8665 Book(s) Related to i inherit the tycoon s entire fortune

"I will take everything from you," my half-sister whispered as my husband, Colton, drove a blade into my chest. "Your love, your life, everything."

I died in a pool of my own blood, betrayed by the only family I had left. But instead of eternal darkness, light burned into my eyes.

I woke up standing in a luxury restaurant, looking down at Colton kneeling before me with a velvet ring box.

It was the exact day he proposed.

Armed with a second chance and burning for vengeance, I smirked and looked past him. "I'd love to marry," I announced to the stunned crowd, "but not you. You don't mind me being your aunt, do you?"

With those words, I walked straight into the arms of Colton’s powerful, enigmatic billionaire uncle—Richard Asher.

“You are going to suck my dick like a good girl.” He commanded, slapping his dick on my already stick out tongue. I wrapped my full lips around him and began bobbing my head up and down.

“I am going to cum but I still need to fuck your little pussy so good.” He pulled out of my mouth and pushed me down onto the bed.

“Fuck, you are so wet and dripping.” He groaned when he pressed his dick to my entrance, rubbing up and down my folds and coating it with the juice leaking out of me.

“Oh my goodness.” I breathed, instantly felt full. He was so damn big.


Evelin was forced into sheltering at the mafia Don safe house when her family was attacked and her father sent to prison under suspicion circumstances. She has to share space with the mafia heir, next Don Anthony Vincenzo. He was known as the Devil himself and pussy hunter.

When she becomes suspicious of the attack on her family, she begins a dangerous road to find answers. But what is more dangerous for her; the mafia Don or the truth someone desperately doesn't want her to find?

Vivian "Viv" Rossi has been in love with her best friend, Josh Sterling, since they were both ten years old. Theirs is a classic "Opposites Attract": she is a fiery, struggling abstract artist who smells like turpentine and lives in a chaotic loft; he is the tailored, meticulous CEO of Sterling Enterprises, living in a sterile, modern skyscraper.
​Josh is destined for the "Perfect Marriage" to a legacy heiress a cold, corporate merger disguised as romance. Viv has always accepted her role as his safe space, the keeper of his secrets, and his only true escape.
​But three months before Josh’s engagement is set to become an irrevocable wedding, the decades of tension between them ignite. In a moment of mutual, frantic vulnerability, the line between "best friends" and "lovers" is utterly destroyed.
​Terrified of losing their history but incapable of stopping the attraction, they make a devastating bargain: A Friends with Benefits arrangement, valid only for ninety days. No strings. No jealousy. No love. Just a final, private goodbye to the "what-ifs" before he steps into his predetermined future.
​As the wedding countdown ticks down, the unattainable nature of their relationship becomes a torture. Viv must hide her devastating, unrequited love while watching Josh plan a wedding he doesn't want. Josh, locked in his family’s expectations, realizes the only person who has ever truly seen him is the one he is preparing to abandon.
​The Silver Lining Vow is a high-emotion, contemporary Realistic Fiction romance that explores the agonizing space between duty and desire. When ninety days expire, they must face the ultimate choice: a life of empty prestige, or the chaos of risking everything for a love that was never meant to be.

Everyone in Night City fears Sebastian Locke.

The ruthless billionaire. The monstrous Alpha. A predator who could tear a man apart with his bare hands.

But when he meets me, he runs.

My name is Ophelia Hayes. To my family, I'm a helpless girl they can humiliate, manipulate, and sell to the highest bidder.

How adorable.

They don't know I was raised to kill. They don't know my tears are fake, my innocence is a weapon, and I've already buried men far more dangerous than them.

Then someone starts watching me.

Black roses appear outside my window. My belongings are touched. Every man who threatens me meets a terrifying fate.

My secret admirer is a monster.

And the strangest part? He seems more afraid of me than I am of him.

Sebastian thinks he's stalking his prey.

Poor thing.

He has no idea I'm already choosing a collar for him.

When I was injured and hospitalized, my husband, Adrian Hale, was still giving me the silent treatment over his ex-girlfriend.
 
During our worst fight, he told me, "If Vanessa and I wanted to be together, you never would have become Mrs. Hale."
 
After that, I became the kind of wife he'd always claimed to want. I stopped asking questions. I stopped checking when he would be home. I stopped arguing when Vanessa called.
 
Yet, that was when Adrian began reporting every detail of his day, avoiding Vanessa, and trying to come home early. On my birthday, he canceled a trip to Europe and flew back overnight to surprise me.
 
I should have been moved.
 
Instead, I hid in the kitchen and whispered to my best friend, "We're getting divorced. Why is he going to all this trouble?"
 
She laughed. "Adrian Hale is rich, gorgeous, and finally acting like a husband. Are you sure you won't regret leaving him?"
 
I thought about it.
 
"No," I said. "I think I'll finally be able to breathe."
 
Something dropped to the floor behind me.
 
I turned. Adrian was standing in the doorway, looking completely ashen.

On a storm-stranded island villa, Clara Hayes wakes after a vicious bachelorette party to find four women dead—among them her former best friend, bride-to-be Vivian Sterling. Branded the obvious killer, the discarded ex must fight a locked-room mystery, class prejudice, and a carefully staged narrative as buried trauma, betrayal, and revenge surface through rain-soaked glass, shattered flutes, burned letters, and one untouched bottle of soda.

Beneath the sprawling oaks of Bramblewood University, my parents hovered like proud paparazzi. In the center of their screens stood Liora, my childhood best friend, and Kael—my boyfriend of four years.

They stood pressed together, Liora's blonde curls brushing Kael's jawline. My parents shouted directions with absolute adoration. You'd think she was their flesh and blood, or the one wearing his promise ring.

I waited in the periphery for twenty minutes. Just one photo. That was all I asked. But my mother's eyes never left her glowing screen, completely blind to her real daughter suffocating in the shadows.

"I still haven't heard back from any firms," Liora sighed, slipping into a practiced pout.

Kael's focus instantly snapped to her. "Hey, don't stress. You can always work at my agency. I'll make sure you're taken care of."

"Send me your resume tonight, Leo," my dad chimed in eagerly. "Your first job sets the tone for your career. You absolutely cannot settle."

Before I could speak, my older brother, Joren, jogged across the lawn. He breezed right past me, zeroing in on Liora. "Don't panic about the job hunt," he promised. "My department is expanding next week. I'll personally fast-track your application to the top."

Here is the English translation, tailored to match the gritty, dramatic, and satisfying tone typical of apocalyptic revenge web novels:

In my previous life, I was drained to the bone by the so-called "Doomsday Evolution System," forced to watch as my best friend and fiancée stepped over my corpse to scavenge my supplies.

When I opened my eyes again, I had regressed to exactly three days before the apocalypse. When that faint blue, glowing "cheat" materialized once more, I decisively took a step back, watching my enemies fanatically claim it for themselves. They thought they had grasped the key to ruling the doomsday. Little did they know, they had just swallowed a parasite that would devour its host.

Then, the extreme cold descended, and toxic spores blotted out the sky.

Using my knowledge of the future, I struck a deal with a female black-market boss, packing an underground bunker with tons of supplies and heavy firepower. Sipping hot coffee in front of the control room monitors, I sat back and enjoyed the show. I watched my enemies be systematically stripped of their sanity, sacrifice their companions, and ultimately degenerate into mindless, mutated lumps of flesh driven only by base instincts.

In this man-eating apocalypse, I refuse to touch any bizarre parasitic "gifts." Thick alloy doors and an endless supply of ammunition—that is the only true law of survival in the wasteland.

Three years ago, my fiancé Asher stole my project achievements for his white moonlight Chloe and abandoned me cruelly.
Three years later, he returned arrogantly, ordering me to tidy up my villa, accept his mistress, and humble myself to apologize. He even humiliated me with a mistress contract.
A vicious supporting female system suddenly bound to me, forcing me to fawn on Asher, yield to Chloe, and end up miserable and jealous according to the fixed script.
But I refused to submit to fate.
I only want a peaceful and free life with my husband and my daughter.
I have never been a side character in anyone’s story. I am my own sole protagonist.

For two years my mother told the whole town that my sister Zoe was in a hospital in Switzerland.
She shut the heat off in my room with a wrench, because Zoe's ward is kept at sixty-five degrees. My dinner was always cold, because Zoe can't keep solid food down. I never got a birthday cake, because Zoe hasn't had one since she was seventeen.
The day I won the state 1600, she pulled the medal off my neck in the parking lot and didn't say one word the whole drive home. Then she walked me down to the basement, dropped it on the floor, and ground it under her heel until the ribbon came apart. She took a picture of it lying there. I'll send this to your sister. So she knows her little sister is keeping her company.
She came back down that night with a pair of garden shears. I fought her. She got a fistful of my hair, put my head over her knee, and cut it all off, because chemo took Zoe's.
Then I found something down there my mother never meant me to see.
My sister isn't where she said. And she isn't sick.

On my wedding day, I ran, still in my wedding dress not because I wanted to, but because my mother had a car accident.
By the time I got to the hospital, Lucia Vitale, Finn’s mother, threw a five-million-dollar check at me and told me to leave her son.
Before I could even respond, the door was kicked open.
Finn stood in the doorway.
He raised his phone and played a forged recording.
“My mom needs the money… I know I’m not good enough for him… I’ll leave him…”
He didn’t listen to my explanation.
He dragged me out of the hospital room, shoved me into a car, and took me to the Vitale estate on Long Island.
The room he locked me in had bars on the windows.
There were listening devices hidden in the walls.
“You’re my wife,” he said coldly.
“What’s the difference between a wife and a prisoner?”
For six months, I endured his imprisonment and endured him bringing women to the room next to mine.
The women he brought home.
Every night, their moans echoed through the walls.
Meanwhile, Finn was on a private island, celebrating his mistress Isabella Moretti’s birthday.
A forty-million-dollar island.
A heart lit up in the sky by drones.
Isabella said,“he never loved you. You were just a mistake.”
I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold on.
But I knew one thing: escape, or face death.

This was the most miserable Christmas I had ever experienced.
On Christmas Eve night, my husband brought his mistress home and demanded that I, his pregnant wife, leave with nothing.
On this day, I lost my husband and also lost the child in my womb...

They pulled my husband Beckett’s car out of the Avery River at four in the morning.
I was sitting in the reception area of the Ardenvale police station, having waited all night. Everyone thought I was just the pathetic wife—the one who had been humiliated at her mother-in-law’s birthday banquet, went home early, and panicked when her husband never returned.
No one knew that from the moment I dialed 911, this was exactly the news I had been waiting for.
He was dead. And I was the one who made it happen.

On the night my grandmother died, my husband Kael came home trailing blood.
His leather motorcycle jacket was soaked dark red, yet he flashed a savage grin: "I wiped the floor with those bastards tonight!"
For three years, he had treated our home as nothing more than a pit stop between reckless street races.
I’d finally had enough. "After the funeral, we're getting a divorce."
Before the words fully left my mouth, my phone rang. It was his riding partner, Lunn, his voice choking with sobs: "Sera... Kael drove off the cliff tonight. They only recovered bloody pieces of his helmet!"
But the "dead man" was standing right in front of me...

My husband often made me suffer for the sake of my younger sister, even divorcing me because of her.
My parents gave all their love to my sister and neglected me.
My husband and parents even had my sister perform surgery on me.
But they didn't know that my sister had no idea how to perform surgery.
It didn't matter though, because I no longer cared.
On Christmas Day, when they were celebrating, they finally remembered me.
But I was already dead.

For five years, I had turned Preston Tanner from a broke kid who could barely afford tuition into one of Silicon Valley's hottest young founders.
I thought we would do exactly what we had promised back in that garage—take our AI healthcare startup public, ring the opening bell together, and get married.
Until today.
At the product launch that would determine whether we landed our Series A, Preston stood before the press and credited the core algorithm patent I had spent seventy-two sleepless hours developing to a girl who couldn't even write Python.
"Sloane, you're already my fiancée," he said. "Willow needs this patent to strengthen her green-card application."
Staring at his utterly self-righteous face, I felt sick.
I didn't know when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, he had rotted from the inside out.
And if he was rotten, it was time to throw him away.

"I, Dominic Thorne, hereby reject you as my fated mate." Those words shattered my soul in front of the entire pack. Eighteen years old, and I still couldn't complete a full shift—the "defective reject" everyone loved to mock. But what nobody knew was the monster sleeping inside me. When a stranger with golden eyes found me bleeding in the forest and whispered, "You're not broken. You're something the world hasn't seen in a thousand years," I realized my rejection was only the beginning. Something ancient is waking up inside me. And it's hungry.

For 300 days, Wendy Bailey believed she was building a family. An orphan who finally found love, she swallowed her husband's "pregnancy vitamins" like sacred vows—until she overheard the truth.

She wasn't a wife. She was a womb.

Aaron Hill's real plan: extract his heir, then bury her in a mental institution—clearing the throne of Mrs. Hill for his precious first love, Aria.

"Once she's on the delivery table, she dies after giving birth."

He wanted a son. He wanted her gone.

But Wendy already dialed the clinic. The abortion is scheduled.

Now the bleeding orphan he treats like a dog is about to teach the Hill dynasty a lesson: a vessel can shatter—and take everything down with it.

How much will it cost Aaron when he realizes he destroyed the only woman who ever truly loved him?

Revenge is coming. And it's wearing his ring.

For three years, the man I met online has called me Mistress. I've never seen his face.

Tonight, a bullet tears through my shoulder at my mafia family's welcome dinner. I hide in a linen closet, but the hitman follows me. A silver tag slips from under his shirt: Vee's Good Boy. I gave it to him. He doesn't know the woman behind the door is the one he's been begging to meet.

I text him an order. His gun vanishes from the doorway. Then his footsteps come back.

Elroy has severe OCD. In the ten years we've been together, he's never allowed me to eat in his car.
On our tenth anniversary, we made plans to watch the stars together.
But just as I reached the mountaintop, my phone rang—it was him.
"Something came up at work. I can't make it tonight. You go ahead and enjoy the view."
The moment he hung up, I saw his female classmate's post about returning to the country.
Catalina was sitting in his passenger seat, holding a half-eaten piece of cake in her hands.
【Someone was afraid I'd get hungry coming back so late, so he specially brought me this little cake～】
Another picture showed Catalina's shoes—still on—planted firmly on the passenger seat.
【He says I'm the only exception to his OCD～ I can do whatever I want in his car, hehe.】
I looked up at the twinkling stars above me, a bitter smile tugging at my lips.
This was the tenth time he'd abandoned me.
Every single anniversary without fail, this "female classmate" of his would show up.
I once tried to gently tell him: "I don't want to be interrupted like this every time."
Elroy looked at me with displeasure. "Interrupted? Catalina is my friend. Can you not be so petty?"
The cold wind howled across the mountaintop. Catalina's words stuck in my heart like a thorn, stinging until my eyes grew wet.
After ten years, I'm done with this relationship.

I would often find myself staring into my son Leon's eyes, lost in thought.
One, a deep azure blue, was inherited from his father. The other, however, was amber.
I couldn't understand it. While Leon's lineage is indeed mixed, his other eye should have been silver—the mark of my bloodline, the symbol of the royal werewolf lineage.
Yet it wasn't. This question had haunted me for five years.
Then, by chance, I came across an ancient book in my husband Carlisle's study. It detailed the hereditary rules of eye color for the royal werewolf line:
Regardless of which race they intermarry with, the direct descendants of the royal werewolves will always inherit at least one distinctive eye.
This meant that a son I bore would definitely have silver pupils.
My hands began to tremble uncontrollably. I shared my fear—that we might have brought home the wrong child—with Carlisle.
He flew into a rage, snatched the book from my hands, and threw it into the fireplace.
"Selene, are you doubting my fidelity? Or suspecting that our son isn't your own? If Leon knew you doubted him, his heart would be shattered."
Carlisle stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Watching his retreating figure, my heart grew cold, piece by piece.
His reaction confirmed my worst fear, the one I desperately wanted to deny.
With the full moon just seven days away, I decided to abandon the plan of taking Leon back to the royal werewolf clan.

Three months into their marriage, Stella Dawson had been diligently playing the role of a delicate, spoiled flower—pushing every button she could—until she finally drove the CEO to the brink of madness.
Alexander Sterling coldly tossed the divorce papers at her. "Let's get divorced."
Tears welled up in Stella's eyes, but inwardly, she was grinning from ear to ear. Good riddance to being the CEO's wife! I'm going back to being the richest woman alive!
Alexander was certain he’d never regret his decision.
That is, until he saw his ex-wife surrounded by admirers, amassing wealth, and dominating every industry she touched. Power players from all fields bowed before her, declaring, "Little sister, just say the word, and we’ll take down anyone who dares mess with you!"
Swallowing his pride, Alexander squeezed his way into the crowd of handsome men. "Sweetheart, I take it back. Let’s get back together."

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.”

I'm the mafia heir's practice girlfriend.
He uses me to learn how to control his temper, how to kiss, how to make love.
All so he won't freak out his true love after they get married.
His guys worry: "Boss, you're not actually catching feelings for the maid's daughter, are you?"
Michael laughs coldly: "Would you fall for a sex toy?"
Everyone thinks I'm pathetic, but I keep smiling while I hand him knives and light his cigarettes.
Until news breaks that he's engaged.
His mom slaps down a hundred-million-dollar check: "Get away from Michael. Disappear forever."
I take the money like a good girl and vanish.
But that night, I hear Michael tried to kill himself and got rushed to the ER.

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.

I found out my entire relationship with the golden boy of hockey was just a sick, twisted bet with his ex-girlfriend.

I gave Felix Sawyer my firsts, my heart, and my absolute devotion, only to stand frozen in a parking lot listening to him and his friends laugh at my pathetic existence. "The whole thing with Bethel was just a bet," he had smiled, shattering my world.

Years later, I’m no longer that naive college nerd. I’m playing in the championship finals, and the only thing standing between me and the trophy is the demon who ruined my life.

"Let's make a bet," Felix whispered, cornering me in the locker room before the game, his smug face inches from mine. "If you win, I'll crawl in the snow. But if I win... you belong to me."

I accepted, fueled by pure, unadulterated hate. I was going to crush him on the ice. I was going to make him bleed tears.

But I didn't.

I watched in absolute horror as the final buzzer blew, and the scoreboard mocked my failure. Felix skated toward me, the crowd chanting his name, a dangerous, predatory smirk on his face.

"A bet is still a bet, darling," he mouthed. And tonight, he was coming to collect his prize.

Anna Green walks in on her boyfriend cheating, only to realize she's not the only witness. A mysterious man stands beside her, watching the same scene unfold. He leans in and murmurs, "Want revenge?"

That night, she loses a boyfriend and picks up a husband.

What begins as a deal between strangers soon turns into something far more complicated. She thought it was just about benefits. He gave her exclusive love.

Now, tangled in a marriage she never expected, Anna wonders who's really in control, especially when the man she married refuses to play by the rules.

Scarlett Taylor looked at the test report saying she had a last-stage cancer, and the news of her husband, Everett Robinson, and his ex-girlfriend Amelia Martin getting married soon, and her world crumbled.
At that moment, she realized that her three years of marriage and love for Everett were nothing more than a joke.
Clenching the test reports in her hand, Scarlett decided to give up on this loveless marriage and live the remaining days of her life for herself.
At the gate of the divorce office, Everett sneered, "Scarlett Taylor, I am waiting for the day when you regret this!"
Scarlett looked at him and smiled mockingly, "The only thing I will regret is marrying you!" and left.
Two months later when Scarlett came back, Everett kneel in front of him, begging, "Scarlett, I regret it, Please forgive me and let's get back together."
Scarlett looked at him and sneered, "Get lost! I don't know you!"

Kane was an ex-convict — a nobody. His wife's family treated him like dirt.

They didn't know his secret.

Ten years ago, he was framed. But in prison, he became something else. Today, he is the Mercenary King — commander of millions.

He hides his power to protect his wife and daughter. He plays the loser. He takes the insults.

But when his enemies cross the line…

The Mercenary King will stop pretending.

"Sh*t, you weren't supposed to see this,"

He pulled the woman up, his shirt barely covering what he'd left on her behind and she grumbled, "What the hell Rico?! I haven't-"

She saw me and her eyes turned to slits.

"Whose whore are you?"

I'm going to be sick, what kind of nightmare is this.

"It's business, Sofia baby, go to the bedroom. I'll be done in a minute,"

Lenny Willow has given enough chances to the men in her life, from her drunk of a father to her slimy college boyfriend who tricked her into taking the fall for his crime wasting five years of her life in prison, she released to catch him cheating with her life savings-her only safety net. Now she's done, her walls of steels are built and nobody can get through not even her charismatic and insanely hot next door neighbor everything she shouldn't want and he can't seem to stop staring at her, he offers her a job just as she's short on rent and she's too cornered to say no. When her past comes to haunt her she finds herself running into his arms but as buried truths unravel and lies crumble as she's left to question if he was the danger she should have been running away from in the first place.

In their first life, Vivienne married Prince Adrian and called it hell, while Elena married a poor Alpha’s son, Derek, and used her wisdom to help him become Alpha King—only for Derek and Vivienne to betray and murder her.
When both sisters are reborn, Vivienne rushes to steal Derek, believing she has taken Elena’s glorious future and left Elena with the cold, cruel prince.
But Elena knows a good life is not handed over by a husband or a throne.
Forced to become Adrian’s Luna Princess, she quietly rebuilds everything with her own intelligence and strength.
While Vivienne’s stolen sweet dream gradually turns into a nightmare, will the “terrible” prince becomes any different？

What do you do when you are bound to two of the most powerful kings in the world? One drinks your blood. One owns your soul.

I am Danika, a young woman treated like a servant in my own werewolf pack. When I accidentally kill the Alpha, I am forced to flee into a dangerous territory called the Bloodied Kingdoms, where I immediately encounter its terrifying ruler, the Bloodied King. A powerful, instant connection sparks between us, and I become his blood host, his source of life force.

But I am also the rejected mate of the werewolf king.

Now both kings want me. Do I choose one, or claim them both?

"Sign the paper. You get the money to save your family, and I get to stay on the ice. It’s strictly business."

Chloe lost everything in a single night. Her wicked step-family stole her grandmother's medical fund, and she just caught her boyfriend kissing her stepsister in the campus library.

At the edge of expulsion, Ryder, the wealthy, dangerous, and ruthless captain of the university hockey team facing a massive suspension right before the championship, offered her an ironclad contract.

No feelings, no real kisses. Just tutoring and public appearances.

But as late-night study sessions heat up and the boundaries begin to blur, what happens when the ruthless hockey god decides he wants to rewrite the rules and play for keeps?

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

When humanity’s last survivors are forced to fight for a place on the new world, love becomes the most dangerous weapon of all.
Red Harts never asked to be chosen for Savage Glory, a brutal arena designed by AIs to decide who deserves to live on Planet Minerva.
But when she meets Aamon everything changes.
They were never meant to love each other.
She’s the Tank; the shield of humanity.
He’s the Assassin; the blade designed to end her.
Thrown into Savage Glory, a survival arena ruled by machines, Red and Aamon must fight side by side... or against each other. Every heartbeat between them defies the code written in their blood and metal.
But in a world where only one can survive, love becomes a rebellion.
And sometimes, surviving means breaking the system that built you.
Two hearts. One arena.
To love... is to risk everything.

The folder slid across the table toward Hannah's husband. Sign here. Family helps family.

What the Whitfields never once thought to wonder was that the quiet daughter-in-law they'd spent four years bleeding had almost three million dollars they couldn't see.

She'd hidden it for one reason: to keep the only good man in that family from being turned into their wallet.

Now they wanted his signature. His house. His name on their debt.

They had spent a lifetime underestimating the quiet one.

They were about to learn what that costs.

I'm an OB-GYN. On Valentine's Day, I pulled a ring out of a woman's vagina.

It turned out to be my husband's wedding ring.

An hour before, he'd texted me. Said he loved me. Said he was too busy with work to come home.

I wanted a divorce. Needed one. But then I found out—our marriage was never registered.

In his manor, I was nothing. Just a fake wife.

He grabbed me by the throat—right in front of his mistress. Called me "damaged goods." Said I'd spent a year in another man's house.

But that year, I went as a hostage in his place.

I ran. Made it to the cliff's edge, covered in blood. And the man who saved me? The mafia godfather who'd held me captive that whole year.

He looked at me. "Marry me."

In my past life, I was tricked into a trap by my neighbor, my leg broken, and thrown into acid rain to die. Reborn, I returned to nine months before the acid rain apocalypse. Meteorites struck, radiation contaminated, water sources dried up, and civilization collapsed. I still had one last chance to save myself and reverse the future. When I mortgaged my house, borrowed heavily from loan sharks, and finally found the water purification engineer whom everyone considered crazy, I was met with merciless ridicule. Faced with humiliation, I simply smiled faintly—"Do you know when water is more precious than gold?"

I thought my husband was my salvation.
Until I overheard him in the wine cellar, laughing and joking with my "attackers" from that night.
The gang rape that destroyed me was a show he orchestrated himself.

He married me only for inheritance rights.
He humiliated me, branded me, took away my child, and made my life a living hell.
But he forgot one thing—
The ancient blood oath of the Corleone family states clearly:
If a husband betrays his marriage, everything he owns shall belong to his wife.

This time, I'm no longer the rabbit waiting to be slaughtered.
This time, I write the ending.

The day my wife, Hollywood’s newly crowned Best Actress, landed an S-tier deal, she arrogantly tossed a separation agreement in my face.

“I’m moving into Beverly Hills. A salaried office worker like you will only drag down my status. If you can’t come up with a ten-million-dollar mansion, then get out of my life.”

She thought she had latched onto a media tycoon, and eagerly signed the “fake divorce loan” agreement I had tailored just for her.

What she didn’t know was that I wasn’t just the pathetic husband she thought I was. I was also a quantitative strategist from Wall Street, a man who could turn the markets upside down.

That ten million dollars became the seed capital I used to short the tycoon backing her.

When she was ruined at her movie premiere, burdened with crushing debt, and crawled barefoot like a stray dog up to the hillside mansion, begging hysterically for me to remarry her, I was already toasting a successful acquisition with my Wall Street partner.

Then I watched coldly as the security guards threw her into the Los Angeles night like a piece of rotten industrial waste.

I was employee No.001, building his startup with him right from the garage.
Then a subordinate draped in an IvyLeague aura arrived, and he pushed me ruthlessly aside.
Crushed by betrayal, I fled eight hundred miles to Seattle and rebuilt my career at a rival tech giant. When anonymous online smears sought to ruin my reputation, I unmasked every one of her lies.
He fell from his CEO throne. I stepped into my welldeserved spotlight, and I will never be anyone’s second choice.

I think I'm dead.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself standing in an abandoned amusement park, and my body was sitting on that slowly turning carousel.

I was only ten years old. I don't know how I died.

Detective Sarah, the blonde officer, promised to find the truth. So I followed her, watching her peel away layer after layer of lies—

In my diary, I wrote down all my fears and all my waiting.

On the phone, Mom sent that video of me laughing.

In the autopsy report, evidence of long-term abuse filled every page.

Mom had been saving money for three years, saying she'd take me away. That afternoon she picked me up from school and said, "We're really leaving this time."

Then what happened? Why did I die at the amusement park? Why was Mom's first reaction after my death not to call the police, but to—

I thought Mom came to save me.

Until I saw the text message she sent...

In my past life, my Mafia Don husband left me and our unborn baby to burn just to save my half-sister.

Reborn, I watched him crush my fingers in a door to protect her once again.

"Hurt her, and we get a divorce," he sneered.

He thought the threat would break me. He didn't know his signature was already on the divorce papers hidden in my bag.

On the day of their lavish wedding, I took the hand of his deadliest rival, looked down from a helicopter, and pressed the detonator to his estate.

In my past life, I kindly took in my girlfriend and brother, only to be pushed into a torrent of acid rain and melted alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back a month before the apocalypse, only to find that my girlfriend had also been reborn! She was secretly plotting on the balcony to drain my assets to build her and her best male friend's post-apocalyptic love nest? I scoffed, decisively sold all my possessions, and bought a private island in the Pacific to build a top-tier fortress. When the mutated red rain descended and zombies swept the globe, I sipped iced whiskey in a temperature-controlled greenhouse, quietly watching that despicable couple starve and die in their Los Angeles penthouse, tearing each other apart like wild dogs for survival…

My pre-wedding party was in full swing.

 

Yet, the center of attention wasn't me, but Julian's childhood sweetheart, Blair. She had just announced she was auctioning off her "first kiss."

 

My fiancé, Julian, bought that kiss without a second thought.

 

Amidst the roaring cheers of the crowd, they locked lips. They looked like the perfect match, made in heaven.

 

In that moment, I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene.

 

I casually pulled out my phone and replied to the email from the Paris headquarters: "I accept. I am ready to start immediately."

I made Sebastian Grant date me for a year because I'd saved his life.
Even though he couldn't stand me, I pressed myself against him when he tried to leave, traced my fingers down his chest when he turned away.
When his friends talked trash, I left marks on his neck and sent him out where everyone could see them.
Then an anonymous text arrived: [I'm the one you saved that day. Not Sebastian.]
The photo attached turned my face white.
What would Sebastian do when he found out?

On my birthday, my husband hands me a snow-white hamster with a smile and says keeping it in the house will bring us good luck.

My seven-year-old son names it Snow.

But the second I see its red eyes, my blood runs cold.

Because in my last life, I got the exact same gift on this exact same day.

Back then I treated it like something precious. I fed it the best food, bought it the biggest cage, cleaned out the shavings every single day.

And every night it burrowed into my blankets, bit through the skin at my wrist and my throat, and drank my blood a little at a time until there was almost none left.

I begged my husband to get rid of it. All he said was that I was paranoid, that I was faking being sick to get attention.

My son planted himself in front of the cage and screamed that Snow was better behaved than me.

Then, on our wedding anniversary, I collapsed in the bathroom and never woke up.

My spirit drifted near the ceiling, and only then did I finally see it.

That hamster climbed down off my body and turned into a woman in a white dress, and threw herself into my husband's arms.

His eyes went red and he said now that she'd drained me dry, she could finally take her real shape again.

My son ran to her and sweetly called her "Hamster Mommy."

It turned out the thing was my husband's old love, the one who'd died young. He'd used black magic to hide her inside a pet's body.

And I was nothing but a container. A blood supply.

Now my eyes are open again, and the cut on my finger is still warm.

This time, I won't let a single one of them get away.

Six days after Alexander lost all contact, I navigated my way alone to the Nightfall Gala to find him.

The guard's expression twisted into something peculiar when he heard my purpose.

"You're saying you are looking for your mate, Prince Alexander? And what is your name?"

"I am Cecilia."

The guard let out a harsh, mocking snort. "Stop causing a scene! A blind beggar trying to pull a scam? Don't think you can just impersonate her just because you know the name of the Prince's mate."

"Everyone knows the Prince just gifted Cecilia the millennia-old Abyssal Night Crystal to celebrate her pregnancy! What the hell are you?"

Just then, the giant LED screen cut to the Gala's live broadcast.

"Allow me to formally introduce my partner, Cecilia. Furthermore, she is expecting. Our family is about to welcome a new heir." It was Alexander's voice.

"Thank you all. This is the greatest gift Alexander and I could ever receive."

The moment that sweet, timid voice echoed through the hall, a string violently snapped in my brain. A sharp ringing pierced my eardrums.

—It was the voice of my twin sister, Elena.