Calling Visa Artinya

Kane has spent her whole life believing she was ordinary. Just a quiet girl with a strange past and a father who refuses to talk about her mother's death. But one reckless night-when she's bitten by a rogue wolf-something ancient stirs inside her. Heat burns beneath her skin; her senses sharpen, and a howl rises in her chest. A howl she was never supposed to have. Aria is no ordinary girl. She is the last descendant of the ancient werewolf royal line, one whose power was sealed when her human father's dominant genes buried her mother's legacy. Until now. But as her powers grow stronger, so do the shadows of her mother's world. Ancient enemies awaken. Centuries-old prophecies whisper her name. And worst of all, there is the person close to her, one whom she had trusted, determined to claim her power for themselves. Torn between a modern world she knows and an ancient world calling her home, Aria must make a choice: become prey… or heir to a blood-soaked throne. Yet there is always a cost with power. and hers may be her heart.

PEYTON Bullied, beaten, and left for dead is not the way I planned to celebrate Alpha Bane’s return. I’m safe and alive—for now. Until Bane himself appears wide-eyed, panting, and calling me his mate. The handsome older brother to the psychopath who’s declared me his favorite prey. I refuse to be his mate. His luna. Not when I know what his family is capable of, what HE is capable of. So I do the only thing I can. I reject him and I run. BANE She was perfect, everything I imagined. The goddess finally fulfilled my deepest desires. Peyton Samuels, the cute little omega I’ve wanted for years, is officially mine. But it was just a dream, an illusion easily shattered by her rejection. If she thought she could leave without a fight, she’s sorely mistaken. I’ll do whatever it takes to bring my luna home, even if I have to destroy my family to do it. Run all you want, little mouse, but I’m the alpha and I’ll always catch what’s mine.

After Mom passed, it was just me and Dad, depending on each other. I’ve always had poor health, and people used to taunt me, calling me a “sickly, doomed child.” He kneeled by my bedside, making a promise. “I swear, I’ll get you the best treatment, no matter what. You’ll never suffer again!” Eventually, he became a powerful CEO, going so far as to buy an entire private villa just so I could recover in peace. However, his assistant assumed I was his mistress.  She came in with a group of security guards and surrounded me. “So, you’re the cripple who’s been seducing Mr. Johnson?” “Let’s see if you can still act high and mighty after I’m done with you!” She kicked over my wheelchair, yanked me by the hair, scratched up my face, and finally cut off my hand. Barely clinging to life, I lay there until Dad came back. She held up my severed hand, presenting it to him. “Mr. Johnson, this was a spy sent by a rival company. I took care of her for you.”

Camilla is used to getting every thing she needs. But what happens when she bites a little more than she can chew? Camilla May McKenna is convinced her best friend's boyfriend is cheating on her. But to prove this to Faye, her best friend, she must get evidence of this cheating. And so, begins the quest to stalk and capture Vanya in the act. But fate has other plans in store for her. When news break out about Vanya's marriage, she seizes that chance as the perfect opportunity to crash his wedding and exact her revenge. If you hurt her best friend, you hurt her, and she won't let it go. Maksim is getting married to someone he doesn't love. That's how it has always been in their family, so it's no big deal to him. But when a lady storms into the church on his wedding day, wailing and calling him names for cheating on her, the wedding is cancelled. The cancellation cost him a lot. And he's not one to take this lying down. So, he sets out to find this crazy chic who thought it okay to crash his wedding and lie to his face.

The housekeeper, who was always punctual, was late today. "Madam, I'm so sorry… dinner isn't ready yet. Please don't be upset with me…" "But this time, there was no helping it. I waited downstairs for over half an hour, and no one swiped in. I even called Mr. Gregory, but he didn't answer. That's why I'm late." My hand froze mid-motion as I was changing shoes, and a frown creased my brow. "Lydia," I said, "didn't I have Richard give you the access card?" Lydia Pendel froze, her face blank. "Access card? Mr. Gregory never gave me one." "Never?" I repeated. "Yes," she said, wiping the sweat from her forehead, her voice careful. "All this past month, I've been sneaking in whenever another resident opened the door, or calling Mr. Gregory so he could let me in. "Today, Mr. Gregory didn't answer at all, so I was stuck downstairs, feeling helpless…" That was strange. Because over the past month, the electronic lock on the front gate had clearly recorded swipes from that backup card.

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."

The supplementary card I've issued for my grandmother shows that an eight-thousand-dollar purchase has taken place in another city. But the transaction records show that the money is used on hymenoplasty. I'm shell-shocked, to say the least. Grandma is 84 years old this year. She's been bedridden and paralyzed for years. Why would she even get hymenoplasty done on her, to begin with? But when my investigation leads me to a plastic surgery hospital, I find out that my wife, Stella Watson, is actually the lead doctor of said clinic. So, I call her to demand answers from her. However, Stella refuses to answer my questions properly. "Don't worry, honey. Something's most likely wrong with the system. Betsy is already this old—why would she have her hymen repaired?" That's just a bullshit answer coming from her. She seriously thinks I'm gullible enough to believe her. I merely huff coldly in return before calling my dad, who works in the Department of Commerce. "Dad, Stella is most likely cheating on me. I want her plastic surgery hospital as compensation for my impending divorce!"

On the day that I returned to the country, Lola Lawson, the one who was once the love of my life for ten years, sent me a picture of a baby. She told me to think of a name and meet her at the city hall to register the baby, as she had prepared a welcome-home gift for me. So, I rushed over with bags full of baby supplies. But when I arrived, she and her girlfriends were bent over with ridicule and laughter. "I told you! Even though he was gone for a year, he's still a loyal lapdog! Just a wave of my hand and he'd even be willing to raise someone else's kid for me!" She sized me up with mocking amusement. "Kevin Sheraton. How could you still be this naive? Just one joke and you come running?" They laughed without any restraint, calling me names and hurling insults, saying I'd do anything for Lola. But when I walked past them and took a number to register my own child's birth, and later wrapped my arm around my wife as the three of us took a family portrait, Lola's eyes were completely reddened with tears.

Late one night, I was scrolling through social media and stumbled upon a trending post. "Does your husband ever say you're obsessed with your brother?" One comment sat at the top with thousands of likes. The profile picture showed a cartoon girl covering her mouth, laughing. "Oh, I can answer this one! My husband used to say that too, but here's the thing: he's actually the son I had when I was 19!" Every word oozed with smug satisfaction. Some commenters tore into her, calling her manipulative and her husband a total sucker. She only got bolder. She posted a screenshot of a bank transfer with the details blurred out, right next to a photo of limited-edition sneakers. "All my son had to say was he liked them, and my husband caved! Then he gave him extra cash for a fancy dinner!” "A guy like this? If I don't milk him, who will?" I stared at the sneakers and the transfer amount. They matched exactly what I had bought for my "brother-in-law" that afternoon and the money I had just sent him. Down to the last cent. Ice shot through my veins. That sucker she was bragging about? That was me.

He worshiped her like a goddess. She let another man make her moan. Duncan Moretti had everything—power, wealth, control. Women wanted him, men feared him. But when Aphrodite walked into his world, she didn’t want his money… she wanted his soul. And he gave it to her. Every kiss, every whispered promise, every desperate moan—he thought they meant something. He planned the perfect proposal, ready to give her forever. Until she didn’t show up. Until she arrived hours late—smiling like she hadn’t just crushed him. Until a man walked in uninvited, laughing, calling her home. And when Duncan followed her, broken and burning, he saw it all with his own eyes—Aphrodite naked under another man, moaning his name like she once moaned his. Now Duncan isn’t the man who fell to his knees. He’s the man who’s rising—with revenge in his blood and nothing left to lose. She wanted to be worshiped? He’ll make sure she remembers exactly how it feels.