Ban X Meliodas

In the fifth year of being Mrs. Cloud, my brother-in-law passed away. My mother, stressed by the thought of my older sister spending her youth in widowhood, wanted her to have a child with the help of my husband. I refused outright, but my protests were useless. My mother brought people to block the door, and I was left to watch helplessly as my husband and my half-sister entered the bedroom together. "She's your sister. What's the harm in letting her have him?" I thought that my husband couldn't possibly do anything with my sister since she was family. I thought he would draw the line, out of decency, out of respect. However, as time passed, my heart grew cold. Only then did I realize that I was the only one who cared about this matter. While I clutched our daughter in my arms and cried in silent devastation, he was going at it with my sister.

My husband, Liam, got his terminally ill ex-girlfriend, Chloe, pregnant. He said it was to grant her dying wish of becoming a mother. On the day she gave birth, Liam's sister, Isabella, hired a security firm to guard the hospital, claiming it was to prevent me from causing a scene. Isabella stood by Chloe's bedside. "Don't worry, I have people posted at the entrance. If Ava dares to show up and make trouble, we'll have her thrown out immediately." Liam, seeing I hadn't come, breathed a sigh of relief. "Chloe, just focus on delivering our baby safely. Don't worry about anything else." He truly believed that since he was only fulfilling his dying ex's last wish, I would never be so unreasonable as to make a fuss. Looking at the tiny, rosy infant in his arms, he sent me a text: "Darling, I did this for you. I had her carry a child for us, so you could finally be a mother." He thought that as long as I accepted it all, this child was my ultimate reward. But what he didn't know was that I had just surrendered my residency. In one week, I would be in Kenya, working as a volunteer on a project of biomedical research. It was meant to be a final goodbye—a world away from Liam, forever. But he was searching for me like a madman, pleading for me to return.

"You look so fucking sexy with your mouth wrapped around my cock," Ryan groaned, increasing the speed of his thrusts into my mouth. I moaned at his praise as I widened my mouth. And a split second later, he filled my mouth with his warm release. I smirked as I gazed up seductively at him and licked the remnants of his cum off my lips. +++ Ophelia Alvarez is a helpless third-year college student during the daytime and a bottle girl at a strip club by night. She resorted to such a controversial occupation because she has to pay for her cancer-stricken father's chemotherapy treatment. When billionaire CEO, Ryan Torres offers her a juicy proposal to be his exclusive sex slave, she has no option but to accept it to ease her Dad's medical expenses. A lot of wild sexual escapades happen between them, and they eventually part ways, albeit in a terrible manner. When fate has them meet some years later, will it be enough to get her to forgive the cruel, and arrogant billionaire, for abandoning both her and their unborn baby in a pool of blood, three years ago?

Constance thought that marriage is something sweet and worth awaiting for not until she got married at the age of nineteen to the popular musician and a business tycoon, Jace Williams. He's popular both in the business world and the entertainment world but he's an arrogant asshole not forgetting how ruthless he is in the business world. Their marriage was arranged by Jace's grandfather in a way to pay Constance's late father for saving his life in the past. Constance has no choice but to accept the marriage since she has no one to turn to after her parents death, also, she made a promise to Mr Williams — Jace grandfather— to stay in the marriage no matter what but on her wedding night, she slept on the couch in her wedding dress. Jace doesn't love his new wife, he married her just to please his grandfather but will he be able not to fall in love with his little beautiful wife?

After a night of intoxication, I found myself in the arms of Lucas Holmes, who later became my husband. Regardless of the insults and mistreatment from my family and me, he remained unruffled, displaying a calm and virtuous demeanor. However, as I started to develop feelings for him, he unexpectedly suggested a divorce. The once gentle and virtuous man underwent a remarkable transformation. In a sudden twist of fate, my family faced hardships, while he prospered. The virtuous husband I had once underestimated had now become my financial supporter.

On the day I was kidnapped, my husband was looking after his sick sweetheart. I called him, asking him for help. Yet, he merely replied coldly, "Danica, you are a bad liar." After that, he heartlessly hung up the phone call on me, causing me to get brutally murdered by the kidnappers. I failed to show up as scheduled on the day we agreed to finalize our divorce. He called me in exasperation, only for the phone call to be answered by the police. "Mr. Ferguson, are you a family member of the deceased Danica Reed?"

"You can give everything to a man—your time, your love, your life—but if you’re not the woman he wants, none of it matters." I wish I had known that before. Almost ten years of marriage. And now here he is — ready to leave me, take my son, and marry my sister. And worse? He’s making the world believe I’ve gone mad. Seven years. Seven years of sacrificing. Of putting him first, of trying to be the wife he said he needed. And now? I’m locked away, labeled crazy. The whole of Atlanta is praying for me. Because they all think I’ve broken down. That I’m sick. And that lie? It’s his. My sisters’. My parents’. My best friends’. Even my sons’. Yes — the boy I raised like mine. He made a video. Said I fell down the stairs, and that’s what triggered all this. It’s viral now. But it's not the entire truth; it’s just the story they needed. I gave them everything. Held this family together. Played every role — wife, mother, daughter, friend. I was everything… well, everything until she came back. Now that their perfect girl is home, I’m just in the way. And the best way to erase me? Label me unstable. Even my son wants her to be his mom. My husband? He says I was never the one. The truth is, they never really wanted me. Well, not until…

"No, no, please I can't take it anymore..! Please.. Daddy..!" I keep begging him to stop. "You ask for my darkest desire, so take it, sweetheart, all this time I've been waiting for you to ask for this." "Please..! Please..!" My tears started to fall as my body and my mind couldn't compromise his cruel torture. Book 1 of My Husband's series. Luna, 30 y.o, is just an ordinary wife, she already has adorable kids, married to her husband Dominic, all this time she is living her best life with a good husband, and good kids, never knowing about her husband's dark past until someday she discovers something interesting at her garage and that will change her married life forever..

Life forced Violet into a difficult situation. She had no choice but to get married to the billionaire, Stewart Johnston, so that she could get money to pay for her ailing mother’s treatment, but that only marked the beginning of her misfortune. Stewart treated Violet like a trash and named her a moocher since she got married to him because of his money. When Violet couldn’t take the humiliation anymore, she walked away from the marriage and she got the biggest shock of her life.

I pleaded with my husband Cedric Fleetham over and over, and finally, he agreed to take our daughter camping in the mountains for her birthday. When I found her late the next night, she was already gone. She lay at the foot of the mountain, her tiny hand still clutching a drawing of our family. As I knelt beside her, my heart shattered. Meanwhile, Cedric was busy updating his social media. His post read, [You and our daughter are my treasures,] and it was accompanied by a photo, where he stood beside his childhood sweetheart and held hands with another little girl, watching the sunset. And there, in the corner of the picture, was a tiny hand—my daughter’s hand. The cruelest truth of all was that my daughter took that photo.