The Legendary Valkyrie Awakens: I'm Their Eternal Regret
Gemma once ruled battlefields as a legendary warrior, the kind of woman who made the world kneel.
For the man she loved, she erased her memories, hid her name, and became Brendan's quiet, forgotten wife.
All she received was his cold disgust, her sister's vicious lies, and her family's merciless abuse.
When she lay dying, the seal on her memories finally broke. The warrior the world feared came back.
Leaders called. Armies welcomed her home. Brendan collapsed in the rain, pleading wildly.
Gemma sneered and crushed her ring.
Then Rhys, the youngest and most brilliant commander alive, stepped forward. "She's mine! Who dares touch my woman?"
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Chapter 2
After stepping out, Gemma took out her phone. She reached out to Plume, a subordinate who once served under her in the Dominion, and sent a message announcing that she would soon return.
Within an hour, the news spread everywhere. The return of Death swept across multinational organizations, the Dominion headquarters, the military command, and many other circles.
Across the world, influential figures in different fields stopped what they were doing. Assistants received immediate instructions to clear schedules.
Everyone prepared to welcome Death's return.
...
At the same time, Brendan couldn't calm the uneasy pounding in his chest. A sense of foreboding lingered in his mind.
Not long after, Brett Yates appeared at the hospital entrance. He was Brendan's bodyguard, the man Brendan had ordered to remain and watch Gemma.
The moment Brendan saw him, he stood up abruptly. "Why did you come here? Didn't I tell you to stay there and keep an eye on Gemma?"
Brett answered without hesitation, "Mr. Edwards, Gemma disappeared."
Brendan's expression shifted instantly. He turned and rushed out.
"Brendan!" Sallie called after him and hurried to follow, but she couldn't catch up.
In a rush of panic, Brendan drove back to the house. The moment he arrived, he spotted Gemma walking out the door.
"Gemma! How dare you! I told you to reflect on your own mistake!"
She asked coldly, "And why should I listen to you?"
The presence around her felt fierce enough to crush anything that stood in its way.
Was this really the same woman he had lived with all these years? The wife who always smiled gently and endured everything without protest?
Shock slowly turned into humiliation, and before he knew it, humiliation had twisted into blinding rage. "Gemma! Stop causing a scene and come home with me."
Brendan still believed nothing had truly changed. In his mind, this was just another outburst from Gemma. He assumed that once her temper cooled, she would return home like always.
Soon enough, she would wake before dawn, prepare his meals, and quietly resume the role of the obedient wife he was used to.
That assumption collapsed the moment he tried to reach for her. Before his hand could even touch her, Gemma knocked it aside.
"Keep your hand off me. You make me sick." Her gaze turned cold as ice. "Brendan, you should thank your father. If it weren't for him, I would never have married you."
During the six years since she left the Dominion and chose to live as an ordinary woman, the people she called family and the man she loved had treated her as though she meant nothing.
Only one person had ever shown her genuine kindness. Xander Edwards. Brendan's father.
Brendan stood there, staring as Gemma walked away.
Ever since she returned to the Elliott family, she had always acted gentle and compliant. Around him, she had been quiet, careful, and eager to please. Never once had she spoken to him like this.
Once the shock faded, a mocking laugh escaped him.
"Interesting, Gemma," he muttered. "So this is the trick you're trying now? Throw a tantrum, then pretend you don't care? You really think this little performance will make me pay attention to you? Go ahead then. Let's see how long you can keep pretending."
...
At the Eighwell Command base, chaos had already taken over the entire compound.
"It's her! Death has returned!"
Inside the command center, people crowded every corner of the room. No one could tear their gaze from the massive screen up front. A single message filled the display.
"I'm back."
The post came from Death.
"Move aside!" Adrian Johnson forced his way through the packed crowd as he cleared a path.
A tall man in military boots stepped forward. Rhys Clarke moved with calm authority, his sharp eyes scanning the room while his presence carried discipline and command. He stopped in front of the screen.
Adrian spoke quickly, unable to hide his excitement. "Mr. Clarke, we've confirmed it. That account belongs to Death. It has been silent for six years. This time... she has really returned."
For a moment, Rhys did not respond. His eyes remained fixed on the location attached to the post. Olnstead.
His jaw tightened slightly. When he finally spoke, his voice turned cold. "Prepare immediately. Locate Death before the self-destruct sequence on those classified files activates."
"Yes, sir!"
Rhys's expression hardened. He pulled a cord from around his wrist. A bullet casing was tied to it.
For six years, he had kept it with him.
Death would soon return.
And the debt between them had waited long enough.
This time, he would not allow her to disappear from his world again.
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7.7
Not only was I drugged, blinded and assaulted. I was deceived into carrying a baby by a stranger I never knew. Then he appeared and took my child away.
I was sent to a militia by the father of my child. I thought I was rescued but I was recruited to be a weapon for killing. Who was manipulating me, I didn't know. The answers were far from what I knew.
Forced to blend into the world that I could never believe I would be to, a place where brutality reigned, kill or be killed was the only language. I have survived but he has to pay for everything he did to me, because I believed every phase of my life was set by him and him alone. Have I really survived?
Who would have thought, he existed twice in the same world? Do I really know who I should take revenge on? Him or the person I would sacrifice everything for?
Was my mother the one who orchestrated everything? What kind of pawn am I?
8.0
"IS IT TRUE?" Grayson's voice thundered through the room.
"Yes!" Tessa said softly. "Yes it is!"
"So you've been cheating on me, haven't you?" He spat.
Her hands trembled. "No, I swear, it's not like that."
He grabbed her arm, his grip bruising her wrist as she squealed in pain.
"Then whose baby are you carrying, huh?" His voice was ice cold.
Tessa shivered, tears blurring her vision.
"I don't know."
**********
Pregnant with the powerful Roman Blackwood's child, while engaged to his unstable stepbrother - Tessa Quinn becomes the key to a ruthless inheritance war where love has no place.
As secrets unravel and danger closes in, Tessa must protect her unborn child while trapped between love, vengeance, and men who want to own her fate.
9.8
After three agonizing months, I finally found my fiancé, Barnett Spencer, at a gala at The Plaza. He had vanished without a trace, and I was on the verge of losing my mind.
But when I saw him on stage, my blood turned to ice. He had a strange woman tucked into his arm, and a lawyer announced that a recent accident had erased the last six years of his memory-our entire relationship.
In front of a sea of reporters, Barnett looked right through me with freezing hostility.
"Miss, you have the wrong person."
He then declared that the woman beside him, Joslyn, was not only the person who saved his life but also his new, legal wife. The news hit me like a physical blow, and the camera flashes swallowed me whole as reporters shoved microphones in my face, asking how it felt to be publicly dumped.
The man I had loved for six years had turned me into a national joke, a delusional stranger trying to cling to his wealth.
That night, as I was drowning my humiliation in a martini, his ruthless younger brother, Dixon, found me. He slid a marriage contract across the bar.
"Marry me," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I want his shares. You want his pain. We both get what we want."
Fueled by alcohol and a burning need for revenge, I grabbed his pen and signed my name. I was no longer the abandoned fiancée. I was about to become my ex's worst nightmare: his new sister-in-law.
9.7
When Lucien Blackthorn ended his exile and returned to the Cold Ridge pack, he returned to clear his name.
And to take revenge on Corrigan Price.
And what better revenge was there than making her his mistress?
Corrigan didn't regret anything more than she regretted having to betray Lucien and his coming back only helped to enforce that feeling. When she became his mistress, she swore he would never have her heart.
As Lucien and Corrigan struggle with their inner conflicts, they also have to fight against external factors trying to pull them apart. Will they be able to embrace their love against all odds?
7.7
My husband, Hansford Burris, told me tonight was the most important night of his campaign. He handed me a glass of champagne, his face a perfect mask of concern, telling me to drink up so I could relax before meeting the "Shadow King" of D.C. who could secure his political future.
I didn't know the golden liquid was laced with a high-dose sedative and hallucinogens. He hadn't brought me to this luxury hotel to celebrate; he had brought me here to be sold, trading my body to a stranger in exchange for a seat of power.
In my past life, I trusted him. I drank the poison, woke up shattered, and spent the next five years being tormented by his abusive mother and publicly replaced by his mistress. I was eventually cornered and murdered by the very man I had supported with my family’s fortune, my death staged as a tragic accident to gain him sympathy votes.
To him, I wasn't a wife or a partner. I was just an "asset" with a shelf life, a merchant’s good to be traded away. As the life left my body, I couldn't understand how the man who promised to love me forever could watch me choke without a hint of regret.
Opening my eyes again, I was back in the St. Regis Hotel on October 14th, exactly five years ago. Hansford was standing there in his polished Armani suit, extending the same glass of drugged champagne toward me.
"Gina, darling? Are you alright? Here. Drink this. It will help you relax."
Looking at his handsome, lying face, I felt a cold clarity wash over me. I wasn't the naive rabbit he remembered. I took the glass, but I didn't swallow a single drop. This time, I was going to burn his world to the ground.
9.8
I was an unwanted foster kid taken in by the Goodwin family, about to marry into the wealthy Cantu family to secure my adoptive father's power.
But at my rehearsal dinner, my adoptive mother drugged my champagne, intending to have me assaulted and ruined.
The next morning, my fiancé and my sister burst into my hotel room with a swarm of reporters, pointing fingers in manufactured horror.
"You filthy whore! The engagement is over!"
My fiancé roared for the cameras, while my sister sobbed about my betrayal. They had brought the press to publicly slaughter me, justifying their own secret affair while my adoptive family cursed me as a disgusting stray.
For years, I had endured their toxic abuse, only to be thrown to the wolves so my sister could steal my life. They truly believed I was just a helpless pawn they could crush and discard.
But they didn't know I had anticipated their trap and deliberately walked into the bed of Dorian Underwood—the ruthless billionaire and the only man the Cantu family actually feared.
As I calmly hit 'send' to broadcast my fiancé's explicit sex tape to every reporter in the hallway, I met Dorian's dark, predatory gaze.
I wasn't just surviving anymore; I was going to tear both their empires to the ground.