Hentai Periodic Table

Serena gave everything to the man she loved—her trust, her devotion, her future. But betrayal shattered it all. Pregnant and full of hope, she walked in on her husband tangled in bed with another woman. What followed was worse: the slow, agonizing loss of her baby… and then her own life, bleeding out on an operating table, heartbroken and alone. But fate wasn’t finished with her. Reborn with every memory intact, Serena wakes in the past—stronger, colder, and no longer naive. This time, she’s ready to rewrite her story. This time, she’ll make them pay. Because the girl they destroyed… came back for revenge. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll find something worth living for too.

Dr. Serena Merano was a top surgeon in the city. She's brilliant, independent, and engaged to the man she thought was her soulmate. But her life ended on an operating table, betrayed and murdered by the very fiancé she trusted. Pagmulat ng kanyang mga mata, hindi ospital ang bumungad sa kaniya kundi isang marangyang bridal suite, isang wedding gown, at ang isang napakagwapong lalaki. “I can't wait to marry you and say I do, Claudia Venturero… and carry my last name Dela Costa.” Ang ipinagtataka niya ay hindi siya nito nakikilala bilang Serena Merano. Now, she must play along, hiding her past while planning revenge.

I thought I was signing a job contract. I didn’t know I was signing away my freedom. When desperation forces me into the office of billionaire CEO Adrian Blackwood, I accept a six-month personal assistant role that feels too perfect to be safe. The money is good. The rules are strict. And the man watching me across the table feels like he already knows how this ends. Adrian Blackwood is cold, powerful, and terrifyingly composed — a man who doesn’t make mistakes. And he didn’t hire me by accident. As lines blur between professionalism and possession, I begin to realize the contract isn’t the real danger. It’s him. And the truth I was never meant to find — not yet.

Betrayed by the husband and the cousin she once trusted, Dr. Harper Reeves finds herself strapped to an operating table—moments away from being dissected alive. Only then does the truth finally surface: Her marriage was a lie. Her suffering was engineered. And Phoebe—her doctor, her blood, her own cousin—was the one who planned it all. As the scalpel rises to carve her open, Harper does the unthinkable. She fights back. One death. One chance. One whispered wish as her life bleeds away: If I could live again… I wouldn’t endure. I wouldn’t bow. I would destroy anyone who dared to use me. And I would burn their world to the ground.

When Asher Terrell's family crumbled into bankruptcy, I stood steadfast by his side. We lived in a dank basement, where I toiled through three jobs to help clear their crushing debts. He bounced back and proposed, promising me a true home. Three years into our marriage, I discovered the deed to our house bore the name of his first love. "This is what I owe her," he confessed. Swallowing my pain, I nodded and pushed forward a photo from back when we were crammed in that basement, with a whole table piled high with debt notices. "You've paid your debt to her with our house," I said. "But what about the debt you owe me?"

My daughter, Annabelle Turner, was diagnosed with hereditary heart disease. I spent the past five years searching for a compatible heart donor for her. Now, I finally found one. Right before Annabelle is sent into the surgery room, my husband and renowned cardiologist, Gabriel Turner, tearfully makes me a promise. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make sure Annabelle gets a shot at life again." Yet halfway through the surgery, Gabriel suddenly leaves in a hurry without giving any explanation. I stumble into the surgery room and see Annabelle lying on the operating table, covered in blood. Her chest is cut wide open, laid bare for all to see. Tyler Rotwell, Gabriel's assistant, stammers out, "Dr. Turner said… that Anna can still hold on a little longer, but Ms. Byron's son can't. "Dr. Turner took the heart that was meant for Anna and left…" I immediately break down and repeatedly call Gabriel's number, but Gabriel never answers a single call, not even when Anna's blood has completely dried… While settling my daughter's post-mortem affairs, I happen to see a newly posted update on Gabriel's childhood friend, Suzanne Byron's social media. "Turns out it was just a misdiagnosis," was what the caption read. "In that case, let's give this useless little thing to our good boy Oscar as a treat!" The video attached depicts Suzanne's dog Oscar tearing into the heart that was supposed to be donated to Annabelle. As I turn to look at Annabelle's cold body, the last shred of love I have for Gabriel starts crumbling apart. By the time Gabriel finally remembers Annabelle, whom he left on the operating table, only an empty bedroom and an urn containing her ashes would greet him…

Je peux le sentir. Je peux le sentir. Il vient ici tous les soirs mais j'ai peur de lui faire face. Qui est-ce ? Qu'est-ce qu'il veut ? Je le sens approcher de mon lit, je retiens ma respiration et je ferme les yeux. " Je sais, tu sais que je suis là. Je sais que tu es réveillé " a dit sa voix profonde. Je sens son souffle sur mon cou, ça m'a fait frissonner le long de la colonne vertébrale. "Pourquoi as-tu si peur ? Je peux entendre ton cœur battre sauvagement " a-t-il chuchoté près de mon oreille, je sens une main sur le bas du dos où mon débardeur expose la petite peau sur mon dos. Je saute du lit pour lui faire face pour la première fois. Mon visage devient pâle en le voyant. Il est comme avant, mais si différent. C'est lui qui vient tous les soirs ? Mes yeux s'élargissent, non non non... "Toi ! "Je crie. Il rit et avança vers moi, comme un animal vers sa proie. J'ai reculé puis soudainement mon dos frappe ma table d'appoint. Il met les deux mains sur la table, me piégeant entre les deux. Il se met le visage plus près de mon oreille, à l'instant, je ferme les yeux. " Oui, moi " il murmure. Oh oh je suis morte…

Katherine Harrington spent five years loving a man who never chose her. When her husband forces her onto an operating table to give his pregnant mistress a kidney, Katherine finally understands her place in his heart—nowhere. Left bleeding and dying, she begs the Moon Goddess for one last chance. This time, she won’t love him. This time, she will make them regret everything. But fate has other plans . Because the man who saves her isn’t just powerful. He’s the ruthless Lycan Tyrant feared by every pack. And the moment he sees her, his golden eyes darken. “Touch her again,” he says coldly, “and I’ll wipe your entire pack from existence.”

Wendy and James had been married for eight years. One day, Wendy told James that she wanted to have a child with another man, and she wanted to hold a wedding with that man as well. Faced with James's questioning, Wendy didn't beat around the bush. "You're infertile and he's willing to give me a child. We're only having a child and holding a wedding. That's all. We won't be getting a marriage certificate, so he has no effect on your status." James's heart turned cold. He arranged the best wedding for Wendy and the man named "Sean." Wendy was very happy with how obedient James was. When they were saying their vow, James was lying on the operating table all alone and was erasing all his memories of Wendy from his mind.

I stepped closer. Close enough to smell his cologne—cedarwood, leather, and power. My hand moved. Smooth, practiced. The pistol slide from under the apron into my palm. I raised it fast. But before I could pull the trigger— BANG. Not my shot. A scream tore through the restaurant as another man launched himself toward Romano’s table, blade flashing. Another assassin. What the hell— Romano didn’t flinch. He shoved the table forward, knocking the attacker off balance. The blade scraped across wood, not skin. I ducked instinctively as the room erupted into chaos. Gunfire cracked. Glass exploded. People screamed and dove for cover. “Get him out—NOW!” one of the guards barked. I aimed for the second attacker. Didn’t even hesitate. One shot—head. Gone. The guard saw me. Confusion flashed in his eyes. Then rage. I ran. I weaved between overturned chairs, plates, and screaming bodies. The smell of blood was real now, thick in the air. One of the guards grabbed me. I slammed my elbow into his ribs, twisted, and brought the butt of my gun down on his skull. He dropped like a sack of bricks. Out. I had to get out. My boots pounded the floor as I tore through the narrow hallway. But then— “Elisa.” His voice stopped me cold. I turned. Antonio Romano stood in the middle of the carnage, suit untouched, blood spattered behind him like art. His eyes were on me. And he was smiling. It was darker. Slower. Like a hunter seeing something worth chasing. Somehow, he knew who I was. “Interesting,” he said softly, tilting his head. “They sent you.” I didn’t answer. I ran. But that voice followed me. He knew my name. And he let me go. This wasn’t over. It had just begun.