had his perfect chosen mate, the elegant Rebekah. Unwilling to abandon his plans, he offered Freya a cold business deal: be his contract Luna for three years, play the perfect wife in public, and he'd clear her debts. When their arrangement expired, she'd accept his rejection and disappear quietly.
Freya thought she could survive a loveless marriage. She was wrong.
Three years later, she's fallen hopelessly for the Alpha who sees her as nothing more than a gold-digging Omega. On their anniversary night, the very day their contract expires, Niklaus chooses Rebekah.
The message couldn't be clearer.
But when Freya files for divorce and moves out first, Niklaus's carefully controlled world shatters. The mate bond he's suppressed for years, and he never expected his obedient, compliant wife to actually leave him.
"I, Freya Gilbert, reject you, Niklaus Lockwood."
The words that should have set them both free only ignite a fire that threatens to consume them both.
Can a love born from a business contract survive the flames of pride and betrayal? Or will the most powerful Alpha in the territory lose his true mate because he was too blind to see what was right in front of him?
When the contract ends, the real battle for love begins.