Amelia Rivers
15 Published Stories
Amelia Rivers's Books and Stories
Reborn And Remade: The Exiled Matriarch
Fantasy A jagged spike of agony woke Kiana up in a filthy stone room.
She had transmigrated into the body of a notorious, exiled matriarch in a brutal wasteland.
Before she could even process her new reality, she saw a massive, bloodied man huddled in the corner, trembling in absolute terror.
Foreign memories detonated in her brain: the original Kiana swinging a spiked whip, laughing as she tore his flesh open.
He was her husband, and she was a monster who tortured her own consorts.
The situation was a complete death trap.
Another husband stormed in, throwing down a marriage contract and demanding to sever their ties, which would leave her to be eaten by mutated beasts.
Outside, her third husband lay dying from a toxic wound while the rest of the tribe mocked her, eagerly waiting for her downfall.
Scanning her own body, Kiana discovered her face was covered in ugly purple bruises.
The original host hadn't just been naturally insane; she had been secretly fed a chronic poison by political enemies, destroying her beauty and driving her mad until she was exiled.
As a survivor from a modern apocalypse, the sight of broken, enslaved men made her skin crawl.
She refused to die in this savage wasteland as a pawn in someone else's twisted game.
Kiana tossed the contract back to the furious man.
"Give me three months. I will save him, and I swear I won't touch you."
With her apocalyptic healing powers and a newly awakened Spatial System, she was going to rewrite the rules of this primitive world. A Second Chance With Mr. Blackwood
Mafia In the roaring flames of the abandoned warehouse, my skin blistered and peeled.
Through the crackling fire, my sister Elara's malicious voice echoed. She told me my husband, Damien, was dead, and it was all my fault.
For years, I had treated Damien like a monster. I fought him, threw tantrums, and desperately tried to escape our marriage, all because I blindly followed Elara's advice.
"Remember, the harder you fight, the more disgusted he'll get."
She texted me things like that, telling me to smash vases over his head and run away, claiming she was protecting me.
In reality, she was poisoning my mind, stealing my valedictorian spot at university, and plotting to crawl into my billionaire husband's bed.
My foolish rebellion cost me everything, ultimately leading to Damien's tragic death and my own fiery end.
As the massive explosion tore my consciousness to shreds, I finally understood who truly loved me and who the real monster was.
I died suffocating on my own agonizing regret, wishing I could tear Elara apart.
Then, a rush of freezing air punched into my lungs.
I opened my eyes to the crisp scent of cedar and mint. I was back seven years ago, on the very night our marriage was supposed to go to hell.
This time, looking at Damien's flawless, unscarred face, I didn't push him away.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and made a silent vow: I would make every single person who ever hurt him bleed. Reborn To Ruin The Mafia Don
Mafia My sister Rosalie always played the role of my gentle protector. On the night of my engagement, she insisted I take a secluded canyon road for my own safety.
In my past life, I didn't know it was a deadly trap. I fell for the staged ambush and the rival mobster, Julian, who took a fake bullet to "save" me.
Because of my blind trust, my entire Falcone bloodline was annihilated overnight. My father was beheaded, my brothers were gunned down, and my sweet little sister was left to die in a filthy alley. I was even brainwashed into betraying my new husband, Damien Moretti. I shot the only man who truly protected me right through the heart, just before Rosalie drowned me in a freezing lake, laughing as she confessed she was just a bastard child stealing my life.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very night my nightmare began. I was trapped in a penthouse, a lethal drug melting my sanity, pinned beneath Damien. But after he brutally sweat the poison out of my veins, he didn't look at me with love. He handed me a Plan B pill with a gaze full of ancient, chilling hatred.
"Swallow it," he commanded, his voice a sheet of ice.
He remembers. The Dark Don remembers the past life where I murdered him. But this time, I won't be a pawn. I wiped the blood of my traitorous maid from my hands, ready to drag my fake sister straight to hell. Jilted By Nephew, Claimed By King
Romance I was kneeling on the cold concrete of an abandoned warehouse, staring at a ticking timer while a masked man held a knife to my throat. My fiancé's nephew, Preston, finally burst through the door, but he wasn't alone. He was clutching my stepsister, Felicia, both of them looking frantic.
The kidnapper gave Preston a brutal choice: the bomb was rigged to the door, and he could only take one woman with him. The other would stay behind to burn.
Without a single second of hesitation, Preston grabbed Felicia's hand and turned his back on me.
"I'm sorry, Annelise," he said, his voice flat and devoid of any real regret.
He slammed the heavy iron door shut, leaving me to scream in the darkness as the flames began to roar. He didn't just leave me to die; he did it to protect his inheritance, treating me like a piece of trash that was finally being cleared from his path.
Later, in the hospital, he didn't even offer an apology. Instead, he raised his hand to strike me, threatening to finish what the fire started if I dared to speak a word about his cowardice. His stepsister laughed, trying to pour scalding coffee on my face while calling me a pathetic loser who should have stayed in the warehouse.
I sat there, cowering and shaking like a broken girl, letting them believe they had won. I watched their cruelty with wide, watery eyes, wondering how they could be so blind to the monster they were provoking.
What Preston didn't know was that the entire kidnapping was a performance I had choreographed myself, and every second of his betrayal was recorded in 4K.
Now, I've successfully moved into the manor of the real king-his uncle, Francesco Lancaster. He thinks he's rescued a wounded bird, but he's actually invited a world-class predator into his home. The game is no longer about survival; it's about total destruction. Woke Up Married To A Secret Zillionaire
Modern I went to the New York City Clerk's office to handle a simple administrative matter, but the woman behind the glass handed me a nightmare instead. It was a certified marriage license from Clark County, Nevada, filed exactly three months ago.
My vision blurred as I read the name in the spouse field: Baxter Noel. I was legally married to the ruthless billionaire whose legal team was currently suing me for intellectual property theft and trying to destroy my career.
I remembered the conference in Las Vegas and a drink that tasted far too sweet, followed by a twelve-hour black hole in my memory that I had chalked up to exhaustion. When I sought help at my family's estate, my stepmother and sister didn't offer comfort; they stole my passport, shredded my clothes, and framed me for academic plagiarism to strip away my university fellowship. Even Baxter himself looked me in the eye with cold indifference, claiming he didn't know me and promising to have me arrested for fraud if I ever showed him that document again. Within twenty-four hours, I was homeless, jobless, and being hunted by the most powerful man in the city.
I couldn't understand why a man who "eats people for breakfast" would be caught in the same trap as a struggling scientist like me. The confusion turned to pure terror when I looked at the witness signature on the license: Gene Mcclain. My mother, who was supposed to have died in a car crash ten years ago, had signed that paper with a fresh, trembling hand only ninety days ago.
"I am holding a grenade, and I have no idea when the pin was pulled."
Standing in the biting November wind with nothing but a laptop and a marriage license, I realized I was just a pawn in a much deadlier game. I stopped running and began to fight back, determined to use my unwanted status as the billionaire's wife to uncover the truth about the mother who came back from the dead. His Ordinary Girl Found Everything
Modern After ten years with my boyfriend, Brenton, I overheard him call me "ordinary" on my 28th birthday. He told his friend he'd regret marrying me because my middle-class background wasn't good enough for his wealthy family. The next day, he kicked me out of our home.
His mother then paid me to cater a party, serving the very woman she' d always wanted for her son.
Ten years of my life, erased. I was disposable, a placeholder they no longer needed.
That night, heartbroken and homeless, I did something crazy. I opened a dating app, found a quiet, dependable Marine from high school, and sent him a message.
His profile said: "Looking for a serious partner for marriage and family. No games."
So I typed out the words that would change my life.
"This might sound crazy, but if you're serious about getting married... would you consider marrying me?" Rejected for an Heir: The Barren Luna's Secret
Werewolf My husband, the Alpha, told me the pack needed an heir, and since I was "barren," he had found a solution.
Her name was Aria. She smelled like artificial vanilla and rotting peaches.
Alex claimed she was just a surrogate, a vessel to carry his bloodline.
Yet, he moved her into the nursery I had prepared for our own children.
He let her wear the Luna's silver gown to the Moon Festival, an honor reserved only for me.
When she staged a fall and blamed me, Alex used his Alpha Command to force me to my knees, humiliating me in front of the entire pack.
He even drained his own life-force to give her a blood transfusion for a fake illness, ignoring my warnings that it would weaken the pack.
He looked at me with cold hatred, calling me a broken human, while he groomed her publicly like a mate.
I realized then that he didn't just want a child. He wanted to replace me.
So, when his father handed him a stack of "business documents" to sign, Alex didn't read the fine print.
He thought he was protecting his assets for his new future.
He didn't realize he had just signed our divorce papers.
I cleaned my scent from the house, left my ring on the table, and boarded a jet to Paris.
Alex thinks I'm visiting a sick cousin.
He doesn't know I've left forever.
And he certainly doesn't know that the moment I severed our bond, my "dormant" wolf finally woke up. I Don't Do Mercy: The Ex Who Knelt
Romance Adrian Carter was my husband.
He was making out with his secretary in my car, leaving stains all over my son Ethan Bennett's seat.
When I walked in on them, he didn't show the slightest remorse. Instead, he sneered at me, "What, can't take it? Our marriage was nothing but a contract!"
It wasn't until I froze his billion-dollar deal, smashed his luxury watch, and threw the divorce papers at him in front of everyone that I finally said, "I, Grace Bennett, won't take anything that's been sullied!"
He fell to his knees, begging for mercy.
Too late.
I took Ethan's hand and, without a backward glance, stepped into another man's car. His Antidote, Her Torment
Romance For five years, I was Julian Heath's dirty little secret. As the CEO of a tech empire, he was a king, but a rare neurotoxin made him a prisoner. My unique biochemistry was his only antidote, requiring hours of intimate contact to keep him alive.
He was convinced I was the one who poisoned him—an obsessed stalker who had trapped him in a disgusting dependency.
Tonight, he gave me the "attention" he said I always craved, live-streaming a video of our most private moments to a private auction.
As the bids climbed, he introduced me to his new fiancée, Cassandra. She was his real savior, he announced. Her family had developed a permanent cure, derived from my own blood. After tonight, he would finally be free of me.
He had it all wrong. I wasn't born with the antidote. I was a biochemist who spent a year in a hidden lab modifying my own genetic code, turning myself into a living cure to save the man I'd loved since childhood.
He left me in that room with the live stream still playing, his laughter echoing down the hall. The love I had for him turned to ash.
I walked out, found a payphone, and made a call to the only person who knew the truth.
"I want you to help me fake my death." His Toxic Love, Her Escape
Romance I used to think I was the luckiest girl in the world, a high school dropout who' d somehow landed Liam Hayes, the kind of guy straight out of movies. For six months, I believed his sweet words, falling so hard that I couldn' t see anything but him.
Then, at an exclusive club, with a positive pregnancy test stick tucked in my purse, ready to surprise him, I overheard Liam telling his friends I was just a "fun distraction." The dream shattered, leaving me heartbroken and humiliated as he coldly denied even knowing me when I bravely confronted him.
Back in his luxurious apartment, Liam's possessiveness surfaced. He forced himself on me, then casually suggested an abortion when he found my prenatal vitamins. A flicker of hope ignited when a doctor told me my positive test was false, a "second chance" to escape his toxic world. However, his relentless pursuit and violent behavior revealed he wouldn't let go easily.
During a brutal confrontation, Liam physically assaulted me, fueled by his rage and control. My world crumbled as I realized the cruel truth: he wasn't the man I loved but a monster. He had broken me, leaving me utterly alone.
But in that moment of despair, something primal ignited within me. As he pinned me to the bed, threatening to keep me trapped, I found the strength to fight back. I lashed out, screaming that our twisted relationship was over, and from the floor, he could only watch in disbelief as I walked out, leaving his abusive grip forever behind. No Longer His Muse
Romance The sterile white walls of Liam's penthouse, a gilded cage masquerading as my studio, stifled me.
Every painting, every breath, belonged to him.
Then, a cold, glowing message appeared in my vision: `[Muse System Activated. Main Task: Sever the parasitic relationship with Liam.]`
My secret guide had arrived.
Its first sub-quest: `[Facilitate the marriage between Liam and his childhood sweetheart, Scarlett.]`
This was my way out.
I became the perfect, pliant artist, orchestrating his reunion with the sophisticated art critic he truly desired.
I endured her disdain, even painting her tributes to feed his obsession.
The night of the Art Gala, I felt unwell, my head spinning from stress.
As I steadied myself by an ice sculpture, Scarlett deliberately bumped me.
I stumbled, and a piece of the sculpture crashed down, narrowly missing her.
She screamed, accusing me of jealousy, of trying to hurt her.
Liam, his rage burning, pulled her into his arms, completely ignoring me.
`"Chloe! What the hell did you do?"` he snarled.
The crowd's murmurs turned into accusations, judging me the crazy, jealous mistress.
A familiar cramping seized my stomach, and I doubled over in searing pain.
Blood trickled down my leg, a dark stain on my light dress.
I was having a miscarriage, a life I didn't even know I carried.
Liam dragged me to his car, ` "Can' t you go one night without making a scene?" ` he hissed, before abandoning me in the parking lot to return to Scarlett.
The system confirmed my loss: `[Pregnancy terminated due to physical trauma.]`
I realized then: this wasn't just neglect.
It was calculated cruelty, a test from Scarlett to see how far he'd go for her.
And he had passed.
His utter indifference, his willingness to sacrifice me, ignited a cold fury.
I would still get them together.
But this time, it wouldn' t be for his happiness.
It would be for my ultimate, painful freedom. His Secret Obsession, My Betrayal
LGBT+ The air in the penthouse reeked of sex and lies; I, Chloe Davis, a tech prodigy, was tangled in the sheets of Ethan Hayes, the venture capitalist titan.
But the soft hiss of his shower was soon drowned out by a chilling message on his laptop: "Ethan, can you come keep me company for a bit...? - Liam."
Liam-the "first love" I' d recently watched Ethan escort into a hotel with tender care, the same Liam whose face filled the secret shrine in Ethan's study, a shrine I'd discovered while waiting alone on Ethan' s birthday, clutching an engagement ring.
That night, news alerts screamed of #TechMogul\'sSecretLove, confirming my worst fears of being nothing but a call-on-demand lover, a temporary diversion while his true obsession was away.
Now, as he dismissively left me for his "office" – Liam – a cold dread turned into a furious resolve. I ordered a ride-share, following him to the hotel, my heart hammering as I watched him link arms with Liam, a picture of perfect affection. They looked like a family, something I' d never known.
When my own father, eager to marry me off for fifty billion, presented Liam as his mistress' s son, my new stepbrother, the betrayal hardened into a diamond-sharp edge. I bought couture gowns I' d never wear, jewelry I' d never put on, emptying his accounts.
Then, walking through a dark alley after my credit card was cut off, I was cornered by two menacing men. Just as they grabbed me, a black car screeched to a halt, and Ethan's assistant, Mark, stepped out, followed by Ethan himself, his face a mask of cold fury.
He pulled me into his Maybach, demanding answers. My response was simple: "Away from you. Away from my father. Away from everything." This wasn't just about escape; it was about reclaiming myself. A Shattered Anniversary
Romance The aroma of roasted rosemary filled her home, a warm promise Ava Green had meticulously crafted for her anniversary. The candles flickered, jazz hummed, and the dining table was set for two. Everything was perfect, yet building intimacy with her own husband felt impossible.
Then, the key turned in the lock, and Mark walked in, his eyes sliding past the romantic scene. "Happy anniversary," she whispered, only to be met with his weary sigh, "I' m exhausted. Can we not do this tonight?" He ignored her, leaving her standing amidst the dying romance of her own creation.
Later, unable to sleep, Ava wandered downstairs, only to hear Mark' s voice from the patio, laced with an intimacy he never used with her. "It was so suffocating," he laughed, speaking of the dinner. Then came another voice, sickeningly familiar: Chloe. Her best friend since childhood, mocking Ava' s desperation.
The air left Ava' s lungs. Her world shattered. She felt invisible, a punch to the gut of all her failed attempts. How could the two people she trusted most betray her so completely, so cruelly?
But as Mark stormed out, labeling her "paranoid" and "hysterical," a cold, sharp clarity cut through her pain. No more tears. No more self-blame. They had played her for a fool, but tonight, the game changed. From Contract Wife to Global Icon
Modern For three excruciating years, I was Olivia Prescott, the dutiful, silent wife in a cold, pre-arranged marriage, foolishly loving a man who only saw his college sweetheart, Chloe.
My unspoken devotion and tireless efforts to manage his life and our opulent home were met with blatant neglect and emotional indifference.
The breaking point arrived not with a bang, but a searing lash and a crumpled heirloom: my grandmother' s cherished cashmere shawl, deliberately ruined by Chloe, then callously dismissed by Ethan as "just a piece of cloth."
He publicly humiliated me, forcing a humiliating apology for an "accident" that was anything but.
That same night, his formidable mother Eleanor, enraged by my perceived defiance, wielded a riding crop, physically assaulting me.
While she beat me, her son laughed softly on the phone with his beloved, utterly oblivious to the cruelty unfolding just feet away.
How could I have been so blind, so foolishly hopeful, to believe love could blossom in such a barren wasteland of contempt and betrayal?
My heart, once foolishly hopeful, turned to stone, burning with a quiet fury that day.
With divorce papers signed and a decade of unrequited love finally extinguished, I walked out of the Prescott mansion.
I left behind the ghost of a docile wife and stepped into the unknown, determined to rise from the ashes of my shattered life and show them precisely what a disposable woman could achieve. The Wife Who Rose From Ruin
Modern I was living the dream, pregnant with our first child. My husband, Ethan, a successful music executive, was my world. Our apartment was a nest of shared hopes, ready for our baby’s first check-up.
Then, just before the appointment, Ethan blew me off for his "childhood friend," a faded pop star, calling her 'emergency' paramount. Hours later, alone on a grimy city street after a fall, I miscarried. My desperate calls to him went unanswered.
I woke up in a hospital bed, our baby gone. A notification confirmed my nightmare: Tiffany, glowing, intimately posed with Ethan, who’d dropped $500k on her song—a song built on my stolen melody. Their affair openly continued. Ethan demeaned me, locked me in dark rooms, even shoving me towards a snarling dog to protect her.
He remained oblivious to the miscarriage, dismissing my every hurt as "hormonal drama" or "jealousy." How could the man who swore a lifetime of love destroy me so utterly, protecting his "muse" over his wife, over our lost child? My very being screamed for answers.
When he demanded I promote Tiffany's stolen work, something snapped. I left the hospital, delivered the miscarriage report, and vanished. Tiffany won that round, but she ignited a fire. Nashville awaited, and with it, a plan. She had no idea the fury she’d unleashed, or the true power of a lullaby. You might like
Healing My Seven Broken Beast Mates
Rabbit My retirement was finally approved, and I was supposed to be sipping drinks on a sunny beach.
Instead, a cold system voice forced me into a nightmare scenario: "Cursed Mates Who Want Me Dead." I woke up in a stinking cave, trapped in the body of a psychopathic tribal princess.
The memories that flooded my brain made me sick. The original owner of this body had forcibly marked seven of the continent's most powerful beast-men and reduced them to tortured pets. She had ripped the shimmering scales off Jordi the Merfolk prince, gouged out a proud wolf-man's power crystal, and snapped an eagle-man's magnificent wings.
Now, Jordi was a mutilated, terrified mess hiding in a corner. He was so traumatized that he tried to slit his own throat just to escape me. His sister was actively trying to assassinate me.
To make matters worse, the system warned me that if I didn't heal these seven ticking time bombs, my soul would be erased. Yet the future timeline clearly showed that these men would eventually unite, burn my tribe to the ground, and dismember me alive.
I was paying for a monster's sins. Every time I tried to show mercy, they thought it was a sick new torture method. Words were useless, and my very presence was a trigger.
But I am a Tier-S operative, and I don't play the victim. I forced the system to unlock my powers and strapped on my tactical gear.
"Stay here and don't starve."
I left the trembling Merfolk behind and walked into the deadly primitive forest, heading straight for the powerful Oasis Tribe to take back his stolen scales by force. Claimed By The Possessive Silver Wolf
Evie Schoofs I was just hiking in Yosemite, but I woke up in a primitive forest with two moons and giant, mutated beasts.
Before I could even process the shock, I was attacked by a monstrous saber-toothed tiger, only to be saved by a massive silver wolf who suddenly transformed into a fiercely possessive, completely naked man named Caleb.
He claimed me as his own and carried me to his sprawling beast-man tribe. But the moment we arrived, I became the target of vicious ridicule. Jana, the tribe's most fertile female, pointed at my unmarked skin and publicly humiliated me.
"She has no mate marks! She's a barren waste, useless for breeding!"
Hearing this, the hundreds of beast-men who had just been eyeing me with lust instantly stepped back in disgust. In this twisted, animalistic society, a female's worth was tied entirely to her ability to produce strong cubs.
I stood there shivering, terrified and degraded, reduced to nothing but a defective piece of meat. I braced myself for the inevitable, waiting for Caleb to realize my worthlessness and throw me out to be torn apart by the wild.
Instead, a terrifying, suffocating aura exploded from his body, bringing the entire tribe to their knees. He swatted the fertile female away in disgust, scooped me into his arms, and turned his back on the camp.
"She is my only mate," he declared, his ice-blue eyes promising violence to anyone who dared to look at me. The Discarded Heiress Owns The Wasteland
Ying Suhua Casey woke up with a throbbing skull in a glamorous dressing room, facing a public execution by an internet mob.
Her wealthy family had thrown her away. Her hypocritical sister, Coralie, forced a holographic tablet into her hands, demanding she join a deadly survival reality show on a wasteland planet.
"It's what Mommy wants. If you don't sign, you're dead to the Hendersons."
The whole world wanted her dead. On the live broadcast, billions of viewers cursed her as a toxic stalker. The golden boy idol Kayson physically attacked her to defend Coralie's honor. Even the show's staff mocked her, deliberately leaving her with nothing but a torn, broken tent and a single bottle of water for the lethal alien wilderness.
The universe was playing a cruel joke on her. She was framed as the villain of her sister's perfect story, banished to a wasteland where everyone expected her to cry, beg, and die on live television.
But they didn't know she had already survived a decade in the ruins. Casey didn't shed a single tear. Instead, she invoked a hidden contract clause, demanding a full year on the planet instead of the standard month.
"I'll survive for a year, and the planet becomes mine."
She grabbed her broken tent, stepped onto the red alien dirt, and prepared to show the universe what a real predator looked like. Redeeming The Hearts Of My Beasts
rabb I died on an apocalyptic battlefield, only to wake up pinned down by a lead-lined blanket of my own fat.
A violent download of memories hit me. I had transmigrated into the body of an exiled, sadistic noblewoman who was three million coins in debt.
The original owner was an absolute monster. She had purchased beastman guards just to torture them for fun. In the corner of the filthy room, a golden retriever boy cowered, his back shredded by her barbed whip. In the basement, a snake guard was frozen and scarred from constant electro-shocks. When the white tiger guard returned from hard labor, he looked at me with pure, murderous hatred, ready to tear me apart to protect the others. Even the local elites kicked down my door to mock my pathetic life and try to steal my men.
I was a decorated commander who bled for humanity. Why was I trapped in this ruined vessel, bearing the sins of a degenerate abuser?
It was all a setup by her sweet-faced cousin, Debera, who stole her royal life and sent her to this outer-rim hellhole to rot.
I gritted my teeth and plunged a military-grade gene repair serum into my arm, letting the agony burn away the black filth and weakness.
"The crazy woman you knew before is dead."
I tossed a medical kit to the trembling guards, loaded my old electromagnetic pistol, and headed for the deadly Demon Hunting Zone to start my revenge. The Vampire Kings And Their Little Mate
Liz Barnet Being stimulated by three overly attractive vampires was the last thing I had ever imagined.
"Oh Jasmine, this is a sight to behold," Archer murmured,landing kisses all along my inner thighs.
Lucien broke the kiss, I could see the lust in his eyes.
Micheal took the turn to kiss me once I caught my breath and Lucien's fingers moved to spread my labia only for me to feel the unexpected lick of Archer's tongue on my clit.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head.
"Feel it..." Lucien growled into my ear, biting my earlobe, "Feel it how we pleasure you, little mate."
******
My whole life I have known my identity as a human but everything changed once I took the job in the Kings' palace as their maid and their attention fell on me.
Black Vale Dynasty was ruled by three powerful Vampire kings. Respected, Obeyed and feared they were the most dangerous predators on the earth. But when my life unknowingly gets entangled with theirs, soon the unimaginable happened—On the night of the full moon, I turned out to be their mate and this puts my whole existence under question.
They did not want to leave me but a human couldn't be the destined mate of a vampire, let alone three.
However, fate pulled the strangest game on me, linking my life to the eliminated Vaidel-Dynasty which was once ruled by the strongest vampire of all time before the rogue attack…that destroyed everything.
The Kidney He Demanded, My Life
CAMILLE BERRY Three years after my supposed death, my CEO ex-husband, Ethan Hayes, served me with a legal notice. He claimed the kidney I had donated to his new fiancée, Olivia Reed, was defective. It was absurd because I was already a ghost, tethered to him, watching him demand my reappearance.
To force me out of hiding, he publicly announced he was transferring twenty percent of his company shares to Olivia. When weeks passed with no response, his frustration turned to cold fury. He drove to my childhood home, convinced I was playing games.
My sister, Chloe, devastated, told him I had died two years ago. Ethan scoffed, calling it another one of my "desperate plays for attention." He remembered freezing my credit cards and cutting me off for supposedly assaulting Olivia. He claimed he was willing to "forgive" me if I took "responsibility." My older brother, Liam, appeared, asserting the money Ethan gave our family was the price I paid. My spirit twisted, reliving the horror: I had only one kidney, a secret Olivia exploited, knowing a single kidney transplant was a death sentence for me.
I suffered through the memory of the scalpel, the searing pain, the infection that took my life alone in a sterile room while Ethan celebrated with Olivia. My family screamed at him to check my death certificate, but Ethan, blind to the truth, said the hospital confirmed my discharge. He believed the lies Olivia paid them to tell.
His rage escalated. He unleashed dogs on my family. My beloved Buster, old and frail, was torn apart before my spectral eyes. Ethan, oblivious to my presence, then watched a triumph on his face, chillingly stating that if I didn't show up in three days, my family would suffer the same fate. Later, Olivia, playing the victim, whispered that her body was rejecting "her" kidney, lamenting "Maybe… maybe if Ava would just give me her other one…" . Ethan, with casual cruelty, told her not to worry, promising an artificial kidney.
My death certificate, anonymously delivered, forced him to confront a truth he refused to accept. He scoffed, claiming it was a fake. But as proof piled up, culminating in reports from the crematorium, his denial morphed into a terrifying obsession. He went to my grave, still convinced it was an elaborate deception. "Dig it up," he commanded. The urn was empty. Of course it was, my brother would never leave me there.
He returned to my family' s house, where Olivia was waiting, portraying a frail victim. My spirit froze as I saw the charm I had prayed over and climbed a sacred mountain for, the charm meant to protect him, now around her neck. He smashed the empty urn, demanding, "Where is she?" Liam, grief-stricken, attacked him. A crystal photo frame toppled, revealing my smiling picture, staining it with Ethan' s blood as he frantically clutched the broken glass. He finally questioned, "Is she really dead?"
Weeks later, the truth emerged; the million-dollar compensation for my kidney was never transferred to my account. It went to Olivia, and a portion was used to pay the doctors who performed my surgery. With that, and the revelation that I was born with only one kidney, Ethan had nowhere left to hide from the devastating facts. His mind fractured. He lashed out, cutting Olivia, believing he was retrieving "my" kidney. Mark, his assistant, struck him down to save Olivia. Ethan, committed to a psychiatric hospital, descended into madness, still hallucinating my presence. My spirit, tethered to him, watched his horrific unraveling.
Months later, my brother Liam, in a dream, finally heard my silent plea: "You need to get my kidney back. The one Ethan has. My body isn' t complete. I can' t move on until it is." He found it under Ethan's mattress, preserved in formaldehyde: "My Beloved Ava" etched on the jar. Liam buried it at my grave, then, with Chloe, scattered my ashes over Golden Sands Beach, my favorite place. As my spirit lifted, finally free, the news came: Ethan had died from a brain hemorrhage. Liam, embodying my legacy, transformed Ethan's manor into the "Ava Miller Sanctuary" and "Ava Miller Free Counseling Center."
This is my story of betrayal, sacrifice, and a final, bittersweet liberation. Second Life, New Rules
Jin Yi My first life ended with the smell of cheap whiskey, a throbbing leg, and the bitter irony of my ex-wife' s golden boy getting the scholarship that should have been mine. I died alone, broke, and knowing I was a failure in the eyes of my kids and the woman I' d sacrificed everything for.
Then, I woke up. The sun was hot on my face, the air thick with popcorn, and I was nineteen again, in my football uniform, standing on the side of the road. It was the homecoming parade, the exact moment my life had been destroyed.
I saw Sabrina Johns, the town' s golden girl, laughing on the wobbly float. In my past life, I' d heroically saved her from that collapsing monstrosity, letting it crush my leg and shatter my future. That act of self-sacrifice led to a lifetime of misery, a marriage fueled by her guilt and my ruined dreams. She' d always despised me, painting me as a cripple who trapped her.
To my dying breath, I thought saving her was the beginning of our tragic story. I never knew my future was already stolen, my dreams already dead, long before the float ever fell. Did my sacrifice even matter? What twisted game was this?
This time, as the float lurched and the giant hornet head tilted, I didn't move forward. I stepped back. I was back, and this time, things would be different. Reborn: Femme Fatale First Daughter
Lian Shuang Mo Xuetong has lost everything. Her mother, her child, even her servants, have been killed. Betrayed, disfigured, and alone, she dies trying to destroy the people who deceived her… …and wakes up as a child again. Given a second chance, she vows to make things different. This time she will not be a naïve child. This time she is beautiful, cold, and willing to do whatever it takes to get revenge. But her plans are disrupted when she uncovers a thirty year old conspiracy that changes everything. Will she still be able to change her fate? And even if she does, will her new fate be any better, or will her hunger for revenge destroy her? Watching My Family Burn
Shi Liu I woke up floating.
Not in a dream, but tethered to a nightmare.
My body lay cold on the bed, while my son, Leo, whispered, "Papa won't wake up."
My wife, Eleanor, stood by the door, her face a mask of ice. I was a ghost, able to watch, but powerless to intervene.
Then Julian Croft appeared, oozing charm and false sympathy. The man who'd received my liver, the root of my demise.
Eleanor dismissed Leo's desperate pleas, accusing *me* of manipulation, of using our son. She chose Julian, leaving Leo behind, a small, trembling figure in our empty home.
What followed was agony. I watched my seven-year-old journey miles to her office, only to be publicly humiliated, framed by Julian, and then viciously beaten.
Eleanor, blind to the truth, abandoned him again, leaving him bruised and alone in a dark alley.
My spirit seethed, consumed by a cold, useless rage. How could she believe such lies? How could she discard her own child so easily?
The injustice was unbearable. I was murdered, my son brutalized, and the woman I loved stood by my killer. I longed to warn her, to protect Leo, but I was just air. A silent scream.
Then Julian delivered the final blow: my little boy was tossed into the freezing Hudson River.
But as Leo's small form sank into the darkness, a desperate hope ignited. A stranger, an angel, pulled him from the depths.
My death was real, my son's suffering unbearable. And now, the true battle for justice, and for Leo's future, was about to begin. 
/1/115731/coverorgin.jpg?v=cc6fd376ec414e966a60001aeb1de7e4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/115066/coverorgin.jpg?v=7dfb9a79805537a817dd2ca46c322b09&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113685/coverorgin.jpg?v=1e73826bc4e584c9e12b01ba5932f300&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/108225/coverorgin.jpg?v=6acd82ca020189009661693382e0176f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/105391/coverorgin.jpg?v=06373d2efd8bc599ddd2b64602cede97&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/104410/coverorgin.jpg?v=22417976ea095ba641f3d43c89936c98&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/103207/coverorgin.jpg?v=9442863f18ced92195291a3b49812ebc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/93400/coverorgin.jpg?v=9134b7ebc5b9bd1fb7b6c770e66dff3b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/89211/coverorgin.jpg?v=4040a6a088490757ff29058baefe0170&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86517/coverorgin.jpg?v=8b841784b3408f27f1629dfac950bca6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85246/coverorgin.jpg?v=c312c37f00c279d737af4233abaf99d3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85112/coverorgin.jpg?v=e467ce2ee14b7630529940993b306390&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84532/coverorgin.jpg?v=b5505e4912e9a16ea807802a9f07e34d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/81610/coverorgin.jpg?v=c0a455e9b49f34289895802df21a7be1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80542/coverorgin.jpg?v=405bec541b16dbb6bf0b09cf0564da36&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/115546/coverorgin.jpg?v=1a1d208b692ea3392d1d3bfe65936e81&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/115434/coverorgin.jpg?v=b73bc3a46a239e41bba537fa0a16a3dc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/115421/coverorgin.jpg?v=d53fd6270e58a8db6fde09bae4ad1d73&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/115524/coverorgin.jpg?v=5498284ba8c24afa5f0f13ecdba2a2ee&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/29677/coverorgin.jpg?v=825ff2dbb5b74c91fa2c7fc318fc49c3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/105182/coverorgin.jpg?v=5cb742553ef3839db915d1d5dae6596c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86753/coverorgin.jpg?v=cb5b0550e0e626864a81ed2180231eb3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84152/coverorgin.jpg?v=5fc1addcbb633c16b1c6dcb5629399fb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/50929/coverorgin.jpg?v=8d73a553ad49dcb68a6baaba9160d9cf&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80096/coverorgin.jpg?v=2ea004f3dbe29fb554824db2aaacb37a&imageMogr2/format/webp)