Tragédie

Because I was a cheapskate, I rented a cheap apartment. The catch? Someone had died in it. The soundproofing of the house was bad, and I could hear my neighbor’s wife moaning every night. But my other neighbor told me that there was no one living in the apartment next to mine.

As the male lead, Henry Johnston, forces himself on me, a row of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "Henry is about to misunderstand and think Aria drugged him! The angst is about to begin!" "I'm thrilled just thinking about Henry regretting dearly after Aria dies!" "Keep up the act, Henry. After she dies, you'll be hugging her corpse and crying every day." That is when I realize that I am the tragic female lead in a story where I am destined to be tormented until I die. The readers treat my death as a highlight to push the plot forward. They are counting down to my death. As I look at Henry, who is panting on top of me, anger courses through me. I grab a table lamp and smash it into him, killing him on the spot. Who says that the one who dies in a toxic romance story must always be the female lead?

Diego has everything; he is a strong alpha leading one of the strongest packs on the continent, and he has a family that loves him unconditionally. However, no matter how many reasons he has, that unfortunate night never lets him be happy. He has tried to drown himself in work and exhaust himself in training to the extent that he was unable to move, but the pain he feels whenever glimpses of "that night" appear are the most agonizing moments of his life. To the world, he is "the hidden alpha," "the ruthless alpha," "the cruel alpha," but no one knows the truth behind those tags except his "addy" and her mate, "Ryan." Diego has a secret that he is unwilling to accept, and he will not reveal it to anyone, not even his mate (whom he has not found yet). Addy believes that once he finds his mate, his wounds will heal themselves automatically, but Diego dreads that moment because he knows that the fire burning inside him is enough to burn anyone who comes close to him. Arya is running...where? She doesn't know. She is running away from her past, her family, her reality, and her undeniable truth no matter how hard she tries. She has been running for five years now, and so far, she has even succeeded in getting away from their clutches, but she can't shake off the feeling that this will not be the case for much longer. However, there is one thing she is sure about: if she ever faces the situation where she is forced to live the life she lived for the first eighteen years of her life, she will kill herself. What will happen when fate throws these two broken souls together? Will their unhealed wounds ever heal?

Everyone in the underworld knew Rosalie Thorne, the "Thorn Principessa" of the North. Wild, rebellious, notorious. Street racing, high-stakes gambling, guns, and drinking, she had mastered them all. The rose-and-thorn tattoo on the nape of her neck drove countless men wild. But what they didn't know was that for Rocco, the new mob boss of the South, a single sentence, "I prefer a more obedient woman," was all it took. At his word, I had the tattoo lasered off and swapped my leathers for long, conservative dresses. I am Rosalie. For five years, I hid my identity and played the porcelain doll Rocco wanted. Until the night he eliminated all his rivals and was crowned the new Don of the South. That was when he let his men bow to another woman, hailing her as their "Donna." I watched Rocco. The same hands that had just executed a traitor were now gently placing a pair of red high heels on the feet of his adoptive sister, Vivian. "Rosalie, she has a temper. She'll make a scene if she doesn't get the title." "You're the good one, the obedient one. Just let her have this." That day, I walked straight out into the rain and never looked back. I was never truly obedient. I just made myself smaller for him. My family had already chosen a husband for me. They had been waiting five years, just for me to say yes.

A week before my death, my Alpha mate's childhood sweetheart Sarah returned to our pack. That night, he didn't come home. The next day, I received his mind-link. "I've purchased a mate-bond severing potion from the pack witch. Come home now so we can break our bond." In our pack, the Moon Goddess was very serious about mate bonds. Once two wolves chose to form a mate, the mate bond could not be severed, unless the witch's potion was used. This potion was very expensive, costing up to $500,000 per bottle. I smiled bitterly. He was very generous to sever the bond with me. I coughed twice before answering, "I'm in the healing center." His voice turned ice cold. "I don't care where you are. Even if you're about to die, you need to come back." I calmly replied, "Fine." He didn't know that I really was dying. Three years ago, during a rogue wolf attack, I blocked the silver dagger for him to protect him while he was unconscious. I was poisoned by silver and became weaker and weaker over the past three years. I only had one week left to live. On the day of my funeral, my mate was busy holding his marking ceremony with Sarah. Later, he knelt before my grave in pristine white ceremonial clothes, clutching my headstone and whispering through tears. "If there's another life after this one, I still want to marry you." That day was his marking ceremony with his childhood sweetheart. It was also my funeral.

El día que papá asistió a una fiesta con su ex y se volvió tendencia, todos se burlaban de mi mamá. Decían que había dejado atrás una gran carrera para entrar en una familia rica, pero después de treinta años seguía sin nombre ni lugar, sin siquiera el valor de reclamarle a la amante. Después de tanto llorar, mamá me miró cansada. —Él me falló primero, así que yo tampoco lo quiero. —Amanda, ¿te vas conmigo? Justo entonces sonó mi celular. Era un mensaje de mi novio de siete años: "Amanda, solo es un acta de matrimonio. ¿No podemos seguir como novios?" Guardé silencio unos segundos antes de asentir. Así fue que, el mismo día de su boda, mamá y yo desaparecimos entre las llamas de la mansión.

A story of a princess from a native tribe who chose to end the war by giving her hand for a marriage to a prince, an enemy of the tribe, who vowed to destroy her the moment she will set foot his kingdom...

Di hari putriku meninggal, aku berniat meletakkan papan arwahnya di aula leluhur Keluarga Gunawan. Namun, Jefri Gunawan yang berusia lima tahun malah melempar papan itu ke lantai dan menginjak-injaknya sampai hancur berantakan. “Dia bukan anak Keluarga Gunawan, apa haknya diletakkan di sini? Bahkan kalau kamu mati pun, aku nggak akan sudi menaruh papan namamu di sini!” Aku melirik ke arah papan arwah seorang wanita yang terpajang di aula itu tanpa mengucapkan sepatah kata pun. Begitu melihat arah pandanganku, Jefri langsung berdiri menghalangi penglihatanku. “Kamu pikir kamu siapa?! Emangnya kamu pantas dibandingkan dengan ibuku?!” “Pelakor selamanya akan jadi pelakor! Selamanya nggak akan pernah punya harga diri!” Aku tak menyangka anak yang kubesarkan dengan tanganku sendiri, ternyata bisa begitu mirip dengan ayahnya. Menatap putra kandungku yang berdiri di hadapanku, aku pun jatuh ke dalam keputusasaan yang tak berdasar. “Jangan kira karena sudah mengurusku beberapa tahun, kamu bisa jadi ibu kandungku. Ibuku hanya satu selamanya!” “Kalau hebat, pergilah dari rumahku!” Dia tak tahu kalau papan arwah yang dia hancurkan itu adalah milik kakak kandungnya sendiri. Namun semuanya sudah tak penting lagi. Putriku sudah tiada dan tak ada gunanya lagi aku bertahan di sini. “Nggak perlu mengusirku, aku akan pergi hari ini juga.”

Hidup Shirin tidak ada apa-apanya sampai tiba-tiba takdir mengenalkannya cowok misterius, Aldiaz. Segalanya yang ada di cowok itu membuat Shirin jatuh cinta. Tapi sifat Aldiaz berubah-ubah dan sering mematahkan hatinya. Saat para siswa kelas 11 disuruh mengisi soal evaluasi masa depan, di saat itu pula Shirin tahu bahwa Al adalah pembunuh bayaran yang ditugaskan membunuhnya. Apa yang akan dilakukannya? Mati demi cinta? Atau hidup tanpa cinta?

Keep your legs open, baby. That’s it… eyes on me.” One had his hand around my throat. Another had his mouth between my thighs. The third… God help me, he was the one who whispered the filth that made me forget my name. Three of them. All at once. Tearing me apart like I belonged to them. And the truth is—I did. Because I gave them my body the night I lost everything else. The night I got fired. The night my boyfriend left me for my best friend. The night I nearly ended it all. But I’d been kind to a stranger once. Gave him my umbrella in the rain. Smiled at him even when my world was falling apart. That man? He found me drunk and desperate on the edge of ruin… and offered me something darker than a second chance. To be theirs. All three of theirs. Not a girlfriend. Not a wife. A plaything. A prize. A pet. Now I wake up in silk sheets. I don’t work. I don’t pay bills. I only exist to please them. And Daddy doesn’t like when I cry. He likes when I beg.