Reborn To Ruin My Traitorous Ex-Fiancé
Sera was the obedient, spoiled Hollywood socialite of the Beaumont family, completely devoted to her fiancé, Ethan.
But her life ended in a freezing Eastern European warehouse, chained to a damp concrete floor.
Right before she died, her captors shoved the transfer documents in her face. Ethan had sold her to human traffickers to cover his massive underground gambling debts.
While she suffered in absolute hell, her adoptive mother went on national television.
She squeezed out fake tears, publicly framing Sera for stealing family funds and eloping with a secret lover.
Sera's reputation was completely destroyed, and she was left to die a miserable, agonizing death in the dark.
She didn't understand why her family treated her like a disposable piece of trash.
She understood even less how the man who promised to marry her could hand her over to monsters without a second thought.
When she opened her eyes again, the biting cold and heavy iron chains were gone.
She was back five years in the past.
She was lying on a hotel bed, her limbs heavy with date-rape drugs, while a predatory Hollywood director hovered inches from her face.
It was the exact "exclusive audition" Ethan had arranged to exploit her for the very first time.
Sera didn't scream. With lethal, practiced precision, she shattered the director's wrist and brought a heavy crystal ashtray down on his skull.
The bleeding man collapsed onto the carpet and whimpered.
"Ethan promised... he said you'd be compliant..."
Staring at his pathetic face, a cold, predatory smile stretched across Sera's lips.
This time, she was going to systematically dismantle their lives.
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Chapter 4
The next morning, the clinic doctor walked into the suite. He checked Sera's vitals, removed the IV needle from the back of her hand, and officially cleared her for discharge.
Sera changed out of the hospital gown. She pulled her torn silk dress back on, covering the ripped shoulder with a dark blue medical scrub jacket a nurse had quietly provided.
She walked out of the suite and headed straight for the private VIP elevator bank in the clinic lobby. She stood in the quiet hallway, watching the digital numbers descend.
The heavy stainless steel doors slid open.
Kian Sinclair IV stood inside the small metal box. He was dressed in casual dark jeans and a black henley, holding a cup of black coffee.
Sera stepped into the elevator. Her posture immediately stiffened. She moved to the far opposite corner, maintaining a strict, calculated physical distance between them.
Kian noticed her defensive stance immediately. He didn't crowd her. He casually leaned his back against the cool metal wall, giving her maximum space.
"Do you have a safe ride back to Los Angeles?" Kian asked. His tone was polite, but entirely detached.
"I called an Uber Black," Sera replied curtly, staring straight ahead at the doors. She shut down any further avenue of conversation.
The elevator arrived at the ground floor with a soft ding. Kian nodded slightly. He gestured with his coffee cup for her to exit first.
Sera walked out into the bright California sun without looking back. Kian stood in the elevator, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he watched her retreating figure.
An hour later, the black SUV dropped Sera off at her luxurious Los Angeles penthouse. It was a massive, sterile property paid for by the Beaumont family to keep her out of their main estate.
She walked inside and immediately headed to the master bathroom. She turned the shower on scalding hot, scrubbing the remnants of the hotel, Lars, and the clinic off her skin until it turned pink.
She stepped out, wrapping herself in a thick robe.
The front door of the penthouse banged open.
Meg Foster, Sera's aggressive, high-strung Hollywood agent, barged into the living room. She was wearing loud designer heels and clutching a thick stack of manila folders.
"Where the hell have you been?" Meg yelled, pacing the glass-and-steel living room. "You missed three of my calls! Lars Donovan's office said you never showed up for the audition!"
Meg didn't wait for an answer. She marched over to the glass coffee table and slammed a thick contract down on the surface.
"Sign this," Meg demanded. "It's a new dating reality show. The network loves your 'spoiled brat' angle."
Sera stared at the paper. She recognized the logo. In her past life, she had signed that exact contract. The show's producers had maliciously edited her footage, painting her as a homewrecker and destroying her public image, making her an easy target for Ethan's later abuse.
Sera walked over to the table. She picked up the contract. She flipped directly to the final signature page.
Without a word, she gripped the top and bottom of the thick paper stack and calmly tore it entirely in half.
The loud, sharp sound of ripping paper echoed in the large room.
Meg gasped. Her jaw dropped open in absolute shock. She stared at the shredded pieces of paper falling onto the glass table.
"Are you insane?" Meg shrieked, her face turning red. "Your mother will cut off your funding if you don't cooperate! You are nothing without the Beaumont money!"
Sera slowly raised her head. She fixed Meg with a dead, unblinking stare. The temperature in the room seemed to plummet. Her aura shifted instantly, radiating the heavy, terrifying menace of a seasoned cartel boss.
"I am done playing my family's obedient little puppet," Sera said. Her voice was a low, dangerous whisper that cut straight through Meg's screaming. "Do not ever threaten me with them again."
Meg physically stepped back. Her high heel caught on the rug. She was genuinely intimidated by the sudden, chilling shift in her usually whiny, submissive client. Meg swallowed hard, her mind racing frantically to process the threat. This wasn't the easily manipulated girl she knew. For a brief, desperate moment, she considered calling Patricia Beaumont to force Sera into line, but something in Sera's dead, soulless eyes told her that would be a catastrophic mistake that could cost Meg her own career.
"Open your briefcase," Sera ordered, pointing at the leather bag in Meg's hand. "Show me the alternative casting calls you hid."
Trembling slightly, Meg fumbled with the brass latches. "Fine," Meg snapped, trying to regain some pathetic semblance of control as she opened the bag. "You want career suicide? Here it is." She pulled out a thin, rejected pitch folder.
"It's a global travel survival show," Meg stammered, holding it out like a shield. "Called 'Global Challenge.' It's grueling. Underfunded. They only want you as a 'Team Manager' to cause friction and act like a diva. It's career suicide."
Sera snatched the folder. She scanned the printed guest roster.
Her eyes locked onto a specific name halfway down the page: Ethan Vance.
A slow, predatory smile spread across Sera's face. It was a smile that promised absolute violence. A cold shiver ran violently down Meg's spine.
Sera grabbed a pen from the table. She signed the "Global Challenge" contract with sharp, decisive strokes, pressing so hard the ink nearly bled through the page.
She shoved the clipboard back into Meg's chest.
"Tell production," Sera said, her eyes gleaming with dark anticipation, "their new manager is ready to work."
Meg stumbled out of the penthouse in a daze, wondering if her client had suffered a secret, severe head injury.
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8.3
When Eli is forced to enroll at Blackwood Academy, he thinks it is just another remote boarding school. But on his first night, he realizes the terrifying truth.
This school is a prison.
Trapped in endless, deadly time loops, students are forced to complete cruel, supernatural trials. Ghosts, cursed hallways, hidden rules, and unspeakable creatures hunt them after dark. The only way to stay alive is to solve mysteries, earn credits, and obey the academy's twisted commands.
No one remembers how they arrived.
No one has ever graduated.
No one leaves alive.
Eli must team up with other desperate students to uncover the academy's century-old secret. If they fail, they will be trapped in the nightmare forever.
At Blackwood Academy, survival is the only exam.
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.
8.1
She thought patience would earn her love.
She was wrong.
After years of waiting for her best friend to finally see her, she meets the one man she should never want-his older brother. Dark, forbidden, and dangerously perceptive, he sees through every excuse she's ever made for being overlooked.
Now she must choose between a safe fantasy that keeps breaking her heart and a dangerous truth that offers no escape once it begins.
Because the brother who looks at her like that?
He doesn't believe in halfway love.
8.9
The Moon Goddess gave them a bond-Adrian gave his heart to someone else.
For three years, Luna Mira has lived in the shadow of her trauma, clinging to the comfort of an Alpha who felt like safety. until a grieving widow arrives and exposes the truth. While Mira struggles to heal, Adrian risks everything for another woman, showering her with the affection and gifts meant for his wife.
After a brutal betrayal on the streets of France, Mira learns that being a mate is destiny-but being a Luna is power. If Adrian won't choose her, she'll choose herself. and the most dangerous Lycan King in the world may already be waiting to claim what Adrian foolishly threw away.
9.7
Some chains are forged in iron.
Others in desire.
Sebastian Kol has existed for six centuries. Cursed to burn alive in his own skin every night he transforms into a beast even he cannot control. He wants one thing. Freedom. And after five centuries of searching, a prophecy finally gives it a name.
Leilani Ravenwood.
She carries the mark of the moon goddess on her skin and a prophecy that brands her as his salvation. Her blood silences his beast, and her touch sets him on fire.
In the worst possible way. And in the best possible way.
Furious at the hold she has over him, Sebastian takes her, strips her of everything, and bends her world until it breaks, determined to own what the goddess dared to use against him. What follows is dark and consuming. A monster who has never met his match, and a woman who proves to be it.
But Leilani Ravenwood does not break easily. And somewhere between the hatred and the hunger, the punishment and the pull, the ancient beast begins to suspect the terrible truth.
The woman born to be his salvation may already be his undoing, his poison and cure wearing the same skin.
And he is running out of reasons to care.
7.4
The house was a living inferno, the heat devouring the air in my lungs as I clutched my five-year-old daughter to my chest. Emily was dead weight, her skin already cooling even as the room turned into a furnace of orange and black.
Through the stinging smoke, I saw my husband, Kenney, crawling toward the door with a wet handkerchief pressed to his face. He didn't look back at the crib, and he didn't call my name; he was simply leaving us to burn.
I lunged forward and grabbed his ankle, my nightgown catching fire, but he didn't reach down to save me. He recoiled in horror at the sight of my burning hair and our dead child, kicking me back with a panicked shriek.
"Let go!" he shrieked.
I died as a massive, flaming timber snapped from the ceiling and crushed us both into silence. I couldn't believe that the man I loved would leave his family to die just to save his own skin, but the rage I felt was colder than the death that followed.
But then the burning stopped instantly, replaced by a cold so sharp it made my teeth ache. I gasped, jerking upright in my bed to find the velvet duvet cool under my palms and the nursery quiet, with Emily still breathing softly in her crib.
I had returned to the winter morning two years before the fire, the exact day Kenney finalized the deal to sell me to the King for a promotion. As Kenney stepped into the room with a practiced mask of concern, I realized I was no longer the victim of this story.
"A nightmare, my love?" he asked, reaching out to touch my shoulder.
I flinched away, my eyes burning with a hatred he couldn't yet understand. Tonight was the Winter Masquerade, the night he planned to offer me to the King as a prize, but this time, I was going to turn his social ladder into a gallows.