Chiffon Cake Jakarta

I stood in the shadows, the scent of pine and frost heavy in the air, watching my mate, Ethan, smile—truly smile—for the first time in years. But not at me. At her. My cousin, Isla. His first love. She sat beside him, warm and glowing, with our pups, Lucas and Mia, curled up against her like she was their real mother. They were laughing, sharing bites of ice-cream cake, the kind Lucas once said made his stomach hurt. I was never meant to be here. I wasn't his choice. He didn't fall in love with me—he was assigned to me. To him, our bond was never about love. It was a political arrangement—an alliance between two packs: his power, my father’s ambition. A tie forged not by hearts, but by bloodlines and borders. He never touched me unless required. He never looked at me like I was his Luna. In that moment, as their laughter echoed under the full moon, I felt the mate bond falter—thin, fading, like breath in winter. And I knew. I had played my part long enough. So I turned away. It was time to severe the bond that was never truly mine. But when he sensed I was really leaving, when the tether between us began to snap, he broke. Dropped to his knees, clutching the pups like lifelines, his voice raw. "Please," he whispered, "don't leave me." Even the pups cried, reaching for me with shaking hands. "Mom, we’re sorry… We didn't mean it. Please don't go."

Since it's already the end of the year, the music app I use produces a report on the songs I've listened to in 2025. The keyword of my report is "resonance". Over the year, I don't spend much time listening to the songs on this app. My girlfriend, Sienna Fletcher, is the one who's been using my account this whole time. There's a row beneath the keyword that's written in a tiny font. "You had listened to this song with someone at 4:00 am on December 1st. It turns out that love can go beyond a night's sleep." My breath gets hitched in my throat. December 1st is my birthday. But that night, I had gone to bed at an early hour. Meanwhile, Sienna had left hurriedly after cutting my birthday cake with me with the excuse that she needed to pull an overnight shift at the company. For some reason, I tap onto the unfamiliar-looking profile that has been interacting frequently with my account with a trembling finger. Their keyword of the year is "favor". My heart skips a beat at the sight. Then, I tap on the details. "Over the year, you've listened to songs with this user 688 times in the middle of the night. Every time you do, it's a secretive conversation meant for your souls." The next thing I know, I receive a message from Sienna. "Babe, I need to work overtime tonight again. You don't have to wait up for me. Just go to bed early." At the same time, a new post is uploaded on the unfamiliar profile. It features a photo of two hands that are intertwined together. "I love working overtime with her the most. I want to listen to songs with her forever."

On our wedding anniversary, I canceled all my meetings and made a reservation at a restaurant. That evening, my wife, the renowned investigative journalist Amaya Shaw, called me. “Efim, I’m sorry! I just received a tip from a source. It’s urgent. “It involves inside information about a well-known company. I have to go verify it immediately!” But the next day, I saw that Javor Furey, the junior she had brought along, had posted a collage on his social media. The central photo showed Amaya wearing a childish birthday hat. Her head was pressed against Javor’s, as they made a wish together in front of a cake covered in candles. This was the caption. [Thanks, my dear Ms. Shaw! Even in the midst of her busy schedule chasing big stories, she remembered to give me this surprise birthday!] [Chasing big stories.] I stared at those three words. Then, I glanced at the limited-edition bag on our dining table. It was the one she had been raving about for half a year. It was the anniversary gift I had prepared for her. I felt absurd. I commented just two words under that post. [How touching.] Her call came in almost the second I hit send. She sounded furious. “Efim, do you have to be so sarcastic? “It’s just an anniversary. How old are you? Why are you still celebrating such childish anniversaries?” From our first year of marriage to the present, her “tip-offs from informants” and “special circumstances” always took precedence over our promises. This time, she could not even be bothered to come up with a plausible excuse. I did not say anything. I hung up and blocked her number. This marriage was over.

"I want you to be our personal stripper," declared Killian, his voice deep and cold, slicing through the air and quickening her heartbeat. The intensity in their gaze made her knees weaken, a sensation hard to ignore. Nervously, she gulped, managing to stammer, "S-Sir..." Atlas, positioned behind her, added, "We'll pay you thrice what you earn in this club, sweetheart." His warm breath teased the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. She instinctively closed her thighs, aware of their eyes lingering on her nearly naked form. The offer was undeniably tempting, almost too good to be true. Killian Knight and Atlas De Luca, both successful bachelors in the city, were her employers in which she worked as their assistant, and the unexpected sight of them in the strip club where she worked as a dancer was nothing short of a shock. What added to the surprise was the outrageous proposal they were making! But, being the sole provider of her family, Claire find it hard to decline their offer. For her, money is everything, especially because of their family condition. Being with a sick mother and a brother battling with leukemia, Claire shouldered everything, and she in desperate to make a living. And so, Claire found herself agreeing. Be their stripper? That’s a piece of cake for her. Or so she thought. Fate takes an unexpected turn for Claire when she finds herself falling for the men she promised not to get attached to. However, avoiding two drop-dead hot bachelors proves to be a challenge, especially when fate seems to favor their presence. Becoming the personal stripper for the affluent and influential Killian Knight and Atlas De Luca, Claire finds herself entangled in a web of emotions she never anticipated...

A very deep loss for the Syailendra family. Never imagined before, the death of her only brother was right on the birthday of her brother. When all eyes were fixed on Michael who was cutting his birthday cake, suddenly a gunshot boomed at the scene of the ongoing event, everyone panicked seeing the Michael who was limply covered in blood.One year waiting for the uncertain results regarding who killed her brother, Miska Aluna Syailendra is determined to find out for himself who killed her brother. Even the police have closed the case of her brother's death without knowing who is behind the case of her brother's death.Looking for evidence of whether her brother had any enemies during this time, Miska looked at her brother's phone call history hoping she would get proof. In the midst of searching for the perpetrator of her brother's shooting, Miska was kidnapped by the hired person who shot her brother. Trying to find help, she finally managed to retrieve one of the cellphones of the person who kidnapped him. Miska tried to contact her family but not a single call was answered, so she calling the police station to save her from the kidnappers. In the middle of the rescue process, Miska felt an unnatural feeling when she saw the figure of the police forcefully fighting the kidnappers. Miska tried to get rid of her feelings for the policeman who saved her who she knew was named Randy Pramono, finally she tried to explain to Randy so that she could help her reveal her brother's death.

On Christmas Day, eight months pregnant, I struggled through the kitchen,cooking for my husband and his secretary. When I finally sat down, hoping to taste a piece of turkey I didn’t even get during Thanksgiving, my husband shoved me aside like I was nothing. He slid the turkey in front of his secretary instead. “Alison,you’re already so fat. Stop eating. Let Daisy have it—she deserves to enjoy your cooking.” Daisy，chewing on the turkey I had painstakingly prepared, had the audacity to mock me under the guise of playing truth or dare with my child. “So, what do you think your mom looks like?” “Mommy looks like a fat pig on a farm!” “Her stretch marks? They’re like disgusting worms crawling all over her. Even Santa would run for his life!” Their laughter erupted like daggers piercing me from all sides. Humiliation and rage burned through me as my dignity was stripped bare. I demanded an apology from that vile woman, but my husband—my husband!—turned his cold, cruel face toward me and said, “Get out of here.” Pregnant, exhausted, and humiliated, I stood there in shock. Then I snapped. I grabbed the Christmas cake and turkey and threw them in the trash. I walked out without looking back. This wretched family doesn’t deserve a second of my effort or a single ounce of my love!

SUBMITTING TO MY STEP BROTHERS "Nicole meet your stepbrothers and .......", I didn't hear the next words when my eyes fall on the two men already seated. I found myself momentarily frozen at what I was seeing. Was i dreaming or I wasn't? What the hell is wrong with my step father’s sons. They are all f**king.... **** "Do you want it?", Before I could reply him, my gaze accidentally moved down then I saw it.....his bulge was huge even though it was flaccid. Was I turning him on? Just like I did to his brother, Alexander. My breath hitched as he stepped closer to me, his chest coming into view, closer to my face, "I think its too late to eat the cake," He rasped as I looked up. His hand extended above me but his forest green eyes held mine, they became darker as if time had stood still. Right now, I needed a saviour. I noticed that Alexander has ocean blue eyes then here is his brother with ...... my goodness! Speechless, I moved my gaze to his Adam's apple, which bobbed as he swallowed. "If the banana is all you wanted. Then have a good night step sis" He moved away, smirking and then he turned around. My eyes landed on his ass. I snapped out of quickly it then shook my head. Holy hell! I was still holding the banana in my hand in disbelief. Was that a dream?

As my murderer's claws tear into my abdomen inch by inch, my father and brother are seated in our family's banquet hall. They're celebrating Carly's 18th birthday and coming-of-age. "You'll always be my little girl." "Happy birthday, Carly." They light 18 pink candles for her. On top of the exquisite red velvet cake is a wolf figurine that they carved for her, and there are well wishes and laughter all around. Meanwhile, I'm curled up in a sewer filled with liquid silver as I bleed to death. My phone has been crushed, and I can't get out. I can only cry for help. A few days later, my father and brother show up together at the autopsy room. My brother stands by the operating table with a scalpel. He slices open the body and sews it back up like it's nothing. My father just covers his nose as he shoots a disgusted glance at my body. He urges my brother to hurry up with the autopsy report. "The victim is a young female wolf presumed to be of pure lineage. Before her death, she was subjected to prolonged captivity and torture. Her throat is nearly severed, her cervical spine is dislocated, and her chest cavity has collapsed. She was also injected with liquid silver before death." Hearing the report, my father looks so calm that it's just like a case study of no consequence. Neither of them can recognize that the body belongs to me—their daughter and sister!

Berawal dari tekad Tarisha Ertianada setelah lulus SMA merantau ke Jakarta untuk mengubah hidupnya. Sampai memutuskan untuk daftar kuliah tanpa sepengetahuan orang tuanya di desa. Karena semasa sekolah ia merasa menjadi beban, jadi inilah saatnya untuk memberikan jatah bulanan kepada keluarganya. Mulai dari membiayai sekolah kedua adiknya hingga menuruti semua permintaan dua adiknya asalkan mampu ia beli. Sampai pada akhirnya, ia mendapat panggilan untuk melakukan daftar ulang di kampus impiannya. Dan hari pertama masuk, disitulah ia bertemu dengan dua sosok laki-laki tampan dari dua kubu yang saling berlawanan yaitu Im Rey Prince dan Denuka Zeonnal Pradikhta. Dua sosok laki-laki tampan yang selalu bersaing untuk mendapatkan posisi pertama di kampus. Pertemuan mereka membuat pusing kehidupan Tarisha. Karena nyaris setiap hari menjadi omongan satu kampus, gara-gara kedekatan tanpa sengajanya dengan dua idola cewek-cewek itu. Antara laki-laki blesteran Korea-Indonesia dan anak tunggal pengusaha batik terbesar di Indonesia, siapakah yang akan menjadi pilihan Tarisha?

I don't believe in fairytale. I don't believe in happy endings too. To me, anything that involves freedom is a myth. Love is a strange word, something I sought for ages but only got slapped back in the end by the strong fume of hatred that surrounded me. The only thing that can end this pain is death, mine or my abuser's. And either way, I was prepared. ~Ellen Oliver ~ *** His hand roamed my body possessively, his gaze penetrating me with lust and hunger, his finger finding its way to my core. His voice, gruffly and nasal, filled my ear with a disturbing hunger. "You are mine. Mine alone. Mine to touch, mine to keep, mine to fuck. All of you, Omega. I own all of your goddamn body. You are my pleasure toy..." *** Rejected by her mate and forsaken by her pack, Ellen Oliver endured massive humiliations and tortures because she was believed to be a cursed wolf, and like an icing on the cake of her misery, she happened to be an Omega too. The hell, she was the weakest Omega. After losing her mother due to a forced labour to produce her, Ellen was hated by even her Beta father whom one would have expected to naturally love her. She felt life couldn't get any worse for her, as her survival depended on how well she pleases and entertained her tormentors. But there was a revival.. a revival she never expected nor believed and it came with a change that had her tormentors on their knees, at her feet. ..