687 Book(s) Related to don't look up real story

"Tell me to stop." His mouth grazed her throat, unhurried, deliberate. "Say it, and I'll let you walk out of here alive."

Elena didn't say it.

She was sent to Chicago to destroy Luca Moretti, the Devil King who rebuilt his empire on blood and grief and the ghost of a dead wife. She was trained for this. Weaponized for this. She knows exactly how obsession looks when it wears the mask of devotion.

The problem? She's wearing his dead wife's face.

And the longer she stays inside his penthouse, his bed, his hands, his dangerous, devastating tenderness, the harder it becomes to remember which part of this is the mission and which part is something she's never been allowed to have.

She came here to kill him.

He knows.

He's keeping her anyway.

And somewhere in Viktor's buried files is a secret that won't just shatter their future, it will rewrite everything Elena believes she survived

I'd tried to escape from my groom, but I failed at the last moment before our wedding vows were to be exchanged. My parents had sold me to the most ruthless mob boss in Chicago because my father owed a huge debt to Anthonio Ferhaag. He was a sixty-year-old pervert with a strange fetish. Everyone knew I was going to be his sex slave instead of his wife. When it was my turn to say my wedding vows, a group of armed men burst into the church and shot Anthonio dead.
I thought God had just answered my prayer to stop the wedding, but I was wrong. The wedding went ahead. In his blood-stained tuxedo, Zeal Ferhaag, took the place of his adoptive father, to marry me. He then took me to his mansion and placed me in his bedroom. He treated me like his wife, except for one thing: he never touched me. Rumor had it that Zeal was gay and had erectile dysfunction. But one night, when I tried to verify the rumors, I was shocked to discover that the rumors were not false at all.

I bit my lip, trying to think of an answer. “It’s not that—”
A gasp left my lips as he grabbed the back of my neck tightly. His lips were dangerously close to my ears now. When I dared to look at him, my heart stopped for a second.
“You’re a fake, aren’t you?”
...
Vivian never imagined she would marry Dominic DeLaurentis, the ruthless mafia Don feared across Rome and beyond.
The bride was supposed to be her sister, Veronica, but she ran away, and to save the family, Vivian had to step forward.
All she had to do was play the part of the perfect bride. She becomes both prisoner and plaything, bound by the marriage contract and by his control.
However... beneath her fear lies a dangerous longing, a hunger she cannot deny. She discovers his great obsession.
Will Dominic also ever realize her true identity?
The wrong bride and the wrong beginning, but perhaps it could become the right love in the end.

When the formidable matriarch of the city's most powerful mafia family dies, she leaves behind one final command. Every member of the family must return to the ancestral estate and remain there for seven days. Each evening, they must gather for dinner. Only if they fulfill her wishes will her fortune be divided.

None of them expect the true inheritance to be buried beneath silver.

As the first dinner begins, an ornate silver dome is lifted to reveal a secret the family has spent decades hiding. The following night uncovers another. With every revelation, old alliances fracture, accusations fly, and the walls of the estate close in around them. Lies become weapons, blood ties become liabilities, and everyone at the table has something to lose.

For the Don, the week becomes a nightmare. The family he trusted is not the family he thought he knew, and the memory of his dead wife—killed in a tragic accident three years ago—haunts every secret brought to light. Meanwhile, an overlooked cousin from an illegitimate branch and a mysterious distant relative unexpectedly find themselves caught in the center of a deadly game neither of them asked to play. Can they ride out the storm by clinging to each other?

Someone has spent years preparing this reckoning. Every dinner is another move in a carefully orchestrated plan. Every secret brings the family one step closer to ruin.

By the seventh night, the final silver dome will reveal a truth so devastating that nothing—not the family, the empire, or the inheritance—will ever be the same.

Elena Castillo has spent her entire life playing by the rules—until the world turned against her.
A star lawyer with a fraudulent license she never forged. A fiancé who crawls at her sister's feet like a dog. A family that manipulated her with false gratitude and endless emotional guilt, trapping her in an inescapable cycle of obligation she never owed.
Elena walks into a "spa" on Berlin Street seeking relief for an old injury—and straight into the arms of Dante Solis, the most feared Don in a century.
He was supposed to give her a massage. Instead, he claims her body, her name, and eventually—her soul.
Dante Solis doesn't do mercy. He doesn't do apologies. And he certainly doesn't do brides. But when Elena points a gun at his chest and pulls the trigger, the Godfather of the Solis family discovers something he's never felt before: obsession.
"Marry me," he offers. "I'll let you climb over everything I have to get to the top. But only if you're my wife."
Elena refuses to trade marriage for power. She believes in justice. In the law. In herself.
But when the same family that destroyed her career tries to sell her into a loveless alliance with Dante's own nephew, Elena must choose: remain the good girl who always loses—or become the Don's queen and make them all burn.
This is a story of betrayal and vengeance.
Of a woman who learns that the only law that matters is the one written in blood.
And of a man who would burn the world down just to watch her wear his crown.
🔞 Dark mafia romance. Age gap. Enemies-to-lovers. Forced proximity. He falls first, he falls harder. She has no idea who he is—until it's too late to run.

"Do you know what happens to girls who invade my space uninvited?" His voice was low.
"I... I'm not..."
"I don't kiss," he said, his gaze never leaving hers. "Never saw the point of it."
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
"But for you..." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I'll make an exception."
The kiss stole the air from her lungs. She pushed against his chest, desperate to break free.
But then... two words shattered everything.
"Luca! Brother!"
Sofia thought returning to the Virelli mansion after years abroad would feel like coming home.
Instead, she walks straight back into the orbit of Luca Virelli, her cold, ruthless foster brother and the feared head of the Italian mafia.
The same man who spent years making her feel like she didn't belong.
But something has changed.
Because the moment Luca sees her again, his icy indifference shifts into something far more dangerous.
OBSESSION.

Ryan Von Roald was exiled from his Kingdom by his Father in order to avoid going to war with a powerful Empire.

Instead of feeling depressed, the Sixth Prince of the Finis Kingdom even rejoiced because he could now do whatever he wanted.

With the help of the Magical Grimoire, whom he named Builder, Ryan embarked on a journey in creating his own Kingdom. However, this grand undertaking wasn't smooth sailing.

Soon, Ryan found himself fighting against nobles, and other factions who dared to get in his way, showing the world that even an exiled prince could build a majestic kingdom from scratch!


Support me in Patreon!
https://patreon.com/ElyonFantasy

He just regarded me, I suddenly felt self-conscious. What does he see me as now, did I change from the person he knew?

“Why am I still here, you just terminated my employment.” I broke the silence, for me, it was uncomfortable to stay under his dark gaze.

“I dismissed you from that job because you will be my personal assistant now.” He said. I stare at him like he has lost his mind, personal assistant?

Why would that be me, considering our past it will be awkward between us to work directly together?

“You are kidding, right?” He must be kidding because been his personal assistant? What for? I have planned out how I was going to survive in this company, by staying out of each other way and not crossing parts.

Only for him to wake up this morning and decide that should be his personal assistant.

“Am I?” No, he doesn't look like he's kidding. His expression is as serious as that of an ugly rock.

Madison Trent has a hidden secret, but not for long once a charming, antagonistic dominant named Zack Downs enters the picture. Madison, a single independent woman who refuses to be owned, finds herself in Zack’s arms when the mafia’s seedy underbelly sets their sites on her. Will Maddie accept his help or will she let her fear consume her?

When Aunt Luna let the AC repairman in, I was five, fast asleep in my bedroom.
By the time I woke up, the police were already bagging evidence. Aunt Luna was wrapped in a blanket, bruised and broken, staring blankly at the wall.
She never smiled again. Instead, she collected scars on her arms.
Her ex-husband Ethan dropped everything to hold her, promising it wasn't her fault. But the PTSD won. Two years later, she swallowed a lethal dose of pills. Ethan followed her in death the very same night.
Every year, my mom would take me to their graves, crying as she whispered: If only I hadn't let your aunt call that repairman.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the summer I was five!
Aunt Luna walked out of the kitchen with her phone, fanning herself.
"Stella, I called a guy to fix the AC. Be a good girl and go take your nap."
The next second, the front doorbell rang.
"Hello! HandyPro AC repair."
My blood ran ice-cold!
I recognized that voice—Jake Dalton.
The rapist who destroyed both our families in my past life!

My Mafia boss husband brought his late brother's widow and child back to our estate and demanded I move into the nanny's quarters..

This time, I didn't pull a gun and fight with him like I did in my past life. Instead, I brought out my suitcase to pack and make room.

Later, for our daughter's birthday, Julian gifted her a foal.

Beatrice's son cried and threw a tantrum, demanding it.

My five-year-old daughter calmly handed over the lead rope. "Daddy said Leo doesn't have a papa anymore, so from now on, my papa is his papa."

"I should learn to be generous."

At first, Julian was extremely gratified by our tolerance and maturity. But gradually, he panicked as he realized—

There was no more love in my eyes, and our daughter no longer opened her arms to ask for his hugs.

Little did he know, in our previous life, in order to protect that mother and son, he banished us to the subterranean water dungeon.

While my daughter and I contracted the plague, dying in despair amidst the stench and the gnawing of rats, he was holding that woman's hand in a brightly lit banquet hall, announcing to the entire Family that she would be under his lifelong protection.

Reborn into this life, my daughter and I no longer fought, no longer made a fuss.

But we also never needed Julian again.

My attempts to marry Ethan Ward had been derailed exactly seven times.
The first time, Peyton threw him a "surprise" party, and he was too hungover to make our City Hall appointment. 
The second time, she got into a minor fender bender and hysterically convinced him her neck was broken. He rode with her in the ambulance. 
The third time, right as we were signing the papers, she swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills over a bad breakup. Ethan literally carried her to the ER.
Fourth time, fifth time... it was Peyton. Every single time.

"Hurry up, Diana! This is the eighth time!" my best friend, Mia, shouted frantically. "There are only fifteen minutes left before City Hall locks their system at 5 PM sharp. Let's get this over with!"
We were just about to walk through the doors when a voice called out from the backseat of Ethan's car. It was Peyton Reed, his childhood best friend. Again.
"Wait a second! My lucky charm bracelet broke. I need to restring it."
Ethan stopped walking. 
"Okay. No rush," he said. 

Peyton kept her head down, fiddling with the red string and little beads, flashing me an innocent smile. "Don't be in such a hurry, Diana. I'll be done in a sec. I got this blessed lucky charm bracelet just for you two. It's supposed to bring luck to your marriage."
Then, as naturally as breathing, she held her clutch out to Ethan. "Hold this for me?"
He took it without a word.
The buzzing crowd of our friends went dead silent. Everyone exchanged awkward, pitying looks.
I stared at him, swallowing my anger. "Ethan, the system at the marriage bureau locks automatically at 5 PM. If we go in right now, we can just make it."
Ethan frowned, looking slightly annoyed by my pressure. "I'm already here, Diana. A few minutes won't kill us."

I looked at him standing by the car, patiently waiting for Peyton to fix her stupid string, and I suddenly laughed. 
I pulled out my phone and quickly typed out a message:
[You once said if my eighth attempt at getting married failed, I should give you a chance.]
[Get to City Hall before 5 PM.]

In my third year of marriage to Cassius, I saw his childhood sweetheart Serena post a photo on a luxury yacht with the caption: "My man always knows what I want."

That yacht was supposed to be my birthday gift.

I called the dealer. "Mr. Vitale transferred it to Miss Monte."

Cassius called immediately. "Stop checking up on me. I owed her this. Why are you so insecure?"

That night, he kicked my medication across the floor. "Stop reminding everyone I owe you my life."

Three years ago, I gave him my gas mask during a shootout. The toxins destroyed my lungs.

When he burned my face with an iron, he drove me to the hospital—until Serena called crying about a burst pipe.

He shoved me out into the pouring rain. "You're not going to die. She needs me more."

For the first time in three years, I realized I should stop saving a man who'd already chosen someone else.

At Thornfield Academy, power wears a perfect smile.
Old money. Legacy names. Students raised to rule the world before they even graduate. They call themselves untouchable. They call themselves saints.

They’re lying.

Jordan is not supposed to exist here. Not under this name. Not in this body. Disguised as James Blake, she’s hiding in plain sight, buried inside a school built on secrets, privilege, and rot. One wrong move and everything unravels. Her past. Her identity. The truth about the blood she left behind.

But Thornfield is not just another elite academy.

The students are watching. Testing. Hunting for weakness.

The pretty sinners who break people for fun.
The dirty saints who pretend they’re innocent.

And then there’s Teddy Phillips. Too kind for a place like this. Too close for comfort.

Then there's the captain of the Soccer team. The only one who might see through her before she’s ready.

Because Jordan did not come here just to survive.

She came here because Thornfield is hiding something.

And if she is right, the lies buried in these halls are worth killing for.

In a school where legacy is everything, the truth is the most dangerous thing of all.

The System told me to do good deeds during the apocalypse.

It also told me to change the world through love.

I've always been the cooperative type. So I raised my blade, brought it down, and carved through the scum of this world—one slash at a time.

The System lost its mind, shrieking inside my head at a deafening pitch:

"AHHH! Host! Why are you killing people?! This counts as evil! Points will be deducted!"

I flicked the blood off my blade and looked up at the ground littered with zombies I'd decapitated.

Then at the man who had just shoved a living person into a horde of zombies as feed—the same man I'd put my blade straight through the throat of.

My fingertip traced the character carved into the hilt: Love.

"What's the problem?"

I shot back. "I'm using my love to send them exactly where they belong. A physical deliverance counts as a good deed."

Five years ago, the Savage family poisoned my parents, broke both my legs, and threw me into the river. I barely survived — pulled out by passing mercenaries, I spent five years building an army that answers only to me.

Today, five years later, I’ve returned with that army for revenge. I thought they would be terrified and beg for mercy. I never imagined they’d be insane enough to kidnap my daughter — a daughter I didn’t even know existed, Mia.

She’s crying in an abandoned warehouse, her tiny hand clutching an old coat I left behind five years ago, calling out “Daddy.”

My wife, to save her, is taking off her dress in front of another man.

Outside the warehouse, ten thousand soldiers are waiting for my command.

And in my heart, there is only one thought: kill them all.

After I found out about the secret admirer he’s been talking to for the past two months the, he throws divorce papers at my face after being married for six months. He claims that his admirer would give him half of the Williamson cooperation. He thinks I’m the naive middle class woman he married but what he doesn’t know is I’m the owner of the Williamson Cooperation, the company I inherited from my father’s as his only child just before he died. Throws out of the house, I decided to reclaim my power and move back to my estate. I hosted a convention where the secret admirer would be handing him the properties and I put everyone in shock when I show up and they find out it’s me. Richard begs at my feet for mercy but I totally ignore him and choose his personal assistant who has always been good to me from the very day I stepped into Richard’s mansion as his wife

For the sake of my marriage, I turned down a promotion and became the perfect wife and mother.
When my six-year-old son was rushed to the ER with an asthma attack in the dead of night, I sat vigil until dawn.
What I didn't expect was to hear my husband, just outside the emergency room doors, bragging to a friend about his mistress — and sneering that I was "bland and boring."
What hurt worse: my own son had been bought off by the other woman, and was now faking illness with practiced ease to cover for his father's affair.
My husband's scheming, my son's betrayal — seven years of devotion, ground into the dirt.
In that moment, something inside me died for good.
If this family is a filthy, lie-riddled con, then I'm taking back every ounce of love and sacrifice I ever poured into it. And I'm not looking back.

She was an S-rank spy — cold, brilliant, unstoppable. Then her own people betrayed her, and she died.
She woke up as the family idiot everyone laughed at.
Scarred face. Malnourished. Dead last in school. Abused by her stepmother, framed by her sister, mocked by the entire campus.
The original owner of this body could take it. She couldn't.
Call her ugly? She formulates her own skincare remedy — and stuns the room.
Call her stupid? Top university presidents come knocking at her door. Legendary doctors beg for her secret formulas. Global superstars chase her down for a collaboration.
All she wanted was a quiet, ordinary life this time around.
Instead, her covers keep blowing, and without even trying, she's climbed back to the top of the world.
Meanwhile, the most mysterious young lord in the city opens her classified file from her past life. A slow smile crosses his face.
"This so-called idiot… is rather interesting."

“No panties again,” he growled low, fingers sliding through her slick folds. “You’ve been waiting for this.”

Isla’s breath hitched. “Dante—”

“Quiet.” He sank two fingers deep, curling hard. “Look at me while you come undone for the wrong brother.”

Her head fell back; he tightened his grip on her throat just enough.

“Dante… please…”

He replaced his fingers with his cock in one brutal thrust. She cried out, legs wrapping around him as he fucked her against the wall—deep, punishing, possessive.

“Say my name when you come,” he rasped, hips snapping. “Not his. Mine.”

I was sold to the ruthless Don, Dante Romano.
Instead, they married me off to his identical twin, Damian—thinking it would keep me tame.
They were wrong.
Legally I’m Damian’s wife. But every night it’s Dante who slips into my room, who pins me down in the dark, who fucks me slow and filthy until I’m sobbing his name into the pillow.
One brother owns me on paper. The other owns my body, my secrets, my breaking heart.
In a world of blood, betrayal and twisted vows, I’m falling for the monster I was never supposed to touch......

He built an empire from nothing. His best friend put a bullet in his skull for it.

Victor Morti spent twenty years clawing his way from the slums to the top of the East Coast underworld—only to die on his own jet, betrayed by the man he trusted more than his own blood.

He wakes up eighteen again. Broke. Powerless. Back in the slums where it all began.

This time, he knows every move his enemies will make before they make it.
This time, no one he loves gets left unprotected.
This time, betrayal dies before it has the chance to grow.

Tags: #Rebirth #Revenge #MafiaRise

Princess Penelope would rather die than marry the feared Crimson Dragon King.

On the night before the wedding, she throws herself to her death.

At that exact moment, in another world, Joseline Hernandez falls from the rooftop of her school building after someone pushes her. Betrayed and exhausted from a life spent being blamed for her father's death, she dies with only one thought : revenge.

But death was not the end.

Joseline wakes up inside the body of Princess Penelope, the very princess who was supposed to become the bride of the terrifying Crimson Dragon King, Drakarys.

Desperate to return home and uncover who murdered her, Joseline searches for a way back to her world. Yet the deeper she enters the dragon kingdom, the more she realizes something is wrong. The dragons are hiding secrets. The royal court is dangerous and the Crimson King himself is nothing like the monster humans claim him to be.

When no path home appears, Joseline makes a choice :

If she must live as Penelope, then she will survive as the Crimson Dragon King's bride even if it means falling in love with the King she meant to fear.

The apocalypse arrives, rain stops worldwide, outdoor temperatures soar to 60 degrees Celsius, and everyone fights and loses their humanity over a single drop of water.
But I gave away dozens of cases of bottled water that I had stockpiled at home to my neighbors downstairs for free.
People laughed at my overflowing compassion; my wicked ex even hoarded two tons of water, waiting to see me thirsty and begging her on my knees like a dog.
But what they didn't know was that I didn't need water at all.
Because I'm not human.

I spent six years trying to warm an emotionally distant husband and raising a son who learned to copy his coldness. On the day my civil assault case went to trial, they flew to Switzerland to comfort my husband's ex-girlfriend. When my five-year-old admitted he had deleted the strongest video evidence because he didn't want Vanessa to cry, the last bit of love in me went quiet. By the time they realized a wife and mother could stop chasing them, I had already chosen divorce, distance, and a life that belonged to me.

I took a shortcut through the alley and watched Dante Marchetti put a bullet in a man like it was nothing.
He saw my face.
That was the end of my normal life.
Within an hour I was in the back of his car being driven to an estate I had never seen before with gates that locked from the outside and a wardrobe full of clothes in my exact size waiting like someone had known I was coming before I did. He told me I wasn't a prisoner but a guest. He said people who wanted to find me were considerably worse than him and that his walls were the only thing standing between me and a conversation I wouldn't survive.
Maybe he was right.
The problem is the longer I stayed the harder it became to remember which one was true. Because the man who caught me in that alley wasn't the only version of him. There was another one that nobody else seemed to get to see. The one who stood alone in his dead mother's library looking tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. The one who had my cat brought to the estate because he heard me crying through closed door and didn't know what else to do about it. The one who almost smiled when I threw a glass at his head.
That version of him was the one I couldn't stop thinking about.
I came here as a witness.
I stayed as something else entirely.
Somewhere between the locked doors, the candlelit dinners and the secrets we started sharing in the dark I stopped wanting to leave.
The question was whether a woman like me could survive loving a man like him.
I was about to find out.

Ten years ago, a shipwreck took everything from Nathaniel. His parents, his sister, hundreds of innocent lives—all lost in a mafia drug deal. He was the only survivor. From that day on, he lived for one thing alone: revenge.

Step by step, he laid his plans and pushed a woman onto the throne of Europe's Mafia Queen. Her name was Rosalia. From a nameless girl on the streets to a presence that made all of Europe's underworld tremble—every step she took, his shadow was there. She believed what he gave her was love.

On their wedding day, all of Europe's eyes were on her. She walked toward him in white, believing she was walking toward happiness. Then the trap closed. That wedding stunned all of Europe. The Myers family, every major underworld boss, every man he had to kill—all of them died inside his scheme.

The surviving forces began their counterattack. They threw everything into hunting Nathaniel down. At the same time, they turned their fury on her—the woman he had raised to the throne with his own hands, and shattered with those same hands. They wanted to topple her reign. They wanted her to pay for his sins.

Every night begins the same way.

Candlelight. Steam curling over marble baths. Her body trapped between silk sheets and a man who owns her life. Matteo Russo’s hands are ruthless, possessive—claiming, testing, reminding her who holds the power. Desire burns sharp and dangerous, turning hatred into something filthy and irresistible.

Lila Moreno was kidnapped to pay her father’s $3 million betrayal.
A Palermo nightclub dancer dragged into a forced marriage with Sicily’s most feared mafia don.

She swore she’d kill him.

By day, she plots. Steals secrets. Turns allies against each other. Seduces rivals just to watch them fall. By night, their war turns physical—control versus defiance, rage colliding with need. Every touch is a challenge. Every kiss tastes like violence and surrender all at once.

Then the explosions start.

Bombs ticking down. Enemies closing in. Bodies pressed together while death waits outside the door. Passion becomes reckless. Addictive. Impossible to stop.

The truth shatters everything—her father once saved Matteo’s life. A rival family plans his execution. And Lila is carrying his twins.

When Matteo falls into a coma, the captive takes the throne.

Lila orders bloodshed. Executes traitors. Rules the empire meant to destroy her.

She was taken as a debt.
She stayed for power.
And now, she owns both the man who broke her…
and the mafia that will burn for her.

I used to think love was supposed to hurt.

Sidney forgot me five times in one month, left me waiting in the dark, and always had a reason—Azalea needed help, his friends needed him, something else came first.

I told myself he loved me.

He just loved me lazily.

Then one night, after I missed the last bus from my competition, I called the Lawson house. Sidney wasn’t there. Elijah answered.

He was rude. Cold. Infuriating.

But he came.

When three men cornered me on an empty street, Elijah became a wall between me and danger. When I cried in my bathroom, he cleaned my bruises. When my calf cramped so badly I couldn’t stand, he knelt on the tile and fixed the pain with careful hands.

He never said sweet things.

He just showed up.

Again and again.

Soon, I started looking for him in every crowd, every rainstorm, every silent night. I told myself it was gratitude. Dependence. Anything but love.

Because falling for Elijah meant betraying Sidney.

But how long can a heart stay loyal to someone who never protects it?

Everyone said I was just a shadow of Ethan, that I was nothing without him.
So during the tryouts, to comfort his "scared" sweetheart, he let go mid-jump, almost costing me my life.
He was betting I couldn't leave him, that I'd forgive him like I did the last eighteen times.
But he lost.
This time, I didn't cry or throw a fit.
I simply tossed the apartment key that symbolized our seven years together into the trash, then turned and walked toward my own world championship.

I have been tormented by a strange illness for ten years, with blood draws and surgeries being commonplace.
My mother always encouraged me, saying, "Nian Nian, bear with it a little longer. The pain will be over soon. Mom and Dad are doing this to save your life."
Hoping to be cured as soon as possible, I gritted my teeth and endured ten years of painful treatments, even if it meant living like a lab subject.
That was until I accidentally overheard my parents’ cruel conversation:
“Increase the blood draw even more. It doesn’t matter if she dies—she was only picked up to save Ying Ying. As long as she has a breath left, she owes it to us.”
At that moment, I finally understood: I was never sick at all.
The decade of daily treatments were nothing but a way to use me to extend the life of their biological daughter.

My life had been a nightmare until one accident changed everything.
One moment, I was the girl Ethan Blake rejected without a second glance.
The next, I woke up inside his body.
Ethan Blake.
Captain of the hockey team. King of the campus. The same guy who told me to stop wasting everyone's time and just die.
Now I wore his face, carried his name, and lived his life.
And I remembered every cruel thing he had done to me.
So I started returning the favor.
I smiled in front of his friends while tearing apart his perfect reputation piece by piece. I turned his world upside down while everyone still believed I was him.
But Ethan wasn't gone.
And he wasn't willing to stay silent.
The more I took from him, the more desperate he became to reclaim his body.
Even if it meant coming back to me—
On his knees.
Begging.

Krystal Hunter died with a broken heart, a knife in her back, and one regret—she finally won the damn lottery right before she died. Ten million dollars, untouched, deposited in the bank… wasted.
Or so she thought.
Because when Krystal wakes up in a hospital bed—very much not dead—the world has gone to economic hell. The global economy has collapsed, the dollar has depreciated into dust... and her forgotten bank account?
Now worth one hundred billion.
With the world burning and billionaires falling like flies, Krystal is no longer the girl they betrayed. She’s richer than empires, hungrier than ever, and back to collect what she’s owed—with interest.
Ex-lovers, fake friends, and bloodthirsty siblings beware:
She died once. She’s not dying quietly again.

A deliciously savage romantic revenge comedy about wealth, power, payback, and kissing someone hot while the economy collapses.

I was frozen for 100 years due to illness.
One hundred years later, the whole world was ravaged by strange phenomena, and humanity was huddled together in a few small places to survive.
I was awakened from my slumber by the investigation team. I thought I would be killed by the monster as soon as I woke up, but I found that the monster here was my good brother from college.
Besides him, the eerie owner of the barbecue restaurant, the matchmaking ghost who likes to harm people through blind dates, the S-class monstrous ghost in the cemetery... they are all my old friends...
The world a hundred years from now feels strangely familiar...

Intro: I'm an S-Class superhuman, but I was locked in a basement for five full years, subjected to inhuman abuse and torment. All they wanted was to drain my blood and energy dry. I once believed that if I could just endure it all, I would see my family again. Until my wife Valen's voice came through the intercom and revealed that it was all a lie. I will turn my fury into strength and tear it all apart with my own hands.

Dorian, my boyfriend of three years, was a partner at a top-tier Boston law firm. He was gentle, refined, and absolutely flawless.
A week ago, he buried his face in my neck late at night, whispering that the city was suffocating him. He wanted to take me back to his hometown to meet Octavia, the grandmother who had single-handedly raised him.
I agreed without hesitation.
But on Crane Island, every night Dorian would slip out of our bed, using Octavia's gout as an excuse.
Until that night. I crept barefoot to Octavia’s door and pressed my ear against the wood.
What I heard wasn’t a sick old woman. It was Dorian’s heavy panting, mixed with the shameless, breathy moans of a young woman...

James Johnson bought me from the black market for five million.
I went from being a mercenary to his bodyguard, and also his plaything to satisfy his desires.
Countless intimate nights gradually changed the nature of our relationship.
Until he risked his life to save me during a gang shootout.
His restrained feelings finally broke free, and he proposed to me.
But today, five years later.
Right after James took control of the Johnson Family, he quickly got engaged to Julia, the daughter of the Smith Family, the biggest arms dealer.
I confronted him, only to overhear his conversation with a friend.
"I told Sophia I'd marry her just to make her give everything for me, even die for me. After all, those brothers fighting me for the inheritance are all crazy."
His friend laughed. "But she's risked her life for you for six years. That's pretty cold."
"Doesn't matter. With her background, she was never fit to be a mafia heir's wife anyway."
I stood outside the door and let out a bitter laugh.
Back in my room, I contacted Marshall Johnson.
"I promised to keep James safe until he became head of the Johnson Family. The mission's complete now. Please give me my freedom as agreed."

Thinking she had finally broken free from her family’s violence, Ariana had no choice but to attend the party her father would throw to celebrate the man she had always hated.
The ruthless mafia lord Matteo Donatelli, whom her family had taken under their wing when she was a teenager.

Drunk and clouded Don Matteo Donatelli unknowingly made love to his adopted sister, she couldn't resist him for much longer and succumbed to his devious touch.

Moments later Ariana is Trying to hold back all the anger, emotions and tears when she sees the man who just stole her virginity, recklessly propose in front of the entire family to his outsider American girlfriend Becky Saunders.

So what about her?

What happens when the man she’s suddenly engaged to find out she is pregnant with his enemy’s bastard child?

But things turn surprising when Becky Sunders suddenly slumps on her wedding day!
Read on to find out!

I have three rules.
See nothing. Say nothing. Stay invisible.
For three years, I’ve poured drinks at the Golden Chalice, hiding behind cheap makeup and a quiet smile. In the most dangerous bar in St. Jude, being forgettable is the only way a girl like me survives.
Then Vincenzo Corsetti walked in.
The feared Mafia Don and heir to the Corsetti empire, he put a bullet through a man’s skull—and caught me watching.
I expected him to kill me.
Instead, he stepped closer, looked straight through my disguise, and whispered,
“You smell like trouble, little Jinx.”
From that night on, the most powerful man in St. Jude became obsessed with me.
He sends black datura to my bar. Watches me from across crowded rooms. And when another man gets too close, Vincenzo makes one thing clear:
“She’s mine.”
But Vincenzo isn’t the only dangerous man who thinks he owns me.
Dante Moretti, my adoptive father and the Corsetti family’s ruthless Underboss, has controlled my life since he bought me out of a cage eleven years ago.
He gave me a home, a name, and everything money could buy.
He also made sure I could never leave.
Two Mafia men.
One built my cage.
The other wants to tear it apart—and claim me for himself.

THIS BOOK CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEX SCENES,POSSESSIVE ENERGY, AND INTENSE EMOTIONAL TENSION AND BETRAYAL, READER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
One night. One mistake. Seven years of Consequences. Sofia Romano married Marco Valentino to hide her shameful secret–she was pregnant with his cousin's child.
For seven years, she played the grateful wife while raising a daughter who belongs to the man who abandoned her. But now, he is back for what's his.
Dante Valentino returns from seven years in hell to find his beautiful butterfly caged—married to his cousin.
" Dante I'm married," Sofia whispers when he corners her, his hands possessive on her hips.
"That's a problem that can be solved with just one bullet, butterfly."
SPICY SCENES WOULD BE INDICATED WITH THIS SYMBOL (~) SO THEY WOULDN'T BE HARD TO FIND. IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN :)

"Your boss has asked me to take whatever I want to clear his debts. So I've chosen. And he was glad to give you to me, among other things."
"Get dressed," he ordered. Only then did I find the courage to speak.
"I have nothing to do with this. I can't be involved. I'm not the one owing you money. Ludovic..."
"Ludovic is dead."
"And you'll be careful not to end up the same way, doll. Get dressed, or I will make you."
Talia has spent her entire life as an escort to survive. But everything changes when she is kidnapped for reasons she doesn't understand and brought face to face with Lorenzo, the feared Mafia Don and King of the underworld. Intrigued by her, he claims her as his prized possession. She plays along, knowing it's the only way to stay alive. But resisting her dangerous attraction to him is becoming impossible.
An offer comes that she can't refuse—she's asked to spy on Lorenzo and end his reign. Talia yearns for freedom, but the more time she spends with him, the more her heart falters.
When the moment arrives, will she have the strength to betray him? Or will deeper feelings get in the way? Will she become his lover, or the reason for his destruction?

My husband is the most generous man in all of Pittsburgh.
He donates his entire paycheck to the community every month and says to the camera with tears in his eyes: "When your neighbors are freezing, you can't just worry about whether there's enough money in your own pocket. You have to show some heart."
But where the camera can't see —
A gas company shutoff notice sits on the kitchen table. His mother's insulin will run out in three days. Our six-year-old son is about to spend the night in a house that's fifteen below zero.
For eight years. Every time he opened his wallet for the world, I was the one crawling through ductwork at 2 a.m., quietly patching every hole with my overtime pay.
He bought his reputation with my sweat and blood. He decorated his image with his parents' illnesses. He crowdfunded forty-two thousand dollars using footage of our son shivering in the cold.
Tonight, he's going on the local evening news to brand me as "the cold-blooded woman who abandoned her family."
What he doesn't know is that I have far more evidence than he can imagine.
For instance — his own words: "Dad can skip a few weeks of rehab — it's not gonna kill him. But this weekend's event could get me on the news."
You want to be on the news, Caleb?
As you wish.

Preston Ashford and I made a promise to get into UCLA together.

I held onto that promise through all of senior year, surviving on four hours of sleep a night. Then results day came, and I found out someone had logged into my application and changed it.

I only ever gave Preston my password.

I storm over to confront him and catch Vanessa Ashby, the daughter of an old family friend, the one everyone tiptoed around because of her depression, laughing. "Preston, what do you think Elise looked like when she found out?"

Preston lets out a lazy laugh. "She'll freak out, obviously. Girl's wound so tight, might as well get some use out of her."

Vanessa has depression, and I'm the one who's supposed to make her laugh.

I'm the one who ate dirt at track meets. I'm the one who got laughed at for singing off-key. I'm the one everyone pointed and laughed at. And every time she doubled over laughing, Preston told me I was a good girl.

I turned myself into a joke, just to get a little scrap of kindness thrown my way.

But not this time. I'm done playing the clown.

The story is unique, interesting and have richly developed characters. It also has intricate plot twists and combined element of fantasy suspence and romance.

Seventeen-year-old Sable Thorne has spent her whole life running from a town she doesn't remember. When her mother, Morwen, drags her back to decaying Echo Ridge three days before her eighteenth birthday, Sable assumes it's just another one of her mother's inexplicable decisions.

Then she finds the diary.

Hidden beneath the floorboards of her childhood bedroom, a leather-bound journal belonging to Larkin Crowe — a girl who vanished thirteen years ago — contains a warning written directly to Sable: "Don't let her come back. Sable — run."

As Sable investigates, the town closes ranks. Her mother gaslights her. The sheriff dismisses her. A therapist diagnoses her with psychosis. Only two people believe her: Orion Kael, a cynical local whose brother vanished six years ago, and Corbin Ash, the reclusive groundskeeper who knows more about Larkin's fate than he admits — because Larkin was his daughter.

What Sable uncovers is a pact older than the town itself: every seventeen years, Echo Ridge offers a girl to something buried beneath the well — a root that feeds on blood and keeps the town alive. Morwen was meant to be the sacrifice thirteen years ago. She traded Larkin instead. And the debt was never cleared.
Now the root wants what it was originally promised: Sable Thorne.
With three days until her birthday — and the deadline — Sable must decide whether to run, surrender, or shatter the anchor that binds the town to its curse. But breaking the pact comes with a price. And some doors, once opened, can never be closed.

He loved to say one line: “You won’t walk away.”

He thought she would never bring herself to divorce him, never bring herself to watch him go bankrupt, never bring herself to see him fall.

So he dared to spoil her with one hand while getting his adopted sister pregnant with the other.

What he didn’t know was that she had already liquidated every asset he had given her and quietly set up her own trust company.

He set his password to her birthday.

She used it to pry apart the very foundation of his empire.

And when he finally dropped to his knees, begging her not to leave, she handed him a sheet of paper.

“Sign it, Mr. Xie. Let’s part ways.”

For years, my life belonged to Marcus. He has mafia ties, a violent temper, and a need to control every single breath I take. I thought he was the ultimate danger—until the anonymous messages started.

Someone is watching me. Someone knows what I’m wearing before I even put it on. Someone is entering my apartment, moving my things, and leaving cameras in the dark.

I was trapped between my boyfriend’s suffocating rage and a nameless stalker, so I ran. I hid in a luxury high-rise with biometric security, determined to reclaim my life.

That is where I met Caius.

My neighbor is everything Marcus isn't. He is gentle. Protective. Steady. When the stalker's messages miraculously follow me into my new sanctuary, Caius is the only one who stands by me. He holds me through my panic attacks and helps me sweep my home for hidden bugs. For the first time in my life, I feel safe.

But peace is a luxury I don't possess.

My ex is hunting me down. The messages are growing more twisted. And as I look closer at the perfect, protective man beside me, a chilling realization sets in.

The stalker didn’t follow me to this building.... He lured me here.

After a forbidden night, maid Elara conceives twins for ruthless mafia Don Asher. To shield her from deadly power struggles, he fakes cruelty and puts a bounty on her head. Trapped in the murderous manor, she hides her pregnancy to survive. Cornered and hunted, she leaps into the frozen river to save her babies. After narrowly surviving childbirth, she becomes Asher’s lifelong obsession. The cold-blooded king burns all enemies, drops every pride, and kneels to atone for his sins forever.

Caspian kept me locked in the basement as a living blood bank.
This mafia don was also my husband. Ever since he discovered I could heal instantly, I became nothing more than a consumable—kept alive to sustain another woman.
That woman in the hospital bed was his stepmother in name, his forbidden obsession in reality—the desire he could never speak aloud.
Unable to claim her, he went mad. He tried to fill her dying body with my life.
When she was poisoned, he forced toxins down my throat to test antidotes, watching coldly as I convulsed on the floor, vomiting black blood.
When assassins came for her, he yanked me in front as a human shield, letting bullets turn my body into a sieve.
Covered in blood, I clutched his pant leg, begging through tears for him to just kill me.
But to protect his precious stepmother, he kicked me away without hesitation, his voice utterly cold: "Stop playing dead, Aria. You're a monster. You can't die anyway."
What he didn't know was that every time a mermaid heals, she burns through her soul's essence.
Through each shattering and mending, he was draining my very source of life.
Today, he strapped me to the operating table again, ready to drain more blood for his forbidden love.
He had no idea this would be the last time.

“If anyone’s putting a baby in you, it’s gonna be me, Nolie… with your legs shaking, your lips moaning my name, and my cum dripping down your thighs.” Zorak snarled.
Twelve months ago, Nolie wrapped a cello string around a billionaire heir’s throat and killed him.
To keep it quiet, she was forced to marry the mad son of the Veltrona Syndicate.
Twelve months in hell.
Now her husband’s been killed, and his powerful, twisted family wants her pregnant by his obsessed little brother.
But the man who watched her kill?
The one with golden eyes and a hunger that never left?
He’s back.
Not to save her.
To ruin her.
He wants her mouth on his name.
Her thighs open for his revenge.
Her womb carrying his claim.
Because to him, Nolie isn’t a widow.
She’s his favorite obsession.
And tonight, he’s coming to collect.

My husband, the terrifying Mafia Don, dropped fifteen million dollars on a luxury yacht just to throw a lavish, high-profile birthday celebration for his precious first love.

And today marks exactly seven days since I died of an infection in a Detroit slum, simply because I couldn't scrape together a few cents for antibiotics.

At the banquet, an oblivious guest tactlessly brought up my name.

Alessandro dialed my number for the first time in five years.

"Genevieve, if you've suffered enough, crawl back here and beg Elena for forgiveness."

That is, until the estate doors were violently shoved open.

A scavenger walked in, leading a little boy whose face was an eighty-percent match to Alessandro's.