The Billionaire's Broken Doll Returns
Five years ago, I was sentenced to prison for a car accident that left Blaire Lowe fighting for her life in the ICU.
The day I was finally released, I thought the nightmare was over, but it had only just begun.
Carson Long, the man who once loved me, was waiting. He didn't see a victim of a tragic accident; he saw a monster who deserved to rot.
He made sure I knew that freedom was a lie. He turned my life into a living hell, dragging me through the halls of the hospital to witness the ruin I had caused, forcing me to watch as those who once knew me spat on my name and treated me like filth.
When he demanded I pay for my sins by destroying my own face, I didn't hesitate. I carved a jagged scar into my cheek just to satisfy his cold, relentless hatred, hoping it would finally be enough to earn his mercy.
But he wasn't satisfied. He dragged me to his estate, stripped me of my dignity, and turned me into the house's lowest servant, forcing me to scrub cobblestones until my knees bled and my body gave out.
Why did he hate me so much that he wanted me to suffer every second of my existence? Why was he so determined to see my soul crushed into dust, even when I had nothing left to give?
I looked at the trash I was forced to eat, and in that moment, I realized that as long as Carson held the leash, I would never be free.
I picked up a piece of moldy bread, my eyes hollow, and decided that if living meant becoming his dog, I would find a way to end the game on my own terms.
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Chapter 4
The words hit Jane like a physical blow. Her eyes widened in horror. Tears slid silently down her cheeks.
Meredith lunged forward to hit Jane again, but Carson raised a single hand to stop her.
"Don't dirty your hands on garbage, Meredith," Carson said flatly. "I will handle her."
Carson flicked his gaze to the two massive bodyguards standing behind him. They moved instantly.
Each guard grabbed one of Jane's arms. They hauled her off the floor, treating her like a broken ragdoll.
Jane's legs felt like water. She couldn't stand. The guards simply dragged her across the lobby toward the private VIP elevator.
Carson followed. The heavy thud of his shoes against the floor sounded like a countdown to her execution.
Inside the elevator, the enclosed space magnified Carson's suffocating presence. Jane couldn't pull enough oxygen into her lungs.
The elevator dinged at the 17th floor. The doors opened to the Intensive Care Unit. The sharp smell of bleach and antiseptic hit Jane's nose.
The guards dragged her down the long, quiet hallway. They stopped in front of the most heavily guarded room at the end of the corridor.
Through the large, reinforced glass window, Jane saw a woman lying in the bed. She was hooked up to dozens of machines. Her face and arms were covered in thick burn bandages. It was Blaire.
Carson stepped up to the glass. He looked at Blaire's lifeless form. A flash of pain crossed his eyes before hardening into pure venom directed at Jane.
He turned around. He grabbed the front of Jane's dirty coat and lifted her off the ground.
"Prison was too kind to you," Carson sneered, his face inches from hers.
He let go. He shoved her violently against the glass window of the ICU.
Jane's back hit the bulletproof glass with a heavy thud. She slid down the smooth surface and collapsed onto her knees.
Carson pressed the sole of his shoe against her calf, forcing her to stay kneeling.
"Keep your eyes open. Look at what you did," he commanded.
Jane stared at Blaire's ruined body. Five years of guilt and terror broke through her chest. She started sobbing uncontrollably.
She pressed her bloody hands flat against the cold glass. "I'm sorry, Blaire. I'm so sorry," she babbled frantically.
Carson watched her cry. A cruel, mocking smile touched the corner of his mouth.
He leaned down, his breath brushing against her ear like a demon. "If apologies worked, we wouldn't need hell."
He grabbed her hair, forcing her to look at him. "Crocodile tears. You think putting on this pathetic little performance will earn you my pity? It only makes me sick."
"No!" Jane gasped, shaking her head frantically. "I know I was wrong. I'll do anything to pay for it. Anything."
Carson's hand moved from her hair to her jaw. His fingers dug into her skin, squeezing so hard her bones ached.
"You want to atone?" Carson said, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "Show me substantial proof."
He pointed a finger at Blaire's bandaged face. "Why does the victim have to look like a monster, while the murderer gets to keep a perfect face?"
The words struck Jane's brain like lightning. She understood exactly what he wanted.
Meredith stepped out of the elevator and heard his words. "Ruin her face!" Meredith spat viciously.
Jane's eyes darted around the hallway. Beside her was a small visitation table. During the struggle a moment ago, a framed photograph of Blaire had been knocked over. The glass over the smiling picture was shattered.
Jane did not hesitate.
She crawled forward on her knees. Her trembling fingers reached out and picked up the largest, sharpest shard of broken glass.
The jagged edge immediately sliced into her thumb, but she felt nothing.
She turned her head and looked up at Carson. Her eyes held no anger. Only a dead, empty calmness.
Before anyone could react, Jane raised the shard of glass and dragged it violently across her own left cheek.
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9.2
For a thousand years, the city of Crescent Falls has survived beneath the shadow of an ancient savior. Each century, a man is chosen as an offering to Sariyah-the being said to have once driven demons from the world. When Bastion, the man Ember loves, is taken after daring to refuse her, Ember's grief turns into defiance, and she vows to bring him home no matter the cost.
Her search forces her into an uneasy alliance with Orion St. James, a dangerously charming immortal with a violent past and secrets tied to Sariyah herself. Bound together by a magic neither of them wants nor understands, Ember and Orion are drawn into a hidden war beneath the city-one involving cultists, monsters, and an ancient order known as the Watchers.
As Crescent Falls begins to fracture, Ember experiences unsettling visions that hint her bloodline is far more entangled with Sariyah than anyone ever suspected. Strange new powers awaken within her, blurring the line between protector and destroyer, while enemies gather and old loyalties are tested.
With the city on the brink of collapse and unseen forces moving in the shadows, Ember must decide how far she is willing to go to save Bastion-and whether becoming something darker is the only way to stop an evil that has ruled unchallenged for centuries.
Because some thrones are not inherited.
They are taken.
7.9
Hannah came home under a false identity, ready to keep her head down and avoid trouble. Then a near-drowning opened her eyes, and the family she had wanted gave her nothing but disappointment.
She severed every tie, shed the disguise, and rose in revenge as a miracle doctor, brilliant hacker, and feared underworld ruler. Shock followed her family at every turn.
Her parents regretted everything. Her eldest brother clung desperately to the bond of their shared blood, while her second brother gave up his entire fortune just to earn her forgiveness. Her third brother offered up his own body for a surgery-all to save her.
But Hannah stayed cold and built her empire alone. Only one deadly rival refused to be ignored.
"I was hired to kill you, mister."
"Then take my heart, too."
7.5
For five years, I was locked away in the freezing royal dungeon, starved and used as a bloody plaything by the kingdom's sadistic Cabinet Minister, Brandt Fischer.
He tortured me daily for one twisted reason: I simply looked like someone else.
When he visited my cell to casually announce my father's execution and drag a silver dagger across my neck, he expected me to beg.
Instead, I laughed, sank my teeth directly into his carotid artery, and was violently thrown against a jagged stone wall to my death.
As my skull cracked and my blood stained the moss, I thought about my so-called family. The moment Brandt had demanded me, my father, the Duke, handed me over without a single hesitation to save his own political career.
I was nothing but a disposable pawn, left to rot in the dark while the monsters who ruined my life thrived.
I died suffocating on my own blood and absolute, destructive vengeance.
Then, I opened my eyes.
I was lying in my silk-sheeted bed, reborn as my fifteen-year-old self.
Today was the exact day Lord Daryl Langley, the God of War, would be ambushed and crippled—the event that allowed Brandt to seize ultimate power.
I immediately stole a horse, rode to the palace gates, and threw myself directly in front of Daryl's moving carriage.
"I just didn't want to see a hero die like a slaughtered pig."
I didn't care if I had to shatter my own ankle to hijack his convoy. This time, I was going to save the general, and he would become the blade I use to slaughter them all.
8.4
Everything in Chris' world changes when he meets Kate.
Chris Cena who is a young billionaire CEO controls one of the most powerful empires built by his late father.
Chris lives under the shadow of his mother, Elisabeth Cena. The ruthless woman who once ruled the empire before handing it to him.
Kate Milmar who is brillant, sensual and emotionally guarded moves confidently among powerful men without ever allowing herself to belong to any of them.
When she publicly challenges a wealthy client, her fearless defiance immediately captures Chris's attention.
Chris offers her a dangerous proposal for her to leave her world and exclusively belong to him.
As their attraction grows slowly, Kate notices strange cracks in the history of the Cena Empire. Chris's father died suddenly years earlier and in the aftermath, Elisabeth took control of the company briefly before passing it to her son.
What once seemed like a normal transition begins to look suspicious as Kate uncovers missing records, hidden documents and a mysterious change in the company's will.
Elisabeth sees Kate as a threat to both her son and the legacy she had built and a silent war begins between the two women .
Chris gets caught between his loyalty to his mother and the growing feelings he has for Kate.
8.9
Ava Kidd just wanted to escape her abusive stepmother when she got drunk at a high-end club and stumbled into the wrong hotel room.
She woke up the next morning in a luxury penthouse, lying naked next to a terrifyingly handsome man covered in her scratch marks.
Recalling rumors of the hotel's secret underground concierge, she immediately assumed she had accidentally slept with an elite male escort.
Desperate to settle the bill, she offered him her only debit card with a pathetic $1,800.
But the man, who was actually Garrison Terry, the ruthless billionaire CEO, was deeply insulted by the cheap plastic.
He trapped her against the bed, coldly demanding a half-million-dollar service fee.
When Ava frantically offered her dead mother's tarnished locket as collateral, he cruelly dismissed it as worthless junk.
Ava was humiliated, her heart pounding with absolute terror.
She didn't understand why this arrogant gigolo was acting like a deranged extortionist, demanding a fortune from a broke girl who had clearly made a mistake.
Furious and refusing to cower, she sneaked out, put on his oversized designer shirt, and aggressively ate his $800 truffle breakfast.
Having no money left, she grabbed her cheap red lipstick, wrote a defiant IOU on his expensive linen napkin, and fled the hotel.
She thought she had escaped a criminal, but upstairs, the billionaire traced her lipstick-stained name with a predatory smile.
"Ava Kidd, I will absolutely find you."
9.1
I drowned in freezing pool water, the mocking laughter of the elite Savage family echoing in my ears.
When I opened my eyes, I was an eight-year-old orphan again, right on the day those monsters came to adopt me.
Terrified of repeating my hellish past, I ran down the hallway and desperately grabbed the shirt of a random, dumpy IT guy, begging him to take me instead.
I thought I had chosen a weak, boring suburban dad to hide behind.
But I was completely wrong.
My new mom greeted me with a ceramic tactical knife hidden in her apron.
My clumsy dad sliced dinner ribs with the terrifying precision of a seasoned hitman.
My ten-year-old brother was a dead-eyed sociopath who immediately calculated my bone density.
They were a family of lethal underworld monsters, yet they frantically pretended to be a normal, pathetic household just for me.