3493 Book(s) Related to reminds me of him colleen hoover

TITLE: MARRIED TO AN OLD BILLIONAIRE, IN LOVE WITH HIS SON.

Eve has no choice but to give up her own dreams and marry the old billionaire who could even be her grandfather ...due to her father's illness and the expensive operational costs.
Despite the sex harassment she faces on a regular basis, the humiliation she receives from the old man's son, Liam is another source of pain for Eve. Then, Eve's only thought is to make as much money as she can and get away from the family.
Nevertheless, as Liam works with Eve, he gradually falls in love with the girl he used to loathe.
What will he do about his hidden feelings for his stepmother?

I used to be the nation's top lock-picking expert. I saved countless lives.

But I couldn't save my own daughter.

At the dock, two children were strapped to bombs.

The girl had less time—I should've saved her first.

But my husband Damien held a knife to his throat, forcing me to save the other one first.

His illegitimate son.

I compromised.

The moment I opened the lock, the kidnapper ripped off the girl's hood.

I never expected her to be Rosie.

My five-year-old daughter.

She looked at me.

Her lips moved, forming the word "Mommy."

Then the explosion tore through everything...

I chose Adrian Cole for a strategic marriage because he understood boundaries.

For three years, he never gave me a reason to regret it.

Then his new assistant fed him from her fork, took my seat in his car, and appeared on his arm at a charity gala while society reporters called them a perfect match.

I gave my husband three chances to remember that I was his equal. He used every one—then admitted he had only wanted to teach me how a proper wife should behave.

Adrian thought our families' business alliance would keep me beside him.

He forgot that I ran Shaw Group before I ever became Mrs. Cole, and I had never needed a marriage badly enough to be trained by one.

The agony of dragonfire tearing through my flesh still seared my memory.
But I had been reborn.
I touched my reflection. No scorch marks. No melted skin. My eighteen-year-old face stared back.
The door burst open. Zephyra swept in, her dragonfire pendant gleaming.
"Megan, don't be nervous." Her voice dripped honey-sweet. "Even if you can't sense dragonfire, the Dragon God won't judge you harshly."
My father's legitimate daughter. Pure dragonblood. The family's pride.
And me? The bastard. A half-blood who couldn't even conjure a spark.
"The prophecy bond isn't set in stone." Her hand landed on my shoulder, grip too tight. "If Lord Roran feels overwhelming, bond with a lower-tier knight. I'll support whatever you choose."
Support me? The word tasted like ash.
Roran was the empire's youngest Dragon Knight Commander. In my past life, I'd believed her lies and married him.
I thought it was salvation. Instead, I became his shield while he slept with Zephyra.
At Zephyra's ascension ceremony, when a wyvern lunged for her, he shoved me into the beast's path.
The wyvern's claws tore into my abdomen. My unborn child died inside me.
Then came the dragonfire.
Roran unleashed it to save Zephyra. The flames swallowed everything: the beast, me, and the dragon egg I'd carried for months.
Through the agony, I watched him scoop Zephyra up. "Save Zephyra! The child—"
My child was already ash. He mourned hers.
"If I hadn't been pregnant, Megan wouldn't be so jealous..." Zephyra whispered.
"If there's a next life, I'll make this right." Roran's hollow guilt.
Next life?
Your dragonfire burned my child alive. You let me bleed out. And now you want redemption?
Not a chance.

Lysa loved Damian for seven years, yet hypnotic manipulation warped his memories, leading him to brand her the killer of his parents. With his own hands, he cut her bones and implanted canine fur, transforming her into a deformed half-human beast and subjecting her to endless humiliation and torture. She watched her mother die a brutal death and was forced to swallow her mother’s cremated ashes. At the brink of death, her ancestral sea spirit pendant awakened, shedding her mangled hound form to birth a tyrannical deep-sea siren. Once the scheming fake heroine’s lies were laid bare, Damian descended into madness, drowning in desperate remorse. Wielding the immortal power of a siren, Lysa cast all her tormentors into an endless living hell—and she would never grant them forgiveness.

For the sake of the so-called family heir, my husband Killian is prepared to kill my child!
That day, Killian locked me in an underground cold storage at ten degrees below zero, all because there is an ironclad rule in the Vittorio family.
The first-born son shall inherit the family’s Mafia empire.
My eldest brother’s wife Ira and I got pregnant at the same time.
To ensure his elder brother’s child is born first, Killian made this insane decision.
"My brother and Ira’s child has to be born first. This is what you owe them!"
He ignored my pleas and forcibly injected me with labor-delaying medicine.
"Allowing this child to be born at all is already the greatest mercy I can grant you."
Killian said to me with undisguised disgust.
I curled up in agony on the icy concrete floor, feeling the little life in my womb fading away bit by bit, shedding tears of utter despair.
"My baby… Mommy is so sorry for you…"

I drove through a snowstorm to bring my son his asthma inhaler, only for my car to plunge down a slope.

Bleeding and trapped, I called my husband twenty-seven times. My own son rejected every call, then blocked me. They were taking family photos with my husband's former fiancée and did not want me—his real mother—interrupting them.

After two years of marriage, I finally got pregnant. I rushed to my husband's office with lunch to share the news, but his assistant mistook me for a sugar baby trying to trap the CEO. She dragged me into a back room and dumped scalding coffee on my head. When I tried to explain I was the wife, she laughed and called security. They stripped my clothes, kicked my stomach repeatedly, and destroyed my ultrasound photo. I begged them to call my husband, but they smashed my phone instead. By the time he found me, our baby was gone.

My boyfriend successfully proposed with a spectacular drone light show.
The whole city erupted in celebration: “Mr. and Mrs. Hansen—finally, a couple united!”
Yet, nestled in his arms was none other than his secretary.
The "Mrs. Hansen" everyone speaks of is now nothing more than a forgotten memory, buried beneath the earth.

My fated mate rejected me in front of the whole royal court and called me too fat to be his Luna.

The hall laughed. My bond snapped in my chest, and I stood in my ceremony dress with all my eyes on me, wishing the floor would eat me.

I'm Clara Beaumont, the hidden scent warden for plus-size folks. This Scentveil, guarding our border, is mine. I did it with these hands every night, as my beautiful sister Aurora smiled for the court and took my name, my work, and then my mate. In one breath Prince Adrian selected her, and in the next breath he commanded me to serve at their engagement.

Then Kellan Brooks came to my downfall. The Alpha of Emberfall took a look at my bruised wrist, caught my work on the wind, and gave me what no one ever had. A home. My own name. A choice.

At the gate Adrian caught me and told me his mate was not going anywhere, and before the entire court, a huge, silver, dire wolf was done with hiding.
Without me, his precious barrier will fall. With Kellan, I will not beg. I will burn, rule, and reign.

Ethan said he loved me, yet he planned to get me pregnant, push me out of our company, and use our child and marriage to trap me at home.
He needed an obedient wife, a partner who would protect his company, and a woman who would never leave.
But the woman he truly wanted was the lover who had left him seven years ago.
So on his birthday, I brought both families to his door and delivered the “love of his life” right to him.
He expected me to break down and beg him to come back.
He had no idea I was walking away from far more than our marriage.

Typically, brides swap bouquets for good luck when wedding motorcades cross paths.
But in Liam’s Southern hometown, they had a twisted tradition: they swapped brides.

When our limousines met bumper-to-bumper, Kinsley leaned right past me. She pressed a lingering kiss to my fiancé’s cheek.
"Hope you don't mind, Rachel," she purred with innocent malice. "I’m stealing your groom."
The groomsmen howled like it was a frat party.
"Might as well take his honeymoon suite key too!" one shouted. "Liam wouldn't survive the wedding night without his childhood sweetheart anyway!"
They roared with laughter.

I sat frozen, my gaze locked on Liam. Just tell them to stop, I prayed. Just choose me. Just this once.
Instead, Liam gave me that familiar, condescending smile and patted my trembling hand.
"Don't pout, Rachel. You're the mature one, remember?" he coaxed. "It's just a local tradition. We can't break customs today."
Something inside me finally snapped. There was no anger left—just a bone-deep exhaustion.
The old me would have screamed and demanded respect. But today, I simply slipped my hand out from under his.

Without a word, I stepped out of the car. Ignoring Liam's sudden look of confusion, I walked straight past the cheering groomsmen toward the other limo.
Kian Porter—Liam’s college roommate—leaned against the hood. I reached out and smoothly looped my arm through his.
The laughter choked to a dead halt. In the deafening silence, I looked up at Kian with a steady smile.
"Let's get out of here, fiancé."
If Liam wanted to play by their twisted traditions, fine. This time, I was giving him exactly what he asked for.

I've been secretly married to him for five years, but he's never treated me as his wife. Our six-year-old daughter has never called him Dad in public.

One drunken night, I got pregnant. He gave me a marriage contract that came with one condition: secrecy.

I thought time would change everything. I stood by him through the company's darkest days. When I was hospitalized with a bleeding ulcer, he didn't come. When our daughter was born, he was in a meeting. Every moment that mattered, he wasn't there.

Then that clumsy intern showed up.

From that point on, he gave her all his attention and patience. He broke his own rules for her again and again. That's when I finally understood: when someone doesn't love you, they just don't.

So I took my daughter and disappeared from his world completely.

But why did that calm, controlled man lose his mind?

My husband locked me in a suitcase to punish me for frightening his childhood sweetheart. He said I could come out when I apologized. By the time his assistant warned him about the smell, our baby and I were already dead. But Adrian still expected me to crawl out and beg for forgiveness—and I was trapped beside him, watching.

我为帝国征战18年，荣耀满身是帝国最强的后盾，直到一次意外被敌军暗袭导致昏迷。
　　
等我再次睁开眼，却发现女儿被同学扒光衣服，用狗绳牵在马路上走。
我曾经视若珍宝捧在手心里的妻子，也被逼迫跪在其他男人面前张开嘴。
　　
　　年迈的母亲更是被人逼到跪地哀求。
　　
　　帝国将军的家人居然沦落到如此境地。
　　
　　三年，我不过只昏迷三年而已……
　　
　　恨意在我心中蔓延，我莱昂回来了，从今往后欺辱过我家人的人，我一个都不会放过。

The day I received my medical report and found out I was pregnant, my husband—Alpha Godfrey Hansen—held a small wedding ceremony in the hospital garden with his first love and former mate, Gillian Boyd.
He explained, “Her final wish in this life was to be my bride.”
But what about me?
What was I to him? A replacement?
It finally hit me—ten years of unwavering devotion and sacrifice meant nothing compared to a single tear shed by his first love.

When I woke up, I realized I’d lost my memory.

The maid told me Leno was my husband.

His face felt strangely familiar, but whenever he got close, my body resisted him for no reason at all.

Not until midnight, when I overheard Leon talking to a man, did I learn the truth—my real husband was Gaius.

He was the one who had a doctor drug me into amnesia so he could fool around with Flora… and he even had Leon pretend to be my husband.

At the victory banquet, I saw Gaius and Leon standing together—and realized they had identical faces. That’s when I understood why Leon’s expression never matched the one in the photos.

And my husband had no idea I’d already uncovered everything. He was openly flirting with Flora right in front of everyone.

“You’re mine. Even if you scream, even if you run.”

Elara thought being banished would destroy her. Instead, it led her straight to Kael Draven, the Lycan king whose touch burns, whose hands take what he wants, whose darkness threatens to consume her.

But she’s more than ordinary; she’s his mate, his curse, his obsession. Bound by blood, trapped in a marriage neither of them wanted, and hunted by enemies, Elara must survive Kael’s world without losing herself.

And Kael Draven will stop at nothing to make her his… body, soul, and destiny.

DAVIS GREY POV:-

The very first time I saw her at my business partner's office. It was her first day and She was sipping her coffee. Yummmm, I wanted to fuck her sweet little mouth. The second time I saw her i wanted my tongue to roamed all over her body. The third time I saw her with another man, I wished to fuck her pussy mercilessly that she will never imagine about another man. I desired myself to buried deeply in her clit. I always wanted to crush her whole body with my Bulge shaft. But The last time When i meet her, I saw some different kinds of emotions in her deep charcoal eyes. Fuck man, I always admired her but why the hell I am always thinking about her. Now, When I have seen her after two years of long time. Why my mind and heart is again occupied by her thoughts. She is nothing in front of the models who sleeps with me. Why? Why? Why? I don't have any answer and the question is why the fuck she never notice me? She never gave any attention to me And she is ignoring me like a disease.

Sorry, SUNSHINE! But you can't ignore me forever because it's time to show this Indian Beauty that what kind of monster I am. You're Mine, baby. My Possession.

And now I know about my feelings for you.

Story of New York billionaire MONSTER VS Indian Beauty.

A Story of Monster's Madness, possessiveness and obsession....

"I want to break you into tiny pieces at the same time I also want to mend you...." DAVISH GREY

His love was Dark and Dominant but she was his SUNSHINE..

He was passionate and Obsessive about her but She was afraid of him and his monstrous possessiveness..

....

Not your regular billionaire romance

She had a son with the most dangerous man in the city.
And he can never find out.

Four years ago, Aurielle Duval spent one reckless night with a stranger—
a night that left her with a little boy who has his impossible blue eyes.

She never learned his name.
He disappeared before sunrise.
And she rebuilt her life alone… until the day she walks into an interview at the world’s most powerful company.

Its CEO is Kieran D’Angelo.
Cold. Untouchable. Ruthless.

The man she prayed she would never see again.

He doesn’t recognize her
but he watches her, tests her, and claims her as his personal assistant.

What Kieran doesn’t know is that Aurielle carries more than his past.

She is the erased daughter of the D’Angelo empire—
a child they tried to destroy before she ever opened her eyes.

And the son she hides?
He’s the living proof of a truth that could tear the family apart.

When Kieran’s dark, charming cousin Dante returns—
obsessed with Aurielle and hungry for power—
a dangerous game begins.

Love, obsession, and blood collide.
And in a family built on lies,
the woman they tried to erase may be the one who brings the empire to its knees.

TRIGGER WARNING!!!
This story contains themes of obsession, possessiveness, stalking, emotional manipulation, and psychological control. It is unapologetically intense and unsettling in all the right (and wrong) ways.
Be guided.


Eight years ago, Shannon watched her stepbrother get handcuffed and taken to jail for a crime she committed.

He took the fall for it without hesitation. Not because he was noble. God, no. But because obsession looks a lot like love when you're seventeen and scared.

After that night, she never went to visit him in prison, nor did she reply to any of his letters.

She buried him with the past and went on to live a peaceful life without him.

But the past never forgets.

Eight years later, when she was living a simple, peaceful life, had a decent job and a husband who loved her deeply, Shannon's past came knocking at her door.

Strange things start happening... Doors left open. Favorite things mysteriously replaced. Eyes she can't see but feels always watching her.

Everyone says she's paranoid. Everyone says He is still in jail.

No one believes her when she says she had a STALKER.

Her judgment is already upon her because, now, HE is out of prison. And the first place he goes is her doorstep, because he says she owes him her life. And he's come to collect what's his.

How far can Shannon run from a man who never stopped loving her in the most terrifying way?

A man who'd kill anyone, even her husband, just to make her his?

HIS NAME IS KENAI... The Stalker You Never Want To Have.


If you enjoy slow-burn stalker dynamics and morally gray characters, this one's for you.

In the dim VIP massage room, I dragged my crippled right leg. Once a prima ballerina, I was now reduced to massaging clients just to survive.

Until I realized the man lying on the table was my so-called "penniless" boyfriend.

Right now, he was laughing and bragging to a friend. He had paid a top surgeon $300,000 to intentionally sever my Achilles tendon. As long as I remained a cripple, the national ballet championship would safely belong to his mistress.

For two whole years, he faked bankruptcy and crushing debt.

I gave up on my medical treatments and my ballet dreams, working two grueling jobs day and night just to support him.

But all of my suffering... was just to clear the obstacles for his lover.

My hands froze mid-air.

He had no idea that the disabled masseuse standing behind him in a mask was me.

That very night, I packed my only bag and boarded a red-eye flight out of the country.

Two years later. The International Ballet Finals.

The blinding spotlight hit the stage. I stepped out in my Black Swan tutu, letting the horrific surgical scars on my right leg be exposed to an audience of thousands.

As the heavy bass dropped, I leaped with absolute power, executed a flawless rapid pirouette, and landed perfectly.

In the VIP front row, my ex-boyfriend—who had long dropped his fake poverty to inherit his family’s billionaire empire—stumbled, knocking over his chair in absolute shock.

The moment the competition ended, he tore through the security line like a madman.

He fell to his knees at the edge of the stage. With bloodshot eyes, he reached out with a trembling hand, trying to touch my ankle.

"I'm so sorry... please, come home with me..."

On the day of our mate bond, Alpha Samuel decided we were going to be a childfree couple himself.
He held my hand and said affectionately, “No kids. I only want you.”
However, he came home with a pup in his arms later.
He claimed a friend had died, leaving the child alone, and asked us to take him in “just for a while.”
I didn’t make a scene. I didn’t demand answers. I didn’t even ask twice.
I kept cooking and cleaning, swallowed the unease and told myself to trust him.
Until that night, when I asked him where my dog had gone.
He didn’t answer. He set a bowl of dog meat soup in front of me instead.
He said my spirit dog could hurt the pup. But the spirit dog could sense bloodline, its growl wasn’t for that pup. It was for the lie he’d been hiding for three years.
At that moment, I finally understood: the pup he called “alone in the world” carried the exact same blood as him.
So our agreement was a lie and the so called childfree was an excuse.
And he’d already arranged what my ending was like when the day I agreed to bond with him.

Two days before Valentine's Day, I found the tag of a pendant in my husband's coat.
For one bright, stupid second, I thought it was mine.
Then he kept making excuses — the office, the drawer, a box that was never in it. No pendant ever reached me.
And I stopped being stupid.
He hadn't forgotten. He hadn't lost it. He had simply bought it for someone who wasn't me.
Most women would have cried. Instead, I held out my bare neck and thanked him for the surprise.
I let him stumble. I let him run back to the office and run back home, sweating through his own story, until he put the real thing into my hands.
He wanted two lives. I kept the receipt.

I don't realize how badly I've been wronged until they're strapping me to the gurney.

My name is Camille Brooks. I'm one of the best cardiothoracic surgeons in the city, and I have never lost a patient on my table.

My fiancé, Adrian Vance, is the golden boy of the entire hospital. We're supposed to get married next month.

It's a stormy night when he calls, telling me to get to the hospital right now. There's a patient bleeding out, and only I can save them.

I race through the rain, but I get stuck in traffic halfway there. By the time I push through the OR doors, the patient has no pulse.

The family points at me. They say I botched the procedure and killed him. And Adrian Vance, my own fiancé, takes the stand and shows up with "ironclad evidence" against me.

I have nothing to fight back with. I go to prison. My parents can't handle it. It destroys them both. They take their own lives.

It's only after I die that I learn who really held the scalpel that night: Daisy Whitman, the woman Adrian never got over.

I was just the fall guy.

Then I open my eyes.

I'm back. One hour before everything falls apart, riding through the rain toward the hospital.

This time, I'm going to survive.

And I'm going to watch both of you burn.

I’d worked at my husband’s company for three years, only to be fired by him right when a promotion was within my reach.
It was all because I’d been swamped with overtime work one day and neglected the cat he’d given me.
When I came home that night and found the cat food hadn’t been refilled like usual, my husband, who had always treated me with tenderness, flew into a rage for the first time.
“If you can’t even take proper care of a cat, then don’t come to work at all. Stay home and raise it full-time.”
I parted my lips to explain myself, tears clouding my eyes, but he wouldn’t listen to a single word I said. The very next day, he instructed the HR department to dismiss me from the company.

Six years of marriage—I once naively believed I was the chosen one of fate. Under the full moon, Alpha Jack of the Silverfang Pack knelt on one knee and placed the Luna’s crown upon my head, whispering, “Leyna, you are my only home.” In that moment, I believed in his tenderness.
But at eight months pregnant, my body heavy with the life I thought was ours, I overheard him speaking coldly to his friend Alpha Zane:
“That’s just Claire’s embryo, nurtured in Leyna’s womb. Letting her give birth herself? Too ugly to bear.”
So the birth control herbs over the past three years—he had fed them to me himself.
The so-called IVF? A lie to spare his beloved Alpha, Claire, from pain.
And me? Nothing more than a walking incubator—the child wasn’t even mine.
That night, I stood outside the door, listening as Jack and Claire laughed and flirted. She wore my red dress; he draped my coat over her shoulders. He said casually, “She won’t suspect anything. And even if she does, what can she possibly do?”

Olivia had lived in pain for most of her life. Because of her unusually large body, people spat at her wherever she went, tripped her in front of hallway lockers, humiliated her openly.
The only light in her life was the man she had secretly loved.
He was the golden boy of campus, never short of girls to dance with. They had a one-night stand—but later, at a fraternity gathering, he mocked her, laughing about how she smelled disgusting.
The past has a way of resurfacing when you least expect it.
Olivia Evans thought she had left her painful past behind. Once known as Emma Cooper, the fat girl constantly humiliated by her classmates, she buried those memories along with her old identity. Changing her name and transforming her life, Olivia became someone far from the girl who once carried qthe weight of ridicule. But when she walks into a clinic with her daughter and comes face-to-face with Noah Ezekiel Morgan, the man who once shattered her heart, everything she tried to forget comes rushing back.
Now, with her daughter’s life hanging in the balance and a high school reunion she never planned to attend, Olivia is forced to confront the man who hurt her deeply. Will she keep her true identity a secret, or will the emotions she’s kept buried for so long rise to the surface?
The weight of the past may be harder to carry than she ever imagined.

At Nico's funeral, the screen of the phone in my hand suddenly lit up, and I accidentally answered a FaceTime call from the Dario Falcone of three years ago.
On the screen, he was still wearing that faded leather jacket, the scar above his brow left from protecting me.
He was still a penniless bodyguard, clutching my ultrasound report with barely contained excitement, his eyes shining:
"Vittoria, isn't our baby adorable?"
"Do you think it's a strong little boy or a beautiful little girl?"
"No matter who he takes after, I'll protect him with my life."
I knelt on the cold floor, staring silently at him.
The Dario from three years ago sensed that something was wrong. The smile slowly froze on his face.
The next second, the heavy church doors were kicked open.
The priest's prayer came to an abrupt stop.
The Dario of three years later, the terrifying Mafia Don, strode inside.
His tailored suit was immaculate, while the bodyguards behind him roughly knocked over the wreaths lining the aisle.
He stopped in front of me, his voice cold and utterly emotionless.
"Vittoria, you actually staged a fake funeral for your own son just to get revenge on Colette. You really are sick."
I didn't look up or acknowledge his fury. I simply stared at the bodyguard on the screen from three years ago, the one who looked utterly bewildered.
Then, numb, I turned the phone around and pointed it at the tiny white coffin in the center of the hall.
Looking at the screen, I answered the man's question from three years ago.
"A boy. He was adorable, and he had eyes just like yours."
"But he's already dead."

In my last life, the city became a locked-down apocalypse zone.
My “family-first” elite father shoved my older brother into a raider’s shotgun just to survive.
My pampered socialite mother thought I was dead weight—and personally threw me into a tide of infected.
When I opened my eyes again, it was the third day after the world collapsed.
Watching my mother still dilute her luxury face cream with the last half case of water—while my father lectured me about principles—
I drew my tactical knife and pinned it clean through the solid oak table.
“From now on, supplies are split. Rot here and prove it to me.”

At our annual family masquerade gala, my best friend, tipsy from champagne, suddenly leaned close to my ear.
"If I ever became another man's mistress, would you still want to be my best friend?"
Before I could recover from the provocative question, she swirled her champagne and continued.
"Actually, I didn't miss yesterday's family meeting because of a migraine."
"The man installed a floor-to-ceiling mirror in his private casino office. He wanted to try something a little crazy with me."
"And that trip to Las Vegas last month? I lied about inspecting the casinos. His wife is about as exciting as a block of wood, so he took me to Monaco on his yacht instead."
My fingers tightened around my champagne flute. I froze.
Then she burst out laughing and patted my shoulder.
"Oh, God, I'm kidding! You should have seen your face."
I slowly exhaled, managing a strained smile.
It wasn't until late that night that I went to the casino with an urgent port smuggling agreement in hand to find my husband.
The moment I opened his office door, I noticed that the original floor-to-ceiling windows had been replaced with a massive one-way mirror.

For years, I'd covered everything for my mate's family. The house, the car, the bags, the clothes.

So when they planned a family vacation, I thought I'd finally earned a spot.

Instead, they booked tickets for the whole family, plus Sloane, the childhood sweetheart who never quite left my mate's side. Even the dog had plans.

I was the one they expected to stay home and keep working. They called it a kindness.

And they expected me to cover the bill.

Fine. Let them go.

It would be the last trip of theirs I ever paid for.

An accident took my sight when I was a child. From that day on, my world was nothing but darkness.

When I was little, Derek, my childhood sweetheart, held my hand and swore he would be my eyes and protect me for the rest of my life.

But as we grew older, he began to see me as a burden just because I was blind. He fell for my bright, outgoing younger sister, Lilith.

He often hid my cane and watched me struggle to find my way. Then he and Lilith would laugh at me together.

Today was my coming-of-age mate party. It was supposed to be the day Derek and I became mates.

Instead, he brought in five werewolves and had them pretend to be him so I would have to pick him out from among them.

He said that if I chose him correctly, we would mate today.

But I could smell every one of them clearly.

Not a single man among the five was Derek.

Then again, whether I chose him or someone else had stopped mattering a long time ago.

I was carrying Don Elijah’s child. But on the exact day I went into labor, the man I loved dragged me to an underground freezer—standing at a deadly minus ten degrees Celsius—and locked the heavy metal door.

The reason? The Varro Mafia family’s ironclad rule: the firstborn son inherits the entire empire. His brother’s wife, Elena, was also pregnant, our due dates separated by a single day.

To guarantee his brother’s child secured the throne, Elijah callously snuffed out my hope.

"Elena’s child must be born first," he demanded coldly. "This is what you owe them!"

He ignored the warm rush of my broken water. He ignored my agonizing, tearing contractions. He shoved me into the icy darkness, violently injecting me with a drug specifically designed to halt my labor.

Curled up on the frost-covered concrete, freezing and completely alone, I clutched my stomach in sheer agony. In the suffocating cold, I felt the terrifying stillness. I felt the tiny, fighting heartbeat inside me slowly, torturously fading away.

Hot tears streamed down my face, freezing before they hit the ground.

"My baby..." I whispered into the pitch-black void, my heart shattering into a million pieces. "Mommy is so sorry..."

Elijah sacrificed our child out of blind loyalty to his brother. But when he finally opens that frostbitten door, he won’t merely find a broken woman—he will face the terrifying, irreversible ruin of his own legacy.

Everyone in the New York mafia world knew that Ethan Leone, the Don of the Leone family, was obsessed with his wife.
And I was his legally wedded Donna.
But the moment I pushed open the doors to the nightclub with my pregnancy report in hand.
I saw my husband’s hand resting on his stepmother Serena’s swollen belly.
The report slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor.
Serena glanced at it without the slightest concern.
Then she smiled.
“You can’t have children anyway. Once the baby’s born, you can raise it.”
That was the moment I decided to divorce him.
But later, while Ethan was away, she shoved me from behind at the top of the staircase inside the family mansion.
I tumbled down the stairs.
Blood poured between my legs.
Ethan rushed over.
He saw it.
He saw the blood.
But in the end, he chose to pick Serena up and run out the door without looking back.
I lay in a pool of blood, pulled out my phone, and called my family lawyer.
“The money my family loaned the Leone family three years ago…”
“Prepare a demand notice.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Diana… if you take that money back, the Leone family will go bankrupt.”
I stared blankly at the ceiling and wiped away my tears.
“I know.”

At the dinner party, Alexander had his arm around my waist, chatting and laughing with clients in German.
I was about to tell him the happy news that I was pregnant.
He was tender and affectionate in front of me, kissing my cheek from time to time.
But they didn't know my German was fluent enough to understand every dirty detail.
Like right now, I heard him bragging to the client about how wild things got last night with his stepsister Lillian.

I was Ethan Blake's perfect mistress for five years, adhering faithfully to his rules of secrecy and obedience.

I knew his coffee preferences, his pre-meeting anxieties, yet it wasn't until his arranged-marriage partner returned that I understood I was merely a replaceable 'item' in his life plan.

When my mother passed and the pressure of medical bills vanished, I realized for the first time — that contract with its monthly transfers had bought not just my time, but my very right to say 'no' to him.

And now, when I no longer need his money...

This transaction, forged in the name of bondage, will be terminated by me.

I waited seven years for Lucas.
The moment our Mate Bond was finally sealed, our wedding night left me so exhausted I couldn’t even move and then my phone lit up with photos of him having sex in a car with Isabella, the widow of his dead brother.

Everyone told me not to overthink it. Our relatives brushed it off. Even the Elders stepped in to smooth things over for him.
But behind closed doors, Lucas showed his real face—Restore the Mate Bond or he would destroy my family’s company.

When I fought back, he slapped me so hard it shattered the twenty years of relationship between us. He froze my accounts, and my mother was rushed to the hospital because of sheer stress.
That still wasn’t enough. He demanded that I apologize publicly at a business gala, to the woman wearing his brother’s wedding gift. He even ripped away the moonstone necklace my mother left me.

I was shoved into a champagne tower, blood all over me. And he never looked at me once. All his tenderness was reserved for his sister-in-law.
Just when I’d finally gone numb, top-tier Alpha Finn walked in with a one-billion-dollar contract. “Your designs are worth this much. And I don’t like people touching what I’ve set my eyes on.”

Seven years of devotion wasted on a lie. This time, I’m tearing the fake Mate Bond to shreds and I’ll make every traitor pay!

Everyone said I’d traded five years of my youth and my unwavering devotion for an engagement that every woman envied.
My fiancé, Felix Smith, seemed to believe it, too. He gave me pearls, promised me a bright future, and wrapped me up in a web of tenderness, layer after layer.
Until that afternoon, when he held me close, yet used a language he thought I didn’t understand to weave the perfect "wedding" con over the phone.
That was the moment I finally realized: over these five years, who had he really been looking at through me? And every pearl he ever gave me, whose tastes was he remembering?
When the elevator failed and darkness crashed down, the person he protected on instinct wasn’t me.
When the wind howled across the empty outskirts, the person he chose to abandon was me.
I’d been learning how to love him, how to become a proper bride. In the end, what I learned was how to exit quietly, out of his world with Serena.

For 364 days, Jasmine Gallo lived in silence and she felt that silence louder than anything she had ever heard. She lost her hearing because of him but found her voice without him. A car accident arranged by Elle Esteban, the foster sister of her boyfriend, left her deaf. Dante Esteban, the man she loved for years, sat by her bed, signed until his fingers bled, and promised her a future. She believed him. She even had his ring made. Then she heard the truth behind closed doors. “It’s been more than a year already. Isn’t it high time Jasmine let it go? Elle was freaking nineteen and was pretty reckless. But during her one year away, I had made sure she learnt her lesson so she’s more matured now, not just physically but mentally so everyone can move on from this.” Dante forgave the girl who tried to kill her and treated the issue as nothing serious.
In one night, everything broke and Jasmine walked away to take up a position she had previously rejected for Dante’s sake. She was going to marry the most formidable man in Spain, Leonardo Madrigal.
There would be no more chances for anyone to hurt her. She will no longer be Dante’s deaf girl or her family’s sacrificial lamb.
She would be Mrs Madrigal.
And for the first time in a while, the noise of the world would be hers.

Dante planned to trade Elena’s mute sister into a marriage pact to protect his mistress from her own lie. For six years, Elena had built his empire with her father’s routes, her money, and her loyalty. On the wedding day, she arrived with all seven route tokens, exposed the forged deal, and handed him the divorce papers he had signed without reading.

Nine months pregnant and about to give birth, my husband Zane locked me in the wine cellar.
All because his widowed business partner, Elena, was also giving birth today.
"You almost made Elena go into labor early. You need to think about what you've done."
Agonizing contractions wracked my body. I dropped to my knees, begging him, "Zane, please─the baby is coming now! He will die!"
He just shoved me down the cold stone steps, his eyes icy cold.
"Stop lying! Your due date isn't today. You'll do anything for attention, won't you?"
"Tonight, only Elena's safety matters. You'll stay here until you admit you were wrong!"
The heavy wooden door slammed shut, snuffing out the last bit of hope I had left.
Hours later, Zane was cradling Elena's newborn son, calling the maid.
"Elena had a boy. I couldn't be happier. Let my wife out—I'm willing to forgive her little tantrum today."
But on the other end of the phone, the maid was sobbing.
"Sir... your wife and the baby... they're already gone."

I’d spent six years working under an alias for the High Council.
The day I came home, I happened to see my daughter being slapped by a woman and forced to kneel down.
I slapped the woman back and called my husband, Derek.
The call connected. In the background, I heard his newlywed wife giggling.
In a voice so cold I barely recognized it, he said, “No one can save you.”
Then he hung up.

That woman sneered, “Here, even the air you breathe belongs to Alpha Derek!”
She had no idea Derek only went from an ordinary Gamma to a Pack king because I’d been laying the road for him from behind the curtain.
Now he had his precious wife and son in his arms, and he still let them treat my daughter like a dog.

I smiled.
If he’d forgotten who lifted him onto the throne.
Then I wouldn’t mind dragging him down with my own hands.

“I’m the one deciding your fate, Derek.”
I took my daughter’s hand and looked straight at the man in front of me.
“Game over. Your Alpha era ends here.”

My fiancée, with whom I've been in a relationship for three years, has threatened to break off our engagement for the hundredth time, forcing me to donate a kidney to her adopted brother, who's faking illness and acting like a hypocrite.

My biological parents even threatened to sever ties with me: "You have a healthy body. Ian has nothing but us. You can't even bear to part with a kidney. You're so selfish and cold-blooded!"

They don't know that my hands, which I used to play the piano, had already been crushed by gangsters while cleaning up their mess; they also don't know that at this moment, I have a critical illness notice for late-stage bone cancer in my pocket.

Seeing the undisguised disgust and indifference in my fiancée's eyes, I swallowed the taste of blood in my throat and calmly signed the consent form for the live organ removal.

"Okay, I'll donate. I'll give you back my life along with it."

Later, I died like a dog on the rusty operating table of a shady clinic, my bones and marrow completely drained.

But when I was truly reduced to dust and left without even a complete corpse... the truth about my vicious foster brother faking illness was exposed.

The aloof and arrogant female CEO who once treated me like trash went completely mad overnight.

She knelt desperately before my nameless grave, plunged a sharp knife into her abdomen, and collapsed in a pool of blood, pleading for me to see her one more time.

"You're using the embryo that you and Serena made and letting Wendy think that the children she's carrying are hers! Damn, man.I can't believe that you could do something like that to your wife." Adrian's friend said, sounding shocked.
"She deserves it," Adrian replied, followed by his friend's laughter. "She's the reason why Serena broke up with me back then."
What would you do if your husband used your womb to have children with his ex?
Wendy sacrificed everything for her marriage. She endured endless hormone shots, cruel whispers, and quiet humiliation, all to give her husband the children he wanted. When the IVF finally succeeded, she believed she had saved her marriage.
Until the day she overheard the truth. The twins she had fought so hard to carry were never meant to be hers. Her husband never wanted a child with her. She was nothing more than a surrogate in her own marriage.
Determined to find answers, Wendy stormed into the hospital. Fate delivered a twist no one could have seen coming: her husband was severely infertile. The IVF had failed. The babies growing inside her belonged to another man.
Wendy walked away with no tears and no second chances.
But Adrian, the man who once betrayed her, came begging for reconciliation.
"Wendy, we can fix this. We can start over."
Too late.
Because somewhere in the same city, Julian Harrington, the untouchable, relentless, and enigmatic CEO who rules the city's business empire, is searching for the mother of his twins.

"Turn on the livestream, let everyone see how wet and slutty my wife's pussy gets when she's ruined." My husband sneered, ruthlessly spreading my trembling legs on the tattoo bed.

I sobbed and thrashed, but his strong hands pinned my wrists. The buzzing needle pierced the sensitive flesh of my private area, vibrating against my clitoris as he forced a succubus mark onto me. I let out a sharp, pathetic moan, my body involuntarily slicking with a mix of blood and arousal under the agonizing pain.

By the time the needle carved the eighteenth humiliating word into my bare, heaving breasts, my mind was completely broken. He just wiped the blood from my nipples and left to fuck his pregnant mistress.

He thought I was just a toy. At his wedding banquet, he threw me to a pack of hungry men. "Do whatever you want with her holes. Even if it's a gangbang, I take no responsibility." Disgusting hands immediately groped my bare thighs, brutally ripping my dress apart to expose my tattooed chest. Rough fingers pinched my nipples and shoved into my dripping core, making me scream in despair.

But I didn't die there. I tanked his company and fell into the arms of his biggest rival.

When my ex-husband finally realized the mistress's baby wasn't his, he called me, sobbing and begging. I just pressed the phone to my ear, gasping loudly as Tristan's thick, hard cock thrust deep into my tight, wet pussy.

"Ah... fuck, Tristan, deeper..." I moaned shamelessly into the receiver, hearing my ex-husband's breathless silence on the other end. "Henry," I panted, riding my new lover hard, "Your empire is dead, and so are we."

After my mother abandoned me, I did everything to be the perfect "good pup" so I wouldn't be thrown away again.
I smiled as I drank the burning pepper-water my brothers tricked me with. I held out my bleeding hands to take my father's cruel beatings. Even when they locked me in a pitch-black basement to die of a blistering fever, I thought that if I was just 'obedient enough', they would finally love me.
But as I lay dying on that cold concrete floor, something inside me broke forever.
When I finally woke up, I couldn't speak. I couldn't smile. I couldn't even stomach the sight of them. I no longer wanted their affection, their toys, or their love.
And ironically, the exact moment I stopped caring if I existed to them at all... was the moment my cold-blooded father and ruthless brothers fell to their knees in tears, desperately ready to give me the world just to hear me call them family one more time.

When I woke up, I was locked at a round table, surrounded by four strangers.

A masked clown said: "Tonight there are only four gifts. The extra person... who could it be?"

The clown invited us to play a game.

The rules were simple—Liar's Poker.

Liars die. Those successfully challenged also die.

In the first round, the tattooed brute beside me lost and was dragged into the "Meat Grinder Ferris Wheel."

I heard the sound of his bones being crushed by gears.

The clown wiped blood from his hands, laughing: "Children who lie must be punished, you know~"

"Did you enjoy the game Penny prepared for you all?"

The moment he uttered "Penny's" name, everyone's faces broke out in cold sweat, because she had been dead for three years.

And everyone present... including me...

Remembered clearly.

My godfather father fell gravely ill and passed the position of Don ahead of time to my fiancé Chris, whom I had not seen for two years.
But he did not fulfill his promise to marry me once I returned home, claiming instead that he would marry my half-sister Lily.
“Sophie has lost sight in her right eye. She is no longer fit to be the Don’s wife.”
“With Sophie’s dull temperament, what does she have besides the surname Rossi? If it weren’t for that position—”
So the feelings of all these years, the eye I lost, the suffering I endured in Sicily—none of it meant anything.
I was nothing more than a stepping stone for him to become the new Don.