Calling Chica

My dad’s crush came back, and my mom decided to fake her death. “Jane, I’m the main character of a tragic story. If I don’t fake my death now, I’ll end up miserable. “Go tell your dad that Quiana killed me.” In my past life, I had done exactly as she said. My dad had flown into a rage and destroyed the Sullivan family. After that, my mom returned to the land of the living. I thought our family would finally be whole again. Instead, she clung to Dad and cried. “I gave Jane my contact information. How could she say I was dead?” To punish me, my dad locked me in a cold storage room. My mom shot me a cold look. “That’s what you get for calling that woman pretty.” In the cold storage room, at −58°F, I froze to death. When I opened my eyes again, my mom had already faked her death and ran off with her devoted admirer. I looked at my dad and asked with an innocent expression, “Dad, what does eloping mean?”

The day I was supposed to win the biggest award of my career, I walked in on my boyfriend, Ethan, in bed with another woman. He sneered, calling me a face-blind, scent-deaf bore in bed. I planned to expose his ass at the award ceremony. Instead, he and his lover mowed me down with their car. Next thing I knew, I woke up with them in an S-class horror survival game. Mortality rate: over 95%. We had to survive ten days in a haunted manor to be revived. Hit 100 on your Anxiety Level, and your soul is obliterated. Chloe, Ethan's lover, sneered. "Sensory defects? You can't recognize ghosts or smell danger. In a horror game, that’s a death sentence. You might as well just die." The others heard her and scrambled to team up. Me? I walked straight into the lair of the manor's final boss. The most powerful demon in the game wanted to devour my soul. I couldn't really see him. I just thought he was a cosplayer. I lunged forward, poked his abs, and pointed at the glowing crack in his chest. "Wow, you're really committed to the role. This getup must've cost a fortune."

No puedes odiar a un extraño. Solo puedes odiar a la persona a la que amaste una vez.Xander Baston es un mujeriego que no le importa a donde se mete. Es despiadado, arrogante y cruel de toda la historia.Aoife Marshall es una chica dulce e inocente que recientemente se unió a la universidad para cumplir sus sueños. Desde que sus ojos se cruzaron con los de ella, no pudo evitar desearla… ¿Qué sucederá cuando sus mundos colisionen?El trata de ser amable con ella, de olvidarse de su verdadera naturaleza y de sus instintos más bajos. Por otro lado, ¿ella se olvidará de sus sueños y lo rechazará?* Cruel amor.* Romance universitario.* Lento, lento deseo que quema.* Fantasías sexuales.* Desamor.

After I refused for the eighth time to give my daughter a monthly allowance of $80, she went live online to denounce me. During the broadcast, she shared screenshots of our messages, showing how she had repeatedly and desperately asked me for money after the new school term began. "Mom, I just got my period. I do not have money to buy sanitary pads. Could you send me this month's allowance?" I replied calmly, "No." "Mom, I have not eaten in three days. I am really hungry." I responded with sarcasm. "What does that have to do with me?" The screen quickly filled with comments calling me suffocatingly cruel and heartless. Looking straight into the camera, she sobbed uncontrollably. "Mom, I am not asking for much. I only need $80 a month for living expenses. "Do you really have to push me to death before you feel satisfied?" Within a short time, I became the target of widespread online abuse. A well-known education influencer reached out to me. "It is only $80. It is not something you cannot afford. Why are you treating your own daughter so harshly?" I looked at her calmly. "Try livestreaming seven days of life with me and my daughter. "If you can do that, you'll understand."

When I was ten, I bugged my brother to come home for my birthday. He died in a plane crash that day. They never found his body. After that, my parents saw me as a total screw-up. They blamed me for his death. Every year on his memorial day, they forced me to kneel at the cemetery and repent my mistakes. I did that for eight years. I figured I'd spend my whole life paying for it. But on my 18th birthday, some creep stalked and murdered me. Right before I died, I tried calling for help. But my mom chewed me out. "I bet you're just dodging your duty to make up for James. You're full of crap. If you hadn't forced him to come back, he would have been alive. This is what you deserve." She hung up, leaving me staring at the dead screen. My last hope was dashed. She was right. Someone like me meant nothing but bad luck to those around me. I didn't deserve to exist. But then, eight years after his death, James showed up with his pregnant wife. When they heard I was gone, they fell apart.

I gave everything to save my fated mate, Alpha Austen. I even lost our pups. Twice. But he gave all the credit to his adoptive sister, Seraphina. He called me weak. Useless. He always chose her tears over my scars. He even stood by as her poison shattered my wolf spirit. As I lay dying, I watched him hold my killer and whisper, “I know it wasn’t your fault. This was her fate.” Then I opened my eyes. And I was back. Back before it all went wrong. This time, I’m done explaining. Done sacrificing. Right in front of him, I disguised a potion that would sever our mate bond as a "blessing elixir" and held it to his lips. “My love,” I said, “drink this. It’ll help you comfort your poor little sister.” He drank it without a second thought. In thirty days, under the Blood Moon, our mate bond will be severed for good. But only when I was truly gone did he finally regret it. He knelt before me, again and again, calling himself my fated mate. Begging me to take him back.

On the night that Lioraé was supposed to get engaged, she found her boyfriend with not one but three women laughing and calling her boring. She – angry at herself and all the years she wasted on him – determines not to hold back again. She is going to give one night to the next man she sees. Soren Vale, a dangerously breathtaking and strikingly rich billionaire, happens to be her victim. They tumble into bed and spend the night together. He is very much unlike everything she has ever known. One night is all she asked for, just one night to forget. Lioraé does not expect her world to take a huge turn until she walks into her new job on Monday, only to discover that her one-night stand is her boss. Now Soren is holding her tightly because he wants her. He wants her close, in his penthouse, in his arms and on his bed. He treats her special and makes her feel things she had never felt before, things she would never want to admit out loud. When she discovers she is carrying his child, the only line between them blurs, making her the billionaire’s obsession – the man she can’t walk away from. Now they both have to figure out what love and obsession have in common.

My wife, Sarah, died unexpectedly. My in-laws made an absurd request. "Why not have Stella play both roles? After all, Luke can't be without a mother." My brother-in-law, Greg, yelled at me, calling me shameless, and stormed out in anger. I looked at my sister-in-law, Stella, who looked exactly like my late wife. I could hardly conceal my grief. I was about to urge them to abandon their ridiculous idea, when I accidentally overheard a conversation between her and her parents. "It was Stella who died, so why did you lie and claim it was you?" Sarah sighed. "I love Greg. I staged my death so I could be with him legitimately. As for asking me to play both roles, don't even bring it up again. As for Michael, I have already given him a child and a respectable marriage. I owe him nothing." Turning around, I saw Luke with reddened eyes, asking me softly, "Daddy, does that mean that Mommy no longer wants us?" I bent down and pulled him into my arms, forcing myself to soothe him. "Your Aunt Stella wants to protect the person that she loves. We shouldn't bother her. It's time for us to prepare a new life."

Seven years after I lost my wolf, I watched my mate, Alpha Glen, get his heart ripped out and his body torn apart. The pack demanded the killer's name. I bit through my tongue and kept my mouth shut. Lena, Glen's childhood friend, hated me with everything she had. Six-year-old Nick cried and asked why I hadn't saved his father. I shoved them all away. Then the pack broke my leg and cast me out. For fifteen years, I drifted. I barely stayed alive in a dead northern town, wolfsbane buried in my bones, one leg ruined, half-crippled, waiting to die like some rogue. The day the door crashed open, Nick was already Alpha. He grabbed my chin, his eyes burning with pure hate. "You hid the murderer. You don't deserve to be my mother. "Take her back to Thanis. Strap her to the Mindfang Rig. I want the truth—even if that machine kills her." I thought that device would kill me. But when the truth was finally ripped into the open, Nick dropped to his knees and broke down, calling me Mother. Lena wanted to die to beg my forgiveness. And the whole pack lost its mind.

On my wedding night, I was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance after a tampered condom left me in excruciating pain. The surgery took over twenty-four hours, and the story spread like wildfire. My husband, Alexander, let it be known that anyone who managed to photograph me in my post-surgery state would be rewarded with ten million dollars. Overnight, I went from being a billionaire's new wife to the laughingstock of every elite circle in New York. The next day, Alexander's childhood sweetheart Dahlia showed up at my door. That was when I learned the truth: she'd coated the condom with industrial-strength adhesive as part of what she called a "social experiment." She didn't show a shred of remorse. Her tone was flippant and cruel: "It was just an experiment. I mean, how was I supposed to know you'd react like that? Besides, we both know you were never good enough for Alexander. So drop the act." Alexander stood beside her, his gaze cold and dismissive: "If it weren't for the marriage contract, no one would've touched you. You know that, right?" What he didn't know was that the woman he was calling a slut had saved his life more times than he could count.