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Charlotte had done everything in her power to make Milton love her. For three years, she had showered him with love and was the perfect housewife, even giving up her identity as the lost daughter of the Buchanan family. However, on their third anniversary and her birthday, he slammed a divorce paper on her face. “Your sister has woken up from her coma. You were nothing but a replacement for her. Don’t think that I don’t know of your plans of hurting her three years ago and taking her fiance from her? Hurry and sign the divorce papers before she gets discharged.” Milton said, coldly. Charlotte, shocked and hurt by Milton's accusations, tried to explain herself, but he was not willing to listen. At that moment, she realized that all her efforts had been for nothing. She had been nothing but a murderer and a replacement in Milton's eyes. In a bold decision, She embraced her identity as the only daughter of the Buchanan family. Her days of being a submissive housewife were over. As the truth about her past and the events that led to her foster sister's coma began to unravel, Milton Henderson found himself captivated by this new Charlotte—the one who stood before him with her head held high, declaring, You Shouldn't Have Doubted Me, Mr. Henderson. Hurry up and leave before my brothers return.”

For my birthday, my husband, Don Damien, gave me his dead wife’s pearls. I wore them to the dinner party. My enraged stepson, Leo, doused me in red wine. I became the laughingstock of the party. “You whore,” he hissed. “You think wearing my mother’s jewelry makes you her?” He stared at me, his eyes cold as ice. Then he screamed. "Get out of my house." But his mother died when he was a baby. I raised him. Someone had whispered poison in his ear. They told him I was the one who killed his mother. Now he thinks I'm a scheming bitch who tricked his father. And his father? My husband? He never saw me. He only saw Krista’s ghost. My heart didn't break. It shattered. They didn't love me. They didn't even care. So I walked. Then why, after I was finally gone, did they come crawling back, begging me to return?

Ten years ago, I lost my sight saving Ivan Hardman. Now, a decade later, Ivan lets his mistress live under the same roof as me. Every night, he coaxes me to sleep in the first half, only to spend the rest tangled up with her. Even my son secretly calls her "Mom." What they don't know is, I've regained my sight. And I'm planning my escape.

Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | 18+ | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Pace It started with a kiss I don’t remember giving. A rooftop. A moan. Someone’s fingers buried in my hair like they belonged there. A mouth on my throat that said I tasted like something they lost in another life. I wasn’t dreaming. The city was already cracking beneath me. Power grids flickering like dying stars. Tech failing. Screens static. The sky bruising in strange new colors. Everyone said it was coincidence. Collapse. Noise. But I knew better. The moment I felt her breath on my skin — even if I couldn’t see her — I knew the end had already arrived. And I had something to do with it. Ten butterflies followed me after that. Not literal ones. Not always. They shimmered in my periphery. Each the wrong color. Each too vivid. Each drawn to me like heat to blood. They touched me in dreams. They watched me when I undressed. They whispered without words. I could taste their want. Some called me cursed. Broken. Unstable. But the truth is simpler. I’m blooming again — and they all feel it. They don’t love me. They remember me. They remember what I used to be — what I still am, underneath the silence. One of them burned me with just a kiss. One broke my spine with kindness. One slid her hand under my shirt like it was always hers. One cries when she touches me. One never speaks, but her eyes dig. One wants to keep me. One wants to ruin me. And one just wants to finish what we started. They think I’m choosing. I’m not. My body already did. And now the bloom inside me is turning darker.

He killed my father. Then he married me. On our wedding night, Alessandro Romano handed me a gun. "Shoot me, or let me fuck you like you're mine.”I should have pulled the trigger. Instead, I let him tear my dress off. Let him back me against the door. Let him put his fingers inside me while he whispered every filthy thing he wanted to do to my body. I came so hard I saw stars. Then I found the police report. Proof he murdered my father when I was twelve. Proof he's been watching me ever since. I ran. Got pregnant with his baby. Hide in my stepbrother's house. Big mistake. Now the monster who gave me the best orgasm of my life is hunting me down. And my body won't stop remembering how good his hands felt on my throat.

I was reborn, back to the day before my wedding. The first thing I did? I swapped husbands with my sister. Last time around, I married Julian, a mild-mannered tech mogul. He couldn't handle my fiery temper, and I couldn't stand how soft he was. Our marriage crashed and burned in a year. My sister, sweet and timid, was in an arranged marriage with Robin Kane, the Don of New York's biggest crime family. She couldn't handle the brutal, chaotic life. Tormented by Robin's so-called childhood sweetheart, Isabella, she fell into a deep depression and died. So when I came back, I made a decision. I’d be the one to marry the Don. But I never expected that after the wedding, the cold, stoic Don would become a different man. Every night, he’d be on top of me, kissing me like he was obsessed, whispering, "Good girl. I'll make you feel good. Just one more time, baby?"

She signed the contract to save her family. She woke up married to not one ruthless Don — but two. Nico Black is the charming face who teases her until she shakes. Matteo Black is the silent shadow who takes without asking. And the dark echo bond that ties them together means every gasp, every tear, every burning thing her body does against her will... they feel all of it. Aurora Kane is trapped in a penthouse that smells like cedar and danger, paraded at galas in dresses that feel like costumes, broken down night after night until she barely recognizes the girl in the mirror. But the quiet, soft-eyed woman they bought with a contract has been hacking their accounts since week one. She knows their secrets. She knows their weaknesses. She knows who inside their empire ordered her father's death. And she is done surviving. In a world built on blood, obsession, and twisted desire... the men who thought they owned her are about to find out exactly who holds the power. They wanted a pawn. They built their own ruin instead.

The day she found out about the tumor, Noemi Rosales made one wild choice—she'd give her corneas to her blind husband, Daniel Gomez. Quietly. No spotlight, no drama. Too bad Daniel only cared about Ivanna Lopez. He ate up every lie she fed him and iced Noemi out like she was nothing. "I want you out of my life." Cool. Noemi could do that. "Ms. Rosales, are you certain you want Mr. Gomez listed as the cornea recipient?" "Yeah. Give them to him. Once I'm gone, the hospital can use the rest of me for science or whatever." She scrawled her signature. "Don't tell him."

I'd been married to Matteo—the Lamberti Don—for five years. No one knew I was his wife. I didn't want the perks. The spotlight. So I stayed invisible. We were in love. Still felt like dating every single day. Then my first day at the new hospital wrecked everything. "Dr. Accardi, you won't believe this." A coworker leaned in, grinning. "Guess who that new patient's husband is? Matteo freaking Lamberti." I froze. If she was his wife—then who was I? She was pregnant. Carrying the future Lamberti heir. So what did that make the baby inside me? I held it together. Did the exam. Played the calm, capable doctor. No one saw the panic clawing through me. I told myself it was gossip. Lies. It had to be. Then I heard Matteo call her 'my princess.' That was it. He had a new 'princess.' And I had to let him go.

To "fix" Leonard Rinehart's oh-so-tragic depression, Naomi Gaffron—yeah, the same girl who once swore she'd only ever marry me—secretly tied the knot with him. So I gave in. Played along with the family's little matchmaking stunt. Married Aurelia Spencer—Brieton City's golden girl who'd been obsessed with me since forever. For seven years, she clung to me like I was oxygen. Every night, curled up like she'd break if I moved. I thought that was happiness. Then one night, I caught her whispering to her best friend: "Leonard's already got international awards. When are you dumping Leone?" "Whatever—I'm stuck with someone I don't love anyway. Doesn't matter who I married. Someone's gotta keep an eye on Leone so he doesn't screw up everything Leonard built." I checked her study. Found a hidden folder—over 100,000 photos of Leonard. A hundred unsent love letters. Even I couldn't fake it anymore. Bought a silicone dummy. Laid out the plan. The fire would be step one. Dead or alive—we're done.