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Age Gap Romance/Arranged Marriage/Strong Heroine/Found Family/Revenge/Slow Burn Romance Nineteen-year-old Clarice Sullivan was forced by her scumbag father to marry Theodore Grant, a man of thirty-one. On their wedding night, Theodore, transformed into a ravenous wolf, left her utterly exhausted. "I thought you said you couldn't?" she muttered, rubbing her aching lower back. "Aren't men in their thirties supposed to know some restraint?" Theodore, irritated, pinned her down again. "Round two!" he growled. After marriage, Theodore switched into full protective-and-doting-husband mode. "Darling, my worthless father is trying to hit me again!" "Just wait," Theodore snapped, his temper flaring. He promptly dismantled the entire Sullivan family. "Darling, she drugged me—tried to hand me over to another man!" Clarice pointed accusingly at her wicked half-sister. Theodore's fury erupted. He slapped the woman hard across the face and ensured her reputation was ruined beyond repair. With Theodore's unwavering devotion backing her, Clarice repaid every slight and cruelty a thousandfold. When others criticized her for being spoiled, Theodore scoffed, "I'm the one who spoiled her—got a problem with that?"

Pediatrician Clara Whitman accidentally time-slips to the late seventies. The moment she opens her eyes, she discovers she's been sold at a high price by her heartless uncle's family to be the wife of a village idiot. Meanwhile, their own daughter—Lila Whitman—has stolen her marriage certificate and is living the good life as the bride of a powerful military dynasty. Reborn with full memory of the plot, Clara Whitman tears up the script—she's done playing along! A handful of croton seeds later, her uncle's household is writhing on the latrine; she bolts from the village and heads straight for Beijing to reclaim the engagement herself. But nothing goes as planned: the groom-to-be rejects her on the spot. In a twist of fate she ends up marrying the man's elder brother—nine years her senior, the unattainable "high-altitude flower" William Hayes. Legend says Colonel Hayes has no interest in women and is doomed to leave no heir; yet every night Clara Whitman is coaxed until she sobs and begs for mercy, and after the wedding every pregnancy comes in multiples. When the man seduces her again with "just one more time," Clara Whitman wants to cry: Who said he didn't like women? Total lie! William Hayes, the youngest and most brilliant officer in the regiment, is steady, handsome, his future limitless. Rumor claims he cares for no woman, having pledged his youth to the nation—breaking countless girls' hearts. Then one day word spreads: the colonel has taken leave to honor a seventeen-year-old engagement and married a country girl. Everyone laments: that bumpkin is wasting Chief Hayes! Until the day the cold-faced "King of Hell" William Hayes walks in with a stunning, dewy-eyed lady doctor on his arm—and the room falls silent. "That's no bumpkin!" the crowd gasps. "She's a straight-up goddess!"

On their wedding anniversary night, her husband rushed off after a call from his sister-in-law. She waited alone until late, only to receive a photo of him tenderly caring for his nephew in the hospital, along with a boastful text from the sister-in-law: "He even flew abroad specifically to be with me when I gave birth." Heartbroken, she handed him the divorce papers. Her husband dismissed it as her just being unreasonable. The cruel irony deepened when, after being sidelined by her own family, she stumbled upon his three-year-old nephew, left alone in a bar by his mother. Her kindness in bringing the child back to his grandparents' home was repaid with the boy's tearful accusation: "Auntie pinched me." It seemed the whole world had taken the side of that mother and child. Her parents scolded her for being difficult, and her husband blamed her for making a fuss. Only when all favor and understanding flowed toward others did she realize, with painful clarity, that she had become the unnecessary one in this entire story.

Do you believe in Myths? Just when she thinks it can't get any worse, it does. Lucy lost everything four years ago in a rogue attack. She's been abused, starved, rejected, and broken. As her eighteenth birthday approaches, strange things start to happen, things that only happen once every century. She finds friendship in the most unlikely place and escapes to find her true self with the help of the most dangerous Alpha. Warning: This werewolf trilogy is not intended for anyone under the age of 18 or anyone who doesn't enjoy a good spanking. It will take you on adventures around the world, make you laugh, fall in love, crush your heart and possibly leave you drooling.

[Reborn-sweet-doting + long-planned obsession + psycho second-male grovels at the crematorium + Dominic Ashford takes the throne] In her last life, Evangeline Sterling mistakenly believed that Dominic Ashford, who spoiled and loved her, was in a life-or-death romance with her sister. Desperate to escape him, she married the penniless look-alike Theodore Yale—and ended up murdered by Dominic’s enemies. Reborn, she slowly uncovers the truth: Dominic had been hopelessly in love with her all along, her sister is still alive, and in that previous life the two of them had gone on a blood-soaked rampage through the capital just to guard her grave forever. She swears that this time she’ll shower Dominic and her sister with every heaven has to offer—she’ll never squander their love again. But Theodore Yale suddenly flips, screaming that he’s crazy for her. Dominic yanks her into his arms. “You’re not allowed to look at him again.” Theodore’s eyes split wide as he snarls at the domineering Dominic: “She’s only using you to get back at me! You’re nothing but her weapon!” Dominic’s cold eyes narrow: Be her weapon? Sounds like a dream come true. That night, Dominic’s hands span her waist, voice husky: “If you’re going to use me, you use me for life—understood?” “Y-yes…” Evangeline trembles, already lost to time and place.

Adeline Hayes gave everything to her husband, Adrian Carter, and their beloved daughter, Zora. Her youth. Her dreams. Her entire being. But to them? She was nothing more than a convenient maid—summoned when needed, dismissed when not. The final straw came when Zora said the words that shattered Adeline's heart: "Daddy, divorce mom! I want Aunt Beth to be my new mommy." That night, Adeline walked out. They were sure she'd come crawling back within a week. She never did. Instead, Adeline reclaimed who she was: ★ Medical Prodigy — The genius who revolutionized pharmaceutical research before she turned twenty-five. ★ Underground Racing Legend — The ghost rider who's never lost a single midnight circuit. ★ Billion-Dollar Investor — The silent hand that moves markets and disappears without a trace. She buried all of it. Burned her trophies. Archived her patents. For him. For their daughter. And now? Now she's done being invisible. * "I gave you every chance," Adeline said coldly, tapping the finalized divorce papers as Adrian's face crumbled before her. "You chose to waste every single one." She leaned in, just close enough for him to feel the heat of her contempt. "Now get the hell out of my world."

Serena Whitmore had spent half her previous life married to her childhood-officer sweetheart, Benjamin Sinclair, toiling and sacrificing for fifty long years—only to be repaid with a fatal betrayal. On his deathbed, Benjamin told her the cold truth, every word a dagger: “These fifty years? Consider them my repayment.” Only then did she realize the lie: her so-called failure at the college-entrance exam had been a fraud; her admission letter had been stolen and given to his white-moonlight. Even crueler, the child she had poured her heart into raising was their secret love-child. In despair, Serena dragged the white-moonlight down with her, dying full of hate. Reborn at the very start of the tragedy, Serena shed her meekness; only ruthlessness remained in her eyes. She reclaimed the jade pendant stolen by the white-moonlight, stormed the scumbag’s house to take back her dowry, and publicly broke the engagement—never to repeat her past. The village’s most feared troublemaker, Christopher Palmer, swaggering, brawling, and brutal, was the very “good-for-nothing” she once despised. Yet only Serena knew that, in her last life, when she had nowhere to turn and everyone abandoned her, this seemingly violent man had silently reached out—ultimately paying with his own life to help her. This time, Serena resolved to rewrite his short-lived fate. But no amount of calculation prepared her for one miscalculation: she would end up entangled with him. The roguish, untamed man fell for her at first sight and turned into a devoted, over-the-top wife-protector, shielding her so tightly no harm could touch her. The scumbag couldn’t accept it and came sneering: “Serena Whitmore, without me you’re stuck settling for trash like him?” Christopher’s long arm swept Serena into a possessive embrace; with his other hand he slapped the officer’s commission across the scumbag’s face, flashed a wicked grin, and drawled, arrogant yet tender, “Sorry, pal—I’m your commanding officer, and the only man she’ll ever have in this lifetime.”

Seven years ago, she was set up and spent one reckless night with a stranger; dazed by desire, she fled at dawn Seven years on, she storms back with her little darlings in tow—only to discover the “passer-by” she once slept with is now the all-powerful titan of the capital The kids tail the big boss every day until Harrison Slater finally corrals them inside his mansion Sienna Shaw races over, only to be pinned against the wall by Harrison Slater “You stole something of mine—time to return it.” “What proof do you have?” “Let me help you remember…” From the corner to the bedroom, one “reminder” after another, until Sienna Shaw’s last defense crumbles “Fine—we split the kids fifty-fifty… please, just let me go…” “You and the children—you're all mine.”

In her last life, Chloe Morrison had been so dazzled by a scumbag educated-youth that she’d turned into a hopeless love-struck fool She handed him her university slot, her grain coupons, her meat rations, her grandma’s heirloom jade pendant—even snatched her little nephew’s candy to coax him The moment the scumbag returned to the city, he vanished without a trace, and she became the laughingstock of the whole village Just then, officer Isaac Hartwell came home on leave and asked for her hand. She married him, but her heart was full of disdain—for his roughness, his blunt manners, his utter lack of romance—and she despised him for five long years Then came the landslide. The coarse man she’d spent half her life despising shielded her with his own body and was swallowed whole For the decades that followed, remorse and agony gnawed at her; on her deathbed she had only one thought: If there is a next life, I will give everything to love him properly Reborn in an instant, Chloe Morrison’s eyes brimmed with tears and not a shred of confusion remained She grabbed a butcher’s cleaver, snatched the jade pendant back from the scumbag on the spot, and—surprise—the pendant’s hidden space awakened With one kick she sent the heartless man flying, then spun around and threw herself at the rugged officer Isaac Hartwell, marrying him without hesitation, packing her bags to follow him to the army base When the news reached the compound, it exploded like a bomb: “Did you hear? Captain Hartwell married the butcher’s daughter—built like an ox and fierce as hell!” But the very next day, when Isaac Hartwell strode in with fair, delicate, soft-as-cotton Chloe Morrison on his back, every jaw hit the ground This wasn’t some terrifying butcher’s daughter—she was a fragile little beauty who looked like she’d shatter at a touch The crowd’s contempt had barely formed when, two days later, they watched Chloe Morrison dash across the compound, butcher’s cleaver in hand, ready to defend her husband—whereupon the entire yard quivered in fear “She’s faking it! All an act!” Yet Isaac Hartwell wore a dead-serious, wife-protecting expression and declared to one and all: “My wife is delicate, frail, and utterly helpless—none of you are allowed to bully her.” Compound residents: …We’d sooner believe the devil himself.

Pharmaceutical researcher Tiffany Whitmore wakes up as the cannon-fodder foil to her cousin? Original host married a “phoenix man,” poured in everything, and suffered; cousin snagged a commander husband and bathed in luxury! Just as she’s ready to flip the script, the cousin—armed with prophetic dreams—throws a tantrum demanding they swap grooms? Tiffany Whitmore slaps the table and laughs herself silly: “This heaven-sent fortune is mine!” Commander father-in-law on death’s door? She keeps him alive with pure pharmaceutical know-how! Borderlands short on supplies? Her spirit-spring space has more than enough! Ice-cold officer husband? When the craving hits, she bites—then bolts! The cousin who stole the groom is left dumbstruck: The “phoenix man” she snatched turns out to be a deadbeat, becomes the commander’s wife—and the richest woman to boot! Even wilder: the once frosty officer morphs into Tiffany Whitmore’s devoted lapdog?

e Weston never meant to get married. She just wanted to escape trouble, but somehow, she ends up signing a marriage certificate with Knox Mathford, the reckless billionaire who just got ditched at the marriage bureau. For Knox, she was supposed to be a stand-in wife for two days. Quick, easy, done. Except his crafty grandfather has other plans. Eighteen months in marriage or no inheritance. Now Isolde, a wild, street-smart girl from the slums, is stuck playing the role of Mrs. Mathford in a world of riches, designer dinners, and way too many rules. Knox, on the other hand, has to survive Isolde’s ghetto charm, her sharp tongue, and her complete refusal to behave like a proper wife. When the eighteen months are finally up, Isolde celebrates her freedom, but months later, she discovers the divorce papers were never signed. She’s still his wife, and he isn't ready to let her go. To top it all off, his glamorous ex is back, ready to tie the knot with him, but with secrets sharp enough to wreck everything he had built. And just when Isolde thinks it can’t get worse, she finds out Knox was indirectly involved in the very incident that shoved her into slum life years ago. Now will she join forces with his ex, to burn his empire to the ground? Will she nuture the growing feelings between them? Or walk away in search of a new life? What started as a fake marriage for convenience is about to turn into the wildest love/hate game of their lives.

After marrying David Reynolds, Charlotte Parker spent over a decade dutifully caring for her bedridden mother-in-law. She could never bring herself to splurge on expensive clothes, yet one day, she caught sight of her husband parading around town with his mistress—dressed head-to-toe in Chanel, toting a six-figure Hermès crocodile bag. And that wasn't all. There was also a love child, around ten years old. The boy obediently called her mother-in-law "Grandma," and the old woman immediately declared that the family fortune would one day be his. Her husband, ever the generous spender, announced plans to upgrade his mistress and their illegitimate son to a luxury duplex—worth a cool five million. Meanwhile, Charlotte was still stuck in the shabby, decades-old apartment allocated by her huaband workplace back in the day. The betrayal was the wake-up call she needed. She realized the first half of her life had been wasted on the wrong people. From now on, she would live for herself—free and unshackled. She wanted a divorce. Her husband sneered, "All you're good for is cooking and cleaning. You wouldn't survive without me." Her mother-in-law scoffed, "Women of our generation endure worse. Who hasn't suffered a little? Divorcing at your age—how disgraceful!" Relatives chimed in, "You've put up with it this long. What's another twenty or thirty years? Just bear with it a little longer." Bear with it? She had endured enough for a lifetime. No more! … Everyone expected the middle-aged divorce to become a pitiful, lonely joke. But to their shock, Charlotte not only re-entered the workforce—she thrived, climbing the career ladder with unstoppable momentum. And love? A second chance came knocking. Wait—what? The man she was dating, the one she might remarry… was actually the wealthiest tycoon in the capital? Her ex-husband's family was drowning in regret, begging her with tears to take them back. A squad of imposing bodyguards blocked their path. "Sorry," they said coolly. "Our lady says she doesn't know any poor relatives."

The moment she opened her eyes, Beverly Caldwell found herself transmigrated into a period novel! And not just any character—she had become the doomed cannon fodder ex-girlfriend, the one who was swindled of her love and fortune by the male lead before meeting a tragic end in the countryside. Beverly smirked coldly: Sorry, not sorry. With her post-apocalyptic superpowers and a spatial dimension at her disposal, she wasn' t about to play along with this clichéd drama. Classmates trying to force her into marriage? Anonymous tip-off letter already in the mail! Relatives eyeing her family's wealth? One swift motion, and every last penny vanished into her space—leaving them with nothing but dust. Scumbag ex crawling back? She'd drain his bank accounts dry before skipping town! Packing her bags, she headed to the countryside to farm, heal, and search for her missing father. With her wood-based abilities, she revitalized barren fields and brought prosperity to the villagers—life was sweet! And oh, she just happened to pick up a stone-faced military officer along the way, who promptly spoiled her rotten, treating her like the most precious treasure in his life. When the original male lead came crawling back, begging for forgiveness? Her man tightened his military coat around her, shielding her behind him with a growl: "She's my wife now. Get lost—don't dirty her eyes."

Emily Foster had been cold-shouldered and abused under her own roof—until Mrs. Foster dropped the bomb: she was the swapped fake heiress, and the real one was coming home. Instead of tears, Emily Foster felt a weight slide off her shoulders: this train-wreck of a family? She'd been dying to quit it. The moment her past-life memories and pocket-dimension cheat awakened, she swept every last valuable out of the Foster house—jewelry, deeds, antique vases, gone—leaving only junk behind. One anonymous tip-off letter later, she slung her knapsack, sauntered off to the countryside, and let the Fosters choke on the mess. She'd planned to treat the village stint as a brief layover—then ran straight into her biological kin. Expecting hardship, she was pampered like a priceless pearl instead; instant group-pet mode activated. On a mission nearby, officer Alexander Andrews took one look and was a goner: A dimpled, soft-looking beauty who could out-arm-wrestle the squad and out-sass his commander— the contrast detonated his heartbeat. First glance: hooked. Second glance: sunk. Third glance: already drafting battle plans to carry her home. Alexander Andrews: "You can kidnap me, or I can kidnap you—my whole pack's ready to help either way!"

"Not good. I'll give you a free welcome. I'll give you a free welcome. I'll give you a free welcome. I'll give you a free welcome. I'll give you a free welcome. I'll give you a free welcome. I'll give you a free welcome. I'll give you a free welcome. I'll give you a free welcome. I'll give you a free welcome. I'll give you a free welcome. I'll give you a free welcome. I'll give you a free welcome. I'll give you a free welcome. I'll give you a free welcome. I'll give you a free welcome. I'll give you a free welcome. I'll give you a free welcome."

Fiona Benton transmigrated from the apocalypse into the body of a capitalist heiress in the 1960s. Without hesitation, she faked an illness to relinquish her family's leadership, pocketed her inheritance, and signed up for rural labor. She set her sights on the "unmarriageable" officer in the production brigade—Liam Henderson. The man was taciturn and rugged, with a scar cutting across his brow, yet his gaze when looking at her was unfathomably deep. After marriage, Liam Henderson became locally infamous as a "henpecked husband": When his buddies offered him a cigarette, he waved them off. "Wife won't allow it." When comrades asked to borrow money, he shook his head. "Gotta file a request first." Then, when troublemakers came knocking, Fiona Benton hoisted a hundred-pound millstone with one hand. Amid the stunned silence, Liam calmly took the millstone from her and turned a cold glare on the crowd: "My wife's hands are delicate. You can't afford the medical bills if she hurts them." After moving to the military base, the song-and-dance troupe girls gossiped about this "capitalist miss"—until they saw her punch through a sandbag during morning drills and nail every shot at the shooting range. That night, Fiona cheerfully handed Liam a steel spoon bent out of shape: "Oops, I accidentally twisted it again." Without batting an eye, Liam took it and smirked at his dumbfounded comrades: "My wife. Adorable, right?"

"My sister threatens to take my mate. And I let her keep him." Born without a wolf, Seraphina is the disgrace of her pack—until a drunken night leaves her pregnant and married to Kieran, the ruthless Alpha who never wanted her. But their decade-long marriage was no fairytale. For ten years, she endured the humiliation: No Luna title. No mating mark. Just cold sheets and colder stares. When her perfect sister returned, Kieran filed for divorce the same night. And her family was happy to see her marriage broken. Seraphina didn't fight but left silently. However, when danger struck, shocking truths emerged: ☽ That night wasn't an accident ☽ Her "defect" is actually a rare gift ☽ And now every Alpha—including her ex-husband—will fight to claim her Too bad she's done being owned. *** Kieran's growl vibrated through my bones as he pinned me against the wall. The heat of him seared through layers of fabric. "You think leaving is that easy, Seraphina?" His teeth grazed the unmarked skin of my throat. "You. Are. Mine." A hot palm slid up my thigh. "No one else will ever touch you." "You had ten years to claim me, Alpha." I bared my teeth in a smile. "Funny how you only remember I'm yours... when I'm walking away."

Three years ago, Selena Harper picked up a drunken man. And then, one thing led to another—straight to bed. Between the sheets, they were the perfect match. But outside, she remained a secret, hidden from the world. The man wielded immense power, untouchable and arrogant, refusing to claim her openly. "Fine. If you won't have me, plenty of others would beg to marry me!" She walked away, choosing to wed another. Yet the man who once stood so high and mighty came to her with reddened eyes, blocking her path, kneeling in desperation— "Qingqing, I was wrong..." "I'll send the betrothal gifts immediately—just don't leave me!"

"My academically challenged wife turned out to be the top scorer on the college entrance exams?" "My supposedly useless wife turned out to paint with her left hand and play the piano with her right?" "My delicate and gentle wife turned out to be an undefeated boxing champion?" "My spendthrift wife turned out to be the mysterious behind-the-scenes boss of a secret conglomerate?" Everyone: "Young Master Kingston, are you blind? How could you divorce such an all-rounder queen?" For a brief moment, Young Master Kingston enjoyed the thrill of divorce, only to find himself plunged into the fiery pits of pursuing his wife again. Her striking face was icy, "Get lost!" Until... At a certain gala one evening. The man smirked devilishly, "Where do you think you're running off to this time?"

Adolf Hunt, who had dominated the underground world overseas, obeyed his master's arrangement and returned for an arranged marriage. He thought he would be despised, but unexpectedly, his wife adored him to the skies. Right after getting married, the two young individuals, who had never been in romantic relationships before, worked hard to get along, stayed honest with each other, and tried to understand and accept one another. A few months post-marriage: Adolf Hunt: "I suspect my wife has a secret identity." Charlotte Quinn: "Investigate this thoroughly for me. There's no way my husband is this simple."