Boyfriend Of The Dead นิยาย & เรื่องราว

On Christmas Eve, Gabriel Caldwell, my three-year boyfriend, invites me to go home with him for a nice feast and to spend the holidays together. But before I can even get a bite, I get drugged instead. "If I can't pay them any money at this rate, they'll chop my hand off, Evelyn! Seriously, I don't have any choices left but to deliver you to them! "Don't blame me for this, Evelyn. Blame yourself for having such rotten luck in life by looking just like the woman of Mr. Kensington's dreams. "By then, my debt is cleared, and you might live an extremely cushy life as a rich man's wife! Isn't this a win-win situation for us?" While I'm still groggy from the drugs' effects, I get delivered to an extremely familiar-looking estate by Gabriel's family. First things first, if I'm not mistaken, this must be my uncle, Sebastian Kensington's estate. Secondly, my uncle adores his older sister—my mom—so much to the point that he's never fallen for any other woman except her in this lifetime. And last but not least, all my dad did back then was roll his eyes at my mom once before Uncle Sebastian had him sent to a faraway continent. Well then, I wonder who's the one that'll be cursed with rotten luck after they deliver me to my uncle's hands? Gosh, it's so hard to guess!

It was my first time going to my boyfriend’s home for the New Year. In the middle of dinner, his childhood friend suddenly slammed her spoon on the table. “Cole, how could you bring a bar girl to our New Year’s Eve dinner?” The room fell silent. Everyone thought she simply had too much to drink. But she spoke with complete confidence. “One of my friends works on the vice squad. He arrested her himself. There’s no way he got the wrong person.” She threw a police penalty notice onto the table. My name was clearly printed on it. I was stunned. Last month, the city’s vice squad had arrested dozens of people. I was the one who approved and signed those cases. I had just taken office as bureau chief.

I never meant to fall for my boyfriend’s father. When I caught Liam cheating and ran to his family mansion for answers, the last thing I expected was to end up pinned against his father’s desk, moaning Diego Ramos’ name while his fingers ruined me. Diego is everything Liam isn’t — powerful, ruthless, and dangerously addictive. The billionaire CEO is twice my age, my boss, and completely off-limits. But after one forbidden kiss, one stolen night in my childhood bedroom, I can’t stop craving the man who makes me scream “Daddy” while my family is downstairs. Now Liam is back with a fiancée on his arm, demanding his parents play happy family for appearances. His mother is threatening to destroy everything. And the worst part? I don’t feel guilty anymore. Because every time Diego looks at me like he wants to claim me, I realize the truth: I was never meant to be Liam’s. I was always meant to be his father’s dirty little secret.

I was the odd one out in the Chicago mob. Other men's women spent their time fighting for affection, clawing for power, watching out for the homewreckers. Not me. I spent mine cleaning up after my boyfriend, Don Vincent Maro. His political rivals — I squared away. His brother's messes — I handled overnight. The women he kept on the side — I dealt with personally. Last month it got worse. He asked me to go chase off a man who'd been hanging around Sofia, his new girl. Sofia pouted. "Elena really can do everything." Vincent said, "That's why I keep her around." Sofia asked, "Won't Elena be upset?" Vincent paused. "Her? She's used to it." Seven years. No title in the Maro family. No public acknowledgment. Just one function — fixing things. This time, I was tired. I slid the last stack of documents across to Vincent. He signed them one after another without looking up. When he was done, he asked: Anything else? I said: No. It's all handled. What he didn't know was that at the bottom of that stack was the document terminating every identity I held inside the Maro family. The moment his pen touched that page, I no longer belonged to the Maros. And I no longer belonged to him.

One life for another. That is the rule of the Aftergame. Lena was a ghostwriter who lived in the shadows—until a devastating betrayal by her sister pushed her into the path of a speeding truck. She expected the void. Instead, she woke up in a sadistic, system-driven purgatory where the dead must compete for a second chance at life. In this gore-soaked nightmare, survival has a name: Riven. A lethal player with eyes like cold flint, Riven breaks the game’s cardinal rule to save Lena, making them both targets of the system’s wrath. But as they reach the final level, the horrific truth unvails. Riven isn’t a player. He is the Executioner—a sentient program designed to mimic love, only to deliver the ultimate soul-crushing betrayal. But Riven has developed a terminal malfunction: he truly loves her. Now, Lena is back in the land of the living, but the world is starting to pixelate. To save her, the machine that was meant to kill her has built her a cage. And in the Aftergame, mercy is the most terrifying fate of all.

This is the third book of the Bloodstone series. It can be a stand-alone but will have cross-over characters from the first two books, Alpha Erik and Everlasting Fire. The Bloodstone pack was always known for its thirst for blood and its brutal Alphas. But a lot has changed in the last thirty years. So what happens when the youngest of the Bloodstone family decides to expand the pack business and leave the magic world behind to indulge in a different kind of hunt. Will he keep his place in the human world and sell his soul to the devil? When Balor Bloodstone comes out to play, all bets are off, or so he thought until a new player entered the game—putting him in the crossroads between salvation and damnation.

"What do you want?” Valencia snapped, her voice was furious and annoyed. Dominic merely looked at her dead in the eye, his gaze did not falter as he replied softly, "What I have always wanted…” He left the last word that was lingering on his tongue unspoken. “…you.” Valencia Raskin was the archon alpha; the alpha of the alphas who reigned the Sricgis forest and all the packs in it. The werewolf population was dwindling and she had to find a mate…soon. Who would she choose? The supremely charming alpha, Dominic Castro, who also happens to be her best friend, or the infuriatingly handsome mage, Calhoun Hawthorne, who might have a solution to all her growing problems?

My wife, wanting to spend a romantic birthday date with her first love, added a dose of sleeping medication to the milk bottle of our sick, crying daughter. The medicine took effect, and our daughter drifted into a deep sleep, which allowed them to enjoy a romantic, undisturbed date together. When I came home, I found our daughter still sleeping. By the time we arrived at the hospital, it was too late. I called my wife, but she answered with irritation. "Is it because I'm celebrating Shawn's birthday that you must ruin it? I'll go home after the celebration is over." Then, she turned off her phone. Little did she know that, for the sake of one romantic date, she had taken our daughter's life.

Alpha Jaxson is a playboy that always gets what he wants. The ladies fall at his feet and the money is rolling in. However, Alpha Jaxson has a dark side that he has learned to perfect. A hire for killer by night that has yet to never deliver. Scarlet had a rough childhood that has caused her to live outside the pack that her brother is the Alpha of. Although, they have a great relationship, Scarlet has built a live for herself doing what she does best with her friends. Together, they steal what was stolen in the first place and give it back to the owner. Scarlet finds herself with an enemy and with a Target on her back. Alpha Jaxson is hire to kill the thief but when he finds out the thief is his mate, will he fulfill the job requirement or accept her as his mate going against everything he wanted? Will he help protect her or will he leave her to fight her own battles?

When my husband told me to go bungee jumping, I did not scream. I did not cause a scene. I just nodded and said, "Okay." Keep in mind, I was eight months pregnant. I only agreed because I had already lived through this nightmare once before. In my past life, his precious childhood best friend, Lily Lane, had been feeling down. My husband, desperate to be her hero, told her he would make her one wish come true. Her wish? She wanted a partner to go bungee jumping with. My husband was terrified of heights, so he could not do it himself. Instead, he volunteered me. I refused on the spot, obviously. I told them I was not going to strap a harness over a baby bump and jump off a bridge. Lily got upset because I would not go. She went to a bar to drown her sorrows, and things went terribly wrong. Someone spiked her drink, and she was assaulted. She could not handle the trauma. She left a suicide note for my husband that read: "If I hadn't gone to the bar that night, would everything be different?" When my husband read that note, he snapped. He wrapped his hands around my throat. "Why didn't you just go with her?" he screamed, squeezing tighter. "Would it have killed you to just say yes?" He strangled me until everything went black. My unborn baby died with me. However, then, my eyes snapped open. I was back. I was standing right there in the moment my husband was asking me to jump.