3911 Book(s) Related to falling for my brother's best friend

"No... my baby!"

Juliana Wells weakly reached out, her fingers grasping at nothing as nurses whisked the blood-covered newborn away before she could even catch a glimpse.

Through the haze, she heard the midwife's urgent shout.

"The other baby has the cord wrapped around its neck! Heart rate's dropping! We need an emergency C-section now! Mrs. Sharp, you need to make a decision!"

But Ashley Sharp's response from outside the delivery room was ice-cold: "Don't bother. Get rid of her and that useless thing in her belly. The Sharp family only needs one heir."

Juliana's breath caught in her throat. She clutched the sheets beneath her with trembling hands, her voice barely a whisper. "...Why?"

A year ago, the Wells Group had been maliciously reported for tax evasion. Overnight, everything collapsed.
Her father, consumed by despair, had thrown himself from the company's rooftop. Her mother suffered a cerebral hemorrhage upon hearing the news and died before the ambulance arrived. Juliana hadn't even had time to grieve before creditors descended like wolves, eager to devour what little remained of the Wells family fortune.

That's when Ashley had appeared with an offer she couldn't refuse—carry a child via IVF for the Sharp family's comatose eldest son, critically injured in a car accident. Give them a son to continue the bloodline. In exchange, Ashley would eliminate all her enemies and clear the Wells family name.

Juliana had believed her. She'd gambled everything, endured ten months of pregnancy, suffered through excruciating labor. But from the very beginning, Ashley had never intended to keep her promise. What a carefully orchestrated trap. What a perfect betrayal. She and her unborn child were nothing but disposable tools.

This humiliation, this stolen child—Juliana would never forget.

When I was in excruciating pain from cancer, my husband gave the last box of painkillers to his pregnant mistress.

"I have a mate," I said.
"Is that so?" Alaric's gaze narrowed. He leaned closer, his breath fanning my nose and all I could think was to kiss him.
"Yes, and that’s not you," I pushed back my urges as I whispered. Why couldn’t it be him?
A feral growl left his lips as he pulled me closer, "You’re MINE!"
☆☆☆☆☆☆
Betrayed. Abandoned. Left to die. Lilac had given everything to Alpha King Kael—her love, her loyalty, her very soul—only to be cast aside when his fated mate arrived. The fragile Omega not only stole Kael’s heart but destroyed everything Lilac had built, leaving her broken and watching her family perish. As Lilac took her final breath, the last thing she saw was Kael holding the woman who had ruined her.
But death was not the end.
When Lilac’s eyes opened, she was back, six years in the past, standing in the ceremony where she was first chosen as Kael’s mate. The goddess had granted her a second chance. But this time, she would not be the same naive woman who loved blindly. This time, she would fight. She would take back what was hers.
Yet, with every choice she makes, the future begins to shift. Kael's half brother Alaric showed up in the picture. Fate is no longer predictable, and the kingdom's destiny is no longer set in stone. As Lilac walks a new path, one question haunts her: Is she rewriting her salvation… or her doom?

The Secrets We Keep

Tati has spent three years running from a past she thought was buried forever. At twenty-six, she’s built a new life in a new city, carefully hiding the mistakes that nearly destroyed her. But when an anonymous message arrives containing a photo from her past and a chilling promise to reveal the truth, everything she’s worked for begins to unravel.

As fear closes in, Tati meets Kai Carter—a confident, perceptive stranger who refuses to look away when her carefully crafted facade starts to crack. Drawn together by secrets, danger, and an undeniable connection, they uncover a web of fraud, betrayal, and a suspicious death tied to the powerful men Tati once trusted.

With a mysterious meeting looming and old enemies resurfacing, Tati and Kai must uncover what really happened three years ago before the past claims them both. As buried evidence resurfaces and long-hidden truths emerge, Tati is forced to confront not only the darkness she escaped but also the possibility of trusting someone again.

A suspenseful romance filled with mystery, danger, and emotional healing, The Secrets We Keep explores the cost of survival, the weight of guilt, and the courage it takes to stop running from the truth.

I am a mermaid.

To walk toward him, I swallowed a dark potion, shedding my tail for a pair of legs.
Every step felt like treading on sharp blades, yet I endured it all willingly.
He took me in, promising to protect me for the rest of my life.

Then, his ex-lover returned.

She orchestrated one accident after another to frame me—a slashed costume, a staged fall down the stairs... And every single time, convenient "eyewitnesses" immediately pointed their fingers at me.

He believed them all.

Until a falling stage light crushed her legs.
He pinned me to the operating table, personally severed my legs, and transplanted them onto that woman.

What he didn't know was that anyone who walked on these legs would have to suffer the excruciating agony of stepping on knives.
He simply told me coldly: "You ruined her ability to dance, so you will pay with your legs."

That night, alone and broken, I wheeled myself to the beach.
Using only my bare hands, I crawled across the coarse sand, into the crashing waves, and returned to my true home.

——Leaving him to stare at the security monitors, watching helplessly as I sank into the dark sea, never to surface again.

In my last life, a friend I’d trusted for ten years drove a knife into my heart over a single biscuit. When I opened my eyes again, we had both been reborn—right before the extreme freeze arrived.

He was convinced the apocalypse had come. He borrowed from loan sharks, rented a massive warehouse to hoard supplies, and even crowned himself king during the icebound period, killing without mercy.

But he didn’t know the truth:

This disaster would end completely after only thirty days.

While he taunted me like a madman, I didn’t expose him. I calmly requested thirty days of paid leave from my company.

This time, I’ll sit in a warm, climate-controlled room and watch—when the state machine restarts on day thirty—how he drops to his knees and sobs in despair.

After I retired, I was willing to do the dirtiest work at a small auto repair shop—just to give my sick daughter an ordinary childhood.
I endured my mother’s insults, my eldest brother’s wage cuts, my younger brother’s extortion.
But they actually joined forces to steal my daughter’s life-saving money for gambling, then sold me into an illegal mine to pay off their debts.
When the iron chain locked around my wrist, when my daughter cried in despair, the killing intent that had slept in my blood for three years finally woke up completely.
They had no idea I was once the iron-blooded God of War—commander of a million troops, the name that made enemy nations tremble.

At the Morello family’s Christmas dinner, I stood beside Vincent, waiting for him to announce our engagement.
Instead, in the very next second, he walked in holding a little boy and claimed him as his son.
And the woman he said he was going to marry? Scarlett Morello. The one he had always introduced as his “sister.”
The whole room erupted in applause. I stood there frozen, like a nail hammered into the floor.
Later, in his study, he took my hand and said, “Scarlett is dying. Late-stage breast cancer. She only has six months left. After she’s gone, I’ll marry you.”
But there was no guilt in his eyes. No love, either.
Then he told me to go to his villa that afternoon, to take care of the woman who was supposedly “dying.”
I opened the photo he sent me. Scarlett was lying in a hospital bed, pale-faced, an IV in the back of her hand.
A professional tennis player who had been playing in an exhibition match three weeks ago, and who had dropped three grand at Louis Vuitton on Fifth Avenue just five days ago.
But sure. She was “dying.”
At three in the morning, I was curled up by the front door of my apartment, crying so long I lost track of time.
Then my phone lit up. A text from an unknown number:
[Elena, I’m downstairs. When we were kids, you told me that once I controlled the docks on the East Coast, you’d marry me. The docks are mine now. Does that promise still stand?]
I pulled back the curtain and there he was. Ethan Vitale, my first love, leaning against the door of a black Cadillac, lifting a hand in a lazy wave.
Three years ago, when he left New York, he was only a Capo.
Now, he was the Don of the Vitale family.
He didn’t rush me. Didn’t pressure me to come downstairs.
He came for one reason only, to let me know he was back.
I wiped away my tears and texted back:
[It still stands.]
Because I wanted to see for myself just how long that woman could keep up her act.