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I am reborn with memories of my past life. And I carry a secret with me: my fiance, Ethan Larsen, had forged our marriage certificate. The one he had actually married was Serena Gray. But I do not expose his lie. Instead, I quietly submit my application to Greenvale University and eventually become a permanent resident in Verenza. In my past life, I spent a lifetime believing in a lie. I thought I was his wife, until I learned the truth on the day he died. He married Serena out of love but kept me only due to his sense of duty. On the funeral day, Serena arrived dressed in white, holding the actual marriage certificate in her hand. She effortlessly took over all his inheritance, while I was thrown out of the house, penniless, with nothing left but a trampled heart. In this life, I will no longer beg for love nor stay put out of pity. I'll leave quietly and live freely. They can keep acting out their so-called "perfect" love story. Because now, I can see it crystal clear—some women are born to be loved, while others are reborn so they don't have to wait to be loved.

By the fifth year of my marriage to River Grayson, I had stopped checking his call logs and chat records. Instead, I spent my nights drinking and partying with my girlfriends at the poolside bar. When his ninety-ninth missed call lit up my screen, I let out a cold laugh and tossed my phone straight into the water. It didn't take long before he came storming in. The moment he pulled the strawberry-scented condom out of my pocket, he turned grim and banned me from leaving the house after 7:00 PM. "Joanne, you weren't like this before." I thought back to last month, when I had run into him at the hospital. He had lied about being on a business trip out of town, but there he was, holding Yvonne Sinclair's hand. I still remembered his words. "You lost your uterus from saving me back then. My sperm is perfectly fine. I'll give you a child—with your mother's help." Now, staring into his furious eyes, I said coldly, "Don't worry. There's no going back for us anymore."

“I don't make mistakes," he told her. "And I certainly don't pay for them twice." Five years ago, Elena Hart made the ultimate mistake. She fell for her cold, untouchable boss, billionaire heir Adrian Voss. When a reckless night left her pregnant, she expected the truth to mean something. Instead, he accused her of extortion, used his wealth to erase the problem, and left her with nothing. Elena vanished to protect her unborn child. Adrian kept his pristine reputation and his empire, confident he had buried a nuisance forever. He was wrong. Five years later, Adrian is desperate. His company is crumbling, and his only salvation lies in the hands of a mysterious new majority shareholder. He walks into the boardroom ready to negotiate for his legacy. But the woman waiting at the head of the table isn't a stranger. She is the woman he threw away. She is wealthy, ruthless, and holding his entire world in the palm of her hand. Adrian thought he could buy her silence. Now, she is going to make him pay. But with a five-year-old secret caught in the crossfire, will Elena crush the man who broke her, or will the truth change the rules of the game?

They say the perfect crime leaves no witnesses. But what happens when the victim refuses to stay dead? On the happiest day of her life, she was betrayed by the only person she trusted. He took her fortune. He erased her name. He watched her burn and toasted to her memory. He thinks he is safe. He thinks the past is buried six feet under. But what if the grave was empty? Three years later, a mysterious woman walks into his life. She is everything he desires: powerful, beautiful, and dangerous. She knows his secrets before he speaks them. She knows his weaknesses before he shows them. He is drawn to her like a moth to a flame, unaware that she is the very fire he tried to extinguish. He thinks he’s found a new partner. He has no idea he is shaking hands with his own executioner. She is standing right in front of him, wearing a stranger’s face but holding a dead woman’s grudge. How long can a murderer look into the eyes of his victim without realizing who she is? And when the mask finally slips... will he have time to scream?

I used to believe silence meant peace. That if I endured long enough, stayed patient long enough, things would eventually fall into place. But the morning everything changed, I realized how wrong I had been. A room I had once asked for was suddenly cleared. Not for me. For someone else. For her. My husband didn’t hesitate when he said it. No explanation. No consideration. Just a decision that reminded me exactly where I stood in his life. I tried to ignore it. Told myself it wasn’t worth questioning. Until my birthday came. And went. No acknowledgment. No effort. Nothing. Just the quiet understanding that I no longer mattered. Then the truth found me. One moment was all it took to see everything clearly—the lies, the betrayal, the role I had been playing in a life that was never truly mine. So I signed the papers. I walked away from the marriage, from the name, from everything I had spent years holding together. I thought leaving would be the hardest part. I was wrong. Because walking away was only the beginning. And some endings don’t set you free— they pull you into something far more complicated.

Diego strolled into his apartment, his heels clinking softly against the marble floor. He tossed his blonde wig on the couch, and his soft fingers propelled forward to count the dollar bills in his hands. “You're out crossdressing again?” His uncle, Roberto, a tall imposing figure with gray streaks on his hair walked into the room. “I might just have the perfect job for you,” Roberto chuckled softly and tossed a gun at Diego. “What?!” Diego's breath hitched in his throat as he swallowed the weight of the mission his uncle proposed. Cross dressing was one thing that Diego did with ease. There was no way he could do what his uncle requested; assassinating the infamous mafia lord of the Rocco empire. He stood in front of a mirror, holding the gun that Roberto had handed to him. There was no way that this soft and delicate hand could pull a trigger. Diego didn't expect that the mafia lord he was set up against was going to be a man who'll make his heart flutter. He tried to resist, bracing himself to complete his mission. But things only got heated when he found himself “entangled in the rival's hold.”

Five years. Five years of waiting. Five years of loving him in secret. She thought she knew the truth—until the night everything shattered. Trapped between a man who wants to destroy her and the wolf inside the one she loves, she must fight to survive… and to save him. “Oh my God… what happened?? Why are you like this??” she cried, holding him close. “It’s already too late for me,” he whispered, pain etched in every word. “No!! You can’t die!! I won’t let you!!” “I'm so sorry… I have never regretted having you as my mate,” he murmured, a faint smile on his lips. But some battles aren’t won with strength alone. Some sacrifices come at a cost she’s not ready to pay. “I accept your rejection,” he said, his final words tearing her world apart. When love, loyalty, and rage collide, can she escape with her heart—and her life—intact, or will the ones she trusts the most be the ones who destroy her? A heart-pounding, darkly emotional tale of love, betrayal, and the choices that haunt us forever.

After the 100th failed fertility treatment, my husband, who had been previously diagnosed with a low sperm count, spoke coldly. “Lucy is very fertile. She gets pregnant after our first time, unlike you. You just can’t conceive.” Lucy was my adoptive sister. While holding her hand, he laid out three options for me. I could either ignore their affair and retain my title as the CEO’s wife, take the ten million dollars and disappear, or walk away with nothing at all. The whole town knew how proud I was. They also knew how deeply I loved him. They surely expected me to be mad with jealousy and choose honor over compromise. But I neither cried nor made a scene. I calmly slid the check back across the table. “The child will call me Mom. I’ll stay and be Mrs. Carter.” After all, this was my third time to live such a life. The first time, I chose to leave with nothing but my dignity. The second time, I took the money, but had to live in shame. Both decisions ended in tragedy. For the third time, perhaps three of us could just... make it work.

My mother claims my husband has cheated on me and pushes me to get a divorce. I want to collect evidence before proceeding with anything—if it's true, I have to uphold my rights. Yet she causes a scene at an art exhibition I've worked on for three years, humiliating me in public and making me sound like a gold digger. "How are you any different from a prostitute when you're holding this dumb exhibition with a man's money? I didn't raise you to be a gold digger! How can you be so revolting?" She slashes the million-dollar paintings in the exhibition, claiming that she's doing this for my good. She wants me to see the error of my ways and return to the right path. Meanwhile, I clutch my bloody hand, which she slashed with her blade. I say, "You say you want me to return to the right path, but is that what it really is? You want me to divorce my legally wedded husband, who's a CEO, without a penny to my name. "Then, you want me to marry a 45-year-old cheap man who has a child and no money? He even wants me to support him!"

The Moon Goddess offered me her protection. If I died, I'd get one chance to be reborn through the werewolf trials. I was born with "sensory impairment." I wasn't an Omega, but I couldn't shift into a wolf. I couldn't see or sense wolves in their lupine forms or their power. When I appeared alongside ninety-nine other trial candidates in an ancient rainforest shrouded in thick fog and darkness, everyone assumed I wouldn't make it past the first day. But here I was, in the terrifying rainforest nests, treating a ghostly wolf pup, drowned for its unusual coat color, as my own little cub. And, I flirted with a bloodthirsty vampire spirit who took pleasure in killing, treating him like a lover. I even befriended the evil twin Hexenbiest, treating them like sisters. The first time we met, I reached out and ran my hand over the vampire's abs. "Nice body," I commented, "just a bit on the short side." He let out a humorless laugh, reattached the head he'd been holding to his neck, and gripped my chin. "I'm six-foot-five," he said. "Want to take another look?"