Angel Dust's Sister

A cunning, underhanded plan was to act and be Kelly Raevan Entera, a known daughter of a prominent family and happens to be Atty. Hideo Christian Lacson's wife. But as Acy tries to duplicate Kelly's personal qualities, instead of achieving only about her mission, she discovers beyond her expectations. An unfathomable side of its caliginous intent beneath the shadow of companion. Now, she found her real self, yet, lost amids the dark street of doubt and confusion. In between havoc, her only choice is to live in someone's name and character, even though it means robbing someone's life. She needs to do it or else, she will die.

That guy, he's her roommate. But also a demon in human skin, so sinful and so wrong she had no idea what he was capable of. That girl, she's his roommate. But also an angel in disguise, so pure, so irresistible and so right he felt his demon ways melting. Aelin and Laurent walk on a journey, not together but still on each other's side. Both leading each other to their destination unknowing and Knowingly. Complicated and ill-fated was their story.

Ayano Ruriko harus menghadapi kematian. Seorang malaikat yang bertugas untuk membawanya pergi dari dunia, malah mengijinkan gadis itu hidup kembali. Ruriko berhutang budi pada sang malaikat, namun ia tak bisa bertemu dengan makhluk itu. Enam tahun kemudian, sebuah penglihatan akan hujan bulu sayap membawa Ruriko pada sosok yang cari: Malaikat! Sosok pertama yang bisa ia lihat adalah Mirai, sang malaikat pelindung bayi. Dengan kemampuan itu, Ruriko pun berusaha mencari keberadaan malaikat maut penolongnya. Berhasilkah Ruriko menemukan keberadaannya?

"Why are you acting all mean and rude? I'm just trying to be nice here" he snapped making me stop and turned to glare at him. "I never told you to be nice! Why don't you go back to your little world and forget that I exist like you used to do?" I sneered. "Why the sudden interest!" I yelled in frustration and walked away from him. The bad Boy was simply infuriating. I was stopped. I flew in his chest as he gripped on my wrist and pulled me to him. My back was pressed against his chest and I could feel him breathing next to my ear. "Once I aim for someone, I always get her" he whispered huskily.

This book is authored by Dripping Creativity. “Stay away, stay away from me, stay away,” she shouted, over and over. She kept shouting even though it seemed she had run out of things to throw. Zane was more than a little interested in knowing exactly what was going on. But he couldn’t focus with the woman making a ruckus. “Will you shut the fuck up!” he roared at her. She fell silent and he saw tears start to fill her eyes, her lips trembled. Oh fuck, he thought. Like most men, a crying woman scared him shitless. He would rather have a gunfight with a hundred of his worst enemies than have to deal with one crying woman. “And your name is?” he asked. “Ava,” she told him in a thin voice. “Ava Cobler?” he wanted to know. Her name had never sounded so beautiful before, it surprised her. She almost forgot to nod. “My name is Zane Velky,” he introduced himself, holding out a hand. Ava’s eyes grew bigger as he heard the name. Oh no, not that, anything but that, she thought. “You have heard of me,” he smiled, he sounded satisfied. Ava nodded. Everyone who lived in the city knew the name Velky, it was the largest mafia group in the state with its centre in the city. And Zane Velky was the head of the family, the don, the big boss, the huge honcho, the Al Capone of the modern world. Ava felt her panicked brain spin out of control. Trigger warnings: Talk about SA Body image issues Light BDSM Descriptive descriptions of assaults Self harm Harsh language

The first year after they finally bring me home, the impostor suggests a trip to Golden Island so we can build some brotherly rapport. For safety, my fiancee comes with us. They rack up a massive gambling debt at Golden Island's casino. To get themselves out of trouble, she leaves me behind as a hostage and disappears with him. The casino thugs pin me down, ready to take out their anger on me. I struggle to break free, and that is when I notice the leader's phone lighting up with a number for the island owner. Isn't that the number of the adoptive sister who has adored me for more than a decade?

“And the night we met again,” I whisper, “my wolf recognized you.” Silence. “Recognized me how?” she asks carefully. My chest burns even as my pulse thunders in my ears. “As my mate.” The word falls between us like shattered glass. Avara laughs. “That’s not funny.” “I know.” “You’re my brother.” “I know.” I find myself inching closer… closer. “That’s impossible. This is sick.” “I know,” I say again, voice breaking now. “I fought it. Gods, I fought it. I tried to convince myself my instincts were wrong, that my wolf was broken, that I was losing my mind.” Her hands shake. “Stop.” “I can’t,” I say hoarsely. “Because every second I’m near you, it gets worse. Because my wolf wants to kneel at your feet and tear the world apart to protect you.” Avara stands abruptly, backing away until her spine hits the wall. “You’re lying.” “I wish I were.” …………………………… Fifteen years after vanishing from the Silvermoon pack, Kaeden Vane returns, older, lethal, and right on time at thirty-three, the age decreed by the Moon Goddess for succession, having spent years years amassing forbidden knowledge, mastering dangerous magic, and preparing to destroy his father, the man who murdered his mother in a bid for godhood. His return reunites him with Avara Vane, his seemingly fragile, human adopted sister that Silas, their father, adopted as an ‘act of mercy’. She is a Nyxarel, whose parents were slaughtered by the man she calls father and who has been conveniently placed and subdued by his father, until it is the right time to use her blood to attain immortality. And one touch is all it takes for Kaeden’s wolf to recognize her as his mate, an impossible, unforgivable bond…

My wife, Wendy, faked her death and took her younger sister’s identity, and I pretended not to know. I removed her from the position of general manager at the company and went to the police station to cancel her identity registration. In my past life, Wendy’s younger sister, Stacy, died in a car accident. Wendy chose to live as her, only because she could not bear to let Eric, her sister’s husband, become a widower. I confronted Wendy and demanded to know why she was impersonating her sister, but she refused to admit anything. “I understand that losing Wendy hurts, but you cannot treat me as if I’m her just because she is gone.” After that, Wendy spread rumors everywhere, saying I had lost my mind. She claimed that my wife had just died and I was already harboring improper thoughts toward her younger sister. In a short time, I suffered an unprecedented wave of online harassment. In the end, an overzealous netizen stabbed me to death in an alley. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Wendy was preparing to take her sister’s identity.

I failed my college entrance examination. My father decided to sell me to the village chief’s hot-tempered, crippled son. My younger twin sister helped me escape in the middle of the night. It was only later that I discovered my younger sister was the one who had failed the examination. She used my identity to attend college and hooked up with a rich heir. At her engagement banquet, they revealed the truth that she had taken my identity. As a result, the event fell apart. Out of rage, my sister pushed me down the stairs. I grabbed her and pulled her down with me. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the day the examination results came out.

My family sold one of their properties to put me through school abroad. Nathan Kingsley and I had been together three years. Two of those were long-distance. Through those two years of me alone overseas, he never broke contact — airport pickups, long phone calls, every anniversary remembered. I'd never once doubted him. I thought distance hadn't beaten us. The day I flew home, he was waiting at Arrivals with a bouquet of flowers. He smiled and said, "Finally." We set the engagement date. We picked out the dress. We booked the reception. The day the wedding march began and I stood at the top of the aisle looking at him, I thought — these three years were worth every minute. Then the doors behind me opened. My sister walked into the chapel, in a white dress, and slid her arm through his. She smiled at me. "Sorry, sis. Those airport pickups? I'm the one who sent him. For the last three years, he's been mine the whole time."