Breeding My Daughter

My daughter was being slandered at the werewolf aristocratic high school. The other party threatens my daughter, saying that her father, one of the most powerful Alphas in the territory, will soon have my daughter kicked out of school. But the father they called for backup turned out to be my mate, Derek. When I saw Emma, her hair was a mess, her clothes disheveled and torn, with tear stains still fresh on her face. My heart ached. Rage surged through me. Across from us stood a glamorous she-wolf, her chin lifted high with arrogance. "So what if my daughter slandered yours? Look at what you're wearing. You're nothing but poor Omega wolves." The girl who had spread rumors about my daughter was equally brazen. "My father is a major shareholder of this academy. If you dare defy me, I can have trash like you expelled in minutes!" But the father who arrived in a luxury SUV to back them up, dressed in an expensive tailored suit—wasn't that my mate Derek? When Derek saw Emma and me, he frowned, clearly surprised. I let out a cold laugh. "Derek, so you have another family and another daughter now?"

Our daughter, Luna Woods, developed a high fever. Her body was burning hot. I immediately dialed 911 for help. The dispatcher on the other end kept repeating his questions. He spoke slowly, as if deliberately stalling for time. By the time I finally heard the ambulance siren, Luna was already turning cold in my arms. In less than a year, my wife and I separated. We were consumed by endless grief and blamed for each other. Afterward, I merely existed for the sake of it. I was a hollow shell of a man. Then, one day, I received a wedding invitation from my ex-wife. The moment I played the audio invitation, a chill ran down my spine. The groom’s voice was identical to that of the slow, dawdling dispatcher from that year! I rushed out, utterly distraught, only to be hit by a roaring train. When I opened my eyes again, I heard Luna crying in the next room. Her forehead was burning hot. My wife hurriedly handed me the phone. “Quick, call 911! I’ll get a wet towel.” My hands trembled as I took the phone. When it was answered, I heard a familiar male voice through the receiver. “911, what’s your emergency?”

After spending six months overseas expanding business, I had just closed a deal worth ten billion. Casually scrolling through the news, a headline made me stop dead in my tracks. [Shocking! Illegitimate Daughter Provokes Meyer Family Heiress, Teacher and Classmates Punish Her!] In the video, my daughter Maeve stood in the freezing snow wearing nothing but a tattered dress, her body covered in bruises. She was being forced to endure the cold, her little frame shivering uncontrollably. A female teacher poked at Maeve's head, ordering the entire class to call her a shameless illegitimate child. Maeve sobbed, insisting she wasn't, but all she got in return was crueler, more mocking laughter from everyone around her. Then a chubby little boy ran up and slapped her across the face. "Your mom's a mistress, and you're a filthy illegitimate child! You're both just gutter rats!" The teacher didn't stop him—she clapped her hands in approval. "That's right! The Meyer family heir isn't something just any nobody gets to pretend to be." "Besides, Mrs. Meyer picks up Clarisse every single day. Look at her—so elegant, clearly classy. And your homewrecker of a mother? Pathetic. She's not even in the same league." When I heard that last line, I slammed my laptop shut, shaking with rage. I turned to my assistant. "Book me the fastest private jet home. I want to see for myself exactly when Aaron, that worthless husband of mine, managed to father an illegitimate child."

“It’s payback time. Now that your sister needs to study abroad, you have to help the family. Marry Mr. Morrison.” The words were nonchalantly spoken while I was being thrown into a room. What doubles the pain is to hear these come from my own father, the person whom I never imagined slapping me with the truth that I am as valuable as an economic insurance. I am an investment daughter; my parents have groomed me to be their insurance in the future. I am their economic plan B if things go wrong… Should I obey or run? This is my life, and I have control over it!

"You know, red." He warned biting my lower lip. "I think we should try again with the spanking. I could make it more alluring. Make you love it." I felt my lower regions throb as his lips caressed my neck. His hands trailed down my body and found its way under my silky black nightdress. Tugging at the hem of my thong he then slipped in a finger and ran it up and down my hot wet slit ❦ The daughter of a Russian mob leader seems to catch the eye of his father's enemy. Will the Italian Don use The Russian Don's daughter as his plan to destroy his rival and fall in love with her or the father finds out himself and kills them both?

Anna Steine, twenty-nine-year-old divorced Los Angeles publisher, discovers a mysterious manuscript and learns she is the reincarnated daughter of a biblical queen from 366 BCE. Risking her company and romantic relationship with the author, she must fulfill a vow made centuries ago and break a curse that finally brings her true happiness and changes the world's view of a biblical heroine.

Iris “Prisoner……. Captive….. Slave…..” Those are little words when it comes down to me. My teenage was almost gone and when I saw myself standing in my adulthood, I realized I lost so many things including myself. Because I was his prisoner. I was Bratva’s captive and he left no stone unturned to teach me who is the owner of my life. “Regret?” “I regret the day when I stepped in his mansion blinded by vengeance. And he showed no mercy. I regret my impulsive decision and many more. But above all, I regret being the puppet of his hand.” Dimitrios “I don't have the word mercy in my rule book.” “But she is a kid.” “Doesn't matter. What matters is, she is an assassin's daughter and his father is not alive to pay for his deeds.” Copyright 2021-2022 by Irene Davison (Esperanza)

I never believed in second chances. Not after Cynthia. She was my confidant… until death tore her from me and left this mansion echoing with ghosts. Inilibing ko na rin ang puso ko kasabay ng pakamatay ni Cynthia . She was my wife. My peace. My mistake. Then her daughter moved in. Liza. The forbidden reminder of everything I shouldn’t want—young, alive, reckless in ways her mother never was. She looks at me like she sees through the monster I’ve become. Sa tuwing ngingiti siya,  the ache in my chest returns—violent, dangerous, hungry. Every brush of her skin ignites something I can’t bury anymore. I tell myself it’s guilt. I tell myself I’m just protecting her. Pero ang totoo? I want her. Hindi bilang stepdaughter. Not as Cynthia’s child. I want her as mine—completely, ruinously, irredeemably mine. They’ll call me a sinner. A man who crossed the line. Ngunit sa tuwing tinitingnan ako ni Liza, trembling, wanting... I knew I’d already crossed it. I tell myself I’m protecting her, but each night, the lie weakens. Because when she looks at me, it isn’t fear I see—it’s want. And God help me... I want her too. This isn’t love. It’s a beautiful disaster. And I’d burn the world just to feel her breathe my name again.

My husband's ex-girlfriend left behind a cat that could nurse my daughter like a woman. I turned on my camera and livestreamed this horrifying scene. The stream instantly went viral, and people approached me offering high prices for the cat. When I agreed to sell it, my husband went crazy, clutching the cat and screaming that it could not be sold. Even my sister-in-law, who had always doted on me, furiously yelled at me for being brainless. In my previous life, I accidentally discovered the cat in our house nursing my daughter. I was terrified when I saw my daughter's satisfied expression! What made me feel even more horrified was that the cat's chest area had no fur at all. It was smooth and delicate, like a nursing woman's. Moreover, this cat usually either bared its teeth at me or scratched me with its claws. Every night, it slept in my husband's arms. Thinking of all this made my skin crawl, and I immediately decided to throw the cat out. Unexpectedly, my usually gentle and refined husband became incredibly frenzied. "I raised this cat with my own hands. It's no different from my child! If you dare throw away my cat, then we're getting divorced!" My sister-in-law also urged me to keep the cat. She even gave me sleeping pills, claiming I had been under too much stress lately. That night, my daughter died in my arms, and I also died in bed from excessive grief. Only after my death did I learn that the cat was my husband's ex, and my daughter was the medium for her life exchange. Their true purpose was to steal my body. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day I was just discharged from the hospital.

Extremely crazy and confusing night, she was slept by her stepfather's son. Her young and tender daughter's body blossomed underneath him, being watched carefully and desecrated with abandon, so shy that she couldn't help herself. He is a powerful and domineering CEO, arrogant and unrivaled in authority. With his cold and aloof demeanor, he impulsively confines the daughter of his stepmother, gradually developing the habit of protecting her and nurturing an obsession to dote on her. The deep-seated infatuation leaves her with no escape. He says, "I allow you to be willful, but you must be willful within the limits I set. When you gave yourself to me as a birthday gift, you became mine for life! From head to toe, you are all mine!"