Contos de Imagination sobre Bizarre e Romances com Mistress

I was a mermaid from the deep sea. Out of curiosity and playfulness, I was caught by a fisherman and endured unbearable torment. Just when I was on the brink of death, Trevon Chapman happened to pass by and saved me. So, I gave up my identity as a mermaid princess, left the ocean behind, and followed him into the human world. For five years after our marriage, Trevon granted my every wish and showered me with affection. I truly believed I had found a safe harbor I could depend on for the rest of my life—until fate struck with its cruelest blow. Trevon's childhood sweetheart had fallen gravely ill, and only a mermaid’s tail could save her. I begged him desperately, but he responded with chilling indifference. "You're only losing your legs. Corinne is losing her life. Are you really that heartless? You're just going to watch her die?" "Besides, you can’t return to the sea anymore. That tail means nothing to you now. From now on, I’ll be your legs." After the surgery, I sat in a wheelchair, running my hand over the empty fabric where my legs should have been, and calmly demanded a divorce. Trevon pulled Corinne into his arms, sneering. "You're neither human nor fish now—a monster. Without me, the only road left for you is death." Yet in the end, when I transformed back into a mermaid and leapt into the sea, his cries and desperate sobs echoed across the waves.

Buried deep in the Aster estate was the Heartwood—ancient, sacred, mine. Told my husband, Julian Aster—back when he actually listened—that if it ever fell, I'd die with it. At first, he freaked out. Flew in glacier water, hired a whole squad of plant experts to nurture it 24/7. Then one day, just because his childhood friend—Isabella Duvall—got a scratch from the bark, Julian had the Heartwood ripped out. The second it crashed, I choked on glowing blood—ichor. My power? Gone. Barely standing, I grabbed his arm. "You knew. If the Heartwood dies, I—" He laughed. Straight-up mocked me. "Sera, come on. That fairy tale? Only Grandma still believes that crap. Is that mayo on your mouth? Relax—it's a tree. I'll buy you a forest if you want." Overnight, my hair turned gray. Skin cracked. Eyes dulled. Still, I dragged myself to his grandmother, Henrietta. "I kept your family safe for two hundred years. That's why the Asters thrived. But the Heartwood's gone. Debt's paid. One day left. Whatever happens next? Not my problem."

The day I was supposed to win the biggest award of my career, I walked in on my boyfriend, Ethan, in bed with another woman. He sneered, calling me a face-blind, scent-deaf bore in bed. I planned to expose his ass at the award ceremony. Instead, he and his lover mowed me down with their car. Next thing I knew, I woke up with them in an S-class horror survival game. Mortality rate: over 95%. We had to survive ten days in a haunted manor to be revived. Hit 100 on your Anxiety Level, and your soul is obliterated. Chloe, Ethan's lover, sneered. "Sensory defects? You can't recognize ghosts or smell danger. In a horror game, that’s a death sentence. You might as well just die." The others heard her and scrambled to team up. Me? I walked straight into the lair of the manor's final boss. The most powerful demon in the game wanted to devour my soul. I couldn't really see him. I just thought he was a cosplayer. I lunged forward, poked his abs, and pointed at the glowing crack in his chest. "Wow, you're really committed to the role. This getup must've cost a fortune."