Am I Aro Ace Quiz

She doesn’t remember her past. But someone dangerous does. When Soledae Young wakes up with no memory of who she is, the last thing she expects is to be rescued by Sebastian Hunter—a devastatingly handsome billionaire with secrets of his own. Hired as his personal assistant, their professional boundaries blur fast, and Soledae finds herself tangled in a passionate game neither of them is ready to lose. But just as desire ignites into something deeper, ghosts from Soledae’s forgotten past come calling—and they aren’t here for closure. A familiar face emerges in the shadows: Sebastian Miller, a man who might be more connected to Soledae than anyone suspects. As enemies close in and secrets unravel, Soledae must decide who to trust—before her past destroys her future.

Hakim was every girl's dream at Northwest High, and every guy's role model. He was hot, smart, popular, romantic and all, and every girl's dream was to get laid by him. He was living the dream life, but he had one single problem; Dante. Dante was the complete vice versa of Hakim. Soft, gentle, unnoticed, innocent, and these traits drew Hakim's heart towards him, and for that reason, Hakim hated him. He hated his lingering gazes and admiring glances, and he hated that he felt the need to hold him, to protect him, and for that reason he resolved to torment Dante, making his high school days unbearable. Dante was forever scarred by him, and his heart broke into pieces. Now, years later, after the two drifted apart, going on to their two separate worlds, Dante builds an image for himself, he is no longer the timid, innocent boy he was back at Northwest High, but is now a top corporate lawyer in the industry, and a fine one at that. What happens when he is hired by a law firm and finds out that his boss is no other person but Hakim? What will evolve as mysteries unfold and actual truth gets told?

WARNING ⚠️ This novel is a steamy, taboo erotic romance centered on forbidden attraction between soon-to-be stepsiblings, Sophia and Julian. It's got all the hallmarks of high-stakes family drama, and a heavy dose of explicit sexual encounters that escalate quickly from masturbation fantasies to oral sex and risky hookups. If you're into quick-hit erotica with themes of dominance, risk, and "daddy" kink, it might scratch that itch—it's unapologetically horny and dives straight into the action . 18+ In the snow-kissed shadows of a Parisian estate, heiress Sophia Cole returns for her father's whirlwind remarriage—only to collide with the one man who ignites her darkest desires: Julian Moreau, her soon-to-be stepbrother. One electric glance across the atrium, and the air crackles. What begins as stolen fantasies in a locked restroom spirals into raw, reckless passion—his mouth claiming her, her body surrendering in waves of forbidden ecstasy. They know it's wrong. They know the wedding vows loom, and discovery could shatter everything. But when Sophia's father nearly catches them in the afterglow, and Julian summons her to the moonlit study with a single commanding text, the beast inside him refuses to be caged. As he pins her against the desk, whispering "Call me Daddy," Sophia realizes one terrifying truth: this fire won't burn out. It’s only just the beginning—and someone is about to walk through that door.

After the doctor confirmed her pregnancy, the first thing Eliza Lockett did was ask her lawyer to draft a divorce agreement. "Ms. Lockett, once both parties sign, the marriage will automatically dissolve after the 30-day cooling-off period." Eliza's expression did not change. "Can I sign his name for him?" The lawyer hesitated, then quickly shook his head. "No. He must appear in person." "He agrees to the divorce," she said evenly. "He's just busy with work and can't come. If you don't believe me, I'll call him now and let you hear it yourself." She took out her phone and dialed Alban Sidham. "Alban, there's something I need to talk to you about—" He cut her off before she could finish. His voice was cold and edged with impatience. "Didn't I tell you to handle your own affairs? I don't have time for your trivial matters."

When Adriano Morelli realized I hadn’t submitted a single household request in three days, he called me himself for the first time in months. “Serafina,” he said, his voice smooth and patient, “the clinic has been cleared. Your file is back on priority. See? When you stop making things difficult and learn how this family works, I make sure you’re taken care of.” He always sounded the gentlest when he was reminding me who held the power. What he didn’t know was that by the time his name lit up my screen, the divorce papers were already drafted. From the outside, I had everything a woman could want: a guarded penthouse, a driver on call, designer clothes, and the last name of one of the most feared men in the city. But almost none of it was mine. The cards were monitored. Cash had to be approved. Staff took Viviana Costa’s orders before they ever listened to me. Even the wardrobe budget, my schedule, and access to the family office all ran through her hands. Adriano called it convenience. Three days ago, I was rushed into a private clinic, blood soaking through my dress, while a doctor told me there was still a chance to save the baby if the emergency deposit was paid immediately. I called Adriano until my hands shook. Viviana stalled the transfer. First there was no direct authorization. Then the amount was too large. Then Adriano was in a meeting and could not be disturbed over something that might not be serious. By the time the money came through, it was too late. The baby was gone. I had stayed with Adriano for two reasons: I loved him, and I believed that when it truly mattered, he would choose me. I was wrong about both. Our child died first. My marriage died with it.

The heart that I had waited two years for was given to the fake heiress, Diane Bishop, by my husband. The doctor said that I only had a week left to live. So, I decided to undergo cryonics. I donated my body to Diane’s workshop. The day I signed the donation papers, my son threw himself into my arms and exclaimed that I had finally made up with Diane. My parents praised me for finally being a good sister to help out Diane. My husband was pleased when he said that I had finally let go of the grudge and had become more understanding. I chuckled. They were right, I had finally learned my lesson. I would give Diane my identity as the heir of Bishop Corporation and fulfill everyone’s wishes.

"I loved that I fell for you but I hated that I was your second. That second which always comes after first!" Lilian Evans got married to Richard Tucker after his first wife died. She couldn't keep her heart in place despite his rude and ignorant behaviour. Things got a little overboard and now she was stuck at a point of no return. How would Lilian unfold her life in chaos with the responsibility of being a mother? "Touching others' belongings without consent! You know that is bad manner, right?" Lilian turned in the direction of the voice only to find her husband standing there in the ebony rich suit, his tie a little loose as he gazed right into her soul. "Oh... Yeah, sorry. I was just-" "Your room is at the end of this hallway, closer to Aid's," he said, taking off his coat and not minding to let his bride complete her sentence.

On our wedding night, my wife led my younger brother onto our marital bed. He was wearing nothing but his underwear. She expected him to consummate our marriage in my place. "Sweetheart, I feel awful about your legs and what the doctors said about your infertility," she said softly. "Elliot will just have to help us for one night." My face hardened as I stepped forward. I was ready to throw Elliot Charlton out of the bedroom. However, my parents immediately sided against me. "You're the one who can't fulfill your role as a husband," they said sharply. "Elliot is willing to sacrifice himself so that you can have a child. What's wrong with that?" Even my brother laughed at me. He said I was not a real man and told me to accept things while I still could. According to him, I should be thankful to gain a son without doing anything. They even suggested that I stay and watch, claiming it would prove the two were only trying to conceive a child and nothing else. I clenched my teeth until my jaw ached, then turned and called my wife's greatest rival. "You win," I said quietly. "The Wallace family's investment will be transferred to your account tomorrow." After ending the call, I raised my eyes and looked at Janet Wallace. "You share his bed tonight," I said. "Tomorrow, we get divorced."

On day ten of our cold war, Barry posted a pic—him and Lyla, locked in a kiss. His 'one true love.' I sent in my study abroad application without a word. At our grad party, he strolled in with Lyla, fingers laced with hers, looking at her with all his affection. A friend hesitated. "But what about Amelia? She loves you. You guys are getting married." Barry smirked. "She was just a stand-in. Now that Lyla's back, my fiancée should change too." So I slipped off the ring, handed it over, and disappeared. And he lost it. Tore through everything trying to find me. Years later, he finally did. Saw me with my husband, picking out baby supplies. His eyes went red. "Amelia, come back with me. Please?"

During the eight years I spent by Alpha David’s side, I also raised the pup he had with my late sister. At his birthday banquet, I accidentally wore one of her old dresses. Eight-year-old Dorian grabbed a pot of freshly brewed coffee and poured it over me— right in front of the maids. The scalding liquid burned my skin, and when I looked up, I saw the same cold disgust in his eyes that I’d seen so many times in his father’s. “How dare you wear my mother’s dress?” he sneered. “You’ll never replace her. You killed her with that wicked heart of yours!” The coffee seared more than my flesh. It burned straight through my heart. I looked at the child I’d raised for eight long years. I didn’t feel angry. I didn’t even feel sad. Only a quiet kind of exhaustion. “Don’t worry,” I whispered. “I’ll leave tomorrow.”