

Gabriel Reeds returns home a war hero, the general who shattered the southern enemy and unified the nation. The homecoming lasts about five minutes. His sister has been violated, his mother left gravely wounded, and the men responsible have powerful friends in very high places. Armed with an imperial gold medallion and a fury that doesn't cool, Gabriel storms the local courthouse and keeps going, pulling at a thread that unravels a conspiracy stretching from corrupt county officials all the way to the capital,where pension funds meant for fallen soldiers have been quietly stolen. The Emperor's brother-in-law hits back hard. Gabriel hits harder.With the Empress's backing, he dismantles the rot from the bottom up, for his family, for the dead, and for every soldier who bled for a country that then abandoned their kin.

The zombie apocalypse breaks out, and Frank Parker dies in betrayal. Fate grants him a second chance. This time, he wakes bound to the Maid Collection System, a power that lets him recruit and form deep bonds with exceptional women who become the core of everything he builds. He assembles his people, establishes a fortified base, and takes his revenge on those who sold him out, rising from the absolute bottom toward something that looks increasingly like kingship. A lightning ability and a mech suit keep him alive in the field; genuine bonds of loyalty keep the base alive from within. As a catastrophic tide of the dead and a hidden orchestrator both close in at once, Frank leads his growing legion toward a throne over whatever world comes next.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.