Arti Nj Di Rp

On the eve of the wedding, my fiancé's adopted sister was drugged at a bar and called for help. Her body was burning with fever. I grabbed my fiancé as he was about to rush out. "Take her to the hospital. Doctors have proper antidotes." Julian Zane slapped me for suggesting that. There was a savagery in his eyes I had never seen before. "Nora, do you have any conscience at all? Elena is suffering a fate worse than death, and you're still nitpicking?" He yanked off his tie and spoke in a hoarse tone. "She's the sister I've cherished since childhood. I will save her even if I have to sacrifice myself to do it." I watched him undo his shirt buttons with his trembling fingers. Elena, flushed and feverish, fell into his arms. The private room door slammed shut in front of me. The sounds of passion inside struck me like blow after blow, shattering five years of blind devotion into dust.

Crown Prince Rain Vale an heir only by title—never by heart. In the kingdom of Silverreach, omegas are meant to serve, not rule. Yet I was born the son of the consort and declared heir at birth, shattering centuries of tradition and igniting hatred in the hearts of my seven alpha brothers. To them, I am not a prince… but the moon's greatest mistake waiting to be corrected. My coming-of-age Howling Ceremony was meant to fix that mistake. A political spectacle designed to bind me to a powerful alpha and quietly strip me of power, ensuring Silverreach returns to its “proper” order. But the Moon has always loved cruel jokes. Instead of a conquering warlord, noble king, or domineering alpha, the bond binds to Caelan Moonfang—the fallen alpha of the Moonfang pack, a crippled Enigma. To my father, the match is an insult. To Caelan’s brother, it is humiliation. To the world, it is proof the Moon has lost its mind. But I knelt anyway and claimed him. Because I, Rain Vale, have never been obedient. And if the kingdoms see a mistake… I will become their worst.

Nadhea Martinez an Alpha female reincarnated back after her old life has been fooled by Brittany and Zayn Brown-the brother and sister of the Brown family - who take the opportunity to snatch their respective goals from Adam Smith and Nadhea. Hence Nadhea is considered a suffering doll. Brittany two-faced controls in order to get Luna's dignity while Zayn controls the status of the strongest Alpha replacing Adam Smith. After knowing reincarnation in the same place when having sex with Adam and having memories to improve the lives of both, Nadhea follows the two bastards ' game by pretending to be innocent. Nadhea should have rejected Adam's confession in her previous life then the second chance Nadhea accepted it with much love and sincere wholeheartedly without disturbing the existence of Zayn and Brittany. Xander, the Beta man who is looking for a solution to all the problems related to the Smith family is quite capable of accepting Nadhea's decision. However, Nadhea still took revenge for the actions of Zayn and Brittany Brown by torturing mercilessly. Smith's company will also be destroyed if they both suck like parasites. Will Nadhea be able to exact her spectacular revenge against Brittany and Zayn with her own hands? How did it feel to accept Adam Smith's true feelings as long as Nadhea used to abandon him and leave him alone?

After a year of hustling overseas, I came home to find that my DINK husband had a child with his first love. We had a massive blowout, but he remained unnervingly calm. "Lucy's husband can't have children. She stood by me through those dark years—now I owe her this," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Even my in-laws tried to persuade me. "Raising a child is security for old age. Just think of it as your own—won't it be good to have someone to care for you later on?" I looked at Thomas Wilson, a wave of pain crashing through me. "I can raise the child," I said finally, "but you have to cut off all contact with Lucy. That's my bottom line." Thomas didn't hesitate. He threw a divorce agreement in front of me, his tone turning cold. "Lucy and I are the child's biological parents. I won't separate from my own blood." "Fine," I said. "Then let's get divorced."

On my father’s sixtieth birthday, I was overseas, negotiating an energy contract. I deliberately told my wife to throw a huge banquet for him. That day, I watched the mansion’s security footage with a smile. Unexpectedly, I saw my nine adoptive siblings surrounding an unfamiliar old man. That old man wore my dad’s class ring as he happily pulled my wife onto the stage. “Thank you for coming to my birthday banquet. This is my daughter-in-law, the president of the Viapent Group. She’s the absolute best! She spent three million dollars on this banquet! It’s all thanks to my eldest son for finding such a capable wife.” In one corner, my actual father was in tattered clothes, washing dishes with my son. He accidentally splattered some water. One of the guests kicked him in disgust, causing him to cough up blood. The security footage was cut off. How dare these people mistreat my father and son? I called a special number. “I’m putting a stop to the negotiations. My father and son are being abused back home. I am returning to them now.”

My wife had risen through the ranks of the Confidential Bureau, becoming its youngest team leader—all thanks to the "voice" of the baby boy in her womb, who could somehow identify traitors from within. When the holidays came, I went to visit her. But the moment I arrived, I heard the voice of that unborn child in her belly. "Ah, it's Bad Daddy! He's the one who's been secretly selling off the core technology!" I froze, stunned. Before I could even speak, my wife raised her gun and fired. The bullet tore through my shoulder. "Who did you sell the technology to? Talk!" Through the searing pain, I struggled to explain. "I don't even know what technology you're talking about. How could I possibly—" Her expression turned glacial. Without a word, she lifted the gun again and pulled the trigger, blowing my head apart. "Mommy is amazing! Bad Daddy is finally gone. The stolen data is all hidden on that USB drive." Even as I died, I couldn't understand how I had become a traitor. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of the visit. This time, I took the initiative. I pulled out the USB drive and handed it to my wife. "If this is the evidence you want," I said, "go ahead, shoot me."

“I like pretty little girls who obey instructions before complaining. They don’t get to be punished.” His stubble brushed against my face and a low moan escaped me. Damn him! “Stay like this. Don’t move an inch.” What? “And for an entire week, this would be the only piece of material you get to put on.” Again, what?! ~+~ Camila Rose Frost, a club stripper, never expected her life to take such a turn. When he abusive boyfriend and boss entered into a contract with the enigmatic business tycoon, Lorenzo King Calloway. What starts as a business transaction quickly spirals into something far more intense. Bound by a contract and drawn into King's world, Camila finds herself struggling between separating from king to saving herself from his obsessed lover and a growing affection for him.

At our seventh wedding anniversary dinner, I noticed something strange. My best friend, Darren Blackburn, who had always been single, had suddenly changed his profile picture to a couple’s photo. "So you’ve been hiding a girlfriend from me?" I joked with a grin. "When are you bringing her around? I should at least meet her and make sure she’s good enough for you." He just smiled and shook his head, brushing it off. "Not yet," he said. "It’s not the right time." Then Deanna Cunningham, my wife’s voice called out from the kitchen, "Babe, come help me tie my apron." I hadn’t even pushed my chair back yet when Darren was already on his feet, jogging over. He stepped behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and tied the apron strings for her. I froze where I stood. Seeing the look on my face, he quickly tried to explain, "I’m just used to helping out at home. My mom’s always bossing me around. It’s basically muscle memory. Don’t read into it." I didn’t argue or make a scene. I kept my expression neutral and carried on with the dinner as if nothing had happened. Only after all the guests had left did I turn to Deanna, who was clearing the table, and say calmly, "Let’s get a divorce." She slammed the dishes down with a loud crash and glared at me. "Seriously? Over something like that? Just because he tied my apron once?"

Samantha Sonnet, my wife who's also a hospital dean, decides to replace my name with Nicholas Spark, the intern's name on the surgical atlas that I've spent the last three years drafting without my permission. That atlas is then published. I burn the only original draft of the atlas in front of the entire department. Samantha blames me for being brash. "He's just leaving his name there so that he can ensure a smoother project closeout." After dusting the ashes away, I reply, "My academic achievements will always be mine. Since someone else's name is printed on my achievements, that means they are no longer pure." Later at midnight, Samantha hands me a glass of warm milk in an attempt to apologize to me. When I regain consciousness once again, I've already gotten strapped to a surgical table beneath a huge spotlight. I see a scalpel glinting coldly right above me. "You're a man of purity, right?" Samantha murmurs into my ear. "Three people's blood will be coursing through your veins soon enough. You'll be impure soon enough!" At the moment, Samantha is livestreaming an illegal organ removal surgery. As I stare at the camera hovering above my head, I say coldly, "If you've recorded enough evidence, then it's time to turn off the camera! Tell Captain Hardy that I've gotten my hands on the evidence he wants!"

On our wedding anniversary, I canceled all my meetings and made a reservation at a restaurant. That evening, my wife, the renowned investigative journalist Amaya Shaw, called me. “Efim, I’m sorry! I just received a tip from a source. It’s urgent. “It involves inside information about a well-known company. I have to go verify it immediately!” But the next day, I saw that Javor Furey, the junior she had brought along, had posted a collage on his social media. The central photo showed Amaya wearing a childish birthday hat. Her head was pressed against Javor’s, as they made a wish together in front of a cake covered in candles. This was the caption. [Thanks, my dear Ms. Shaw! Even in the midst of her busy schedule chasing big stories, she remembered to give me this surprise birthday!] [Chasing big stories.] I stared at those three words. Then, I glanced at the limited-edition bag on our dining table. It was the one she had been raving about for half a year. It was the anniversary gift I had prepared for her. I felt absurd. I commented just two words under that post. [How touching.] Her call came in almost the second I hit send. She sounded furious. “Efim, do you have to be so sarcastic? “It’s just an anniversary. How old are you? Why are you still celebrating such childish anniversaries?” From our first year of marriage to the present, her “tip-offs from informants” and “special circumstances” always took precedence over our promises. This time, she could not even be bothered to come up with a plausible excuse. I did not say anything. I hung up and blocked her number. This marriage was over.