4426 Book(s) Related to BROKEN (My bestie and I)

Melanie Sinclair is a scholarship student in one of the most influential schools for werewolves. Having been bullied her whole life for not having a wolf, she suffers the same fate at Dalderia High School. After getting rejected by her crush, the son of the alpha king, and being publicly humiliated in school, she accidentally mates with his identical twin brother that same day.

Having her eyes already set on his brother, she tries all she can to break the mating bond; all it takes is to make the person she loves fall for her as well, and the bond would be broken.

Does she succeed in making her crush fall for her to break the bond?

Or will unexpected feelings grow for his brother instead?

Madam, your fetus is perfectly healthy, and all indicators are completely normal," Dr. Helena said with a smile as she looked at the image on the ultrasound machine.
"Really?" Emily slowly sat up on the hospital bed. She glanced down at her slightly swollen belly, gently placed her fingertips over it, and a look of worry crossed her face.
This was her second child. Her first pregnancy had also gone perfectly at every prenatal check-up, yet in the end…
"Everything is stable for now," Dr. Helena comforted her. "Rest assured, what happened last time was just an accident. Take good care of yourself this time, and come to the hospital right away if anything feels wrong."
The moment Emily thought of her first baby, a dull ache welled up in her heart.
It had been a baby boy.
Both of her children with her husband Watson were conceived through IVF.
When the first pregnancy succeeded, she had been overjoyed. She prepared the nursery, bought tiny baby clothes, and even started thinking of names.
But shortly after the baby was born, it passed away.

On the 26th of my birthday, my true love gave me divorce papers and a broken heart.
One meant to wound. One meant to finish me.

Life has a way of giving gifts that are both unexpected and profound.
If the people you love the most can hurt you this deeply, then perhaps it is only fair to return the gesture, quietly and carefully.

This is a thick and cruel world.
But I am still here.
And some gifts are returned with interest — Bianca Winter.


“Please, Bianca,” Charles Warren begged, crying on his knees. “Give me a chance. Give us another chance.”
“Dear ex,” Bianca Winter replied coldly, “I would have to be blind to walk your way again and even blindness wouldn’t excuse that mistake. You already showed me the darkness, Mr Warren, and I will not step back into the shadows.”
With no trace of remorse, Bianca turned and walked away with her head held high.

Arielle's life changed when her mother's debt forced her into a loveless marriage with billionaire Raymond Tristian. She planned to endure one year of marriage, and he would settle her mother's debts. But Arielle had a secret - a precious four-year-old daughter, Crystal born from a past love that went sour.

As the days turned into months, Arielle found herself drawn to Raymond's charismatic presence and unexpected kindness. Despite their initial understanding, she began to question her decision to divorce him after a year. Her past love was lurking in the corner.

Just as Arielle's feelings for Raymond deepened, Raymond first love came into the picture, pregnant for Raymond.
How would Arielle navigate the emotions entangling her relationship with Raymond and her past lover? Read to find out.

Ronan Blackthorne gets the same coffee every morning. Black, no sugar. From the same girl who doesn't even know he's worth billions. Annabelle thinks he's just another suit with good tips and a nice smile. She has no clue he owns half of Manhattan.

Here's the thing though, Ronan's got a problem. His dead father just screwed him over big time. Turns out daddy had a secret daughter somewhere, and she owns 35% of everything Ronan thought was his. Now he's hunting this mystery girl down because his psychotic mother Victoria won't shut up about finding her and making the problem disappear.

The barista he's falling for is the girl he's looking for.

On the day Lilly expected to become Luna, her fated mate,the newly crowned Alpha King, publicly rejected her and chose her wealthy best friend, who carried his child. When that same friend falsely accuses Lilly of attempting to kill the royal heir, Lilly is sentenced to death and abandoned by everyone she loves.
Saved by her father’s final act of treason, Lilly flees into exile and discovers a truth hidden for centuries: she is the last descendant of the legendary Silver Lycan King, the rightful heir to a stolen throne.
As an ancient enemy rises once more to threaten all wolfkind, Lilly awakens powers long thought extinct and gathers rogues, mercenaries, and outcasts beneath her banner. To save her people, she must reclaim her crown, unite the fractured kingdoms that betrayed her, and become the queen destiny intended her to be.

When Chrissy agrees to go camping with her new, hot boyfriend, she never imagined she'd be roughing it under the stars, or that she'd get lost.
When Luther, the werewolf, went for a run in a summer storm, he never expected to get pinned under a tree and rescued by a curvy, slightly crazy version of a brunette Barbie.

Now Chrissy thinks Luther is her new 'puppy',
Luther's new name is Fluffy,
And back in the city, the pack is about to have the laugh of their lives.

But try as he might, Luther can't seem to bring himself to leave her, and Chrissy could never known that there was an underground battle in Seattle for who would get to claim the city as their pack's territory.

“Well, now you’re a widow,” he said, smearing the blood of the man I had just married across my face before pulling his hand away. “What a pity. I am going to make you my mistress too",

“And nobody runs from me, mate.”

He was the stranger who saved her that night.

She never saw his face.

She never learned his name.

But she never forgot the kiss.

After losing her job and discovering her fiancé in bed with another woman, Emma Brooks leaves Los Angeles with a broken heart and one goal: start over.

She moves to her grandmother’s small town, expecting peace and a fresh beginning.

Instead, she meets Ryder Kane.

The arrogant biker is everything she can't stand. Reckless, infuriating, and far too good at getting under her skin. Their first encounter ends badly. Their next one is worse.

Yet somehow, Ryder keeps showing up whenever Emma needs him.

And despite her better judgment, she begins falling for the man she swore she would never want.

But Ryder has secrets.

Secrets that connect him to the mysterious stranger from Emma's past.

Secrets that could tear apart everything she believes about her family.

And when Emma finally discovers the truth, she will have to face the one question she never expected to ask:

Can she love the man who saved her... when he may also be the man who destroyed her life?

Blurb:

“Now honey, what was that about earlier?” Mom demands after a beat, her voice even. Controlled. Measured. Like she's always been.

I look at her. At her copperry red hair much like my own, conflicted. And my eyes water.

It's about how I can still feel Grayson's touch on my skin mum. How his tongue has done things to me. Things too unholy to describe.

About how the scent of him—the mere thought of him—makes me heady.

And now, you’re marrying his father?

Grayson's bad news for goddess’ sake!

I want to tell her all that, but I don't.

I Can't.

“You didn't even stop to think about it,” I say instead, not liking the crack in my voice at the end.

“Probably because there was nothing to think about,” mother shrugs, frowning in concern. “What is this really about Ginny?”

Ginny. The five letter syllable that somehow sounds so different—sinfully different—when he says it.

“You've been acting weird ever since I mentioned coming back.. Is there something I should know?” she probes.

And then..

Her face grows pale.


Ours is a story that was never meant to be written.

A broken symphony, A perfect imagery with cracks.

He was my living torment, I was his subject. His prey. His Forbidden fruit.

We weren't meant to love. To feel so deeply. To Burn.

But we did anyways.

And the inferno we created?

Blew out of proportion.

Destroying everything we once thought we knew.

Again, we weren't meant to love,

But our story was a destructive force of nature,

Bound by soul-ties that could not be denied.

Betrayed by her fated mate and left shattered, June is banished—wolf broken, heart in pieces. But when the ruthless Shadow Alpha Cassian drags her from the darkness, one scorching touch ignites everything.
His massive body pins her to the wall, thick cock grinding against her dripping heat as he growls, “Mine.” Every filthy lick, every possessive thrust chases away her pain, turning agony into raw, screaming pleasure.
Yet her treacherous past is coming—sister and ex hunting her down.
Will Cassian claim her completely, burying himself so deep she forgets every other man… or will the old bond tear her apart mid moans?

"You lost, Beauty. And now, your body, your pleasure, your surrender… all of it belongs to me."
★★★
Beauty thought her graduation trip would end with a proposal. Instead, it ended with heartbreak. On the eve of their travel, she caught her boyfriend in bed with her cousin. Betrayed and humiliated, she refused to waste her money on the hotel reservation… so she went alone.

But fate had other plans.

What began as a reckless attempt to drown her pain spiraled into a night she would never forget. A stranger walked into her room, catching her in her most vulnerable moment. Tall, powerful, and devastatingly handsome, Marcello… And when a mix-up forced them to share the room, one game of poker turned into stripping away more than just cards.

He was temptation wrapped in a tailored suit, his smirk promising danger she couldn’t resist. She gave in for one night, leaving her number with trembling hope.

Until she walked into her new job interview… and found him sitting behind the desk. Her new boss.

Now trapped between lust and pride, Beauty must decide if she can resist the billionaire devil who already claimed her once… or if she’ll fall into his arms all over again.

Sienna Cole has the perfect life.

She is the girl everyone watches and nobody really knows and she has worked very hard to keep it that way.

Until Jax Reeves walks into Westfield High, He doesn't talk much neither does he even try to impress anyone. And he looks at Sienna like he can see every single thing she is hiding behind her perfect smile.

She is not interested. She says so loudly. Multiple times. To anyone who will listen.

So when her best friend Chloe asks permission to pursue him, Sienna says yes without blinking.

It is the worst decision she has ever made.

Because the moment she watches Jax look at Chloe the way Sienna secretly wanted him to look at her, something inside her snaps clean in half. Now she is lying to her boyfriend, sabotaging her best friend's relationship, and slowly falling apart in front of the only six people in the world she truly loves.

The question is will Sienna finally tell the truth before she loses everything?

She felt that he was upset so she walked over to him, but didn’t know what to do.

Jack took out the stuff inside the document folder and put it in front of Stephanie. He read, "I have asked someone to check. The baby in your belly…”

He paused on purpose and looked at her meaningfully. Catching a flash of joy in her eyes, he sneered in his heart but maintained his poker face.

"The baby’s father is Steve. DNA Comparison shows 99% match.” He finished his sentence.

The face in front of him turned pale gradually. Stephanie lifted her head and laughed as if just heard a joke. "This is impossible. I didn’t…”

Jack interrupted her without any hesitation and explained indifferently, "Oh, yes. I kept his sperm and arranged an operation for you.”

"No…That’s not possible.” She lost her voice and covered her belly with her hands. Jack, however, didn’t waver and tossed the document to her.

Stephanie took the document with her trembling hands. She examined the data carefully, trying to prove it’s fake.

After a while, she raised her head and looked at him in a forced smile. "It…it’s all fake, right? Tell me this is a joke, please…I know, this… ”

Jack remained indifferent. He looked at her mercilessly and said, "You owe him a life. The baby is the compensation.”

Mara Vale knew how to save ruined things.

Rotten silk. Smoke-stained lace. Wedding gowns torn by jealous hands or careless lovers. In the old brick shop her mother had left her, Mara could lift a century of dirt from a veil and make every hidden stitch disappear.

But on the night of her own wedding, there was nothing she could save.

Her fiance was in the hotel bridal suite with her stepsister. Her father called her ungrateful when she refused to smile through the betrayal. By midnight, Mara had lost her groom, her family, and the deed to the shop that carried her mother's name.

Then rain drove her into a garage on the wrong side of downtown, where a dangerous young mechanic caught her before she hit the concrete.

Dante Cross smelled like motor oil, wore a dirty white tank under his coveralls, and looked at Mara as if he had been waiting eight years to find her.

Everyone thought he was poor.

Everyone was wrong.

And when Mara's enemies dragged her onto a livestream and called her a thief in front of fifty thousand strangers, the man from the garage stepped between her and the slap meant to break her.

He did not ask permission.

He simply said, "Touch her again, and find out who owns this street."

I was reborn twelve hours before the anomaly occurred.

In my previous life, I died tragically in a sea of fire, unable to even protect my three-year-old daughter.

In this life, I returned from hell with the "Shadow" that rules the abyss, only to discover that the only antidote to ending the wasteland lies in my daughter's palm.

Her ex-wife, who was possessed by a monster, the greedy military, and even "myself" who went mad across parallel universes all tried to tear her apart and suck her blood.

You want to harm my daughter? Fine. Then let's see if you can withstand this all-consuming polar night!

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

I was bought into this world. For twenty-three years, my adoptive mother swept floors, scrubbed toilets, and endured endless orders from others just to keep me alive. Then one day, I discovered she had been depositing forty-four thousand dollars into an overseas account every single year for two decades. They called it a "custody fee". When a mysterious organization showed up, slammed coins in her face and threw a contract written in blood right in front of me, I finally learned whose blood runs through my veins. From that day on, I will prove to everyone: no one shall ever hurt my family.

The day my husband gave me a five-carat diamond ring, his mistress spotted it on my hand. Wearing the exact same ring, she accused me of stealing her man. Before I could explain, she and her bridesmaids beat me to death.   My husband shielded her from the law and married her before I was even buried. My mother-in-law embraced her simply for being pregnant.   Then I opened my eyes on the day I received that ring.   This time, I slipped it onto my mother-in-law's finger.

"What gives a scarred freak like you the right to stand next to him?"
Four years ago, a brutal attack left a hideous burn scar across the left side of my face. Ever since, I've hidden behind a black mask, fading into the darkest corners of St. Oak High. I thought if I just stayed perfectly invisible, I could survive high school in peace.
Then Michael came back.
He's the President of Model UN, an Ivy-League-bound genius, and the golden boy everyone revolves around. And me? I’m just a damaged outcast too terrified to show my own face.
The harder I pushed him away, the closer he got.
But when a video from four years ago surfaces—showing him throwing a punch just to defend me—his flawless future is suddenly on the line. That's when I knew I couldn't hide in the shadows anymore.
This time, even if it means exposing my ugliest scars to the harsh light of day, I will do whatever it takes to protect him.

Seven years ago, Alpha Matthew's fiancée Elvira ran off with another alpha. I was just his assistant back then, harboring a secret crush but never imagining we could be together.

That night I picked him up from the bar. He was drunk and had been drugged. One night later I was pregnant, and Matthew became convinced I was the one who drugged him, that I'd schemed my way into becoming his luna. He hated me, but still gave me the title of secret mate. No mating ceremony, just a contract. My son and I lived in the guest wing of his estate for seven years.

Last night he drunkenly spun Liam around in circles. My son thought he was finally being accepted. But I heard the name Matthew was murmuring—Elvira. She was coming back, with her son.

I held my transfer request to the Eastern Region. This time, we're done waiting.

Nobody would believe that I, Sienna, the glamorous CEO's wife in the eyes of outsiders, couldn't even scrape together two decent outfits in my closet after three years of marriage.   And no one knew that every single cent I spent in private—from my brother's life-saving medical bills down to a pack of tampons—had to go through my husband's childhood sweetheart and personal assistant via a so-called corporate expense approval system.   I lived like a beggar, groveling for scraps under his assistant's watchful eye.   It wasn't until my critically ill brother's life-saving funds were maliciously rejected, turning my only remaining soft spot in this world to ashes, that this absurd marriage finally came to an end.

A 250-pound girl stole my body.

Over the phone, she cackled triumphantly, "Your flawless face, your wealth... it's all mine now!"

I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the heavy layers of fat that used to be hers. I didn't scream. I didn't beg for it back.

Instead, I hung up the phone, let out a long breath of relief, and just started laughing.

She thought she had stolen the glamorous, perfect life of a Hollywood socialite.

But she had no idea that in just a few hours, the severe drug withdrawals in that body would hit. She didn’t know that my cold-blooded mother would soon be standing over her with a loaded syringe, and a greasy, powerful producer was waiting in a penthouse bed to pin her down.

Since she wanted my life so desperately...

Let her walk through the gates of hell herself.

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

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

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

Until I checked the camera feed in my own bedroom.

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

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

I spent fifteen years taking beatings in the Bronx hellhole — beatings meant for my mother.
She's a Manhattan heiress now. Chanel suits, a daughter on her arm, and eyes full of disgust whenever they land on my hollowed-out frame.
"You're just like your disgusting father. A sewer rat. You've always reeked of something rotten."
What she doesn't know: on that rainy night fifteen years ago, I wrapped my arms around that man's legs and let him kick me half to death, so she could run.
What she also doesn't know: the tumor in my stomach has spread. I won't survive the winter.
I'd made my peace with dying alone, quietly, so I wouldn't disturb the perfect life she'd built. I swallowed the blood rising in my throat and started walking toward the dark.
Then came the dinner party, a few months later. Her daughter shoved me off a second-floor balcony.
I hit the ground at her feet like a broken doll. Dark red blood flooded across her white heels.
I watched the color drain from her face. With the last breath I had, I apologized.
"Don't be scared. This piece of garbage won't dirty your eyes anymore."

The day college decisions came out, my parents bought my twin sister a Porsche.
It was my eighteenth birthday too. Nobody brought it up. I stood in the doorway in my diner uniform while the whole room sang her name.
That night the four of them went out to dinner to celebrate her. The car only sat four, so my father handed me a hundred dollars and told me to order myself something at home.
Four days later, six thousand four hundred dollars vanished from my account. Two years of washing dishes, gone to her sorority dues. My mother's name was on the account, so it wasn't even illegal.
I didn't scream and I didn't beg. I went upstairs and clicked Accept on the full ride to MIT that had been sitting in my inbox for three days.
Nobody in that house ever wanted me. So I booked a one-way ticket, cut myself out of the family photo, and left my key on the shoe rack.
I wasn't coming back. Not for graduation. Not for any of them.

I inherited my mother’s breathtaking beauty, while my sister was cursed with our father’s plain, vulgar looks.
Consumed by jealousy, she married early and settled into a mundane life, while I was kept entirely imprisoned by our mother—forbidden to date, forbidden to marry.
Whenever I brought a boyfriend home, my mother would take him into that mysterious locked bathroom.
Every single man who walked out of there would have glazed eyes and a flushed look of utter ecstasy. Then, without fail, they would coldly abandon me. Even the man who swore to marry me completely succumbed—to the point where he was having sex with my mother in the garden in broad daylight!
What’s even more bizarre is that whenever any female relative stepped into that bathroom, they came out looking at me with vicious hatred, joining forces to spit on me.
Betrayed by everyone and pushed to the brink, I decided to flee this demonic house in the dead of night.
But the moment I peeked through the crack of the door and finally caught a glimpse inside that bathroom, the blood in my veins turned to ice.
Only then did I horrifyingly realize the true reason my mother was willing to destroy my entire life...

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

I was dragged to the stand of the MRI Memory Court by my own flesh and blood.

Their demand? To forcibly extract my kidney to keep their uremic adopted daughter alive.

A guilty verdict meant losing not just my bodily autonomy, but my freedom for the rest of my life.

Bathed in the global spotlight, my parents performed as tragic heroes, while their adopted saint cried a river of deceit.

They thought they had cornered the perfect victim, waiting for the world to send me to the slaughter.

But the moment the memory holograms ignited and reality bled through, the hunters instantly became the hunted.

I am Nerissa Calvino, the illegitimate daughter of the Vespucci mafia family—a stain on their pristine name.
All I ever wanted was a quiet life, spent in the arms of Carmine, a simple doctor. But my half-sister, Renata, fell terminally ill and was declared infertile. To preserve the alliance between the Vespucci and Arcuri families, a filthy transaction was struck: I was to be the surrogate for Renata’s fiancé, Silvano, bearing the heir that would bind their syndicates together.
They threatened Carmine’s life. To save him, I had to spit venom, shredding our love to pieces with my own hands.
In public, Silvano was the perfect, doting fiancé to my sister. But in the dark, he locked me away, claiming my body with ruthless gravity.
When news of my pregnancy broke, the entire estate rejoiced. Only I remained trapped in a living nightmare.
Torn between a past I couldn’t return to and a forbidden entanglement I couldn't escape, I wondered: would I ever reclaim my own life?

On the third day after my death, Massimo got the call.
His arm was around another woman. He didn't even flinch.
"Dead is dead," he said. "Burn her, then call me."
He came to the crematorium two hours late. He took my ashes, dropped them on the floor, and stepped on them like they were dirt.
"Tell Tess," he said, "if she's still alive, she can crawl back and beg. If she's really dead, I'll dig her up and flog the corpse myself."
I was right there, screaming without a voice.
Later, he pulled out his phone and called my number. It went straight to voicemail.
"Tess Reinhardt," he said, his jaw tight. "If you don't pick up, you're dead to me."
He still didn't know.
I was already dead.
And he was the only one who would never believe it.

When my Alpha told me a rogue faction was going to destroy our Pack, I volunteered as a hostage to keep him safe.
Three years in a cage. Branded with silver. Broken like a feral. Every rogue in that compound had me. The only thing that kept me alive was a toxic root that numbed the pain — and was slowly killing me from the inside.
Then my Alpha showed up and told me the truth.
There was never any threat. He'd staged the whole thing — hired the rogues, built the compound. Because I'd embarrassed his precious Cora in front of the Pack, and he needed me to "learn my place."
Now he wanted me back. Wanted to make me his Luna again.
But I wasn't the same woman who walked into that cage. And the truth about what happened to me there?
He didn't believe a word of it.
Not until I was already dead.

"911, what's your emergency?"
"I'm... handcuffed to a towel rack." Humiliation nearly swallowed me whole.
Fifteen minutes later, LAFD kicked down my door—and the man standing in the wreckage was the last person on earth I wanted to see me like this.
Leon Crawford. My ex. The one I broke up with three years ago.
He didn't cut me loose. He circled my apartment like a predator, his jaw tightening with every wine glass, every stray jacket he found.
"Where's the guy who did this to you?" he growled.
There was no guy. But how do I explain the lie I told him three years ago—that I'd fallen for someone else?

There's a heavy iron door at the end of the hall. Anyone who steps inside returns with eyes full of hatred. That’s all it took for the basement to turn my gentle fiancé into a predator and my loyal best friend into an enemy. Now, I'm trapped with a mother who claims the violence is all in my head. I have to open that door.

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?

I loved Julian for ten years, carving every sweat-stained day into my love for him.
He once said I shined brighter than any gold medal.
Yet in five short minutes, he handed my dream, my glory, and my whole world to a scheming transfer girl.
Betrayed, discarded, and broken on the fencing strip, I lost my first love and everything I fought for.
Until the retired cold Olympic champion stepped out of the dark midnight shadows.
He offered me hellish training and a sharp blade of revenge.
I buried my soft heart, handed over my soul, and vowed to make every traitor pay.

Ninety-nine times.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oscar winner Adrian Pierce announced his divorce at midnight.

Hours later, his ex-wife ended a ten-thousand-word farewell with one line for me:

Claire Sutton, you won.

Adrian is yours.

By breakfast, half the internet wanted to know why I'd destroyed their marriage.

I wanted to know, too.

After all, I'd been secretly married for eight years.

Why would I want her ex-husband?

In my first life, my fiancé helped his sister frame me for a fatal hit-and-run.

I went to prison, my mother died begging for my freedom, and the lawyer who tried to save me lost everything.

When I woke up on the afternoon of the crash, I didn't run from the police.

I made sure they arrested me first.

The day I presented as an omega, I caught my boyfriend cheating.
Then my first heat hit early.
With no suppressants left, I had only one person to ask for help: Adrian Holt—my infuriatingly perfect alpha roommate.
“Do you have a suppressant?”
Adrian glanced at my tear-streaked face.
“Actually,” he said slowly, “I’m out.”
Desperate, I made him an offer neither of us could take back.
“Then bite me. Just a temporary mark.”
What I didn’t know was that Adrian had plenty of suppressants.
And nothing about the way he wanted me was temporary.

My long-lost twin sister has returned.
The first thing she did was demand to marry my fiancé.
Jayden, murmuring apologies, held her close as they walked into the city hall.
My family urged me to be generous, saying, "After all she’s been through, you owe her this much. You've had a good life all these years—why not let her have this?"
Until the day of their wedding, no one could find me.
But what they didn't know was that my body had been drifting at sea for over ten days.

I thought I was the Jones family's "legitimate wife."
Until the day I saw it with my own eyes, my husband, Carter, resting his hand on my stepsister Nora's bump belly, gentle like he was cradling the future.
Everyone told me to be "big-heated": when the baby was born, they'd put it under my name, make him call me Mom, because the family needed an "heir."
Even the private doctor they hired announced it in front of everyone—steady heartbeat, and from the ultrasound, it looked like a boy.
I didn't cry and didn't make a scene.
I just picked up the phone and told my lawyer to initiate the divestment.
Twenty-four hours later, Carter's cards were frozen, his projects got their loans yanked, and assets started getting seized—
That's when he finally understood: he hadn't betrayed a wife.
He'd betrayed the lifeline of the entire family.
But what I really wanted to know was—
When he dropped to his knees and begged me to come back, would I tell him— I had already picked out his grave?

Hiding my identity and marrying an ambitious female celebrity—this is the most boring social experiment I've ever done.
She wants me to leave with nothing.
She gave my family heirloom to that gigolo.
She tweeted that I was "low-class trash".
She didn't know that Hollywood, which she was desperately trying to climb up to, was nothing more than my backyard.
She had no idea that those capitalists she fawned over would all bow down and call me "Mr. Rockwell."
Until that night, she stripped naked, attempting to offer herself to the enigmatic "godfather of capital"—
The leather sofa slowly turned around.
The lights were on.
She saw my face.
“Chloe,” I flicked my cigar ash, “what brings you here?”

"I need to bear my sworn brother a child first."

At our engagement ceremony, my wife took her sworn brother's hand.

"Brother has been so good to me—he even sacrificed his fertility to protect me. This is my way of repaying him."

So they made me wait three years.

When those three years ended, they still thought I'd be the same as before—obeying their every command like a loyal dog.

What she didn't know was this:

I am the Supreme Wolf King.

Everything her family possessed—I gave it to them.

Now, I'm taking it all back.

The day manager Gregg shoved me into the freight elevator shaft, the nuclear winter outside had only just begun. As he slammed the gate shut, he said, "No one will find you dead down there; the insurance payout is enough to cover the shortfall." I died in the darkness at thirty degrees below zero. Then, I woke up. I was back on the afternoon he threw the contract in my face. This time, I didn't sign. I shoved the contract into the paper shredder, snatched the brass key ring from Supervisor Miller, locked every exit of the warehouse, and re-routed the entire building's heating system into my own command bunker. As Gregg licked ice off the frozen floor on the security monitor, I was sitting in the guard room, heating up a can of pork. Outside, the first snowflake fell. And this time, the ones who would be freezing to death were them.

Brent Hale gave me one night to save the company’s worst-performing livestream—or lose my job with everyone else in Studio Three.
I wanted the severance package.
So I ignored the script, exposed every product flaw, and told viewers exactly what not to buy.
By the time my boss tried to cut the feed, the chat was threatening to riot—and half our inventory was already gone.

Hayley Davis has everything she could ever want in life- money, a loving father and an established law career.
But there is one thing she wants that she knows she can never have- Jake Ryker, her father's best friend.

Since the first day she met him, she has wanted him and she knows he wants her too.
It is a filthy desire, one she has no business having but Hayley has never been one to take no for an answer and she will get Jake but at what cost?

NOTE: THIS BOOK IS SMUTTY, PROCEED WITH CAUTION