318 Book(s) Related to Me

Excerpt
I fixed my gaze on his crimson red lips, dying to have a taste of them, my mind overwhelmed with lust as I watched water droplets drip from his sexy black locks of hair, down to his pale face. His wet shirt hugged his body in all the right places highlighting his abs and biceps.
Frustrated, I stood on my tiptoes and brought my lips to his, refusing to deny the feelings I harbored for Carlisle anymore. Just as our lips were about to crash, he placed his index finger on my lips.
"You shouldn't..." He said, killing the mood.
"But why?"
"You don't know what you're getting into with me Peyton, you don't know me or what I'm capable of." He turned to leave, but I followed, determined to get an answer.
"Then show me." I stood in front of him, too involved to back out now.

When Riley caught her girlfriend getting married to her proud brother, she felt betrayed, and her family's taunt broke her. In order to hide her hurting soul, Riley picked the man closest to her and declared that he was her fiance. But the man wasn't just any regular guy, he was Alexander Hamilton-Rodriguez. One of the richest CEO in the country.
Alex was having issues with his wife, Quinoa, and thought Riley would be able to help, so he offered her a contract marriage.

Unfortunately, Riley found out that she had just two months to live, at that moment, she wanted something real, and the next closest person to her was Doctor Roland Salad, Quinoa's brother.

A dying Riley needed Roland, and the haunted Alex needed Riley. But Roland wasn't sure of who he wanted, because he was in love with the both of them.

This men is beautiful, beautiful like God's finest masterpiece. Only, now, he was undressed and bound to the bed in an awkward position, and my hand was still against his breast. Hot temperature, hard muscle, through the palm, clearly came.
"Get off me!" The damned woman, tired of living, dared to plot against him!
"If I truly apologize now, will you forgive me?"
Jigyain looked at me uncertainly. The message is simple: You're dead.
"That's a problem. I just came back to life. I don't really want to die."****

Now I am in possession of this body, the people who bullied the old me should be made to pay.***

Lucy Gue, a tech mogul, enters the body of a fake daughter of famous family with the same name! This original fake daughter is ignorant, bullying, all people hate her...... And she has the ball to seduce the "prince" of the first top family of S City! As soon as Lucy Gue came through, she came face to face with the handsome man, who was staring at her with a look of 'You're going to die' and 'You're going to die badly.' The new Lucy Gue does not care his threatens and builds her own golden career by herself, but it seems the "prince" always gets in the way.
“Join me in the business,sweetheart?”
“What? Love me now?”

“Hide! Hide!” I yelled, striking Greg violently in the butt. I sensed his astonishment but I didn’t give a damn. If he loved me, he'd understand I was in a precarious situation. “What the hell's happening?!” Greg screamed but I still pushed him into my wardrobe anyway as Fred's voice echoed through the house. I can't imagine the torment I'd face if I was caught in a relationship with a man. 7 years ago, I worked for the Richardson family with my mother and when I lost her to cancer, I decided to drop out of school. However, luck was on my side or so I thought. The Richardson adopted me as their own but when I thought my life was starting to get better, Fred the true son of the family came into my life. It went downhill from there. I became a sex toy for him and it even got worse when my adoptive father joined his son to make my life a misery. I became traumatic. Not even the sweetest prince charming could woo me into liking him. To hell with every man! I hated them all until Greg came along. He loved me more than I loved myself but what could I do? Both father and son of the Richardson family had issued me a stern warning to shut every man out – I was an exclusive property. Would I ever get a shot at true love when my life’s a living hell?

“Goodnight. I love you”.

I ’m not responding to this one.

Now for that app I need to sign up to, I quickly put on my details then pay the joining fee, I'm approved within seconds. I give them Finn's number and then put my phone on silent and go to sleep.

"Sorry, Mr. Robert, the prisoner refuses to meet with you."

Two months later.

"Sorry, Mr. Robert the prisoner still refuses to meet with you."

Six months later

"Sorry, Mr. Robert, the prisoner is firm and still refuses to meet with you."

One year later.

"Mr. Robert, sorry, we asked, and she refuses to meet with you, persistently."

Two years later.

"Mr. Robert, she doesn't want to see you."

The female guard in uniform politely spoke to the man in front of her.

Upon hearing this, the man paused and then said to the female guard.

"You tell her for me that I will marry her when she comes out."

Anna doesn't believe that a man who has been in love for ten years will betray her.

In the adjournment room, Anna sat sluggishly on the chair. Two days in court left her exhausted.

"Robert, do you really want to push me to hell?"

"Your father pushed my mother into the sea, and I'll make his daughter's life worse than death. It s fair, right?"

Anna eyes were flled with tears, but she stubbornly raised her head and held it back.

When she looked at Robert again, she took on a pleading look and said,

"For the sake of the past ten years we have been together, would you drop your case?"

Robert stood up, looking at her from a high position, coldly snorted.

"Heh, I have been waiting this day for ten years. How could | drop it?"

Looking at her miserable appearance, Robert heart seemed to have cracked a ittle. He frowned, suppressing that feeling, and cruelly said:

"But you still have some time left. Next week is my engagement party with Lily. This is the invitation, and you are welcome to attend."

He dumped the invitation on Scarlet's body with contempt, and walked away without looking back.

Anna looked at the white invitation letter, as if the last ounce of her strength had been taken away. She fell into a chair, and could not even breathe.

When she and Robert were together, he never said he wanted to marry her.

Now he was getting married, and she was going to jail.

Anna hung her head, covered her face with both hands, and let the tears fall all over her cheeks.

When the trial started again, Anna stood quietly at the defendant's table and listened to the judge's statement.

" Defendant!"

Anna came back to her senses, and instead of looking at the judge, she looked at Robert.

Suddenly, she smiled, quiet and well- behaved, just like the first time when they met and she called him "honey' '.

Robert.' heart trembled by her gaze as if something was flowing away.

"Robert., my father is dead, and he had it coming, and I also have to go to jail."

"From now on, we are even! The past ten years, I will pretend I never met you....

Tears broke out from Anna eyes; she turned her head to the judge and said,

"I plead guilty!"

When Travis, Serena's mate, picked her sister over her, she couldn't help but think her fear had come true.

She was denied by her mate.

Choosing the easy way out of the heartbreak, she ran away with no intention of going back. But, it wasn't that easy when her older brother managed to track her down and demanded for her to come home.

And when she does, secrets will pop out and she will find herself in a situation that she never thought would end up in.

When the hospital called, I thought I was going to lose him.

The moment I burst into his room, Nathan was alive, but the way he looked at me, like I was a complete stranger.

"I'm sorry, you are...?"

My husband had forgotten everything. Three years of marriage, from the moment we met to falling in love, all erased.

But what's even more absurd? He stared at his bother Nolan and said, "Did I just... fall in love at first sight with a stranger?"

Listening to him frantically ask Nolan in the hospital room "Is this normal?", a crazy idea suddenly hit me—

Three years ago, Nathan "acquired" me in just three months. From his secretary to his wife, so fast it felt like closing a business deal. I loved him, but something was always missing... like a real courtship, real romance.

Now, he has amnesia.

What if I told him we were just in a contract marriage? That our contract was ending soon and we were about to separate?

I was the mafia king's most treasured "little princess" - until the explosion that claimed my adoptive father and protector. Desperate, I clung to a man who wore his face, only to have him broadcast my desperate love confessions as a joke. The night I reached peak humiliation, the man who should have been buried in Sicily rose from hell.
Vincenzo Benedetti. My god, my ultimate sin. He shattered my replacement boyfriend into nothingness, then pressed bloodstained fingers to my lips. "Done playing games, little one?" His whisper sealed my surrender. "Time to claim you as my queen."

I kept a list. Ninety-eight times my husband chose another woman over me.

Missed birthdays, ruined anniversaries, broken promises—all for his "patient" Sophia, who seemed to have a medical emergency every time we had plans.

"It's just my job, Emma," he would say. "You understand."

Ryan thought he could have his cake and eat it too. He was wrong.

After an incident, I was determined to leave him, and before I left, I gave him an unforgettable "gift."

I'm Freya, and I just experienced the most dramatic three days of my life!
First, I ran my mouth during a livestream and accidentally said things I shouldn't have, then went viral for all the wrong reasons... My parents were so furious they decided to send me away.
Even more ridiculous—they pulled out a childhood betrothal agreement from twenty years ago??
"You need to learn to shut up, he needs to learn to speak up, perfect match!"—Mom's exact words.
So now I've been exiled to Los Angeles to live with some mysterious artist guy named Easton.
I hear he's very quiet, a painter, and supposedly good-looking (I can trust Mom's taste in that department at least).
Anyway, since I got thrown into this situation, I've decided to make the best of it! Maybe I can film a reality show or something?
Let's see what happens!

My fiancé dumped me on his best friend like I was a piece of unwanted inventory.
"Her brain's broken. She doesn't remember you. You take care of her." — The most ironic line I've ever heard, right before I blacked out.
So, I, the infamous "Steel Rose" of the boxing world, decided to play along. I moved into his friend Jordan's—the billionaire's—penthouse and started acting like a scared little bunny who's even terrified of the coffee machine.
But this act… is spiraling out of control.
The way Jordan looks at me is unbearably tender, while the way my ex looks at him is burning with jealousy. My amnesia is fake, but Jordan's feelings… seem terrifyingly real.
Now, my "best friend" is hanging on my ex's arm, waiting to see me fall. What they don't know is: my fists are hard, but my acting skills are even harder.
But the biggest problem is—when Jordan's lips meet mine, I can't tell if this is just part of my revenge plan… or if I'm the one falling for the act.

They say werewolves only love once, love until death.

But when my destined mate chose another woman in a life-or-death moment, when I tore up that sacred contract with my own hands, I finally understood—some loves are destined to end in betrayal.

I am Ainsley Silverstone, heir to the Silver Moon pack. I thought the worst pain was being betrayed, until I awakened memories of my past life and discovered this betrayal had already played out once before, a century ago.

The same choices, the same ending, the same heartbreak.

But this time, I won't make the same mistakes. When the ancient Silver Wolf bloodline awakened within me, when the Northern Snow Wolf King tore apart every enemy for my sake, I finally understood fate's message—

True love isn't destiny's arrangement, but unconditional choice.

Yet when the man who once betrayed me used his life to shield me from a fatal blow, I realized that some debts can only be repaid with a lifetime.

Past life, present life—who is my true mate?

In this world where ancient bloodlines clash with modern hearts, where spy games threaten pack alliances, and where the Moon Goddess's will battles against free choice, I must decide: Will I choose the safety of new love, or risk everything for a second chance at redemption?

Because in the end, some bonds transcend time itself.

And some betrayals... cut deeper than death.

I'm Qiana.

On my eighteenth birthday, I had to walk home from the hospital by myself. I wasn't even fully recovered yet. My family? They were throwing a grand coming-of-age ceremony for my twin sister Stella.

Yes, "her" ceremony. Not "ours."

I've owed her since the day we were born—at least that's what my parents kept telling me. Because I "stole" her nutrition in the womb and made her weak and sickly. So I had to give her everything: toys, friends, opportunities... even Dane, my childhood best friend who once promised to "always protect you."

And I chose to leave that hell they called "home."

I died watching my step-sister smile as I fell to my death. The poison she fed me for years had finally worked, and the world called me a cheating disgrace.
Reborn six months before the Olympics, I'm back with the memory of her betrayal burning in my veins. This time, I see her every sly move coming. This time, I know about the dropper of poison she hides behind her back.
They took my gold, my family, and my life. But they made one mistake: they didn't make sure I was finished.
This time, the gold isn't the prize. It's the weapon. And I will use it to destroy them all.

Friday, 5 PM. New bikini clutched in my hands, my mind filled with visions of a beach weekend with Jason, my personal trainer. Then Enzo drops the bomb: "Anniversary weekend. Need you to organize the VIP files." I've put up with this job for six months straight without a single day off!

Fuming, I swipe his spare key and film myself auctioning off his Italian leather sofa on TikTok. Never expected the video to blow up – and definitely never expected his comment pinned at the top: "Why didn't you include me in the auction?"

In high school, he orchestrated my public humiliation at graduation. Now his fiancée warns me to "watch my employment status," while his competitor slides me an offer with double my salary...

All I wanted was to vent about another ruined weekend. How did I get caught in this CEO's twisted game of love and hate?

Eight years in that basement, and I can still smell the mold. Eight years of chains, beatings, and guards who treated me like an animal. The only kindness came from Damian—slipping me bread crusts and whispering, "Hang in there, Grace. I've got you."
I shot him when I escaped. Left him bleeding on that concrete floor without a backward glance. I had to. I was finally free, finally Grace again instead of just another lab rat. I had my Harvard acceptance letter and a future that was mine.
Except it wasn't. My stepsister somehow got hold of my test scores, my achievements, my entire identity. Suddenly, she was the genius heading to Harvard while my parents beamed with pride. "We're so proud of you, sweetheart."
And standing right beside her? Damian. Clean-cut now, designer clothes, playing the perfect "Yale golden boy." But those eyes—I'd know them anywhere. They weren't the dull gray of our captivity anymore. They were sharp, calculating, and fixed right on me.
He'd found me. After everything I'd done to escape him, to escape that life—he was here. The question was: had he come for revenge, or to drag me back into a cage where he was the only key?

Three years. I thought that would be enough.

Enough to forget the man who never said he loved me. Enough to rebuild my life in this quiet coastal town. Enough to protect my secret, my daughter Rosie.

But when Adrian Smith appeared at the town's flower market, looking at me with those same gray-blue eyes Rosie inherited, I knew it was over.

I thought winning the lottery would save our family. I never imagined it would destroy it.
When Colton held up that $3 million lottery ticket, I cried with relief—no more struggling with rent, finally our kids could have a good life. I even threw a BBQ to celebrate with all our trailer park neighbors.
But he stood on that picnic table and announced to everyone: "Winning this money made me realize I've been settling for a life that's too small. Brandi, I want a divorce."
Then a blonde nail salon worker who looked barely 22 stepped out of a red Camaro: "Hi everyone, I'm Raven, his new girlfriend."
What broke my heart more was my 15-year-old daughter Skylar choosing to go with her father: "Mom, I'm tired of being poor, tired of people calling us trailer trash."
Overnight, I lost my husband, my daughter, my home, even my job. At 33, I was sleeping on my friend's couch with my 8-year-old son, the laughingstock of the entire town.
But when I discovered this nail technician's true identity, everything changed...

I thought I was proving my love when my husband claimed his billionaire family required a "loyalty test"—watching him fake an affair with his pregnant ex-girlfriend for a year. I endured public humiliation, served wine to his mistress at charity galas, and even terminated my own pregnancy because he said it would "complicate the test."
But when I discovered the truth, everything changed. There was no loyalty test. There never had been. The fifteen billion dollar inheritance was already his. The whole charade was just his elaborate plan to gaslight me into disappearing quietly so he could start fresh with Victoria and their baby.
Too bad for him, I graduated summa cum laude from Columbia Business School. And I've been planning my revenge for months.

I thought returning to wealth meant happiness. I was wrong—it was the entrance to hell.
My celebrity husband Ryan uses me as his personal punching bag every night, calling it "method acting." Meanwhile, my perfect sister Stella whispers in his ear: "Ruby did everything during her street years. You need to show her where she belongs."
When I called for help while holding my three-year-old Lily, crying, my family only said: "Tonight is Stella's Golden Globe night. Stop causing drama."
On that final night, as the rope tightened around my neck, I finally understood—
I should never have came home.
Three days after my death, they finally stepped into the mansion. Not to save me, but to confront me about my "disappearance."
Until Lily's trembling finger pointed at that sandbag...

I Thought He Was Dumping Me, So I Asked for the Breakup Settlement First

On my birthday night, Ethan filled the apartment with candles and held out a three-tiered pink cake, his eyes softer than I'd ever seen.

Three years. From the day I saved this broken man off the streets to watching him become a CEO worth hundreds of millions. Three years of him never saying "I love you," never defining what we were.

Until this morning, when I saw the text on his phone:

Sophia: I'm back in the country. Want to see you.

His ex-girlfriend. Perfect, successful, in his league—Sophia.

So when he asked "What do you want for your birthday," I understood—he was negotiating a breakup settlement.

"A two-bedroom apartment downtown," I said. "That way it'll be easier for you going forward."

His face went white.

The cake slammed onto the table. He walked out. Three days of silence.

I shoved that cake to the back of the fridge, couldn't throw it away—just like I couldn't let him go.

Until he saw me having coffee with another guy and stormed in, furiously writing a check to eliminate his "rival."

Until he shoved his phone in my face: "Look at what she actually said!"

Until he asked: "Do you know what was hidden inside that cake?"

I didn't just ruin a birthday.

I ruined the surprise he'd spent a month planning.

I'm marrying the man who carries my dead brother's heart. But his secrets could destroy us both.
I thought Ryan's proposal was a dream come true. But when I discovered his connection to my brother's widow, Stella, my world collapsed. He calls her his "first love." He went to jail for her. And he’s only marrying me to get closer to her.
But I have a secret too: the man who truly loves me now carries my brother’s heart. And on our wedding day, I’ll expose the truth. The question is, which man will be standing at the altar when I say "I do"?

Two girls—one white and one black—switch bodies. Can they find common ground?  High school seniors, Natalia Brown and Elizabeth Castillo, live very different lives. Natalia’s wild-girl reputation is legendary, while Elizabeth’s artistic abilities gather dust in the shadows.In a twist of fate, these two very different girls switch bodies. Forced to put their mutual hatred aside, they must work together to convince the world nothing has changed while trying to return themselves to normal. But living in each other's bodies reveals secrets and scars they'd both tried to hide.Will they be able to fool the world and switch back? Or will they both destroy each other's lives before returning to their own? If You Were Me is a heartwarming body-swap novel set in Belize. It explores the meaning of love and the power of friendship.

Seven years ago, I left him while carrying his child.

That night, I had a reservation ready to tell him we were having a baby. He texted about a last-minute audition. Then I saw him on TMZ having candlelit dinner with a producer's daughter.

So I walked away. Had Mia alone. Built a gallery in Portland under a fake name. Four years of pretending the past never happened.

Until he showed up at my door, saying he was Noah's uncle.

Those eyes—left one blue, right one green—matched my daughter's exactly.

He said he'd been searching for seven years. That he studied my paintings every night. That he'd been living across the street, watching over me in secret.

I should've slammed the door.

But when the world called me a fraud, when I stood accused in Paris with cameras everywhere, he flew five thousand miles to tell everyone: "She's my wife. Mia's mother."

Seven years ago, he made me hide in shadows. Seven years later, he dragged me into the spotlight.

The question is—do I dare trust him again?

I thought the day I put on that wedding dress would be the most beautiful moment of my life.

Until I heard my fiancé Marcus talking to his mistress in the next fitting room—"Does she really believe you love her?" "Of course she believes it. Sophia's so damn naive, I just gotta say some romantic bullshit and she gets all teary-eyed and grateful."

In that moment, my world shattered completely. Three years of romance, all just a calculated business merger. He didn't want me—he wanted the Ashford family trust fund.

What destroyed me even more was discovering that even my only family—my stepbrother Damien—was part of this deal. In their eyes, I was nothing but a pawn to save the family's financial crisis.

Betrayed by the two men I loved most, I chose the most extreme way out—faking my death on my wedding day.

Five years later, when I returned to Boston as Victoria Sterling, I was no longer that naive little princess of the Ashford family. I was an investment queen controlling billions of dollars. I came back not to forgive, but to make everyone who betrayed me pay the price they deserved.

Marcus, do you remember that girl who "died" at your wedding altar? She's back to settle the score.

A stormy night. A broke barista. One rescued Golden Retriever that cost Winter her last penny.

Plot twist: the dog belongs to Hollywood heartthrob Dylan Carter.

"Hand over my dog!" he demands, but the Golden Retriever won't budge from Winter's side, whimpering at its own master like a heartbroken child.

Then comes the curveball—$10K a month to live in his Malibu mansion as the dog's personal caretaker. From rags to riches overnight.

But what's with the mind games? Steamy midnight swims, almost-kisses that turn into cold shoulders... What is this man's endgame?

My name is Mira Sawyer, an orphan adopted by the Rossi mafia family.

The night I was kidnapped, the captor pressed a gun to my temple and told Marco over video: "Five million dollars, or she dies."

I watched Marco Rossi—heir to New York's mafia empire—laugh with a blonde in his arms: "Keep her. Maybe she'll finally learn I don't want a pathetic puppy following me around."

Ten years of waiting, shattered at gunpoint.

Then the warehouse exploded.

Through the smoke walked a man in a black coat, eyes colder than death itself. Three shots. Three bodies. He stopped in front of me: "Nobody touches what's mine to protect."

That night changed everything.

The next day, I returned to the manor and saw him descending the stairs. Marco's face went white:

"Uncle Luca?! You're back from Sicily?!"

The legendary killer, exiled for twelve years. The real power behind the Rossi family. Marco's uncle.

He was the man who saved me.

And in that warehouse, I'd already become his.

My name is Neve Thornwood. I'm twenty-four and about to awaken as a wolf for the first time.
Yes, twenty-four. First awakening.
But I already have a chosen mate and a beautiful five-year-old daughter.
In the wolf world, that makes me an anomaly. A late bloomer. Some would say broken. My mother would say cursed.
Turns out, she's right.
What I didn't know was that she's the one who cursed me. She's terrified that once I awaken, I'll sense my Fated Mate—and that it might be her husband. My own father.
The phone rang at two in the morning. I knew it was her before I even looked at the screen. My mate Kael groaned beside me, his arm tightening around my waist.
"Don't answer it," he mumbled into my hair.
I should've listened. But guilt has a way of making you do stupid things at 2 AM.

If someone had told me that my last month at UCLA would get completely turned upside down by a stolen kiss, I would've laughed in their face. But now I'm staring at three guys I've known for years, and one of them kissed me in the blackout. The worst part? My heart races differently for each of them. Dylan makes me feel safe, Cameron makes me feel alive, Jake makes me feel like myself. With graduation looming and my overprotective brother conducting background checks on all three, I have one week to figure out who stole that kiss—and who I want to kiss back.

I thought ten years of childhood sweethearts could weather any storm.

Until that night when Charles rushed out after her call, leaving me alone in bed with his child growing inside me, not knowing how to tell him.

Seraphina Blackwood, tech dynasty heiress, threatened Charles with her father's billion-dollar empire to marry her. And me? Just an orphan girl who seemed to mean nothing in Silicon Valley's power games.

When I watched him remove our wedding ring, when I saw their sweet photos at the hospital, when I lay bleeding on the floor and he chose her... I finally understood that maybe love really can't survive against money.

But what I didn't know was that while I started my new life in Switzerland, there was a man secretly protecting me with his kidney, his heart, his everything...

Until his assistant appeared at my little bakery, desperation in his eyes: "Ms. Thorne, please, you have to save him!"

I just wanted to meet my little brother's new girlfriend at Thanksgiving dinner. I didn't expect Crystal to accuse me in front of our entire family: "Scarlett's been seducing Phoenix! She's 31 and single because she's obsessed with her brother!" Worse yet, Phoenix was actually considering believing her. When Crystal started demanding my mom wash her underwear, I knew it was time to fight back.

The sunset over Portland looks like something out of a postcard tonight. Too bad I won't be around to see many more of them.

Six months. That's what Dr. Martinez gave me this afternoon. Stage four stomach cancer, spreading fast. I sat in my car in the hospital parking lot for an hour afterward, trying to figure out who I'm supposed to call with news like this.

My phone buzzes—my brother, right on time. "You missed Dad's birthday dinner. Again." His voice has that familiar edge, the one that's been there since we were kids. Since Mom died giving birth to me twenty-four years ago.

He doesn't ask where I was. Doesn't ask if I'm okay. Just launches into the same old guilt trip about family obligations and responsibility. I want to tell him about the diagnosis, but what's the point? He's spent my entire life wishing it had been me instead of Mom.

Karen used to say I never grew up, that I was always playing the victim. Easy words from someone who never had to live with being the reason their mother died. She never saw the panic attacks, never noticed how I flinched when people raised their voices, never asked about the scars on my arms.

Now I'm dying, and I can't stop wondering—will anyone actually miss me? Or will they just feel relieved that the family burden is finally gone?

In the moment flames consumed her, Maya heard the cruelest truth—she had been betrayed by the one she loved most, sacrificed for an insurance fraud scheme.

Death was not the end.

Reborn seven days before her murder, Maya gets a second chance to change everything. Yet nothing prepares her for the shocking discovery: Connor, the brother she'd rejected and abandoned, has been her guardian all along—watching, controlling, protecting her with an obsession that borders on madness.

This isn't twisted control. This is love born from hell itself.

I saved Frank from an avalanche. He paid me back by locking me at home with a pregnancy monitor and a salt-free diet. When he announced to the world on television that he was single, causing me to miscarry in a blizzard that very night, I knew this man was beyond saving.
So, I made him drink a potion that erases memory. Now, he has completely forgotten me, his wife, and our dead child.
And my greatest revenge is to stand here, watching him kneel madly in every heavy snow, desperately searching for the woman he personally killed.
I am the woman he will never find.

When I scrolled across that photo of Tyler with his arms wrapped around Rachel at 2 AM, I nearly shattered my phone against the wall. That bastard—maintaining our "just scratching an itch" arrangement while wooing her with soulmate bullshit?

With anger burning through my veins and my skin flushing hot, I stormed off to the jazz bar determined to expose him.

But who could have guessed that in the middle of this dramatic showdown, I'd discover the truth about Seth—the one secretly marking up my sheet music, the one who decked Tyler for me?

Maybe this gut-wrenching betrayal was actually the universe's twisted way of pointing me toward something real.

A twenty-dollar thrift store blanket connected me to a billionaire's mind.

I'm Isadora Miller—broke Brooklyn art student who accidentally bought a psychic link to Raphael Ashford, Manhattan's most eligible heir. I could hear his thoughts, feel his touch, control his every sensation.

What started as curiosity became obsession. What began as power became love.

But when you're nobody from nowhere and he's worth three hundred billion dollars, when his family threatens to destroy you and society says you don't belong—loving someone means knowing when to let them go.

Until he's willing to lose everything to keep you.R

I was six years old when Mom took my brother and me by the hand, leading us into a mansion that looked like a palace. She told us this was our new beginning, after all the hardships we'd been through. But no one warned me that this so-called better life would mean giving up everything I had.

My scholarships, my prom dress, even my Stanford acceptance letter—they all turned into bargaining chips just to keep my stepfather and his daughter Sienna happy. Then, the night before my wedding, they even asked my fiancé to "temporarily" give himself to her as well.

I've always been the one giving everything, pouring myself out until there's nothing left, yet I've never heard the words, "You're enough." If love means endless sacrifice, why am I never the one on the receiving end?

Maybe only when I vanish completely will they remember my name—for the first and last time.

"Get out! You AIDS-riddled whore!"

Father pointed at the door, Mother shrieked curses, my sister Emily cried trying to hold me back. But no one knew, I didn't have AIDS. I had stage 4 pancreatic cancer.

On a freezing October night, I was thrown out barefoot in my pajamas. Huddled under a bridge, I planned to return tomorrow with hospital proof, proof it was cancer, not AIDS.

Tomorrow they'll believe me. Tomorrow everything will be okay.

But when that man's shadow loomed over me, I suddenly realized—

Some people were never meant to have a tomorrow.

The day someone stuffed a rancid, oil-dripping sandwich into my locker, splattering my uniform, I understood—no one here saw me as human.
My stepsister crushed my fallen lunch under her heel, laughing at how "pathetic" I was. In chemistry class, they all watched as I rattled around alone in the corner. Even my so-called best friend mocked me, fake-sobbing into a book—"Mommy, I miss you so much"—mimicking my most vulnerable moment for everyone's entertainment.

Until I climbed to the school roof, one step from jumping, when my phone suddenly rang: "Want to make them beg for forgiveness?"

They say I married a prince and lived happily ever after.

But no one knows that after that million-dollar fairy tale wedding, my "prince" handed me three things: poison, a dagger, and one sentence—

"For my true love, please die."

That's when I realized some fairy tales are lies from the very beginning. Some princes are born devils.

But he underestimated how dangerous a girl raised in a circus could be.

Not only did I survive, I gave him a "gift"—I drugged him and got pregnant with his child. Then I watched him helplessly as his "true love" Margot fell into my father's arms, becoming my stepmother.

The best part? When he discovered that the woman he loved chose my sixty-year-old father, chose money and status over "true love," I witnessed a man completely shatter.

Now, five years later, I sit on the throne while my son—his son—plays in the garden. And that "prince" who wanted me dead? He's been waiting for me in hell.

I was going to kill my mother.
Alpha Garrett—the third "suitable match" she'd arranged this month—was lecturing me about my future like I was livestock being appraised.
"You're young and healthy. Perfect for breeding. At least three pups, I think." He gestured with his fork. "You'll need to quit that little job at the archives. Focus on pack duties. And no more wasting money on cosmetics and fancy clothes."
An Omega's place is supporting her Alpha, he said, like he was bestowing ancient wisdom instead of recycling prehistoric garbage.
That's when I snapped.
"I can't marry you," the words exploded out of me. "I'm already marked."
The café went dead silent. Garrett's face turned red. And I realized I'd just told the stupidest lie of my life.
Until a dangerously familiar voice spoke from directly behind me.
Kael Nightshade—Alpha of our pack, my boss, the wolf who made grown Betas stammer—was suddenly there, silver eyes locked on mine.
And then he did something that changed everything: he looked Garrett dead in the eye and said, "I don't take kindly to people disrespecting my mate."

My name is Aria Storm, Delta warrior of Silvercrest Pack.

My parents died protecting this territory. The only reason I stayed was my fiancé—Alpha heir Damien Blackwood.

I never expected that Serena, the pitiful Omega who arrived three months ago claiming to flee an abusive ex, would become the knife that shattered my life.

And I especially didn't expect that just one week ago, when the doctor told me my battle wounds might make me infertile, Damien held me tight and whispered, "I only want you. Children don't matter."

Until that day—

Fresh from training, I carried two cups of coffee toward Damien's office, hoping to surprise my overworked Alpha.

Through the half-open door, I heard her sickeningly sweet voice:

"Damien, the baby's kicking. Feel it."

I shattered the perfume I crafted for him, and with it, my ridiculous love.
When Damian called me a "cheap and replaceable tool" in front of everyone in that elite club's private booth, my three-year secret crush died instantly. The bottle, containing my heartfelt creation, lay in pieces on the floor—just like my dignity.
But then his identical twin brother, Declan, found me. "If he doesn't want you, I do," he said, wiping my tears. "Give me three months. I'll make you the treasure he can never have."
I became the spark that ignited a war between brothers, transforming from a discarded stand-in to the center of their fierce rivalry. Now, with both powerful CEOs claiming to love me, which one should I choose?
Or perhaps the real question is… why should I have to choose at all?

For three years, Gabriel forced me to watch myself rot in a cursed mirror, whispering: "This is the real you."

I tried using Jasper as withdrawal medication. I rewrote scripts with Orion. I endured every humiliation thinking it would set me free.

But every man who claimed to save me was just another puppeteer.

Gabriel wanted my soul. Jasper wanted a tool. Orion wanted his mission completed.

They all thought they were writing my story...

I used to be the luckiest girl alive—until my own mother locked me in a freezer and abandoned me there for eight agonizing days.

It all began with my father's affair with my ballet teacher. From then on, my mother despised me, blaming me for ruining her life and wishing I'd never been born. She showered affection on Emma, the girl who'd lost her own mother, while shoving me into that freezer as "punishment."

But Emma snuck in and cranked the temperature down even lower.

Trapped in the chilling darkness, I slowly froze to death. All the while, my mother was back at home, brushing Emma's hair, flipping pancakes, without a single thought of checking on me.

Now I'm gone, hovering like a ghost in the air, watching her pretend my rotting body doesn't exist, hearing her spin lies to the police.

But the truth won't stay hidden forever—when that freezer door swings open at last, she'll finally grasp the horror of what she's lost.

When I woke up in the hospital after the crash, I croaked "Bro" at my brother. He stared back like I was a stranger and coldly shot back, "I'm not your brother."

Even more bizarre, he pointed at some guy with an IV stand and said, "That's your brother." I clutched my sheets, faking amnesia, and followed this "fake brother" home, only to discover his leukemia medication and hear him coughing blood in the middle of the night.

Caught between my real brother's rejection and my "fake brother's" fragility, I'm spinning a web of lies between two "brothers"—where will this case of mistaken identity drag me?

Six years of marriage. All of it, just an elaborate revenge plot.

When Lorenzo played that recording in front of a room full of guests, telling everyone I was the daughter of the undercover cop who killed his father, I finally understood—every kiss, every sweet word, every night of passion was nothing more than a move in his game of vengeance.

I thought the worst pain was being abandoned, humiliated, stripped of everything.

Until Elena collapsed in a pool of blood because we couldn't afford her medication. That's when I learned what true despair meant.

But when the man who destroyed me used his own body to shield me from bullets, when he used his dying breath to whisper "I love you"—

Should I hate him, or should I forgive him?

Eighteen should feel different.
It doesn't.
At my birthday party, my stepfather announces three rules: forget NYU, pay rent, do all the housework. I wait for Mom to defend me. Instead, she agrees. Says I "need to learn responsibility." That night, she shoves me out the window with five hundred dollars and a vintage handbag.
I spend the next year working retail in Boston, living on my aunt's couch, hating her for choosing him over me.
Then I apply for financial aid. They find a trust fund in my name. Two hundred thousand dollars. Set up the morning of my eighteenth birthday.
Mom left me more than money. She left me a storage unit, a laptop, and the truth about why she pushed me away.
The truth about what my stepfather really wanted.
And by the time I understand, it's too late to say goodbye.

At the Met Gala, I heard my husband tell his friends in French that I'm "boring." That his 22-year-old girlfriend is "so much more exciting in bed."

He laughed when they asked if I knew. "Elle ne comprend même pas 'bonjour'." (She doesn't even understand 'bonjour'.)

What Marcus doesn't know: I spent two years at the Sorbonne.

Je comprends tout, Marcus. I understand everything.

The diamond necklace he gave me after my miscarriage suddenly feels too tight. I smile at him across the champagne and candlelight.

He has no idea what's coming.