Left To Burn: The Heiress's Ruthless Comeback
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Trapped in a deadly fire at my own engagement party, my lungs burned as I reached a shaking hand out to my fiancé for help.
He stopped and looked right at me through the thick smoke. But instead of saving me, he wrapped his jacket tightly around my stepsister and ran, leaving me to burn.
I barely survived. But when I woke up in the hospital, my father and stepmother didn't even ask about my injuries.
They threw a stack of legal documents right onto my bed.
"Sign the papers, Avah. Step aside. Jaclyn is far better suited to be Kain's wife."
My fiancé then stormed into the room, publicly humiliating me with false rumors of an illegitimate child and threatening to bankrupt my company.
Four years of swallowing my pride to be the perfect, obedient pawn for our family business, all for nothing.
They threw me to the wolves without a single second of hesitation, expecting me to just lower my head and cry like I always did.
But the fire had burned that pathetic version of me away.
I ripped out my IV, letting the blood drip onto the sheets, and tore their contracts straight down the middle.
"The engagement is over."
I threw my million-dollar ring right at my ex's chest, then picked up the phone to call my trust lawyer. They wanted to take everything from me, so I was going to make them bleed.
Left To Burn: The Heiress's Ruthless Comeback Chapter 1
Thick, acrid black smoke violently erupted from the air conditioning vents of the Manhattan five-star hotel's penthouse ballroom.
The harsh, ear-piercing shriek of the fire alarm instantly shattered the elegant classical music playing at the engagement party.
Panic exploded. Guests screamed, their voices raw with terror, as they shoved each other, stampeding blindly toward the only visible emergency exit.
Avah Raymond was caught in the crush. A terrified guest slammed hard into her shoulder, sending her crashing to the floor right next to a towering champagne pyramid.
The glass tower collapsed. Shards of broken crystal rained down, instantly slicing through the expensive silk fabric of her haute couture gown.
A sharp, blinding pain shot up from her twisted ankle. Avah gritted her teeth, a choked gasp escaping her lips, as she reached out to grip the edge of the marble bar, desperately trying to pull herself up.
Flames had already caught the heavy velvet curtains. The fire crawled upward with terrifying speed, forming a wall of heat that completely blocked her path to the left.
The toxic smoke filled her lungs. Avah coughed violently, her chest burning as if she had swallowed glass. Her vision began to blur from the severe lack of oxygen.
Through the thick, gray haze, her stinging eyes locked onto a familiar, broad back. Kain Hopkins. Her fiancé.
"Kain!" Avah reached out a trembling hand toward him. Her voice was weak, barely a rasp over the roar of the fire, begging him to take her with him.
Kain's footsteps faltered. He paused and turned his head, looking directly through the smoke toward Avah's location.
A tiny flicker of hope flared in Avah's chest. Her cold fingers twitched, waiting for him to rush over.
Instead, Kain firmly averted his gaze. Without a second of hesitation, he turned his back on her and sprinted toward the VIP lounge on the opposite side of the room.
Avah's eyes widened in pure shock. Her breath hitched. She stared at his retreating back, her brain refusing to process the reality of his choice.
The heavy mahogany door of the lounge was kicked open. Jaclyn Raymond, Avah's stepsister, ran out screaming and threw herself directly into Kain's arms.
Kain quickly stripped off his expensive suit jacket and wrapped it tightly around Jaclyn's shivering shoulders.
He didn't even cast a single backward glance at his fiancée. He just shielded Jaclyn with his body and hurried her toward the safety of the emergency stairwell.
It felt as though a sledgehammer had slammed directly into Avah's sternum. The impact shattered her ribs and crushed her heart. For a second, she completely forgot the blistering heat of the flames surrounding her.
A burning slab of drywall from the ceiling crashed to the floor inches from her feet, sending up a shower of sparks and completely cutting off her line of sight to the door.
The smoke was suffocating now, stripping the last bits of oxygen from the air. Avah's arms gave out. She collapsed onto the scorching floorboards, her muscles entirely useless.
Staring at the wall of fire where Kain and Jaclyn had disappeared, a cold, self-deprecating smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.
Years of swallowing her pride. Years of compromising her own happiness for the sake of her family's business interests. It all turned to ash in this single, defining moment.
Her fingers moved to her throat. She grabbed the heavy diamond necklace-the symbol of this hypocritical corporate marriage-and yanked it hard. The clasp snapped.
Avah threw the necklace violently into the nearest patch of flames. It was a physical release, a final severing of the chains that had bound her.
The extreme heat pressed down on her. Her vision tunneled into darkness. Her breathing grew incredibly shallow, her chest barely rising.
Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the ballroom were violently hacked open by a massive firefighter's axe.
A tall, powerfully built rescue worker charged into the inferno. His head swiveled, and he locked onto Avah's motionless body with terrifying precision.
He vaulted over a burning table. Strong, unyielding arms scooped Avah off the floor, lifting her unconscious body against a solid chest.
A cold oxygen mask was clamped firmly over her nose and mouth, forcing life-saving air into her lungs, dragging her violently back from the edge of death.
The piercing wail of ambulance sirens echoed through the dark Manhattan sky. The stretcher rattled wildly as Avah was shoved through the double doors of the emergency room.
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Left To Burn: The Heiress's Ruthless Comeback of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6Chapter 7 Ch. 7Chapter 8 Ch. 8Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels
8.6
I was the youngest Paladin in history, the absolute pride of the Azure Blade.
But after a disastrous mission in the snow, I was falsely accused of slaughtering my own squad.
Grand Master Bernardo Rowe didn't just exile me; he surgically severed my connection to the magic Aether, turning me into a crippled mortal.
Desperate to survive, I tried to climb the Holy Stairs to reclaim my legendary sword, "Rebellion."
Instead of answering my call, my own blade shrieked in absolute rejection and blasted me down the thousand stone steps.
My bones snapped like dry twigs, and I was left in a pool of my own blood.
The pilgrims laughed at me. The guards declared me a lost cause and left me to rot in the dirt.
I should have died there, betrayed by the Order and the holy magic I once served.
But a silent, massive laborer named Cato Sims dragged my mangled body into the shadows.
He healed my shattered skeleton in mere days with impossible skill, yet he allowed lowly servants to spit on him and beat him just to keep my presence hidden.
I didn't understand why my holy sword had abandoned me, and I understood even less why this stranger was protecting a condemned criminal.
When I finally snapped and demanded to know his price for saving my life, he didn't ask for money or my body.
"The mountain does not forget its debts. I am reclaiming what was taken from it."
Staring into his unyielding eyes, I realized my exile wasn't the end, but the beginning of a terrifying truth.
9.2
She loved him until she lost herself.
Now, behind locked doors and shattered glass, she must learn to breathe again.
When she first met Lloyd, he was magnetic and intoxicating. The kind of man who turned every head when he entered a room, who spoke in promises sweet enough to taste. With him, she felt chosen, cherished, and safe.
But safety was an illusion, and love became a weapon.
And slowly, piece by piece, he dismantled her until nothing of the woman she once was remained.
Now institutionalized after a breakdown, she begins to piece together the brutal truth of what really happened in the shadows of their love story. Memories sting like open wounds: the manipulation disguised as tenderness, the apologies that blurred into threats, the desperate hope that tomorrow he'd be the man she fell for again.
Yet beneath the grief and the shame, a quiet rebellion stirs, a vow to reclaim her voice, her freedom, and her life. Because this is not just a story of how she fell apart. It is a story of how she rises.
Haunting, raw, and achingly intimate, Boys like him peels back the glittering mask of a toxic love affair to reveal the kind of darkness that hides in plain sight, and the unbreakable strength it takes to escape it.
9.3
Chandler was the secret wife of Avery Osborn, a powerful media heir who kept their marriage hidden to avoid the scandal of her illegitimate birth.
After catching him openly flirting with a rival at a gala, Avery mocked her low status and told her she was nothing without his money.
Instead of crying, Chandler immediately signed a zero-payout divorce agreement, left her wedding ring on his glass table, and walked out.
To numb the pain of her shattered life, she went to a notorious underground club.
Drugged by a bartender, she lost her mind and ended up having a wild night with a handsome stranger she mistook for a high-end male escort.
Panicking the next morning, Chandler transferred her entire life savings of $50,000 to the man to buy his silence, then fled to her corporate job.
But at the afternoon executive meeting, her blood ran cold.
The man she had paid off was standing at the head of the boardroom table. He wasn't a gigolo. He was Brennan George, the ruthless new COO of her company.
Cornering her in the women's restroom, Brennan held up a printed copy of her $50,000 wire transfer.
"Wiring a massive sum of cash to your direct superior after a night together is classified as commercial bribery and solicitation," he whispered dangerously.
Chandler was terrified, realizing she had handed him the exact evidence needed to destroy her career and sue her into bankruptcy.
"Marry me," Brennan demanded coldly. "It's the only way to make this HR problem disappear."
9.0
Allegra woke up in a sterile alien hospital with no memory, no ID chip, and a terrifying snow leopard General claiming responsibility for her crash.
But a routine ID scan at a local boutique shattered her fragile cover.
The machine shrieked, flashing a fatal red warning: NO NEURAL LINK DETECTED.
She was a "Ghost"—an illegal, unregistered biological entity in a ruthless Hybrid Empire.
The boutique locked down instantly. Heavily armed police swarmed the plaza, laser sights painting her chest red.
She was dragged into a subterranean military black site, where a manic geneticist tested her blood and discovered the impossible truth.
She wasn't a Hybrid. She was a pure Homo Sapiens—an extinct race whose mere presence could cure the Hybrids' fatal Psyche collapse.
To keep her all to himself, the scientist lied to the General, branding her a toxic, mutating bio-weapon.
Forced by Imperial law, the General abandoned her to the scientist's cruel custody.
Allegra was locked inside a reinforced glass cage in the deepest isolation ward, waiting to be dissected.
She huddled on the floor, trembling in absolute despair.
She didn't belong in this nightmare world. Why was she being treated like a monster? Why did this madman look at her like a prize to be torn apart?
Watching the scientist's fox ears twitch in manic stress outside the glass, her human empathy momentarily overrode her terror.
She stood up and pressed her palm against the glass, perfectly aligning it with his.
"Don't be so nervous, Mr. Fox."
Instantly, an invisible wave of human resonance flooded his core, shattering his genetic madness.
The terrifying predator was reduced to a whimpering, devoted puppy, pressing himself against the window in absolute submission.
Allegra slowly pulled her hand back, her heart skipping a beat.
Well, she thought, that changes things.
7.4
I was only fifteen when my venomous family orchestrated my doom by forcing me into an arranged marriage with mafia heir Javier Velasquez.
On our wedding night, Javier paraded strippers into our suite to show his absolute contempt, turning me into the ultimate joke of the underworld overnight.
But being a joke was a luxury compared to what came next.
Three years later, Javier needed to be a widower to marry into a heavily armed family and secure their backing for a coup.
He didn't grant me the mercy of a bullet.
Instead, he dragged me to an abandoned underground safehouse, locked me in the damp, rotting dark, and told the world I had been assassinated.
For six months, I starved in that dungeon, surviving only on the desperate hope that my family was safe.
Then, on the day of his lavish new wedding, a cruel maid kicked a plate of spoiled food onto my floor and delivered the final, fatal blow.
"Annabel is dead. Pined away and died of a broken heart two weeks ago."
My gentle mother was dead, all because she actually believed his lie about my tragic murder.
Driven by pure agony and an all-consuming hatred, I shattered crates of smuggled chemical solvents and struck a match, letting the roaring inferno turn their bloody wedding into my funeral pyre.
I thought the fire was the end.
But when I opened my eyes, the suffocating smoke vanished, replaced by the biting chill of a Long Island winter.
I was standing in the snow, back on the exact day my descent into hell began.
This time, the terrified girl was dead, and I would use their own ruthless rules to tear their empire apart.
8.2
In our beast world, females are treated as nothing more than precious breeding stock to keep the pack strong. As the pack's best Mender, I spent all my time focusing on my healing herbs, completely ignoring my maturity ritual.
But tonight, the blind pack elder grabbed my wrist and delivered a chilling ultimatum.
If I don't choose my mates by the next Full Moon, the Council of Elders will force a match and assign them to me.
The threat is already suffocating. Arrogant, elite warriors like Caleb Quinn are pacing outside my door like starving wolves, stalking my porch and using pack business to corner me. At home, the reality of multiple mates is even worse. My mother has two mates—my father, the strongest Alpha, and my cold, intellectual step-father. Their toxic, murderous jealousy turns our house into a daily war zone. They literally unleash suffocating killing intent on innocent cubs just for hugging my mother.
I am disgusted by this sick, possessive obsession. I refuse to let my life become a battlefield of jealous males fighting over who gets to guard my door, and I absolutely refuse to be forced into a harem by the Elders.
So, I made a declaration that shocked my entire family and broke every pack tradition.
"I will only ever take one mate."
And to make sure none of those predatory warriors can touch me, I set an impossible trap.
"Whoever wants me must defeat my father first."
