TOP
Three years into the apocalypse, I thought Caleb and I were a team, a family. Then I watched his hand stroke my younger sister Chloe' s knee, his thumb drawing slow, deliberate circles. He' d always protected me... or so I thought, until he publicly discarded me, allowing his men to hurt and humiliate me, all while my sister pretended to be ill, framing me with a raw egg and reveling in my pain. How could he betray me like this? How could my own sister hate me so much? As I lay broken and humiliated, a memory flashed: Liam, the kind-faced man from another life who had always tried to save me. This time, I' d take matters into my own hands.
Three years into the apocalypse, I thought Caleb and I were a team, a family.
Then I watched his hand stroke my younger sister Chloe' s knee, his thumb drawing slow, deliberate circles.
He' d always protected me... or so I thought, until he publicly discarded me, allowing his men to hurt and humiliate me, all while my sister pretended to be ill, framing me with a raw egg and reveling in my pain.
How could he betray me like this? How could my own sister hate me so much?
As I lay broken and humiliated, a memory flashed: Liam, the kind-faced man from another life who had always tried to save me. This time, I' d take matters into my own hands.
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Werewolf
My five-year contract as his placeholder Luna ended when he left me bleeding in his car to comfort the woman who attacked me. He publicly announced my abandonment through the pack's mind-link, then stormed back to the house to accuse me of stealing a priceless necklace from her. He felt the fated mate bond spark between us, called it a cheap trick, and threw me in a silver-lined cell when the necklace was "found" in my bag. My mother had to trade the last relic of our fallen pack just for my freedom, and we were exiled with nothing. His final command to me, his true mate, was to go kneel and apologize to the woman who framed me. Instead, I severed our sacred bond. And as I stepped into exile, a rival Alpha was waiting, offering me the power to burn his entire world to the ground.
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Billionaires
My wife, Chloe, swept into our grand foyer, her familiar bright smile in place, another "soulmate" in tow-a fresh-faced influencer named Daniel. I was in my studio, painting a serene landscape, the antithesis of the chaos she embodied. She had a new project: Daniel needed my art studio, the only sanctuary I had left in our gilded cage, for his "content hub." "You said you wanted a clean slate for Daniel," I told her, my heart a hollow ache, as she beamed, thinking I was finally being "reasonable." In my last life, I had fought, pleaded, and eventually broken, losing my studio, my art, and then everything. Chloe, oblivious, wired me a fortune-pocket change to her, but to me, seed money for her demise. I saw the number on the screen, a grim smile touching my lips. Little did she know, this wasn' t payment; it was her first installment on her own ruin. I was reborn, and this time, the canvas of my life would be painted with her downfall.
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Romance
For eight years, I loved Olivia, a silent battle against her family's disdain for the "poor scholar" who married their heiress, especially since we remained childless. Then, Brandon arrived-a country boy her grandfather handpicked to be the family's heir, meant to replace me. Olivia, drunk after a fight, had my replacement's child. I forgave her, blinded by love, only to find her secretly still seeing him. The final betrayal shattered everything: Olivia sold me out to kidnappers, begging me to die in Brandon' s place to save her family's "future." Dumped in a brutal jail cell, I endured a horrific beating. The call Brandon made to my father, describing my torture, triggered his fatal heart attack. How could the woman who once shielded me with her own body become this monster? How could she sacrifice everything for a man she claimed was a mistake? What depths of manipulation had I fallen prey to? Lying broken and battered, with my father dead because of her choices, I finally understood. The naive husband died in that cell. And a promise was forged in fire: I would burn her world to the ground.
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Modern
My son, Caleb, lived for music. Every strum, every hum, filled our small Rust Belt home with joy. When legendary producer Anthony Lester swooped him off to Nashville, it felt like his dream was finally coming true. Then the music stopped. For two months, all I got were slick, pre-recorded messages and B-roll videos, until a shaky clip revealed a raw, red burn on his hand, and a terrified flicker in his eyes before he yanked it away. I flew to Nashville, only to be branded a crazy mother and turned away from the studio by a condescending assistant. Then, a new music video teaser dropped, supposedly showcasing "authentic art," but it was my son, Caleb, being brutally beaten on camera, his genuine terror dismissed as "method acting." The local sheriff, bought and paid for by the studio, merely smirked, telling me to take the "signing bonus" money and go home. How could this be happening? How could a mother watch her child being tortured and find every door slammed in her face, the world calling his torment "art"? Watching his gaunt face on a live stream, pumped full of drugs, unable to remember the name of his own childhood dog, I knew the system had failed him. But they forgot one thing: I wasn' t just a cleaning lady from a forgotten town. I was the widow of Sergeant David Johns, a Medal of Honor recipient, and the Army does not forget its own.
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Modern
My sorority sister, Brittany, always seemed like the perfect friend – sweet, glamorous, always ready with a helpful suggestion. But that sweetness was a lie, a poison. It started with a phony survey, then quickly escalated. My SSN, my bank details, all stolen overnight for a "$3,000 loan" I never truly asked for. That loan spiraled to $9,000, and soon, Brittany' s "help" forced me into something far darker – an "escort service" tied to her family's hidden cruelties. The fabricated photos, the rumors, the shame – it all broke my parents. Their car crash, the one that erased them from my life, was no accident. It was the crushing weight of their daughter' s fabricated ruin, orchestrated by the girl who smiled in my face. My rage burned even hotter than the fire in my gut when I finally collapsed, only to realize, in that fleeting moment between life and oblivion, the bitter truth: their entire scheme was illegal. Unenforceable. A sham. Knowledge that came too late. They stole everything: my future, my family, even my last breath. But then, my eyes snapped open. I was back. September 14th. The day it all began, the day Brittany first whispered about that loan. And this time, she wouldn' t just trick me. This time, I knew her game. Every single move. My blood ran cold as her sugary voice called from the door. "Kayla? You in there?" The nightmare was vivid, but so was my resolve. She thought I was an easy mark. She thought wrong. This time, I' m the one setting the trap.
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Modern
My adoptive family always treated me as their golden child, until I stumbled into a dusty storage room at Grandfather Harrison's 90th birthday celebration. There, I found it: my deceased sister Chloe' s SAT score report, showing near-perfect scores that shattered everything our wealthy New England family had ever told me about her "instability." I innocently showed it to my father, expecting pride or explanation. Instead, his face turned a mottled red, my mother's teacup rattled, and Grandfather dramatically collapsed right before my eyes. Within hours, I was disowned, my entire life-my job, my funds, my home-ripped away, leaving me bewildered and clutching the damning piece of paper. The family called me "disrespectful," my uncle called me "ungrateful," and my own mother, without a flicker of warmth, commanded security to "pack Mr. Ethan' s bags immediately." I was thrown out, abandoned, and even brutally assaulted by my father and uncles when I tried to visit my "dying" grandfather in the hospital. Why? Why would a dead girl's academic scores trigger such a violent, absolute betrayal from the people who raised me? My memories of Chloe, fragmented and disturbing, hint at a darker truth. Then, my mother's voice, strained and chilling, revealed the real reason for my grandfather's "stroke": "He was already gone, Ethan. Two weeks ago. It was all a lie." A cold certainty settled in my gut: Chloe's death, my family's obsession with secrecy, and my sudden banishment are all connected to a truth too monstrous to contain. And I, the discarded son, will unearth every single buried secret at my grandfather's sham funeral.
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Janice had seen Karl's affection and felt his betrayal. On their anniversary, while she was in pain and bleeding, Karl left her on the street to see his lover. She bore it and tricked him into signing the divorce papers. "I want you gone!" After divorce, she reclaimed her status as a billionaire heiress, with her three brothers doting on her and making her a rich darling. When Karl saw what he'd thrown, he regretted it. He tore up the divorce papers. "I don't agree to the divorce!" Declan moved through high society as an untouchable man. Janice avoided him, but they kept meeting. At a party, her ex harassed her. Declan came and saved her. She thanked him, only for him to whisper, "Don't thank me. Marry me?" ***
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For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.
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From childhood, Stephanie knew she was not her parents' real daughter, but out of gratitude, she turned their business into a powerhouse. Once the true daughter came back, Stephanie was cast out-only to be embraced by an even more powerful birth family, adored by three influential brothers. The second ruled the battlefield. "Stephanie's sweet and innocent; she would never commit such crimes. That name on the wanted list is just a coincidence." And the youngest controlled the markets. "Anyone who dares bully my sister will lose my investment." Her former family begged for forgiveness-even on TV. Stephanie stood firm. When the richest man proposed, she became the woman everyone envied. The eldest ran the boardroom. "Cancel the meeting. I need to set up the art exhibition for my sister!" The town was turned upside down.
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Everyone in town knew Amelia had chased Jaxton for years, even etching his initials on her skin. When malicious rumors swarmed, he merely straightened his cuff links and ordered her to kneel before the woman he truly loved. Seething with realization, she slammed her engagement ring down on his desk and walked away. Not long after, she whispered "I do" to a billionaire, their wedding post crashing every feed. Panic cracked Jaxton. "She's using you to spite me," he spat. The billionaire just smiled. "Being her sword is my honor."
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I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved. He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again. "Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports. For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian. In return, he treated me like furniture. He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste. I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home. So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco. I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage. But I underestimated Dante. When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat. He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away.
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Arabella, a state-trained prodigy, won freedom after seven brutal years. Back home, she found her aunt basking in her late parents' mansion while her twin sister scrounged for scraps. Fury ignited her genius. She gutted the aunt's business overnight and enrolled in her sister's school, crushing the bullies. When cynics sneered at her "plain background," a prestigious family claimed her and the national lab hailed her. Reporters swarmed, influencers swooned, and jealous rivals watched their fortunes crumble. Even Asher-the rumored ruthless magnate-softened, murmuring, "Fixed your mess-now be mine."


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