Bam Bam Banquet Hall

It was our sixth wedding anniversary. Lord Tom didn't pledge his vows to me, but instead gave me his family's crest—a dim, unstable mark, the mark of a blood slave. That very night, while solemn hymns echoed through the hall, he performed a blood oath ceremony with his pure-blood first love, Lady Mia. I refused the mark. He let out a cold, humorless laugh. "Love is a luxury only immortals can afford, Rowling," he said. "My union with Mia is a political necessity—to maintain the purity of the bloodline." His gaze turned icy. "You are a mortal. You should be content with my protection. Few receive such a blessing." I didn't speak.I left before dawn. Six years later, we met again at a banquet hosted by the Vampire High Council. Tom walked in with Mia, her silk dress shimmering silver in the moonlight. Under his rule, his family was about to gain a seat in the Senate. His gaze found me. I stood in the hotel's decorative fountain, the water up to my ankles, soaking wet, sand clinging to my dress. A familiar look of contempt flickered across his face. "Rowling," he said coldly. "You refused my protection, mocked my generosity. Now you're rummaging through a public fountain like a beggar." The corners of his mouth curled slightly. "Do you really think any vampire would take in a mortal without a protector?" I didn't look up. I was searching for my son's tourmaline that had fallen into the water. But to my son, it was a seal—an ancient restraint, suppressing a power that shouldn't awaken so early. I could already feel it weakening. If the seal cannot be repaired in time, the power erupting within him will destroy the entire building.

After reuniting with my birth family, my wealthy biological father tossed me a black card and laid down one rule: I could spend as much as I wanted, but I was never to call him Dad—that title belonged only to his adoptive daughter. Clutching the black card, I cautiously bought myself a two-dollar-fifty ice cream cone. Just as I was happily licking the sweet ice cream, the adoptive daughter dropped to her knees before me. "Alice, are you mocking me because I can't even afford something that costs two-fifty in the future?" My brother immediately slapped me twice. "You have money now, but you can't split love. Natalie is my one and only sister!" Then my father splashed boiling water onto my face. "No disgraceful wretch deserves to be a Gervais." To punish me, they sent me off to Rimala, forced to work as a child laborer in the mines. Ten years later, I walked into a grand banquet hall with an ice cream in hand and came face-to-face with my brother, Ansel Gervais, dressed in a hand-tailored suit. "All these years and you're still a disgrace," he sneered, but I couldn't be bothered to argue. "Let go. My dad's waiting for me—and if I'm any later, the ice cream's going to melt." He looked down at me with contempt. "Dad? Who gave you permission to call him that? Natalie will forever be the only Gervais girl—no one can take that away from her!" I rolled my eyes. Who said I was talking about that cheap excuse for a father? I was talking about my adoptive father—the oil tycoon with an incurable sweet tooth. I was in a hurry to let him taste some ice cream.

When disgraced journalist Elliot Dorne receives an anonymous invitation to Wintercroft Hall—a decaying mansion on a fog-shrouded island—he is promised the story of a lifetime. But upon his arrival, Elliot finds himself among six strangers, each with their own shadowy past. Their enigmatic host, the frail and reclusive Vivienne Ashworth, claims she has summoned them to reveal a deadly truth about the Ashworth family legacy. Before she can confess, Vivienne collapses, and chaos ensues. A violent storm traps the guests on the island, and the discovery of a gruesome murder sets paranoia ablaze. As Elliot uncovers cryptic messages, hidden rooms, and a chilling photograph that ties him to the Ashworth family, he realizes that nothing about this gathering is random. With the mansion’s dark history unraveling and secrets surfacing at every turn, Elliot must confront the ghosts of his own past to survive. But the deeper he digs, the clearer it becomes—someone inside Wintercroft Hall is playing a deadly game, and not everyone will make it out alive. When disgraced journalist Elliot Dorne is invited to the remote and crumbling Wintercroft Hall, he’s promised the story that could save his career. But the mansion’s sinister halls conceal more than just secrets—they harbor a legacy of betrayal, murder, and lies. Elliot is joined by six strangers, all summoned by the enigmatic Vivienne Ashworth. Frail and reclusive, she claims to know the truth about their darkest sins. Before she can reveal anything, a violent storm cuts them off from the outside world—and the first body is discovered. As cryptic messages and chilling clues emerge, Elliot realizes that his connection to the Ashworth family runs deeper than he could have imagined. Someone in Wintercroft Hall knows the truth about his past, and they’ll stop at nothing .

This is the second book in the Twisted series. Nathan Hall felt an instant attraction towards Lyra McCoy, the youngest of McCoy siblings, who also happened to be Hall's worst nemesis. But that didn’t hold Nathan from totally being absorbed by the red-haired beauty. Waiting for her outside her workplace, stalking her movement, watching over her from the shadow, taking care of her when she was vulnerable. After a fortuitous circumstance to save Lyra from the judgmental society's eyes, Nathan proudly announced their engagement. Lyra was skeptical of Nathan’s motive from the beginning, knowing the sour war between him and her older brother Brian, but she was fine with the announcement until she found out something unacceptable took place that would shatter everything if the news traveled out. Both McCoy and Hall would have deal with shame, so she sealed her mouth and played along with the game that Nathan started. However, the worst was yet to occur, and when it appeared, would this fake engagement that twisted into something call love would be adequate to sustain the thunderstorm? Only time would reveal, although there wasn't enough left.

In my previous life, Leon, the Alpha who was supposed to complete the marking ceremony with me, suddenly changed his chosen mate to my younger sister, Rose, on the very day of the ritual. Watching the two of them act intimately together, a wave of humiliation swept over me. Just as I was about to step forward and demand an explanation, the pack was suddenly attacked. All three of us died in the riot. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of the marking ceremony. This time, I chose to fulfill their wish. After leading the members to suppress the riot that would have happened in my previous life, I left the pack and entered human society. I thought I would never cross paths with them again in this lifetime. However, three years later, on the day of a birthday banquet, I unexpectedly met Rose and Leon again. Rose was leaning shyly into Leon’s arms, greeting me with a look of feigned surprise. “Claire! Why are you at such a grand banquet? “Didn’t you go to live in human society?” When I stayed silent, Rose mocked me with a laugh. “Could it be that you couldn’t survive in human society and now want to return to the pack?” Leon looked at me from the side, his expression filled with unconcealed disgust. “I would never agree to let you return to the pack even if you kneeled and begged me. “However, as my slave, you’d still be qualified. We could go back to how things were before.” I smiled faintly. I was here because my mate was the new Ultima of the wolf packs’ Alliance. And this exquisite birthday banquet was specially prepared for me.

On the eve of my engagement banquet, news broke that my fiancé had fathered a child with his mistress, and it spread like wildfire. Before I could confront him, Jayden Ford brushed it off casually. "It was just an accident. Focus on organizing the engagement banquet first. Besides, your dad’s in the late stages of stomach cancer. Calling off the engagement now won’t do either family any good." That night, he skipped the banquet but posted a photo of a swaddled newborn on social media. When I video-called him, he was bottle-feeding the baby. "I’ve been busy taking care of the kid. You know how it is. Our family lineage has always been sparse and dwindling, and the child takes priority." He wiped milk from the baby’s mouth. "But don’t worry. Once he’s a month old, I’ll send him to the overseas. Just show up on holidays and pretend to be his mom. The title of Mrs. Ford will always be yours." I stared at the matching diamond ring on his finger and couldn’t help but laugh. "Jayden, this engagement is off." He scoffed, "You're really throwing a tantrum over something like this? Don’t be so childish." I hung up on him and called his father—Charles Ford—directly. "I heard you’re looking for a new wife? Why not consider me?" I ran a hand over my belly and smiled. "After all, I’ve got a naturally fertile body. I can give you as many sons as you want." So much for being the sole heir. I’ll make sure he has plenty of brothers to keep him company.

A homecoming banquet was organized for my wealthy boyfriend’s first love. At the banquet, he forced me to drink an entire glass of Whisky, even though I was pregnant, just to make his first love happy. My abdomen was in excruciating pain, and blood was seeping through my white dress. He kissed his first love in front of me as his friends cheered him on. As I was losing consciousness, I heard a cold remark. “Ignore her. She’s just a mistress. She won’t be able to live without me.” When I woke up in the hospital, I caressed my flat stomach and wanted to send him a photo of the medical report detailing my miscarriage. However, I realized that his profile picture had been changed to a photo of his first love’s side profile. He even blocked me again. However, this time, I did not beg him as I had in the past. Instead, I booked a flight ticket to leave the country.

[Think About A Passionate Sex Scene]: Cayden had snuck up behind Isla, his fated mate, and hauled her off the Couch and into the warming-depth of his muscle-packed body. Without warning, he circled her around, straddled her on his sturdy waist, and plunged a threatening length into her. Heavy thrust, pleasured squeals, venereal kisses, hip sways, electrifying pulses, hair pulls, dampened cuddles, vigorous growls, heated grinds… Name it! Cayden continued digging his way into Isla’s soul until her legs pleaded their surrender… [Think About A Pleasant Evening]: Cayden returns from an meeting and goes straight to meet Isla. But instead of carrying a pomander-Bouquet of pink lilies and tulips, he’s holding in his hands. Divorce papers. And he presents it to Isla, telling her to sign them and leave! And as if that’s not enough, he even cheats on her with his ex, Ivanka Haine. Isla is left heartbroken and confused about what she has done wrong. But even with the weight of her hurt, she still confronts Cayden and his reason is: “YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A BEGGERED OMEGA WHO JUST WANTS MY MONEY AND PROPERTIES. LEAVE!” Sorrowful, Isla leaves Cayden’s life for good! [Then Think Of A Banquet Thrown By The Alpha King]: Cayden, being an Alpha, gets invited to the Alpha King’s Banquet. The Alpha king, being the sovereign ruler of the entire Werewolf race, hosted a Banquet in celebration of his daughter. But Cayden arrives at the Banquet just to realize the most shocking thing. Isla is also at the same Banquet. And she’s that daughter of the King! ** When Cayden realizes his mistake, will he be able to make Love prevail— even when a Princess has sworn to get her revenge? Or will it be ‘His Regret’? Find out…

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.”

When I opened my eyes, I found myself supposedly transmigrated to some ancient era. Every morning, before light touched the sky, someone would yank me out of bed to haul trash, chop wood, and do whatever filthiest job needed doing. Somehow, I'd become the lowest-ranked servant in the entire estate. The estate lord's son would climb onto my back and ride me around the courtyard like some pet he was proud to show off. Anyone in the household could hit me, kick me, or shove me aside, and not a single soul would speak up. Five years passed like that, so awful that I almost lost my mind, as if I were living in hell. Then one day, a group of servants cornered me. They didn't bother hiding their intention. The moment I saw their faces, I knew I was in trouble. Fists flew, boots landed, and everything blurred. Just before I passed out, I heard them whispering, "We're going to kill him if we keep this up." "Come on. This place only looks like some old noble estate. It's not an actual one. If he dies here, we're the ones who'll get dragged to court!" "Relax. Ms. Shaw will handle it. The idiot pissed off her childhood sweetheart. Getting tricked into this place is exactly what he deserves." Fear swallowed everything, and the world went dark. When I woke again, the lady of the house had conveniently "returned from visiting her family." The lord threw a grand celebration with tables full of food, wine flowing, and musicians playing like nothing had happened. I carried dishes into the banquet hall and lifted my head. Her face was the same as my wife's, Melissa Shaw. I set the final dish down, stepped closer, and in a voice only she could hear, asked, "Ma'am… are you enjoying your little game?"