That Freezing Night, My Love Died

The Vicious Family's Cruelest Deception

I handed my resignation to my husband, Charles, ending seven years of being the secret genius behind his jewelry empire. I thought I was just leaving a cheater, but then I learned the horrifying truth. My stepsister, Haylee, hadn't just stolen him; she had tampered with my medication, deliberately causing every single one of my previous miscarriages. When I tried to escape, the nightmare truly began. Haylee killed her own poodle and framed me for it. To "teach me a lesson," Charles locked me in a pitch-black closet for hours, ignoring my severe claustrophobia. He dragged me out, forced my pregnant body to kneel, and slammed my head against the marble floor until I bled. Then, he made me dig the dog's grave with my bare hands while my own mother watched and sneered. Lying in the dirt, broken and bleeding, I realized they thought they were destroying Charles's heir. They were wrong. I dialed the number of the billionaire tycoon who had been waiting in the shadows. "Grayson," I whispered through cracked lips. "The baby is yours. Come get us."

The Alpha's Regret: Murdered By Her Mate

"Sign it," Simon growled, slamming the document onto the rickety table. As the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack and my fated mate, he wasn't asking. He was commanding me to give my Wolf Essence—the source of my life—to my dying sister, Laila. "If I give her my essence, I will die," I whispered, my body already trembling from the hidden poison coursing through my veins. But Simon only looked at me with cold, amber eyes. "Stop lying, Zora. You're just jealous because she is the future Luna and you are nothing. Sign it, or I will reject you publicly right now." Broken and hopeless, I signed my life away. I died the moment the silver scalpel touched my skin on the operating table. It was only during the autopsy that the surgeon screamed in horror. She discovered my organs were liquefied by chronic Wolfsbane poisoning. And worse, she found that I had no essence to give. My primary essence had already been stolen five years ago—carved out of me by Laila herself to fake her own power. Simon fell to his knees in the morgue, the realization shattering him. He had forced his true mate to die to save the monster who had been killing her all along. In a fit of madness, he executed Laila and then drove a silver dagger into his own heart, desperate to find me in the afterlife. "I'm here, Zora," his ghost wept, kneeling before me in the realm of the dead. "Please, forgive me." I looked at the man who had watched me rot without seeing me. "No," I said. And I turned my back on him forever.

The Contractual Wife's Silent Comeback

My husband told me I was a contractual obligation, an irritant he was forced to endure after a car crash stole his memory of our love five years ago. He replaced me with a social media influencer, a woman whose lies were as polished as her feed. But when her baby was found with a small cut on her lip, she tearfully accused me of being a jealous monster who attacked an innocent child. My husband, the man I had stood by through everything, didn't hesitate. In a blind rage, he ordered a guard to take a needle and thread and sew my lips shut. "She needs to see nothing. Hear nothing. Say nothing," he commanded, his voice devoid of mercy. He then had me hung upside down in the lobby of my own wellness retreat, a public spectacle for the world to condemn. As I dangled there, bleeding and broken, I finally understood. My blind love and foolish hope had been my downfall. I had loved the wrong man, and he had utterly destroyed me. But they made one fatal mistake. They didn't know about the hidden camera I' d planted in the baby's room. And they had no idea that my family could crush his entire empire with a single phone call.

The Billionaire's Regret, The Heiress's Revenge

I knew my husband, Alessandro De Luca, was the Don of the most powerful Famiglia on the East Coast. What I didn't know was that our five-year marriage was built on another woman's grave. On our anniversary, I found his hidden safe. The code wasn't our wedding date or our birthdays. It was August 14th—the day his first love, Isabella, lost her family. Inside was a shrine to her: photos, dried flowers, and a love letter promising her a "castle in the clouds." There was nothing of me, not a single trace of the five years I'd given him. When he found me, he crushed her locket in his fist and threw it all into the fireplace. "Are you done now?" he asked, as if my heartbreak was a tantrum. He offered a trip to Sicily to "fix" this, then sneered that I had nothing without his name or money. But it was worse than that. He brought Isabella back, gave her my position at the charity I built, and paraded her at our annual gala, publicly claiming her as his own. He humiliated me in front of our entire world, siding with her after she staged a scene to make me look jealous and unhinged. He roared at me, "Caterina, what the hell is your problem?" while he comforted her. So I showed him. I walked over, poured a glass of champagne over his head in front of everyone, and said, "That is my problem." Then I walked out of the ballroom, out of his life, and sent him the separation papers. This wasn't a fight for his love anymore. It was war.

From Jilted Bride To Ruthless Queen

On the ninety-ninth time I tried to marry the man I'd loved for twenty-five years, he stood me up at the altar. I went to the courthouse to marry a stranger out of spite, only to find out I was already married. My fiancé, Alexander, had forged the papers, wedding me to his driver to appease his mistress. But his betrayal was more than just a lie. He locked me in a hospital morgue, forced me to kneel before her, and stood by as she had me stabbed and thrown off a cliff. As I lay bleeding at the bottom of a ravine, I finally understood that our twenty-five years of love meant nothing. I was just an obstacle to be discarded. But as I was about to die, a helicopter descended from the sky. The man who came down was Case Dyer-my legal husband and Alexander's biggest rival. He saved my life, and I made a new vow. I would fake my death, return as a queen, and burn Alexander's world to the ground.

Love's Cruel Game, A Second Chance

The last thing I saw in my previous life was the Auctioneer's cold face. My sister, Sarah, had just jumped from a rooftop, her manipulated private photos still flickering on a giant screen for a jeering crowd. They wanted to steal my perfect SAT score, my family's fortune, and our future. All orchestrated by the girl I loved, Ashley Stone, and her boyfriend, Kyle Peterson. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back in the same opulent ballroom, and Sarah was alive, terrified, clutching her hands in front of her. The same giant, blank screen loomed, ready to display her photos. My world had reset, but the nightmare was beginning anew. As Kyle began to bid on Sarah's "private collection"-a humiliating ten thousand dollars-my stomach churned. He then grandiosely offered a million, claiming to protect her honor, a sickening charade that infuriated me. In my past life, I' d been bled dry trying to outbid him; this time, I knew his true motive: my perfect SAT score, the real prize that would elevate Kyle to scholar status. "One million dollars from Mr. Peterson. Do I hear another bid?" the Auctioneer announced. But I knew this wasn't about money alone; it was about abstract assets: reputations, futures, lives. I also knew that the system, once a bid was accepted, was absolute. The memory of Ashley, in my past life, whispering to Kyle, "With his score, you'll get into Harvard. We'll be unstoppable," fueled my resolve. They had repaid my family's kindness with ultimate betrayal. "Ethan?" Sarah whispered, her voice pleading. "Do something." I stepped forward, facing my tormentors. Kyle' s smug face awaited my surrender, oblivious to the storm I was about to unleash.

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.

Destiny's Choice: Married The Man They Called Unlovable

Sophie stepped in for her sister and married a man known for his disfigured looks and reckless past. On their wedding day, his family turned their backs on him, and the town laughed behind their hands, certain the marriage would collapse. But Sophie's career soared, and their love only deepened. Later, during a high-profile event, the CEO of some conglomerate took off his mask, revealing Sophie's husband to be a global sensation. *** Adrian had no interest in his arranged wife and had disguised himself in hopes she would bail. But when Sophie tried to walk away, Adrian broke down and whispered, "Please, Sophie, don't go. One kiss, and I'll give you the world."

The Jilted Heiress' Return To The High Life

Corinne devoted three years of her life to her boyfriend, only for it to all go to waste. He saw her as nothing more than a country bumpkin and left her at the altar to be with his true love. After getting jilted, Corinne reclaimed her identity as the granddaughter of the town's richest man, inherited a billion-dollar fortune, and ultimately rose to the top. But her success attracted the envy of others, and people constantly tried to bring her down. As she dealt with these troublemakers one by one, Mr. Hopkins, notorious for his ruthlessness, stood by and cheered her on. "Way to go, honey!"

Pregnant and Divorced: I Hid His Heir

Vivian clutched her Hermès bag, her doctor's words echoing: "Extremely high-risk pregnancy." She hoped the baby would save her cold marriage, but Julian wasn't in London as his schedule claimed. Instead, a paparazzi photo revealed his early return-with a blonde woman, not his wife, at the private airport exit. The next morning, Julian served divorce papers, callously ending their "duty" marriage for his ex, Serena. A horrifying contract clause gave him the right to terminate her pregnancy or seize their child. Humiliated, demoted, and forced to fake an ulcer, Vivian watched him parade his affair, openly discarding her while celebrating Serena. This was a calculated erasure, not heartbreak. He cared only for his image, confirming he would "handle" the baby himself. A primal rage ignited her. "Just us," she whispered to her stomach, vowing to sign the divorce on her terms, keep her secret safe, and walk away from Sterling Corp for good, ready to protect her child alone.

Love's Sweetest Surprise: From Brokenhearted To Billionaire's Wife

For five years, I believed I was living in a perfect marriage, only to discover it was all a sham! I discovered that my husband was coveting my bone marrow for his mistress! Right in front of me, he sent her flirtatious messages. To make matters worse, he even brought her into the company to steal my work! I finally understood, he never loved me. I stopped pretending, collected evidence of his infidelity, and reclaimed the research he had stolen from me. I signed the divorce papers and left without looking back. He thought I was just throwing a tantrum and would eventually return. But when we met again, I was holding the hand of a globally renowned tycoon, draped in a wedding dress and grinning with confidence. My ex-husband's eyes were red with regret. "Come back to me!" But my new groom wrapped his arm around my waist, and chuckled dismissively, "Get the hell out of here! She's mine now."

Too Late: The Spare Daughter Escapes Him

I died on a Tuesday. It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father. I was twenty years old. He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him-my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit-watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant. He chose her. He always chose her. And then, I woke up. Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for. This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London-an exile disguised as a severance package-I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice. He didn't know he was talking to a ghost. He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal. He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder. That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry. She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts. So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie. I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane. But I will not be a victim. This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter. This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain.