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.

I walked into the luxury boutique on Fifth Avenue, the air conditioning chilling my skin. There she was-Alivia, my adopted sister-swiping my husband' s Black Card for her wedding dress. Three years ago, she tampered with the neonatal equipment during my home birth, suffocating my newborn son. Then she told everyone I was a drug addict who killed my own baby in a hallucination. My husband, Carter, didn't just believe her; he locked me in a high-security psychiatric facility in Nevada to "fix" me. For three years, I rotted in isolation while she took my life, my husband, and paraded a child that wasn't even his as the Fletcher heir. Even my parents sided with her, protecting their image over their own daughter's sanity. They think I' m still the fragile socialite who would crumble under their gaslighting. They think I' m here to beg for forgiveness. I pulled a silver flash drive from my clutch and stepped into the light. "Shopping for a wedding dress, Alivia?" I whispered, my voice cutting through her laughter. "I hope it goes well with the forensic report proving you murdered my son." The game is over, Carter. I' m not here to reconcile. I' m here to burn your empire to the ground.

The new penthouse apartment, meant to be a monument to our future, felt like a tomb. In my hand, a medical report confirmed my fiancée Chloe' s secret lover, Liam O' Connell, was dying from a highly contagious, deadly illness. A brutal memory tore through me: In my last life, my fury over this same betrayal led to Liam's accidental death. Chloe, consumed by grief, retaliated by orchestrating a fiery car crash that killed my parents and me. I still smelled the gasoline, heard my mother' s screams, watched her smiling face as we burned. How could this be happening again? I was back, at the very same moment, holding the very same report. This time, I wouldn't scream. I wouldn't rage. I would simply shred the proof and let nature take its course. Justice would be cold, patient, and meticulously planned. My phone rang. It was Chloe, her voice sharp and demanding about a declined credit card. Then, she uttered a chilling phrase: "Is this about Liam? Are you really going to be this pathetic? I thought we were past you trying to use his health to ruin my life." My blood ran cold. She knew. She remembered. She was reborn too. This wasn't just a breakup. This was war, and she had just made the first move.

My life was a carefully built sanctuary, a thriving business, a loving home with the man I adored, Mark, and my best friend, Jessica, by my side. Then, a phone call, sharp and unwelcome, shattered it all-a memory from a past life I wasn't supposed to recall. In that nightmare, Mark and Jessica weren't my allies; they were parasites. They drained my company, forged my signature, cooked the books, leaving me with a mountain of debt. My parents, heartbroken, wasted away. I was left with nothing but betrayal, ultimately sold to a loan shark, my legs brutally broken, my life extinguished in a dark, cold basement. How could the two people I trusted most harbor such bottomless greed, such a complete lack of soul? Why would they meticulously plot to destroy the very person who had given them everything? But I remember it all now, every cruel word, every calculating glance. This time, I' m back, and the debt won' t be mine.

I was eight months pregnant, standing frozen at a street festival when the ground shook violently. A piece of scaffolding broke loose, tumbling straight towards me. My fiancé, Liam, was just feet away, but he lunged, not for me, but for his young intern, Chloe, shielding her from the debris. I watched him go, then felt a sharp, blinding pain and a warm gush as my water broke. His eyes found me then, twisted not with fear, but with disgust, as he muttered, "That's so embarrassing!" before pulling Chloe away, leaving me to collapse on the pavement. Seven days later, I was discharged from the hospital; the baby was gone. Back home, I opened a package meant for Chloe, inside was a positive pregnancy test; two different stories, one of life, one of death. Liam acted annoyed by my absence, reeking of cheap perfume and sporting Chloe' s lipstick on his collar. He offered a vile apology: he left me because it "would have been humiliating" for him if people saw his fiancée "pissing herself in public." He thought I'd wet myself from fear, not from a devastating injury. His phone buzzed with Chloe's custom ringtone, her giggling voice, "Boss, you have a call!" Then I saw Chloe's Instagram picture from his office, her legs on his desk, captioned: "I just love making the boss smile. Wonder what he'd do if I ever left?" Liam had already liked it, replying, "Don't you dare! He'd have to track you down and handcuff you to your desk!" They were mocking me, celebrating my pain. My hand trembled, but my voice was steady as I dialed our wedding venue to cancel everything. I packed my last bag, leaving the life I thought I had behind. I' m done being his architect, his model, his forgotten fiancée. This time, I' m building my own empire.

My phone's blue glow pierced the dark nursery at 3 AM. Our son, Leo, slept peacefully, while I, on maternity leave, was scrolling LinkedIn. Recovery and bonding were the goals, but instead, I found betrayal. That' s when I saw it: A post from my husband, Ethan Reed, CEO of Nexus. He was smiling beside Chloe Jensen, a young MBA intern. The caption announced Chloe was taking the lead on Project Chimera – my revolutionary AI, the project I' d spent three years building from scratch. My baby, almost as much as Leo. My numb fingers typed a text: "What the hell is this LinkedIn post?" Ethan' s dismissive reply was instant: "It's 3 AM, Kat. You' re emotional, it' s the postpartum stuff. Get some rest. For Leo." He was gaslighting me, twisting my health and our son against me. He just handed my life's work to an intern. The cold, sharp anger that flooded me wasn't about tears; it was about clarity. He thought I was weak, sidelined by motherhood. He thought I'd just let him replace me with a twenty-four-year-old. He was dead wrong. I deleted his message. My next call wasn't to him, but to Mark Strahan, the EVP of Global Logistics at AmeriCorp. "There have been unforeseen technical leadership changes on Project Chimera," I calmly stated, knowing the nine-figure deal would now grind to a halt. This was war, and I was just getting started.

My Midas Touch wasn't just a gift; it was my life's foundation, turning my husband, Ethan, into Bishop Consolidated's CEO in three short years. We had it all: a grand estate, a perfect marriage, and a secret I cherished-the tiny life growing within me, our future. Then I heard them. Ethan's urgent voice, Dr. Finch's chilling reply. They planned to transfer my unique gift to Seraphina Vance, Ethan' s old flame. The condition? "No living descendants for the Midas Touch to anchor." My unborn child. Ethan was trading our baby for ambition. He held my mother hostage, forcing me into agonizing "donations" that drained not just my power, but my emotions, leaving me a blank slate. Seraphina, vibrant with stolen energy, gloated. On the third day, the final injection came, a clear liquid from Ethan himself. A tearing pain. My baby was gone. How could the man I loved, the father of my child, orchestrate such cold, calculated cruelty? The betrayal was absolute, the grief a silent scream trapped within a body now devoid of feeling. But as darkness consumed me amidst the flames engulfing my wing, one flicker remained: the will to survive, to ensure they reaped what they sowed. I made one call. It was time for a different kind of gold.

My life was a constant payment, a humiliating exchange for my sister Chloe's next breath. Julian Vance owned me, casually tossing wads of cash that paid Chloe's astronomical medical bills, but bought him the right to my endless compliance. He'd send me on midnight errands miles away after I'd nearly collapsed from a health crisis he ignored, or force me to decorate a rooftop in a blizzard while I was still sick, leaving me to freeze. His girlfriend Tiffany delighted in tormenting me, once orchestrating a salon "makeover" that involved a chemical burn to my scalp, ruining my hair, while Julian dismissed my agony for "a little tingle." They even projected a montage of my most vulnerable, humiliating moments at a crowded public gala, expecting my total breakdown. But something shifted when Chloe's final, critical surgery bill was finally paid; the humiliation wasn't a payment anymore, it was just... noise. When Julian, seeing my chilling indifference instead of tears, dragged me home in a fury, I knew my obligation was met, and a cold resolve quietly set in. The next morning, after Tiffany tried to frame me with a fake allergic reaction, I calmly looked at Julian, devoid of fear or defense, and simply said, "I'm leaving. For good." He was stunned, convinced I was playing a game for more money or attention, but then he saw the truth on the security footage: Tiffany's setup, my quiet endurance, his own casual cruelty. He chased me to my small, forgotten hometown, offering apologies, money, even marriage, desperate to reclaim his 'possession'. But standing before him, I poured out years of suppressed revulsion, detailing every humiliation he inflicted, and when the words were too much, my body reacted instinctively, violently expelling the lingering poison of his presence. I was finally free, leaving his gilded cage for the comforting scent of fresh bread in my own small bakery, while Julian remained trapped, forever misunderstanding what he had truly lost.

Here's the translation: "My boyfriend is a top-tier rich second generation. To test whether I would give everything for him, he hid his identity and lived off me for three years. He even asked me to help him treat his depression, spending twenty thousand a month on expert consultations. I scrimped and saved, working tirelessly delivering takeout, while my colleagues and friends looked down on me. The final test my boyfriend gave me was to spend the last of my savings on luxury goods, to see if I would forgive him for love. But unexpectedly— As I stood outside the hotel private room delivering takeout, I heard the whole truth. I slowly pushed open the door to the room and saw him lavishly spending on a little princess, casually throwing around millions on bags and tens of millions on jewelry..."

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.

A sharp pain shot through my head, pulling me from a deep darkness. I opened my eyes to my luxury penthouse, but I shouldn't have been there. I remembered dying. The memory was cold and sharp: my protégé, Dustin, sold me out, and my husband, Graves, watched our company crumble, leading to my fatal heart attack. Then, Graves appeared, his charming, empty smile unchanged. But he wasn't alone. A young woman, Alex Salazar, stood behind him, clutching her cheap handbag. Graves introduced her as an intern, saying she had nowhere to stay and would be living with us. My eyes fell to her neck, where a dark hickey was partially hidden. The date on the nightstand confirmed it: I had traveled back in time to the exact day Graves brought Alex home in my previous life, the beginning of my long, painful nightmare. Last time, I had screamed and thrown things, starting my humiliation. A strange calm washed over me. I had been given a second chance, not to win him back, but to escape. "Of course," I said, my voice even, "The poor thing. We should take care of her." Graves looked surprised, then relieved. He thought he had won. "In fact," I continued, pulling out divorce papers, "I'll make sure she's comfortable. You just have one small thing to do for me." I wanted the Malibu property. "Give me that, and I'll walk away quietly. You can have your new life. You can take care of this... orphan."

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.

The screams of the "Proving" ceremony were the first thing I heard when I woke up. My eyes shot open, and the scent of pine, sweat, and something metallic filled my lungs. I was back in this godforsaken survivalist compound, mysteriously transported from my office job. A hand grabbed my arm, and it was Gabrielle Chadwick, or Gabby, her terrified eyes pleading. "Molly, help me! Please! They're going to hurt me!" This was the ritual where young men would strike unmarried women with leather belts, and the one enduring the most blows was deemed "most desired." In my past life, I shielded Gabby, taking every blow for her, believing I was protecting a friend. My sacrifice made me the "most honored," granting me first choice of a partner, and I chose Caleb Scott, the compound leader' s son. But my life with Caleb was a private hell of control and brutality, while Gabby, seething with resentment for what she thought was her rightful place, pretended to be my friend. She eventually got her revenge, pushing me off a cliff during a foraging trip. Now, reborn at the start of that same horrifying ceremony, Gabby was playing the same part, her hand clamping my arm, her voice a desperate plea for me to be her shield again. I looked at her, at the calculated fear in her eyes, remembering the sharp, final impact of falling. Not this time.

In a world where shadows dance, ordinary Elara's life is irrevocably altered when she crosses paths with Alessandro, a powerful man. Their forbidden love ignites a dangerous flame, tested by secrets and external forces. He's darkness in a tailored suit. She's the light he was never meant to touch. Elara never meant to fall for him let alone crave him. But in the heart of Sicily, under the moonlit heat of his touch, Alessandro De Luca makes her forget every warning. A vampire. A mafia king. A man who kisses like sin and takes his pleasure slowly. She's human. He's not. But when they come together, the night listens. Dangerous. Addictive. Forbidden. And far too late to turn back.

Mo Xuetong has lost everything. Her mother, her child, even her servants, have been killed. Betrayed, disfigured, and alone, she dies trying to destroy the people who deceived her… …and wakes up as a child again. Given a second chance, she vows to make things different. This time she will not be a naïve child. This time she is beautiful, cold, and willing to do whatever it takes to get revenge. But her plans are disrupted when she uncovers a thirty year old conspiracy that changes everything. Will she still be able to change her fate? And even if she does, will her new fate be any better, or will her hunger for revenge destroy her?

I woke up floating. Not in a dream, but tethered to a nightmare. My body lay cold on the bed, while my son, Leo, whispered, "Papa won't wake up." My wife, Eleanor, stood by the door, her face a mask of ice. I was a ghost, able to watch, but powerless to intervene. Then Julian Croft appeared, oozing charm and false sympathy. The man who'd received my liver, the root of my demise. Eleanor dismissed Leo's desperate pleas, accusing *me* of manipulation, of using our son. She chose Julian, leaving Leo behind, a small, trembling figure in our empty home. What followed was agony. I watched my seven-year-old journey miles to her office, only to be publicly humiliated, framed by Julian, and then viciously beaten. Eleanor, blind to the truth, abandoned him again, leaving him bruised and alone in a dark alley. My spirit seethed, consumed by a cold, useless rage. How could she believe such lies? How could she discard her own child so easily? The injustice was unbearable. I was murdered, my son brutalized, and the woman I loved stood by my killer. I longed to warn her, to protect Leo, but I was just air. A silent scream. Then Julian delivered the final blow: my little boy was tossed into the freezing Hudson River. But as Leo's small form sank into the darkness, a desperate hope ignited. A stranger, an angel, pulled him from the depths. My death was real, my son's suffering unbearable. And now, the true battle for justice, and for Leo's future, was about to begin.

When I decided to put my job as a sugar baby behind me, I never thought that 3 supernatural men would appear before me. Renald, the spoiled movie star –also a vampire-werewolf hybrid. Tony, the most wanted bachelor in the whole city –who is a demon. And Michael, the cold billionaire –plus an angel. On top of that, my previous sugar daddy admits that he is an immortal sorcerer AND is the other three men’s father! What is going on???

KYLE’S POV, “You are driving me crazy, girl, "I said as I took her earlobes in between my teeth and scraped them sexually, her moans filled my ear and I bite it harder as I recollected all I did just to get her to be mine, that is the price every human male makes to get to date a female werewolf. It is really crazy. Now, I am no longer a human. I am now an immortal who got his own power just like every werewolf. “Wait a little,” she said as she shoved me into the bed. I slumped on the bed as I attempted to quell my emotion. She twerked her asses in a way that sent some sensation down my spine, I groaned and held my dick. Suddenly she turned her face to me and I smiled, she frowned. “Who are you?” she asked me in a cozy voice as she paced up and down like a giant warrior. “What do you mean?” I asked as my gaze swiveled around and I saw the mirror overlooking her back. Has she discovered the new me? I implored in my mind. Then my eyes flickered. I stood up in speed and strode to the window and looked up at the stars. “I am a Vampire!” I yelled. There were four werewolves kingdoms in the oasis of Credos and those kingdoms enclosed human beings. There were restrictions and regulations guiding the peaceful co-existence between the four kingdoms and the humans for many years without any bleach. Until a college boy turned into a Vampire. The boy was always treated badly by the humans, especially his stepmother. He returned back home without anyone observing that he had died, he started attempting to unravel who he had become, he uncovered his new abilities and researched them. Without the human's awareness, he snipped himself and dipped his blood into liquor at a party, thus turning those who taste out of the liquor into Vampires. He compelled an army of Vampires and perpetrated anything to avenge the werewolves. Will the werewolves condone this? When the vampire boy and the daughter of one of the Alphas were mates? And the same girl was assigned to coax him into their den. Will she decide on love or her people? And there existed a brave human, HUNTER, who when others were terrified, was called to challenge and annihilate the Vampires. Will he accomplish his goals with the help of his siblings, the werewolves and daughter who is the Vampire boy and Werewolf girl's classmate and the Vampire boy's secret crushes?

Claire must cleverly deceive the enigmatic vampire prince while battling her unexpected desire for him, which threatens her plans.. Season 1 of The Fangs Series ‎ ‎ ‎Nothing in my life has come easily, and my current mission is no exception. My sister and I have journeyed deep into the heart of the vampire stronghold, where I must somehow convince Prince Bastien of House Allard to choose me as his next sanguine partner- the woman he will feed from. But my motives run deeper than mere companionship; I need to gather secrets that could protect my family from their looming threats. The prince is infuriatingly arrogant, and every encounter with him only fuels my disdain. Yet, the stakes are higher than my personal feelings. To keep my family safe, I have no choice but to get close to this powerful and infuriating vampire. It's a dangerous game, but I'm ready to play, even if it means stepping into the kind of darkness I've always feared. ‎With my family's lives on the line, I'll do whatever it takes. Even if that means letting this monster bite me.