Romans & histoires After The Vows

“I need your help to fake a private jet crash,” I said quietly. “It’s the only way I can ever leave Luca Moretti.” People said he’d given up the Mafia throne for me. They called him the man who traded power for love— the heir who walked away from blood and gold just to marry a waitress from the slums. For years, he made the world believe in us. He built empires under my name. He sent me roses every Monday. He told the press I was his salvation. But love doesn’t always mean loyalty. While I was busy believing in forever, he was building a second home behind my back— one filled with laughter, toys, and twin sons who had his eyes. The night I disappeared, his empire burned. He tore apart cities, bribed governments, and buried men alive just to find me. But by the time he did— I was already gone. And the woman he’d once died for no longer loved him enough to stay alive.

Rebecca was supposed to marry the man she had always loved, but a one-night trap caused her to lose everything. Her family and love vanished. Not only that, the good name she had always protected was destroyed by rumors that were not entirely true. Then one day, Rebecca discovered that the one-night trap connected her to Glenn Romanov-a mysterious man who entered her life. Everything became even more complicated. Two strangers who did not know each other seemed to be played by the fate of life. So, what will happen next in the story of Rebecca and Glenn?

Since it's already the end of the year, the music app I use produces a report on the songs I've listened to in 2025. The keyword of my report is "resonance". Over the year, I don't spend much time listening to the songs on this app. My girlfriend, Sienna Fletcher, is the one who's been using my account this whole time. There's a row beneath the keyword that's written in a tiny font. "You had listened to this song with someone at 4:00 am on December 1st. It turns out that love can go beyond a night's sleep." My breath gets hitched in my throat. December 1st is my birthday. But that night, I had gone to bed at an early hour. Meanwhile, Sienna had left hurriedly after cutting my birthday cake with me with the excuse that she needed to pull an overnight shift at the company. For some reason, I tap onto the unfamiliar-looking profile that has been interacting frequently with my account with a trembling finger. Their keyword of the year is "favor". My heart skips a beat at the sight. Then, I tap on the details. "Over the year, you've listened to songs with this user 688 times in the middle of the night. Every time you do, it's a secretive conversation meant for your souls." The next thing I know, I receive a message from Sienna. "Babe, I need to work overtime tonight again. You don't have to wait up for me. Just go to bed early." At the same time, a new post is uploaded on the unfamiliar profile. It features a photo of two hands that are intertwined together. "I love working overtime with her the most. I want to listen to songs with her forever."

He divorced her. That was two years ago. She was shopping with her best friend when she felt a blinding sort of pain before losing consciousness. She woke up at the hospital and saw her parents and Albert Matthews, her ex-husband, and the man who can cover the sky with one hand in S City, talking to the doctor. She has a disease - and they said she's dying in three days. This is her sixth day now. She died in his watch, wishing that in her next life, she would still be his wife -- and the gods favored her.

My fiance is the best Neuro Healer among the werewolves. His first love is his little stepsister, who once took a fatal silver arrow for him. Now, her old condition has flared up, and she has a fatal silver venom disease. She only has 21 days left to live. In order to stay with her in her final days, he pours his newly developed "Memory Lock Potion" into me to eliminate all my memories of him by force. He says, "It's just 21 days. Once she's gone, I'll feed you the antidote myself, and you'll remember me again." In those 21 days, he holds a grand bonding ceremony for his stepsister, dances with her during the Moon Goddess Festival, and makes an oath swearing that they will become mates again in their next life. Finally, he sends her off. After 21 days, the potion wears off, and he kneels in the rain with tears and blood all over his face. He asks hoarsely in an accusing tone, "The potion only lasts for 21 days… why have you forgotten me completely?" I just look up impassively at him. "Sorry, but who are you?"

Vows of Silver and Sin “In the city of Oakhaven, you don’t pray to God. You pray to the Syndicate.” Elara Vance is a mafia princess with a lethal secret: she can "read" the memories of any object she touches. But in a world where magic is a death sentence, her gift is a gilded cage. When her father’s gambling debts finally come due, she isn’t sold for gold. She’s sold to Dante Vane the cold-blooded "Shadow-Walker" Don who rules the supernatural underworld. Dante is a man of iron and whispers, cursed with a touch that brings only agony. He doesn’t want a wife; he wants a key. He believes Elara’s bloodline is the only thing that can break the ancient curse tethering his soul to the shadows. The deal is simple: Break the curse, and she wins her freedom. But as the wedding bells toll and a magical war brews on the horizon, Elara discovers that the man she was taught to fear might be the only one capable of saving her. In a den of monsters, falling in love is the most dangerous sin of all. Will she break his curse, or will the shadows consume them both?

Elijah Morris has been fooling around for four out of the five years we've been married. And from the very first month, he openly betrays me. Meanwhile, I spend my time warding people off with expensive contracts, one after another. Eventually, all that's left between us is constant fighting. One day, his younger stepsister, Abigail Wright, returns. And just like that, he finally settles down. That's when the system tells me that I can finally go home. For the next five days, I no longer ask about his schedule. I don't care if he is with Abigail, nor do I care if she is pregnant with his child. I even move out of the master bedroom myself, listening to them going at it all night. The fifth day after Abigail's return is our wedding anniversary. Elijah bursts into the room, tears up our marriage certificate in front of me, and smashes my most treasured vase into pieces. He grips my throat tightly and growls, "Why did you put mango in Abby's cake? She's allergic, and she almost died! How could you be so cruel?" For the first time, I don't argue with him. Instead, I go along with his accusations. "So what?" I then pick up a shard from the broken vase on the floor under his disbelieving gaze. Then, I draw it across my artery. Just like that, I end my life in this world.

"Chase after me, before it's too late. Chase me like you're obsessed with me." Nazi is just a normal woman, who's working hard for her family, until one day. Nazi meet a billionaire that will change her life, bring a rollercoaster feelings that Nazi never felt before.

Perfect is boring. What's life without our secrets? It's what makes us who we are. But, Janelle doesn't know that. She has a perfect life. She's the best fashion designer . She has the sweetest parents, the best Nanny, her friends are to die for and the love of her life is one of the city's most eligible bachelors. But did everything have to fall apart when she least expected it? Perfect isn't normal, after all.

When I was born, the nurse handed me over to my parents, and the smiles on their faces instantly vanished. Hovering over their son's smooth head was a line of numbers that no one else could see. 6570 days. It was exactly 18 years. Not a day more, not a day less. The nurse thought they were just nervous first-time parents, but my parents knew the truth. That number was my lifespan. While everyone else in the delivery room was celebrating a new life, my parents were staring at my death. For the next 18 years, I was the most precious person in the family. No matter how poor we were, the eggs were always mine, the new clothes were always mine, and the meat was always mine. My younger sister could only look on enviously. My parents often told her, "Let your brother have it. He doesn't have much time left." I was well-behaved from a young age, never causing trouble, quietly waiting to die. On my 18th birthday, I blew out the candles and said a sincere goodbye to the world. The next day, my parents and sister, dressed in black clothes, walked into my room with swollen eyes. I rubbed my eyes, smiled at them, and said, "Good morning." The air froze. The sadness on their faces slowly turned into astonishment, then coldness.