My Nobody Husband, The President's Brother

Last thing I remembered was pain, then cold, then nothing. I woke up back in my old bedroom, seventeen again, just months before senior year officially began. My heart pounded as I realized: a second chance. But the horror truly started when I walked into Northwood High and saw them: Mark Olsen and Tiffany Vance, draped over each other, flashing smug smiles that radiated pure evil. They caught my eye, and in their gaze, I saw it-not surprise, but chilling recognition. They knew. They were back too. Just like before, they immediately set out to ruin me, mocking my dream of MIT and launching a vicious smear campaign on an anonymous gossip forum, accusing me of cheating and mental instability. They thought their rebirth was a VIP pass to success, flaunting their "past life" knowledge and believing they were invincible. This wasn't some cosmic second chance just for me; it was Round Two, and they were playing dirty, again. My first life, they ruined it completely, watching triumphantly as my world crumbled, my scholarship lost, my future shattered. The humiliation, the years of struggle, ultimately leading to my death, flashed before my eyes. But that cold dread transformed into an unshakeable resolve. This time, I wouldn't break. This time, I would reclaim my destiny. Challenge accepted.

Sarah Miller, with her uncanny gift of foresight, was a sensation. Her "Sarah Sees" livestream, broadcast from her humble Vermont farmhouse, brought comfort and answers to thousands. She was a rising star, a rare and authentic voice in the world of online spiritual guidance. But then, out of nowhere, an old childhood acquaintance, Jessica Evans, appeared. "Mystic Jess," she called herself, launching a strikingly similar channel. Whispers of Sarah being a "copycat" began, subtly fueled by Jessica and an influential local figure, Alex Peterson. The online comments turned vicious, branding Sarah a "fraud" and "liar." Her followers evaporated, her income vanished. The local community, once supportive, grew cold, and the stress bled into her family's life. Then came the vandalism, spray-painted threats, culminating in a confrontation that tragically led to her father's fatal heart attack. I watched my family shatter, my life ruined, all by someone who seemed to mimic my every move, even my private thoughts, always one step ahead. How could Jessica know what I was about to say or do before I even did it? My own gift, once so clear, became a dark, confusing static whenever I tried to foresee anything about Jessica or my grim future. It made no sense. Crushed by grief and public scorn, wishing for an end to it all, I closed my eyes. A snap, a void, then a gasp. I opened them to find sunlight streaming through my old bedroom window, my laptop waiting-showing the exact date I launched my first livestream. I was back. And I wouldn't let it happen again.

My world was perfect. Top of my class, early acceptance to Yale, just days away from the SATs. Then, my stepsister Tiffany handed me a protein shake. I trusted her, drank it, and then – darkness. I woke up in a cheap motel, framed for cheating, test booklets scattered, my phone incriminating. Campus security, news cameras flashing. "Cheater!" the headlines screamed. Yale rescinded my admission, my furious father disowned me, and my popular boyfriend Chad, feigning support, was part of it all. Pregnant, isolated, my dreams shattered, I withered, looking ten years older than I was. Five years later, I overheard Chad boasting, chillingly: "Tiffany and I planned it perfectly. She needed Sarah gone – Valedictorian, Yale, the Miller inheritance. And Sarah? Served her purpose. Time to upgrade to Tiffany." The betrayal, so cold and absolute, utterly shattered me. I ran blindly into the street, and then – screeching tires. Nothing. A gasp. I sat bolt upright in my own bed, sunlight streaming through my window. My heart hammered, the nightmare vivid. I looked at my phone. Three days before the SATs. It was happening again. No. It was my second chance. This time, they wouldn't know what hit them.

The screech of tires was my familiar lullaby, echoing another broken bone, another shattered illusion. I was Sarah, the trophy wife, trapped in a gilded cage, enduring a curse of endless resurrections. My husband, Ethan, always attentive to his perfect Ashley, had just shoved me into the path of a speeding sedan. For her, of course. He didn't care that I lay mangled on the asphalt, only annoyed by the inconvenience, the mess. Ashley, his scheming mistress, later set a trap: a near-fatal allergic reaction, and then framed me to ensure my "dissection" at a remote research facility. They believed they were finally ridding themselves of me, sending me to a permanent end. But what they didn't know was my secret, my bitter hope: 99 deaths down, one to go. Each resurrection had chipped away at my soul, leaving only a hollow anticipation for the final, permanent end. This was it. The hundredth. The profound relief of true oblivion, of peace, washed over me as they led me away. I was finally free, not knowing that my truest liberation would come not from the permanent death I craved, but from a rebirth I never expected.

For ten years, I, Savannah Miller, foolishly adored Ethan Prescott, the golden boy of Prescott Global. Our families, titans of industry, were finally uniting through our marriage, a strategic play to bail out his crumbling empire – a dream come true, or so I thought. On our remote wedding night, Ethan suggested a "game." Blindfolded, I was subjected to an unspeakable horror, violated not just by him, but by his entire depraved crew, their laughter echoing as I became their brutalized toy. A month later, a tiny flicker of hope-I was pregnant. But that hope shattered when I found Ethan and his friends, openly betting on who was the father, each man recounting his "turn" with sickening glee. His sneer sealed my fate: I was threatened with the assault video and imprisoned in a steel panic room for eight torturous months, left to die alone during premature, unassisted childbirth, his triumphant boasts my last chilling memory. Utterly broken, betrayed beyond comprehension, I died knowing my entire existence had been a pawn in his savage game, fueled by a love that blinded me to the monster within. How could such a profound love turn into such a grotesque nightmare? Then, light. I woke up, gasping, back in my family's sunlit drawing-room. It was the very day of the merger. The day they came to finalize my marriage to Ethan. This time, I' m armed with the horrifying truth. This time, there will be no wedding.

As a scholarship recipient from the Harrison family, MIT grad Ava Chen built her career in their tech company, Harrison Innovations. Her groundbreaking AI project was poised to save their struggling empire, and tonight, at the Innovation Summit, she expected to be named CTO and celebrate her triumph. Instead, on stage, her husband, Ethan Harrison, embraced a visibly pregnant Brittany Miller, declaring her his partner and "the future of the Harrison family." My world shattered as Ethan, his face cold, publicly shamed my "career focus" over family, implying my infertility, while Brittany, his mistress, feigned sweetness. The board, including Ethan' s parents, dismissed my dire warnings about fiscal collapse, then allowed my mother-in-law to slap me, screaming, "You barren wrench! You deceived us!" Brittany, a bitter junior I barely remembered, then piled on lies, claiming I stole her AI and seduced professors just to get ahead. Ethan smashed my phone, destroyed my life's research, and forced me to sign papers, all while Brittany ground her heel into my hand. My career, my marriage, my reputation – all publicly executed. How could my entire life, built on dedication and gratitude, be so brutally annihilated by such cruel lies and baseless accusations? The injustice of it all, the sheer malice, left me frozen in disbelieving agony, consumed by an unbearable humiliation. As I lay broken, my shattered phone, miraculously, began to ring. It was Marcus Thorne, CEO of Thorne Dynamics, and his call was about to expose the Harrisons' true desperation and offer me an unlikely lifeline.

Forced out of a mental hospital by her family, Nicole was made to marry Aidan-reputed to be disabled-in her sister's place. The public ridiculed their union: a so-called lunatic and a cripple. What they didn't know was that Nicole had a sharp mind, countless talents, and secret identities. High society sneered at her unruly behavior, but Aidan always took her side. "My wife is too fragile to hurt anyone," he'd say. But soon- "Sir, your wife destroyed someone's house!" "Let her." "Sir, your wife ran away!" He arrived at the airport with two adorable kids in tow, pleading, "Sweetheart, come back. You can punish me however you want." Nicole froze. Wait-where did these two adorable little troublemakers come from?

Janet was adopted when she was a kid -- a dream come true for orphans. However, her life was anything but happy. Her adoptive mother taunted and bullied her all her life. Janet got the love and affection of a parent from the old maid who raised her. Unfortunately, the old woman fell ill, and Janet had to marry a worthless man in place of her parents' biological daughter to meet the maid's medical expenses. Could this be a Cinderella's tale? But the man was far from a prince, except for his handsome appearance. Ethan was the illegitimate son of a wealthy family who lived a reckless life and barely made ends meet. He got married to fulfill his mother's last wish. However, on his wedding night, he had an inkling that his wife was different from what he had heard about her. Fate had united the two people with deep secrets. Was Ethan truly the man we thought he was? Surprisingly, he bore an uncanny resemblance to the impenetrable wealthiest man in the city. Would he find out that Janet married him in place of her sister? Would their marriage be a romantic tale or an utter disaster? Read on to unravel Janet and Ethan's journey.

They don't know I'm a girl. They all look at me and see a boy. A prince. Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires. And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too. The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance. How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom? I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy. But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince." How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy? And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave? . AUTHOR'S NOTE. This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+ Expect triggers, expect hardcore. If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in! . From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave."

After being kicked out of her home, Harlee learned she wasn't the biological daughter of her family. Rumors had it that her impoverished biological family favored sons and planned to profit from her return. Unexpectedly, her real father was a zillionaire, catapulting her into immense wealth and making her the most cherished member of the family. While they anticipated her disgrace, Harlee secretly held design patents worth billions. Celebrated for her brilliance, she was invited to mentor in a national astronomy group, drew interest from wealthy suitors, and caught the eye of a mysterious figure, ascending to legendary status.

Katherine endured mistreatment for three years as Julian's wife, sacrificing everything for love. But when his sister drugged her and sent her to a client's bed, Katherine finally snapped. She left behind divorce papers, walking away from the toxic marriage. Years later, Katherine returned as a radiant star with the world at her feet. When Julian saw her again, he couldn't ignore the uncanny resemblance between her new love and himself. He had been nothing but a stand-in for someone else. Desperate to make sense of the past, Julian pressed Katherine, asking, "Did I mean nothing to you?"

"Mr. Evans, please maintain some dignity. Don't forget I'm your brother's wife!" Having caught her husband and best friend together in the bed, Elena wanted nothing more than to exact revenge on the people she once called family. She refused to be a pitiful divorcee and vowed to make everyone who had once looked down on her beg for forgiveness. And to start with her newfound freedom, Elena indulges in a one-night stand with a stranger. However, what was meant to be a fleeting escape turns into a nightmare when she learns that the stranger is none other than her husband's older brother! Would Elena be free from the shackles of her marriage? Or would the mysterious stranger make her life a living hell since he seemed to have a personal vendetta against his family? [The story is 18+ and involves mature content.]