Star Radovsky

I fell off a cliff and lost my memory. When I woke up, all I knew was that I was a general and had a fiancé. When the people sent by the court stood in front of me, I was immediately attracted to one of them. But the vice general pointed to someone else and said that he was my future husband. I couldn't believe it and thought I must have been crazy to like him. The prince laughed and the crown prince looked upset, warning me not to regret my decision. I didn't regret it at the time, but later on, I realized that I should have. Unfortunately, I was no longer the girl who was completely devoted to him.

My mother' s dying wish was for me, Sarah Miller, to marry Ethan Hayes. But every time we tried, his housekeeper' s daughter, Jessica Stone, found a way to stop it. Then, after Jessica was involved in a car accident, Ethan manipulated me into taking the blame, promising to marry me once I was released. I served three years in prison for a crime I didn' t commit, holding onto his promise like a prayer. But when I got out, everything shattered. Ethan was marrying Jessica, and my mother was dead. At the hospital, I overheard Jessica gloat, revealing she had deliberately cut off my mother' s medical payments, leading to her death. Blinded by rage, I confronted Jessica, only to be violently pushed down a flight of stairs by Ethan himself. He cradled Jessica, treating me like trash, and coldly declared he truly wanted to marry her. Heartbroken, I ended our engagement on the spot. Later, I arrived at their wedding, carrying my mother' s urn. Jessica' s mother, in a fit of rage, snatched the urn and brutally shattered it, stomping on my mother' s ashes while security guards physically assaulted me. Ethan arrived, but instead of helping, he accused me of ruining his wedding. Then, a phone call revealed the truth: my mother had died because her medical payments were cut off. I screamed at Ethan, exposing Jessica' s evil, leaving him at his chaotic wedding. Ethan, once the man I adored, now stood exposed as a heartless stranger. His blindness and betrayal fueled a fire within me. I vowed to uncover every lie, every hidden cruelty, and make them pay for destroying my life and my mother' s memory.

On our fifth anniversary, my husband, Alpha Ethan, didn't give me a gift. Instead, he watched as his "invalid" mistress, Ilene, poured a tureen of boiling soup laced with Wolfsbane directly onto my chest. As the poison ate through my skin and I screamed in agony, Ilene clutched her heart and faked a panic attack, claiming my noise was hurting her. Ethan didn't call a doctor for me. His eyes glowed amber with power, and he turned his Alpha Command on his dying mate. "Stay down!" He forced me to lie paralyzed in my own melting flesh, unable to move or whimper, just so my screams wouldn't disturb the woman who had poisoned me. He scooped her up and walked away, leaving me on the restaurant floor. That night, the bond in my chest finally snapped. I didn't argue. I didn't fight. I simply burned every photo of us, masked my scent, and vanished into the night. It took Ethan two years to discover the truth. Ilene wasn't a fragile victim. She had been taking suppressants for years, hiding a healthy wolf while draining his bank accounts and laughing at his guilt. He slaughtered her in a rage and spent his fortune searching the globe for me, desperate to beg for forgiveness. But he was too late. He finally found me on the cover of an international art magazine. I wasn't the weak, wolf-less Omega anymore. I stood tall, glowing with the power of the legendary White Wolf. And the man standing next to me, with his hand possessively claiming my waist, wasn't him. It was the Lycan King.

On the fourth anniversary of my son's death, I went to the Pack Archives to perform a soul-soothing ritual for his spirit. But the records showed a truth I couldn't comprehend. My mate, Alpha Damien, had another child—a secret son with the she-wolf he'd sworn was just a crazed stalker. He lied through our sacred mind-link, claiming a pack emergency, but I found them at a secret manor, laughing. He, his mistress, and their boy—a perfect, happy family. Hiding in my own garage, I overheard the conversation that shattered my world. My son didn't just slip and fall into the river. He ran in terror, scared by the sound of their wild, careless mating nearby. Their affair killed my baby. As this horror crashed down on me, our mate bond, meant for love, became a tool of torture. It forced me to feel every second of his pleasure as he took her again, right there in the car, just feet from where I hid. He and his mother then framed me for abuse, had my son’s ashes dug up and flushed down a sewer, and beat me with a silver whip before leaving me for dead with a pack of feral Rogues. But I survived. And I made a choice. I wouldn’t seek revenge. I would seek oblivion. I found a pack that practiced forbidden magic, a ritual that could wipe my mind clean. I would erase him, our son, and every memory of my old life. I would be reborn.

I gave my husband, Chandler, one of my kidneys to save his life. In return, he married me. I was a girl from an orphanage; he was a New York tycoon. I foolishly believed his gratitude would one day turn into love. Then his first love, Kristyn, came back. When she was diagnosed with a rare blood disorder, Chandler dragged me to the hospital and demanded I give her my bone marrow. My doctors warned him that with my failing health, another major surgery would be a death sentence. He called me selfish and forced me onto the operating table. As the doors swung shut, I saw Kristyn, who was supposed to be dying, sit up in her bed. A wicked, triumphant smile spread across her face. Through the glass, she mouthed the words. "I don't have a blood disorder, you idiot." A nurse plunged a thick needle into my spine. They were draining my life away to appease a liar, all on my husband's orders. I died on that table, my last thought a prayer that I would never see him again. But when I opened my eyes, I wasn't in heaven. I was in a private medical facility, and my long-lost childhood friend, Elijah, was standing over me. He looked at me, his eyes burning with a protective fire. "I faked your death, Ava," he said, his voice cold with rage. "Now, let's make them pay."

Four years after my son Leo drowned, I was still lost in a fog of grief. My husband, Eli Stark, the tech mogul, was the public' s saint, a devoted father who built a foundation in Leo' s name. But when I went to finalize Leo' s death certificate, a clerk' s casual comment shattered my world: "Mr. Stark has another dependent child listed." The name hit me like a physical blow: Cody Sharpe, son of Kasey Sharpe, the woman who had stalked Eli for years. I found them, a perfect family, Eli laughing, a happiness I hadn't seen in years. Then, I overheard Kasey confessing to Eli that his affair with her was why he wasn't watching Leo the day he died. My world crumbled. For four years, I had carried the guilt, believing Leo' s death was a tragic accident, comforting Eli who blamed himself for a "work call." It was all a lie. His betrayal had killed our son. The man I loved, the man who had built a prison of grief around me, was living a happy life with another family. He had watched me suffer, letting me blame myself, while his secret festered. How could he? How could he stand there and lie, knowing his actions led to our son' s death? The injustice burned, a cold, sharp rage replacing my grief. I called my lawyer, then my former mentor, Casey Long, whose experimental memory erasure research was my only hope. "I want to forget," I whispered, "I need to forget everything. Erase him for me."

My fiancé, Floyd Meyers, announced he was canceling our engagement. He was proposing to Jaylah Ryan, an heiress, all because a psychic claimed I was the cause of his misfortune. Jaylah then falsely accused me of tearing her expensive gown. Floyd ordered his guards to slap me fifty times and forced me to kneel in the snow all night to mend it. When Jaylah's mother needed an emergency transfusion of my rare blood type, he dragged me to the hospital to be used as a living blood bag, without anesthetic. He threatened my mother and my dog, forcing me to repair an architectural model for him. When Jaylah engineered another incident, he threatened to burn my mother's hands unless I confessed to a crime I didn't commit. My own mother, terrified, screamed at me to sacrifice myself. With a numb heart, I chose my own hands, enduring the searing agony of hot coals until they were ruined and blackened. As I lay dying, he appeared only to snarl, "I hope you die and rot in the ground. I never want to see your face again." The truth shattered me when the psychic confessed Floyd had paid her to lie. He had orchestrated my downfall from the start. When I confronted him, he forced champagne down my throat and drowned me in the pool. But I woke up again, back on the day I first met Floyd Meyers.

For three years, I believed I was living a dream, curated by the renowned architect Liam Maxwell, a life where I served as his live-in assistant, blurring professional and personal lines. He mentored me, showered me with gifts, and praised my "brilliant" insights, making me believe I was valued, cherished even, an unspoken affection lingering between us. That illusion shattered when I overheard Liam describe me as "just a glorified intern, useful for fetching coffee and making my designs look better by comparison." He scoffed, adding, "She\'s so dependent on this job, she\'d never leave, even if she knew the truth. Her family needs the money." The world tilted. Every kind word, every thoughtful gift, every professional opportunity twisted into acts of cynical manipulation. I wasn\'t a protégé; I was a tool, a punchline in a cruel joke. The man I had admired, depended on, melted away, replaced by a calculating stranger. A cold rage replaced the hurt, a silent vow to reclaim my worth. How could I have been so blind? So utterly used? How much of my life had I truly wasted on his elaborate charade? The moment he tossed a new file on my desk, demanding renderings by morning, I looked up. "Of course, Liam," I said, a perfect imitation of the naive girl I used to be, knowing that this time, the performance was for me, marking the precise moment I decided to walk away and discover my true value.

The silence in the dining room was a physical thing, heavy and constant, marking seven years of a meticulously honored contract, not a marriage. Our anniversary dinner, a cold, elegant tableau, was shattered not by words, but by the faint scent of floral perfume drifting under my studio door-Sophia' s perfume, a silent declaration of Liam' s other life, his true commitment. This insidious infidelity, a quiet betrayal etched into every shared silence, deepened the void left by Ethan, my past love, making my present utterly unbearable. How could I have overlooked such a fundamental truth: that a man so devoted to duty would inevitably use that very trait to justify neglecting me for someone he felt obliged to save? With a final, decisive click of the 'send' button on the divorce papers, I ignited a future I alone controlled, unaware that Liam, too, had an escape plan, plotting a divergent course that would irrevocably alter both our lives.

I had died 99 times for Ethan Lester, my sacrifice healing him with our family's ancient elixir, believing his promises of a future as his First Lady. But when I lay in my hospital bed, pregnant with our child, the truth exploded around me like a bomb: Ethan and his manipulative lover, Nicole, had meticulously planned my family's massacre to steal every last drop of our elixir and now wanted it from my unborn baby. My world shattered as I heard Ethan coldly declare my family's extermination "necessary" for Nicole's healing, plotting to "rescue" me later and lie about the gang who "took" me, while I was trapped, starving, and tortured. How could the man I loved, the father of my child, orchestrate such an unspeakable horror, sacrificing everything and everyone I held dear for a mere scar on his mistress? As the surgeon's scalpel touched my skin, with my last breath and a mother's furious love, I poured every ounce of my life force into my son, making my 100th death my final act of defiance, ensuring he would never bring me back.

Julian Croft's career was on the brink. My father, General Vance, offered a solution: Julian would marry me. I remembered that deal. In my first life, I accepted it, blinded by stupid love. Julian smiled, handed me champagne, and then orchestrated a scandal that framed my father for treason. My father died in prison. My family was ruined. And I died alone, hit by a car, a ghost in my own life. The memory of the cold pavement against my cheek was still fresh. The hatred was a physical thing, a solid weight in my chest. He destroyed everything simply for access and power. But I was back. Before my father could speak, I stepped forward. "No," I said. "Julian Croft is not good enough to marry into the Vance family." Then, to everyone's shock, I walked straight to our quiet mechanic, Leo Martinez, a former Army Ranger who worked for our family. "Leo Martinez," I declared, "I want to marry you. Will you accept?" This time, my choice would rewrite history. My revenge would consume them all.

Ash Miller, a celebrated wedding planner, wove magic for countless couples, but her own dream-a meticulously crafted vintage garden wedding with Ethan-remained just a plan after seven years. Unbeknownst to him, this unfulfilled dream was cloaked in a far more chilling reality: a secret, advanced breast cancer diagnosis, gnawing at her life and her hope. Then, at the very New England estate she'd chosen for her vows, Ash witnessed a scene that stopped her heart: Ethan, her Ethan, standing under their sacred oak, reciting vows not to her, but to a radiant Chloe, clad in white. He brushed off Ash's stunned presence with a casual wave, then shockingly handed over her entire five-year wedding design-every detail, every flower, every cherished vintage touch-to Chloe, dismissing it as "just a client." As Ash, heartbroken and physically ailing, watched her stolen dream unfold, the final, brutal blow landed: a sparkling Tiffany solitaire on Chloe's left hand, paired with whispered rumors that Chloe was Ethan' s "great lost love." Her meticulously planned future, her fragile hope, and her hidden battle against a terminal illness were all laid bare and trampled. The agony wasn't just in the betrayal of her love, but the realization that her life' s most profound moments, her final wishes, had been pilfered and handed to a stranger, all while her partner remained blind to her suffering, her impending end. How could the man she loved so deeply, the one she was dying to marry, be so heartlessly cruel, so utterly oblivious? With nothing left but the gnawing pain of a dying body and a shattered soul, Ash took her first, decisive step toward reclaiming her last moments, walking out of his life and leaving him behind to confront a devastating truth far more terrible than any infidelity.

The group home reeked of old bleach and unspoken sadness, but for nine-year-old Leo, the community center was a fragile beacon. There, Ethan, the kind program director, was a rare comfort. Then, Sarah arrived. She was sharp, detached, and moved like a cat, yet Leo saw the unspoken longing in her eyes, always fixed on Ethan. She protected Leo from schoolyard bullies, her silent strength a stark contrast to her obvious, secret pain. As Ethan' s relationship with Isabelle, a beautiful and successful lawyer, blossomed, Sarah began to crack. Her cold exterior dissolved into raw, agonizing heartbreak. he started disappearing, returning with bruised knuckles and a haunted look, battling an emotional turmoil Leo could barely comprehend. He watched her self-destruct, pouring liquor into her coffee, her vibrant potential fading into a hollow despair. When Ethan announced his engagement, Sarah' s world shattered, and Leo found her at the bus station, a one-way ticket to oblivion clutched in her hand. Desperate, Leo faked a severe asthma attack, halting her escape. It worked, but the emptiness in Sarah' s eyes remained, a silent question: how could he save someone so determined to destroy herself? What dark secret tied her to this path of slow annihilation? At the lavish wedding, as Ethan and Isabelle celebrated their future, Leo knew this was Sarah' s ultimate breaking point. He barged in, a small, scruffy kid amidst the glittering crowd, shouting about Sarah' s selfless sacrifices, her anonymous donations, her quiet devotion. The truth hung heavy in the air, forcing Ethan to see, and stirring a new resolve in Sarah. This wasn' t just about her unrequited love; it was about finally choosing herself.

It was supposed to be the biggest day of my life. The day I, Alex Peterson, heir to a global empire, announced my engagement to Jess Vanderbilt, the perfect corporate alliance. Expensive sheets, blinding penthouse sun – a picture of success. But then, the memory hit me. It wasn't a nightmare; it was my last life. A life where Jess, the woman I thought I loved, and her charming snake of a lover, Ryan Miller, betrayed me. They leaked Peterson Global's R&D secrets, framed me, shattered my father's legacy, and then laughed as I was locked away. I died in that prison, lonely and broken, a stress-aggravated heart condition taking me. The humiliation, the pain, it was all still fresh, seared into my soul. How could I have been so blind? How could the woman I showered with everything, who spoke of grand love, secretly despise me enough to ruin my life, accuse me of theft, and abandon me to rot? The injustice was a searing fire in my gut. And then, I woke up. Here. Now. Back on this exact day, hours before the press conference, a second chance. They wanted me to choose Jess? Fine. I would choose. But this time, the script would be spectacularly different. I chose Sophia Chen.

My wedding day was supposed to be perfect, but the front row of seats remained eerily empty. My parents, my brother Ethan, and my fiancé Mark were all missing. Mark' s call confirmed my worst fears: they were at the airport, celebrating the "surprise visit" of my sister, Ashley. They' d chosen her-the family's dazzling star-over my wedding, dropping everything for her. Humiliated, I faced the murmuring guests alone, my heart sinking with the weight of their betrayal. Ethan called me a "victim" for having a journal titled "The 99 Times My Heart Broke." Then Mom demanded I make lasagna as an "apology" for Ashley, despite my severe dairy allergy blistering my hands. That night, Ashley faked an allergic reaction, earning me a violent slap from my mother and Mark' s immediate loyalty to her. The ultimate insult: I overheard my parents planning for Mark to marry me just so he could remain close and "look out for" Ashley. Was my life truly just a calculated tool for their golden child's convenience? Every painful entry in my journal screamed for justice. My breaking point had turned into a launchpad. I coolly played a recording of Ashley's manipulating confession for my stunned family. Then, I packed my bag and walked out, leaving their toxic charade behind for a full scholarship to Stanford and a life of my own design.

I'm Ava, a software engineer. But my reality is a nightmare. I' ve "died" twice in premonitions, murdered by my childhood friends, Liam and Noah, who were obsessed with another girl, Eliza. Now, framed as a corporate spy, I' m at their memorial, for men supposedly dead in a fiery crash. Then, they appear. Alive. They demand I choose one of their "legacies," implying my charges vanish if I comply. Their return isn't a miracle. It' s a terrifying trap. These men, who once "killed" me, kidnap me again, trying to extract my secrets. They publicly brand me an imposter, even parading out another woman as the "real" Eliza. My reputation, my sanity, everything is on the line. How can I fight these controlling ghosts who claim to love me but treat me as a replacement? Is this elaborate gaslighting, or is a deeper, more sinister plot unfolding around me? The line between my chilling premonitions and current reality blurs dangerously. What dark game are they playing? But I have a secret weapon: my late father's hidden data chip and a desperate, clandestine agreement with the powerful Julian Hayes. I will inject an experimental memory-restoring compound, risking everything to uncover the truth and dismantle a vast, deadly conspiracy, even if it means confronting my own haunting past head-on.

I woke up, flung ten years into the past, carrying the crushing weight of a previous life I desperately needed to undo. My last memories were of Ava's lifeless face in a casket, her death the culmination of my twisted, misguided vengeance. I had systematically tortured her, believing she embodied all my pain, only to discover she was the anonymous donor who' d literally given her heart to save my life. That unbearable truth, revealed too late, plunged me into an abyss of guilt, leading to a brutal, self-sacrificial atonement. Now, miraculously reborn, I was determined to rewrite history, save my family, and fiercely protect Ava from the torment I once inflicted. I vowed to earn her love, to prove I was worthy of the sacrifice I brutally repaid. But as I found her in this new timeline, thriving and happy, she was engaged to another man and completely indifferent to me. Her calm rejection cut deeper than any physical pain, a stark reminder of the love I had irredeemably destroyed. Can I ever truly amend the monstrous past, or am I forever condemned to watch her happiness from afar, haunted by the memory of the woman I needlessly lost?

I spent hours sourcing ingredients, meticulously preparing a farm-to-table lunch for my wife, Olivia. It was meant to show my unwavering support for her booming career, a perfect culinary testament to my love. But Olivia barely glanced at the beautifully set table. One quick peck on the cheek, a mumbled excuse about a "team BBQ," and she was gone. Moments later, I saw it: her Instagram, smugly captioning a brisket sandwich, while her assistant Mark' s LinkedIn showcased my elaborate meal, beautifully plated at his office desk, praising Olivia as the "Best Boss." My scallops. My panna cotta. All discarded and used as a prop for her assistant. When I confronted her, she fiercely defended Mark, even accusing me of being "childish." Later, in a fit of rage, she shattered our anniversary sculpture and even a Sterling family heirloom, injuring me in the process, while implying my actions destroyed our relationship. It wasn't just about lunch. It was a relentless invalidation, a blatant disrespect for our vows, for my very identity. My devotion wasn't just unappreciated; it was actively repurposed for another man' s gain, treated as worthless by the woman I cherished most. How could she prioritize his superficial flattery over everything we built? That was the breaking point. I left, but not in defeat. My "departure" was merely phase one. When I unexpectedly returned, catching her laughing intimately with Mark and her own mother dismissing my pain, I knew. The shattered wedding photo I left behind wasn't just physical debris; it was a promise. A promise of a meticulous, devastating reckoning.

Eleanor Hayes, CEO of Hayes Heritage Corp, had just sealed the deal of her career. Stepping off her jet at Logan, her family’s legacy felt untouchable. But then her phone vibrated. A headline screamed: "Hayes Heiress Olivia Park Engaged to Notorious Magnate Victor Sterling!" Victor. A predator decades older than her only daughter. This was impossible. Cold fury washed over her. At home, pure chaos. Her trusted mentees, Jace, Mark, and Caleb, alongside Chloe Bishop, had turned her estate into a den of debauchery. She found Olivia upstairs, frail, gasping for air, her asthma deliberately triggered. The mentees mocked her, conspiring to force the marriage and steal her inheritance. Later, the doctor confirmed "sensitive trauma," bruising, and possible drugging. My daughter. Manipulated, endangered, tortured in her own home, by the very people I trusted. How could I have been so blind? What monstrous games had they been playing? Clasping Olivia close, Eleanor made a silent vow: absolute retribution. Then Olivia whispered: "I recorded them, Mom. I recorded everything." The hunter had become the hunted. It was time for Eleanor Hayes to show them the true meaning of power.

In her previous life, she was married to the Crown Prince since youth, and ruled over the six palaces for more than 10 years. In the end however, she met her demise at the betrayal of her younger sister and a fire burned everything to ashes. The phoenix is nirvana, reborn in fire, peerless elegance. Waving her hands she commanded the clouds and rain, inside the General's camp advancing step by step; Of the men in this world, just who can move that rusting heart? At the end of the dream, who will become her lifelong companion. A painting of blood-drenched lands, how can it rival the cinnabar between your brows*. (*TN: Cinnabar is a similar color to blood, and cinnabar between the brows symbolizes beauty. This line is an allegory to conquest versus beautiful women)

Is it possible for an eight-year-old girl to bear the memory of her previous life? What will you do if one day, after waking up in bed, you find yourself eight again and you are reminded of all the pain and humiliations you have suffered at the hands of those you once deemed close? In her previous life, the royal princess, Yun Shang, was traumatized both mentally, and physically. She was a wife betrayed by her husband, a mother who had witnessed the tragic death of her only child, and a sister who had experienced the cruelty of her royal elder sister. Now back to the age of eight, knowing what she knows about those people, how will she avenge herself? See for yourself!

After my family was exterminated, Dayna remained calm and indifferent, like a chrysanthemum. Fortunately, she was accepted into the Divine Mountainhead of the sect as a disciple and refused to disrespect my parents. However, the head of the sect judged me as disrespectful and Dayna was accepted as a closed-door disciple due to her loyalty and righteousness. After three years of mourning, we both fell into the Demon Clan during the ceremony of apprenticeship. While I struggled to find food and water, Dayna refused to eat anything that was not dignified. She criticized me for being subservient to the Demon Clan and lacking integrity. In the end, I died of starvation while Dayna gained favor with the Demon Sovereign and became her loyal servant. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my family was exterminated.

A story of love, betrayal, and power within the gilded walls of Azzam Palace In the glittering city of Azzam, where loyalty is a weapon and silence a shield, newly crowned King Kamil stands at the edge of power - young, brilliant, and haunted by the weight of a kingdom that watches his every move. Milan, a lowly palace maid with a quiet spirit and melodious voice accidentally crosses paths with him, neither expects the spark that follows - a forbidden connection born in the shadow of the throne. But love in Azzam is never easy. As enemies close in - Bashi- the scheming uncle, and Jodha, the ambitious princess who is just a pawn in Mirian (kamil step sister)'s hand, the palace becomes a battlefield of whispers and deceit. And when Milan is accused of a crime that could destroy her, Kamil must decide whether to follow his duty... or his heart. In a world where every smile hides a secret, and every act of mercy could cost a crown, one truth remains - even kings can fall in love, and even love can start a war. A war that is fueled by an unhealthy obsession

"You're just my tool. Know your place." It's her duty to follow her master's command. Even at the risk of injuring herself or losing her mind. It's his right to make use of her cold-heartedly. Even discarding her when she had become useless. She was a bird trapped inside a gilded cage, slowly losing her mind in the process. He was the heir of the country, regretting things he had lost in the process of power chasing. Could she ever be saved? Could he get back what he had lost? A love story between an antagonist and a side character. Melancholic Sword Apprentice (hidden shape-shifter) × Cunning Cold-hearted Master of Ivory Manor

Willow, daughter of Zane and River, has had a crush on her best friend since she was ten years old. Her overprotective family members and friends are worried that he'll break her heart. Meanwhile, however, an evil is brewing that may change every thing Willow thought she knew. Will she have the strength to over come it or will it break the cheerful girl. Will Trent, son of Micah and Lily, ever act on his desires for his best friend or will he allow insecurities to rule over his life. Join Zane, River, Micah, Lily, Rhett, Lacey, Vance and Grace as well as their many children in the third book of the Loving series. 1. Loving River 2. Loving Lily 3. The Ranger's Daughter 4. Loving Willow This is a clean historical romance that will have an HEA Happy Reading!

We often hear that love makes us blind, but when we add jealousy, we lose all beneficial notions, and we are ready to do anything so that the person at the origin of these evils, suffer. This is what will happen to Thetia Kestle, the youngest of the Kestle family. It is her older sister Jane who will be at the origin, and who will force her sister, the jewel of the Kestle family, to flee her native land, because death is at her heels. A love triangle is created between Jane, Thetia and Crown Prince Harlan VII Vassethier. Nevertheless, even in the deepest despair, we can find that glimmer of hope and swim to it so that we can finally breathe and be free of all these evils. Thetia will understand this during her long flight. Between betrayal, manipulation, life of prestige, wars, and love, how to know who will support you all your life and who will stab you in the back at the right moment.

Maxine lived her life with difficulties since she was born. Everyone thought she would become the Empress someday. Everyone expected her to be one because of the God's message before she was even born. All of the people had high expectations. She struggled learning how to become the best Ruler in the future. Her family became distant from her for her sake, that's what she thought. She became so stiff that everyone would think she was a heartless woman. But one day, the Prince fell inlove with the Empire's Princess prisoner from the neighboring Empire. The Ducal House of Zachrono started to fall, horrible and unfortunate things happened. The death of his five brothers and father stole her sanity that made her stab the Prince and led her to her own death. She thought she was dead but when she woke up, she realized she went back time 15 years ago and now, she's inside her younger self. The 5 years old girl. Will the history repeat itself? Or she can change the fate of her family?

"DARK LOVE" is a medieval horror romance story set in the mysterious Blackwood Manor. The story revolves around the cursed Blackwood family, who have made a pact with a dark entity, sacrificing one of their own every decade to maintain their wealth and power. The story introduces Emilia, a governess who arrives at the manor to care for the Blackwood children, Edward and Sophia. As Emilia navigates the eerie atmosphere of the manor, she discovers hints of the family's dark past and begins to uncover the secrets surrounding Lady Isabella, Lord Blackwood's sister, who disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Meanwhile, Lord Blackwood is struggling to understand the curse and its implications for his family. The story hints at a deepening romance between Emilia and a member of the Blackwood family, amidst the dark and supernatural forces that surround them. The story is building towards a climactic confrontation with the dark forces that have haunted the Blackwood family for generations. As the curse tightens its grip, the characters must navigate their complicated relationships, hidden secrets, and the sinister forces that threaten to destroy them all.

While falling from the building, there was only one thought in her head. ‘If rebirth is real, I hope I’m not born ever again. Life is too horrid to live again’ Her head hit the ground, splitting into a million pieces. The perfect way to die for someone who wanted to be unrecognized and forgotten. Like a painful dream, she opens her eyes and she's back again, 10 years in the past. She was back to the day she was being married off to the duke who was destined to abandon her and love another, to a prince who was obsessed with other people’s possession, and a witch who pretended to be a saint. ‘One of you gods up there must be messing with me, right?! I said I didn’t want to live again! What is the meaning of this?!’ Brought to the past, Natalia has two choices, flight or fight. What would’ve become a wasteful life in the slums was reversed when he had a hand stretched out to him. The prince was charming and kind and he would’ve given his life for him. However, betrayal was a bucket of cold water and a priced dagger in the back. He would never accept an outstretched hand but he couldn’t deny a sharpened sword to the neck. She’s not a knight in shining armor but she’s the salvation he needed and whether he liked it or not, he would give his life for her.