Are There Books Similar To The Short And Tragic Life Of Robert Peace?

Robert Blackwell promised to marry me, then postponed it thirty-eight times. The fifth time, a car crash broke eight of his ribs, and I signed seven critical-condition notices. The tenth time, on the way to get our marriage license, he and the car were thrown into the sea, and his suit was torn apart by sharks. By the thirty-eighth time, his heart disease had worsened and his life was hanging by a thread. Eight months pregnant, I changed flights three times and flew twenty-three hours across half the world to find him. When the door opened, a little boy who looked exactly like him lifted his face and said, "I thought Mom was back." Robert rushed out barefoot, panic written all over his face. I turned around and saw my best friend of twelve years standing behind me with a key in her hand. The little boy ran to her and threw himself into her arms, calling her Mom. So the fiance I had waited seven years for was my best friend's secret husband all along. "I will not wait through these thirty-eight near-death weddings anymore." "Robert, I do not want you either."

My father’s death was ruled a suicide, but I knew it was murder. The last word he left behind was a name: Volkov. So I buried the girl I once was, built a new identity, and walked straight into the world of the man I believed had taken him from me. Damian Volkov was everything one should fear—cold, brilliant, untouchable. Yet the longer I stayed, the more I saw the fractures beneath his control. Behind his silence lived a sorrow that mirrored mine. I sought vengeance, but somewhere between hate and obsession, I fell for the man I swore to ruin. Now I stand between the monster who ruined me and the only man I have ever truly loved. Until a truth I never thought possible tore through every reason I had to hate him: He is my stepbrother, born from a one-night stand my father could neither bury nor escape.

I’m caring for the man my brother paralyzed. Kai Petrova doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know my real last name. Doesn’t know I walked into his mansion with a lie on my lips. Doesn’t know that five years ago, my brother drove drunk and killed his fourteen-year-old sister. He just knows I’m the only caregiver who didn’t quit. I needed the money. My mother is dying, and this job pays $135,000 for six months of work. I told myself I could do it. All I had to do was keep my head down, stay professional, get the money and get out. But then he started to trust me, he started to look at me. And I made the worst mistake of my life: I fell in love with him. Now I’m trapped. Because every time he touches me, I think about the reason he’s on a wheelchair. Every time he smiles, I see his dead sister’s face on the walls of his studio. When the truth comes out—and it will—he’s going to hate me. But the worst part? The accident that destroyed both our families wasn’t an accident at all. Someone wanted Kai dead. Someone made sure my brother took the fall. And someone is still out there, watching us get closer, waiting for the perfect moment to destroy us both. I thought the secret I was keeping would kill me. I was wrong. It’s going to kill him.

After a full week of night shifts, I make a fatal mistake—injecting my son, Ricky Lambert, with phenobarbital, mistaking it for an antibiotic. The injection stops his breathing instantly, and the hospital soon declares him brain-dead. My husband, Terence Lambert, completely falls apart when he hears the news. The only thing that calms him is holding his nephew, Ryan Lambert, who looks so much like Ricky. So, I give up my transfer to Harborstone to Wendy Larson, my brother-in-law's wife. I even agree to adopt her son. Because of that mistake, I work hard and endure Terence's coldness day after day without a word of complaint. Ten years later, when Wendy returns home a success, that's when I accidentally overhear her speaking with Terence. "Back then, to help me get residency at Harborstone, you swapped the medicine and killed your own son. Do you really not regret it?" Terence sneers. "Of course not. I promised I'd help you rise above the rest. And I know Rosalie too well. If she knows there is a chance to go back to Harborstone, she'll fight you for it to the bitter end. "I have to use Ricky's death to trap her for good. It also gives me the perfect excuse to make her raise our son, so you can focus on your career without any burden." I can't believe what I'm hearing. I run out the door and accidentally fall into a raging river. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the very day the hospital declares Ricky dead.

One life for another. That is the rule of the Aftergame. Lena was a ghostwriter who lived in the shadows—until a devastating betrayal by her sister pushed her into the path of a speeding truck. She expected the void. Instead, she woke up in a sadistic, system-driven purgatory where the dead must compete for a second chance at life. In this gore-soaked nightmare, survival has a name: Riven. A lethal player with eyes like cold flint, Riven breaks the game’s cardinal rule to save Lena, making them both targets of the system’s wrath. But as they reach the final level, the horrific truth unvails. Riven isn’t a player. He is the Executioner—a sentient program designed to mimic love, only to deliver the ultimate soul-crushing betrayal. But Riven has developed a terminal malfunction: he truly loves her. Now, Lena is back in the land of the living, but the world is starting to pixelate. To save her, the machine that was meant to kill her has built her a cage. And in the Aftergame, mercy is the most terrifying fate of all.

The day before Chris Carter and I were supposed to get engaged, my parents sent me to prison. Three years later, when I was finally released, Chris was the only one who came to pick me up. I knew he despised me. I trembled, keeping my head down, hoping to slip away unnoticed. But he blocked my path, frowning. “Emily York? You stink.” He pinched his nose and told me to get in the car. I fell to my knees, desperately begging him not to take me home. If he did, I would die. He looked at me with chilling indifference and said, “Then go ahead and die.” I agreed. But later, he cried and begged me to stay alive.