She Wasn't My Daughter

My adopted daughter, Phoebe Marsh, possessed an evil ability. Whenever she got hurt, the pain would also be inflicted directly on my biological daughter, Maisie Shaw. She deliberately hurt herself, covering her body with wounds and bruises. Then, she would turn around with cold eyes, watching Maisie writhe on the floor in agony until she passed out from the pain. With no medical solution available, I broke down and held Maisie close, begging my husband, Brandon Shaw, to send Phoebe away. However, he would erupt in fury. "It's obviously Maisie who's been faking illness for attention, and you're making up this ridiculous story to get rid of Phoebe. She's just a fragile, helpless child. How can you be so vicious?" After that, Phoebe escalated her self-harm even more viciously. Meanwhile, Maisie spent every day curled up in the corner of her bed, refusing to let anyone touch her. On Maisie's birthday, Phoebe threw herself from the fifth floor. Just as Maisie was blowing out her candles and making a wish, she suddenly began bleeding from all her facial orifices, and she died instantly. Yet, Phoebe only suffered minor scrapes. I died from overwhelming grief shortly after. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to Phoebe's first day in our home. Maisie was playing with her Legos when she suddenly clutched her ankle and started crying. This time, I grabbed the broom from behind the door and swung it toward Maisie, shouting, "I'll beat you up for faking illness and seeking attention!"

In my last life, my sister and I got adopted into two very different worlds. My mom? The "cool" type. Let me perm my hair in elementary school, signed off on a nose job in middle school, and shoved me toward one of Northport's richest heirs right after college. Ella's mom? Hardcore strict. Pulled her out of a fling with some delinquent and married her off to a quiet professor with a just-decent paycheck. Ella hated it. Wanted my life so bad. So when I ended up in the hospital pregnant, she used her shiny doctor title to kill me—and my baby. Then boom—I woke up, and we were back to adoption day. This time, she dove for the mom she thought handed me the dream. What she didn't know? That "cool mom" she worshipped was straight-up a monster.

My girlfriend had one of those guy friends she insisted was basically family. On a group hike, he knew I had diabetes and couldn't eat anything high in sugar, but he still coaxed me into eating a high-sugar energy bar, and my blood sugar spiked almost instantly. When I pulled out my insulin to inject, panic shot through me. My medication had been switched out for saline. I collapsed to the ground, shaking and retching. The fake nice-guy just looked down at me with a smug twist of his mouth. "Seriously, man? You're being dramatic. It's just a little sugar. Good thing I told Selene to swap your meds, or we'd never know how far you'd go to fake it. With a body this weak, how are you supposed to protect Selene?" I turned to my girlfriend, my breathing already turning shallow. "Selene, give me my insulin. If I don't inject it right now, I'm going to die." She frowned as if I were the one being unreasonable. "You're overacting. I've never heard of someone dying from a bit of sugar. Adrian's right. You're always looking for attention. Everyone finally got together today, and you're here ruining it." I felt everything inside me go cold. I didn't even bother arguing anymore. I grabbed my phone with shaking hands and rasped, "Mom, your son's about to get bullied to death. Are you going to step in or not?"

"When Violet's past and present collide, she discovers her mate is the one person she never expected - her mother's former lover, Alpha Ares. But their love is threatened by a dark history: Ares once sought to sacrifice Violet to save himself, and Alpha Damien, who's always wanted her dead, will stop at nothing to eliminate her. She's a threat to his power, and he'll do anything to keep his secrets buried. Can Violet forgive Ares' past betrayal and trust him to protect her from those who seek to destroy her, or will the truth tear them apart forever?"

After my parents dead, I was taken in by one of his closest friends—the Draycotts. Kaelen Draycott, their only son, treated me like I was family. And I, stupidly, fell for him. When I confessed, he called me sick. Evil. Disgusting. From that day on, he made my life hell. He brought women home, loud enough for me to hear everything. Just to remind me where I stood. When it came down to it, he saved his fiancée. Left me to be shot, mocked, and forgotten. I knew what he was capable of. So this time, I made the choice. I’m leaving. And knowing how much he hates me— Let my farewell be the best wedding gift he’ll ever get.

My daughter was being slandered at the werewolf aristocratic high school. The other party threatens my daughter, saying that her father, one of the most powerful Alphas in the territory, will soon have my daughter kicked out of school. But the father they called for backup turned out to be my mate, Derek. When I saw Emma, her hair was a mess, her clothes disheveled and torn, with tear stains still fresh on her face. My heart ached. Rage surged through me. Across from us stood a glamorous she-wolf, her chin lifted high with arrogance. "So what if my daughter slandered yours? Look at what you're wearing. You're nothing but poor Omega wolves." The girl who had spread rumors about my daughter was equally brazen. "My father is a major shareholder of this academy. If you dare defy me, I can have trash like you expelled in minutes!" But the father who arrived in a luxury SUV to back them up, dressed in an expensive tailored suit—wasn't that my mate Derek? When Derek saw Emma and me, he frowned, clearly surprised. I let out a cold laugh. "Derek, so you have another family and another daughter now?"

Ten years ago, I lost my sight saving Ivan Hardman. Now, a decade later, Ivan lets his mistress live under the same roof as me. Every night, he coaxes me to sleep in the first half, only to spend the rest tangled up with her. Even my son secretly calls her "Mom." What they don't know is, I've regained my sight. And I'm planning my escape.

“It’s payback time. Now that your sister needs to study abroad, you have to help the family. Marry Mr. Morrison.” The words were nonchalantly spoken while I was being thrown into a room. What doubles the pain is to hear these come from my own father, the person whom I never imagined slapping me with the truth that I am as valuable as an economic insurance. I am an investment daughter; my parents have groomed me to be their insurance in the future. I am their economic plan B if things go wrong… Should I obey or run? This is my life, and I have control over it!

"You know, red." He warned biting my lower lip. "I think we should try again with the spanking. I could make it more alluring. Make you love it." I felt my lower regions throb as his lips caressed my neck. His hands trailed down my body and found its way under my silky black nightdress. Tugging at the hem of my thong he then slipped in a finger and ran it up and down my hot wet slit ❦ The daughter of a Russian mob leader seems to catch the eye of his father's enemy. Will the Italian Don use The Russian Don's daughter as his plan to destroy his rival and fall in love with her or the father finds out himself and kills them both?

I never believed in second chances. Not after Cynthia. She was my confidant… until death tore her from me and left this mansion echoing with ghosts. Inilibing ko na rin ang puso ko kasabay ng pakamatay ni Cynthia . She was my wife. My peace. My mistake. Then her daughter moved in. Liza. The forbidden reminder of everything I shouldn’t want—young, alive, reckless in ways her mother never was. She looks at me like she sees through the monster I’ve become. Sa tuwing ngingiti siya,  the ache in my chest returns—violent, dangerous, hungry. Every brush of her skin ignites something I can’t bury anymore. I tell myself it’s guilt. I tell myself I’m just protecting her. Pero ang totoo? I want her. Hindi bilang stepdaughter. Not as Cynthia’s child. I want her as mine—completely, ruinously, irredeemably mine. They’ll call me a sinner. A man who crossed the line. Ngunit sa tuwing tinitingnan ako ni Liza, trembling, wanting... I knew I’d already crossed it. I tell myself I’m protecting her, but each night, the lie weakens. Because when she looks at me, it isn’t fear I see—it’s want. And God help me... I want her too. This isn’t love. It’s a beautiful disaster. And I’d burn the world just to feel her breathe my name again.