Left For Dead 2 Game Of The Year Novels & Stories

At her husband's funeral, Evangeline Thorn should be grieving. Instead, she's plotting murder. Daniel Harrow died in a building collapse that killed seventeen workers—a collapse Evangeline believes was caused by his older brother's criminal negligence. Nathaniel Harrow is everything Daniel wasn't: ruthless, powerful, and dangerously magnetic. He built a billion-dollar empire on corruption, and Evangeline is certain he killed his own brother to secure control of the family fortune. She should hate him. She does hate him. So why does she show up at his penthouse the night of the funeral? What begins as a violent seduction becomes a twisted game of psychological warfare. Evangeline will gather evidence, destroy Nathaniel's empire, and make him pay for every life he's taken. But Nathaniel has been obsessed with her since the day she married his brother—and he's been waiting for her to make the first move. As they circle each other like predators, secrets unravel: the surveillance he's kept on her for years, the pregnancy that could belong to either brother, the betrayals that run deeper than murder. In this deadly game of revenge and obsession, the only question is: who will destroy whom first? Or will they destroy each other?

At the Costa family's annual capo banquet, Marco Costa declared the family would extend protection to one woman only: Rosa Frost, his childhood sweetheart, newly divorced and newly returned to the family fold. One by one, the other women slipped away into the night with their money, their dignity, and fresh protectors already lined up. I, Viola Rossi, once his Donna, was severed from the Costa family entirely, with nowhere left to go. Twenty-one years prior, The System ripped me into this life with a brutal mandate: make one of four made men fall irrevocably in love with me, and I'd earn my way back to my real life with a healthy body. I failed. Every single one of them chose Rosa. The system's final mercy: die here, go home. I stood in a rotting Brooklyn dock warehouse, gun in hand, and closed my eyes. Right as darkness closed in, a raw, raging scream of my name tore through the silence, like the man shouting would burn the whole world apart to reach me.

Freya loved the wrong Alpha for eight years. She gave him her body, her loyalty, her soul—and in return, he kissed her with someone else's name. When she finally walked away, she believed she'd found peace—and love—in Silvano, the Alpha who saved her. But years later, on her birthday, silence greeted her again. “Bella,” she whispered to her daughter, “did you forget Mommy’s birthday?” “Not now, Mommy. I'm making a gift for Aunt Aurora. Daddy helped.” The name landed like a wound reopening. Freya once survived being ‘the other woman’. Now, fate flipped the roles—and the silence, late-night absences, and missed calls feel all too familiar. As betrayal knocks again, she must choose: bury herself in heartbreak once more—or rise, not for love, but for herself. When even your mate forgets your worth, how many times must you walk away before you stop coming back? This time—maybe for the last time—she won’t look back.

Five years ago, Esther Quill, who was six months pregnant, was sent to prison by her husband, Bradley Warner, himself.Five years later, Esther went to Bradley with a DNA paternity test paper in her hand and tearfully questioned, "Bradley Warner, how does it feel to kill your flesh and blood with your own hands!?"Ten years of secret love in exchange for five years of imprisonment; ten months of pregnancy in exchange for five years of separation from her flesh and blood.After Esther redeemed her sin with her life, Bradley turned white overnight and offered a sky-high reward, desperately searching for his wife and vowing to find her even if he had to overturn the world.The world thought that Bradley loved Esther to death... Only Esther knew that the man had no heart.It was until Esther appeared on the news with her two daughters and son one day.Bradley looked at the woman he had been yearning for and apologized, "Sweetheart, I was wrong!"The three little ones put themselves in front of Esther."Mr. Warner, our mommy is single, and there are too many people who want to be our daddy. Please go to the end of the line!”

My Alpha mate Kieran ordered our eight-year-old son to burn my mother alive because his Omega assistant accused me of killing her pet dog out of spite. Kieran's eyes were filled with impatience and disgust. "You're supposed to be our pack's respected Luna. Why would you target an innocent Omega? Whatever harm her pet suffered, your mother will endure the same. Your mother is paying the price for your jealousy!" I fell to my knees, begging Kieran to spare my mother. But he commanded our seven-year-old son Owen to light the fire himself. My son didn't hesitate for a second as he threw the torch into the pile of wood. "That's what you get for always going against Aunt Sera!" I screamed and cried, desperately begging them to help me put out the flames. "Please, I'm begging you, take my mother to the healing center..." "Enough, Aria. Your mother is still lying in the hospital bed. That's just a training dummy. Stop putting on this pathetic act." After saying that, father and son walked away without looking back. They didn't know that it really was my mother burning in those flames. But when I finally gave up on them and left, why did they both come crawling back, begging me to return?

My mother was the president of a listed corporation, she was both rich and powerful. More importantly, she loved me more than anything in the world. Meanwhile, my father was a man who cheated on her. When he found out his mistress was pregnant with a girl, he beat her until she miscarried and ended up in prison. So when the judge publicly asked me to choose between my mother and my father, everyone assumed the custody battle was just a formality. That was until I walked past my mother's trembling, outstretched hand and firmly chose my father instead. Everyone was shocked into speechlessness. In my previous life, I had chosen my mother, the one who spoiled me rotten. She was the type to buy the whole bakery just because I casually mentioned I wanted their cake. When I complained it was too sunny, she immediately arranged for four helicopters to put up a sunshade cloth and shade me. She even deposited a hundred thousand dollars on my school meal card because she was worried I wasn't eating well. Even though she spoiled me like a true princess and paved the way for me through life, I don't want anything to do with her in this life.

“Get away from me,” I hissed, gripping the knife tighter. His gaze flicked down to the blade, then back to me, a slow, amused smile curving his lips. “A knife?” he said softly, tilting his head. “Are you perhaps flirting with me?” I gritted my teeth. The asshole was enjoying this — every fucking second of it. ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ When Leah got home early from work, she was hoping for one thing — to fix what was left of her relationship with Daniel. Instead, she walked in on him in the arms of another woman. Heartbroken and humiliated, she stormed out, blind with tears… and straight into the path of an oncoming car. But death wasn’t the end for Leah. No! Death was actually the beginning.

I got back from a six month work trip and found my pet hamster dead. I couldn't just bury it. I wanted to preserve it, keep it whole. But when I carefully opened it up, I went still. Its lungs were pitch black. That kind of damage couldn't happen fast. It meant months of breathing toxic smoke. But my husband and I never smoked. So who'd been living in my house while I was gone?

That night, I got off work early and brought home some late-night snacks. When I opened the door, I saw a pair of high heels carelessly tossed in the entryway and Gregory’s blazer thrown over the couch. His heavy breathing and the woman’s moans could be heard through the gap between the door and its frame. I was all too familiar with this sight. This time, I did not storm out like I used to. Instead, I sat quietly at the dining table and finished my cold pizza.

In the third year after my death, my mother finally remembered me. But it wasn't out of longing—it was because my younger sister's leukemia had relapsed, and she urgently needed a bone marrow transplant. Clutching a donation agreement, my mother made her way to the basement I once lived in. She kicked open the door and was met with a floor slick with blood and scattered medicine bottles. "Cassidy, what game are you playing this time? Do you really think a self-inflicted act of suffering could fool me? Why are you so selfish? Why won't you save your own sister?" Her voice roared with anger, echoing through the space. From the crowd that had gathered to watch, a ragged little boy stepped forward. "Are you talking about Cassidy Porter? She… she died three years ago of organ failure… she vomited so much blood…"