Novel & Cerita Deadly Dream

WARNING: Please, before reading this book, note that it contains: violence, abusive scenes, and mature scenes. "I was supposed to kill you, Cassius," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Do you think you can?" he replied, his gaze piercing. He gently took my hand, the warmth of his touch contrasting sharply with the coldness of the IV drip that fed into my arm. "I would shoot a bullet into your head if..." I started, but before I could finish, he sealed my lips with a kiss—soft yet filled with an urgency that took my breath away. **** Zara Singh, an undercover assassin, receives a contract to seduce and eliminate Cassius DiMarco, the most feared Mafia king who is known for his ruthlessness. But what would happen when she finds herself unexpectedly drawn to Cassius? And what would happen when Zara finds out Cassius had a hand in her parent's death? Would she be able to forgive him? #2

I met Oleg in junior school, and we clicked right away. Despite our fathers being rival mafia bosses, we never fell apart. But my feelings for Oleg changed with age. I felt frightened because I was torn between the comforts of friendship and the thrill of something more. My dad was very homophobic, so it was even more difficult to express how I felt. I was faced with wanting to be truthful but endangering our families’ fragile peace So, my feelings stayed hidden, and I was just happy to be with Oleg. Yet I couldn’t help but hope that Oleg would feel the same. Perhaps he was too scared to say anything. That hint of hope was what gave me the courage to take action. And I did but things went terribly wrong. our worlds collided and exploded. It left us with nothing but hatred and resentment between our families. If I could turn back time, I would be content with the friendship we once shared, not the hurt and anger which we now have. We parted ways with hatred in our hearts,a wound that never healed,years later,our path crossed again......

Sixteen-year-old Vera Moonlock has survived the slums of the imperial capital by wit and stealth—but when a drunken soldier targets an innocent child, her dormant power erupts in a flash of psychic fury. Branded the “dream witch,” she’s dragged to the feared Judgment Tower, where the empire confines its most dangerous Alphas. There she meets Lucien Thornehart, the legendary Mad Wolf King, whose mind teeters on the brink of madness. Bound by necessity—and a fragile pact woven in the dream plain—they shatter their chains and ignite a rebellion under the rising Blood Moon. From the Howling Spire to the storm-lashed heights of Skyforge Citadel, Vera and Lucien must master their mismatched gifts: her star-blood dreamcraft and his feral alpha wrath. As they breach iron gates, outwit psionic dampeners, and rally hybrids and humans alike, they discover that the true enemy is not a single tyrant but the systemic fear that binds them all. In a final reckoning on a frozen lake, they redeem a fallen prince, unite former foes in the Constellation Accord, and found Ember Tower Academy—where the next generation will learn to guard freedom with fang and dream. *Dream Sovereign: Chronicles of the Blood Moon* is an epic saga of power, mercy, and the unbreakable bonds forged in shared nightmares.

My childhood sweetheart who promised to marry me the moment I graduated proposed to Camille Willow, my sister, during my graduation ceremony. At that moment, Dennis Malcolm, the most eligible and admired bachelor in Blington City's elite circle, stepped forward and confessed his love for me immediately after my childhood sweetheart's proposal was accepted. For five years after our marriage, Dennis showered me with devotion, treating me with such tenderness that it felt as though I were the center of his world. But everything shattered the day I overheard a conversation between him and his close friend. "Dennis, now that Camille's on top, are you really going to keep pretending with Tracy?" "It doesn't matter. I'll never have Camille. Besides, as long as I'm here, she'll never disrupt Camille's happiness," he answered. The paper notes he held dear, each one carefully preserved, revealed a harsh truth. Each one carried her name, accompanied by heartfelt wishes: "May Camille be released from her burdens. May she find peace within herself." "May Camille achieve all she dreams of, and may her heart love freely." "Camille, we were never meant to be together in this life. I can only hope that in another, we will walk side by side." … Five years of devotion shattered in a single moment of clarity. I crafted a false identity and planned an elaborate drowning to vanish without a trace. From this day forward, in this life and all others, we shall never cross paths again.

Everyone keeps telling me that I've hit the mega jackpot just because I get to marry Anson Granger, the man of every woman's dreams. I'm the only one who knows that I'm just a tool used by Anson just to shut everyone up. To the public, he's a CEO who's devoted to his wife. But in reality, he keeps taking various young starlets home with him every day right in front of me. In fact, Anson falls in love with a strict housekeeper named Winona Judd. After he takes her home, Winona begins setting up house rules for the entire family. Not only does she freeze my bank card and donate my personal belongings, but she also restricts my freedom. Even when my mom is deathly ill, Winona forbids me to leave the estate just so I can go to the hospital. It's then that I break down right in front of her helplessly. "My mom is already dying from her illness! I need to stay by her side! She needs me!" Winona continues wearing a distant yet stern expression. "Mrs. Granger, I've already informed you last week that today is a family day. You're supposed to bond with your family today, so you can't go anywhere at all." Anger and panic overwhelm me in an instant. Left without a choice, I can only ask Anson for help. The smile in his eyes fades away instantly as he tells me coldly, "Kim, I'm the one who personally hired Winnie. You can forget about remaining as my wife if you refuse to listen to her orders." This cold and heartless version of Anson is no longer the same man I've grown up with and spent my entire youth loving. In that case, I might as well relinquish my title as his wife.

Elara gave up everything for love...her trust, her inheritance, her future. But the two people she trusted most, her husband and her best friend, destroyed it all with a betrayal so cruel it left her shattered. Just when she thought she had nothing left, a stranger emerged from the shadows. Only Axel was no stranger at all. He was her Ex-husband's Nemesis. Cold-blooded, ruthless, and dangerously obsessed with her. With one careless signature on a contract, Elara becomes bound to Axel, a man whose name inspires fear, whose touch ignites her, and whose secrets threaten to unravel her very reality. He carries scars that hide darker truths and a hunger for her that blurs the line between protection and possession. Soon, she realizes the betrayal was only the beginning. The truth waiting in the shadows is far more dangerous than she ever imagined. In a world where trust is a weapon, Elara must decide: with Axel by her side, will she surrender to his dark side and become the villain in her own story or will she rise from the ashes and burn her enemies to the ground?

On the fifth year of their marriage, finding the vitamin C her husband bought tasted too bitter, Jeanne Dotson went to the hospital with the bottle. The doctor took one look and frowned. "This isn't vitamin C." "I-I'm sorry, Doctor?" "I could say it a dozen times and it'd still be the same," the doctor replied, pointing at the bottle. "This is Mifepristone. Taking too much of it doesn't just cause infertility—it can do serious harm to your body." Jeanne felt a lump stuck in her throat, and her fingers turned pale from clenching the bottle. "That's impossible. My husband got this for me. His name is Darren Walsh—he's a doctor here too." The doctor looked up at her, his expression turning strange, tinged with something she couldn't quite read. After a pause, he gave a small smile. "Miss, you might want to visit the psych ward instead. We all know Dr. Walsh's wife—she gave birth just two months ago. Don't let your imagination run wild, all right? There's no point."

When I went to pick Diana Grant up, she just tossed the car keys toward me. Dangling from the silver ring was a plush white bear pendant. I paused, knowing that she had never kept a keychain or a decorative charm on her keys. Once I slid into the driver's seat, the entire alignment felt off. The seat had clearly been adjusted. "Did you let someone else drive your car?" I asked, keeping my voice casual. Dazed from the alcohol, she offered a dismissive shrug. "Yeah. I lent it to an employee for a quick business trip." I didn't press further. The next morning, the chime of the doorbell broke the silence of the house. When I pulled the door open, a shy, clean-cut young guy was standing on the porch. He blinked, then forced a sheepish smile and handed over a cup of coffee. "Hi," he stammered. "I'm just here to drop off a fresh coffee for Ms. Grant." But my attention wasn't on the coffee. My gaze dropped to his left hand. Twirling lazily around his index finger was a set of keys, and swinging from the metal loop was the same white bear pendant. I took the coffee cup from his hand and quietly closed the door. In the room, Diana's phone lit up on the table. A new notification flashed across the lock screen. It was a message that read: [Diana, I just met your husband. He looks kind of scary. Coffee was delivered safely anyway. Try to drink less alcohol next time, okay?] I picked up the phone and pulled up the video camera. With the recording running, I held the coffee cup over the kitchen sink and slowly poured the warm liquid down the drain. Then I uploaded the recorded video to Diana's social media, broadcasting it to her entire social circle. The caption read: [Thanks for the concern, but she doesn't drink coffee.]

Because of her first love's piano competition, my fiancee, Ashley Blake, postpones our wedding for the 17th time seven years into our relationship. On the eve of the competition, she chops off my ring finger just because Marc Tyson claims I injured his hand and ruined his ability to compete. The pain of losing my finger leaves me crying in agony, but she simply holds him in her arms and stares me down with indifferent eyes. She says, "Stop pretending, Troy Clinton. You're a grown man. What's all this fuss over losing a finger? Besides, you merely lost one finger. Marc has lost the dream he spent his whole life chasing! This is what you owe him." Her cruel words shatter my heart into tiny pieces. She has forgotten that my fingers are also meant to dance across piano keys. "The wedding next week is postponed," she says dismissively while covering Marc's reddened fingers. She adds, "This has nothing to do with Marc. It's simply because you can't wear a wedding ring with a missing finger anyway." Clutching my bleeding hand, I finally wake up to reality. From this moment onwards, we owe each other nothing.

My husband and I have been married for a decade. When I finally conceive for the first time in ten years, I realize my worst enemies are my family, who all want me dead. I've made a promise to return to the fertility shrine on the mountain and fulfill my vow if things work out, but my mother-in-law deliberately messes up the cable car tickets. In the process of hiking up the mountain for two hours, I lose my baby. In the hospital, I cry to my husband about all the vicious things his mother has done to me, but he kicks me in the stomach. "I had a vasectomy a long time ago. There's no way that bastard inside you is mine!" When he hands me the proof, I'm completely speechless. I break down in tears and run back to my parents' place. Not only do my parents hire a nanny to help take care of me, but they even move out of the house so I can rest in tranquility. When I'm eight months pregnant, I overhear them whispering in the bathroom. "We can never let Gina have the baby. I don't care if it kills her—we're all screwed if the child is born!" "Relax. The doctor already told me that Gina's got leukemia from all the formaldehyde in our new house. Even the baby's deformed!" Shocked, I burst into the bathroom to confront them, but the slippery floor causes me to fall hard. Instantly, blood snakes across the tiles. As I lie there in pain, I look up and see the cold, twisted smiles on my parents' faces before taking my last breath. I cannot fathom why my family wants me dead. I thought they'd been looking forward to his baby for a decade. When I open my eyes again, I return to the very day my mother-in-law insists on taking me to the mountain.