Break The Rules By Charli Xcx Mga Nobela at Kwento

Have you ever escaped hell, only to land in the hands of the devil himself? Alpha Draven didn’t come to save Liora. He came to punish her. But the moment he sees her, something in his darkness shifts, something dangerous and forbidden and meant only for her. If you think you know what happens next, you don’t. Read on and discover the secret that changes everything.

"My husband sold me like property. But the man who bought me... he wants to make me his queen." For three years, Stacy has endured the unthinkable. Her husband Matt doesn't just neglect her—he sells her. Night after night, he forces her into the beds of wealthy investors and powerful business partners, using her body to seal his deals. An "open marriage," he calls it. But there's nothing open about being used as merchandise. "I was his business asset. His bargaining chip. His whore." At the Sterling Gala, Matt drugs her and delivers her to a room full of predators—five men ready to claim their "payment." But something inside Stacy finally breaks. She fights back. She runs. And crashes straight into the arms of Michael Sotheby—billionaire, corporate king, and the one man even her husband fears. "I didn't save you for free. You owe me a debt. And I intend to collect." Michael's protection comes with a price. What starts as a transaction becomes something far more dangerous. His touch doesn't feel like violation. His kiss awakens desires she thought were dead. For the first time in three years, she feels alive. But when morning comes, terror grips her heart. Michael isn't just any billionaire—he's Matt's biggest rival. And he has no intention of letting her go. Caught between the husband who sells her and the billionaire who wants to own her, Stacy discovers that sometimes the most dangerous man is the only one who can set you free. WARNING: This book contains mature themes including sexual coercion, trafficking within marriage, dubious consent, dark romance elements, and morally complex characters. Intended for adult readers only.

I had a unique profession. I was a breakup specialist. I did not need to go to court or write any contracts for that. That was a lawyer’s job. Everyone kept saying that love was priceless, but a couple who professed their love to each other for an entire night could be paying me tons to break their relationship up the following day. I was shaking my head upon those matters when I received a message from my husband, Matthew Grant, asking me to pick our wedding anniversary’s destination. A few seconds after that, a beautiful woman walked into my office. She appeared timid and had to take a lot of time to summon the courage to speak. “I’d like to hire your services for my boyfriend. He has decided to divorce his wife.” I made no comment as I picked up the documents she had handed me, only to see Matthew’s name on the paper. I froze, while the woman sitting in front of me ducked her head and continued, “My boyfriend says that his wife is a good person and that he doesn’t want to hurt her.” I smiled as I stared at the picture; it clearly was Matthew, but I had the strange feeling of seeing a foreign person too. My heart throbbed, and I could only lament. This was my third year as a breakup specialist, and I was actually hired to break up my own relationship.

One punch turned the campus “Ice King” into a national pariah, and now the only person who can save his career is the girl who wants to see him fail. Leo Thorne had it all: captaincy, NHL scouts, and a reputation as untouchable. But when a rival player targets the one wound that never healed, Leo snaps. The viral footage labels him violent, unstable, and dangerous, and suddenly the future he built on the ice begins to collapse. Maya Ellison, a sharp-tongued film student, wants nothing to do with athletes, especially Leo. To her, he’s arrogant, spoiled, and worshipped for all the wrong reasons. But when her scholarship and senior project funding are threatened, she’s forced into an impossible deal: direct a reality-style redemption series designed to fix Leo’s image. The catch? The university announces that Maya is Leo Thorne’s secret girlfriend. Now they’re trapped in a fake relationship built for cameras, clicks, and damage control. Between staged dates, scripted interviews, jealous rivals, and producers hungry for drama, Maya and Leo spend more time fighting than flirting. “I can’t stand you,” Maya snaps after another disastrous shoot. Leo smirks, stepping closer. “Funny. I was about to say the same thing.” But somewhere between the lies and the spotlight, the act starts feeling dangerously real. Maya begins to see the grief Leo hides behind the Ice King mask, while Leo realizes the only person who refuses to worship him might be the only one who truly sees him. In a world where every touch is staged and every kiss is content, falling in love could ruin them both. Or it could be the one thing that finally saves them.

When I'm done putting my daughter, Alani Carter, to sleep, I suddenly come across a social media post. "My husband, who's always been uncaring about the household matters, suddenly decides to be more engaging and helpful recently. What's the reason behind his change in behavior?" The comments in that comment section cut to the chase immediately. "Oh, there's no doubt about the answer. Either he's having an affair behind your back, or he wants your money." As soon as I leave a like on the answer, my husband, Michael Carter, who has never cared about Alani before, suddenly asks me, "What sort of homework does Alani have today?" That's when I notice the parents' group chat on my phone, where Demi Miller's mother, Yvette Miller, has tagged Michael there abruptly. "Mr. Carter, what's tonight's homework?" He has responded to her immediately, "Give me a moment. I'll send you the list later." I glance at the time. It's already 10:30 pm. We've been married for so many years, and yet Michael has never responded to any of my WhatsApp messages on time before. I secretly tap on Yvette's profile picture, only to find out that her social media feed is filled with coincidental meetings with Michael. Apparently, she has met him coincidentally at the amusement park, at a bookstore, and even at a family restaurant the three of us have frequented. When I pick Alani up from the kindergarten in the next evening, I happen to overhear Yvette telling another parent, "Alani's dad sure has a heart of gold! He even helps me take care of Demi! "Whenever I ask him questions regarding Demi, he's able to answer me on the spot. Parents who care this much about children are a rarity these days!" I continue the topic smilingly, "Isn't that right? Michael has never attended a single parent-child meeting related to his own daughter, and yet he's quite skilled in helping others raise their children." After that, I find myself a secluded corner, where I dial my lawyer's phone number immediately. "Have you prepared the divorce contract? I want him to leave this marriage without a single cent to his name!"

In my previous life, my three sons told me they wanted to set up a Family Bond Fund for me. Each of them would deposit three thousand dollars every month. I cried with gratitude, truly believing that decades of sacrifice had finally paid off. One of them even said, "Mom, you've given us so much. It's our turn to take care of you now." However, eight years later, I was told I have uremia. That was when I discover that the bank card, which supposedly held the fund, couldn't even cover the dialysis deposit. Soon after, my eldest son video-called me. He said he wanted to buy a better apartment in a good school district. He was short of 150 thousand dollars for the down payment and asked if I could lend it to him first. My second son came to the hospital with his wife and daughter. He didn't ask about my condition at all. Instead, he kept showing off his daughter's piano competition trophy, hinting that he needed 50 thousand dollars to enroll her in a prestigious international piano program. My youngest son was even more straightforward. He said he had his eye on a limited-edition pair of sneakers and wanted me to pay 30 thousand dollars for them as a birthday gift. The moment they realized the bank account didn't have enough money, their faces fell. "We each put in three thousand dollars every month. Over eight years, that's at least eight hundred thousand dollars. Mom, are you hiding the money from us?" To force me to reveal my savings, they took turns pressuring me, switching between sweet talk and threats. They even told relatives that I had dementia and had been scammed out of my money. Unable to take it anymore, I yanked out my IV late one night and walked out of the hospital, only to be hit by a car, dying instantly. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day of my hospital checkup.

On my wedding day, my best friend, Beatrice Hopper, buys a lottery ticket from a convenience store and gives it to me as a wedding gift. I initially believe that she's joking, but when I see the unmistakable disdain in her eyes, I know something is off. "They say it's the thought that counts. This gift is precisely how I show that I care. Besides, I'm pregnant and need money for everything right now. I don't want you to feel bad about taking my money," she says. Honestly, I'm disappointed. But since it's my wedding, I can only stand there and watch as my best friend drags her entire family to the reception for free food and drinks. As expected, the wedding ends on a sour note. The two of us part ways unhappily. What I don't see coming, though, is winning 50 million dollars in the lottery that night. Elated, I tell my husband the news, and we head to the lottery office first thing in the morning to claim the prize. The news quickly spreads among our friends and family. But by the afternoon, Beatrice pounds on my door, demanding I return the lottery ticket. "I should've been the winner!" she screamed. "I was the one who bought it, so why should you take away my prize?" I keep backing away from her, panic flooding my entire body, so much so that I don't even notice she's holding a knife. The last thing I expect is for her to swing it at me in the middle of our struggle. By the time I realize what's happening, the blade is already buried in my husband's chest. I try to call the police, but Beatrice yanks me back. We grapple, stumble, and crash through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Eventually, we fall to our deaths in the courtyard below. The universe must've had mercy on me because when I open my eyes again, I'm back at the moment she hands me that lottery ticket. Here comes my second chance.

Warning: THIS BOOK IS NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. Inside these pages are stories that will make your pulse race, your skin tingle, and your thoughts turn deliciously wicked. There’s dominance and surrender, sweetness and sin, soft whispers and rough hands. If you don’t like being teased, tempted, or broken in the best ways possible… TURN BACK NOW!!!!! ... Each story is a taste of something different — tender, wild, sweet, rough, soft, filthy. They’ll make you blush, gasp, and crave more. These are not just tales of lust — they’re stories of connection, of losing yourself in the moment, of bodies that speak louder than words. Some will make you sigh. Some will make you squirm. All of them will leave you wanting another page. So if you’re ready for a collection that makes your heart flutter and your skin burn… Step into the world of Touch Me Tender, Break Me Wild. Because love can be gentle... But sometimes, it’s so much better when it hurts just right.

Right after I am done with a meeting, I scroll through social media and come across a warning post with my company's location tagged. The title reads, "Avoid this place! Anyone who comes here is a sucker. The company is so stingy that it can't even provide decent snacks." The photos show the Starbucks drinks and five-star desserts I just asked my assistant to distribute to everyone. I frown and tag everyone in the group chat, asking for suggestions about the teatime snacks. A Gen Z intern, Alice Grimes, immediately sends a voice message, "No offense, Ms. Knox, but these mass-produced desserts are full of trans fats. Even dogs wouldn't eat them. A good company would hire Kitchelin chefs to cook on-site. Now that's called having true respect for employees." I laugh in disbelief. My company spends 50 dollars per person on daily tea time, which is considered top-tier in the industry. So, I reply, "Since it's hard to please everyone, we'll cancel teatime from now on and convert it into a cash allowance for everyone." Less than five minutes later, there is a new update in the social media post. "Guys, you won't believe this. I made a reasonable suggestion, and the petty boss just cut our teatime perk! This is how a typical capitalist behaves. They can't handle any honest feedback."

Half a year after our divorce, my ex-husband became a trending topic online. His current wife, who had just given birth, jumped off a building. When she jumped, she was clutching a printed, 98-page copy of the "Cloves Family Code of Conduct." The reason for her suicide? She couldn’t buy discounted groceries online. A reporter came to interview me and asked, "Excuse me, were you also given the same family rules?"