Novel & Cerita Affectionate Tone Tag

In Kieran Chase's eyes, I was not his wife. I was a non-performing asset waiting to be liquidated. When I got sick and asked for help, he became impatient. He said, "This is a minor problem. You can handle it on your own. No need to tell anyone." When I broke down in tears, he reprimanded me. "Losing emotional control shows weakness. It exposes the fragility of our alliance. I'll have the PR team teach you emotional management." Even when I called for help after a car accident, he hung up. "Nothing about you is important enough to interrupt a transaction worth hundreds of millions." I spent seven days in the ICU fighting for my life. On my first day home, I found Kieran leaning over another woman, his voice suddenly soft and coaxing as he convinced her to take her medicine. He opened his mouth to explain. I smiled bitterly and handed him the papers I'd prepared long ago. My tone mirrored his perfectly. "Mr. Chase, regarding our marriage project, the return on investment is unacceptably low after comprehensive evaluation. I'm formally proposing we terminate our cooperation. "Here's the divorce agreement. Sign it."

The room is dimly lit, the air is filled with the smell of sex and alcohol; the guy laying next to the girl is panting heavily. She on the other hand is laying next to him, all curled up; soft whimpers are coming out of her lips. The guy wraps his muscular arms around her waist and pushes her a little away from him. She opens her eyes halfway through and stares at the guy, his hair sticking to his forehead due to the sweat; his dark brown eyes are closed. His sharp features are glistening, when the little rays of the sun hits his face that is coming in through the window. Forwarding her hand, she caresses his thin lower lip with her index finger and closes her eyes. "Get out." He says in a harsh tone from beside her. Her eyes flutter open completely hearing his harsh words; she always thinks why he acts so badly with her? Retracting her hand back to herself she sits up, her lower belly aches in the bitter sweet pain. A groan comes out of her mouth and her hands go straight to on top of her lower belly, to caress it. His clothes and hers are scattered around on the floor. The entire room is a mess, the bed sheet is all crinkled; pillows are off the bed.

The air in the Parisian haute couture salon smelled like money and fear. I’d waited six months for my wedding dress. Now, it was draped over the shoulders of Sofia Ross—the trending influencer, and my mafia fiancé Vincent Cassio’s god-sister. The salon manager was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between me and the man lounging on the velvet sofa. Vincent Cassio stood up. He adjusted a fold of the diamond-encrusted train on Sofia with a casual flick of his wrist. “Her premiere next week needs a statement piece. She’s borrowing it. Pick something off the rack and stop making a scene.” His tone was flat, final. Under the crystal chandeliers, Sofia admired herself in the full-length mirror, a triumphant smile on her lips. I looked at my reflection in the same mirror, wearing jeans and a soaked trench coat. I looked like a lost tourist. Suddenly, the entire past year of planning felt like a sick joke. I didn’t yell. I just felt cold. Numb. I slipped the five-carat engagement ring off my finger. It hit the glass coffee table with a sharp, final click. “You’re right, Vincent. I don’t need this wedding dress. This wedding… I don’t need it either.”

“I’ll agree to this—but only if you stay out of my business.” “You have a deal,” the man chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender, his husky voice dripping with amusement. “But,” he added, stepping closer, his breath brushing against her ear, “you’ll have to agree to my conditions, too.” “I said I’d agree, didn’t I?” Sherry replied coolly. Her expression didn’t waver as she grabbed his collar and pulled him down to her eye level. “Mr. Smith,” she whispered, matching his tone with a quiet fierceness. Hah… This woman is going to drive me insane, Levian thought, already realizing this would be far from easy. ~~~ On her wedding day, Sherry is poisoned by her best friend. Her fiancé? At the hospital, he was celebrating the birth of his child with someone else. But fate rewinds the clock. Waking up a day before her death, Sherry has one goal: uncover the truth and take back control. However, as the secrets unravel, she realizes the betrayal runs deeper than she imagined. That's when the rumored Levian Smith makes her an offer: “Marry me, and I’ll stake my very soul for you.” Now, she must choose—revenge or redemption?

"Fine, I’ll do it, but only on the condition that my grandma gets proper treatment. If you don’t hold your end of the bargain,” Sandra said as her tone quieted down before adding, “even the stars won’t save you from me.” ******* He wanted a bride, and unknown to him, he’d married the wrong bride. Aztec Marshall was cruel, and toxic for a powerful alpha, but that was how he reigned. Many who knew him were too scared to even look in his direction. Women who loved his dangerous aura wanted him, but all he needed was for his pack to be strong. She was a simple human, with simple desires, though her greatest challenge was to finance her sickling grandma, the only family that truly cared about her. Adopted into a werewolf family, Sandra Franzel didn't know that she was just a contingency plan for them, until the dreaded day came, when she had to fit herself into a damn gown, thanks to her sister, Scarlet who had made a run for it on her wedding day. However, for the sake of her grandma, Sandra wasn't scared to be the devil’s wife. Bound by a marriage of convenience, they both have to learn to live with each other, even though the longer they stay married, the more secrets come to the surface.

I woke up, and I was 28 again. I had twin heirs, and my husband was Santino, Veridia's most feared Mafia Don. He sat at the head of the Commission of the Five Families. His sharp profile was a fixture on the cover of the underworld's most exclusive magazine for several consecutive issues. Even the oldest Valerian families were lining up to offer him their daughters. All the women in Altoria envied my good fortune. But the first thing I did after waking up was pick up the divorce papers, the ink still fresh, and handed them to his childhood sweetheart, Jessy. "My lawyer will handle the divorce. The properties and assets are yours. Santino is yours. The children are yours, too." Sitting across from me, Jessy couldn't believe it, her eyes wide with shock. "Are you crazy, Alessia? Is this some kind of trick?" "How could the woman who has been Donna for six years give it all up so easily?" I lowered my gaze, my tone calm. "Since they all prefer you, I figured it was time to step aside." "Just have Santino sign it and press his signet ring into the wax seal." "Once the divorce is final, I'll leave Veridia for good." This time, I would not make the same mistake. I would never again be a Donna in name only.

Max Siegel loved me deeply and promised me the grandest wedding anyone had ever seen. However, just three days before the big day, everything changed. The custom-made wedding dress he'd ordered for me was given to his stepsister, Fawn Lewis, and instead, he handed me a pill—one that could erase memories. “Kate,” he said, “I don’t want to hurt you, but Fawn has just been diagnosed with terminal cancer. She doesn’t have long. Her last wish is to marry me. I can’t have her leave this world with regrets. “This pill will make you forget everything about us for a few days. But don’t worry. After the wedding is over, I’ll give you the antidote, and you’ll remember everything again. Then, I’ll give you the wedding you deserve.” His tone left no room for negotiation. Without hesitation, I took the pill and swallowed it. However, what he didn’t know was that I developed that drug myself, and there was no antidote. Three days from now, I would forget the man I loved most—him. And once that happens, there’s no turning back and no chance to start over.

“It's good to see you.” Armando's tone was rusty as he whispered in her ears. “It's not every day, I get to see such beauty.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It's a pain in the ass to see you.” Leonor was struggling against the chair she was strapped with thick ropes. “I was not born with enough middle fingers to let you know how I truly feel.” She spat. __ Armando, a heartless, ruthless, Italian Mafia King who is as cunning as a fox, as dangerous as a mastermind criminal, the leader of his gang, and a brutal loan shark continues his risky adventurous life. He holds Lenore captive, until her brother can pay back his debt, but deep down, he hopes for the opposite. Leonor is a beautiful young girl who lives a peaceful lifestyle. One that guarantees her safety and peace until the mafia leader captures her. Something about Armando intrigues her. The charisma and the danger of hanging with a bad boy keep her wanting more. Will she fear him like others do, or teach him that there is more to life apart from being brutal? And will he ever learn to love? However, there is a personality clash which would later result in constant fights and the need to be heard. WARNING: The contents of this book is extremely matured.

"Now, let's discuss sexual experience," he says, his tone matter-of-fact. "It's essential for me to understand your level of comfort and any potential concerns in that aspect." I feel my cheeks flush, the topic leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. I take a moment to gather my thoughts before responding honestly, "I... I have not had previous experiences, but I am willing to learn. And... and I can assure you that I am absolutely clean." Alexander's gaze softens, and he almost seems surprised. But he eventually gives a soft laugh as he says, "I understand. Moreover, you still need to go through some tests to ensure that it is a smooth process." *********************** Hi, I’m Sophia, an ordinary college student. I have a happy family and two handsome roommates, but because of an accident, I had to secretly become a surrogate mother in order to pay for my father's enormous medical expenses. What I don't know is that the intended father, a polite and distinguished 34-year-old man, is the most influential and mysterious figure in the city. And what is beyond my control is when I give birth, I’m shocked to discover that my twin babies have wolf ears!

On our anniversary, my husband, James Marshall, purchased a painting as a gift for me with my secondary credit card. When I got home, I went to my study to retrieve an urgent court document. The door was slightly ajar. Inside, I could hear the flirtatious voice of my assistant, Julie Summers, mingled with my husband’s low murmurs. “James, your wife is just a money-printing machine. What does she know about art? She could never appreciate you like I do.” James sighed. Then, in an indulgent tone, he said, “Claire is too perfect—so perfect it’s suffocating. Not like you, full of life and warmth.” Just then, my mother-in-law, Susan Marshall, called James. He put her on speakerphone. “James, you need to move faster. While Claire still trusts you, turn all her client contacts into yours. That Julie girl seems promising. She’s much easier to control than that iron-fisted career wife of yours.” I gripped the cold doorknob, listening to the pair of shameless lovers in the study and the wretched woman on the phone, and immediately drafted a divorce agreement. At the same time, I forwarded asset-protection filings for all my holdings to my legal team. “I’ll see you all in court, parasites.”