Woke Up A Stranger, Found My Love

The Secretary He Rejected Is The Alpha King's Daughter

For seven years, I suppressed my Alpha aura and took sickening drugs to pass as a human secretary. All to win a bet with my father, the Alpha King, that Dante loved me for my soul, not my bloodline. But tonight, Dante proved me wrong in the most public way possible. While I sat in a taxi, a Times Square billboard lit up with his face. He wasn't working late as he claimed. He was holding a waitress named Lola, announcing her as his future Luna because she could "breed strong pups" and I was just a "useful tool." When I arrived at the office to confront them, Lola didn't just mock me. She slapped my face and smashed my mother's silver locket under her heel. She laughed, thinking she had destroyed a cheap trinket belonging to a weak human. "You are prey, Seraphina," she sneered. "And you are trespassing in the wolf's den." She didn't realize that the locket wasn't protecting me from them. It was protecting them from *me*. With the seal broken, the air in the room instantly dropped twenty degrees. My eyes shifted from brown to glowing liquid silver. They thought they were discarding a broken secretary. They had no idea they had just declared war on the Royal Family. I picked up the phone and dialed the most feared number in the werewolf world. "Papa," I said, stepping over the shattered silver. "The masquerade is over. Bring the helicopters."

My Heart, His Spare Part

My bodyguard, Grant, took the full force of a speeding car meant for me. In that moment, I realized I loved him. He was my protector, and I thought his fierce devotion was mine alone. But in the hospital, I overheard the truth. He hadn't saved me; he'd saved my kidney. I wasn't the woman he loved. I was just the "best option" for his sick sister's transplant. Every tender gesture, every watchful glance, was a lie designed to keep his organ donor safe and compliant. The man I adored saw me as nothing more than a collection of spare parts. The love I thought we shared was a carefully constructed trap, and I had been the fool who walked right in. The girl who believed in fairy tales died in that sterile hospital hallway. I picked up my phone, my hand steady. "Dad," I said, my voice cold as ice. "I'm ready to consider the alliance with the Powell family."

The Transactional Marriage: Her Bitter Ascent

The first time my husband, Gregory, chose a billion-dollar deal over my father' s funeral, I knew our marriage was a transaction. But when he started canceling meetings for an actress named Kennedy, I realized he was capable of love-just not for me. Then came the whispers of his devotion: buying her a theater, brawling with a director who criticized her. My investigation led to a "warning"-a hit-and-run that left me hospitalized. His assistant's message was chilling: "Accidents do happen." At the police station, after he'd been in another fight for her, Kennedy pointed at me and wailed, "Make her kneel! Make her apologize for breathing the same air as us!" Gregory' s cold eyes met mine. "Christie," he commanded, his voice deadly quiet. "Kneel."

Shattered Vows: The Don's Runaway Queen

I was the Queen of New York, the untouchable wife of the city's most feared Mafia Don, Liam Goldstein. But my throne was built on quicksand. It started with a photo of a hotel receipt and a tangle of lingerie sent to my phone. It ended with a listening device I planted, hearing my husband tell his mistress that I was just a "decoration" while she would bear his heir. The humiliation reached its peak at the charity gala. His mistress, Ava, marched in wearing my jewelry, claiming my husband in front of the city's elite. When I tried to leave, Liam grabbed me. I fell. I hit the floor hard, and the pain in my stomach was blinding. I lay there on the ballroom parquet, bleeding out in my white gown, losing the unborn son Liam claimed he wanted more than anything. But he didn't kneel to help me. Terrified of a scandal, he shielded his mistress from the paparazzi and walked away, leaving me to die amidst the champagne and diamonds. I woke up in a hospital bed with an empty womb and a "sorry" check from his lawyer. He thought money could fix a dead child. He thought I would just go back to being his ornament. He was wrong. That night, I initiated the Phoenix Plan. I planted my DNA in a car wreck, drove it to the docks, and watched it explode into a fireball. To the world, and to Liam, Maya Goldstein is dead. But I’m very much alive. And I’m going to burn his empire to the ground.

Betrayal's Scars, A New Beginning

Today was my ninth wedding anniversary, and I lay in a hospital bed, recovering from a hysterectomy. My husband, Mark, sent a diamond necklace, but instead of him, a young woman' s voice answered his phone. "This is Emily. Please, don' t do this to Mark." Her tearful plea implied she had picked out my anniversary gift with him. He then agreed to a divorce-eagerly, relieved-hanging up before I could speak. He never showed up at the courthouse. He promised to meet me. He broke that promise. Two months later, he stumbled home, drunk, offering me a luxury watch as if it could erase his betrayal. "A divorce? We' re not getting a divorce," he slurred. I saw him days later, laughing intimately with Emily at a café, while I was dealing with more than just a broken marriage. "I have uterine cancer." The words were out, shattering the fragile peace. "You have cancer and you' re telling me now? How could you keep that from me?" he shouted, not out of concern, but anger at how it looked. He raged about losing control, about how this affected him, not once asking about my pain. I had been alone in a hospital bed, recovering from surgery, while he was at a gala with Emily, the "close companion," the night of my surgery. He thought I was making a scene, when he was the one who had brought Emily to his parents' home, to Lily' s birthday party. His mother praised Emily, who' d planned my daughter' s party. They all stood there, a united front: Mark, his parents, and his mistress, making me the villain. His cruelty was breathtaking. "She' s just bitter," he announced to the silent room. "She' s bitter because she' s not a complete woman anymore. She had to have a hysterectomy. She has cancer. She can' t have any more children. She' s broken." He had taken my deepest vulnerability, my illness, and used it as a weapon to humiliate me publicly. Something inside me snapped. I slapped him, hard, the sound echoing through the stunned silence. Emily shrieked and lunged, but I sidestepped, and she crashed into a table. "It' s all yours," I said, my voice ringing with finality. "You can have him. You can have this whole rotten family. We' re done." I walked out, hand in hand with my daughter, leaving the wreckage behind.

Reborn Wife: Choosing Love Anew

The grand hall reeked of old money and lilies, a scent that now made my stomach clench. This was it: Dad' s insane "heir selection ceremony." He called it securing the family legacy, but it was just another bizarre power play. My twin sister, Emily, and I stood before him while he gestured to two men. One, Alex, was a struggling startup founder, awkward but kind. The other, Liam, was a tech prodigy, brilliant but comatose, hooked up to humming machines. The rules were simple, and savagely unfair: One of us would marry Alex, and the other, Liam. Emily, as always, got to choose first. I watched her, my perfect, ambitious twin. She didn' t hesitate, and a painful echo resonated deep within me. I' d lived this before. In my first life, Emily snatched Alex, leaving me with the silent man in the bed, scoffing, "Sarah' s quiet enough for him." Her life with Alex was a gilded cage of public performance. Mine, a shadow empire under Liam' s thumb. He wasn't comatose; he was awake, a spider spinning a web of illegal projects, and I was his hostage. I became rich beyond imagination, but I was living a nightmare. Emily, blinded by envy, saw only my wealth. She couldn' t bear my "success" while her own life crumbled under the weight of society's expectations. Her jealousy consumed her, driving her to orchestrate my ruin, ultimately leading to her own dramatic, fatal car crash. I woke up, back in this hall, the scent of lilies suffocating me. It was the heir selection ceremony, the day it all began again. Emily, glowing with confidence, looked between Alex and Liam, then at me. A predatory smile, so unlike her first-life triumph, spread across her face. "Sister," she purred, her voice sweet as poison, "It' s my turn to enjoy the good life now." She turned to our father, chin high. "I choose Liam." A stunned silence fell. She thought she was taking my power, my secret. She thought she had found the path to immense wealth. She had no idea. She had just chosen the monster. And in doing so, she had set me free.

THE LYCAN KING'S TREASURED LUNA

Narine never expected to survive. Not after what was done to her body, mind, and soul. But fate had other plans. Rescued by Supreme Alpha Sargis, the kingdom's most feared ruler, she finds herself under the protection of a man she doesn't know... and a bond she doesn't understand. Sargis is no stranger to sacrifice. Ruthless, ambitious, and loyal to the sacred matebond, he's spent years searching for the soul fate promised him, never imagining she would come to him broken, on the brink of death, and afraid of her own shadow. He never meant to fall for her... but he does. Hard and fast. And he'll burn the world before letting anyone hurt her again. What begins in silence between two fractured souls slowly grows into something intimate and real. But healing is never linear. With the court whispering, the past clawing at their heels, and the future hanging by a thread, their bond is tested again and again. Because falling in love is one thing. Surviving it? That's a war of its own. Narine must decide, can she survive being loved by a man who burns like fire, when all she's ever known is how not to feel? Will she shrink for the sake of peace, or rise as Queen for the sake of his soul? For readers who believe even the most fractured souls can be whole again, and that true love doesn't save you. It stands beside you while you save yourself.

When Love Is A Lie

Katherine endured mistreatment for three years as Julian's wife, sacrificing everything for love. But when his sister drugged her and sent her to a client's bed, Katherine finally snapped. She left behind divorce papers, walking away from the toxic marriage. Years later, Katherine returned as a radiant star with the world at her feet. When Julian saw her again, he couldn't ignore the uncanny resemblance between her new love and himself. He had been nothing but a stand-in for someone else. Desperate to make sense of the past, Julian pressed Katherine, asking, "Did I mean nothing to you?"

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

Traded Husbands, Tangled Hearts: Can Destiny Be Changed?

In their previous lives, Gracie married Theo. Outwardly, they were the perfect academic couple, but privately, she became nothing more than a stepping stone for his ambition, and met a tragic end. Her younger sister Ellie wed Brayden, only to be abandoned for his true love, left alone and disgraced. This time, both sisters were reborn. Ellie rushed to marry Theo, chasing the success Gracie once had-unaware she was repeating the same heartbreak. Gracie instead entered a contract marriage with Brayden. But when danger struck, he defended her fiercely. Could fate finally rewrite their tragic endings?

The Convict Heiress: Marrying The Billionaire

The heavy thud of the release stamp was the only goodbye I got from the warden after five years in federal prison. I stepped out into the blinding sun, expecting the same flash of paparazzi bulbs that had seen me dragged away in handcuffs, but there was only a single black limousine idling on the shoulder of the road. Inside sat my mother and sister, clutching champagne and looking at my frayed coat with pure disgust. They didn't offer a welcome home; instead, they tossed a thick legal document onto the table and told me I was dead to the city. "Gavin and I are getting engaged," my sister Mia sneered, flicking a credit card at me like I was a stray dog. "He doesn't need a convict ex-fiancée hanging around." Even after I saved their lives from an armed kidnapping attempt by ramming the attackers off the road, they rewarded me by leaving me stranded in the dirt. When I finally ran into Gavin, the man who had framed me, he pinned me against a wall and threatened to send me back to a cell if I ever dared to show my face at their wedding. They had stolen my biotech research, ruined my name, and let me rot for half a decade while they lived off my brilliance. They thought they had broken me, leaving me with nothing but an expired chapstick and a few old photos in a plastic bag. What they didn't know was that I had spent those five years becoming "Dr. X," a shadow consultant with five hundred million dollars in crypto and a secret that would bring the city to its knees. I wasn't just a victim anymore; I was a weapon, and I was pregnant with the heir they thought they had erased. I walked into the Melton estate and made an offer to the most powerful man in New York. "I'll save your grandfather's life," I told Horatio Melton, staring him down. "But the price is your last name. I'm taking back what's mine, and I'm starting with the man who thinks he's marrying my sister."

Inferno Heiress: Freed From Hell To Reclaim My Empire

Hayley was betrayed by those who should have loved her most. To save their precious adopted daughter from a punishment she deserved, her own parents sent Hayley straight into a living hell—an infamous prison where survival demanded cruelty, and weakness meant death. Four years later, the girl who had entered those iron gates no longer existed. She emerged with a single, unbreakable rule carved into her soul: Every betrayal would be repaid tenfold. The day she walked free, the world trembled. A convoy of luxury cars lined the road. A legion of loyal followers awaited her triumphant return. Her father tried to buy her silence with money. But money had long lost its power over her. Her adopted sister hid behind sweet words and false kindness. But empty smiles no longer fooled her. Everything that had once been stolen would be reclaimed—piece by piece. When her parents attempted to tie themselves to the city's most feared man by offering their adopted daughter, Hayley's lips curved into a cold smirk. "Not on my watch." Backed by a legendary hacker, shadowy allies, and an entire prison willing to burn the world for her, Hayley dismantled her enemies with terrifying precision. Then the tyrant noticed her. "You're interesting," he said. "Be my woman, and the city is yours." Hayley raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You want to own me? Survive me first." High society became their battlefield. Power collided with desire. Ambition clashed with obsession. In this ruthless game of dominance and temptation, only one would kneel first. The girl once abandoned in hell rose from its ashes, crowned by fire and vengeance—And in the end, even the most feared ruler in the city would bow, offering his empire to the woman who had conquered both hell… and him.