4981 Book(s) Related to after my death i became a genius

My name is Dafu, I am a dog, and I can smell death.

Sweet, cloying spores and a metallic, fishy stench seeped in through the cracks in the door.
The owner's friend was crying and calling for help outside the door , but all I could hear from my nostrils was the gurgling of mucus and the rustling of fungal hyphae climbing—
The person outside had no heartbeat.

The owner ultimately decided to open the door and rescue the person .
no!

I bit his hand tightly , my eyes pleading desperately—
Master, trust me !
That thing outside the door! It's not a person at all!

The first time I met my best friend's older brother, he kissed me in a dark kitchen and scared me half to death.
Mia Cross and I had been inseparable since freshman orientation. I knew her coffee order, her worst ex's middle name, and exactly how long she could study before she started sending me videos of baby goats. I also knew she had an older brother, Adrian, but for almost three years he had existed only as a family legend.
He managed a major division of the Cross family's investment firm, spent most of his time overseas, and was apparently terrifying enough that Mia lowered her voice whenever she complained about him.
"He's coming home for good," she told me one Friday night as we sprawled across her bed. "Mom says he finally moved the last of his projects back."
"The tyrant returns."
"Exactly. Just a heads-up: don't poke the bear."

Six months after our bonding ceremony, I was ambushed by rogue wolves while searching for rare herbs in the Black Forest.
Their poisoned claws shredded my abdomen—and with it, any chance of ever carrying pups.
But my mate held my hand and wept. My mother swore she'd save me. My father said everything would be fine.
How pathetic—
Right before they wheeled me into surgery, I heard them through a cracked door, calmly discussing how to harvest my heart for the adopted sister who'd been waiting six months.
Turns out the "accident" was a gift from my loving family of four.
Turns out the last six months of "coming home" was just them fattening up my heart for harvest.
What they don't know? The voice memo on my phone caught everything.
What they really don't know? Six months from now, I'm coming back—
With a Dark Moon Alliance badge. And a heart much colder than the one they stole.
Shh. Listen.
That stolen heart? It's starting to reject.

In my previous life, I gave the SS-class Furnace Fortress to my sister, and she turned around and stabbed me in the back.
After being reborn, she wanted to take my forest . I smiled and said, "Fine, it's all yours."
This time, I chose the SS-class Forge Fortress.
And I want her to die crying in the yellow sand.

The man who turned me down is now dating my roommate.

I swore I’d never see him again until a hospital emergency forces us into the same room. Every quiet look tells me his rejection wasn‘t the whole story.

He’s supposed to be off-limits. He‘s hers. But the more I try to move on, the more he looks at me like I’m still his.

Can I resist the man who rejected me first or will the truth change everything?

The first time the system appeared, I thought it was a scam.
One wish per day, it said. Anything I wanted.
So I tested it with a hundred dollars.
That night, my mother handed me one bill. Then she smiled and told me she had bought my stepsister Mia a jacket worth two hundred.
That was when fifteen years of “coincidences” turned into math.
Every wish I had ever made came true.
And every time, Mia got double.
Toys. Shoes. Rooms. Phones. Love.
For years, I thought I was the daughter who was harder to love.
Then I realized the universe had been listening to me all along.
And for the first time, I wondered what would happen if I wished for something cruel.

Seven years ago, Ronan Blackwood—Alpha of the Beastman Clan—endured 999 lashes and defied the Council's exile to bond with me, a human.

He swore before the gods I'd be his only mate, forever.

But when his childhood sweetheart Camilla was diagnosed with terminal cancer, he dissolved our soul-bond at the Underground Court.

Then he handed me a glowing vial—the Seven-Day Oblivion.

"Sia, I need seven days to give Camilla a proper bonding ceremony before she dies. This potion will make you forget me temporarily. No pain, no memories. After the ceremony, you'll take the antidote and love me again. Then we'll re-bond."

He promised this separation was temporary. That I'd still be his only true mate.

What he didn't know: the potion was forbidden. There was no antidote.

I stared into those amber eyes that once bled for me—and swallowed it anyway.

In seven days, I'll forget him completely.

The day the promotion list went public, a photo popped up in the company's all-staff Slack channel.
In the photo, my profile nearly overlapped with a scantily dressed girl, the background a dimly lit Manhattan nightclub.
Immediately after, Brad added a caption:
[No wonder Harper landed Richard's M&A deal. Last night's 'overtime' must have been rough, huh?]
Less than ten seconds after he sent it, the message still hung there in the channel. No retraction.
The chat that had just been flooding with "congrats Harper" messages went dead silent.
In my past life, my head buzzed. I thought no one would take such a cheap joke seriously.
But within two days, the company's internal anonymous forum exploded with accusations, complete with photos and "proof."
They said I slept with clients to win the merger deal. That I secured my full-time offer by sleeping my way up. That my personal life was a mess, that I was trash.
My mother collapsed from a heart attack when she heard. She never woke up.
Later, my promotion was revoked. HR suspended me for "damaging company reputation."
I was slut-shamed, radioactive across the entire finance industry — no firm on the Street would touch me.
Within a month, I spiraled from depression to sleepless nights, and finally jumped from the rooftop of my Brooklyn apartment.
Before I lost consciousness, my phone was still buzzing.
"Did they fire her yet? People like that don't belong on Wall Street."
When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at the blinking Slack messages on my screen.

In order to raise the surgical fees for my "blind" boyfriend, I dedicated three entire years to scrubbing toilets.

I believed I was his eyes, the sole beacon of light in his world of darkness.

Until his birthday arrived, I was confronted with the sight of that "incapable" man—who required my assistance even to drink water—coddling his ex-girlfriend while flirting.

"That fool is still busy cleaning toilets," he chuckled with a patronizing grin, brandishing my late mother's memento to charm that woman. "After all, she outshone you at Parsons. Let her serve me like a dog for three years—that'll be her punishment."

It dawned on me that my sacrifices were but fodder for their idle amusement.

Drying my tears, I turned and dialed the number I had blocked for three years—the one belonging to the fiancé who controlled an entire business empire.

"Sebastian, about that arranged marriage... I accept."

My pack's golden girl—my adopted sister—vanished. On my eighteenth birthday—the day my wolf should have awakened—my parents dragged me to a witch.
"Show us what you did to her."
Fine. Let them look.
Let them see who drugged me the day I came home. Who stole credit while I bled. Who smiled while planning my destruction.
They chose their precious Rosalie over me for three years.
They wanted the truth?
They were about to choke on it.

To buy the sky-high-price cake for my blind piano prodigy girlfriend, I swallowed my pride and scrubbed toilets for three months.
But returning home early with the cake, I found her, who was supposed to be groping in the dark, entangled with her rich ex-boyfriend.
Her eyes were clear, and her face was full of sneering mockery: "Isn't letting this design genius serve me like a dog for three years the perfect punishment for him always outshining you?"
I stood in the chilly wind outside the door. So, the deep affection and despair of these three years were all just an act she put on to please her ex.
Calmly, I threw the cake box into the trash. I pulled out my phone and sent a text to the number I had blocked for three years:
"Cecilia, I accept your marriage proposal."

The boy I grew up with was this town's star quarterback.

Everyone saw him as the golden boy.

Yet, for a delinquent, he willingly threw away his athletic career and plunged headfirst into the local drug ring.

Desperate to pull him back from the edge, I tipped off the police about the drug den, hoping it would be his wake-up call.

Instead, he hated me to the bone for it.

To prove his loyalty to his "true love"—and to punish me—he gave our home security code to a crew of methed-up thugs.

They broke in and put a bullet through my parents' heads, wiping out my entire family.

It wasn't until I took a bullet to the chest and lay choking on my own blood, staring at a mocking text from him, that I finally woke up.

But fate, it turns out, decided to give me a second chance.

I loved Damien for ten years. Ten years, right up until the moment he took the heart that was supposed to save our daughter and gave it to someone else's child.

Lily was only seven. She was terrified of the dark, terrified of pain. She never got that heart. She just faded, right there in that hospital bed.

And Damien was down the hall, celebrating someone else's miracle.

He had no idea what I was holding when he finally came home. He had no idea my stomach cancer had already hit the final stage.

There was nothing left in this world worth staying for.

So this time, I didn't yell. I didn't cry.

I just slid the divorce papers across the table.

He thought I was bluffing.

But this time, I had nothing left to lose.

"Camille! Get over here!" my husband Arthur screamed, clutching his mistress tightly in his arms.
In my past life, he charged into the flames to save her—while I burned alive trying to save him.
The moment I died, he wasted no time using my life insurance money to throw her the wedding of the century, right at my family's winery.
This life?
"I'm going to get help," I said, and walked away.
Behind me, something massive came crashing down. His scream tore through the smoke.
I didn't look back.

The fake heiress and I died twice fighting over the same thing—which of us would get adopted by that wealthy couple.

The first time, I got the necklace. I became their daughter. I thought I'd finally have everything I'd ever wanted. Three months later, they drowned me in the bathtub.

William's voice still echoes in my head. "This is your fault! If we'd taken Chloe instead, she'd still be alive!"

The second time, I gave Chloe the necklace. Let her have the good life. I thought that would keep me safe.

Five years later, Chloe turned up dead in their mansion. The Harringtons called the cops on me. They said I broke in and killed her out of jealousy. I died in prison, broken and tortured. The last thing I heard was Catherine's voice through the visiting room glass, cold as ice. "You belong in the gutter."

The third time, I open my eyes again.

I watch the couple smile at us, all warmth and kindness, and one question burns in my mind. Which daughter do they actually want?

The smell of antiseptic, the sharp sting of restraints biting into my flesh, and the pitying look on Silas's face as he stood by my hospital bed.
"Maeve, you're so sick. The baby is just a hallucination."
In my last life, consumed by despair and self-doubt, I threw myself off the roof of the psychiatric hospital.
But now, my eyes snapped open, my hands instinctively flying to protect my stomach.
My baby is still here!
I'm back—exactly one week before my child disappeared.

On our wedding night, my husband wanted to play a game.
Trade secrets. The kind that could destroy you if they ever got out.
He went first.
"I hurt a girl once. At a ski lodge. She shouldn't have been in that room. But she was."
He said it like a parking ticket. Then he took a sip of whiskey and moved on.
My turn.
"I killed someone," I said. "Do you believe me?"
He laughed. He thought I was joking.
He really shouldn't have kissed me after that.

In my past life, I was pregnant and met a gruesome end, torn apart by the mad dog my cop husband kept, taking both my life and my baby's.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I discovered I was pregnant.
My seemingly perfect husband, the epitome of a good man, smiled as he brought me muffins laced with rat poison. My seemingly kind in-laws watched me intently, eager for me to swallow the deadly treat...
That's when it hit me: the perfect marriage I thought I had was actually a family conspiracy for murder!
This time, I refuse to be the lamb led to slaughter. If you want my life and my child's, then you'll all be begging for mercy in hell!

I stumbled out of the Moonlit Forest covered in blood, but Magnus didn’t even look at me. He rushed straight to Jasper instead.
I clutched the blood-soaked rope, struggling to catch my breath.
“I almost didn’t make it out alive...”
Magnus whipped around, his eyes turning ice-cold.
“Stop playing the victim! If you hadn’t wasted so much time, Jasper wouldn’t have been hurt this badly!”
Before I could answer, Willa collapsed into his arms, sobbing.
“Magnus, don’t blame Elowen. I never should’ve forced her to do this...”
I stared at them, my nails digging painfully into my palms.
Magnus had threatened our son’s life to force me into the Moonlit Forest for Willa.
I had nearly died doing exactly what he demanded.
And somehow, it was still my fault.
My voice came out hoarse.
“Magnus... what do our son and I even mean to you?”
He shoved me aside and pulled Willa closer into his arms.
“You were born with Alpha blood. It’s your duty to protect the pack.”
His expression hardened.
“Don’t bother me with this nonsense.”

For three years, I was Julian Vance’s perfect shadow.

By day, I was the flawless executive secretary who kept his multi-billion-dollar empire running without a single hitch. By night, I was his secret, contract wife a convenient arrangement kept hidden behind the closed doors of his penthouse to satisfy a dying man's wish. I loved him in the quiet darkness, enduring his coldness, his family’s venom, and the cruel taunts of his elite childhood friend, Victoria.

But three months ago, the illusion shattered. When I was trapped in a hospital room losing our unborn child, Julian was on a red carpet with Victoria. His message to me through his assistant? “Do not interrupt important business meetings with minor domestic emergencies.”

That was the day Vivian Lane died.
The moment our three-year contract expires at midnight, I slide two papers across his mahogany desk: our signed divorce decree and my immediate resignation.

Julian scoffs, arrogant and completely convinced I’ll be crawling back to him within a month when my bank account dries up. He thinks I'm a penniless outcast with nowhere to turn.

He has no idea that while I was playing his submissive secretary, I was quietly building my own foundation. Now, his biggest corporate clients are jumping ship to my new boutique firm, and an international venture capital network has just hired a legendary, anonymous digital strategist known as "The Cipher" to engineer a hostile takeover of Vance Enterprises.

That strategist is me.
As his empire begins to bleed out brick by brick, the billionaire who once looked down on me finally drops to his knees. But I’m no longer his secretary, and I’m no longer his wife. If he wants me back, he’ll have to survive the ruin I’m about to bring to his doorstep.

I still remember the way the air felt when it left my lungs for the last time.

For five years, I was the Quiet Luna of the Blood Moon Pack. I was the wolf-less girl who wasn’t supposed to be there, the one the Omegas mocked and the elders ignored. I thought Nikolai Grey was the kind brother—the safe choice. I loved him through every cold look, and every night he left me alone because I couldn't give him a pup.

I was his wife, but to him, I was just a prophecy to be fulfilled. And when I didn't fit the mold? He didn't just discard me. He ended my life in front of everyone.

But the Moon Goddess gave me a second chance.

I woke up five years ago. The Knight family expects me to marry a Grey. They think I’m going to choose the charming, smiling Nikolai again.

They’re wrong.

I’m done being the victim. If I’m going to survive this life, I don’t need a husband; I need a weapon. I need the brother Nikolai is terrified of. The one they call a monster because he doesn't know how to pretend.

Alexander Grey. He’s ruthless. He’s cold. He’s the Alpha everyone avoids in the hallways. I walked right up to him, ignored the warning growl in his chest, and asked him to marry me.

Nikolai thinks he’s getting a submissive bride. He has no idea that this time, I’m bringing his worst nightmare home to dinner.

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’m a cleaner—the kind hired to make problems disappear: eliminate targets, wipe scenes, erase evidence.

Three years ago, I walked away. I took a desk job at a consulting firm, spending my days sorting files and filling spreadsheets.

To everyone else, I was an easy mark. The project lead mocked me in meetings, stole credit, and dumped every mistake on my head—always in public.

Then came the department banquet.

My enemies showed up.

The same lead who’d been riding me all year ignored my warning and blocked the hallway, drawing a crowd.

The next second, the bomb went off—and the banquet hall was sealed.

That’s when everyone finally understood who the quiet office clerk really was.

I swear, I hate my husband.

At my birthday party, my husband whispered to his mistress in French that he missed her. His voice was low, but I heard it all—the black lingerie, the bit about how pregnancy makes you more sensitive. His French clients around us were laughing. He turned and put his arm around me, claiming he was just helping his clients come up with sweet nothings.

He doesn't know I understand every single word. Just like he doesn't know that inside my body, I'm carrying his other surprise. And his mistress—she's pregnant too. Two wombs, one secret.

Confrontation would be too cheap. Tears are worthless. I quietly started cataloging the hidden networks my father left behind, activating the Swiss accounts.

In seven days, Zoey Smith will cease to exist. And what will my husband's reaction be?

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.

In my past life, we were camping in the wilderness area of a state park when my best friend handed out "lucky charms" to the whole group. Charms she'd secretly packed full of wildlife attractant.

A wild boar knocked me to the ground outside the cabin door. Its tusks tore into my stomach. I pounded on the wood with both fists, screaming. "Help! Open the door!"

Inside were my boyfriend of two years and the best friend I'd been quietly supporting for just as long. Autumn Warren.

"I'm so sorry, Brynn." Autumn's voice broke into sobs, but her weight stayed pressed hard against the door. "There are boars everywhere. We open that door, we're all dead."

"Just hold on! I'm calling 911!" Wyatt Fletcher's voice rang out with the kind of conviction that cost him absolutely nothing.

I paid for that trip. I'd fallen behind because I'd stopped to pull Autumn along.

And they stood on the other side of that door, my blood soaking into the dirt, and locked me out.

I open my eyes. I'm back. It's the day we left.

When my fiancé left me to burn alive to save his "fragile" white lotus, I thought my story was over.

But death had other plans.

Reborn with memories intact, I watched him make the same fatal choice—abandoning me in the flames for her. This time, I smiled and said, "Go save her."

Because this time, the most powerful Alpha in North America was coming for me.

Derek thought he was discarding a burden. He had no idea he was throwing away his only lifeline.

Now, as I stand beside Lucas in his billion-dollar empire, watching my ex grovel in the gutter, I have just one message: karma is a bitch, and so am I.

"I should have known from the day I met my fiancé's father that I would end up sleeping with him. The attraction was so fierce and it was obvious it went both ways."
I thought my life was perfect.
I had Marcus, my sweet and dependable fiancé, a cozy apartment, and a wedding to look forward to. I was the classic good girl—the kind who always followed the rules and made the safe choice.
Until I met Victor
Marcus' father.
Tall, sophisticated, and dangerously charming, Victor was the one man I should never want. But from the moment we shook hands, my body betrayed me.
I told myself it was nothing. A stupid crush. A passing temptation.
So I avoided him.
It didn't work.
One girls' night. One strange-tasting drink. One mistake I can never take back.
Suddenly, I find myself crossing the one line I swore I never would.Now Marcus sleeps beside me every night, completely unaware that his future wife is hiding the most dangerous secret of all.
He has no idea whose face fills my thoughts when he touches me.
Every morning, I tell myself to stop.
But the moment Victor and I are alone, my resolve begins to crumble.
And the worst part?
Victor doesn't seem willing to let me go.
The wedding is getting closer. The lies are piling up. And every stolen moment brings me closer to destroying the life I thought I wanted.
Marcus is the man I'm supposed to marry.
Victor is the one man I'm forbidden to want.
So how long can I keep our affair hidden before Marcus discovers the truth?

“Sidd, if you leave me here, I won’t ever forgive you,” I declared, glaring at him. “I will hold you responsible for anything that happens to me.

"Remember, you made me stay here till late," I stated, even though I was scared, holding him responsible for anything that might happen to me.“I don’t need your forgiveness, Rani,” he snarled. “Holding me responsible for anything bad that happens to you is what enemies do,” he declared and moved off. From hatred to love, it created a bond between Rani and Sidd.

Not without drastic challenges that are meant to separate them forever. Can they withstand the challenges and keep their love strong, or will they allow hatred to take over and be separated forever?

Sophia Johnson, a dedicated reporter, finds herself entangled in a passionate and complex love triangle. It all begins at an ex-CEO's retirement party, where she encounters Harry Stone, the irresistible billionaire heir and CEO of the company. What starts as a magnetic attraction soon evolves into a risky proposal.

Desperate to hold onto his CEO position, Harry suggests an audacious plan to Sophia: she should pretend to be his fiancée for five months, and in return, he offers her a substantial financial reward. Sophia, burdened by crushing student loan debts and the financial struggles of her family, reluctantly agrees. What she doesn't anticipate is the emotional rollercoaster this contract engagement will become.

As the charade unfolds, Sophia falls deeply in love with Harry, only to have her heart shattered when he ends their arrangement to pursue what he believes is his ideal partner. Despite being compensated for her role, Sophia carries a heart-wrenching secret—one she only discovers months after leaving the company: she is carrying Harry's child. The tumultuous nature of their contract engagement makes her hesitant to return to him.

Amid a whirlwind of love, desire, secrets, and betrayal, Sophia grapples with her feelings and the life-changing consequences of her decisions. Will Harry ever come to realize he has a child with Sophia, and will Sophia emerge from this web of deceit and passion with her heart and future intact?

"Why?" I choke out, my hands trembling as I pulled them back to my chest.

As if by instinct, I slide my palm onto my pregnant belly, and was about to tell him about our pup when he turns around, and looks at me.

The look in his eyes was pure, utter hatred. He had never looked at me like that before. He only ever looked at me with loving, gentle eyes, saying that we will soon elope and start a family together.

Now, it has come true, but I'm unsure how to break the news to him when his gaze burns intensely with rage aimed straight at me. His body language has changed, as if he's about to lunge at me and rip me apart, making my heartrate pick up as I stare at him.

"Jax?" I swallow, but the moment he takes a predatory step forward, I find myself stepping back.

"Because I, Jax Arson, hereby reject you, Aria Wales, as my mate!"

Almost in an instant, the most excruciating pain ripped through me unexpectedly. The shock of his words more painful than the rejection itself, because he promised...

The pain was too much to bear. It makes me fall on my knees, clutching the ground as wave after wave of unimaginable pain leaves me gasping for air. Sharp claws extend from my fingers and I began clawing at my chest. I can't stop even if I wanted to, worried it might hurt the baby yet I had no control. It feels like I was desperately trying to tear my heart out of my chest, and I cry out painfully before I hear his next words.

"For the sake of what we had, I suggest you leave Black Shadow Pack. You have three days."

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.

Duke Damon Nigrescent and his younger sister Daria Nigrescent of the Nigrescent famil, the only aristocratic family that had more powers than all the Monarchs. Not much was known about them and I didn’t want to dig any further either but , there was something pulling me towards this castle. The moment I stepped foot inside I had a feeling that I wouldn’t be able to get out of there anymore. The Nigrescent family was known for having blue eye and white hair , a physical appearance like that of a creature out of a fantasy book . Duke Damon was incredibly handsome . All my classmates’ eyes were fixated on him, while mine were on Lion, my secret crush without actually realising that the Duke’s attention was on me. He was an annoying stalker that scared the crap out of me when we first met . When it was time to leave , I couldn’t go. Lion was about to confess to me. The moment I had been waiting so much for had finally arrived but before I could make it there , I accidentally ended in the middle of a ritual and unbenounce to everyone, I became Duke Damon’s bride. From that day everything changed completely as all the secrets that had been buried came to life. My ordinary happy life was part of the past , now , I was faced with all kind of dangers , duties , love , heartbreak and….vampires. At first I loathed the idea of being his bride but with each passing day I find myself longing for him, attracted to his muscled strong body and handsome face that made my heart flutter making me confused about my real feelings. We were united because of his curse, but can I let go of this passion in exchange for the freedom I so desperately desire ?

My fiancée abandoned our wedding just because of one word from her childhood sweetheart.

What's even more interesting is that she actually had her sexy sister take her place at the wedding.

This is just wonderful - if you leave, then don't come back.

I already have a legal wife now.

Manhattan City Hall, ten minutes before the marriage certificate is issued.
I looked at the prenuptial agreement, what flashed through my mind was not a sweet future, but the tragic ending of my past life—prison bars, fabricated evidence, and my wife Selena's cold face in court.
me to hell without hesitation .
Having been reborn, this time I will not be anyone's stepping stone again.
The real game only began the moment the agreement was torn up.

Rhett and I hated each other for ten years.

He hated me because my father drugged his drink and arranged for me to end up in his bed.

He was forced to marry me. Kendall, the stepsister he cherished, couldn’t handle the shock and ran away. She was later kidnapped and murdered outside the city.

I hated him for blaming everything on me. He never touched me, never looked at me, and never spoke a single word to me.

Our marriage became a cold, lonely grave.

Then I was kidnapped.

He stormed into an abandoned warehouse and threw himself between me and the bomb.

Before he died, he said, “Maren, if we get another life, I hope we never meet again.”

When I open my eyes again, I’m back in that hotel room ten years earlier.

Rhett lies on the bed in a Manhattan hotel suite, his shirt hanging open, his skin flushed and his breathing ragged.

This time, I don’t go near him.

I call my father instead.

“Dad, call off the security guards. I don’t want him anymore.”

“Book me a flight out of the country. The sooner, the better.”

In my last life, I risked everything to protect my fiancée, only for her to shove me into a horde of zombies with nothing but, "You owed David this."
When I got a second chance, I found myself back right before the rescue chopper took off at the start of the apocalypse.
As I watched her cling to the cabin door, refusing to leave because she was waiting for her ex, I stepped back without hesitation: respect, best wishes, stay together forever. This time, I'm done being the pathetic simp who gets played for a fool.
I snatched the top-tier crystal core first, awakened an apocalyptic-level power, and watched with a cold smile as the cheating couple turned on each other in the middle of a pile of corpses, stabbing and screaming in despair. When the end of the world comes, you deal with the bleeding hearts first—then you rise to godhood.

I severed our Mate Bond with my own hands.

In that moment, I lay unconscious, bleeding under the silvery moonlight, while he knelt some distance away, clutching his chest as if he had been hollowed out.

Once, he shielded me from nine silver stakes, only to crown another woman; he placed my protective pendant around her neck, then cast me into a water prison. He professed, “I love only you,” yet stood outside my hospital room, nursing her child as if it were his own.

I loathed him, resolved to leave.

I believed this was the end.

Little did I know, as I thought I had finally gained my freedom, he would chase after the debts of blood and regret, intruding upon the new life I was rebuilding—

To redeem a love that no longer sought redemption.

"What kind of sick game are you playing?" my husband, Mark, snapped through the phone.
I stared at my heavy plaster cast and said nothing.
In my previous life, distant relatives brought a bag of cash to my clinic, begging me to bump my cousin up the surgery waitlist. I refused.
By morning, the money vanished.
Security footage showed someone in my scrubs, with my exact face, stealing it.
My colleague, Sarah, and my husband accused me of taking the bribe. They destroyed my career. My cousin died waiting.
Driven mad by grief, her parents ran me down with their truck.
Reborn, when I saw the new surveillance footage, I finally understood who she was.

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.

I was Sophie Langley, the only daughter of a modestly wealthy family.
Then I married Harrison Whitmore, the heir to a Manhattan dynasty.
Harrison was five years older than me, stern, private, and almost offensively rich. He had no scandals, no revolving door of women, and no hobbies beyond making money.
Conveniently, my favorite hobby was spending it.
The black card never declined. The couture never ran out. Neither did the jewelry.
My life as a trophy wife was perfect—until Harrison's childhood friend came home from London.
After that, my husband stopped coming home.

For eighteen years, Ethan Caldwell was the person I trusted most. Then, on the night meant to celebrate my future, he handed me another woman's hotel key and asked me to protect her reputation.

I gave him one final chance: meet me at the airport and choose our promised trip. Instead, he lied about a car accident while I watched him wrap a matching scarf around Vanessa Reed's neck.

By the time Ethan understood that I was truly gone, I had already chosen a life where love would never mean waiting to come second.

That admissions season, Lily — a poor student who couldn't even clear the state university cutoff — insisted on dragging my two childhood friends off to the worst community college in the state, just so she wouldn't have to go alone.

Ethan held an offer from Yale. Ryan had been accepted to Stanford. Yet the two of them, as if under a spell, were ready to throw away those schools just to follow her.

I wore myself out trying to talk them down. All I got back was: You look down on Lily. You're just jealous.

Behind their backs, I contacted counselors, admissions offices, and their parents, and clawed their spots back one by one just before the deadline.

Lily went to that community college alone. Six months later, she jumped from the roof of her dorm.

Ethan and Ryan handled her funeral, then came back and tied me to the roof of a thirty-six-story building.

"If you hadn't stopped us from going with Lily, she never would have been bullied there."

"You're so capable, aren't you? Then go down and keep her company."

They pushed me over the edge without a flicker of hesitation.

When I opened my eyes, I was back at the start of college application season.

This time, I won't save them.

For ten silent years, I propped up a boy named Lycan—the least favored Alpha heir in his pack. Everyone said his bloodline was too thin, that he didn’t even deserve to compete for succession.

So I paved the way with money, used resources to help him awaken his bloodline, sent him to the best academy, and made sure he not only secured the position of pack’s new Alpha, but also crossed into the human world to become an Oscar-winning actor hailed by millions.

Tonight was his coronation and his Oscar night rolled into one. I sat in the shadows of the audience, watching him grip the trophy, debonair under the spotlight, genuinely happy for him. When his gaze skimmed across the crowd and landed on me, my chest warmed.
Did Lycan…notice me?

The next second, he faced the camera and spoke, frost-cold:
“I want to thank someone—she taught me what harassment really is.”

Three years ago, I gave my grieving boss $6,000 for her husband’s funeral. The office called me a fool in love. She called me into her office—and fired me.
Then Claire appeared in my city with a suitcase, an apology, and an offer to start over.
I almost believed she had come back for me.
Until I overheard her whispering to a sick child about finding his real father.
Claire hadn’t returned alone. She had twins, one of them was dying, and the man who could save him might be me.

I was rushing to perform an emergency surgery when a woman and her mother charged at me, slapping me to the ground. They accused me of being a corrupt, crooked doctor who prescribed fake drugs for kickbacks.
I begged for mercy, pleading that I needed to go perform surgery on my mother, but they beat me black and blue.
"A quack like you deserves to perform surgery?"
When my husband finally arrived, I thought he would stand up for me. To my absolute horror, he was already having an affair with that woman. He called me an embarrassment and sneered, "If your mother dies, it’s exactly what she deserves!"
I froze.
But, darling... the person dying on the operating table right now is your mother.

I thought fifteen years of marriage was unbreakable—until my husband, Daniel, and his first love, Chloe, joined hands and killed my only sister, Mia.
And Lucas—the son I'd raised for fifteen years—stood on their side and called me a "crazy woman."
At Mia's funeral, Chloe curled up in Daniel's arms and posted on Instagram: "Survived the storm—thank God I had you."
Lucas liked it and commented: "Aunt Chloe, get well soon! You're the one who deserves to stand besides Dad."
That was when I finally woke up.
I signed the divorce papers, walked away with nothing, and disappeared to Paris.
After I vanished for good, Daniel finally realized every "truth" was a lie. He went mad looking for me and chased me all the way to Paris.
And I gave him just one sentence:
"I don't hate you. I just don't love you anymore."

Ashley Sullivan is forced to marry Edwin King, the ruthless heir rumored to be dying, all to replace her sister. But this mute bride hides a powerful secret—she’s a miracle doctor.
On their wedding night, she realizes Edwin is the same man she saved the night before, the one who stole her first kiss. He plans to humiliate her, but she shocks him by taming his wild tiger and saving his grandmother with a single needle.
When he demands to know who she really is, Ashley meets him with a cold smile and a needle at his throat. “Mr. King, it’s time we settle the score.”

The Wedding Variation plays the music of betrayal, the strange man's violation is like a nightmare, and the black hand of the table pushes her into the deep sea. Three years later, Evelyn Ross is reborn as a goddess of vengeance and joins forces with the mysterious Finn MacLeod to unravel the conspiracy of the past. Who set up this deadly deception? Who is the mastermind hiding in the dark? Each investigation makes the truth more confusing, and her relationship with Finn MacLeod will be full of suspense in this revenge journey to where?