Death Note Cover Book

This is the sequel to Billionaire, Let's Divorce! and if you want to read on, head on over to my book Billionaire, Let's Divorce! and the subsequent chapters will be updated there. Thank you for your support! My heart rammed in my chest as each picture looked clearer than the previous one. I could swear my vision almost went blurry for a split second staring down at the screen. I zoomed in on the man's face, refusing to believe that the man who looked delirious as he mouthed the woman's boobs was my man. There were over a hundred different angles of him having sex with with this woman, and Aiden's face was AS CLEAR AS DAY! Then I threw my head back and laughed shakily. Definitely not. It could never be true. The last thing Aiden will do is cheat. Aiden, a cheater? Nah. He would rather say it to my face that he didn't want me anymore. Which wasn't even possible because we are both crazily in love with each other. I turned off my phone and looked ahead. Just a few more feet and I would be on his lawn. Since I am here, why don't I go find out myself then?

In the midst of a bustling metropolis, Sumire, a diligent and determined orphan with an insatiable thirst for knowledge, is engrossed in her studies while seated on a park bench under the radiant rays of the summer sun. It is here that she met a five-year-old boy, who unbeknownst to her, will change the course of her destiny. Mort, her fated mate, is an enigmatic vampire whose heart is captured at the very first glimpse of Sumire. Little does she realize that a world of supernatural beings surrounds her, as Mort's obssesion and desire for her sets into motion a series of events that will forever alter her life's trajectory. Their initial meeting serves as the threshold to an unknown realm, one inhabited by lurking monsters whose predatory instincts unveil a perilous threat. On a fateful night, beneath the crimson shroud of intimacy, that Mort awakens Sumire's dormant memories and primal thirst for blood. This awakening occurs whilst their enemies lurk menacingly outside their bedroom door, launching an unsuspecting assault on the bounty placed upon her head. How will Sumire navigate this newfound reality, where the tales of mere mortals pale in comparison? Will she be able to unravel the enigma of her own existence before it engulfs her?

My son is dead. He dies in a cramped toilet cubicle after having his skull smashed in. My husband, the school principal, arrives on the scene. The first thing he does is carry his true love's son, the one who killed my son, into an ambulance. They hurriedly leave. Before his death, my son tells me, "Don't cry, Mom. I'm not sad that Dad doesn't believe me. It's enough that you do…" I call Joshua Tucker during my son's funeral. He roars angrily, "Kenny had to get two stitches on his arm because of your son! If you keep pestering me like this, I'll beat him up when I get home!" My son? I look at the gaping hole in my son's head, the one that won't ever bleed anymore. I shut my eyes. Yes, he's my son. My son is dead, Joshua. From now on, there's nothing between us.

All because he believed I pushed Elena down the stairs out of jealousy. Six months ago, a rival family drugged Alexander. Elena saved him and got pregnant. Her family disowned her for it. "Ivy, why can't you just let her be?" Alexander choked me, disappointment and rage in his eyes. "She saved my life! I promised to send her away. Why be so vicious to an unborn child? If anything happens to them, I'll bury you with them." I didn't argue. I just planned an explosion. But when I vanished, the high-and-mighty Don went mad.

I died five years ago. Now my husband, the Don of our Mafia family, wants me to take the fall for his sister again—this time for accidentally killing a British noble's heir during an arms deal. He's holding a fake confession letter with my forged signature, storming into my old apartment in the rust district, only to find it empty. Frustrated, he grabs the corner store owner downstairs, demanding to know where I am. The owner pauses, wiping his hands on his apron, calmly tells him: "Serafine? She died five years ago." "Heard it was retaliation from a rival family during the gang war. They ambushed her in an alley... shot her over a dozen times. She died immediately." My husband, Lucien, refuses to believe it. Convinced the owner is on my payroll, hiding me to help me escape his reach. He scoffs, his eyes filled with scorn: "Oh, so what? Because I called her out for messing up that last job, now she's throwing a tantrum?" "You tell her, if she doesn't come back and take the fall in three days, I'll revoke her grandmother's 'special family protection'! Let the old woman rot!" With that, he storms out, his rage still simmering. The owner watches him leave and sighs, shaking his head. "There's no grandmother left to protect... That woman passed away not long after Serafine did... couldn't survive the winter without our family's medical supplies and protection..."

On my birthday, Connor Simpson's first love jumped off a building due to depression. She died on the spot. Connor blamed everything on me. I never celebrated my birthday again after she died. After the murderer electrocuted me for more than ten hours, they forced me to call Connor. "Connor, it's my 25th birthday today. Can you come over and spend time with me?" However, Connor did not notice anything unusual. His voice was laced with venomous iciness. "Clarisse Winter, Audrey wouldn't have died if it weren't for you. How dare you ask me to celebrate your birthday? If only you were the one who died." I heard him coaxing a woman on the other end just before he hung up on me. That low and gentle tone was what I loved to hear the most in the past. That night, the murderer cut my body into countless pieces, packed them in bags, and threw them in front of the police station. Connor was summoned back overnight. He spent two days and two nights piecing together the body parts, but he did not realize that the dead person was the wife that he hated the most.

She was being chased, scared... trembling as she ran unknowingly into a strange man.. She has always been hated and treated unfairly by everyone.. She was something that disgust everyone, until she realized it could be the end of her.... He is dominant and he is greatly feared. Just his presence could make you pee on your pants, and a cold glance flickered at you, puts you down to your knee praying for the ground to open up. Daisie couldn't be sure of considering herself lucky or not for being saved by the man with the most intimidating presence she has ever felt. And it turned out he was her mate. Grey is the Alpha of Moonpeak pack. He is known as a killer of rogues and according to his past, killing is now like a profession to him. He needed his mate to free him from the burden in his life. Daisie found out there was more mystery to this than the ones perceived. Now that Grey has found Daisie do you think they would be happy? What if threats arises and come between them? Note: In this story, we have a special werewolf rank called 'Sigma'. The Sigma are the physically weak and about 10% of the population.

Parenthood is hard. It's even harder when you're a single mother with a smart eight year old in your hand. Zoey Martinez has been doing well providing for both herself and her child. Things changed one day when she got a complaint from one of her son's teachers about him being disruptive. It has been eight years since that dreadful night. Almost a decade since they last saw each other. Eight years since Xavier Danvers rejected his own flesh and blood. What will happen when the universe brings them back together? Has their love survived after all these years?

Varun, an 18-year-old introvert steps into college to fulfill his dreams with the hope of finding himself and making new memories. But his whole life turns upside down when he meets her, she who makes him a completely different person, she who brings out the best in him, she who treats him like he deserves to be. But does she love him?

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.