Sean1
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From Brokenness To Billionaire Bride
William Jafferson My father raised seven brilliant orphans to be my potential husbands. For years, I only had eyes for one of them, the cold and distant Damien Paul, believing his distance was a wall I just had to break through.
That belief shattered last night when I found him in the garden, kissing his foster sister, Eve—the fragile girl my family took in at his request, the one I had treated like my own sister.
But the true horror came when I overheard the other six Fellows talking in the library.
They weren't competing for me. They were working together, orchestrating "accidents" and mocking my "stupid, blind" devotion to keep me away from Damien.
Their loyalty wasn't to me, the heiress who held their futures in her hands. It was to Eve.
I wasn't a woman to be won. I was a foolish burden to be managed. The seven men I grew up with, the men who owed my family everything, were a cult, and she was their queen.
This morning, I walked into my father's study to make a decision that would burn their world to the ground. He smiled, asking if I'd finally won Damien over.
"No, Dad," I said, my voice firm. "I'm marrying Hunter Beach." My Identity Was Stolen
Hydro Therapy The last thing I felt was the pillow smothering my face, the cheap floral scent filling my lungs as my struggles grew weaker.
Through the ringing in my ears, I heard Ms. Davis' s chilling hiss: "You crazy girl, how dare you disrupt the young lady' s party! I' ll kill you!"
She wasn' t lying. My life, so bright just hours before, was ending in a dark, dusty storage room.
It all began on my graduation day, Sarah Miller, the valedictorian, standing on stage. But when I arrived at my family home for the lavish celebration, the doors were shut, my key wouldn' t turn.
Inside, through the window, I saw Emily Davis, my guardian' s daughter, wearing my dress, accepting congratulations from my friends, being called by my name.
A cold wave of nausea washed over me. I pounded on the door, screaming, "Let me in! I' m Sarah Miller! That' s an imposter!"
No one believed me. They saw a frantic, disheveled girl and a poised, elegant young woman inside. Ms. Davis slapped me, shrieking, "How dare you disrupt the young lady' s party! I' ll kill you!"
They dragged me away, threw me into a windowless storage room, and locked me in. Hours later, Ms. Davis returned with a pillow.
"You just couldn' t leave it alone, could you?" she whispered. "You make too much noise."
Then, she pushed it down.
My consciousness dissolved into suffocating blackness.
Then, I gasped, shooting upright. Sunlight streamed through a familiar window. I was in my bed, in my room at the Davis house.
My heart pounded. The floral scent was gone. No pain, no darkness.
My phone rang, a shrill, insistent sound. The screen lit up with a date. It was the day my college admission results were announced.
I wasn' t dead. I was back. Five Years Too Late, Ryan
Nero Daniels My daughter Lily hadn't seen her father in five years, so her joyful cry of "Daddy!" echoed through the sterile mansion as she ran to him.
But his eyes were not for her.
Jessica Hayes, his "one true love," stood beside him, her feigned trip and cry sending him into a panic.
He scooped her up, his face contorted with concern, then shot a venomous look at our innocent five-year-old.
"Lock her in the master bedroom closet. Three days. No food."
My blood ran cold.
"Ryan, no! Please, you can't!"
"She has asthma, Ryan. She'll suffocate!"
He scoffed, accusing me of lies and manipulative ploys.
The guards, impervious to my pleas, ripped Lily from my arms.
"Mommy! Mommy, I'm sorry!" she shrieked, carried away.
That night, her terrified cries faded to desperate whimpers.
"Please, Mommy... can't... breathe..."
I pounded on the door until my fists were raw, screaming for them to let her out.
The whimpers stopped.
The closet door opened.
Lily lay there, blue, not moving, not breathing.
Unconscious from lack of oxygen.
The ambulance siren wailed as I sank to the waiting room floor.
My phone buzzed.
It was Instagram.
Jessica Hayes, pouting in a hospital bed with a tiny scratch.
Her caption: "Mr. Peterson is so generous! I only scraped my knee and he gave me two luxury apartments as compensation. I guess I'll forgive you now~"
Geotagged from a luxury hospital across town.
Where our daughter wasn't.
He gifted her apartments for a scraped knee, while our child suffocated.
A cold numbness spread through me.
"Grandma," I whispered, bowing my head to Mrs. Peterson.
"Love cannot be forced. Please... let him be with Jessica. I just want to take Lily and leave."
My fresh wounds throbbed, tears mixing with blood.
I showed her the post, the address of our marital home given away.
Mrs. Peterson's face blazed with fury.
"That scoundrel! That worthless boy!"
"Call that bastard and tell him to get his ass to this hospital immediately!"
But it was too late.
If Grandma's scolding worked, Lily would never have been locked in that closet. The Price of a Perfect Angel
Maui The cold steel of a knife slid between my ribs, and the last thing I remember was the shock on my best friend Wendy' s face – not that I was dying, but that she needed the perfect angle for her livestream.
She narrated my demise, blaming me for trying to sleep with a trucker, her voice sickly excited as notifications pinged with hateful comments like "Serves her right" and "Stupid slut."
I died on the dirty floor of a truck cabin, my blood pooling around me, smeared as a whore, utterly betrayed by the person I trusted most.
My last breath was a gasp of disbelief, wondering how I could have been so blind to her jealousy and malice.
Then, I gasped again, only this time the air was clean, not thick with diesel and blood, and I was back in my law firm's breakroom, staring at a saccharine-smiling Wendy, who was about to propose the very trip that led to my murder. ENRAGED SOUL
otu Harriet Laura was a bold, courageous, gorgeous, intelligent young lady who always stood out for herself. She always fought for her right and never allowed anyone to look down on her , her family nor her friends.
She was known as the most brilliant and talented student in her class. This irritated some of her mates and led to the plot of her attack to tame her.
" Hold her, let's see how her intelligence works this time...", Ben exclaimed, landing a huge slap on her cheek.
Patrick and Fred held her tightly, chuckling and teasing.
They molested and bullied her until she passed out.
" Wait, Ben, I think we killed her....", Fred cried
" Shut up, what do you know? She's just doing that to scare us...."
" No, Ben...I think he's right...we killed her..."
" Oh, my God...what should we do..."
Join me on this journey while we find out what they did to her body and the outcome of their action.
ENRAGED SOUL;The revenge of a traumatized girl My Family's Faith, My Bloody Fate
Landslide It started on the one-year anniversary of my return, a day meant for joy.
Instead, my family, devout and God-fearing, brutally murdered me.
My brother, my protector, became a "defiler" screaming monster, my father, a man of God, cut off my hand with a rusty saw, and my mother, once overjoyed, called me an "abomination."
They threw my bleeding body into a silo, sealing the hatch, and as I died, I only had one question: Why?
It was the locket. The small, carved wooden locket my sister, Esther, had given me moments before, a "welcome home" gift that instantly turned my loving family into rabid killers.
Somehow, I woke up. It' s the same day, the same anniversary. Esther is coming up the stairs, the locket in her hand, about to give me the gift that will trigger their bloodlust again.
This time, I refuse. But Esther is cunning, and soon, I'm dodging my family's crazed attacks, desperately trying to expose their dark beliefs to the authorities. They look at me like I' m simply a troubled girl with an overzealous family.
Knowing the law won't stop their fanaticism, I have no choice but to use their own twisted faith against them, no matter the cost, to finally break free. I Tamed the Monster He Sent
Luo Chengfeng The last thing I saw was Thunder’s bloodied jaws, closing in on me.
My daughter, Sophia, lay broken a few feet away, already gone.
Pain, then darkness.
Then, with a gasp, I bolted upright, my heart hammering like a drum.
I was back on the same rough porch, facing the same smug smirk of Old John.
At the end of his chain was Thunder, the Australian Cattle Dog who had butchered my child and me.
“Heard you were back in town, Isabella,” Old John rasped, his voice a cruel mockery of a welcome.
“Brought you a little housewarming gift,” he added, pulling the chain as Thunder whined, straining to reach me, just like that first time.
The memory crashed over me: Thunder’s lunge, the searing agony as his teeth tore my thigh, the hot gush of blood, and then, Sophia’s petrified screams followed by chilling silence as he turned to her.
Old John had known my paralyzing fear of dogs, yet he had specifically brought this hulking beast to torment me.
He had laughed when I pleaded, ignoring the danger, using the dog as his personal weapon.
Every horrifying detail, every agonizing moment of Sophia’s brutal death and my own demise, flooded my mind with chilling clarity.
But this time, as Thunder lunged forward once more, I forced my trembling legs to stop.
No. Not again.
This time, things would be different. Reborn to Reign: A Mother's Fury
ffssg My name is Sarah, and I remember the cold.
Not the chill of winter, but the stainless-steel table against my back.
My sons, Michael and Gabriel, were gone, their screams replaced by silence.
My husband David, blinded by ambition, led us to that abandoned clinic.
His sister, Veronica, craved an heir for her powerful husband, Senator Harrison.
She believed my "Legacy Fertility" and my children's "vital essence" could help her.
A quack "expert" performed monstrous acts on my seven-year-old twins.
Then it was my turn; they brutally harvested my ovarian tissue.
I was left to bleed out on a filthy floor, my insides torn.
I died there, a vow of revenge frozen on my lips.
Later, I saw Veronica on the news, pregnant and glowing with what she stole.
But then, warmth. Sunlight.
My eyes snapped open to my own familiar bedroom.
Michael was on my chest, Gabriel curled beside me, both alive, young, and whole.
The calendar read October 14th—the very day it all began.
The memory slammed into me: David's averted eyes, the isolated building, Veronica's cold voice, Michael's terror, Gabriel's whimper.
This wasn't a dream; this was a second chance.
Veronica, triumphant in my first life, had risen on my family's ashes, her belly swelling with a lie while mine was emptied by her greed.
No. Not again.
This time, I wouldn't just survive.
I would take everything she had, everything she wanted.
Her husband. Her position. Her future.
My revenge would be absolute, and my children would live. The game had begun. 
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