Su Liao
19 Published Stories
Su Liao's Books and Stories
The Alpha's Broken But Defiant Mate
Fantasy Three years ago, I was framed for drugging an Alpha heir and locked away in a sterile mental institute by my own family.
Today, my older brother finally brought me home, but not to save me.
"You will make a public apology to Spencer tonight, or you go right back to the asylum."
He forced me to attend my adopted sister Yara's engagement party to confess my 'crimes' to the very man she claimed I tried to assault.
I was treated worse than a stray dog. I had to use the servants' entrance, wear a cheap maid's dress, and was nearly strangled by my other brother just for showing my face. My parents watched coldly, only caring about protecting Yara's perfect image.
But none of that compared to the heartbreak of finding my twin brother, Caleb. The only person who ever loved me was now permanently paralyzed in a wheelchair.
A werewolf should heal from any physical injury.
But Caleb told me his brakes failed right after he demanded the pack investigate my wrongful confinement, and a mysterious poison was now suppressing his healing.
It wasn't an accident. It was a calculated plot to destroy the only two legitimate heirs, all to pave the way for Yara's perfect life.
Looking at my twin's broken body, the despair in my heart cooled into a diamond-sharp resolve.
I will find a cure for him, and I will make every single person who did this to us pay a hundred times over. My Awakening: His World Falls Apart
Modern My husband Hudson had kept me a medicated ghost for three years, convinced I was unstable. But a cheap pink hair clip, tangled with golden blonde hair in his car, ripped through the chemical haze. The bitter pill he forced me to take wouldn't numb the burning truth, only fuel my awakening.
I was an architect once, but now I was just Cora, a docile wife trapped in his suffocating world. When he saw my shock, his concern was sickeningly sweet as he offered another Xanax. I pretended to swallow the poison, letting it dissolve under my tongue, a constant reminder of my awakening.
Back at the mansion, his massive car deliberately blocked mine, a crude barricade confirming his control. Then, a message from an old intern confirmed my darkest fears: this was domestic abuse. He urged me to check Hudson’s closet, to record everything.
I knew then I was living with a dangerous monster, and my denial shattered. The anger burned, fueled by the bitter taste of that undissolved pill.
That night, Hudson walked in, wearing a hideous, sloppily tied red polka-dot tie. It was a clear, undeniable sign of another woman. My architect’s mind was awake, cold and calculating. "Game on, Hudson." I would make him taste this bitterness back a thousand times. Trapped By The Ruthless Billionaire Heir
Billionaires I am a widow trapped in the powerful McMahon family, relying solely on my late husband's trust fund to survive.
But my biggest nightmare isn't my cruel in-laws; it's Kain, the ruthless heir to the empire.
He just announced his engagement to a perfect, wealthy socialite, yet he refuses to let me go. He dragged me into the shadows at his own engagement party, bruising my wrists and branding my neck, warning me that I will always belong to him.
When my mother-in-law spotted the hickey Kain left on me, she assumed I was just sleeping around. To keep my trust fund under her control, she forced me to marry Spencer, a sleazy, useless cousin.
I desperately agreed to the arrangement, hoping that becoming a married woman would finally make me off-limits to Kain.
But I underestimated a madman's obsession.
Kain crashed our matchmaking dinner at the private club. With a single sentence, he bankrupted Spencer's company, terrifying him into giving me up.
"Do you really think you're worthy of a McMahon widow?"
He has everything—the power, the money, the perfect fiancée. Why won't he just leave me alone? Why must he keep me locked in this suffocating cage?
As Kain's leg hooked around my ankle under the table, trapping me right in front of his oblivious family, a cold realization washed over me.
Running from the devil wasn't going to work. If I ever wanted to be free, I would have to destroy him. The Unwanted Wife: No Longer His Shield
Billionaires Aryanna sat in the freezing rain, watching her billionaire husband of two years gently tuck a stray hair behind his mistress's ear.
But the ultimate betrayal didn't come from her marriage. A DNA test suddenly revealed she wasn't the real Garza heiress, but a worthless orphan swapped at birth by a vengeful nurse.
Her adoptive parents immediately froze her trust funds and disowned her, ordering her to play the perfect wife just to secure a corporate merger. Stripped of her family and wealth, Aryanna thought her husband might finally show some pity. Instead, she overheard him talking to his friends in a private VIP room.
"She is the perfect shield. As long as the media and my family are focused on tearing Aryanna apart, Kaylen stays safe."
The truth shattered her completely. She wasn't a wife. She was just a meat shield meant to draw the fire away from his true love. When Aryanna later confronted the mistress, the woman faked a pathetic panic attack. Without a second thought, her husband shoved Aryanna's best friend into a wall and looked at Aryanna with absolute disgust, calling her a vicious monster.
Why was she suffering all the abuse while a professional con artist got all his protection and love?
The broken, desperate wife died in that hallway. Aryanna swung her arm and slapped his face with every ounce of strength she had left.
"The subpoena for the divorce will be on your desk tomorrow morning."
She turned her back on the billionaire and walked away. This time, she was done playing the victim. The Fake Heiress: Captured By Her Warden
Modern I was a ghost in the rafters of Sotheby’s, five floors above the most expensive pavement in New York, clutching a ten-million-dollar ledger hidden inside a drop of blood-red agate. I had the perfect exit planned, but I didn't count on Harding Bishop, a security predator who could track a shadow through a rainstorm.
When the exits were sealed and the tactical teams started swarming, I made a split-second choice to survive. I stepped out of the shadows and looked into the eyes of a billionaire socialite searching for her missing daughter, whispering a single, broken word: "Mom?"
Just like that, I wasn't a thief anymore; I was Cassandra Sterling, the heiress who had been gone for five years. But the homecoming was a nightmare. My new "sister" promised to send me back to the gutter, my "father" held a gold-plated pistol to my knee the moment the limo doors closed, and the family patriarch tried to strike me down with his cane just for breathing his air.
Every second was a high-wire act. I had to play the part of a traumatized victim while a ten-million-dollar stone was literally sewn into the raw, bleeding wound on my shoulder. If I moved wrong, I’d bleed out; if I spoke wrong, I’d be buried in the backyard of the Hamptons estate.
Harding Bishop didn't believe a word of it. He moved into the room next to mine, watching my every breath and checking my hands for gun calluses under the guise of protection. He thinks he’s the warden and I’m his prisoner, but he’s about to find out that a cornered rat is the most dangerous thing in the house.
"Sleep tight, Vesper," he whispered as he locked my door, using my real name for the first time.
He thinks he’s won, but he has no idea that I’m already reaching for the Agate hidden under my pillow, ready to burn his empire to the ground. Jilted Heiress: Rising From The Ashes
Modern I stood in the center of my Manhattan penthouse, staring at the empty satin hanger where my custom Vera Wang gown should have been. It was a masterpiece of silk and pearls that had taken six months to perfect for my wedding to the billionaire heir, Boston Travis.
Then my phone buzzed. Boston’s voice was a flat line, devoid of the love he’d promised me for four years.
"The wedding is off, Florrie. I’m marrying your sister, Asia."
He told me Asia was dying of Stage 4 cancer and her "final wish" was to be a bride—wearing my dress. He had sent his security team to my home with a spare key to steal the gown, claiming it was Travis property since his family accounts paid the bill. My stepmother texted me minutes later, demanding I vacate my own beach house so the "dying" girl could have a honeymoon.
When I tried to protest, Boston snapped at me.
"How could you be so heartless? She’s your sister. Have some compassion."
They expected me to play the part of the discarded woman while they paraded my life around as a PR stunt. I realized then that Asia hadn't just taken my dress; she had spent her entire life stealing my father's love and my peace, always playing the fragile angel while I was cast as the villain.
I didn't cry. I sat at my desk, opened my contacts, and relabeled Boston Travis as "TARGET."
If they wanted a tragic story, I would give them a massacre. I reclaimed my mother’s multi-million dollar trust, seized the deed to the beach house, and walked into Asia’s hospital room with a lit sparkler to expose the truth behind her "terminal" illness.
As I slapped Boston in the hospital lobby in front of a dozen recording iPhones, I realized I didn't need a husband. I needed a clean slate—and I was going to burn their empire to get it. My Protector: The Billionaire's Hidden Devotion
Modern In my last life, I was played for a fool by my charming fiancé, Curtis, and my jealous cousin, Chloe. He promised me the world, but it was all a beautiful illusion built on lies.
He stole my ideas, shattered my reputation, and left me broken and alone.
My death was ruled an "accident," but I knew the truth. They had orchestrated it all.
Chloe, my own cousin, stood by his side, watching with twisted satisfaction as my world burned. They took everything from me-my career, my dignity, and finally, my life.
The betrayal was a cold rage that settled deep in my bones. I couldn't understand how I had been so blind to the monster hiding behind his perfect smile.
Now, I've opened my eyes to a second chance. I'm back at the beginning, forced to choose a husband to save my family's failing company. On one side is Curtis, the charming serpent who destroyed me. On the other is the cold, ruthless Arjun Becker, a man who promises security, but at what cost?
This time, I won't be a fool. I know exactly who to choose. His Betrayal, Her Shattered Symphony
Modern I was a Grammy-winning musician, engaged to the love of my life, tech mogul Julian Watson. But on the night of my greatest triumph, he framed me for plagiarism to protect his secret lover, the pop starlet Kaylene Avila.
He leaked my private journals, and the world turned on me. An enraged fan, fueled by his lies, attacked me, leaving a scar across my face and destroying my vocal cords forever. My grandfather died from the shock.
I ran, changing my name and hiding for five years as a barista. But Julian found me. He threatened the kind old woman who'd given me a job and even my grandfather's grave. His price for their safety? I had to become Kaylene's ghostwriter.
Trapped in a luxury apartment, I was a tool for their ambition. Kaylene, wearing a bracelet Julian once gave me, smirked as she handed me her terrible lyrics.
"Don't worry, Annie," she purred. "Your voice might be gone, but your words can still be mine."
But my usefulness ran out. Kaylene arranged for me to be beaten and left for dead. As I faded into darkness, I heard her final, chilling order to "make sure she's permanently out of the picture."
What she didn't know was that my estranged sister, a federal prosecutor, had just found me.
And she was about to fake my death. His Sister-in-Law, My Hell
Romance The church doors opened, and my wedding day shattered.
My groom, Colby, turned from me at the altar, his eyes fixed on his pregnant sister-in-law, Camryn.
He led her down the aisle as if she were the bride, leaving me a statue in white lace.
He begged me to stay, promising his love, claiming duty to his dead brother.
Foolishly, I believed him, only to find Camryn' s suitcases already in our new home. Love Curdled into Cruel Hatred
Billionaires My mentor, Emily Stone, had me admitted to Serenity Hills Wellness Center, claiming it was for "stress." I knew it was to control me. But I had a secret purpose stronger than her grasp: my body donation agreement for ALS research, the only thing I had left to give as my life slipped away.
Just as I believed I' d secured my final act of defiance-enough money for a quiet exit-Emily' s security team appeared. They dragged me back to her penthouse, a gilded cage I' d inhabited for five years, ever since she blamed me for her brother Liam' s death.
Emily, fueled by a grief twisted into obsession, subjected me to endless torment, treating me as a possession to mold and punish. She mocked my weakening body, forcing me to perform impossible tasks, and unleashed her new partner, David Chen, to systematically brutalize me, physically and mentally.
The torture culminated when David, feigning a rare blood disorder, coerced Emily into crippling me for a bone marrow transplant, severing my nerves to ensure I' d never walk again. I was confined to a wheelchair, my music silenced, my body broken, betrayed by the woman I had sworn to protect.
I was left to wonder: Why did she believe such blatant lies? Why did her love for me curdle into such cruel hatred? And what was the secret that sealed my fate from the moment Liam died?
Yet, even as Emily abandoned me to a fiery death, I clung to an impossible promise. This torment, this injustice, would not be the end of my story. The Wife He Betrayed, Now Free
Romance The heavy prison gates clanged shut behind me. After five years of hell, I, Ava Smith, was finally free. My first stop, however, wasn' t a warm bed, but the county clerk' s office. I needed a divorce from Liam Johnson.
The clerk' s words hit me like a physical blow: "There's no record of a marriage between Ava Smith and Liam Johnson. This is a fake, honey." My entire marriage was a lie.
Memories flashed back-Liam, the grieving businessman, conceiving our son Ethan in a drunken haze, calling me his deceased first love. His powerful family forced him to marry me, but on our wedding night, his words were cold: "I will never love you, Ava." I played the perfect wife, loving our son with every fiber of my being.
Then, I was framed for destroying a memorial garden. Liam believed every lie, his eyes full of disgust, and sent me to prison. For five years, the thought of Ethan was all that kept me alive. My son, the same one who now screamed at me, "Mom! What did she do to you?" as he ran to my best friend, Scarlett Hayes-the woman who was supposed to be dead, now living in my home and raising my child.
"She's more of a mother to him than you ever were," Liam said, shielding them both from me. The agony was unbearable.
How could he believe her? How could my son, the child I carried and loved, hate me so fiercely? It was a betrayal beyond words.
I picked up my phone, dialing a number I hadn't used in years. "I'm not interested in my 'marriage' anymore. Or my son." The lie tasted like acid. "The children in the mountains," I said, my voice gaining strength, "they'll be my new family now." Spring After A Cold Winter
Romance The termination notice arrived, cold and impersonal, ending my three-year stint as the "unofficial queen" of Hayes Tech and Nathan Hayes' s girlfriend. Just like that, I was collateral damage for the return of Chloe Davis, his high school sweetheart and "white knight."
But then, a strange relief washed over me. This corporate execution was a stark contrast to the messy life I lived, a life already tangled in Nathan' s possessive grip.
My desk, the one Nathan himself had moved so he could "see me whenever he looked out his office window," now faced a tightly shut blind. Outside, his sleek black car pulled up, and he opened the door for Chloe, a practiced gesture of chivalry he' d never once shown me. His adoration for her was a look he reserved only for her.
He was giving her the world, and I was just the discarded memory, a piece of sidewalk furniture he walked past without a glance. My phone, once buzzing with his messages, now remained dark, a testament to his new home with Chloe.
Then came the calls from unknown numbers, the news reports of their perfect reunion. During this silent abandonment, I made several trips to the hospital, clutching papers that spelled out a truth I wasn' t ready to face.
He stayed home that night, pressing my hand to his cheek. "I' ve been so busy, I didn' t even notice you were sick." His tenderness, a poison I' d willingly consumed, was so easily mistaken for genuine affection. "Ava," he whispered after a night of desperate passion, "you' re not mad I fired you, are you?" How could I be? He was my salvation, the one who paid off my mother' s debts, the possessive voice that rumbled, "Ava, you' re my golden cage bird. The one who can never leave me."
But everything had already changed. I just didn't realize how much until Brenda, Chloe's best friend, showed up, displaying my pathetic devotion for scorn. "Homewrecker," she spat, then lunged, slapping me across the face before slamming my head against the tabletop.
Waking in a hospital bed, Nathan was there, but his concern was for Chloe' s reputation, not my pain. "Ava, Chloe is different. She's not like you. Just be good, okay?" He didn' t wipe away the single, hot tear that rolled down my temple. To him, I was a nuisance, an inconvenience.
So, I had to die for him to let me go? The words were torn from my throat, raw and desperate. He laughed, a strange, humorless sound. He couldn't see it, but I was done. It was time to settle my own accounts.
I would give him a spring he would never forget. Her Babies, His Deadly Secret
Romance On the day I was to marry Mark Chen, a text message changed everything. It was from my cousin, Chloe, a picture of her and Mark on a plane, smiling, with a single sentence: "Sorry, Sarah. We couldn' t wait." Humiliation washed over me, but then David Chen, Mark's uncle, stepped forward, offering a startling proposal: "Marry me, Sarah. Right now." He vowed to erase my shame, claiming he' d loved me for years. Numb, desperate to escape the pitying stares, I whispered, "Okay."
The first three years of our marriage were quiet, peaceful on the surface. David was the perfect husband: kind, attentive, patient. But a shadow hung over our home, woven from seven miscarriages. Each time, hope was extinguished in blood and pain, each loss carving deeper grief into my soul. David was always there, holding me, telling me we' d get through it, grieving with me. Or so I thought.
Then, during my eighth pregnancy, the familiar cramps started. I found David's study door slightly ajar and heard voices inside. It was David and his private physician. "The dosage was correct," David said, his voice flat and cold. "It' s taking a bit longer than usual, but the process has started." My blood ran cold. Dosage? Process?
"Chloe is my priority," David continued, "Mark is infertile. When Chloe gets pregnant, her child must be the sole heir. No other Chen child to complicate things." My world went silent. It wasn' t an accident. He had been poisoning me, killing my babies. Seven of them. And now, the eighth.
I stared at him, the man who had held me while I wept, and saw a stranger, a monster. Every kind word he' d ever said now tasted like poison. I had been living in a beautiful prison he had built, mistaking his deception for love. Why? What could possibly drive him to such monstrous acts against me, his wife, and our unborn children?
My rage solidified into a cold, clear purpose. I would leave him. I would uncover the full extent of his betrayal, exposing Chloe' s complicity and their dark secrets, and then I would be free. Scorned Wife, Sudden Fortune
Modern The world came back to me in fragments of pain, the profound exhaustion of thirty-six hours of labor.
They saved me, saved my daughter, and I expected relief.
Instead, I heard my husband, Ethan, from the hall, his voice light, conversational, almost cheerful.
"She' s completely torn apart down there… it' s disgusting. Like a war zone."
My breath caught.
"And her stomach," he whispered, "It' s all loose and flabby, covered in these weird purple lines. She looks like a deflated balloon. I swear, I don' t think I can ever touch her again."
My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a painful thud of realization. This was the man who had held my hand, told me I was brave.
Then the other voice, "What about the kid?"
A flicker of desperate hope ignited. He wanted a daughter so badly.
"It' s a girl," Ethan said, his voice flat. "Lily. Cries all the time. Just another thing to deal with."
The hope died.
Then his tone shifted, charming, for a phone call. "I know, I wish you were here instead. I can' t wait to see you."
A mistress.
The late nights, the secretive calls, the growing distance I' d blamed on pregnancy stress-it all clicked into place.
Tears, hot and silent, streamed from my eyes. Not sadness, but rage and a grief so profound it felt like a physical wound.
He wasn' t just shallow, he was cruel. Not just a bad husband, but a monster.
In that sterile, blood-scented room, I mourned my marriage, the man I thought I knew.
A cold, hard decision settled in my soul, listening to him coo at his lover.
My daughter would not have a father like him.
I would raise her alone.
This wasn' t the end of my pain, but it was the beginning of my fight. Poisoned Love: A Wife's Reckoning
Romance My life was a carefully curated masterpiece: a devoted husband, a lavish Upper East Side apartment, and the gentle recovery from a tragic miscarriage. I thought I had it all, even as I yearned for the child we'd lost.
Then, a whispered conversation tore through the veneer. I heard my husband, Ethan, and his colleagues, talking about "placental therapy" for another woman, Sabrina. "Jocelyn thinks she just had a tragic miscarriage," one slurred. "She' ll never know you paid that 'specialist' … All for Sabrina' s sake. Now she' s got a bun in the oven, and Jocelyn' s none the wiser."
The truth unspooled with sickening clarity. My miscarriage wasn't tragic; it was engineered. The "herbal wellness smoothies" Ethan made me every morning, meant to aid my recovery, were laced with birth control. Everything he' d done, every comforting word, every loving gesture, was a calculated lie for her benefit.
My grief turned to cold fury. The husband I loved had weaponized my body, my trust, and my desire for a family. He wasn't just having an affair; he had conspired to steal my fertility to ensure another woman carried his "true heir."
My decision was chillingly absolute. On Ethan' s "business trip" day, I drained our joint account, left only divorce papers, and vanished, ready to build a real life far from the gilded cage he' d constructed. When the Perfect Life Crumbles
Billionaires I was eight months pregnant, my life with my charismatic tech mogul husband, Ethan, seemingly perfect.
We were at a glittering gala, celebrating our success, our future family.
Then, a sudden shove sent me tumbling down a flight of stairs, triggering premature labor.
In the hospital's sterile hallway, I overheard Ethan's voice, cold and calm, making unimaginable arrangements: killing our seemingly "weak" newborn son, replacing him with his mistress Jessica's baby, and sterilizing me.
He presented me with a healthy infant, claiming it was ours while secretly poisoning me to ensure I could never conceive again.
Back at our ranch, Jessica, his mistress, openly flaunted her role as the "real" mother, nursing "our" child, showered with Ethan's attention while I was neglected and humiliated.
She even showed me a video of Ethan by my baby's incubator, moments before his death.
The man I loved, the father of my child, was a monster who planned it all-my fall, my baby's death, my sterilization.
My perfect life was a cruel, calculated lie, and my heart shattered into fragments of disbelief and searing pain.
But beneath the agony, a chilling resolve ignited.
I would play along.
I would gather every scrap of damning evidence.
I would shatter his empire just as he shattered my life.
My revenge would be cold, precise, and utterly devastating. Love's Unforeseen Path
Romance My ticket to independence hung in my hand: a documentary grant to untamed Alaska. It was my chance to escape the gilded cage of my guardian Ethan' s estate and finally shed the unrequited love I secretly harbored for him.
Then came the Tech Billionaires' Charity Gala, a final, suffocating night in his world. I watched his polished girlfriend, Isabella, subtly slip something into Ethan' s drink. My heart pounded – he was being drugged.
I got him home, and in his drugged state, a night of desperate intimacy unfolded. Later, two pink lines confirmed a terrifying, impossible joy. But the next morning, Isabella appeared, perfectly coiffed, staging a cruel charade. Ethan, disoriented, dismissed me, his heart-shattering dismissal fueled by her lies.
How could he be so blind? How could she be so utterly ruthless? My stomach clenched, the secret of our child now a bitter burden, conceived in deceit and dismissed by the man who should have been its father.
Alaska was no longer just a career move; it was an urgent, desperate flight. I would vanish from his life, carry this secret alone, praying Isabella's shadow couldn't reach me, determined to build my own future. When Love Became a Weapon
Romance My husband, Ethan, meticulously wooed me with fifty rare jazz records, each a cherished promise of our forever.
But then his new assistant, Ava, entered our lives, and his fervent gaze, once exclusively mine, began flickering with a feverish admiration solely for her.
Soon, Ava's name became a relentless hum in our home, eclipsing our shared memories and dreams, culminating in his public neglect and the chilling realization that he was building a new life, deliberately erasing ours.
His cruelty escalated: he missed our anniversary, publicly shamed me at galas, and then a terrifying physical pattern emerged—first a convenient "clumsy fall" down the stairs, then a severe allergic reaction triggered by a sedative she "offered."
The ultimate depravity struck when he callously forced me to endure a forced organ transplant surgery to benefit Ava's grandmother, reducing my body to a mere instrument for his mistress's happiness.
Watching my world disintegrate, I began a silent, desperate countdown, ritualistically shattering each record, each promise, a symbolic act of destruction for the love that was agonizingly dying before my eyes.
His actions were beyond comprehension, a calculated campaign to erase my existence, leaving me to grapple with the chilling question: how could the man I loved transform into such an utterly ruthless monster?
But when he attempted to disinherit me through a twisted, fabricated divorce, his final, shocking act of abandonment literally offering me to a predatory figure from his past, I resolved that this broken woman would become his ultimate reckoning.
From that violated hospital bed, I walked away, not as a victim, but as a survivor, armed with irrefutable evidence of his heinous crimes, fiercely determined to expose him, reclaim my shattered life, and finally find true freedom and peace under my father's unyielding protection. You might like
Marked by the Monsters I Created
Lila Maya Cross woke up in a nightmare-trapped in the body of a sadistic villain who'd tortured five powerful beastmen into submission.
Good news? She finally had the power to break their bonds and set them free.
Bad news? They were stranded on a dying ship surrounded by Zerg swarms, with zero rescue coming.
The first was Caleb, a snake beastman whose red eyes burned with pure hatred. Every time he looked at her, she saw the memory of chains and venom extraction.
The second was Finn, an aquatic beastman whose scales she'd ripped off one by one. He could barely stand to be in the same room without his hands shaking with rage.
The third was Sage, a griffin beastman she'd tormented so badly he barely went a day without fresh wounds.
The fourth was Hunter, a lion beastman she'd mocked relentlessly, calling his beast form hideous and grotesque.
The fifth was Jasper, a fox beastman whose face she'd scarred so badly he'd lost his consortium inheritance.
"Protect me until I find my father," Maya told them, drawing her own blood, "and I'll give you what you need to break our bond."
Caleb laughed bitterly. "Since when do you make deals instead of demands?"
"Since we're all dead if we don't work together."
But when survival depends on trust, can a torturer become a savior-or will her victims choose revenge over rescue? The Alpha Marshal's Regretful Annulment
Sibeal Sallese In my past life, I drugged the Imperium's most powerful Marshal, hoping to force a marriage to save my royal family from ruin.
But the cheap pheromone inducer triggered his catastrophic beast-form rampage, and my stepsister intentionally led the press to our hotel room to catch me in the act.
I became the empire's biggest joke overnight.
The Marshal's family crushed what was left of my reputation, and my own mother, the Queen, immediately stripped me of my royal title to save her own skin.
I was locked away in a mental institution for years, drowning in millions of debt, while my stepsister took my place and everything I owned.
I died alone, ridiculed and completely abandoned.
Until my dying breath, I couldn't understand why my own family set me up to take the fall, or why my desperate sacrifices only earned me their absolute disgust.
Opening my eyes again, I was back in that hotel room, the beastly Marshal growling in the bathroom.
This time, instead of crawling to him begging for love, I grabbed a military-grade suppressant and stabbed it into his neck.
Then, I sat amidst the wreckage and calmly waited for my stepsister and the reporters to burst through the door.
"I am not your prey, and I am not your cure."
This time, I would sever my ties with the royal family myself and use my future knowledge to make them all pay. After My Death, I Became A Genius
Cerise R. Wood Veronica Demoore was the girl everyone despised.
Mocked for her weight, humiliated for her grades, and crushed beneath a brutal home life, she lived every day as the target of ridicule-until the day she couldn't bear it anymore.
The world thought Veronica died that night.
But when she opens her eyes again. someone else is looking through them.
Savanna.
A woman once raised in the shadows of a powerful organization. A genius trained to survive, manipulate, and dominate. In her previous life, she had wealth, intelligence, and strength. In this one, she has none of those things-only Veronica's broken body and shattered reputation.
But weakness is temporary.
Bullies who once laughed at Veronica soon discover the girl they tormented is no longer the same.
Her mind is sharper. Her gaze is colder. And the quiet girl they used to push around now carries a dangerous confidence.
As Savanna begins transforming Veronica's life piece by piece-losing weight, exposing enemies, and rising to the top of the school-the truth behind her rebirth slowly unfolds.
Because Savanna didn't die by accident. And the people who killed her are still out there. This time, she won't be their victim. This time- she's coming for everything. Reborn To Ruin My Betraying Fiancé
Benjamen Ernst Caryn lay trapped beneath concrete slabs in the apocalyptic ruins, a steel rebar pinning her down, the pressure unbearable.
Her fiancé, Ford, knelt in the narrow gap above her, completely unharmed.
"Sorry, babe. It's a new world. Survival of the fittest."
He sneered, twisting the cap off their last bottle of purified water. He drank it all, wiped his mouth with a clean hand, and told her she would just waste it.
He had manipulated her into signing over her uncle's house-her only defensible shelter-just to sell it for cash.
Now, as a violent aftershock made the rubble groan and shift, Ford scrambled away without a single backward glance.
For five brutal years of starvation and injury, she had clung to him and her grandmother's antique locket, only to meet her end betrayed and full of agonizing regret.
Why had she been so foolish to trade her survival for a lie?
A gasp of frigid air flooded her lungs, and her eyes flew open to a smooth, white ceiling.
She wasn't in the dusty ruins; she was in her pristine silk bed sheets.
She grabbed her phone, her hands trembling as she stared at the date on the screen.
It was exactly thirty days before the world would crack apart.
She looked at the silver locket in her hand, a diamond-hard rage crystallizing in her chest.
This time, she would activate its secret, and she would strip Ford and his family of everything before the apocalypse even began. Apocalypse Rebirth: My Gold-Eating System
Quye Xiaofang She died in the apocalypse-betrayed, abandoned, and torn apart by the infected.
Then she woke up. Two months before the end of the world. Twenty-two years old again. And on her wrist, a wooden bracelet that her mother had left behind.
The bracelet came with a system. A system that eats gold.
With enough gold, she can unlock infinite storage for food, water, weapons-anything she needs to survive. The super-hurricane, the floods, the insect plagues, the volcanic winter, the scorching heat... she knows exactly what's coming.
While the world sleeps, Joanna shops. She drains her aunt's bank account, maxes out every loan she can find, and buys out half the city. The apocalypse is coming. She'll be ready.
But when the chaos begins, the wolves come crawling back-relatives who sold her, friends who betrayed her, a father who abandoned her. They want her food. Her water. Her mercy.
Joanna has a different plan.
"Why don't you decide who dies first?" After Rebirth, The Strongest Beasts Are Obsessed With Me
Alibi Elena died on the operating table, betrayed by her husband, her unborn child already gone.
But death? Just her intermission.
She woke up in a whole new world-a beastmen's world, where females are rarer than diamonds and the strongest males go mad without a woman's mark to calm them down.
And her?
Labelled the weakest female alive. An F-rank body with a joke of a status.
But hidden inside? Unlimited mental power.
Just as she's figuring out this mess, a system pops up with one hell of an offer:
Complete the missions. Bond with assigned males. Save this world.
Do all that, and you get a one-way ticket back home. for revenge.
Sounds simple? Think again.
A Wolf General, colder than a blizzard, who should have ended her-ended up letting her mark him.
A Fox Prince, all charming smiles and secret schemes, who started playing games only to lose his own heart.
A golden Dragon, sunshine-bright and fiercely possessive, who declares her his destined treasure.
A shadowy Serpent, too patient and too dangerous, watching her every move from the dark.
A Phoenix King, whose love burns so hot he'd reduce empires to cinders for her.
They all need her mark. They all want her.
And sharing? Not in their vocabulary.
Too bad for them-
She's not here for love stories.
She's here to survive.
To climb.
To turn their legendary power into her own stepping stones.
And one day.
To go back and make her betrayers wish they were never born. Apocalypse Expert in a Beastman World
Out Of Town Genevieve woke up choking on her own blood, a fatal gash tearing through her abdomen. The memories of a primitive world crashed into her mind—she had transmigrated into the body of a sadistic beastman Mistress.
But the five powerful beastmen "mates" standing over her hadn't come to her rescue. They had come to watch their tormentor die.
"We should just leave her," Kameron sneered coldly. "The scavengers will clean up the mess."
Gilberto spat in disgust, while Angelo, a silver-scaled snake-man, trembled in pure terror at the sight of her. The original owner had whipped them, humiliated them, and driven another mate to suicide. Now, they were letting her bleed out in the mud, their eyes filled with undisguised loathing and satisfaction.
She was a top-tier apocalyptic survival expert, yet here she was, paying the ultimate price for a stranger's monstrous sins. It was a bitter, unacceptable irony to die helplessly in the dirt while her supposed protectors waited for her corpse to rot.
She refused to accept this ending.
Forcing a chaotic surge of energy through their shared Biological Link, she brought all five men to their knees in agonizing pain, commanding them to carry her back. In the dark cave, without a single scream, she plunged her bare hands into a fire and brutally cauterized her own gaping wound with searing ash. As the beastmen stared in horrified awe at the unbreakable soul now occupying the tyrant's body, Genevieve wiped the blood from her face and began to rewrite her fate. Rejected By Five Alphas: Watch Me Thrive
Liz Nozick Agent Alivia Sanford opened her eyes to the suffocating stench of wild animal musk and raw sex.
She hadn't just transmigrated into a savage beastman world; she had woken up in the body of a 300-pound, diseased, and universally despised woman. Worse, the original owner had just drugged the tribe's strongest warrior, trying to force a mating.
Now, the warrior pinned her to the cave floor with murderous fury.
"You think you can trap me, you disgusting pig?" he snarled, ready to rip her throat out.
After kneeing him and escaping, a "Super Charm AI" bound to her mind demanded she conquer her five designated mates to survive. But these men treated her like a walking plague. They mocked her bloated face, threw bloody raw meat into the mud for her to eat, and publicly announced they would starve her to death. Even her own family looked at her with utter disgust.
In her past life, she was a legendary survivor who could have crushed these arrogant men with her bare hands. Now, she was trapped in a weak shell, threatened with soul erasure by a system if she didn't grovel for their affection. Why should she beg for love from beasts who wanted her dead?
Looking at the five "-100" hostility scores on her system panel, Alivia coldly drew a mental cross over each of their faces. Enduring agonizing pain, she forced her bio-manipulation ability to violently purge the toxins from her fat body. She wasn't going to play their twisted game; she was going to find her own resources and make them pay. Beast World: They Hated Me, Then I Cooked Them Dinner
Culp Waking up with a cold, scaly hand wrapped around my throat wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was realizing I'd transmigrated into the body of Terra Mason—the most despised woman in the entire Enclave. She drugged high-level beast-men and forced them into life-binding bio-contracts. She locked an aquatic warrior in a dry basement until his organs failed. She treated the most lethal males in the city like broken toys.
Zev, the Level 6 serpent who's currently choking me, would rather blow up his own heart than spend another day as my slave. His affection metric? Negative ninety. His trust? Zero.
Then my system activates: the Kore AI. It gives me exactly 500 credits, a medical nano-gel, and a recipe for neutralizing the radioactive poison in mutant meat. Real food. In this world, that's worth more than gold.
I save Rhys, the dying aquatic male everyone left for dead. I season a slab of purple mutant steak until Sam, a battle-scarred grizzly shifter, groans at the taste—and his trust points finally tick above zero. When my backstabbing ex-best friend tries to steal my males and destroy me, I don't scream or throw a tantrum like the old Terra. I dismantle her with the truth.
But earning their trust means more than grilling meat. A scorpion swarm ambushes us at midnight. Sam throws himself between me and a stinger the size of my arm. As he stands over the corpse, fur receding from his claws, he stares at me and whispers, "You were testing me."
Yes. I was. Because in this world, the weak don't survive. And I refuse to be weak again.
Four beast-men. Four contracts. One system. And a whole lot of steak. Let this dystopian wasteland know—I'm not the monster they remember. I'm worse. I'm the one who's going to feed them until they'd kill for me. Reborn To Swap Husbands With My Sister
Culprit The sensation of falling wasn't like flying; it was heavy, violent, and smelled of burning flesh. Above us, on the crumbling balcony of the Sears manor, Duke Cato Sears turned his back, shielding his cousin Bianca from the smoke as he walked away, leaving my sister Blossom and me to drop into the abyss.
As the darkness slammed shut like an iron door, I realized my entire life had been a cruel script written by the people I called family.
In my first life, I was the sacrificial lamb of the Dawson manor, sold to a man who eventually watched me die without blinking. My sister Blossom had pushed me into Cato's arms to avoid his rumors, only to laugh when the fire finally consumed us both. My father had measured my value like a piece of livestock, and my step-grandmother didn't even acknowledge my existence while I was being led to the slaughter.
I died in that fire, feeling the heat scorch my skin and the weight of a hatred so potent it tasted like bile. I spent twenty years being the weak, manipulated shadow of a girl, only to end up as nothing more than a phantom scorch mark on a "hero's" estate.
I couldn't understand why my own blood treated my life like a game they could discard. The injustice of it all burned hotter than the flames that took my last breath.
Then, I sat up, sucking in air that tasted of lavender and air conditioning, not smoke. I was back in my bedroom, three days before the engagement ball that ruined my life. Blossom stood at the door, her "sweet" mask slipping as she tried to manipulate me into the Duke's path again.
She thought she was the only one who had come back, but she didn't realize that this time, I was going to let her have exactly what she wanted: the Duke, the bankruptcy, and the living hell that awaited her in that house. 
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