4654 Book(s) Related to my in-laws are obsessed with me spoiler

“Your place has always been beside me.”

Mara believed those words until she realized she was the only one still fighting for their marriage.

Betrayed by her Alpha husband Damon and abandoned during the moment she needed him most, Mara loses her child, her trust, and the future she once dreamed of.

But the fire that destroyed her old life also awakened a new one.

Saved by Ronan Vale, the mysterious and commanding Lycan King, Mara discovers a world where she doesn’t have to beg for love or prove her worth.

Ronan protects her, respects her, and sees the power she has always carried inside.

Now Damon wants back the Luna he once ignored.

But some wounds cannot be healed with apologies.

And when the truth behind that tragic night begins to surface, Mara must decide whether she will remain the abandoned Luna of the past...

Or become the queen she was always meant to be.

For three years, I was Adrian Vale's kept woman.
Pretty, useless, and so thoroughly spoiled that even his sister said I wouldn't survive three days without the Vales. I didn't bother arguing. Before I met Adrian, I'd been chair of the Global Financial Order Council. That job had nearly worked me to death. Now I didn't have to set an alarm or use my brain, and my monthly allowance ran to eight figures. Who in her right mind would give that up?
Then twelve overseas funds joined forces to short Vale Group. Adrian's father was forced out. His two older brothers were taken into custody. And Adrian, who had always been able to fix anything, found himself at a negotiating table with a pen pressed into his hand and a demand to surrender every share he owned.
One of the fund managers across the table looked me over and smiled. "Don't worry, Mr. Vale. Once your family’s bankrupt, we’ll take good care of your little songbird."
I was quiet for a long moment. If the Vales went under, where was I supposed to find another man this generous?
So just as Adrian was about to sign, I took the seat at the head of the table and called a number I hadn't used in ten years.
"Halt trading across the European markets. And tell the heads of these twelve funds to get here within thirty minutes and explain themselves—on their knees."

In a zombie apocalypse, survivors build a fortress-like base. My girlfriend and I are its lead researchers, racing to create the serum that could end the world’s collapse.

On a sampling run outside the walls, she chooses to save the “genius” colleague she just brought back—and leaves me behind to be swallowed by a horde.

With no way out, I inject myself with an unfinished prototype. I survive… but I come back as a zombie.

The difference is: I don’t lose my mind. I keep my human intelligence—and I can command other zombies. They bow instinctively, as if they’ve sensed a king.

Inside the base, that so-called genius is working with raiders beyond the walls, pushing a fake serum to control the troops and selling the defenses piece by piece to the enemy.

As the base collapses, the drugged soldiers turn on each other atop the ramparts. The chain of command snaps. Everyone is waiting to die.

Then—at the moment the walls give way and screams drown out gunfire—I stand on the ruins outside, raise my hand, and sweep it forward.

The horde behind me doesn’t attack the survivors. Like a disciplined army, it bypasses them and surgically crushes every invader.

Only then does the woman who abandoned me realize what she destroyed.

But I don’t need her regret anymore.

The day I achieved telepathic breakthrough, I heard my fiancée's inner voice telling me to "get lost."
In the restaurant, she abandoned me as I coughed up blood to embrace another man.
I signed the death contract for the meat grinder frontline, determined to die, but when bone spikes pierced through my chest, my telepathy revealed the truth—she pushed me away not because she didn't love me, but because she had been bitten by a zombie three years ago.

On the third day after the Ice Age began on Earth, the temperature plummeted to minus fifty degrees Celsius, and human civilization disintegrated in the extreme cold.

My name is Anson, an ordinary convenience store clerk. After the apocalypse broke out, I risked my life to drive to pick up my mother-in-law Martha and her family and take them to a shelter.

Along the way, I unexpectedly discovered a large supermarket with abundant supplies, and I collected supplies with my wife Erin, mother-in-law Martha, father-in-law George, and brother-in-law Tom.

Just as we were about to leave with two trucks full of life-saving supplies, my mother-in-law, Martha, tricked me into going deep into the warehouse to move some goods. Then they locked the iron gate and drove away, leaving me to die in the supermarket surrounded by icy beasts.

In that moment of despair and waiting for death, the [Ice Fishing System] activated in my mind...

"She endured hardships with you back then just for your current net worth of a billion dollars. You must use the absolute 50/50 treatment to cure the 'poverty disease' in her bones."

After my husband's childhood friend Chloe returned from abroad, she brainwashed my husband, Ethan.

From then on, he demanded we split everything 50/50. Whether it was eating, sleeping, or doing household chores, even though I was pregnant, I had to pay half the cost.

Until one day I was hit by a car. Blood from a threatened miscarriage dripped all over the emergency room. The nurse held the bill, urging urgently: "Twenty thousand deposit to save the baby! Any slower and you'll miscarry!"

Ethan took out a black card, his voice ice-cold: "According to our 50/50 rule, I'm only paying my ten thousand."

I didn't cry or make a fuss. I simply took the ten thousand he gave me and got an abortion.

In order to prolong the life of my supposedly sick "white moonlight" (my love interest), my wife forced me onto the operating table and removed my kidney while I was still alive.

To force me to leave with nothing, she even cut off my mother's medication, coldly declaring, "Your mother is just a liability that deserves to be optimized."

She thought I would wag my tail and beg for mercy like a stray dog.

Little did she know, suffering from single kidney failure, I transformed myself into the deadliest viral code before my death, dragging her business empire and that male mistress into an inescapable hell.

On the day the truth came to light, the once-powerful tech queen went completely mad. She squandered her fortune, kneeling in the frost of the morgue, kowtowing and weeping blood, begging me to look at her one last time. But she couldn't find a single hair of mine.

Because I had already made a will, ordering my remains to be cremated as high-risk medical waste.

She treated me like dirt when she was alive, and after she died, I found her disgusting and didn't even bother to leave her a handful of ashes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

My hands froze mid-air.

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

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

Two years later. The International Ballet Finals.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I died on the barren wasteland in a raging blizzard.
Before my death, many from the pack came to say goodbye.
Even Seraphina, my lifelong rival, came.
Only Kael, my Alpha mate of five years, was absent.
He was with that rogue Jennifer, watching the moon's reflection in Silver Moon Falls.
In my final moments, I received his mind-link.
"When the Moon Goddess guided me to find you as my fated mate, you were just a Beta. To inherit the Alpha position, I had no choice but to choose you. All these years I've been giving you suppressants, forbidding you from getting pregnant, and you agreed to it all. You've been a competent Luna."
"If there's a next life, I'll still choose you. In this life, rest in peace. I'll personally arrange your funeral."
Sensing this mind-link, my rival Seraphina sneered mockingly: "Karolyn, you really weren't cut out to be a Luna."
"In the next life, don't compete with me anymore."
Her words proved prophetic. When I opened my eyes again, we had both returned to the day of the Darkwood family's mate selection ceremony.
Kael said coldly: "Karolyn, the Moon Goddess has chosen you as my fated mate. You will be Darkwood's Luna."
Without hesitation, I stepped back and pointed to Seraphina.
"I think the Luna position is better suited for Seraphina."

"Call me brother," he whispered, pressing me against the wall, his erection hard against my stomach.
For twelve years, we played this dangerous game. By day, I was his obedient foster sister. By night, I was his obsession.
He never went all the way—saving me for marriage, he claimed—but he did everything else. His fingers knew every wet corner of my body. His mouth had tasted my pleasure a thousand times. He groomed me to be the perfect toy for his bed.
"You're mine, Julie. Only mine."
But then Lena came back.
Suddenly, the bedroom door was locked. Suddenly, I heard her screams of pleasure instead of mine.
He didn't touch me anymore. He looked at me with cold, dead eyes and said, "You're just a sister. Stop acting like a jealous lover."
He threw away twelve years of intimacy for a fresh body.
I packed my bags, leaving behind the lingerie he bought me, the toys we used.
When he finally realized Lena was a fake, he came running back, eyes wild, wanting to claim what he thought was still his property.
"Spread your legs for me, Julie," he begged, reaching for me.
I slapped his hand away. "Go fuck your sister, Daniel. I'm done."

My best friend Bella had a cluster of mushrooms growing on her back, every color you could imagine.

They throbbed like something alive, and the smell coming off them was like nothing I'd ever smelled.

She called it Moonlight Bloom, a gift straight from Viscount Lucas himself.

If she kept that thing on her body for forty days, not one more, not one less, until it bloomed its brightest spores, the viscount would marry her and take her into his estate.

So she refused to shower. Wouldn't let a drop of water touch her.

Everyone in the pack knew me as the one who always looked out for people, and I figured she'd been cursed with dark magic. So one night while she slept, I grabbed a bucket of soapy water and a stiff brush and scrubbed that thing clean off her back.

The next morning, she ran her hand over the raw patch of skin where it used to be, grabbed a silver dagger, and drove it straight through my heart.

"You jealous bitch! You just ruined my whole future!"

Bleeding out on the floor, that's when it hit me. She never cared how disgusting that thing was, or what it was doing to her body. All she cared about was marrying into money and status.

When I opened my eyes again, I'd gone back in time.

This time around, I decided I wasn't going to stick my nose where it didn't belong. I was going to sit back and watch that mushroom grow.

I was a billionaire's canary. Never asked for it — but every time I slept with him, he paid another chunk of my mom's medical bills. Later he made me his secretary, and stupidly, I thought we'd built something real. Turns out I was wrong. He drained my entire savings to buy his mistress a $500K necklace. "What do you mean, your money?" he sneered. "Every penny came from me." I begged. He laughed. Then the hospital called: Mom didn't make it. That's when I stopped being anyone's canary — and started billing him back, in full.

I was diagnosed with hemophilia when I was ten years old.
At first, my parents were terrified. They watched me closely, rushed me to the hospital over every bruise, every nosebleed. I was the fragile one—the child who needed saving.

Then years passed.
They got used to it.
They got tired.

By the time my twin sister was graduating and my family was finally breathing again, I was about to turn eighteen.
And that night, while everyone believed I’d be fine like always, I bled to death.

Everyone says I'm lucky— a noble lady from the Miller family, doors open for me when I walk out, heads bow when I come home.
But deep down, I know the truth. I live like a “spare”: covering for my father’s mistakes, taking the fall for my stepsister.
Even the bodyguard I thought I could rely on is only here for Emma.
I caught him using Emma's photo to relieve himself, heard his Underboss mock him for acting as a bodyguard to me, just to make Emma feel his heart.
He was my bodyguard, yet when danger struck, he shielded Emma.
When I lashed out at him, punishing him for Emma’s faults, he secretly returned the favor, giving me ninety-nine lashes in retaliation.
Finally, I agreed to marry into the Jones Family and became the “vegetative Don’s” wife.
I took the money, moved to Manhattan, and became the most dignified Mrs. Jones: keeping watch over a mute husband, at least no longer having to worry about a knife in my heart.

Before the wedding, my fiancé, Alpha Kendrick, stood in front of me. Hesitation flickered in his eyes, but so did hope.
“Can you give me a month?” he asked, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.
A month. Time to see if he could patch things up with Elena Manwaring—his ex-girlfriend. His fated mate.
“If it works out,” he continued, the words deliberate, like he was convincing himself as much as me, “then it’s the Moon Goddess’s blessing. But if it doesn’t… I’ll come back. I’ll marry you. And I’ll leave her behind—forever.”
He meant it. He truly believed this was the honorable thing to do.
I didn’t argue. I didn’t cry. Instead, I let a small, knowing smile tug at my lips.
“Go ahead,” I said, my voice calm and steady. “Give it a try. Life’s too short for regrets, right?”
Relief broke over his face like a wave, as though I’d just untangled him from a chain he hadn’t known how to break. That night, he drove off, lighter than I’d seen him in months.

-WARNING-This story may contain content that some may find disturbing.

“If you can’t satisfy me with your mouth, then you’ll have to satisfy me some other way.”

He ripped off her flimsy clothing and tossed the shredded fabric aside. Visenya panicked as she realized exactly what he was implying.

“Let me try again…with my mouth. I think I c...”

“Quiet!” His voice echoed off the walls of his bedchamber, silencing her on the spot.

This wasn’t the way she had imagined her first time would be. She pictured passionate kisses and gentle caresses from a man who loved and cherished her. Lucian wouldn’t be loving, and he certainly didn’t cherish her either. She had been cursed with a mate who was bent on revenge, wanting nothing more than to watch her suffer.


Ten years had passed since Dragons ruled over the world…since Visenya took her place as Lycan Queen. Vampires were forced into the shadows now that hunting and enslaving humans was punishable by death. The world was finally at peace…until Dragon Lord, Lucian woke from his induced sleep to discover that his entire race had been massacred by Visenya’s father. Visenya is stripped of her kingdom and forced to live out the rest of her days as Lucian’s slave. The cruelest joke of all is, Visenya learns that the mate she has been so faithfully waiting for all these years, is none other than the vengeful Dragon Lord himself.

Consumed by their hatred for each other, is it enough to fight the intense mate bond between them? Will Lucian push Visenya to her absolute limit, just to regret it all in the end?

There has never been a female Alpha until Amani Constantine. She was once the future Alpha of the Bloodmoon pack—a pack that was completely annihilated under the order of the Alpha King. In one night, Amani lost her parents and entire pack, spared only for being the fated mate of Prince Malakai, the son of the Alpha King and heir to the throne. She despises the Alpha King and harbors equal animosity towards Malakai, who is determined to mold Amani into the most obedient mate. However, submission goes against Amani’s very nature; she is an Alpha through and through, but she is a wolf-less Alpha, unable to shift. Branded as a defect, a flaw, and an abomination to their kind, Amani struggles with her identity. When the wolf inside her finally awakens, will she stand by her mate’s side and ascend as the next Luna Queen? Or will Amani step into her role as the Alpha she was destined to be and seek her revenge for the slaughter of Bloodmoon?

Kaelani spent her life believing she was wolfless.
Cast out by her pack. Forgotten by the Lycans.
She lived among humans—quiet, invisible, tucked away in a town no one looked at twice.

But when her first heat comes without warning, everything changes.

Her body ignites. Her instincts scream. And something primal stirs beneath her skin—
summoning a big, bad Alpha who knows exactly how to quench her fire.

When he claims her, it’s ecstasy and ruin.

For the first time, she believes she’s been accepted.
Seen.
Chosen.

Until he leaves her the next morning—
like a secret never to be spoken.

But Kaelani is not what they thought.
Not wolfless. Not weak.
There is something ancient inside her. Something powerful. And it’s waking.

And when it does—
they’ll all remember the girl they tried to erase.

Especially him.

She’ll be the dream he keeps chasing… the one thing that ever made him feel alive.

Because secrets never stay buried.
And neither do dreams.

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

My Big Bad Wolf Series: Elysia & Alex-Book 1 (Nocturnal Collections)

She broke into his mansion. Now she’s trapped in his world.

A cunning thief with nothing to lose.
A powerful Alpha with everything to protect.
When Elysia Crinshaw is caught stealing from Alex Landry, she doesn’t go to jail, she’s claimed. Drawn into his world, she learns that freedom can be more dangerous than chains…and love more brutal than any cage.

I bled for her company.
Literally.
Seventy-two hours straight at the keyboard until my nose dripped blood onto the keys.
She couldn't answer thirty calls while I lay dying—she was too busy riding her boy toy in Cabo.
So I did what any good programmer does with corrupted files.
I hit delete.
On everything.
Her access. Her code. Her future.
What I built, I could destroy.

Missing for five years, I dragged my slightly crippled left leg back to the slums.

Only to see my once-gentle wife wearing a cheap, fraying apron, being mercilessly humiliated in front of a greasy sink.
My five-year-old son was cowering beside a pile of garbage, clutching a broken toy, trembling in fear.

A high-and-mighty tycoon slapped a three-million-dollar IOU across my face. A thug kicked a plate of rancid, rotting meat scraps to my feet, sneering, "Lick it clean, and I'll waive ten thousand in interest."

Desperate to protect me, my wife pushed me away, only to be brutally kicked into the muddy water by a bodyguard, revealing a back covered in a suffocating, horrific lattice of burn marks and whip scars.

Everyone thought I was just a crippled piece of trash—a useless man who couldn't even protect his own wife and child.
That was, until I reached into my coat and pulled out a black satellite phone that had gathered dust for five years.

"Disable Ghost Silence Protocol. Initiate full takeover."

That night, eight heavy attack helicopters tore through the clouds, blotting out the sky.
Hundreds of fully armed, elite special operatives descended from above. Dropping to one knee in the freezing mud, they roared in unison: "Welcome back, Young Master!"

The entire city’s municipal assets, the police force, the underworld—both the light and the dark—could be reduced to ashes with a single thought from me.

I took off my tattered jacket and draped it gently over my wife's trembling shoulders. Then, I crushed the tycoon's mechanical prosthetic limb with my bare hands. My voice was calm, yet it sent a chilling shockwave through everyone present:

"Three million? I just did the math on the scars you owe my wife..."
"Now, you owe me thirty billion."

The apocalypse arrives, rain stops worldwide, outdoor temperatures soar to 60 degrees Celsius, and everyone fights and loses their humanity over a single drop of water.
But I gave away dozens of cases of bottled water that I had stockpiled at home to my neighbors downstairs for free.
People laughed at my overflowing compassion; my wicked ex even hoarded two tons of water, waiting to see me thirsty and begging her on my knees like a dog.
But what they didn't know was that I didn't need water at all.
Because I'm not human.

"Get out of here with your dying bastard!"
My son suddenly fell critically ill, and the only matching organ was locked in my wife's family's cold storage. I stormed into the company with my critically ill child, only to be met with a severe suspension notice.
Everyone thought I was some lowly social outcast, someone they could crush at any moment.
Until I pulled out that dusty badge, my father-in-law, who controlled a New York business empire, was so terrified that he cleared the room on the spot, his legs going weak.
"Arrange surgery for my son immediately." I looked at him coldly. "If he misses the optimal transplant window, I guarantee your entire family, and this city, will be executed for him."

I spent six years trying to warm an emotionally distant husband and raising a son who learned to copy his coldness. On the day my civil assault case went to trial, they flew to Switzerland to comfort my husband's ex-girlfriend. When my five-year-old admitted he had deleted the strongest video evidence because he didn't want Vanessa to cry, the last bit of love in me went quiet. By the time they realized a wife and mother could stop chasing them, I had already chosen divorce, distance, and a life that belonged to me.

Before the apocalypse in my previous life, my adopted sister blindly believed an online post claiming an extreme global freeze was coming. She forced me to spend everything on raw meat and heavy winter gear. When the "Extreme Heat" apocalypse actually arrived, all her supplies rotted into putrid waste. To vent her frustration, she locked me in a cage and left me to be baked alive in the scorching heat.
Reborn, I smiled and helped her hoard ten tons of raw meat and heavy leather jackets, watching as she dreamed of becoming the Queen of the Wasteland...

I waited two years for a donor heart. When one finally came, my husband gave it to Odette Ashworth, the girl who had been living my life.
My cardiologist gave me one week. So I made arrangements to have my body cryopreserved.
And I donated it to the very lab where Odette worked.
The day I signed the papers, my son threw his arms around me and said he was so glad Mommy and Aunt Odette were friends again.
My parents told me they were proud I'd finally learned what it means to be a sister.
My husband smiled, relieved, and said I'd finally let go of my grudges and started being reasonable.
I smiled back. They were right. This time, I really had learned my place.
I was going to hand the Ashworth name back to Odette and give every last one of them exactly what they wanted.

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

"I need an accident—one that looks fatal," I said calmly into the encrypted phone. "It's the only way to escape him."
Rumors swirl that this man—the underworld boss who controls half of Europe’s shadow economy—loves me beyond reason.
They say he defied his entire family for me. That this ruthless killer laid down his weapons just to cook me a meal.
For years, he made the world believe I was his one weakness—and even I almost believed it.
But instinct in a life-or-death moment doesn’t lie.
When bullets shattered the car window, he yanked the steering wheel on reflex—shielding my adopted sister in the passenger seat while leaving me, his wife, fully exposed to the hail of gunfire.
As I lay bleeding, desperately trying to protect our unborn child… he was busy cradling her in his arms.
While I endured everything for our future, he signed over the estate—the one he promised would be our retire place—to that lying sister.
That’s when I knew: some loves are just performances for the living.
So I gave him exactly what he wanted.
I left behind a positive pregnancy test—six weeks along—and drove straight into the deep ocean, staging the most brutal finale right before his eyes.

The dealership called to inform me that my Rolls-Royce Starlight Headliner had been replaced with a pink one and was ready for pickup.
I was bewildered. I hadn't driven that car in ages—why would anyone change the headliner without my knowledge?
I confronted my husband, who managed our garage, demanding an explanation.
"Honey, maybe they got their wires crossed. I'll swing by the dealership later and sort it out."
I wasn't about to waste my breath. Instead, I called my friend directly—she happened to own the dealership.
"William's having an affair. I'm going to catch him red-handed."

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

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

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

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

I once thought an arranged business marriage was already the end of the road.
I never imagined the real trap would be giving my heart to the wrong people.
My husband, Ethan, the man I had loved with everything I had, and Chloe, my best friend, the woman I once treated like a little sister, worked together to push me off a cliff.
My face was destroyed.
For three years, I crawled my way back from hell and rebuilt myself from the bones up.
I changed my face. I had myself made into the image of his dead mother.
Then, step by step, I planned my return and married his aging father, Victor.
At our wedding, I looked at Ethan and Chloe’s bloodless faces. My smile was gentle, but every inch of it was laced with poison.
Then I said softly, “Call me Mom.”

Five years into my marriage, I took off my Donna necklace at the Rossi family’s New Year’s Eve banquet and Noah still thought I could never leave him.
He stood by the long table with his mistress, Amelia, and said in front of every capo, “Some people will never measure up to her. Not even close.”
I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I just turned and walked away. On my way out, my cousin Lucas, my fixer, handed me a cup of coffee.
Three days later, he brought me two pieces of news.
Amelia was four months pregnant. And Noah was trading family territory to get his bastard child recognized by the family.
“What are you going to do?” Lucas asked.
I stared out the window, thinking about the red lipstick stain on Noah’s shirt. Thinking about the smug look in his eyes when he told me, “I only helped her because I felt sorry for her.”
“Wait,” I said. “Wait until they think they’ve won.”
What Noah didn’t know was I was still holding one last trump card.

A supportive brother gets to live a new life as one of the main characters in a Boy Love Game as “Gilbert Bedivere,” the son of a duke, who was his family’s pride.

His goal for this life is that he will have a slow living lifestyle, staying far away from problems.

But who would have known that getting too close to the main characters, who are his friends and his younger brother, would lead him away from the goal he has set!

Who are those main characters surrounding him…?

Hareve Lancelot… a white-haired boy with rainbow eyes who makes all the girls go crazy, as expected of the owner of the famous SM route and the user of the light magic. Even though he looks cold on the outside, who would have known he is super hot-tempered!

Nigel Gawain… an adorable-looking boy with silver eyes, the owner of the 3P route, but who would have known that he is just a fluffy boy!

Cass Bedivere… the protagonist of the game, with his golden eyes and hair, appears in the immoral love route. Even though he was born with dark magic, who would have known that he also has interesting relationships with other characters.

Not to mention many other characters that Gilbert has never met,

He now feels the problems lining up for him!

In the year 2333, humanity has fallen and ruled by werewolves. Bellatrix Sinclair, an 18-year-old weapons prodigy that despises werewolves for destroying her family has been secretly planning to join the human rebellion.
However, she is forced into the Mate Selection Process and matched with Lazarus De Loughrey, the ruthless Werewolf King obsessed with claiming her.
He shouldn't want her and she should hate him but they cannot resist each other. It's a twisted connection, entirely physical because all I am is his slave.
My heart should belong to my best friend Emmett, a human. Atleast the guilt of betrayal wouldn't be eating away at my insides.


“Yes please.” She begs.
“Then fucking let me in.” I growled, this fury exploding with vengeance. I wanted to destroy her pussy.
It was maddening, it was sickening, it was barbaric.
But I never claimed to be saint.
“Here that baby, that’s the sound of your greedy pussy sucking on my cock. Give me more, drench me.”
“Lazarus.” She moans painfully, “Please let me come.”
I’m doused in gasoline and set alight, sweat coats my skin as I pound into her faster and harder. I’m definitely hurting her, “Wanna come?” I rasped, “Not until I say so.”
Pressing my lips onto hers, pushing my tongue into her mouth until I feel the sweetness of hers. The kiss is sloppy and filthy. She cries as I drive my cock into her, the intensity too much to handle, sweet tears sliding onto her cheeks.
“Fuck yes.” I smile sadistically, licking her tears. “Cry for me Ma Cherie.”
“Please, please let me come My King.” She pleads.
“Say it again.” Lightening shooting down my spine as she begged, “My King, please let me come. I’ll be good.”
I chuckled, “Try your luck to kill me Ma Cherie, I dare you.”

Warning : 21+

"I want you two to make love right in front of my eyes!" He said. My heart neqarly jumped at the sound. Did I mishear or what?

"What do you mean I made love to her? Are you crazy?" Jacob demanded.

"That's my biggest fantasy, Jake! Watching my girlfriend have sex with my best friend or my brother. I wonder if I'll get jealous or join in on the wild game."


Henry William Haydn, a charismatic man of perfection. He became a company director at a young age, living a life of moral values and dignity. But who would have thought that behind the moral wall he always displayed throughout his life, there lurked wild, sometimes unreasonable fantasies.


Amy Evangelista, a simple woman who grew up on the beaches of Bali, realizes her dream of working for a prestigious company in Australia. But her dreams grow even higher when Henry, the company director, is attracted to her simplicity and beauty.


Jacob Andreas Haydn, Henry's cousin, who suffers from a "Brother Complex" and considers Henry the most important person in his life. Jacob, a cold, perfectionist, and sharp-tongued genius, has for months positioned himself as the "Hater" to Amy, whom he considers a stupid woman unworthy of being his beloved brother's girlfriend.

A complicated relationship and crazy love lead them to be trapped in a vortex of traps they call "Fetish"

Her hands slid up to his chest, palms flat, feeling the solid strength beneath his shirt. The fear didn’t vanish completely. But it quieted. Receded into the background. Logan’s thumb brushed her cheek, slow and grounding, as his other hand settled at her waist.

The kiss grew warmer. Slower. Logan felt it too, sharp and electric. His wolf stirred restlessly, recognizing something it shouldn’t, something it wanted to claim even as his mind warned him to stop. He broke the kiss first, breathing hard, forehead resting against hers.

“Emily,” he murmured, strained. “We should—” She didn’t let him finish. Her lips brushed his jaw, tentative, almost questioning. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t send me away.”


After being betrayed forty-eight times by her mate, Oscar, Emily is drugged and offered to powerful wolves for his gain. Desperate and fleeing danger, she collapses into the arms of Lucas Walker, one of seven feared Alpha Brothers who rule the strongest pack. Drawn to her by an unstoppable pull, the brothers vow to protect her. But Emily’s past hides a darker secret, one that fate has bound to all of them.

They say the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. They never said anything about his soul.

I was a culinary prodigy on the verge of global fame until my fiancé and my best friend murdered me with my own carving knife to steal my recipes. My last thought wasn’t of love, but of a burning vow: If I get a second chance, I will serve them their just deserts.

I got my wish.

I woke up not in a morgue, but in the body of an omega slave, Number 74, in the brutal, wolf-ruled kingdom of the Lunar Fang Pack. I was weak, worthless, and slated to die in the kitchens. But they didn’t know who they were dealing with. The soul of a master chef still burned within me.

When I poured my rage and my grief into a simple broth for a dying slave, I discovered a truth that would shatter this world: my emotions are ingredients. My cooking is magic. A stew made with spite can poison. A cake baked with defiance can empower.

Now, my unique gift has drawn the attention of the three most dangerous Alphas in the kingdom.

Emperor Kael, the cursed and ruthless Alpha King
ho woman, not just the weapon.

Commander Cassian, his stoic, lethal protector,

Prince Raze, the visiting rival Alpha

They think I’m a pawn in their game of thrones. A tool to be used and discarded.

They have no idea.

I was betrayed for my recipes once. I’ll be damned if I let a trio of Alphas do it again. My menu is set, and this time, the main course is revenge.

The only question is: which of these powerful wolves will be the first to take a bite?

In my past life, my wife was in a car accident and became a vegetable.

I bankrupted myself trying to save her, going from billionaire to homeless vagrant.

When I finally died mysteriously in prison, I understood the truth:

My wife had been faking her coma all along. She wanted to steal my fortune with her lover—my own brother.

But now I've been reborn.

"Since she's already dead, let's harvest all her organs for donation," I told the doctor.

They told me my daughter drowned. Too much to drink, a slick deck, a terrible accident.

Then they put a number on her, slid the check across the table, and asked me to sign away the right to ever ask how she died.

I signed.

They didn't ask what I'd do after.

I changed my name. I spent three years earning a desk in their building, close enough to hear the man who buried her joke about the father who "made some noise, took the money, and went away."

He doesn't know my face. None of them do.

They thought the money bought my silence.

They have no idea what it bought.

Selena stole my sister's talent and became a saint. To appease her, my family threw my sister into a mass grave. The first thing I did after crawling back from purgatory was to crush Selena's knees. She knelt before my sister's grave, never to rise again. As for the Archbishop of the Privy Council? He would kneel before the thorny cross on my chest too.

I’m a retired Special Forces soldier. After I got out, I handled problems people didn’t want on paper, and I’ve seen enough dirty work to last a lifetime.

When I finally retired for real, I wanted a normal life.

So I came back to the orphanage where I grew up, planning to adopt a quiet seven-year-old boy I’d kept in touch with for years.

But the moment I arrived, I was told he’d already been “adopted.”

I called the family to make sure he was safe. On the line he said, “I’m fine.”
Then I heard it—fingernails tapping in a pattern: three short, three long, three short.

The distress signal I had taught him.

I stormed into the director’s office and forced the truth out: the adoption papers were fake. He wasn’t taken into a home. He was sold.

They think I’m just a returning orphanage worker.
They have no idea what I’ve done out there—and no idea I’m very good at cleaning up this kind of mess.

An epic cold snap struck, causing temperatures to plummet to minus eighty degrees Celsius.
My fiancée and best friend occupied my hillside villa, laughing hysterically as they watched a video of me nearly freezing to death.
In their eyes, once I turned into a solid block of ice, they could rightfully inherit my vast fortune and live in this warm, doomsday Noah's Ark.
But what they didn't know was that the video was n't real at all .
I stood in the temperature-controlled bunker twenty meters below them and cut off their main power.
The hunt was about to begin.

My brother chose my enemy, and the man I loved joined forces with her to sell me into a club.
Pregnancy, miscarriage, imprisonment, beatings—every cry for help I made was dismissed as "just an act."
It wasn't until I was truly dead that they lost their minds, dropping to their knees at my grave and sobbing that they were sorry.
But by then, I could no longer hear them.

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

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

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

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

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

And they expected me to cover the bill.

Fine. Let them go.

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

I was an orphan, and a rare heart condition ate away at me for twenty years. The night I died in that cold hospital room, a reaper in a black robe came for me.

He told me if I crossed into a world of werewolves, into the Moonheart Pack, and made Estelle's family genuinely love me — Estelle being the real daughter who'd died a horrible death there — and if I rewrote the ending where they all went mad and tore each other apart, I'd get my health back for good. A second life.

For twenty years in that body, I loved every single one of them with everything I had.

My husband Rhett was the youngest Alpha the pack had ever had. I mentioned once that I wanted Alaskan wild berries, and he drove a thousand miles overnight to get them. My mother Sylvia, the pack's head healer, made me tonics herself every single day. My father Everett and my brother Callum spoiled me so much the whole pack envied me for it.

I thought I'd actually rewritten my fate. I thought I was the happiest person alive.

Until that night.

I'm carrying a berry pie I baked myself toward the council hall when I hear my mother's voice, flat and cold.

"Estelle's heart is finally in perfect condition. Now's the best time to take it."

"Her heart buys Lila's life. She should be grateful for it." Rhett says it like it's nothing. "Once we take the heart, I'll dissolve the mate bond myself."

So this is it. All that kindness was just to grow a healthy heart for their adopted girl.

Three years. I've spent three years trying to love them, to thaw them out, to change things.

Then let it end here.

My father was thrown in the county jail, and my mother collapsed with illness. I went to beg my husband, Elliot Watt, to step in and save him. Instead, he made me choose.
"We've been married four years and you've never gotten pregnant. Now Paige is carrying my child, and the Watt line can't die out. I have to think of her and the baby."
"Either you stay on as Mrs. Watt in name only, move into the guest room, and let Paige run the house. Or we get divorced."
Paige was an orphan I had taken in. She looked timid and docile, yet she had ended up in bed with my husband.
It was too late to undo. I chose the second option.
Clutching the signed divorce papers, I helped my aging parents back to our hometown, Pine Hollow.
But a single woman attracts gossip. In the daytime, men catcalled me in the street. At night, drunks pounded on the door.
Just when things were at their hardest, Sandra came to see me.
"Kane Cross, down at the end of town, asked me to bring you a proposal."
"He's heard you run a good household. He wants to marry you. He'll take care of your parents, and he's hoping you'll help him raise his son and daughter."

They burned me alive in a corporate lab. Then I woke up ninety days before the world ended.

Six years in the wasteland taught me one brutal truth: the fiancé I trusted sold my power to Apex, signed the order that locked my family outside the gates, and left them to die. Now I'm back in my younger body, with my whole family still alive and ninety days to make sure they stay that way.

I know what's coming. Radiation, acid rain, spore fog, a deep freeze to minus forty, and an eternal night that will swallow what's left of civilization.

So I'm draining every line of credit I can borrow, turning an old Cold War missile silo into a fortress, and filling my pocket dimension with enough supplies to outlast the apocalypse. As for the man who betrayed me? I'm robbing him blind, vault by vault.

"Last time I was too weak to do anything but survive," I told my brother. "This time I'm settling accounts."

But there's one variable I never planned for.

The stranger who died beside me in that reactor—the one who burned through his own life to save mine—is alive again. He's human, he's my new next-door neighbor, and somehow, he's been dreaming about me.

"I have dreamed about you. Repeatedly."

I know what he becomes: the red-eyed monster the entire wasteland fears, the man who saves humanity only to be betrayed and burned by the very people he protected.

This time, I've planned for every disaster, every enemy, every betrayal.

Except him.

Amanda Rousso married Kenneth Chavez for the thought that all her problems when it comes to finances will solve everything, but she is wrong because the moment she said yes to the fixed marriage, her soul was already buried six feet under the ground.

She never thought she would become a pawn in Kenneth’s twisted game, and trapped her in the marriage filled with broken vows and lies. Throughout 5 years of being together, she was able to learn how to love him and obey him, but Kenneth was so abusive and couldn't accept her because, for him, Amanda is the reason why his first love left him. In order to avenge her, she must endure all the cold treatment.

In the darkest moments of her life, Amanda decided to escape, and she stumbled into the arms of Damon Vera, the king of Mafia society who was feared by everyone. Damon pledged to protect her, but with one condition. She will marry Damon.

Now, Amanda must decide. Will she marry Damon to spare her life and run away from her past that keeps hunting her or get entangled in his life and power as if she stepped into another level of prison?