Can't Escape

Damon moreau is a powerful tech billionaire who survives through control.Raised by an absent father and a morally grounded mother, Damon learned early that vulnerability was dangerous. After his father's suicide following corporate betrayal, damon became emotionally closed off, relying heavenly on his mother, Evenlyn as his moral compass and emotional anchor. That anchor shatters when Evelyn is killed in an assassination attempt meant for Damon. Unknown to damon, the man behind the trigger is luca raines an elite assassin shaped by childhood abuse and years inside a private military syndicate run by Adrian kessler. Luca has never hesitated on a job before,but when he sight Damon through his scope something breaks his bullet misses Damon and instead killed Evenlyn when she steps in to the line of fire. Wracked with guilt Luca accepts Adrian's next order embed himself in damon's security detailed as his personal bodyguard,waiting waiting for the second opportunity to finish the contract. Damon grieving and paranoid,hired enhanced protection. Luca enters his life as a silent guardian, hiding the truth that he caused damon's deepest loss.

Verssa Yanng, at a youthful nineteen years of age, boasts an undeniable allure, his striking visage, height six feet in stature, lean yet sturdy. His attractiveness is undeniable; he possesses a universally pleasing look that captivates from every angle. By the tender age of eighteen, Vers had already ascended to the summit of the fashion world as a coveted Top Super Model, dominating the runways of fashion weeks across nearly all continents. At nineteen, his cameo appearance in a movie unexpectedly seized the spotlight, with the supporting role eclipsing even the film's protagonist. Yet, the rosy facade of fame conceals its thorns. Beneath the dazzle lay the shadows of terror: malevolent letters, corrosive threats, and the persistent nocturnal intrusion of rabid fans knocking on his apartment door. Vers recalls having relocated over five times due to the relentless leakage of his whereabouts to his fanatic followers. One night, after a midnight shoot, Vers almost get kidnaped by a group that blocked his car and forcibly pulled him out. An escape landed him in a hospital bed, where he awoke to the presence of a mysterious figure in black. Gale Anderson, a former war veteran turned professional bodyguard, now stands as a sentinel for Vers. A very quiet and mysterious man, handsome yet frigid. His countenance rarely betrays emotion, six feet and five inches tall. His broad hands lifted Vers's slight frame with ease that rendered him akin to a mere child in his grasp. His aura is shrouded in enigma, withholding the identity of his employer, yet his mission remains unwavering: to keep Vers safe by any means necessary. For Vers, unfortunately, it's like a living nightmare; his freedom was robbed as his watchful bodyguard trailed him incessantly, even to the restroom.

My fiancé's older brother was into girls with tiny waists. He wanted to marry my foster sister—the one with the twenty-one-inch waist. Their wedding? Same day Eric and I were supposed to get hitched. When he found out, Eric begged me to swap with Briana. "Lena, it's always been Briana. If your family hadn't found you, she wouldn't have had to play fake heiress, and I wouldn't be stuck with you." I stayed quiet. He kept digging. "Chill. My brother won't even touch you. Once the dust settles, I'll bring you back—as my side piece." Staring at that fake, slimy smile, I felt a little out of it. Last time, I told him no—and still ended up married to him, beaten until I died. Then I woke up. Same day. Same plea from Eric. This time, I handed them exactly what they wanted. "Fine. I'll marry him." Eric lit up like he'd won. Didn't last long. Next thing I knew, he was out in the rain, on his knees, clutching his head, sobbing, begging me to leave his brother and come back.

For my birthday, my husband, Don Damien, gave me his dead wife’s pearls. I wore them to the dinner party. My enraged stepson, Leo, doused me in red wine. I became the laughingstock of the party. “You whore,” he hissed. “You think wearing my mother’s jewelry makes you her?” He stared at me, his eyes cold as ice. Then he screamed. "Get out of my house." But his mother died when he was a baby. I raised him. Someone had whispered poison in his ear. They told him I was the one who killed his mother. Now he thinks I'm a scheming bitch who tricked his father. And his father? My husband? He never saw me. He only saw Krista’s ghost. My heart didn't break. It shattered. They didn't love me. They didn't even care. So I walked. Then why, after I was finally gone, did they come crawling back, begging me to return?

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.

Charlotte had done everything in her power to make Milton love her. For three years, she had showered him with love and was the perfect housewife, even giving up her identity as the lost daughter of the Buchanan family. However, on their third anniversary and her birthday, he slammed a divorce paper on her face. “Your sister has woken up from her coma. You were nothing but a replacement for her. Don’t think that I don’t know of your plans of hurting her three years ago and taking her fiance from her? Hurry and sign the divorce papers before she gets discharged.” Milton said, coldly. Charlotte, shocked and hurt by Milton's accusations, tried to explain herself, but he was not willing to listen. At that moment, she realized that all her efforts had been for nothing. She had been nothing but a murderer and a replacement in Milton's eyes. In a bold decision, She embraced her identity as the only daughter of the Buchanan family. Her days of being a submissive housewife were over. As the truth about her past and the events that led to her foster sister's coma began to unravel, Milton Henderson found himself captivated by this new Charlotte—the one who stood before him with her head held high, declaring, You Shouldn't Have Doubted Me, Mr. Henderson. Hurry up and leave before my brothers return.”

Valeria ran from an arranged marriage and solved the problem as quickly as possible; she married someone else. No photos, no meeting, no romance. Just signatures and a promise to finally meet face-to-face. New residence, new name, and a new job. Except her “new job” turns out to be working as the executive assistant to Ivan Crest. Young, devastatingly handsome CEO, newly married, and entirely too pleased about it. He hires her on the spot, clears his schedule for a mysterious date with his wife, and won’t stop smiling at his phone. What he doesn’t know? Valeria is also counting down the hours to meet her husband for the first time. And what neither of them realizes? They’re texting each other. When Ivan offers her a ride home at the end of the day, she agrees, unaware that he’s heading to meet his wife… on her street. One car, two newlyweds, zero clues. And when the message comes in 

Romance

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