Who Sings Wap

When my son was born, I noticed a small, round birthmark on his arm. But the weird thing? By the time I opened my eyes again after giving birth, it was gone. I figured maybe I'd imagined it. That is, until the baby shower. My brother-in-law's son, born the same day as mine, had the exact same birthmark. Clear as day. That's when it hit me. I didn't say a word, though. Not then. I waited. Eighteen years later, at my son's college acceptance party, my brother-in-law stood up and dropped the truth bomb: the "amazing" kid I'd raised was theirs. I just smiled and invited him and his wife to take their "rightful" seats at the table.

After being reborn, the first thing my cousin and I did was switch grooms. In our previous lives, we had gotten married on the same day. She, gentle and composed by nature, became the wife of Blake Malcolm, the aloof naval commander. On their wedding anniversary, Blake skipped the occasion to celebrate his childhood friend's birthday. My cousin had only wanted an explanation, but Blake claimed his conscience was clear. They fell into a silence that lasted fifty years. And me? With my temper—quick to fight, never one for patience—I had married an accountant from the machinery plant's compound. The accountant was soft-spoken, forever complaining about how loud I was, and how little I cared about appearances. We fought every three days, major arguments every five. Eventually, he stopped coming home. Less than a year into the marriage, we divorced. Then one day, my cousin and I opened our eyes and found ourselves young again—and it was the day we were to marry. Again.

When I woke up, I had somehow become trapped in the body of my disobedient daughter. I had sacrificed everything, living frugally to send her to the best school. Yet, she called me almost daily, claiming—like someone trapped in a paranoid delusion—that her teachers and classmates were out to harm her. She was willful and rebellious, picky about food, befriending the wrong crowd, and even dating a troublemaker at a young age. As a sister, she was far from kind, constantly bullying her younger brother. And school? Surely, it couldn’t be harder than working a full-time job. But then, as I lived in her shoes, a group of girls cornered me in the restroom, kicking me mercilessly. Returning home, I was met not with care but with a sorry excuse for a meal. Only then did I begin to understand the pain my daughter had endured...

Raised in a quiet village, she grew up as an ordinary girl, or so everyone thought. Switched at birth with the wealthy family’s true daughter, she was only reclaimed by her birth parents at eighteen, a stranger in the opulent world she was born into. Rumors paint her as the “evil sister,” and few know her true talents, she’s a hidden protégé of a renowned jewelry designer, a masterful street racer, and a girl with a photographic memory who tops the class she started at the bottom. Then she’s handed over as the substitute bride to the wheelchair bound heir of the wealthiest family, whose own arranged fiancée, the girl who took her place at birth, refused him. He sees her as a pawn in their families' game. But on their wedding night, her quick wit and unexpected spark shatter his expectations when she teases, “Keep me happy, or I’ll let everyone know your legs are just fine.” Intrigued and captivated, he’s soon swept up in her unpredictable world of secrets, talents, and a charm that’s anything but tame. What begins as a marriage of convenience turns into a whirlwind romance as he discovers his "accident bride" may just be the love he never knew he needed.

Elara is a single mom who struggles to survive in the cruel werewolf world. Yet, a twist of fate connects her destiny to Alpha Alaric. Alpha Alaric Donovan, the head Alpha, is a charming business tycoon. When She finds out her daughter was switched at birth with Alpha Alaric's kid 6yrs ago. He takes her to his mansion and throws a document at her to sign. Her: No, I won't leave my child... wait, a marriage contract??

During a kindergarten parent-teacher conference, a rich wife accuses me of stealing her bag. I'm baffled. I bought the bag myself abroad, and it even has my name etched on it. However, when I scrutinize the bag, I discover that my name is missing. I call my husband, and he impatiently says, "I gave your bag to Jen. She's fresh out of college and needs an expensive bag to make herself look good. Even Finn said the bag is too young for you—it suits Jen more. You're too old for these things. You should be glad to even have a fake one." I bark out an exasperated laugh. I can go without having a husband, but the bag has to be returned to me.