She Sent Them to Hell
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Melanie had been in a secret relationship with her best friend's brother, Ethan, for five years, and finally, he agreed to make it public.
Her best friend excitedly called to confirm, "Melanie, I can't believe my brother's sweetheart is you..."
Just as she was about to nod, she heard her friend say, "Half-sister? I thought he would like you."
That single sentence hit Melanie like a ton of bricks. In a frenzy, she rushed to the company to confront Ethan for clarification.
Unexpectedly, she overheard him confessing his deep feelings to his half-sister.
"Rosalyn, you're the only one I love," he declared. "Marrying her was just to protect you. Keeping her nearby ensures she won't dig into her mother's accident and won't harm you!"
Upon discovering the truth, Melanie decided to accept the marriage to turn the tables on him.
However, after obtaining the marriage certificate, she realized she might have married the wrong person...
Before she could regret it, Ethan's rival, swept her into his arms. "You think you can just up and leave after tying the knot?"
She Sent Them to Hell Chapter 1
"Melanie, guess what? My brother—the human iceberg—actually has his eye on someone!"
Melanie Gilbert had just secured a billion-dollar deal when she received the call from her best friend Leyla Dawson.
Hearing this, her heart skipped a beat.
Because the woman her best friend was talking about was none other than herself, who had been secretly dating Ethan Dawson for five years.
Ethan had said that once she closed this deal, he would give her a surprise.
At this thought, a smile curved Melanie's lips. "He told you already?"
"He didn't! That girl graduated today, and my brother traveled all the way just to attend her graduation ceremony. My brother, who barely posts on social media, actually shared a photo of them together and sweetly called her 'little princess.' Tsk tsk tsk, so cheesy…"
Melanie felt as if she had been struck by lightning. Her voice trembled. "You… you must have… seen it wrong…"
She checked Ethan's social media feed. There was nothing.
"How is that possible? My brother specially called me over just to take photos of them! Don't believe me? Look!"
The moment Melanie saw the photo, her blood seemed to freeze.
The man who had spent the night wrapped around her just yesterday was now tenderly holding another girl in his arms.
The girl was smiling radiantly. It was her own stepsister—Rosalyn Burgess!
"Melanie, you have no idea how devoted my brother has been these five years. He flew to Pariion to see that girl…" Leyla kept chattering on, but Melanie could no longer hear a single word.
She instinctively denied it.
She refused to believe that five years of relationship had been nothing but a scam of affection!
Melanie ran back to the company like a madwoman. She knew Ethan had already returned.
She needed answers!
But just as she reached the office door, she heard ambiguous voices coming from inside.
"Ethan, if it weren't for me, you wouldn't have pretended to be with my sister all these years either. But back then… my sister's mother's car accident… I really… didn't do it on purpose."
A buzzing sound filled Melanie's head. Her mind went completely blank.
She stood frozen in disbelief. Her mother's death hadn't been an accident?
Ethan's voice continued. "It wasn't your fault. Besides, these past five years, Melanie's life has been smooth sailing. Meanwhile, you suffered so much abroad."
Hearing this, Melanie covered her mouth in disbelief. Tears fell heavily.
When her mother passed away, she had been devastated. It was Ethan who had stayed by her side and handled the funeral for her.
Back then, he had promised he would protect her in her mother's place.
Melanie had believed him.
For so many years, she had never once doubted his sincerity.
But now her entire world was collapsing!
"But Ethan… are you really… going to marry my sister? Have you actually fallen in love with her?"
Melanie's heart lifted nervously.
"Silly girl, I won't fall in love with her. Marrying her is only to protect you. Only by keeping her right under my watch can I make sure she never looks into what happened back then. So she will never hurt you!"
In an instant, Melanie's heart plummeted and shattered.
"It's just that you'll have to suffer a bit, staying with me without any title or status." Ethan gently smoothed Rosalyn's hair with heartache in his voice.
"It's okay. As long as I can be with you, I'm willing to endure anything." With that, Rosalyn's red lips pressed against the man's throat.
Ethan let out a low groan. Desire flashed in his eyes as he pulled her tightly into his arms.
Soon after, his ragged breathing mixed with the woman's broken moans drifted out.
Melanie clenched her fists until the pain of her nails digging into her palms finally brought back a shred of clarity.
She stumbled away. When she reached a place with no one around, she finally collapsed and sobbed uncontrollably.
The love she had always believed in had turned out to be nothing but a cruel deception.
The man she loved deeply was also an accomplice in her mother's death.
Melanie felt as though an invisible hand was crushing her heart, the pain making it hard to breathe.
After an unknown amount of time, she finally calmed down.
She could not let her mother die in vain!
She had to make these two pay!
With trembling hands, Melanie took out her phone and dialed a long-unused number. "I agree to the marriage alliance with the Fuller family!"
The man on the other end sounded surprised. "You've finally come around?"
Melanie knew her father Darin Burgess only saw her as a tool for marriage alliance.
She didn't care. She only needed someone who could help her take revenge! "But I want fifty percent of the Burgess Group shares!"
Darin rejected without hesitation. "Impossible."
Melanie gave a cold laugh. "Fine then. Let your precious illegitimate daughter marry Mr. Fuller instead."
Her father exploded in anger. "Melanie, have you lost your mind? I'm doing this for your own good, and you dare threaten me?"
Melanie sneered coldly. "For my own good? Everyone knows Mr. Fuller is sickly, violent, and all three of his previous wives died under mysterious circumstances! Darin, don't think I don't know the Burgess Group is on the verge of bankruptcy. You desperately need the Fuller family's capital injection. You're rushing me into this marriage just to please the Fullers, aren't you?"
The breathing on the other end hitched. After a long silence, he reluctantly spoke. "Fine. I agree. But you must marry Mr. Fuller within one month!"
Soon after, her father arranged a meeting between them.
The next day, Melanie arrived at the location on time.
As soon as she entered the private room, she met the deep, intense gaze of the man seated at the head of the table.
Melanie secretly marveled. The man she was about to marry actually had an extremely handsome face. No wonder despite his terrible reputation, there were still flocks of girls throwing themselves at him.
Since she had already agreed to the marriage, Melanie didn't want to waste words. She went straight to the point. "When do you plan to get married?"
"What?" The man looked momentarily stunned.
Melanie frowned. His reaction suggested he had no intention of marrying?
The man studied her up and down, then suddenly smiled, his tone teasing. "Melanie Gilbert? Ethan Dawson's chief secretary."
He raised an eyebrow. "You want to marry me? But I heard your relationship with Ethan Dawson is… quite special."
Melanie was a little surprised that he knew about her and Ethan.
She gritted her teeth and finally nodded in admission. "Yes. We did have a secret relationship before. But we've already broken up…"
Melanie simply confessed everything.
After she finished, Mathew Fuller raised an eyebrow. "So you want to marry me just so I can help you get revenge?"
Melanie nodded.
Mathew's fingers tapped idly on the table.
For some reason, a faint smile curved his lips.
Remembering his unpredictable temperament, Melanie suddenly felt a trace of regret for being so straightforward.
Just as she grew nervous and uneasy, the man abruptly stood up and walked toward the door.
Instinctively, Melanie called out to him. "Mr. Fuller, where are you going?"
Mathew turned back, flashing a roguish grin. "Didn't you want to get married? We're going to get the certificate now."
Melanie froze.
Mathew glanced at his watch and kindly reminded her. "The city hall closes in half an hour. If we head for it, we can still make it. Miss Gilbert, are you having second thoughts?"
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She Sent Them to Hell of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6Chapter 7 Ch. 7
Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels
7.9
For years, Elara Park endured being called "half-breed" and "weak blood" at pack meetings. Because she was a hybrid wolf, she trusted Zack Blackwood's sweet promises.
Then he rejected their fated mate bond moments after claiming her body.
Before she could even breathe through the soul-crushing agony, the news was already celebrating his engagement to her vindictive stepsister, Selina. The headlines gushed about their "perfect pureblooded union."
Her mother's call came like a final blow: "Elara, you're twenty-three now. It's time you contributed to the family."
Marry the worthless second son of a prominent Alpha family or lose her father's empire forever. They had her trapped, ready to steal her birthright and leave her powerless.
But as the heartbreak bled out, ice-cold determination took its place.
Elara went to the arranged meeting at the city's most exclusive club, determined to turn her mother's matchmaking scheme to her advantage. She would agree to marriage-but on her own terms.
When she found who she believed was Damian Sterling in the private suite, she cut straight to business: a contract marriage with clear boundaries, separate lives, and a guaranteed escape route.
What she didn't know? The devastatingly dangerous man who'd just signed her contract with a predator's smile wasn't the pathetic playboy she expected.
He was Dominic Wolfe-the Alpha King who'd been relentlessly hunting her for years.
And now, she'd just signed herself over to him completely.
7.2
Genevieve woke up choking on her own blood, a fatal gash tearing through her abdomen. The memories of a primitive world crashed into her mind—she had transmigrated into the body of a sadistic beastman Mistress.
But the five powerful beastmen "mates" standing over her hadn't come to her rescue. They had come to watch their tormentor die.
"We should just leave her," Kameron sneered coldly. "The scavengers will clean up the mess."
Gilberto spat in disgust, while Angelo, a silver-scaled snake-man, trembled in pure terror at the sight of her. The original owner had whipped them, humiliated them, and driven another mate to suicide. Now, they were letting her bleed out in the mud, their eyes filled with undisguised loathing and satisfaction.
She was a top-tier apocalyptic survival expert, yet here she was, paying the ultimate price for a stranger's monstrous sins. It was a bitter, unacceptable irony to die helplessly in the dirt while her supposed protectors waited for her corpse to rot.
She refused to accept this ending.
Forcing a chaotic surge of energy through their shared Biological Link, she brought all five men to their knees in agonizing pain, commanding them to carry her back. In the dark cave, without a single scream, she plunged her bare hands into a fire and brutally cauterized her own gaping wound with searing ash. As the beastmen stared in horrified awe at the unbreakable soul now occupying the tyrant's body, Genevieve wiped the blood from her face and began to rewrite her fate.
7.9
I woke up in a sterile hospital room, my head split open from a horrific car crash.
But the pain in my skull was nothing compared to the memory burned into my retinas just before the impact: my billionaire husband, Dawson, walking into a luxury hotel with a woman who looked exactly like his dead first love.
When Dawson finally arrived at the ward, there was no panic or relief in his eyes. He just coldly looked at my bloody bandages.
"Your reckless driving just forced me to postpone the quarterly board meeting."
Even our seven-year-old son, who I almost died giving birth to, didn't spare me a single glance. He kicked my hospital bed in annoyance.
"The Wi-Fi here is garbage. You're a bad mom! Dad said Aunt Angelita should be the one living with us!"
My blood turned to ice. For five years, I had bent over backward, wearing the hideous pale dresses he picked, starving myself to maintain a fragile figure, all to be a perfect, obedient substitute for a ghost.
And this was what I got. An unfaithful husband who would rather bury me in debt than grant me a divorce, and a son who wished I was dead.
The weak, subservient Charlene died on that wet asphalt.
When the doctor pointed to Dawson and asked for his name, I looked at my husband with a hollow, defensive stare.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
Using retrograde amnesia as my shield, I was going to tear their perfect world apart.
7.1
I was the Architect who built the digital fortress for the most feared Don in New York.
To the world, I was Brendan Wiggins’s silent, elegant Queen.
But then my burner phone buzzed under the dinner table.
It was a photo from his mistress: a positive pregnancy test.
"Your husband is celebrating right now," the caption read. "You are just the furniture."
I looked across the table at Brendan. He smiled and held my hand, lying to my face without blinking.
He thought he owned me because he saved my life ten years ago.
He told her I was just "functional." That I was a barren asset he kept around to look respectable, while she carried his legacy.
He thought I would accept the disrespect because I had nowhere else to go.
He was wrong.
I didn't want to divorce him—you don't divorce a Don.
And I didn't want to kill him. That was too easy.
I wanted to erase him.
I liquidated fifty million dollars from the offshore accounts only I could access. I destroyed the servers I had built.
Then, I contacted a black-market chemist for a procedure called "Tabula Rasa."
It doesn't kill the body. It wipes the mind clean. A total hard reset of the soul.
On his birthday, while he was out celebrating his bastard son, I drank the vial.
When he finally came home to find the empty house and the melted wedding ring, he realized the truth.
He could burn the world down looking for me, but he would never find his wife.
Because the woman who loved him no longer existed.
8.2
For three years, nineteen-year-old Ella Campbell rotted in a freezing psychiatric isolation room.
Her billionaire family didn't visit her once, only pulling her out today to force her to publicly apologize to Ashlyn, the perfect sister who had framed her.
At Ashlyn's glamorous engagement gala, Ella was treated worse than a stray dog and forced to watch her childhood sweetheart propose to her sister.
When Ella showed no jealousy, her brother Ivan dragged her onto a dark balcony and nearly choked her to death.
Her mother didn't even check if Ella was breathing, merely ordering a makeup artist to paint thick concealer over the dark purple handprints on Ella's neck so the family's stock price wouldn't drop.
Standing under the blinding stage lights in a shapeless gray dress, facing three hundred mocking Wall Street executives, Ella was supposed to be the broken, obedient psycho the Campbells needed.
"I am deeply sorry for the pain I caused."
She was supposed to end the apology there and bow to her abusers, but Ella didn't shed a single tear.
"My only regret is that I didn't insist on waiting for the police to arrive that night. I deeply regret that I didn't demand a full, legal toxicology report to prove to everyone exactly what happened."
As the ballroom erupted into suspicious whispers and her paralyzed twin brother finally saw the violent bruises hidden beneath her makeup, Ella's counterattack against the Campbell family officially began.
7.5
On the morning of our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, I found a cream-colored document tucked inside my husband's suit pocket.
It was a twenty-million-dollar asset transfer for his former receptionist, Carmen. But what made my blood run cold was the contingent beneficiary: Leo, my newborn son who the hospital claimed was kidnapped twenty-three years ago.
When I confronted Devonte, he didn't even try to explain. He handed me a fake Cartier watch, canceled all my credit cards, and publicly called me delusional.
The next day, he moved Carmen into our mansion and emptied all our joint accounts into offshore trusts.
"If you don't sign these papers and walk away, I will have you committed," he threatened, his mother nodding in agreement.
They had orchestrated the kidnapping of my baby, hiding him with the mistress while I spent half my life sedated and screaming in grief. Now, to keep his secret, Devonte was going to lock me in a psychiatric ward and bury me in debt.
I didn't understand how the man I loved could be such a monster. Why did he steal my child? What else was hidden in that confidential adoption file?
Pushed to the absolute brink, I refused to be his victim.
When his goons came to my temporary apartment to drag me away, I turned to the rugged union electrician who had just fixed my lights.
"If you need a husband to keep you out of a psych ward, I'll marry you," he said, offering himself as my legal shield.
I took his hand. It was time to tear my husband's perfect life apart.
