Best Mystery Novels

Allyson was the most hated actress in Hollywood, forced to wear a cheap, tearing gown after America's sweetheart, Joanne, stole her S-tier role. During a red carpet disaster, Allyson tripped and fell—straight into the arms of the untouchable megastar, Byron Estes. The internet exploded, accusing Allyson of faking the fall to seduce him. Drowning in bad press and desperate to pay her agency's termination fee, she signed a reality TV contract. She was forced to play the desperate, clingy villain, acting as a pathetic stepping stone for Joanne and Byron's highly anticipated on-screen romance. "You could throw yourself at Byron a hundred times, and you'd still never make it into his bed," Joanne mocked. What Joanne and the furious public didn't know was that three years ago, when Byron was in a horrific crash, Joanne had abandoned him. It was Allyson who stayed. Even more absurd? Allyson and Byron were actually secretly married, bound by a multi-million dollar NDA. Determined to play her villainous role and get paid, Allyson memorized a book of cringe-inducing pickup lines, ready to disgust her secret husband on live television. "The stars are in the sky. But you... are in my heart." She expected the ice-cold superstar to push her away in disgust. Instead, when another male guest got too close to her, Byron completely shattered his untouchable facade, his eyes burning with a lethal, undeniable possessiveness that sent the internet into absolute chaos.

I was the blind, wolf-less burden of the Silver Moon Pack, relying entirely on my Fated Mate, Zane, to be my protector in the dark. But one night, my sight and my dormant Alpha wolf suddenly awakened, only to find Zane writhing in bed with my half-sister, Lyra. "Once I have the title to her timberlands, I’m kicking that wolf-less waste of space to the curb." Zane's cruel sneer shattered my naive heart. Worse, my adoptive father, the Alpha, was entirely complicit. To secure an alliance, he was secretly arranging to lock me in a room with a notorious, sadistic Alpha whose previous mates had all died under gruesome circumstances. They stripped me of my dignity and my inheritance, mocking my supposed helplessness right to my face while I pretended I still couldn't see. The grief of their absolute betrayal felt like a physical blow, quickly hardening into a cold, suffocating rage. I couldn't understand how the family I loved could plot my brutal execution with such casual cruelty. Instead of crying, I kept my eyes unfocused, played the pathetic cripple they expected, and walked straight into the forest to find a terrifyingly powerful Lycan disguised as a Rogue. "I want to seal our pact with a blood oath. From this moment forward, you are my mate." I claimed the monster as my own. This time, I wouldn't be their tragic victim; I was going to burn their entire kingdom to the ground.

After being kidnapped for years and finally rescued, five-year-old Izzy thought she was going home to her wealthy biological family. But when the social worker brought her to the freezing bus station, her biological father, Conrad, didn't even get out of his Mercedes. He took one look at her tangled hair and worn-out shoes, his lip curling in disgust. "I have a real family now. I'm not disrupting my life for this." He drove away, leaving her choking on his exhaust fumes. When her rough, grease-stained uncle Bryan forcefully brought her to the family mansion, things only got worse. Her biological mother refused to touch her, complaining that she smelled like a dumpster. Her half-sister Katelynn pushed her to the ground, making her bleed, and framed her for stealing. Instead of helping, Conrad roared at Izzy, calling her a wild animal and threatening to throw her back onto the streets. Izzy stood there shivering in her oversized rags, watching them stand together in a perfect, unbroken circle. She didn't understand why her own blood looked at her like she was a monster, or why they were so eager to throw a traumatized child back into the dark. But what her wealthy family didn't know was that Izzy had a secret: she could hear plants talking. And the greenhouse orchids were screaming at their cruelty. So, she climbed onto their expensive coffee table, pointed at her mechanic uncle, and made her choice. "I don't want Conrad to be my daddy. I want Uncle Bryan." She walked out of that loveless mansion forever, ready to follow the whispers of an old apple tree in her new backyard—a tree that was about to guide her to a buried fortune of gold.

I came home exhausted from an eighteen-hour hospital shift, just wanting to rest in the bed my husband of three years rarely shared with me. Instead, I found his mistress sprawled on our bedroom floor in a pool of stage blood, holding a knife and screaming that I had pushed her and killed her baby. My husband, Kian, rushed in. He didn't care that I was still in my wrinkled scrubs, nor did he look at the blatantly fake ultrasound she threw on the floor. "Shut up, you vicious bitch." He shoved me out of the way so hard that my head cracked open against the sharp marble fireplace. As real blood gushed down my face and blinded me, he simply scooped her up and walked out, leaving me bleeding on the floor while the house staff watched in disgust. As I lay there gasping, my medical training cut through the haze. The chronic weakness and dizzy spells I'd suffered for months weren't from overwork. Kian had been slowly poisoning me. I had played the meek, invisible wife for three years, enduring his coldness and his cheating. I didn't understand how the man I married could not only frame me, but actively try to murder me just to clear the way for his secret lover. I dragged myself up, stitched my own torn scalp without a single tear, and pulled out my hidden military-grade laptop. I signed the divorce papers to claim my guaranteed half of his ten-billion-dollar trust fund, and logged back into my old hacker alias. The meek wife was dead.

After eighteen years, I finally returned to the billionaire Warren family, only to be treated like uneducated, rust-belt trash. My stepmother shoved me into a freezing, windowless room, and my half-sister Kelly bought me an $89 plastic dress to humiliate me at the family's high-society gala. When her petty bullying failed, Kelly took it a step further. Standing at the top of the grand marble staircase, she grabbed my wrist, screamed, and intentionally threw herself down the steps in front of hundreds of elite guests. Lying in a pool of her own blood, she pointed a trembling finger at me. "She pushed me! Corrie tried to kill me!" The entire ballroom erupted in disgust. The guests called me a psychopath. My biological father, purple with rage, raised his hand to strike me, while my stepmother hid a victorious smirk behind her fake tears. They thought they had perfectly framed the feral country bumpkin. But they had no idea who they were dealing with. They didn't know I was "Night God," the dark web's most legendary underground surgeon and hacker, currently being hunted by New York's most ruthless billionaire. I didn't panic. I didn't cry. I calmly pulled out my heavily encrypted phone and projected a crystal-clear, un-hackable security feed onto the ballroom's massive LED screen. "Let's see the replay," I said. Watching the color drain from their faces was just the beginning. I was going to tear this entire toxic family apart to find out who really burned my mother alive.

Lukas Reiner built his life based off a promise 9 years ago with Viktor Volkov... the only person who actually saw him and knew him for what he actually was. They dreamed of the same future, the same ice, the same victory together. Until Viktor disappeared without a word, leaving Lukas behind with nothing but silence, rain... and feelings he never got to confess. Now, Lukas is at the top of college... Captain, prodigy and untouchable on ice until Viktor comes back. Colder and older, acting like the past never existed. Their reunion explodes into violence, but being forced to work together drags them into something far more dangerous than hate. The tension turns into stolen moments and those moments turn into a habit but before either of them can stop it, the line between resentment and desire begins to blur. Lukas never let go of the past. Viktor never planned to face it. But on the ice, there's nowhere left to run.