Got House

When Isabelle discovers her husband Karl's three-year affair with Natalie, her world shatters. For eight years, she believed in their love, even as she struggled to conceive the child he desperately wanted. Now pregnant and heartbroken, Isabelle must decide whether to confront the betrayal or silently endure for the sake of her unborn child. But then darker truths come knocking at the door, leaving Isabelle wondering strangely on how to handle things. Where there is strength, there is also toxic love. But can she be bound to it forever?

Buried three years ago, Sera returns with no memories, a dangerous hunger she can't control, and a grave that still bears her name. When she returns to Silvercrest territory under the name Maya, the last person she expects to face is Alpha Kaden Thorn—the man who once rejected her and shattered their mate bond. His wolf still recognizes her. His heart never forgot her. But claiming her again could kill them both. As memories resurface and loyalties shatter, Sera must choose: reclaim the life stolen from her… or surrender to the monster awakening inside her. In a world where love is a curse and memories are weapons, nothing will ever be the same.

Three years ago, Elara was rejected by the most feared Alpha alive. Now, she's back with no memory of him, no memory of the child she carries… and a ring on her finger that binds her to another. Orion never expected to see her again, not after what he did, not after what she became. But the mate bond doesn’t die. And this time, it may be the only thing keeping them both alive.

After a long time away from his parents' home, he must return to see his sick mother. The problem is that he is forced to marry a girl. The thing is he's not interested with girls, luckily he have a best friend who would marry him for a contract. His best friend who’s apparently living with him for a while now.

I’d been dead a month before my family even noticed. It wasn’t concern that brought them to that realization. It was my silence after the so-called “dinner” with Adam Rossi, the infamous mafia boss. My father scoffed like always,“She probably shacked up with that bastard. Too busy spreading her legs to pick up the damn phone.” My sister texted me a photo of them smiling under the Christmas tree, ornaments twinkling like nothing was wrong. Bitch, she wrote. You better talk Mr. Rossi into working with Dad, or you might as well be dead already. And my mother—once the softer one—was now colder than the frost on their windows. “I told you, we should’ve sent Gia to charm Mr. Rossi. Serena always screws things up.” They didn’t think I would die. Not until they found my body—broken, rotten, and forgotten—in Adam Rossi’s basement.

For over thirty years, my wife Janet faked being broke—for her flimsy ex. When our son Asher landed in the hospital, I begged and borrowed from everyone I knew. Still came up fifty bucks short. Janet? Said she was tapped out. So my mom sold off her own meds to cover the bill—never told me. She died without treatment. I handled my mom's funeral alone. When I went to pick up Asher from the hospital, I found a stash of Janet's old shopping receipts. Custom suits. Million-dollar watches. A damn private jet. I grabbed them and stormed off to confront her. Asher cut me off. "Dad, Mr. Sackett's sick. Mom's just helping him out. Why are you freaking out?" I stared at the kid who only lived because my mom died. It felt like something cracked inside me. Janet barely looked up. "Connor's educated. He deserves the finer things. Unlike you—crying over fifty bucks like some househusband. See? I didn't give you the money, and Asher's fine." Fine. If that's how they see it, I'm done with this family.

My mother hated me, to the point that she wished I were dead. I knew I deserved to die. Sixteen years ago, if I hadn’t insisted on going out, my brother wouldn’t have died while trying to save me. Eventually, both of us got what we wished for. I got brain cancer. She had become a stranger to me as I forgot everything and went to die in blissful ignorance. Then, she went mad.

Silver burned. Holy light seared. I screamed my brother’s name, Theron, into the communication crystal. My consciousness was fading. His cold voice finally crackled through. "What now?" I fought through the pain, my voice weak. "Theron, please… help me…" He cut me off, his voice a razor's edge. "Enough! Lilith is hosting the Blood Moon Festival. Stop causing trouble. If you’re tormenting her out of jealousy again, I’ll throw you in the sun cells myself." The line went dead. Lilith. Our manipulative little adoptive sister. Was she really more important to him than his own blood? The silver poison and searing light consumed me. I shattered. My tears turned to ash, my body right behind them. Congratulations, Theron. You're free of your annoying sister. You don't have to lock me up anymore. Because I'm already dead.

For ten years, my professor husband, Daniel Whitmore, and I loved each other deeply, treating each other with respect and care. Our only regret was that he had azoospermia, so we were never able to have a child. Then, on our tenth wedding anniversary, the housekeeper, Megan Wright, suddenly claimed she was pregnant with Daniel's child. I thought she was joking. Two days later, she threw a paternity test result in my face. The test proved that the child she was carrying was Daniel's. Megan sued us. On the day of the hearing, she cried in front of the courthouse, telling the media how Daniel had molested her. She said we were a pair of perverts who treated her like a breeding machine and kept her confined in our home. Daniel and I couldn't defend ourselves at all. The netizens labeled us demon employers and nailed us to a pillar of shame. Daniel lost his job at the university, and his students were ashamed of him. I was fired from my company that same day. In the end, Daniel couldn't withstand the pressure of public opinion and committed suicide in prison. I became a rat on the streets, hunted down and beaten by netizens. Driven insane, I wandered into traffic and died miserably in the middle of the road. Even at death, I couldn't understand how Megan had become pregnant with the child of my husband, who had azoospermia. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn to the day before Megan claimed she was pregnant with Daniel's child.

Drugs disappeared during one of our family’s deals—and everyone knew it was my stepsister, Emily’s fault. Now, our rivals demanded someone be sent to them, held captive until the debt was repaid. My fiancé, my family—they all agreed it should be me. “Emily already got hurt in the mission. You are stronger. You can handle it while we figure things out.” I knew this moment was coming. And so I signed my name. In five days, I’d be sent away. And I have decided that no matter what happened—whether I lived or died—I was done with my family and my fiancé. In those last days, I gave everything I owned away. The casino? To my stepsister, who had always eyed it with envy. My checking account? To my father, who never missed a chance to remind me how useless I was. The engagement ring? Back to the man who’d been fake as hell. They didn’t notice anything off. They just smiled, pleased with how thoughtful I’d suddenly become. When they realized I was gone for good—and that their fragile Emily was their undoing—would they still smile like that? Would they still look so content?