Novel & Cerita But The Duke Isn't Home

In Hollow Creek, there was an old custom: if you turned thirty and still were not married, the community chair would arrange for you to come home and meet potential matches. When I told Marcus about it, he laughed coldly. “What kind of backwoods tradition is that supposed to be? “Constance, I said I would marry you, and I will. But pressuring me is something else.” Then he took out the ring and casually handed it to Hannah. She accepted it with a blush. “I was going to propose,” he said. “But since you want to act like this, maybe we should cool off for a while.” The ring I had waited years for was handed to someone else like it meant nothing. For a moment, I just stood there, stunned. Marcus walked out of my office with an easy confidence, the corner of his mouth lifted in a victorious smile. Hannah held the ring out to me. I did not take it. “Keep it,” I said. “Wasn’t it meant for you anyway? “You wear it. It suits you.” Her face went pale. I showed her to the door. Before closing it, I said, “Tell Mr. Vale that he and I are done.”

The Duke was standing in the middle of the room, his hands in his pockets, his head tilted to one side. It was a relaxed, casual pose, and yet the way he looked at her was anything but casual. The deep midnight of his eyes burned and he radiated a subtle, sensual energy that made the air around him crackle. He looked like a man who’d never heard the word ‘no’ in all his life. Unluckily for him, ‘no’ was the only word she had. “There's no reason why I should stay,” Anna clasped her shaking hands together in an effort to still them. “I’m not marrying you.” His gaze flickered, his mouth curving slightly, and she had the disturbing thought that far from putting him off, her insistence was only inciting him further. “But you haven’t heard my proposal yet,” he said mildly. “Isn’t that why you’re here?” “I don’t need to hear it. I already know that my answer will be no.” “Of course. But you can hardly tell your father that you heard me out when you haven’t, in fact, heard me out…. Anna.”

Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | 18+ | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Pace It started with a kiss I don’t remember giving. A rooftop. A moan. Someone’s fingers buried in my hair like they belonged there. A mouth on my throat that said I tasted like something they lost in another life. I wasn’t dreaming. The city was already cracking beneath me. Power grids flickering like dying stars. Tech failing. Screens static. The sky bruising in strange new colors. Everyone said it was coincidence. Collapse. Noise. But I knew better. The moment I felt her breath on my skin — even if I couldn’t see her — I knew the end had already arrived. And I had something to do with it. Ten butterflies followed me after that. Not literal ones. Not always. They shimmered in my periphery. Each the wrong color. Each too vivid. Each drawn to me like heat to blood. They touched me in dreams. They watched me when I undressed. They whispered without words. I could taste their want. Some called me cursed. Broken. Unstable. But the truth is simpler. I’m blooming again — and they all feel it. They don’t love me. They remember me. They remember what I used to be — what I still am, underneath the silence. One of them burned me with just a kiss. One broke my spine with kindness. One slid her hand under my shirt like it was always hers. One cries when she touches me. One never speaks, but her eyes dig. One wants to keep me. One wants to ruin me. And one just wants to finish what we started. They think I’m choosing. I’m not. My body already did. And now the bloom inside me is turning darker.

I had an apartment at Westbridge Residences that had been empty since I got married. That day, the management called me. "Ms. Irwing, can you ask your tenant to be more careful when hanging laundry? Water dripped from their clothes and soaked a blanket downstairs." Then, they sent me a photo. Wet sexy lingerie hung on the balcony, with a pair of familiar men's underwear next to it. My heart sank, and I called my husband immediately. "Did you rent out the apartment at Westbridge Residences?" My husband went quiet for two seconds, then laughed. "Whoops! I was going to surprise you, but I guess you found out. I'll give you the rent when I get home." I pretended to be happy about it and praised him for helping bring in more money for the family. After hanging up, I turned around and went straight to the Westbridge Residences.  

I was adopted. They were so good to me that every night before I fell asleep, I prayed to grow up healthy and happy in this home. Then Mom got pregnant. I hid under my covers and cried all night, quietly packing the little suitcase I had arrived with. But they didn't send me away. They loved me even more. The day my brother was born, Mom took my hand and gently stroked my head. "Having an older sister," she said, "is why we have a younger brother." Dad lifted me above his head and spun me around laughing. "Lily is our family's lucky star — our most beloved baby!" I finally stopped dreading every single day. I thought I had truly become part of this family. Then my brother snapped my favorite Barbie in half. I pushed him. He stumbled, sat on the floor, stared for two seconds, and burst into tears. Mom panicked, shoved me aside, and pulled him into her arms, asking over and over if he was hurt. Dad came running. He grabbed my shoulders and slammed me against the wall, eyes blazing. "Is this what I raised you all these years for — to bully your brother? Believe me when I say I will send you straight back to—"

“…If she gets close to me by chance, I’ll be force to separate you from her.” He threatened his wife. “If we aren’t welcome, we may as well leave your house and go back to where we came from.” She replied boldly. “And you think I’ll allow you to go that easily?…You’re my wife and whatever I say stands. Don’t think you can get away from me easily.” ******************************************* Rebecca’s only desire is to be with the one she thinks loves her. But her heart gets broken when he leaves her and ends the relationship. She conceals her pregnancy and deals with her burden alone. Duke Williams seeks her hand in marriage and marries her, well aware that she is pregnant with another’s child. As she lives with her husband, she realizes the true reasons why he had married her. Duke Williams has been her secret admirer, obsessed with her beauty and only wants her for himself. Rebecca’s love life gets threatened when her child’s father returns and an unexpected ex moves into her husband’s house. Will she be able to save everything she loves or let her home fall apart?

Do you believe in soul-mate? Fate, say those who believe. Nonsense, said those who didn't believe. The red string that connects people. Do you know the string was not only for lovers but also for those we call family? Do you believe the thin crimson thread could connect not only love but also something more than that? Henry was a ghost, a lost soul. The man had no memories of his past life. He couldn't move on or reincarnate, he only wanted to end his misery, the loneliness and the emptiness. Being led by a mysterious source, he then met a girl named Tania. The girl could see supernatural beings and her family who were also full of extraordinary people. After being alone for a long time, Henry found something called family once again. Along the way, Tania helped Henry to find an answer to his problem of being a lost soul. Together they found out more than Henry's past life and the truth behind the boy's life. Sometimes you would find more than what you seek, be it for good or for bad purpose.

On the day a dispute broke out between my students, I saw Samantha again—the girl I had broken up with ten years ago; the girl who had been fighting wiped away her tears and cried out for her mother. Samantha froze when she saw me. After a long moment, she seemed to remember herself and quickly apologized. "Mr. Brooke, I'm sorry for causing you trouble." I handled the compensation matter strictly by the book. When everything was settled, she lingered behind the others, clearly wanting to speak but hesitating. "I remember you didn't want to be a teacher back then," she said. I smiled faintly and walked her to the office door. "People change. So do their thoughts." Just like my feelings for her—those had been turned over long ago.

In the Beast World, elven bloodlines can produce stronger half-breed offspring. After the Great War of the Ancient Races, elves began to classify themselves by the integrity of their wings. Substandard elves could purchase and tame werewolves to serve as their lifelong guards and companions. Before my parents passed away, they ordered a werewolf named Nolan to protect me—and, incidentally, to produce offspring. But that werewolf, who was exceptional in every way, despised me intensely. He would often berate me: “A deformed, worthless elf like you should just disappear. You’re not fit to be my mate!” After he smashed every item in the house yet again, I fled the house in a panic. By chance, I stumbled into an abandoned shelter, where a massive gray wolf’s paw reached out from the shadows and gripped my shoulder. The werewolf’s deep, golden eyes gestured for me to look at the sign standing nearby: ‘Defective Models: Trade -In Welcome.’ Tears welled in his eyes as a low, choked sob escaped his throat: “Master… take me home.” He was right. It was time to replace the one at home with a new one. But when I told Nolan to move out of my house, he braced his paws against the doorframe, his eyes red-rimmed: “You’re abandoning me just for that wild wolf?”

After following my grandfather abroad for five years of training, he finally entrusted me with the family authority—something he had given me with complete satisfaction. But my stepmother and my three younger stepbrothers were anything but pleased. Ever since I returned home, they had been blasting those ridiculous "real heiress versus fake heiress" dramas throughout the house, day after day. Sometimes openly, sometimes in veiled remarks, they hinted that I didn't resemble my father at all. On the day of my twentieth birthday—my official debut before the public—they even brought in a complete stranger and tried to brand me as the impostor. My stepmother looked at me, the corner of her lips curling in disdain. "Where did this counterfeit come from? Even if you're wearing a stolen gown, you can't hide that cheap, shabby air about you." My three younger stepbrothers shoved me to the ground, shielding the girl beside them—the one wearing my family's heirloom necklace. "We only have one sister, and that's Camellia! Wherever you came from, go back there!" In an instant, the guests' mocking gazes all converged on me. And in the very next second, I stepped forward and slapped my stepmother across the face. "If anyone should be leaving, it's you. Take a good look at what this is!" Then, the moment they saw what I was holding in my hand, the entire room fell into stunned silence.