392 Book(s) Related to star wars prequel trilogy graphic novel

Ten years ago, my parents worked for the Bellamys. He was their driver. She ran the house.

Then came the crash. I watched them shove Nash Bellamy out of the wreck, and it killed them both.

That's where the claustrophobia came from.

He knew. He knew all of it.

Then at homecoming, I showed up in a dress that matched Camilla's. She was the girl he'd always wanted. So he shoved me into the abandoned supply closet backstage.

The lock turned. On the other side of the door, he and Camilla were laughing like it was nothing.

"I'm pretty sure she's claustrophobic."

"Two hours in there. She'll learn."

I clawed at my own hands until they bled, couldn't get any air, and ended up wetting myself in a closet a dog wouldn't sleep in.

When the door finally opened, he pinched his nose and laughed and said I was disgusting.

I pushed myself up the wall, inch by inch, and looked at the face I'd been looking at for ten years. And I didn't want to cry anymore. Not even a little.

"Nash. I'm done chasing you."

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.

After Three Thousand Years in Seclusion, My Sect Was Broke

I came out of seclusion expecting incense, bells, and a courtyard full of kneeling disciples.

Instead, dust fell into my hair, weeds covered the mountain road, and the great hall of the Azure Cloud Sect had collapsed so badly that a crooked tree had taken root on its roof.

Then a young woman in a patched blue robe pointed a sword at me and shouted, "Who are you? This is Azure Cloud territory. Are you here to steal herbs?"

I looked at the broken gate behind her.

Then I looked at the blade trembling in her hand.

After three thousand years, my sect had one disciple left.

And somehow, she was the sect master.

My marriage to Lucas was nothing but a cold-blooded mafia alliance. There was never any love between us.
His heart had always belonged to my best friend, Chloe. From the beginning to the end, I was never in his eyes.
And me? All I ever wanted was a sweet, honest love story of my own.
With his silent permission, I went looking for love online. But on the day I met my so-called online boyfriend for the first time, I was shoved into a lake and rescued by Chloe’s fiancé, Damon.
No one could have predicted that a man rumored to have no interest in women at all would react to me and me alone.
From that moment on, he caged me at his side and forced me to become his secret lover.
But this was never the kind of love I wanted. I still kept searching for something sweet, real, and truly mine.

Sophie Bennett is a ghost. A scholarship student at Crestview Academy, her only goal is to stay invisible and get close to Daniel Vale, the golden heir her family desperately needs her to befriend. Daniel is perfect, kind, and safe. But on her first day, a wrong turn puts her in the path of the "Wrong Brother."

Harrison Vale is the school’s shadow. He’s dangerous, silent, and feared. While the world sees Daniel’s light, Sophie is inexplicably drawn to Harrison’s darkness. As Serena Cole and the elite "Royals" of the school target Sophie for her low-income roots, Sophie finds herself caught between two brothers: the one who can save her future, and the one who might destroy her heart.

My husband Eric couldn't speak after a car accident three years ago. Three years of silence. Not one word.

To pay for his rehab, I worked four jobs at once—worked until I was coughing up blood, until I collapsed. Winter nights, Leo and I huddled under one threadbare blanket. When my son spiked a fever and I had no money for medicine, I stayed up all night pressing wet rags to his burning forehead.

Eric? His only communication was cold texts, ordering me around. When Leo reached for a hug, he'd push him away like our son didn't exist.

I endured it all. Because deep down, I believed the accident was my fault.

Until that night.

I was hauling equipment at Selena's concert—Selena, the pop star everyone knew—when a mystery guest in a mask stepped on stage. They sang together, voices blending like they'd done this a thousand times.

That voice. That lightning-shaped scar on his elbow.

My "mute" husband of three years.

I followed him backstage. Through the door, I heard Selena's laugh: "Congrats, Eric. Your mute act is almost over—you won the bet."

Three years of sacrifice.

All of it just a game. A bet with his first love.

When they shoved me into the flames, I fought through the blinding pain to call my brother, Ethan Bennett. Fire licked at my skin, twisting my vision, but the call finally went through.

"What is it now?" He sounded distracted, like he was checking off a guest list.

"Ethan, please, help—" My voice was shattered, choked by the searing heat.

"Can't you just give it a rest for one single day?" he snapped, cutting me off. "Selina and I are getting married this weekend. If you pull another stunt, I swear I'll—"

The call died right as the flames swallowed me whole.

Agony consumed every nerve before my eyes closed for good, his unfinished threat still echoing in my ears.

But the good news is, Ethan... you don't have to swear anymore. Because I was dead.

Eight years ago I shoved Chase Whitaker away from a firework he lit on the beach, and it took my eyes.
Everybody in Harbor Point calls him a saint for staying with me. Our families put a ring on my finger when I was seventeen. He's been my eyes since we were ten. He tells me who just walked in and what's in every photo. He promised me in a hospital room that he would never lie to me.
Three weeks ago a surgeon in Boston gave my sight back. Nobody knows except my parents. I was saving it for my eighteenth birthday. Take the dark glasses off, look right at him.
I didn't get that far. At the table I read the message on his phone.
Honestly? Sometimes I wish that firework had just finished the job.
Then my friend since sixth grade leaned over to tell me he'd been staring at me all night, and he kissed another girl over my shoulder while he held my hand.
They think I still can't see. I'm going to let them.

For fifty years, I bathed in blood for my world, only to return home to find my wife dead and my daughter about to be sacrificed.
The High Priest stepped on my daughter’s head, branding me a traitor, and declared he would burn her to ashes. Scarred, broken, and with my magic depleted, I was bound to the pyre alongside her. Tens of thousands cursed us from below as the flames engulfed the stage.
Weeping, my daughter asked me, "Daddy, are you really a hero?"
I crushed the pendant on my chest.
Dragons, Dwarves, Berserkers—the million-strong allied army I had united over those fifty years descended across dimensions.
The High Priest slumped to the ground, trembling uncontrollably. "Who... who exactly are you?"
Staring into his eyes, I said only one thing:
"Dragons have reverse scales; touch them, and you die. You crossed the line!"

"You have two months to live." The doctor's death sentence was still ringing in my ears when I found the receipt in his pocket.

[Four Seasons Hotel. Romance Suite. Check-in: 3:00 PM.]

3:00 PM. The exact moment I was begging the doctor for painkillers, Alexander was in a hotel bed with another woman.

I looked at him, sleeping soundly beside me. I had loved this man for five years, sold everything to help him succeed. Now, in the final countdown of my life, he gave me the most fatal blow.

"I'm exhausted from meetings," he had lied, smelling of Santal 33 and another woman's sex.

I clenched the receipt until my nails dug into my flesh. I wouldn't tell him about the cancer.

I would use whatever time I had left to make him regret ever being born.

I've run a pet rescue shop for five years. I've lost count of the animals I've saved. Around the neighborhood, people call me the good Samaritan of Main Street. My husband, Adam Carter, and I have been married five years, and he's always been gentle and attentive.

It's a rainy night in late fall, and I come across an injured starling in the alley on my way home, its wing broken.

The second I scoop it into my arms, a man's voice cuts through the dark.

"Tomorrow night, eight o'clock. Whatever you do, don't go home. Your husband's going to sneak out with your best friend, and on the road, they're going to hit someone and kill them. Then they're going to run, and they're going to pin it on you."

I look down into the starling's eyes, and the color drains out of my face.

Five years of what I thought was love, and it was just a trap waiting to close in.

A talking bird. Nobody's going to believe that if I go to the cops.

I don't even think twice. I just take the bird and head downtown.

I had just arrived abroad for a legal conference when my best friend sent me a video.
An unfamiliar woman was chatting while pushing Dexter’s mother, Jenny, around the neighborhood, claiming to be Dexter’s wife.
My hand, holding the phone, froze.
If she’s Dexter’s wife… then who am I?
I immediately called my husband and asked,
“Did you change family doctors?”
He paused for a second, then replied with a laugh, “Yes. Mom didn’t like the old one, so we switched. I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet. Why do you ask?”
I forced a casual chuckle. “No reason. I just missed you.”
After hanging up, I rushed home overnight.

I am Natalie, the trueborn daughter of an ancient werewolf bloodline.
But overnight, I lost everything—because of my foster sister Sherry’s carefully crafted lies and vicious schemes.
My parents turned against me.
Even Antony, the mate fated to walk beside me for life, shattered our bond with his own hands and cast me out into the frozen wastelands.
Banished, stripped of home and honor, I wandered to the edge of the world.
Until that day—
When I threw myself into the ice fields to save a child who had strayed too far, and the avalanche swallowed me whole.
The cold piercing my bones, my vision fading, as I screamed Antony’s name… praying he would hear me.
But Sherry’s false avalanche lured him away.
I watched him—so close, yet so far—missed my final cry.
Death freed me from flesh, yet my soul hovered above the glacier.
I saw Antony clawing at the snow with his bare hands, despair tearing him apart—too late.
I saw Sherry’s mask ripped away, her treachery exposed.

For a whole year, Aurora waited for a cornea transplant. Her husband, Oliver, stole it at the last second for his mistress, Claire. Twelve unanswered calls later, Aurora caught him at the hospital, tenderly accompanying Claire to her prenatal checkup.

Aurora begged him to stay, however, Oliver merely threw the divorce papers right into her face. She signed in ten seconds flat and walked away. When her toxic sister-in-law came to mock her, Aurora ripped her to shreds.

Everyone expected Aurora to crawl back crying. Instead, she listed her wedding ring on a pawn site, packed her bags, and vanished.

She left without a backward glance. So why is the man who signed those papers in a furious rage suddenly turning back?

"Everyone in Cedar Hollow can tell you exactly what I did. I just can't."

Twelve years ago, Vanessa Dalton walked out of Larkspur Quarry alone, covered in her best friend Jo Calloway's blood. Jo's body was never found. Vanessa never remembered what happened. The evidence disappeared with the storm, but the town reached its own verdict long ago: she was guilty.

Now a renowned forensic genealogist who solves decades-old cold cases using DNA, Vanessa is forced to return home when her dying mother leaves her no choice. She's spent years helping strangers uncover the truth, while refusing to investigate the one mystery that destroyed her own life.

Sheriff Scott Bradley wants her gone. His father ruined his career trying to prove Vanessa murdered Jo, and Scott inherited both the badge and the hatred. But when someone steals a hidden box of evidence from the Calloway case, and Vanessa begins remembering fragments that contradict everything Cedar Hollow believes, a second car at the quarry, another voice calling her name, and Jo alive long after the moment she was supposed to have died, they're forced into an uneasy alliance.

As Vanessa and Scott reopen the town's darkest secret, every new clue exposes another lie. Someone has spent twelve years protecting the truth, and they'll kill to keep it buried.

Because Jo Calloway wasn't the only person who disappeared that night.

Ancient stories surrounding the town of Lovecraft County resurface as mysteries rage around the world and murder cases and investigations involve all the clans and monsters, mystical creatures that live and exist in the town.
Amidst the many secrets involving the city all this to solve or help in his case when trying to solve his own feelings, he has two soulmates, a vampire and a werewolf.
Amidst the events of past lives, when a businessman, the great hero and detective, as well as the avatar of an interdimensional creature, being the smartest man and the greatest hero in the world who is not so much brave, when it comes to his own personal problems, in which Tsuki is there to face villains and fights a battle with his feelings that leads him to desire and run away from his destined loves.
Both were born destined to rule and command.
The ancient gods are in truce, now to unite in a common goal, which is in addition to being what they are the result of an alliance between men, demons and humans in a peace agreement, they are children of an ancient being, in that they show that they are there to command and be the mediators and lords of their races, in the midst of a life of their own, their destinies, the rains in the midst of the events of the past, coming to see the future.
For Tsuki who is a creature that can change sex, even if he goes from world to world, even from the bottom of his being, he still can't deal with some things, like his wills, being the masters of his body and life. your soul.

The day I found out Quinn Prescott had pulled strings to give away my Ivy League recommendation to some transfer student, I packed up everything he'd ever given me and dumped it on his doorstep.
The next day, I found that same box in the dumpster outside my building.
Quinn's face was twisted with irritation.
"Drop it. So what if we don't go to the same college? You can get a full ride anywhere on your own, but Paula can't even afford tuition without that recommendation letter."
He let out a cold laugh. "And if this actually blows up, I promise you—it won't be me walking away with regrets."
I pressed the UCL acceptance letter tighter against my back, looking at him one last time with perfect calm.
He looked exactly like he always did when he knew he'd already won—like the outcome wasn't even a question.
But Quinn, I don't need you either.
My one-way ticket to London was already booked. We never had to see each other again.

A past generations’ wrongful case makes Julian mistake innocent Sienna for his foe’s daughter. Exploiting her crush, he ruins her Cambridge dream on graduation night, destroying her family. For five years, Sienna works in a sleazy club to fund her sick mother’s care.
Their unexpected reunion leaves Julian torn between disgust and secret affection. When the truth surfaces, consumed by regret, he cancels his wedding and spends all his wealth to atone. Yet Sienna’s love is long gone. After settling her family with his money, she leaves forever.

At my ex-wife's century wedding engagement banquet, she pointed at my nose and humiliated me publicly: "A waste of space who lays bricks, get out!"
Her wealthy new lover pressed my face hard into broken glass and forcibly dragged away my desperately crying five-year-old daughter.
I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, drew the "Ghost Mark," and dialed the Pentagon hotline that had been dormant for five years.
Three seconds later, twelve Black Hawk helicopters shattered the dome, and a special task force descended from the sky. A two-star general, amid the terrified gazes of the assembled elite, saluted me with a thunderous: "Ghost Commander, troops have arrived as ordered!"
My ex-wife, who had been so arrogant just moments ago, instantly collapsed to the ground.

While I bled to death locked in a storage room, my fiancé Adrian was holding my sister's hand, comforting her.

He hung up on my final call for help, leaving only a voicemail: "If anything happens to Lena, the engagement is off."

My sister once said her birthday wish had always been for me to disappear.

That night, her wish came true early.

But my soul never left.

I watched everyone gather around her, singing happy birthday.

As she blew out the candles, I whispered in her ear:

"Enjoy it while it lasts. This will be your last birthday."

That wedding in Rome was the last time I ever saw him as his “stepsister.”
I was the Roxie family’s only daughter. After my father remarried, my mother and I moved into the Corleone estate, and from that day on, Elias became my stepbrother—also the one obsession I should never have touched.
Out in public, he was always calm and controlled. At home, though, one line from him “Don’t call me brother” made my heart race.
Until the day he held Sophia’s hand in front of a priest and announced he was going to marry her.
I was outside the venue, bending down to pick up empty bottles because I needed dialysis money. He crushed them under his shoe in front of everyone, humiliated me, and forced me to trade my dignity for cash, like he was nailing the word “step-siblings” onto a pillar of shame.
He hated me. He said I’d “gotten back at him” in the filthiest way. I just smiled and never explained.
Because he would never know the truth: back then, the reason I shoved him away with everything I had was only because I wanted him to live a little cleaner.
That night, he locked me in a pitch-dark storage room. Outside the door was wedding music. Inside was my blood and the suffocating despair.
When he finally opened the door… I was already dead.

Spring is the season I dread the most.

Because every spring, my mere existence becomes a lethal weapon against my own son.

Theron told me he suffers from a highly rare condition: Maternal Stress Rejection Syndrome.

If I so much as get near Flynn during the spring months, it triggers severe asthma attacks and terrifying asphyxiation.

To keep our boy alive, Theron takes him away to an isolated treatment center for three months, every single year.

And I stay behind, swallowing antidepressants by the handful just to survive the crushing guilt.

That is, until I found a photo hidden in Theron's burner phone.

In the picture, my husband and my son are tightly embracing another woman.

The so-called Maternal Stress Rejection Syndrome was nothing but a sick lie—a meticulously crafted excuse so my husband could spend the season playing "happy family" with his first love.

......

"Happy anniversary, darling. Look what I brought you." My husband's snow-white python once felt like proof of his love—until I remembered dying with it wrapped around my throat. In my past life, I doted on that "gift" for an entire year, never once suspecting its true nature, while my husband and daughter quietly counted down the days until I stopped breathing. Reborn on the very night he presents that same box again, I swear this time will be different.

Five years in captivity. They said Nora would be free after five years of working for the mafia king but they lied. Now Nora is forced to work permanently for the dangerous mafia king, executing dangerous cons with Noah, her only ally and her most dangerous temptation. The one man who makes her feel human again. But in a world built on lies, trust can be deadlier than betrayal.

What do you do when your husband swears he hasn't betrayed you — because he does it blindfolded, calling it medicine?

Three years ago, Selene bonded to the Alpha of Ironwood. He came home poisoned by shadow. Her soul, too pure, burns it out of him — so he cannot touch her without agony. That is the tragedy the pack whispers about.

They don't whisper about the shrine room. About the chief healer who brews a draught from Selene's own blood so she'll smell like the wife he can't hold. About the child learning to call him Papa.

Selene doesn't weep when she finds the memory crystal. She owns the mines her husband borrows against. She is the Shadow Lord — the lender he kneels to, the mercenaries at his borders, the hand that can strangle a pack's entire winter.

So: a severance signed in a drugged haze. A healer humiliated at the Great Rite by her own stolen formulas. A trade road going dark.

And then a glass of wine, a locked inn door, and a blade in Selene's own wrist to mask her scent before she runs.

She runs straight into Kael. Enemy of her bloodline. Man she should never touch.

And a father-in-law who is about to break her heart worse than any lover.

How much does a Luna owe a pack that never loved her?

Chloe Hudson gave up everything—including her health—for a man who never loved her. Married to Hank Collins only in name, she's endured a year of cold rejection while he lavished his love on another: her own half-sister, Irene. Just when Chloe decides to walk away, a twist of fate changes everything—she's pregnant. But instead of joy, her news is met with cruelty. Hank demands she abort the child, claiming only the woman he loves deserves his baby.
Heartbroken but not broken, Chloe chooses to fight—for her child, her dignity, and a future beyond betrayal. As secrets unravel and loyalties are tested, a familiar figure from her past steps in: Ryan Cooper, a man who once loved her and never stopped.
Will Chloe finally find the love she deserves? Or will her past drag her down before she can rise?

I’m the only person on Earth with a clinically proven antibody capable of neutralizing this rare deadly virus.
I caught the virus when I was six. Its mortality rate was staggeringly high, and everyone thought I’d never pull through. Against all odds, I recovered entirely on my own. By some strange twist of biology, my body made the world’s sole antibody that could fight this virus off.
Once I turned eighteen, I signed up to donate my serum as a volunteer.
For twenty years straight, rain or shine, I showed up to donate free of charge—107 separate donations in total. Each time, I pulled a gravely ill patient back from death’s brink.
I’m no saint living to save the whole world. Every last donation was done for my mother.
Back when I was six, my father’s infidelity drove my mother to take her own life. What happened was cruel beyond measure, completely unforgivable.
A fortune-teller once told me my mom’s lingering resentment ran far too deep. To free her trapped, wandering soul for good, a blood relative of hers had to finish exactly 108 acts of good deeds.
Twenty years in, only one deed remained. Just one more, and my mother’s spirit could finally rest in peace.
But when the hospital sent out an urgent emergency SOS this time around, I did something I’d never done in two decades.
I turned their request down flat.

My husband hasn't touched me in five years. He claims he has a rare, violent allergy to women.
So when I was slipping off a cliff, he let me fall into a freezing river rather than grab my bare hand.
I lost our baby.
Three days later, I caught him rubbing another woman's ankle with his bare hands. His eyes were full of love.
So much for the rare allergy. It only applies to the woman you don’t love.
I dropped the divorce papers on his desk. "I want out."
He thought I was bluffing. But what happens when the "chaste" billionaire realizes the wife he threw away is the one who found for many years?

To honor a vow to "protect her for a lifetime," I used my flesh and blood to shield her from a fatal impact in a deadly car crash. My heart was severely shattered, leaving me barely clinging to life with a pacemaker.

Concealing my identity for five years, I single-handedly dragged her from bankruptcy and crowned her the new royalty of Wall Street.

Yet, on the eve of her IPO, just to curry favor with a powerful tycoon, she knocked away my life-saving medicine, forced me to kneel and shine shoes in public, and finally kicked my gravely ill body out into a sub-zero Brooklyn blizzard.

My dying pleas for help only earned her impatient mockery: "Save your playing dead tricks for the ghosts."

When my pacemaker completely shattered in the howling snow, that submissive Arthur died.

Armed gunships descended, and a military-grade tactical heart violently rebooted my pulse! When I opened my eyes again, I was the Supreme Commander who cast terror over the global underground.

When I crushed her capital empire with a single hand and the truth was finally revealed, she knelt in the muddy rain, frantically slapping her own face, sobbing and screaming to give her life back to me.

I flicked the ash from my cigar, my gaze as cold as looking at trash: "My wife died in the blizzard. You are just a stranger who crawled up by stepping on half my life."

Four years ago, I left my boyfriend when he had nothing.

Now, he's a billionaire. And he's forcing me to marry him—just for revenge.

Every day it's a different girl. Now there's a pregnant influencer he flaunts in my face, destroying what's left of my dignity.

"Kneel and beg her, and I'll give you money." He holds another woman and smirks at me.

I don't cry. I don't scream. I just swallow the blood rising in my throat.

He doesn't know my brain tumor is terminal. I have thirty days left.

I've already signed the organ donation papers. I just want to die in peace.

I stopped loving him a long time ago.

Four years ago, I got mauled by a rogue wolf saving my Beta husband Derek. The attack left me unable to carry pups.

He held me that night, covered in my blood, and swore through tears that kids never mattered to him anyway.

Four years later, he's sleeping with Paige, a she-wolf I took in out of kindness six months back.

"Every family needs an heir. You can't give me one, so Paige offered. Just accept it and keep being my mate."

Paige, eyes brimming with tears, insisted she only wanted to repay my kindness. The baby would call me mother. She'd never try to take my place.

I almost laughed. Since when does anyone repay a favor by climbing into bed with the man who took her in?

I refused. He brought my parents and my brother into it to force my hand.

I didn't waste another word on him. I severed the bond and moved my whole family out to Moonhaven Pack on the coast.

Turns out nobody leaves a single she-wolf alone, no matter where she goes. Thugs kept showing up outside my door, stirring up trouble.

Right when things get unbearable, a big guy shows up out of nowhere and beats the group of them into running for their lives.

He's tall, scars all over his arms. He looks me over for a long moment, then says, "I need a wife to look after my two kids. Marry me. I'll protect your whole family."

The day the IVF succeeded was when I realized Michael had deceived me all along.
He had only used me as a surrogate for my sister.
When I confronted him, he tested me, forcing me to kill someone. "Afraid to pull the trigger? Doesn't seem like my kind of woman," he sneered.
I tried to run, but he caught me.
He kept me locked away, forced me to eat foods I was allergic to until I needed my stomach pumped, and chained me to the bed while he went off with her.
I cried until I had no tears left—and finally learned how to hold a gun.

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

I was supposed to hate him. Instead, he stole everything: my freedom, my breath, my heart.

When Yara’s life collides with Rafael’s, it’s not by chance... it’s by force. Powerful, dangerously handsome, and untouchable in his tailored black suit, Rafael is the kind of man whispered about in fear. He’s ruthless. Cold. A man built on secrets and sins. The last person Yara should ever want.

But hatred is fragile when desire cuts deeper. Rafael grips more than just her wrist.. he grips her every thought, every heartbeat, pulling her into a storm she cannot escape. The closer she gets, the more his darkness feels like home… and the more dangerous it becomes to stay.

Every touch is a risk. Every look, a temptation. And when the lies between them shatter, Yara must decide if surrendering to the man she was supposed to hate will destroy her or set her free.

Stolen By the Man I Was Supposed to Hate is a dark romance thriller full of obsession, secrets, and a forbidden love that burns hotter than revenge.

What if waking up as a Greek princess meant becoming a sacrifice to the most brutal god?

Jill Adelaide, an Oscar-nominated actress, never believed in fate—until she woke up in the body of Portia, the most beautiful princess of Sparta.

Her new life comes with a death sentence: she is betrothed to Ares, the God of War. To the world, he is a bloodthirsty monster. To her, he is infuriatingly handsome, possessive, and impossibly tempting.

But Ares is hiding secrets behind his piercing gaze. A mysterious prophecy binds them, and a hidden rebellion threatens to tear Olympus apart. As Jill navigates a world of demigods, monsters, and divine treachery, she must decide if she's merely a pawn in the gods' games—or the one woman who can tame the heart of the God of War.

He craves her soul. She needs his trust. But in a world where gods never fall in love, falling for Ares might be the deadliest risk of all...

Three years ago, my twelve brothers died in the desert at night. A traitor stepped over my death notice and took the place that should have been mine. Three years later, I hide in a run-down convenience store, wiping shelves. I endure being spat on, having my beer stolen, and being called trash—I endured it all. Because I'm waiting. Waiting for someone to return, waiting for an answer. Some ask me: Is it worth it, for a bunch of dead men? I don't know if it's worth it. I only know that when they were alive, they called me Captain. Three years in seclusion, all for the day the God of War returns!

In high school, my ex only dated me because she needed a dependable errand boy.

I believed it. I tutored her, fixed her grades, rewrote her papers, and cleaned up every mess she made.

Then I overheard her telling her friend, “He’s good at studying. That’s it. Dating him is already me being generous.”

At graduation, she dumped me without hesitation.

Years later, I became the CEO of a public company.

Her company was collapsing—cooked numbers, broken cash flow, investors pulling out—and she needed one deal to survive.

She didn’t know who I was.

She scraped my car in the garage, then warned me not to cling to her, saying the CEO she came to meet was way out of my league.

Then the boardroom door opened. She looked up and saw me in the seat at the head of the table.

She thought I’d use this to get revenge.

I didn’t. I just opened her file and said, “You may begin.”

After 3 years of bloody battles, the War King returns, only to hear his fiancée Elena “fell to her death”. But he finds she’s alive, pregnant, and imprisoned. He swears to slaughter all enemies and protect his woman and unborn child.

I’m a billionaire heir, and I used to say yes to my girlfriend no matter what.

She swiped my card like it was hers, partied until sunrise, and while I lay in a hospital bed, I was still cleaning up her messes.

She never visited me once—yet I couldn’t let her go. I would have given her everything.

Until an accident made me realize the truth: my love wasn’t real. It was hypnosis.

Her father wanted control. He bribed my psychiatrist and rigged my treatment—so the moment I saw her face, I’d lose control, give in, and hand over whatever they wanted.

All that devotion was manufactured.

Now the hypnosis is gone. She thinks I’ll keep being her ATM.

She has no idea that the first thing I did after waking up was make her—and her father—pay.

In my final moments in the ICU, the cruel truth crashed over me. My husband had colluded with a hypocritical single mother to steal everything meant for my daughter. For years, they manipulated and gaslit the girl, and even plotted to bar us from seeing each other one last time. Reborn right before the tragedy unfolded, the very first thing I set out to do is safeguard everything that belongs to my daughter and mend our broken bond. Faced with my husband’s fake display of devotion, all I have for him is…

Aston Whitmore thought I loved him. Truth is, his mother bought a year of my life for a million dollars.
He thought those 3 AM study sessions were about redemption and romance across class lines. He didn't know I was never watching his pretty face—I was watching the countdown to my mother's kidney transplant payment.
I froze this trust fund prince's credit cards, cut his internet, and nailed him to that desk until his eyes went bloodshot cramming calculus.
When he turned into a guard dog in front of the whole cafeteria, publicly staking his claim on me, all I was calculating was the date that final payment would clear.
Today, he burst through the mansion door clutching his Yale acceptance letter, ready to give me some grand confession.
I was already thirty thousand feet up on a flight to Zurich, staring at that million-dollar deposit notification, face blank as I pulled out the SIM card, snapped it in half, and tossed it in the trash.
No note. No goodbye.
Just one notarized Service Completion Certificate sitting on that empty desk. Terms fulfilled. Transaction closed.

Turns out, for five years, all Callum ever saw when he looked at me — the wolfless one — was a stain on his Alpha reputation.
Everyone knew he was about to marry Elvira, the pureblooded heiress of the Silverfang pack. The entire Blood Moon pack was already gearing up for their bonding ceremony.
My best friend Tessa, a Beta, fed them updates on my every move in their group chat, laughing along as I made healing broths for Callum like I was a joke to them.
They figured as long as they dangled my brother's medical care over my head, I'd swallow my pride and stay their dirty little secret forever.
Until the day Elvira decided to prove who was in charge, and threw my brother into a pit lined with silver spikes.
Watching Callum shield blood-soaked Elvira behind him, I didn't cry. I didn't scream.
I just pulled a knife and drove it into the bond mark on my neck.

When Trevor Sullivan had nothing, I gave up billions to follow him to Silicon Valley. Everyone said I was crazy in love with him, until his first love came back to the States right after he made it big.

Seven years of playing the perfect wife and mother, and then I hear him coaching our five-year-old daughter: "Ruby, you can't tell Mommy about my fake wedding with Amber. Not a word, okay?"

"But Daddy, Mommy's gonna be sad..."

"If you tell Mommy, Daddy won't love you anymore. Got it?"

My daughter trembles, nodding frantically.

I stand outside the door, my heart turning to ash.

For the woman he never got over, he doesn't just betray our marriage. He makes our five-year-old lie for him.

Everyone expects me to cry, to beg, to fall apart.

Instead, I dial the number I blocked seven years ago: "Dad, can the family jet still come get me?"

Trevor Sullivan has no idea. I was never some gold digger who needed him to survive. I was the one with everything who made myself small for his sake.

Eilidh MacLeod thought she had escaped. Seven years after walking away from a cold marriage and a ruthless man, she has built a life of quiet stability with her son, Finlay.
But ghosts don’t stay buried forever. When Ruaridh MacKinnon—her powerful ex-husband—suddenly steps back into her world, her worst nightmare comes true. As the new owner of her company, he is now in control of her professional fate. And if he looks too closely, he may uncover the one secret she swore to protect.

"I married you only to destroy you."

That was the only reason FBI agent Sophia Carter accepted a new identity as Evelyn Russo and married Lorenzo Moretti, the most dangerous mafia boss in Italy.

Her mission was to infiltrate, gather evidence, drag Lorenzo to prison, and save the children and women that Lorenzo Moretti had kidnapped for trafficking.

But life as a Don's wife was never as simple as she had imagined. Behind the luxurious mansion, the armed men, and the secrets of the Moretti family, Sophia found herself trapped in a game she did not understand.
The closer she got to Lorenzo, the harder it became to distinguish lies from reality.
But one thing never changed. If her identity as an FBI agent was exposed, then at that very moment, she would die at her own husband's hands.

Aella Moore
- A 27 years old American woman, with gray eyes. A woman who is very jolly and always smiling amidst of everything that happened in her life. A daughter who cares for her parents more than her own life. An Aunt who protects with all of her might and a lover who loves more than she can thought she can.

Vincent Nicholas Johnsons
- A 29 years old Australian cold hearted busi-nessman, with blue eyes. The Australia’s most eligible bachelor and the man who would have everything in a silver platter.

Aella and Vincent who were just acquaintances in the beginning but little did they know they both have the same stories. They were not looking for love at that time because they both just got their heart broken, both came from a long term relationship but when that time when they two met through a relative, tell their stories and got to know each other. They both want to make sure that they will not be hurt again this is why they were hesitant and pretending that they are not falling with each other at first. Will they overcome every obstacle that life will throw them?Will their get the approval of their families? Will they face the tragedy of their past together, all the pain and sacrifices they’ve been through? Will it all be worth it?

She baked his pack to perfection for five years, only to overhear she was just the “cheaper version” of his fated mate.

When Alpha Brian slaps her, abandons her in flames, and chooses the villainess who faked everything… Angela walks away, rejects him forever, returns home as the hidden heiress of a powerhouse pack, marries the Lycan King who worships her and watches her ex spiral into madness.

My name is Nora Monroe. Thirty-two weeks pregnant, ready to pop anytime.
This morning, my husband Everett left town, leaving me and my cat, Piper, alone at home.
Deep into the night, a strange woman called. Her voice was gentle, apologetic—she said my cat Piper had somehow wandered downstairs. She was severely allergic to cat dander and couldn't bring her up to me. I grabbed my coat, ready to head down, when the baby suddenly gave me a vicious kick. The pain sent me collapsing back onto the sofa, unable to move.
The woman on the phone urged me over and over. I looked up, my eyes falling on the corner of the living room.
Piper was sitting right there, staring unblinkingly at me...

To fulfill a dying comrade's final request, I spent twelve years living in the shadows to protect his daughter. I took bullets for her, laundered her black-market assets, and eventually handed over my entire stake in the security empire. In her eyes, I am her father’s murderer; in mine, she is a mission—the only flicker of light left in my life. Until that fateful banquet, when she personally shoved me into the sights of mercenaries. Watching my blood bloom across her dress, she hooked her arm around my nemesis and ordered coldly, "Clean it up." In that moment, twelve years of devotion collapsed, and a heart that beat only for her finally learned to freeze. This time, I’ve decided to personally destroy the monster I raised.

To save enough for a summer trip with my boyfriend, Tripp, and his friends, I worked late every night after school as a food runner at the upscale French restaurant in town.

Tripp told me his family didn't have much money. He wore old thrift-store T-shirts and always ordered the cheapest lunch in the cafeteria.

I felt bad for him. During the year we were together, I quietly paid for most of our dates.

Until one night, when I carried a bottle of wine to a private dining room and heard voices coming from inside.

"Tripp, how long are you going to keep pretending you're broke?" It was Chase, Tripp's best friend.

Then I heard Bitsy's sugary-sweet voice. She and Tripp had grown up together. "Thanks for the limited-edition bag, Tripp. Eighty grand, and it's absolutely gorgeous. I love it!"

I froze. An eighty-thousand-dollar bag? He wouldn't even spend twelve dollars on a burger.

Then Tripp spoke in a lazy drawl. "Girls like Nora are low-maintenance. She's easy to fool. Buy her an iced latte, and she'll act like it means the world to her. She barely costs me anything."

He had never really cared about me.