Fatal Infatuation: You're My Final Dreaming

The Alpha's Lost Luna: Too Late for Redemption

For nine years, I was the "Wolfless Wonder," the shame of the Reyes Pack. I swallowed bitter suppressants every morning to hide my identity as a rare White Wolf, enduring my husband’s coldness just to stay by his side. But tonight, Alpha Dominick shattered whatever bond we had left. He walked into the Annual Gathering with his mistress, Chastity, clinging to his arm, pregnant and smug. When Chastity staged a miscarriage and blamed me, Dominick didn't ask for the truth. He dragged me to the hospital. "She needs blood," he snarled. "O-Negative. Like yours." He used the Alpha Command to force me onto the table. He watched as they drained me dry to save the woman destroying my life. "Alpha, her heart rate is dropping!" the doctor warned. "It will kill her!" Dominick didn't even flinch. "Keep going," he ordered. "Take what you need until Chastity is safe." As the machine beeped and darkness took me, the submissive wife died. I woke up in the morgue holding cell and made a choice. I signed the divorce papers, set the penthouse on fire, and vanished into the night. He thought I burned to death. He didn't know I escaped. Months later, he tracked a ghost to a vineyard in London. But he didn't find the broken girl he sacrificed. He found the White Wolf, glowing with silver magic, standing beside a new mate who actually cherished me. Dominick fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. "Annis, come home. I command you." I looked down at him and smiled. "Your voice doesn't work on me anymore, Alpha. You killed the part of me that listened."

Humiliated Heiress: A Quest For Justice

I was ambushed in my guardian's Hamptons estate by his son's fiancée, Kaitlyn. Accusing me of being a homewrecker, she and her friends began live-streaming my public humiliation. They beat me, destroyed my father's priceless business legacy, and forced me to my knees to beg for forgiveness on camera. They shattered the last photo of my parents and then, after I groveled, crushed my mother's locket under their heels anyway. My world was a blur of pain and confusion. Julien was like a brother to me. Harvey, his father, was my legal guardian. The accusation made no sense. Just as they were about to strip me naked for their audience, Harvey arrived, his face a mask of thunder. But the real shock came later, when a terrified Kaitlyn confessed the truth. The attack wasn't about jealousy. It was a calculated act of revenge for a decades-old family feud, and Harvey's own son, Julien, was the secret mastermind who had set me up to be destroyed.

The Sister He Scorned, Now Adored

For sixteen years, my step-brother Holden Wolf was my entire world. Every design I sketched, every dream I harbored, was a secret love letter to him. Then he got engaged to a perfect social media influencer. When I finally showed him my heart in a portfolio of my life's work, he ripped it to shreds in a fit of rage. "This is sick, Chelsea! I'm your brother!" The humiliation didn't stop. He drunkenly forced himself on me while whispering his fiancée's name, only to blame me the next morning. "What were you doing in my bed? Your behavior is inappropriate." My own mother called, not to comfort me, but to accuse me of trying to seduce him and ruin his perfect life. After a lifetime of devotion, I was just a problem to be managed, a body to be mistaken in the dark. His love wasn't protection; it was a cage. So I dyed my hair platinum blonde, accepted my estranged uncle's offer to study design in New York, and vanished without a word. This time, I was saving myself.

Too Late to Love Me Now

My father, a rising star in a crime family, decided to leave my mother. During the divorce, he asked me to choose who to live with. For the sake of my future, I chose him, the man who had money and power, over my penniless mother. My choice broke her heart. "He has money, Mom. You don't. I don't want to be poor anymore," I told her, a lie that felt like swallowing glass. She looked at me with utter betrayal before collapsing in tears. In my previous life, my love for her became the burden that destroyed her. After we were cast out, she worked herself to the bone to support me, only to die tragically trying to sell a kidney to pay for my medical bills. I followed her into death a week later. I didn't understand. I had loved her with all my soul, but my love only led to her suffering and death. Why did choosing love mean choosing ruin? Waking up again, I was fourteen, back at the moment of that devastating choice. This time, my love would not be a burden. It would be a weapon. I would get close to my father, dismantle his empire from the inside, and build my mother a fortress with the rubble.

The Price of His "Parting Gift"

The Aspen snow fell, mirroring the blanket of happiness cocooning Ava Reed as she drove to Ethan Hayes' s mansion, a drone – her heartfelt anniversary gift – beside her. Three years of love, whispered promises, and shared dreams were shattered when she overheard Ethan tell his friends she was just a "fun accessory," a "fling" he was ready to discard with a paltry directing gig as a "parting gift." The laughter that followed was ugly, turning her world to ice. She burst in, confronted him, and threw his cruel words back, walking out on the man who had reduced their love to a transaction. But the humiliation didn' t end there. He gave her personal gift to Seraphina Vance, his "real" fiancée, who then flaunted it and the film role Ava was meant to have. How could the man she loved be so indifferent, so actively cruel? How could her devotion be twisted into a casual deception? The public smear campaign that followed, orchestrated by Ethan and Seraphina, painted her as a desperate, unstable ex, ruining her career. She was adrift, lost, her entire identity systematically dismantled. Just as she reached her breaking point, a mysterious invitation arrived, leading her to a shocking truth that would not only reclaim her name and fortune but force Ethan to confront the devastating consequences of his betrayal.

A Telepath's Accidental Heroism

The forest' s quiet shattered as a bleeding FBI agent burst through my cabin door, collapsing at my feet. My perfectly normal afternoon nap was over, replaced by the immediate, terrifying certainty that trouble had found our isolated home. Ben Carter, handsome even as he bled out, was shot, his partner dead, and he was tangled in a massive counterfeiting ring leading straight to Senator Thompson. My stomach dropped – this was the kind of mess my sheriff dad always warned against. But then, as he gasped for help, a deeper dread set in: he heard my unspeakable thoughts. He heard everything I knew about him, about Thompson, about the danger. My father arrived, intervening with Thompson's thugs, but not before he too picked up on my mental broadcasts, his face paling as he realized the depth of the conspiracy I'd unwittingly revealed. Our quiet life was over, replaced by federal agents, corrupt senators, and a constant, terrifying loss of privacy over my own mind. How could I possibly live like this? My ability, usually just a nuisance, had now put us all in mortal danger, linking us irrevocably to a corrupt politician who wanted Ben dead. This wasn't some fantasy hero journey; it was an exhausting, terrifying invasion of my every private thought, broadcasting them to everyone around me. Yet, as Thompson' s people sped away and Ben lay bleeding on our rug, a terrifying question formed in my mind: if my thoughts were this loud, could they also be my weapon?

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten.

Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father

I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires. Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world. My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets. I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her. The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money. I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table. "Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead."

Jilted Bride's Revenge: The Valkyrie Awakens

I had been a wife for exactly six hours when I woke up to the sound of my husband’s heavy breathing. In the dim moonlight of our bridal suite, I watched Hardin, the man I had adored for years, intertwined with my sister Carissa on the chaise lounge. The betrayal didn't come with an apology. Hardin stood up, unashamed, and sneered at me. "You're awake? Get out, you frumpy mute." Carissa huddled under a throw, her fake tears already welling up as she played the victim. They didn't just want me gone; they wanted me erased to protect their reputations. When I refused to move, my world collapsed. My father didn't offer a shoulder to cry on; he threatened to have me committed to a mental asylum to save his business merger. "You're a disgrace," he bellowed, while the guards stood ready to drag me away. They had spent my life treating me like a stuttering, submissive pawn, and now they were done with me. I felt a blinding pain in my skull, a fracture that should have broken me. But instead of tears, something dormant and lethal flickered to life. The terrified girl who walked down the aisle earlier that day simply ceased to exist. In her place, a clinical system—the Valkyrie Protocol—booted up. My racing heart plummeted to a steady sixty beats per minute. I didn't scream. I stood up, my spine straightening for the first time in twenty years, and looked at Hardin with the detachment of a surgeon looking at a tumor. "Correction," I said, my voice stripped of its stutter. "You're in my light." By dawn, I had drained my father's accounts, vanished into a storm, and found a bleeding Crown Prince in a hidden safehouse. They thought they had broken a mute girl. They didn't realize they had just activated their own destruction.

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."

One Night With My Billionaire Boss

I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn. Beside me lay Ezra Gardner—my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers. He didn’t offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement. "Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins." He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend’s apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I’d spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes. I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe. "Showtime, Mrs. Gardner." Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend’s face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down.

Diamond In Disguise: Now Watch Me Shine

Elena, once a pampered heiress, suddenly lost everything when the real daughter framed her, her fiancé ridiculed her, and her adoptive parents threw her out. They all wanted to see her fall. But Elena unveiled her true identity: the heiress of a massive fortune, famed hacker, top jewelry designer, secret author, and gifted doctor. Horrified by her glorious comeback, her adoptive parents demanded half her newfound wealth. Elena exposed their cruelty and refused. Her ex pleaded for a second chance, but she scoffed, "Do you think you deserve it?" Then a powerful magnate gently proposed, "Marry me?"