Best Horror Novels

When a dead man appears at his father's birthday party, the Ashbourne family's perfect facade shatters. Elias Ashbourne was buried twenty years ago, yet here he stands, remembering everything they tried to forget. As he unearths their darkest secret, the family insists he's an imposter. But the truth is far worse: Elias isn't the boy who died, he's the thing that crawled out of his grave seeking revenge.

Elara Vex had everything-a flawless ice core, the title of prodigy, and a place at the pinnacle of the High Tower. But in one brutal night, it was all ripped away. Her mentor tore the core from her chest. Her fiancé drove a sword through her back. Her own sister smiled as she bled out on the cold marble floor. When Elara wakes, she's years in the past, mere hours before her core is scheduled to be stolen. This time, she won't be anyone's sacrificial lamb. She shatters her own core with forbidden blood magic and forges something far more terrifying in its place-a bottomless, ravenous Chaos Core that devours magic itself. Now, branded a worthless cripple and cast into the deadly Abyss, Elara is pulled from the darkness by the outcasts of Elysium Academy-a school for heretics, psychopaths, and everything the Tower despises. Under the tutelage of a reclusive principal who knew her murdered mother, Elara will master her forbidden power and uncover the Tower's darkest secrets. When the Five Academies Ranking Tournament arrives, Seraphina Vex stands in the arena, draped in white saintess robes, ready to claim ultimate glory. She doesn't know that a ghost from her past has clawed her way back from hell. She doesn't know that Elara is coming-and this time, the prodigal sister isn't asking for mercy. She's bringing chaos.

My debt-ridden uncle sold me to the Romero mafia family to save his own skin. I was forced to marry Emiliano Romero, a man known to the underworld as "The Ghost"—a rumored monster who supposedly tore his last two caretakers apart. My aunt and cousin delighted in my misery. My cousin came at me with a razor, leaving a nasty bruise on my face, while my aunt bleached my hair to make me look like a cheap, disposable doll. When the Romeros arrived, they didn't even pretend to want a daughter-in-law. "The Family needs a nobody whose death won't start a police report." They just wanted a clueless victim to sign a pre-nup and die quietly. They shoved me down a sterile hallway and locked me inside a fortified, padded cell with a man wrapped in heavy chains. They all thought they were sacrificing a helpless, terrified lamb to a madman. They laughed at my tears, completely convinced I was just gutter trash waiting to be slaughtered. But they had no idea I was a highly trained undercover operative. Listening to their arrogant whispers, the pieces finally clicked. Emiliano wasn't a deranged killer—he was a prisoner being drugged and framed by his own blood. I drained my uncle's bank account to buy a neurotoxin antidote, dropped my pathetic, trembling disguise, and stepped calmly into the monster's cage. I wasn't here to be their victim. I was here to save him.

My family and fiancé begged me to donate my last remaining kidney to my twin sister, Kyleigh. They didn't know I was already dying. My fiancé, Axel, gave me an ultimatum. "Donate the kidney, or I'll break our engagement and marry Kyleigh. It's her dying wish." I agreed, only for them to frame me for plagiarism with my own thesis, forcing me to confess on camera. They never knew I was the one who secretly saved our father with my other kidney five years ago-a sacrifice Kyleigh had stolen all the credit for. As they wheeled me into the operating room, they celebrated with Kyleigh, promising her a future built on my death. I was already a ghost to them. But I died on the table. The surgeon, seeing the old surgical scar and the poison riddling my body, walked out to face them. "This wasn't a donation," she announced, her voice cold as steel. "This was murder."

I survived five years of hell as a captive in a Middle Eastern warzone and finally made it back home to my husband. But when I stood at the gates of our estate, I found him married to another woman, holding a five-year-old daughter. The timeline meant he had betrayed me long before I ever deployed. Worse, he had declared me legally dead and secretly drained my family's massive trust fund. When I demanded answers about my parents, he coldly told me they had burned to death in a highly convenient fire. He then had me strapped to a hospital bed, letting his new wife humiliate me as a delusional mistress. To maintain his perfect Wall Street image, he offered to buy me a hidden apartment to live as his secret whore. I was legally a corpse, stripped of my identity, my family, and my dignity. But what tortured me most wasn't his betrayal—it was how perfectly timed my disappearance had been. How did the terrorists know my exact classified route? In the freezing rain, the mercenary who had held me captive suddenly appeared and delivered a chilling truth. "You were betrayed by your own people. Someone at your hospital sold your GPS coordinates." Staring at my dead colleague's bloodstained notebook, the horrifying realization hit me. It was my beloved mentor. They thought I was just a dead doctor. Now, I am going to tear their entire empire to the ground.

I spent months crafting the perfect disguise to infiltrate the ultra-wealthy Brooks family by dating the younger heir, Cason. I even underwent a painful surgery to fake my physical innocence. But the moment I stepped into his penthouse, I ran straight into the one man who haunted my worst nightmares: his ruthless older brother, Jackson Brooks. Five years ago, Jackson's family tied me to a cold medical table and brutally ripped my unborn child from my womb because they didn't allow bastards to be born. Now, Jackson recognized me instantly. He cornered me in the dark, bit my ear until it bruised, and threw my confidential medical files in my face. "Leave Cason, or I will personally destroy every single thing you care about," he hissed. He thought his billions could buy my silence and erase the agonizing screams of my past. He thought I was just a pathetic con artist trying to steal their trust fund. He didn't know the innocent, terrified girl act was just bait. Standing on the edge of the highway bridge, watching the invincible billionaire tremble in pure terror at the memory of my fake suicide from five years ago, a cold smile curved my lips. My revenge had officially begun, and I was going to tear his empire apart piece by piece.

I spent ten years living in a rusted trailer in Upstate New York, enduring the stench of stale cigarettes and the Millers' constant abuse. They called me a useless leech and a parasite, never realizing I was simply a top-tier operative known as "Ghost" waiting for the signal to return to my real life. The breaking point came when the Millers threw my muddy duffel bag into the dirt and shrieked at me to get out. As I walked away, a massive explosion leveled their home behind me, and a black Rolls-Royce Phantom pulled up to the curb. A man in white gloves opened the door and addressed me as "Miss Vance," announcing that my billionaire parents were finally waiting for me. But my homecoming was far from a fairytale. My biological mother was dying of heart failure, and my cousin Victoria publicly humiliated me, calling me "trailer trash" and mocking my lack of education. To make matters worse, I was forced into an engagement with Julian Sterling, a ruthless CEO who despised the idea of marrying a "charity case" like me. No one knew that the "meek" girl they pitied was leading a double life. While Victoria tried to shame me at dinner parties, I was busy infiltrating elite clubs in tactical bodysuits and stealing encrypted drives from Russian arms dealers. I had to play the role of the helpless, boring daughter while my own fiancé hunted the mysterious thief who had pinned him against a wall and kissed him breathless in the shadows. I thought my cover was perfect until Julian's grandmother collapsed on Fifth Avenue in full cardiac arrest. While the crowd stood paralyzed, I broke protocol and used a forbidden "Ghost Needle" technique to bring her back from the dead before vanishing into the crowd. That evening, Julian watched the viral footage of the miracle rescue, his eyes narrowing as he recognized the "uneducated" girl he was forced to marry. He realized the boring woman sitting across from him at dinner was the same dangerous operative who had outsmarted him at the club, and the hunt for the truth had finally hit home.

I was just a cleaner making fifteen dollars an hour, scrubbing floors to hide from a past that haunted me. But when I walked into a billionaire's pristine penthouse, the suffocating visions hit me again. I saw a woman brutally murdered in a room that had been bleached spotless. I called 911, and that brought the one man I had spent three years running from right to my door: NYPD Captain Kelvin O'Brien. The patrol cops wanted to lock me up because I found the hidden blood too fast. To avoid a psych ward, I had to pretend my horrific supernatural visions were just brilliant deductive logic. I had to physically endure the phantom sensation of the victim's throat being crushed and poison burning her stomach. All while Kelvin cornered me, demanding to know why I abandoned him and my title as the department's greatest asset, "The Oracle." I didn't want to look at dead bodies anymore. I didn't want to feel their agonizing deaths. Why couldn't they just let me disappear? But when the victim's wealthy husband walked into the precinct with a smug smile, ready to get away with murder, I couldn't stand it. I forced myself to relive the victim's dying moments, guiding Kelvin to cut open her decomposed stomach to find the diamond ring she had swallowed. "We have your blood inside her stomach." His perfect alibi was shattered. But when we found an underground syndicate token hidden in his wallet, I knew my quiet life was over.

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband's Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn't find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn't even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father's legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn's party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara's health and managing every detail of Caden's empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I'd drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause-if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I'd forgotten.

I was the orphaned "parasite" of the Tyler family, taken in only to be abused for fifteen years after my parents died in a tragic car crash. To finally escape their control, I sold my first time to my ruthless billionaire boss, Ellsworth Mosley, for one million dollars. I thought it was a clean transaction. But the next morning, covered in severe bruises he left on me, I was handed a brutal contract with a fifty-million-dollar penalty. He didn't just buy my silence; he bought me. My nightmare only worsened when my adoptive family found out about my connection to the billionaire. Instead of disgust, they invited me to a hypocritical family dinner. "Talk to Mosley, convince him to invest in our failing business," my adoptive father demanded shamelessly. His son, who had tormented me for years, even grabbed my hand. "Do this, and we can be officially engaged. You'll finally be a real Tyler." They wanted me to whore myself out to save the family that had treated me like a stray dog. I shattered my wine glass, cursed them to go bankrupt, and walked out into the rain. As I reached the door, my phone vibrated with a terrifying summons from Ellsworth. But it was the panicked whisper behind me that froze my blood. "She knows about the brakes on her parents' car. If anyone finds out what we did, we'll go to prison." They murdered my parents. I gripped my phone, accepting the devil's call. Since I was already bound to a monster, I would use his power to drag them all to hell.

For seven years, I was the secret wife of Chandler Roberson, a rising political star. I sacrificed my own journalism career to be his "rock," the ghost in the background of his perfect life, always believing his promise that it was all for us. That promise shattered the night he brought his mistress, Britni, to our home. She took one look at me, then threw herself down the stairs, letting out a theatrical scream. "She pushed me!" she cried. Chandler didn't hesitate. He slapped me across the face, his eyes blazing with a rage I'd never seen. "You bitch! What did you do?!" he snarled, rushing to her side. He cradled her in his arms, his face a mask of concern for her and pure hatred for me. He believed her instantly, ready to paint me as a violent, jealous monster to protect his affair and his career. In that moment, watching him choose her, watching my life crumble under his cold, indifferent gaze, the woman who had loved him for twenty years died. But then I was back. Reborn in that same moment, with the memory of his betrayal burning in my soul. And I remembered the one thing he'd forgotten: the hidden camera in the entryway, recording his perfect crime.

I died on a Tuesday. It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father. I was twenty years old. He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him-my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit-watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant. He chose her. He always chose her. And then, I woke up. Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for. This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London-an exile disguised as a severance package-I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice. He didn't know he was talking to a ghost. He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal. He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder. That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry. She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts. So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie. I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane. But I will not be a victim. This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter. This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain.

I, I'm Lila. My mate Peter branded our pup a bastard after a rigged moon blood test, driven by Freya's lies. Haunted by a past life's betrayal, I fled to the Lunar Maternity sanctuary, only to uncover Peter's affair with Freya. Worse: my mother-in-law, Eden, hoarded my clothes and drugged me-turns out, he's a hermaphrodite who forced himself on me, fathering the pup...

I woke up suffocating in the dark, only to find my mind trapped inside a tiny, plump, and entirely uncoordinated body. A cold, mechanical voice echoed in my brain, announcing that I was dead in my original world and had transmigrated into a corporate revenge novel as the six-month-old illegitimate daughter of Edward McClure, the story's ruthless villain. The system mercilessly outlined my doomed fate. Tonight, my cold-blooded father would abandon me to a state orphanage. By age two, he would officially sign my rights away, leaving me to die miserably at the hands of human traffickers. Outside my nursery, I could hear his terrifying footsteps approaching, his voice devoid of any human warmth as he debated throwing me out like garbage. I was completely helpless, trapped in a baby's body, staring up at a man who looked at me with pure, visceral disgust. Why did I have to be reborn as the tragic cannon fodder of a tyrant destined to put a bullet in his own head? How was I supposed to win over a severe germaphobe when my unequipped infant reflexes made me literally pee and vomit all over his pristine Tom Ford suits? "Your ultimate mission is to prevent Edward McClure's self-destruction. Step one: Survive tonight's abandonment crisis." Hearing the system's terrifying ultimatum, I swallowed my adult panic, forced a pool of pitiful tears into my large eyes, and reached my chubby little hands toward the monster.

The forest has always been Jackline's only home. She doesn't remember the palace she was born to, the parents who once held her, or the kingdom that cried for a stolen princess. All she knows are the crumbling stones of an abandoned castle hidden deep in the woods, the whisper of leaves, the growl of distant beasts, and the cold reality of surviving alone. By day, Jackline hunts, forages, and explores the shattered halls of the castle swallowed by ivy and moss. By night, she curls up under broken rafters and stares at the moon, wondering if anyone, anywhere, is looking for her... even though she's certain the answer is no. The world beyond the forest might as well be a myth. No one has ever come for her. No one has ever stayed. Until the wolf. One fateful day, while tracking signs of wounded prey, Jackline doesn't find a deer or a boar, but a massive black wolf sprawled in the roots of an ancient tree. Its fur is stained with blood, its breathing shallow, its silver-gray eyes blazing with pain and something disturbingly close to human awareness. Every instinct tells her to run. A cornered predator is dangerous. A wolf this big is deadly. But Jackline recognizes the loneliness in its eyes. The fear of being left to die. It mirrors the ache buried deep inside her own chest. Ignoring her fear, she uses everything the forest has taught her-herbs, makeshift bandages, secret paths-to drag the heavy creature back to her ruined castle. There, in a forgotten servant's corridor, she creates a shelter. Day after day, she cleans its wounds, grinds healing plants, and whispers calm words to a creature that could end her life in a heartbeat. The wolf snaps and growls, but it never truly harms her. Slowly, it begins to trust her. When the wolf finally stands again, strong and steady, Jackline expects it to vanish into the trees without a backward glance. Instead, it follows her. Silent as a shadow, the wolf becomes her constant companion. It pads at her side when she searches for berries, keeps watch when she sleeps, and nudges her hand when her thoughts become too dark. Jackline learns to speak her thoughts out loud-to the forest, to the castle, and to the wolf with the haunted eyes. She tells it her fears, her questions, and the strange emptiness she feels when she thinks about her past. The wolf never answers, but somehow, it feels like it understands. For the first time in her life, jackline isn't truly alone. But the forest keeps its secrets tightly wound, and this wolf is one of them. Everything changes under the full red moon. Jackline has seen full moons before: pale and silver, gentle and distant. But this one climbs into the sky like a burning ember, staining the forest in crimson light. The air grows tense and electric; the castle feels suddenly awake, like it's holding its breath. That night, the wolf could rest. It paces, muscles tight, eyes brighter than she's ever seen them. There's something wild and barely contained inside him, something both terrifying and beautiful. When jackline reaches out to soothe him, he pulls away with a look that almost breaks her-one filled with sorrow and dread, as if he has been waiting for this moment and wishing it would never come. Under the blood-red moon, the wolf begins to change. jackline can only watch as bone and muscle twist, fur ripples and sinks beneath skin, and the creature she nursed back to life reshapes into something new. Something impossible. When the transformation ends, the wolf is gone. In his place lies a young man with dark hair, pale skin marked by faint scars, and the same silver-gray eyes that once watched her from a wolf's face. He is human. And he's not. He looks at her like he's been waiting his whole life to be seen. He knows her name. From that moment, Jacline's world fractures. The young man-her wolf-reveals a truth she never imagined. He is cursed, bound to the red moon, doomed to live as a wolf most of the time and return to human form only when blood stains the sky. Hunted by men, feared by sorcerers, and rejected by both humans and beasts, he is trapped between two worlds, never fully belonging to either. But he is not the only one living in a story shaped by magic and betrayal. The wolf's curse, he explains, is tied to old magic that once protected a powerful royal bloodline. A bloodline that ruled the kingdom beyond the forest. A bloodline that vanished the day a newborn princess was stolen from her cradle and never found. The day Jackline disappeared. Piece by piece, the life she thought she knew crumbles. The ruined castle she calls home is more than a random shelter-it once housed the loyal guardians of the royal family. The forest is not just a wild, dangerous place-it's a barrier of living magic, hiding her from those who would use or destroy her. Jackline is not simply a forgotten girl who happened to survive.

When her mother's medical bills threaten to destroy her family, Flora Bennett accepts billionaire Harris Kingston's shocking proposal: marry him for one year, and he'll pay every debt. But Flora soon discovers her husband isn't who he claims to be-and the women before her have vanished without a trace. Now trapped in a deadly game of identity and deception, Flora must uncover the truth before she becomes the next victim of a psychopath's twisted obsession.

My mate, Theron, was a powerful Alpha, and I, a scentless Omega, was his greatest prize. But beneath his adoring facade was a terrifying, possessive monster, revealed when he dragged me home and forced me into our bed after I was late to his challenge match. His golden eyes burned with chilling control, and he whispered a threat that turned my blood to ice. I'd been stuck on a forest road, my truck dead, racing to reach his challenge match. His mate bond panic had already frayed my nerves, but nothing prepared me for his rage. He'd publicly broken his opponent's shoulder, then stalked directly to me, ignoring the crowd. He marked my lateness with chilling precision, before dragging me away to our rooms for "punishment." Later, as he tried to force a ceremonial marking pendant on me, he promised, "If you will not accept my mark willingly, then I will wait for your Heat. I will fuck you until your body begs for it, and my wolf will hold you down while I bite." My gaze fell on his open journal, filled with frantic, scrawled words: "SHE IS MINE. PUNISH. CLAIM. MARK HER. BREED HER. MAKE HER UNDERSTAND SHE IS MINE. MINE. MINE." The man I loved, my only protection, was a captor in disguise, his devotion a gilded cage. Every gentle touch, every soft word, now felt like a brand of ownership, a tightening leash. The terrifying truth of his pathological obsession finally hit me. A fragile plan formed in the space between heartbeats: I would de-escalate, redefine, and survive, no matter the cost, before his possessive madness consumed me entirely.

My mother had been dead for four years, and my father, the Alpha of our pack, was now a hollow shell controlled by his new wife, Marley. I was a ghost in my own home, watching from the shadows as they celebrated a wedding that felt more like my execution. During the reception, Marley cornered me and demanded my mother's last heirloom-a blood-red ruby-to pay off her family's secret gambling debts. When I refused, her guards pinned me down, and in the struggle, the ancient stone hit the marble floor and shattered into a thousand jagged pieces. Framed for grand larceny by my own stepmother, I fled to a dive bar and sought refuge with Caleb Sterling, a rival Alpha who radiated power and danger. We spent a night of soul-shattering passion that I was certain was our mate bond, but the next morning, he tossed an envelope of cash at me and called me a high-end escort. When the police arrived to arrest me, he simply stepped aside and watched them drag me away in handcuffs, cold and indifferent to my screams. "Do what you have to do," he had told the officers, his eyes devoid of any warmth. I was a fugitive, stripped of my title, and discovered I was carrying Caleb's child-a baby cursed by his bloodline to never survive the womb. I couldn't understand why my father had abandoned me to a monster, or why the man I was destined for had sold me out just to save his own reputation. After a brutal ambush that left my only friend in a burning wreck, I stood at the border of the forbidden North. I clutched the jagged shards of my mother's ruby and looked the Northern Warlord in the eye, ready to trigger a war that would burn my father's legacy to the ground.

For six years, I endured my husband David's family shaming me for my barren womb. I went through countless painful fertility treatments, clinging to his promises that we would one day have a child. Then I saw the picture on his secret social media: David, his arm around my "wellness coach," Briana, her belly round with their "little miracle." The confrontation was a nightmare. Briana shoved me, and I was left bleeding on the floor as David rushed her to the hospital. Later, my own family told me to accept the affair for the sake of my brother's medical bills, which David's family paid. David even slapped me for daring to call Briana a liar. But the true horror came in a message from Briana. She gloated that David had been sabotaging my treatments all along. He had made me believe I was broken, just so he could replace me. My hope turned to ice. I found them celebrating in a hotel suite. As David reached for me, I met his terrified gaze and threw myself down the grand staircase. My life was over, and I was taking them down with me.

One million dollars for one hundred days. For Elena, a street-smart girl facing a mountain of debt, the offer from the mysterious Vance empire sounds like a miracle. The job is simple: use a high-tech "neural sync" to impersonate Lira, the beloved sister of tech-tycoon Alexander Vance, for a series of high-profile events. But as the contract progresses, the "handshake" between their minds turns into a stranglehold. Elena begins to see memories that aren't hers. She feels a hunger for power that belongs to a dead woman. When the synchronization hits a lethal 99%, the terrifying truth emerges: Elena wasn't hired to be a mimic. She was brought to be a biological host. With a ghost clawing for control of her brain and a cold, brooding corporate assassin, Alexander, watching her every move, Elena must navigate a web of digital hauntings and billionaire secrets. From the neon streets of London to a high-stakes explosion in Malta, she has one goal: Delete the ghost before the ghost deletes her.

To escape my psychopathic, controlling lover, I faked my death in a Syrian war zone. Thirty-seven reconstructive surgeries later, the terrified girl he kept locked in a basement was gone. I returned to New York as an untouchable neurosurgeon, Dr. Alivia Clay. I only came back to save his grandfather—the one man who helped me escape. I thought my flawless new face was the perfect armor. But the moment Collis Duncan saw me, he cornered me against the hospital wall. He didn't recognize my face, but he recognized my panic. He trapped me in his arms, inhaling the faint scent of vanilla and orange blossom on my skin. "You smell exactly like a ghost I used to know," he whispered. Worse, a traumatized, mute little boy with Collis's exact gray eyes stumbled into me in the hallway. The boy clutched my white coat and handed me a flashcard with a crude drawing of a woman. "Mama." My blood turned to ice. Five years ago, I was told my newborn baby burned to ashes in that medical tent. How could this boy be alive? Why did Collis have my son while I mourned a pile of dust? Now, Collis is ordering a microscopic background check, desperate to tear my fake life to the ground and cage me again. But I'm not running anymore. Once I finish this surgery, I'm taking my son back.

Embarking on the remnants and consequences of ancient wars, while a new world begins. When everyone is raised among the conspiracies of mafia families, magic and adventures through space. With the passages through dimensions, between time and space, between death and moments of life, that will take him beyond the beginning of life by encountering those who died, then returning, when Tsuki now solves all the problems, he is sought to resolve them, between looking for those people who fit that description, when thinking about their strengths, even those who were the most vivid. Tsuki is the greatest detective in the world, even though he is in the middle of his negotiations, his travels, even with the same trips he took at that time, informing that his secrets and mysteries, at that time, with each of his loves, now that he had great power. Even now, when he discovered when those who sought justice and revenge, the dead and their signs returned to the world of the living, sought his help, there was that time, part of him, part of his DNA, so since he always thought that she admired fairy tales, from horror to mysteries. Even though whoever dies before had no meaning, it doesn't mean he wasn't murdered, it means he wasn't found, what happened between the stakes, where he put everything there. In their journey through the planets, when Tsuki, a hero who went to meet Darkness, the sovereign of Akropolis, became involved in games of control. All of them are increasingly involved, amidst their plans to conquer the cosmos, expanding their power, towards several planets. Now, both Tsuki, who is a hero of a stellar organization, is involved in games of power and seduction, embarking on a game of power, control and intrigue, exploring the cosmos, amid tales where they are always playing with their bodies. In the midst of fighting in the galaxies and stars, everyone is immersed in a game of intrigue, pleasure amid plans of manipulation, control of the cosmos, a warm bed in the middle of a sweaty body, in battles for the galaxies. In which some time ago, with the arrival of a new power that is spreading towards other planets. It all begins with a plan to control the lord of the universe, in which someone who is an influential businessman, who embarks on a stellar adventure.

When I was being torn apart alive by starving dogs in an abandoned warehouse, my fiancé Forrest was drinking whiskey in our penthouse. I had called him begging for help when the serial killer cornered me, but he just yelled at me over the loud party music. "I never want to hear your voice again," he had snarled, before hanging up and leaving me to die. After my brutal death, my soul was dragged back to our shared home. I watched Forrest pull his new lover, Evelin, into his arms, letting her wear my clothes while my blood was still wet on the concrete. When the police showed him photos of my blood-soaked purse and the absolute carnage of the crime scene, he didn't shed a single tear. "She's faking it," he sneered to the detective. "She probably bought pig's blood to stage this little play just to force me to marry her." He completely erased five years of my devotion, reducing my horrific murder to a pathetic, jealous tantrum. I couldn't understand how he could be so cruel, abandoning me in the freezing rain while I was pregnant with his child just to comfort Evelin. But as my ghostly form floated above my own corpse, the terrifying truth finally hit me. Evelin hadn't just stolen my fiancé. She had deliberately dressed me in a floral gown, knowing it was the exact trigger for a local serial killer, and spoofed Forrest's phone to lure me into the trap. They think they have won, burying my existence under perfect lies. But as a dark, violent energy begins to pulse through my translucent hands, they are about to learn a terrifying lesson. A woman scorned is dangerous, but a murdered woman is a force of nature.

For six years, I was the obedient, pathetic girlfriend of Arron, the adopted heir to the terrifying Mayer empire. But on the night of a major party, he abandoned me for another woman, leaving me humiliated and alone in a hotel penthouse. While I was crying in the bathtub, a splitting headache suddenly unlocked a terrifying truth. I wasn't just a discarded girlfriend; I was living inside a scripted corporate thriller. I was the disposable side character destined to be crushed by the Mayer family, driven to despair, and drowned in the freezing Hudson River so Arron and his new love could have their happy ending. My destined ending was nothing but a joke to them. "When he gets bored and throws you out, you'll be worse than a stray dog." Arron's cruel warning echoed in my mind, but the phantom feeling of freezing water closing over my head completely burned away my pathetic love for him. Why did I have to die just to be a stepping stone for the man who threw me away like trash? I refused to be a tragic victim. Looking at the broken gold watch chain I had just ripped from the coat of Cassius Mayer—Arron's ruthless, untouchable billionaire father—a cold calculation took over. Since Arron wanted to ruin me, I was going to use the most feared man on Wall Street to tear their empire down from the inside.