The Reborn Duchess's Ruthless Revenge
I stood in the Royal Hall, clutching a glass of warm champagne while watching Senator Levine laugh. To the crowd, he was a pillar of the community; to me, he was the parasite who had already destroyed my life once.
In my past life, this gala was the night the monarchy began to bleed. Levine successfully planted his cameras, the Vance empire funded a coup, and the kingdom I loved was sold off to the highest bidder.
I lived through the consequences of my silence. I watched my sister, Seraphina, die in childbirth because the medical supplies were intercepted by traitors. I watched the man I loved, Duke Elliot, stripped of his titles and branded a criminal. I spent my final days in a damp, freezing cell, listening to the executioner sharpen his blade while the people cheered for our demise.
The injustice burned in my throat like lye. I died wondering how I could have been so naive, how I could have let these monsters walk among us while I played the part of a perfect, quiet wife.
Why did the gods let the wicked prosper while my family’s blood watered the palace gardens? What would I have given for just one chance to strike first?
Then, the world shifted. I opened my eyes to find myself back at the gala, the scent of sandalwood and rain surrounding me as Elliot rested a possessive hand on my back. I wasn't just a Duchess anymore; I was a ghost from a future that would never happen, and I was ready to erase every name on my list.
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Chapter 9
The Royal Palace smelled of beeswax and old power.
Julian sat in his wheelchair in the antechamber of the King's private study. He was wearing his dress uniform, the medals pinned to his chest clinking softly every time he breathed.
Duke Elliot stood behind him, his hand resting on the wheelchair handle.
"Remember," Elliot murmured. "The King is generous, but he is a merchant at heart. Everything has a price."
"I have my wallet ready," Julian said dryly, adjusting his glasses. He was nervous. His palms were sweating inside his white dress gloves.
The heavy doors opened.
King Edward sat behind a desk that was large enough to land a plane on. He didn't look up from the documents he was signing.
"Enter," the King said.
Elliot pushed Julian forward.
"Your Majesty," Julian said, bowing his head as best he could from the chair.
The King finally looked up. He had cold blue eyes that assessed Julian's value in seconds.
"Dr. Harris," the King said. "Or should I say, the man who saved my best General."
"I did what any soldier would do, Sire."
"Modesty is boring, Doctor," the King waved a hand. "You took a poisoned blade for a superior officer. That earns you a favor. Ask."
Julian took a deep breath. This was it.
"I request permission to marry Lady Imogen Sterling."
The King paused. He leaned back in his leather chair, steepling his fingers.
"The Sterlings," the King mused. "An old name. Impoverished. Disgraced by her father's gambling debts. Why her? You could have a Duchess. A man of your talent and your family's standing..."
"She saved my life in the desert," Julian said. He looked the King in the eye. "She is the only one I want."
The King studied him. For a moment, the mask of the monarch slipped, revealing a man who remembered what it was like to be young and foolish.
"Very well," the King said. "But the Duke is right. Everything has a price."
"Name it," Julian said.
"My mother," the King said, his voice dropping. "The Queen Mother. The Levine incident has left her... rattled. Her paranoia attracts parasites. I need a medical advisor in her wing. Someone I can trust. Someone whose loyalty isn't to the old guard, but to the future of this Crown."
Julian understood immediately. The King wanted a spy. He wanted someone to watch the Queen Mother, to ensure no more "Levine incidents" happened, and perhaps to monitor her political meddling.
"I would be honored to serve as the Royal Physician," Julian said.
"Good," the King stood up. "Then you have my blessing. Do it tonight. At the Gala. Give the people a show. They love a romance."
Julian and Elliot left the study.
As they rolled down the hallway, Elliot chuckled. "You just sold your soul to the devil for a girl."
"Worth it," Julian said. He checked his pocket. The ring box was there. The real one this time. A three-carat sapphire from the Powers vault.
They reached the entrance to the Grand Ballroom. The doors were open, spilling light and music into the corridor.
Imogen was waiting there. She was wearing a midnight blue gown that hugged her curves. She looked nervous, twisting a handkerchief in her hands.
When she saw Julian, her face lit up. It was like the sun breaking through clouds.
"Did it go okay?" she asked, rushing over.
Julian smiled. He reached out and took her hand.
"Better than okay," he said. "Ready to make a scene?"
Imogen laughed. "With you? Always."
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7.4
In a world ruled by dominance and desire, being an Omega is a curse, especially when you're mine.
On his eighteenth birthday, Luca wakes to a nightmare, his wolf has chosen the lowest rank of all. An Omega. The scent of submission, the mark of shame and the kind of wolf others own, use, and discard.
But Luca isn't broken, he's burning and the only one who's ever made him feel safe is Rafe, his best friend, his protector and his temptation.
Then Rafe shifts and becomes an Alpha and their wolves recognize each other, the bond between them is instant, magnetic, and utterly forbidden.
Because an Alpha claiming a Male Omega?
That's forbidden, but this Omega? He's different
Now their connection is more than a secret, It's a sin to their world, a deadly craving, slow, delicious and primal to fall into.
And when one bite can seal a bond or spark a war, how long can they resist it?
He's not supposed to want him.
But gods, he does.
And once an Alpha touches what's his... he never lets go.
8.4
I worked three double shifts at the garage just to buy a velvet-boxed cake for my wealthy girlfriend, Arleen.
But when I pushed open the VIP room door, I saw her lover kissing her bare leg.
She didn't push him away. Instead, she laughed and swirled her martini.
"I only forgot Finn because I knew he would stay. He is a poor boy from Queens who follows me around like a loyal dog."
Later that night, her lover intentionally crashed a Porsche to scare me, sending a piece of jagged metal into my skull.
Lying in a growing pool of my own blood, I watched Arleen crawl out of the wreckage.
She didn't even look at me. She threw herself at her uninjured lover, screaming for a medic.
"He just got scraped by a piece of plastic. He is faking it. Deal with Jaquez first!"
When I woke up, I wasn't free. Arleen had locked me in a private hospital wing with 24-hour security, planning to isolate me and keep me as her broken, captive toy forever.
My blind, pathetic devotion finally froze into absolute disgust.
I looked at the heart monitor next to my bed and grabbed an IV needle.
I severed the sensor wire to trigger a flatline, slipped out the fire stairs while the nurses panicked, and burned my identity to ashes.
This time, I was going to disappear to London, build my own empire, and watch hers burn.
9.3
Born into privilege, Eleanor never imagined her life could shatter in a single night. Then her father disappeared with his mistress, her mother fell from a building and slipped into a coma, and everything she once owned turned to dust.
Determined not to ruin Jonathan's future with her family's disgrace, she ended their relationship and became the bride of a man trapped in a vegetative state.
She believed that was the last time their paths would cross. But two years later, Jonathan pinned her in the dark and whispered, "Long time no see, my sister-in-law."
7.5
Raven Noir, stolen and sold at birth, a lethal assassin scarred by a decade-old rape, infiltrates billionaire Damien Blackwood's elite nightclub empire as stripper, her cover to get close enough to torture and kill the man who unknowingly fathered her daughter. Damien, captivated by her icy control and commanding presence, pulls her deeper with lucrative nights and charged intimacy. But when he encounters her identical twin, the buried memories flood back. Mistaking the twin for his victim, guilt drives him to propose marriage. Devastated, Raven faces an impossible choice: expose the truth, seize her revenge, or let obsession destroy them all in a dark, slow-burn thriller of betrayal and forbidden desire.
8.4
"Are you going to treat me like the enemy?" Raffaele asked, hovering over me like a predator.
"You are the enemy," I sneered.
He smiled. "Careful. You're hurting my feelings."
"I hope I can hurt much more than that."
His eyes darkened. "You forget-I'm the one who can break you."
I vowed never to give my heart to a man. Never let one bend me. Never let one own me.
Then a single night changed everything.
When my best friend became a target, I took her place and caught the attention of the most dangerous man in the city. Raffaele, My friend's older brother, wasn't supposed to see me. We were never meant to meet but the moment his eyes locked on mine, I became his new obsession.
I don't bend and he doesn't let go.
Suddenly caught up in a world of blood and power, resisting a man like Raffaele might cost me everything...heart, body, and soul.
He wants me, dead or alive.
7.1
For ten years, my family kept me locked away, forcing me to play the part of a broken, mentally unstable girl. They controlled me with sedatives and treated me like a ghost in my own home, a prisoner in a gilded cage.
But I had a secret. I was a world-famous anonymous artist with a hidden fortune, and I had an escape plan. On the day of my cousin's wedding, my rebellion was accidentally witnessed by a dangerous stranger who saw the predator beneath my fragile mask.
To silence him, I dragged him into a dark closet. The encounter turned raw and reckless, a violent collision I used as the perfect cover for my escape. I vanished with a new name and a one-way ticket to a new life, leaving him with nothing but a bloodstain and the bitter taste of betrayal.
I thought I was free, that I had successfully buried the girl I was forced to be and the man I was forced to use.
Three months later, on a superyacht in Monaco, he found me. He wasn't just some wealthy guest; he was the ruthless head of a powerful crime syndicate, and I was trapped in his private penthouse. He locked the door, his eyes black with possessive rage.
"The game is over," he whispered. "This time, you're not running."