457 Book(s) Related to stealing mommy after divorce

In my last life, when the apocalypse hit, I forced more than fifty young tenants in the Silver Bay Apartments into a single fighting unit: sealed doors, rationing, rotating watches, quarantine—I bought us thirty days of safety with iron rules.
But when rescue was finally near, they dumped all their hunger and fear on me. My ex, Claire, and the gym rat Mason stirred up the crowd, beat me until I couldn’t stand, and locked me outside the door to the rooftop—leaving the horde to close in.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day before everything began.
This time, I won’t step up. I won’t save anyone. I’ll hide what I need to survive—and watch them destroy the building themselves.

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

I was dead, and the whole world was celebrating for my sister.

For twenty-two years, I had been the hardest-working but most invisible daughter in the Sterling family, forever living in the shadow of my gymnastics prodigy sister.

Running a high fever, I begged my family to take me to the hospital, only to hear: "Don't you DARE ruin Bella's award ceremony!"

When I was tricked into the abandoned equipment room and used my last breath to call my boyfriend while lying in a pool of blood, all I heard was: "Grace, quit the drama! Bella's accepting her award on stage!"

On stage, thunderous applause erupted as Bella lifted the "Young Gymnast of the Year" trophy.

And I drew my final breath.

When they returned home triumphant, thinking I had run away in a tantrum, they had no idea I was already dead right under their noses.

For seven years, Rose Bennett was Ryan Knight’s secret wife.
While all of New York believed Samantha Hikk would become Mrs. Knight, Rose silently endured a cold marriage to a man who never loved her.
Until one night, Samantha is rushed into Rose’s emergency room pregnant… and Ryan is the one protecting her.
That is the night Rose stops loving him.
What Ryan never knew was that Rose had already given birth to his daughter years ago after he rejected both mother and child without hesitation.
So Rose walks away—with only two suitcases, a hidden daughter, and the shattered remains of seven years.
But the woman Ryan abandoned is no ordinary wife.
Rose is the hidden genius behind Aetheris Medical AI, the revolutionary system about to change the entire medical world.
As Rose rises to the top, becoming untouchable, powerful, and impossible to replace, Ryan finally realizes the devastating truth—
He didn’t lose a woman who loved him.
He lost the only woman he would ever love.
And by then, even their daughter no longer calls him father.

"I want a divorce. "
The day before her third wedding anniversary, Fiona sees her husband walking to the obstetrics wing with his arm around his ex-girlfriend, Rowena. Rowena is pregnant.
Heartbroken, Fiona rejects Micah, her husband, her mate, the Lycan Prince of the Alastair Kingdom, and leaves the pack.

However, to Fiona’s surprise, after being rejected, Micah goes crazy looking for her all over the world.
Until one day, when he sees her walking down the street holding a little girl, he pins her against the wall.
“Is she my daughter?” Micah hisses.

For three years, she nursed her paralyzed husband, risked her own life testing experimental drugs, and nearly destroyed her health to pull him back from the brink of death.
But on the very day he fully recovered, he held his first love in his arms and declared, “I will take care of her and our child for the rest of my life.”
Heartbroken, she asked for a divorce. In return, he coldly froze all her bank accounts and forced her out of the house with nothing, sneering, “You are nothing without me.”
It was not until she hid her pregnancy test and walked away for good that he finally panicked.

My husband swore I was the only woman he would ever love.
Then my half-sister handed me her ultrasound. His baby. Growing inside her.
Three years of marriage. Three years of building everything together. Gone in one moment.
I should have thrown the proof in his face.
But my doctor gave me news that made his betrayal feel like nothing.
So I did something he will never expect.
I disappeared.
Let him search. Let him lose his mind.
He will never find me.

I was just the mate of the Alpha fated mate and the nanny to my child, not his Luna.
I dedicated my life to him, but he never loved me—this was all because I was just a wolfless omega.
Until his ex returned, everyone, including my mate and even my child, looked down on me. Everyone believed she should be the Luna.
I turned and walked out of the house, choosing to live for myself.
Three months later, I became the world’s most renowned white wolf healer, appearing on television.
Son (shocked): "Dad, is that... my mom on TV?"

They say a second chance heals all wounds—that love tastes sweeter when fate gives you another bite.Does getting back with the same person who hurt you counts?
Paige Lopez thought she had it all—a loving mate, a future as Luna of the Frostridge Pack, and the promise of a family. But everything shattered when her mate, Alpha Noah, rejected her for the most painful reason: she couldn’t give him an heir. To make matters worse, she discovered his affair with his first love.
Humiliated and heartbroken, Paige fled the pack. She tried desperately to stand on her own and forget Noah—until the impossible happened four months later. She was carrying his pup, a powerful Alpha heir.
When Noah heard the news, he sought to reconcile with her, his dark eyes burning with regret and possession. He claimed he never stopped loving her, that the Moon Goddess had destined them to be together.
But Paige’s heart was filled with anger and pain. She would never forgive him so easily—not after his betrayal, not when her heart still bled from his rejection.
Can Noah win her back? Or will Paige make him suffer the way he made her suffer?
One thing is certain—Alpha Noah is about to learn the hard way: rejecting your fated mate has consequences.

Will a man learn to love me if I’m good to him long enough?

I tried for seven years to warm his heart.
I thought if I just held on a little longer, he’d finally see me.
Because I loved him so deeply.

But what did I get in return?
His endless tenderness for another woman.
I pretended I didn’t care, until pneumonia landed me in the hospital.

On the day I was discharged, I found him standing there with our daughter, his whole world focused on caring for that woman.
Even my daughter, whom I’d raised with everything I had, wished that woman was her mother.

In that moment, my heart died completely.

I left the divorce papers, gave up custody, and walked back into the chemical industry.
So what if seven years of marriage had worn me down?
I was still the top genius in my field.

But the divorce I’d wanted so badly never went through.
The man who once couldn’t have been colder to me now held on to me tighter than ever.
Our daughter refused to leave my side.

When he found my divorce papers,
the always cold and arrogant man pushed me against the wall and growled:

“Divorce? You’re mine. For life.”

Seven years of marriage turned to ash the moment I discovered my husband had arranged for his sister-in-law to carry his dead brother's child—using his own sperm to continue the family bloodline.
Lorenzo Corvino—New York's most ruthless don—would drive three hours through a storm just to get me imported cherries. He held me at my mother's funeral, crying until dawn. He hospitalized a man for disrespecting me at a charity gala.
I thought I was the center of his world.
Until the private investigator's flash drive revealed the truth: Lorenzo at the clinic for Claudia's prenatal appointments, his hand on her pregnant belly, whispering "Marco would be so proud."
In the end, on the Corvino family's scale of priorities, continuing his dead brother's bloodline would always outweigh his infertile wife.
The night the yacht exploded, the New York sky burned red. The news reported the mafia don's wife had perished in the flames. He collapsed on the dock, clutching the charred wreckage, breaking down completely.
But he didn't know—
That "dead" woman was across the Atlantic on the Amalfi Coast, one hand on her seven-week baby bump, protecting the secret he'd never discover.
Seven months later, when he stepped into my new life and saw the infant with his deep brown eyes cradled in my arms—
This man who'd built an empire on violence and fear finally understood what he'd truly lost.
And I'll spend the rest of my life making sure he knows: some betrayals are so deep, even "I'm sorry" is more than he'll ever deserve.

Three torturous years hauling bodies on the mortuary night shift, and I'd finally scraped together the cash for my brother Charles's heart transplant.
He just waved it off.
"My heart is fine. Mom and Dad didn't die in that gang war, either. I orchestrated the hit. You were the only casualty."
Nearby, my husband, Gerald, casually lit a cigar to deliver his own confession. "I never went bankrupt. 'Laying low' was just my excuse to avoid squeezing into that dingy funeral home dorm with you. I've been at the Long Island estate."
"I was going to punish you for another three years," Charles added, "but the stench of formaldehyde on you is nauseating. We couldn't take it anymore."
I froze, still clutching the credit card. Charles plucked the plastic from my numb fingers and shoved his phone screen in my face. A banking app stared back at me.
Balance: exactly zero.
"My name is still on the joint account," he sneered, tossing the card into the trash. "I drained it this morning. That blood money you made bagging stiffs is being handed out to street junkies as we speak. We'd never touch that filth."
Before the sheer absurdity of it could suffocate me, my parents walked in. Flanked by bodyguards, they kept their distance, eyeing me like a plague rat.
"You thought being the biological daughter gave you the right to ruthlessly bully Violet. We simply wanted to put you in your place."
"Swear you'll never cross Violet again, and you can remain a Falcone," my mother added coolly. "Otherwise, you're dead to us."
In the stifling silence that followed, my phone buzzed. A text from my oncologist.
[Mrs. Castello, the results are back. It's terminal. Do you consent to initiating the hospice and DNR protocols we discussed?]

For seven years, I told myself James wasn't cold; he simply loved quietly. Then my car died after midnight, and he told me to call a cab. When I earned the promotion I had chased for two years, he forgot my message. But when his ex said she felt sick, he left work with medicine in one hand and her exact coffee order in the other. That was when I understood: my husband knew how to care. He had simply never chosen to care for me. By our anniversary, I would stop waiting, leave his gift on the table, and move out. Only then would James begin to love me—and by then, it would be too late.

On my birthday, I lost my pup from overwork, and at the same moment, a photo popped up on social media—my boyfriend kissing another woman under fireworks.

The caption read: "Found my lost mate."

I finally understood: I was nothing more than a replacement after Kathy left, a temporary harbor while he waited for his true love.

I quietly signed my resignation letter, burned eight years of memories, and turned to leave Stone Lake Pack.

Then, I met another Alpha.

Dangerous, captivating, untouchable—yet he dropped to one knee at our first meeting: "Marry me."

I nodded yes, but my ex lost his mind.

He broke down the morgue door, his guttural scream echoing off the cold tiles as he yanked open drawer after drawer.

"Emily!"

Ethan's hands shook violently as he pulled it open. She lay inside, a white sheet draped over her face. With trembling fingers, he peeled back the fabric. Her face was paper-white, lips bloodless, her eyelashes casting faint shadows. So still.

This wasn't the Emily he knew. The Emily he knew could smile, could cry, could clumsily try to warm his frozen heart. But now, she was just a corpse. A corpse because of him.

"Cancer... stage four..." he whispered, drowning in a tidal wave of panic.

He remembered all those times she had clutched her stomach in agony, and he had mocked her. He remembered demanding she give her heart to his lover. He remembered her final silent words through the surgical glass: "I hate you."

"AHHH—!!" A raw scream tore from his throat. He slammed his fist into the metal drawer, blood blooming across his knuckles.

He collapsed beside her, pulling her stiff, freezing body into his arms. She was so light. Like holding air.

"Emily, I was wrong. I was so wrong," he choked out, crying for the first time in years. "Wake up. Hit me. Hate me. I'm begging you..."

But death is the most absolute silence of all. How far will a man go when he realizes he murdered his only salvation?

“Dad… please… help me…” I pleaded, my shattered ribs piercing my lungs, blood soaking the stretcher.
But Richard, the hospital's top surgeon and my biological father, didn't even glance at me. Instead, he rushed to the next bed.
“Don't be afraid, Chloe. I'm here,” he cooed to his stepdaughter, who merely had a tiny scratch on her arm. “Get the best equipment over here now!” he roared.
As the heart monitor flatlined and my soul left my broken body, I realized the chilling truth: in the choice between life and death, my father gladly let me die.

When an old friend’s husband goes missing, she calls Cindy for help. Fresh from her own tragedy, Cindy returns to the Caribbean, this time to the gorgeous, lush island of Grenada, to find him.Cindy, still grieving her own husband’s death, stays at her friend’s incredible villa on the ocean, as she does her best to help track down her friend’s husband, Ames. As Cindy investigates, she meets the different characters on the island, some local, some fantastically rich, all of whom seem to be involved with each other, either romantically or in shady business dealings. As Cindy uncovers secret affairs, odd money dealings and drugs, she realizes there is a complex web on the island, hidden from public view. And as she digs deeper into Ames’ life, she is shocked to discover how many secrets he had been hiding from his wife—and that she never really knew the man she loved. The police at first refuse to take her seriously, but they soon gain respect for her tough intelligence, courage and determination. Cindy’s relationship with one cop in particular, Mattheus, develops in unexpected ways, as they give each other solace from their losses.But Cindy digs too deep. Soon, she finds her own life in peril, as she heads into the dark underside of the island. Startling developments in the investigation lead to a shocking ending, as a body is discovered, and Cindy alone must find out if they’ve convicted the wrong person…DEATH BY DIVORCE is Book #2 in the Caribbean Murder series, following DEATH BY HONEYMOON (Book #1).Book #3 in the series--DEATH BY MARRIAGE--and Book #4 in the series--DEATH BY DESIRE--are now also available.

The female presidential candidate slipped a real-time tracker into my bag, then handed me the divorce papers.

She still thought I would coddle her like I had for the past five years and stay by her side.

"Fine." I signed the papers and left.

She started tracking me, driving away any women around me, showing up at my house in the middle of the night begging me to come back.

But... weren't you the one who wanted the divorce?

I saw everything.
My husband, his pants down to his ankles, my best friend’s legs wrapped around his waist.
I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I went back to my table, drank until my heartbreak went numb, and made a decision.
I wanted out.
What I didn’t want was Donovan Buford—my ex’s friend, his most feared rival, the lawyer who never loses—showing up every single time my life fell apart.
He caught me when I stumbled drunk.
He broke down a door when Gary cornered me.
He handed me a job when I had nowhere to go.
I told myself he was just being decent.
Then I found out that the divorce I thought I’d fought for alone? He’d been orchestrating it for years.
So what exactly does Donovan Buford want from me?

In a matter of life and death, the kidnappers forced my husband to choose who would walk out alive: my sister or me.

Declan chose me. My sister, Valerie, was executed because of it.

But in the three years following our rescue, Valerie's death became an uncrossable chasm between Declan and me.

He spiraled into heavy drinking, violently channeling all his resentment onto me.

It culminated in that dead of night, when he held my head forcefully underwater in the bathtub. With bloodshot eyes, he roared, "If I didn't have to save you, why would Valerie be dead?! Why wasn't it you?!"

As I suffocated, the man I loved snapped my neck with his bare hands.

When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day of the kidnapping.

Watching my husband feign his agonizing struggle in front of me, I feel nothing but a dead, numbing clarity.

Since I am going to end up dead whether he saves me or not.

Declan, in this life, I'll give you exactly what you want.

"Ensure you go through those papers and sign the divorce. If there's anything you don't understand, contact my lawyer."
Grey's voice was cold as steel, not a flicker of guilt in his eyes.
"Yes, she's your sister, Lila—but I find love and peace with her. At least I can wake up every morning to a child's voice calling me Daddy."
Lila Sims never imagined her twenty-fifth birthday dinner would become the funeral of her marriage.
For three years, she sacrificed her career, her dreams, and herself for Grey Shun—the ruthless CEO of Bintex Ltd. Yet the more she tried to be the perfect wife, the deeper she sank into depression.
Until the night Grey pushed divorce papers across the table and confessed the ultimate betrayal—he found "love" with her sister, the woman who'd secretly given him the child Lila could never give.
Shattered but not defeated, Lila vows to burn down the lie she once called a marriage.
And to do that, she joins hands with Brian Carter—Grey's ex-rival, a dangerous man with his own agenda.
He promises to help her destroy Grey…
but he wants something in return: her heart.
Will Lila risk loving again just to complete her revenge?
Or will she realize that the greatest victory… is walking away before she's broken a second time?

"You feel so f*king good." a deep voice, one I knew all too well, grunted.
I watched my husband Daniel and my assistant Esme banging each other right on my table. My hands flew to my mouth as realization dawned on me, the shock from seeing and hearing them made me shift back, stumbling against the table, and I pushed the chair backward.
"Did you hear that?"
I quickly dodged and stepped back from the glass view.
"What?" Daniel hissed impatiently.
"I think I heard-" Esme trailed off, "Never mind, just hurry up already."
"No need to rush, there is still time before the btch lands." His statement was like a slap to my face, my ears were ringing.
"Really?"
"Yes, baby, a few more rounds for us."
"Once she's back, I can't have you."
"I know, but it's just for a while, you know it's you I love, it's her money that's keeping me."
Their mixed chuckle ran across the room, traveled up my nerves, and made my heart sink to my stomach.


When Elsie uncovers the affair between her husband and her trusted assistant, her world shatters. The dual betrayal by the man she loved for years and the assistant she relied on leave her devastated and nearly hopeless.
But after the initial shock, Elsie regains her strength. She contacts a lawyer to prepare for divorce and makes a bold move- switching jobs and joining the company of her longtime rival, Albie.

What starts as a search for solace turns into something much more dangerous. Albie's relentless pursuit leaves Elsie feeling increasingly drawn to him, despite her resolve. Will she lose herself in a passion she never expected, or find a new path to healing?

“I want out of this marriage.”

The words were cold… ironic coming from the man who betrayed her five years ago.

But the broken woman he once discarded no longer exists.

She has rebuilt herself from the ashes… stronger, sharper, and untouchable. Now a powerful CEO and a devoted mother, she has no interest in reopening old wounds or letting the past back into her carefully rebuilt life.

Unfortunately, fate has other plans.

When the man who shattered her heart is suddenly thrown back into her world, buried emotions resurface… along with a secret powerful enough to change everything.

Because the little boy she fiercely protects may be his son.

Just when the past begins clawing its way back, another threat rises.

The woman currently by his side is not the type to walk away quietly. Ruthless, manipulative, and dangerously obsessed, she will stop at nothing to keep the man she claims as hers… even if it means destroying the woman he once lost and tearing apart the life she fought so hard to build.

This time, the stakes are higher.

And walking away may no longer be an option.

At her own birthday banquet, another woman was the star of the night.
She stood at the door and watched her husband crown his "friend" with a diamond-studded tiara — the very gift she thought was meant for her.
On the stage, he smiled tenderly. Their daughter laughed and danced. She alone was the uninvited stranger.
For six years, she gave up a brilliant research career to become his housewife — and received not a single word of gratitude.
When her heart finally went cold, she walked away, leaving nothing behind but a divorce agreement.
Then she returned to the lab — and stunned the world as a leading scientist. No more shrinking herself for anyone. She became herself again.
And the man who once treated her like air cornered her with red-rimmed eyes:
"Darling, I was wrong. Please come home."

On our wedding anniversary, my husband spent the night with his mistress—and the media exposed everything.
I waited for him all day. William showed no guilt at all.
“You’re upset about the news? It’s just the media making up stories.”
I would have believed him—until I got an anonymous video.
In it, his mistress Delta Hughes walked into a hotel with him, arm in arm.
He didn’t leave until the next morning.
What else could a man and woman do alone in a hotel all night?
Was I supposed to lie to myself?
While William was happily talking to his lover, I handed him a document to sign:Divorce Agreement.
He was still planning to have a baby with me.
He had no idea—one month later, when the divorce took effect,
I would be gone forever.

Victoria fought with her parents and went on a hunger strike to marry Martin, the poor boy she loved.
For Martin's sake, Victoria used everything she had to pave his way and scheme for his success.
When Martin finally climbed to a high position as she had wished, the first thing he did was remove his mask and cast Victoria into hell: using emotional abuse to force Victoria into divorce, trampling on her pride and dignity, cursing her to meet a bad end...
As he wished, Victoria, who feared the cold most, died in the snow.
But Martin went mad. The cold and handsome CEO's hair turned white overnight, calling out to Victoria with deep affection, begging her to wake up and come home with him...

My husband Lucius said: 'My real wife has returned.'
To keep him, for a month I clung to him, making love passionately...

WARNING MATURED CONTENT R16

Layla had everything she ever wanted in life not until the day she began to live with her stepmother after her mother passed on.

Layla was maltreated by her stepmother, but her stepsister scarlet always stood by her until the day she found out that scarlet had been having sex with her boyfriend.

Layla is broken and finds herself in a bar where she has a one night stand with a complete stranger.
Layla discovers that she was pregnant for a stranger and to protect her baby she runs away from home to another city.

Layla's friend takes her in and helps her find a job.
What happens when Layla discovers that her boss is no other than the man who she had a one night stand with and is supposedly pregnant for?

WARNING MATURED CONTENT R16

Layla had everything she ever wanted in life not until the day she began to live with her stepmother after her mother passed on.

Layla was maltreated by her stepmother, but her stepsister scarlet always stood by her until the day she found out that scarlet had been having sex with her boyfriend.

Layla is broken and finds herself in a bar where she has a one night stand with a complete stranger.
Layla discovers that she was pregnant for a stranger and to protect her baby she runs away from home to another city.

Layla's friend takes her in and helps her find a job.
What happens when Layla discovers that her boss is no other than the man who she had a one night stand with and is supposedly pregnant for?

After Divorcing a Billionaire, Secretly Giving Birth to His Triplets

For three years, Chloe Stanhope endured her marriage with Quintus Ellington, only to conclude in divorce, earning herself the mocking title of a forsaken elite wife throughout the city of Phoenix. Six years later, Chloe returned to her homeland, accompanied by a pair of twins, and underwent a miraculous transformation into an internationally renowned healer. Now, she finds herself pursued by countless suitors, each vying for her hand in marriage. The first suitor pleads, 'Miss Stanhope, do your children need a father? I promise to care for them as if they were my own." The second suitor declares, 'Dr. Stanhope, I was captivated by your beauty and brilliance at first sight. I am willing to devote my life to loving you. Quintus Ellington's failure to appreciate you is simply his own blindness."

I died on the second Sunday of May.
Mother’s Day.
My biological mother, the top neurologist in the United States, was standing in front of my corpse.
She looked at the bedsores all over my body, at the ribs that had been stomped broken, and explained coldly to hundreds of cameras:
“Trash from the bottom of society, covered in needle marks like this, doesn’t deserve to dirty my dissection table.”
She didn’t know that the “social garbage” she called a pill-seeking self-harmer was the son she had abandoned ten years ago.
When the cold scalpel cut open my chest, an old photograph stained with black blood slipped out.
The moment she saw it, the woman who had stood above everyone else—
went completely insane…

My five-year-old son, Emrys, was poisoned by the deadly "Silver Eclipse." The only cure, Moonbloom Serum, had been seized entirely by my husband, Corvin, to save it for his nine-month-pregnant mistress, Melisande.
He froze all my bank accounts, forcing me to pawn the ring that symbolized my status as Luna and brave the dangerous black market just to secure the antidote.
But by the time I rushed back to the hospital, covered in blood, my child’s organs had already failed. He was gone.
When I threw the death certificate and divorce papers in Corvin’s face in despair, he just looked at me with mockery, accusing me of using our own flesh and blood to put on an act for his attention.
At that moment, all my love for him died completely. I took my son’s ashes, left the Ashmere pack, and decisively severed a mate bond that had tied us together for years...

For six years, I wore Pack silver. I sold my blood. I scrubbed silver out of Pack den floors. I slept on a basement floor — all to pay off my mate's Pack debt and buy my brother's wolfsbane antidote.
Today, with the receipt finally signed, my brother looked at me and said:
"Seren, I was never poisoned. Our parents aren't dead either. The Rogue raid six years ago — I arranged it. The only wolf hurt that night was you."
My mate stepped up behind him: "I never lost my Pack rank either. I've been at the estate the whole time."
Then my parents — the ones I'd buried seven years ago — walked through the door.
The Pack physician had given me forty-eight hours left to live.
They were going to remember every single one.

After being lost for ten years, I was finally brought home by my biological parents.
They stood in the cramped basement and asked me, "The family went bankrupt a month ago. You won't hold it against us for being poor, will you?"
Overcome with emotion, I hugged them tightly and shook my head fervently.
Later, my father was diagnosed with uremia and needed a large sum of money for surgery. To earn money, I worked three jobs a day, eventually collapsing from exhaustion and being diagnosed with a brain tumor. With no time for treatment, I rushed to deliver food orders.
Unexpectedly, I ran into my father—who should have been in the hospital undergoing dialysis—having booked an entire shopping mall to celebrate the adopted daughter's birthday. My mother, wearing an gorgeous gown I'd never seen before, smiled as she embraced the girl.
"Lily, our precious, Mommy and Daddy will give you everything you want."
My brother, who they said had died in an accident while searching for me, was dotingly putting a diamond necklace on the girl.
It turned out the family hadn't gone bankrupt at all—I just wasn't worthy.

Since I was ten, he told me to call him brother. But brothers don't look at you like that.
My life had only Daniel Wilson in it. He was my guardian, my savior, my world.
"Call me brother," he said, but he forbade me from dating anyone else. He kept me in his manor like a bird in a gilded cage. He promised that when I turned twenty-one, the title of "sister" would change to "wife."
I waited. I obeyed. I loved him with a devotion that bordered on obsession.
But on my twenty-first birthday, he brought her home.
"Julie, meet Lena. She's... special to me."
He introduced his childhood crush to me, his "sister," while holding her hand. The way he looked at her was soft, gentle—the way he used to look at me before she arrived.
"You're just a foster sister," he reminded me coldly when I cried. "Don't cross the line."
The line? He blurred the lines for twelve years! He made me dependent on him, made me believe we were destined, only to discard me when the "real" owner of his heart returned.
Fine. If I'm just a sister, then I'll leave.
But why is he chasing me now, begging me to come back, saying he can't sleep without me in the house?
"I'm not your sister anymore, Daniel. And I'm certainly not your wife."

The day my all-powerful wife personally handed me over to the mob's basement, she was shielding my identical twin brother, furiously accusing me of destroying his ability to carry on the family line.
To compensate for my brother's "trauma," my parents stood by and did nothing. Using her influence, my wife pressured me to take his place at a black-market clinic, testing a lethal drug.
They thought I was just going to suffer some physical hardship, that after enduring these two weeks, everything would be happily resolved.
But they didn't know I had already been poisoned by my brother. I was dying.
I died in agony on the cold operating table. As my body was being gnawed and rotted by rats, they were happily vacationing by the sea.
Only when the lies were exposed did my wife kick down the hidden door. Holding my maggot-infested, decaying flesh, she wept until she vomited blood, then went mad and swallowed a bullet. My parents watched their family shattered and wept on their knees.

My husband abandoned a billion-dollar deal and flew back overnight for me.

Everyone envied Mrs. Harris and her perfect life.

Only I knew that when he knelt by my bed, holding my hand, his cuff was still stained with another woman's breastmilk.

He thought I'd just taken a fall.

He didn't know that while he was cradling his bastard child with that tender smile, our baby had already dissolved into a pool of blood and left me forever.

This time, I won't make a scene. I won't love him anymore.

I slipped the suicide note I'd written long ago into the drawer.

And on this rainy night, I began planning a "death" that would belong to me alone.

In her past life, she gave everything to her brothers, but all they saw was the fake heiress. They even went as far as turning her life into a living hell for the sake of that imposter, leaving her to die in agony.

Reborn and unyielding, she cut all ties with her family and set her sights on revenge.

Want her to return to the family?

Not a chance! She’s already had a whirlwind marriage and transferred her name to a disabled tycoon’s registry!

Want her to call them "brother"?

As if!

Let them cry, let them regret, let them beg for forgiveness—she’d just laugh in their faces!

Let them suffer, let them kneel, let their world fall apart—she’d be front row, popcorn in hand.

I watched my boyfriend down on one knee proposing to another woman.
Turns out that he was cheating on me with her for two years.
Our five years together meant nothing to him. He claimed that he needed her money –connections and that I should be the one to play the role of a mistress. I refused.
I didn’t stick around. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I wanted something strong to numb my pain— and yes, I ended up in the loudest club.
Then I met him, Adrian Foster. The wealthiest and powerful CEO.
The moment I lost my balance, he caught me and pulled me straight in to his chest.
Fate? I didn’t believe in it.
But may be …. He did.

I was reborn one year before my husband fell in love with another woman. This time, I successfully took her place and became the idealized figure, the one admired and longed for by my husband and her other suitors.

"Relax, Ruby. No one is this tense around their fiancé."
I tried to do as he said and relax so I leaned further into him and pressed my back to his front which seemed to ignite a different reaction from him.
"Not that kind of relaxing. You're only going to get me hard." He hissed in my ear.
I smiled and decided to be naughty and play dumb.
He held my arm tightly, "Ruby, stop." He warned.
"I'm not doing anything, Oliver. I'm merely acting my role. Perfectly." I said innocently.
"You really want to play this game?" He replied.
"We're executing our role flawlessly. People are watching." I told him with a smile.
"Then they'd better gobble this one up."
In one swift move, he spun me around and smashed his lips to mine in the presence of everyone present at the party.
Ruby Carter turns down a proposal from hot billionaire Oliver Harrison and in a cruel twist of events, her boyfriend turns out to be a cheater who never loved her.
Heartbroken and sad, she goes on a drinking spree and ends up in bed with the man she turned down, Oliver.
An argument ensues between Ruby and her father regarding her stance on Oliver which unfortunately lands Ruby's father in a coma.The board members see this as a chance to usurp powers from the Carters’ hands and seize control of the company.
Ruby, alone and helpless, has no other option than to accept help from the only one offering to stand by her side, Oliver, in the form of a fake relationship.
Initially, things were going as planned but along the line, Ruby starts to see Oliver in a different light.
A series of ups and downs which were meant to tear them apart actually ended up bringing them closer and making things a little more clearer.
Maybe he isn't that bad after all?
Or maybe she has just been playing her role all too well…

Lydia, a aspiring journalist, admired the hockey captain of Puck Predators, Jose Bailey, to the depths! He was her idol, her everything until the point he actually invited her on a date!

But things have taken quite a turn when she had a one night stand with the man.

In fact, this man is Levi, Lydia's idol's top rival and her new neighbor!

As Lydia delves deeper into the competitive world of hockey for her coveted interview, her initial bias against Levi and his team begins to melt away. The more she uncovers about Levi's life both on and off the rink, the more she finds herself drawn to the man behind the mask of rivalry. Just when Lydia's heart aligns with her true feelings, ready to take the leap and confess her love, Levi vanishes without a trace.

Will Lydia unravel the mystery of Levi's disappearance? Can Lydia reconcile the man she's come to love with the secrets he's kept hidden?

So after this weird plague, basically all the alphas disappeared. Only a few packs had alpha bloodlines left, so they formed an alliance. Whoever could produce an alpha pup in the younger generation becomes the next pack leader.

I'm Natalia from Moon Stone pack. My dad's the alpha, I've got alpha blood, but I can't shift. So everyone treats me like garbage. My mom died young, dad remarried this beta luna who had Stella, my half-sister who's just a beta but gets treated better than me.

In my past life, at the mating ceremony, Damon picked me. I thought I'd won. Turns out the bastard was actually an omega using black magic to fake being beta. When we mated, we had an omega pup instead of an alpha heir.

What does this piece of shit do? Blames ME. Says I faked my alpha bloodline. Then he kills me and my baby and dumps our bodies with the rogues.

But I'm back. It's the mating ceremony again, except this time Damon's going after Stella instead of me. Which makes me think, did that asshole get reborn too?

I died the day I caught my fiancé cheating.

I had walked in on my cousin and my fiancé, completely naked in the backseat of a brand-new Porsche. It was a car bought with stolen money—embezzled from the estate of my recently deceased grandmother, Margaret.

Panic had set in the moment I discovered them. To stop me from calling the cops, he slammed his foot on the gas.

As a pool of warm blood spread beneath my head, I heard him lying to the first responders: "She’s mentally unstable. She threw herself right in front of the car."

I died exactly like that—labeled a hysterical, suicidal woman.

But just when I thought it was all over, my eyes snapped open.

The hot blood that had just blurred my vision, the shattering agony in my bones—it was all gone.

I gave up MIT for them in my last life.
They paid me back by stealing my lab notes, framing me for misconduct, and choosing her over me when I drowned.
I watched them choose her over me a hundred times
Now I’m 17 again. I block all three and fly to MIT.
They think I’m throwing a tantrum.
Wait till they find out who saved them out of that cave—

When the Manhattan morgue finally managed to reach my husband, Victor Hawthorne, he was in the penthouse suite, fucking another woman.
"Mr. Hawthorne, this is the city morgue. We need you to come down and identify your wife's remains."
"Identify what?" he snapped, his thrusts not missing a beat.
"Burn her," he ordered. "Don't bother me with her pathetic ploys."
He tossed the phone onto the nightstand, his focus entirely on the woman beneath him.
Then my body was pushed into the incinerator.
When I was nothing but ashes, the funeral home called him again.
Selena pouted, trailing a nail down his chest.
"Is Cecilia acting up again?"
"I'll go end this farce," Victor sneered, getting out of bed.

I woke up to the truth that I had somehow ended up inside a mafia novel, cast as Richard’s “burdensome little sister.”
The day I was disfigured saving him, Richard held my hand and swore I was his only weakness.
He said even if the fire had turned me into a monster, I would still be his.
But I knew the truth. I wasn’t his weakness but the curse he could never escape.

Ten years ago, on the night of the fire, I stepped into an ocean of flames for him. In return, I got burns across sixty-three percent of my body and ten years locked inside his guilt.
Stella, the mafia heiress who loved Richard so desperately it bordered on madness, once stood beside my hospital bed, crying as she begged me to let him go.
“You’re his only weakness,” she said, her voice shaking. “The Miller Family already has their eyes on him… Please. Just set him free.”

So I put on a veil and married the man Richard hated most, Frank of the Miller Family.
At the wedding, Richard’s eyes were bloodshot as he grabbed my arm.
“Tell me the truth,” he demanded hoarsely. “Are you doing this willingly?”
Through the cheap veil covering my ruined face, I smiled at him. “Yes. I’m tired. I don’t want to be your burden anymore.”

But on our wedding night, Frank tore the veil from my head. He stared at my twisted, scarred face and sneered. “Jesus… you’re fucking ugly.”
When Frank pinned me down, my fingers brushed against the gun Richard had secretly slipped into my wedding dress.
Along with it was a bloodstained note. His handwriting was frantic, almost insane.
Just one word—Live.

And right now, my adoptive father was waiting at the North Dock with men from the Miller Family, ready to silence me for good.
Because the fire ten years ago, the one that burned my adoptive mother to death, was started by him.
Now everyone wants me dead.
But Richard…This time, for you, I’m going to stay alive, even if I have to crawl all the way to the gates of hell.

Reunited, I became the “perfect wife” Julian had always dreamed of.
I didn’t ask where he was when he didn’t come home.
When his “one that got away” came to our door to provoke me, I greeted her with a polite smile.
I even caught them in the act, and instead of screaming, I thoughtfully closed the door for them.
The Elara who used to break down in hysterics over his infidelity was dead.

The woman standing here now was nothing more than a shell, existing solely for her daughter.
Finally, Julian began to panic. He knelt in the pouring rain, begging me to curse him, begging me to still love him—or even hate him.
But as I looked down at him, I didn’t just feel nothing. I felt sick.
"Julian, I don't hate you."
I just find every second spent with you utterly disgusting.

"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.

Everyone knows my husband is obsessed with me.

He's gone against the board for me, walked away from billion-dollar deals, dropped millions at charity galas. Everyone said I'd married into a fairytale. I believed it too.

Until the anonymous email.

In the photo, he was kissing a little girl's forehead—three years old, maybe four. He looked at her the way fathers do.

Three years of marriage. Countless failed IVF attempts. Then finally—I was pregnant.

I was about to tell him when his phone buzzed. He left immediately—for another woman and her child.

I was the only one who didn't know.

If the love was fake, if the marriage was fake—then I could disappear too.

In two days, the typhoon hits. My car will go off the cliff into the ocean. No one survives that.

I'll disappear from his world forever—me and the baby he doesn't know about.