Madness Table

Just for brushing against the hem of Eva Lawson, the heiress’s custom couture gown, Lucy Quinn's mother had her limbs broken, then thrown into the sea to die. The day Lucy dragged the arrogant heiress to court she thought that justice might finally be served. Eva was declared not guilty. Why? Because the defense attorney representing her was none other than Wyatt Grant, founder of the most untouchable law firm in River City, and Lucy Quinn’s husband. When the trial ended, the elegant and aloof man stepped down from the defense table and placed an apology letter in front of Lucy. "Lulu, sign it. You don’t want to be sued for defamation and end up in prison, do you?" His tone was calm and coaxing, but behind the lenses of his gold-rimmed glasses, his gaze was cold as ice. Lucy, tears stubbornly clinging to her eyes, looked up at him and said with a trembling voice, "Why, Wyatt, Why?"

Marie’s mum is dying, and her only bet at survival is an expensive surgery that they could never afford. Driven by desperation, she seeks her step mother’s help, a brothel owner who gives her the condition of sleeping with an old rich client of hers. Disgusted and unable to do so, Marie finds solace in a city bar and unexpectedly finds herself talking to a stranger. Their conversation is easy, and somehow they manage to get drunk and have a steamy night together. When Marie wakes up to leave in shame and quiet, she sees his expensive golden Rolex wristwatch on the side table and makes a quick and risky decision then and there. Eight years later, on her first day of work at Prime Telecoms, she bumps into the stranger from her one-night stand years ago. Not only is he the CEO of the company, he also the father of her daughter, and the man she stole worth hundreds of thousands of dollars from.

She was deceived by people who were wolves in sheep's clothing and ended up dead on the operating table with both her eyes and uterus removed. However, God was kind enough to give her a second chance of life. She was gifted with ethereal beauty and a gaze that could kill. Every gesture and expression she made was as poisonous as opium poppy. Step by step, she laid out her scheme, swore to send people who murdered her down to hell and suffer in eternal doom. At the same time, she took great lengths to insinuate herself in the life of her ex-fiancé after breaking off the engagement in her past life for the douchebag. One day, she approached him with a seductive smile and said, "Mr. Gu, you might view me as wild and promiscuous, but in reality, I am a well-mannered lady. I am also loyal and faithful to my loved one. You will have to see past this facade in order to know the real me."

When I was seven years old, my younger brother went into anaphylactic shock after sneaking a handful of peanuts. Outside the emergency room, my mother slammed my head against the wall over and over, her face twisted with rage. "If you had been watching him like you were supposed to be, this never would have happened! You should be the one with a ruptured stomach, not him!" After that, whenever my brother so much as caught a cold, my mother forced me to eat spoiled leftovers as punishment. I once prepared an elaborate feast. She flipped the entire table and made me crawl on the floor to lick it clean. When I said I wanted to study culinary arts, she poured hot oil over my hands. My father wanted to send me to vocational school to learn a trade, but my mother clutched my brother to her chest and wailed. "She destroyed her brother's health! She owes him a lifetime of service!" When I was fifteen, my brother's gluttony cost my father an important business deal. I took the blame without even being asked, and the furious client forced me to drink more than half a gallon of hard liquor. By the time I was sent home with a bleeding stomach, my father had already scolded my brother. My mother took out her anger on me instead, slapping me so hard my ears rang and my vision went dark at the edges. "You useless thing! You should’ve choked to death at that table! I get sick just looking at you!" I coughed up black blood. From my pocket, I pulled out a piece of sour candy that had gone soft and sticky. It was the only treat my mother had ever given me with a smile, back before my brother's allergic reaction. I put the candy in my mouth and swallowed it down with the taste of stomach acid. The candy was so sour it made my throat burn. Whatever came next, I just hoped I would not have to be my family’s garbage disposal again.

Meet Hera Julius, popularly known as the daughter of the NightWalker pack's traitor, but she's far from your typical damsel in distress. With her beauty and fierce spirit, she's a force to be reckoned with. But when she publicly rejects Alpha Lucien, she sets off a chain of events that will test her strength like never before. Just like other Alphas, Lucien's ego is crushed by Hera's rejection. He vows to make Hera pay, but how far will he go to make her suffer? Fate takes a sharp turn, sparing Hera from the pack's wrath after being accused of a murder she didn't commit. She's handed over to Lycan Damien as his breeder, with a precarious deal on the table threatening her life. Can she convince Damien to break the deal, despite his icy demeanor? What if there's more to the situation than meets the eye, particularly given her position as his breeder?

The day I died was Mommy’s birthday. For once, she left me an unusually large slice of cake. I hovered before it, greedy, leaning in to breathe in its sweetness. But the very next second, she handed the cake to my younger sister, Bella Tesla. “Have some, Bella. Better you than that ungrateful girl!” Then she turned to Daddy, who was filming nearby. “You recorded everything, right? When she returns, make her watch it. Don’t let her say again that we play favorites! “Of all things to learn, she learned how to run away from home! “We spoiled her! If she has any sense, let her never come back!” She sneered as she slammed the table and cursed at me, never noticing the panic on Bella’s face as she held the cake. She also failed to notice Bella’s disheveled hair. She noticed even less the dark stains of blood on her sleeve. Blood that belonged to me.

Without Kaelen's knowledge, I had his little plaything sent out of North America. That same night, he cast a blood-vine curse on my parents, banishing them to the wilds—a wasteland prowled by rogues. He was going to trade my parents' lives for the whereabouts of his plaything. Kaelen pushed a communication crystal in front of me. Inside it, my parents were ensnared by blood-red vines, the thorns digging deep into their flesh. Drops of dark crimson blood fell, one by one, onto the barren earth. A countdown timer pulsed in stark red digits on their chests. 23:59:59 23:59:58 He sat across from me, a black suit tailored to perfection molded to his lean, powerful frame. His long fingers tapped a light, steady rhythm on the solid wood table, as if he were waiting for a trivial business deal to close. "Estelle, you have twenty-four hours." His voice was low and calm, laced with a venomous tenderness. "Tell me, where did you send Cassandra?"

"She’s just a legal vessel for my heir. Once the child is born, I’ll dispose of her." Those ruthless words shattered Serena’s three-year marriage to billionaire, Rafael Navarro. Hidden in the shadows, she watched her cold-hearted husband passionately entangle with his own stepsister, realizing she was merely a biological pawn meant to bear a healthy child to bypass their twisted, genetically doomed bloodline. Disgusted and fiercely protective of the newly discovered life growing inside her, Serena refused to be their sacrificial lamb. On a violent stormy night, she orchestrated her own tragic death, plunging a car off a cliff and burying her naive love at the bottom of the deep abyss. Five years later, the weak, discarded wife is dead. In her place stands Dr. S, a globally feared and untouchable medical genius. Karma strikes with absolute vengeance when the child Rafael ultimately had with his stepsister is born with severe, rotting genetic defects. Desperate and out of options, the once-arrogant billionaire is forced to his knees in public, offering his empire to beg Dr. S for the boy's life, completely oblivious that the ruthless woman looking down at him is the wife he drove to her grave. But Rafael's ultimate descent into madness begins when he crosses paths with Serena’s four-year-old prodigy possessing his exact emerald-green eyes, a son who coldly looks right through him, leaving Rafael to burn in the ashes of his late regret.

“You smell like mine.” Lyra never believed the legends about Lycans. They said those monstrous, feral creatures with strength far beyond wolves. But when she tries to save a child from a rogue attack, her blood spills on sacred soil… and her hidden bloodline awakens. Miles away, Ares Nightbane, the terrifying Lycan King, turns feral when her scent hits him like a drug. Her pain drags him across kingdoms in minutes. Her fear breaks what little sanity he has left. He finds her bleeding. Shaking. Dying. And the moment his eyes meet hers, the ruthless king loses absolute control. He pins her to the ground with a growl, breath hot on her throat. Not to kill her. Not to save her. But because the bond, the one he swore to destroy has chosen her. “Run if you want,” Ares snarls, lips brushing her ear. “I’ll chase. I’ll devour. I’ll claim every inch of you until the moon rises in your eyes. You are mine, little wolf. Mine to protect. Mine to ruin.” Lyra is poor, brave, and stubborn enough to defy a king. But resisting the Lycan who can cross kingdoms in minutes? The king whose madness is soothed only by her scent? The king who would tear apart the world to keep her? She might survive the monsters outside the palace but surviving the one obsessed with her? That may be impossible.

My sister was the golden child, the pride of our family, but she had a rare blood disorder that required treatments costing thousands every month. To keep her alive, I became her personal blood donor, working nonstop to pay for her care and delivering food all day and night. But one day, she nearly died from hemorrhaging after trying to abort a pregnancy. That’s when I learned the child she was carrying belonged to my boyfriend. When I confronted him, he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he dragged me to the operating table himself. “You were born to be her blood bank. Dying for her? It’s the best thing you’ll ever do.” I was left there, bleeding out, my life slipping away with every drop. But as death closed in, something changed. The people who once hoped I’d disappear—the ones who used me, betrayed me—they all began to unravel, losing their insanity.