FAZER LOGINSHE WAS PUSHED TO HER DEATH BY THE MAN SHE LOVED. NOW, SHE’S BACK—AND SHE’S MARRYING HIS BIGGEST ENEMY. Vespera Thorne spent five years building her husband’s empire, only to be betrayed and murdered by him for her stepsister. But fate gives her a second chance. Reborn on the morning of her engagement, Vespera makes a ruthless choice: she walks away from her golden-boy fiancé—and proposes a contract marriage to Cyprian Hale, the city’s most feared and filthy-rich outcast. Cyprian is ruthless, possessive, and dangerously obsessed with her. He agrees to her deal, but he wants more than just revenge. He wants her. Together, they embark on a war of ruin—destroying her ex’s empire piece by piece, slapping every face that ever looked down on her, and uncovering a royal secret that changes everything. But as lines blur and passions ignite, Vespera must choose: Is she still the vengeful ghost of her past? Or has she finally found a love worth living for?
Ver maisMadeline:
"You're pregnant, Madeline." The doctor sat in her seat, her eyes fixed on me as she pointed to the reports on the table. My heart stopped. I had suspected it when I missed my period, but I hadn’t dared to accept the truth. "Do you know who the baby's father is? Is it your fated mate?" she asked in a soft but firm tone, tapping the tip of her pen on the reports. I was shaking under my oversized hoodie, my sleeves pulled so far down that only the tips of my fingers were visible. Waiting for the results had knotted me with anxiety, and now that they were in front of me, even breathing felt heavy. My mind spun with a thousand questions. What would happen to me now? The doctor would tell the alpha, and then what would happen? My heart sank. The council would be furious. An 18-year-old girl without a wolf or mate getting pregnant was enough to shake the entire pack. That was unacceptable. The doctor’s eyes said it all, she was judging me. "Tell me, Madeline, you do know you are the daughter of an omega, right? And they spend their entire life savings on your education, and this is how you repay them. Does your mother know you are pregnant?" she hissed, her eyes crunched in disgust. She wouldn’t speak to a beta, gamma, or alpha’s daughter this way, but I was just an omega’s daughter. Of course, she felt no empathy for me. I started nervously fidgeting with my fingers. "Madeline, do you even know who the father of your baby is?" Her voice snapped louder this time, but what cut deepest was that she was right. I didn’t know who the father of my baby was. Two Months Ago: "Happy birthday, Madeline!" Alpha Elgin sang in the sweetest tone, while Alpha Graham and Alpha Baxter clapped along. It meant so much that my three best friends had come to celebrate my 18th birthday. "So, what did you wish for, Madeline?" Alpha Graham asked, his green eyes sparkling. His black hair fell perfectly over his forehead, a little messy in that effortlessly handsome way. Every time I looked at him, my heart skipped a beat. But I doubted he ever noticed me that way. To him, I was just the silly little friend he had known since we were too young to understand love. "If I tell you my wish, it won’t come true," I said with a small smile, feeling shy around them. All three were powerful Alphas from large packs–over six feet five, muscular, and very handsome. "Okay, fine. Don’t tell us your wish," Alpha Baxter said, his gray eyes fixed on me. "Just tell us, did you find your mate today?" My heart started racing, and I was confused. Why was I attracted to all three of them? They were my best friends. A crush was supposed to be for just one person, right? But I felt differently around each of them. "No, I still haven’t found my fated mate. But my wolf isn’t awake yet either," I murmured, shrugging. Sadness washed over me. "Alright, enough," Alpha Elgin said, smiling. "Why are we sitting around talking about mates when she already has three friends here? What does she need a mate for?" His blue eyes flicked to Graham and Baxter. "Let’s not spoil the mood. We’re here to celebrate her birthday. Let’s make it special." "Hold on, Elgin. I don’t agree with that," Graham said, but after a moment, he leaned back, stretching with a quiet yawn. As he did, his shirt shifted slightly, and I glimpsed his abs. His pants sat a bit low on his hips, showing the waistband of his underwear and his V-line. I tried not to look, but I couldn’t resist. "She will need a mate eventually," Graham said after stretching. "The three of us are her friends, but a friend can never replace a fated mate." He adjusted his shirt, and I had to force myself to focus on his words. "Don’t get me wrong," he added, "I’ll always stand by her, but some things only a mate can do." He sat back on the bed, his gaze intense and focused on me. "What things?" I asked, unsure what he meant. They exchanged a glance, then looked back at me. "Tell me," I pressed, still confused. Baxter glanced at Graham and smirked. "Who will help you with your body heat, Madeline? You’ll need a mate for that," Baxter said, leaning across the small table with the cake. The way he said it, looking straight at me, made my heart race. We were alone at my house; my family wouldn’t be back until the next evening. "Oh, look, she’s blushing," Graham teased, poking my cheek lightly. His voice lowered, losing some of its teasing tone. I looked down, and they all laughed. "Okay, you’re getting ahead of yourselves. Her mate or not, we’re here for her," Elgin said, stopping their laughter. I looked at them, noticing how closely they were watching me. "I mean," he continued, "isn’t it easier with friends? She might feel more comfortable with us, and we can be gentle." Elgin got up and sat beside me on the sofa, making me squeeze into the corner. He placed his hand on my thigh, and my heart sank. "I agree. We can make you more comfortable than some stranger claiming to be your mate." Baxter, agreeing with Elgin, left me shocked. For a moment, I thought they were joking. I never imagined they could look at me like that. "I don’t understand," I said softly. "Let me explain," Elgin whispered, leaning close while the others watched. "Let us be your first. We will be gentle with your pussy." The moment he said that, I understood what they meant. Call it my desire for their attention or the result of a long-time crush, but I gave in. I remember them taking turns, and I felt every moment with them. Their whispers and promises to never leave me made me feel confident being with all of them. The night ended, and we all fell asleep. I hoped to wake up with them beside me, holding onto the promises they made. But I woke alone, wrapped in a blanket and naked underneath. I sat up quickly, confused and shocked. They were gone. The worst part came when I checked my phone and realized they had all blocked me. Present Time: "Madeline, I asked you something. Do you know who the father is?" Doctor Willow’s voice thundered as she slammed her hand on the table. The sound snapped me out of my thoughts. I slowly lifted my head and met her eyes. What I saw shocked me. She was angry and disgusted. I was trapped in something far bigger than I had imagined. I was pregnant, with no clue which of the three was the father. And the three who had promised to stand by me were nowhere in sight. They were gone.The Hale Fortress. The Private Library.Sunday. 11:00 PM.The library was the quietest room in the Fortress. It smelled of old paper, leather binding, and the faint, lingering scent of the vanilla tea Vespera had finished an hour ago.Outside, a gentle rain tapped against the bulletproof glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows. It wasn't the violent storm of the past, nor the chaotic dimensional rifts of the recent week. It was just rain. Cleansing. rhythmic. Peaceful.Vespera Hale walked along the mahogany shelves, trailing her fingers over the spines of the books.Philosophy. Strategy. History.She stopped.On a shelf at eye level, nestled between The Art of War and a first edition of The Count of Monte Cristo, was a book she didn't recognize.It had no dust jacket. The binding was matte black, textured like volcanic rock. The lettering on the spine was silver, sharp and angular.SAVAGE REBORN.Vespera frowned. She knew every book in this library. She had curated it herself.She pulle
The Hale Fortress. The Gardens.Wednesday. 10:00 PM.The air smelled of ozone, sulfur, and high-quality wagyu beef.The inter-dimensional raid was over. The adrenaline was fading. Now, the Council of Vesperas and the Council of Cyprians were doing something they rarely did: relaxing.In the center of the patio, Fantasy Cyprian (The Shadow Knight) was using his flaming greatsword to light the charcoal grill."A bit more to the left," Modern Cyprian instructed, holding a pair of tongs.WOOSH.A gout of magical fire ignited the coals instantly."Efficient," Modern Cyprian nodded.Around the garden, the variants mingled under the soft glow of the string lights. It was a surreal cocktail party at the end of the universe.Modern Vespera sat on a stone bench next to Fantasy Vespera. They were both holding glasses of wine—Modern had a vintage Merlot, Fantasy had a goblet of mead she had conjured."So," Modern Vespera said, looking at her armored counterpart. "You have to go back to the mud an
Dimension X-9. The Golden Palace. The Throne Room.Local Time: The Age of the Sun.Emperor Lysander sat on a throne made of melted swords and pure ego.He wore a golden toga and a laurel wreath made of diamonds. In this timeline, he had found the Orb of Control early. He had enslaved the populace, crushed the resistance, and turned the world into a shrine to his own magnificence.At the foot of the dais, a woman in rags scrubbed the marble floor.She had matted hair and bruises on her arms. She kept her head down, terrified to look up.Slave Vespera."Missed a spot," Emperor Lysander sneered. He kicked over a goblet of wine, watching the red liquid splash onto her clean floor. "Clean it up. And be grateful I let you live to serve me."Slave Vespera trembled. "Yes, Master.""I am a God!" Lysander shouted to the empty room, spreading his arms. "No one can stop me! Not the rebels! Not the Council! I own time itself!"BOOM.The eastern wall of the palace—a solid slab of gold-reinforced co
The Hale Fortress. The Library.Wednesday. 8:45 PM.If the Dining Room was a chaotic storm of conflicting egos and pizza grease, the Library was the eye of the hurricane.It was a sanctuary of dark leather, mahogany, and silence.Five figures occupied the room. They weren't speaking. They weren't arguing. They were simply... existing.Modern Cyprian Hale sat in his high-backed wing chair near the fireplace, swirling a glass of 50-year-old single malt. He looked weary but content.Across from him, sitting on a sturdy oak bench, was Fantasy Cyprian (The Shadow Knight). He was still wearing full plate armor, which groaned softly every time he breathed. He had a massive greatsword across his lap and was rhythmically running a whetstone along the edge.Shhhk. Shhhk. Shhhk.Leaning against the mantelpiece was Mafia Cyprian (The Enforcer). He wore a fedora tilted low over his eyes and a pinstripe suit that strained against his shoulders. He was smoking a thick cigar, blowing perfect smoke ri
St. Jude’s Chapel. The Outskirts of Sector 3.The First Timeline. Seven Years Ago.It smelled of damp wool and stale incense.Vespera Thorne stood in the vestibule of the small, drafty church, clutching a bouquet of white roses that were already beginning to brown at the edges.She had bought them
Hale Corp Helipad. The Roof.06:00 AM.The sunrise was a violent streak of orange cutting through the grey smog of Sector 1.The black Hale tactical helicopter touched down with a deafening roar. Oryn was in the pilot’s seat. He had picked them up from the wasteland coordinates ten minutes after Al
Hale Corp Headquarters. Level B-4 (Detention).09:30 AM.The holding cell was a glass box suspended in the center of a white room. It was soundproof, bulletproof, and designed to hold corporate spies until the Feds arrived.Nova Vance sat on the metal bench.She stared at her reflection in the glas
The Industrial Wasteland. Sector 4 Outskirts.01:00 AM.The rain had turned the dirt path into sludge.Altair Hale stumbled, his Italian leather shoes slipping in the mud. He gritted his teeth against the scream of pain in his left shoulder—likely a hairline fracture from the crash—and tightened hi












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