Don't Cry For Me

After fleeing the country, Julianne Averee Lustre is living the luxurious Parisian life along with her son. She run the beauty industry like nobody's business. Though she's a bit cautious. She doesn't want him to find her. Unfortunately for her, Hunter Grayson Huntington had found her. Trying to flee again, but he already caught up to her.

When I opened my eyes again, I was pinned against the floor-to-ceiling window of the skyscraper by my stepbrother, Rocco. The man I had been infatuated with for a decade. He panted, his hot lips and tongue trailing along my collarbone as he murmured, "Don't go." In my past life, on the night I received my acceptance letter from London Business School, Rocco got blind drunk. Late that night, I gave in to his pleas for me to stay. I willingly gave myself to him. After a debauched night, his cherished fiancée, Clara, caught me walking out of his room the next morning, my clothes in disarray. She ran out in tears, her parting words ringing in the air, "I'll let you have each other." A month after she disappeared, the family search party found her engagement ring at the edge of a cliff. At the bottom of the cliff lay mangled remains, battered by the waves until they were unrecognizable. Rocco clutched that ring and didn't sleep all night. On the surface, he acted as if nothing had happened, even arranging a trip for me to Sicily, telling me to go and relax. The night I landed, I was kidnapped by assassins from a rival family. I screamed for him to pay the ransom, only to hear him give the order himself over the phone: "Don't make her death a quick one. The Costello princess? She's nothing but a damn liability. Torture her. Break every bone in her body. " "This is what she owes Clara." You like playing games, Rocco. But in this life, I refuse to play along.

The day before my wedding, I went to our cathedral early to get familiar with the place. Instead, I found my fiancé and my stepsister, Isabella fucking on the altar. Our altar. I caught them. He didn't even apologize and just threw me out into the storm. I collapsed in the pouring rain. That’s when he found me. Alistair, the Vampire Prince. He moved like a god through the storm. He pulled me from the mud, and gave me a palace. He told the world I was his soulmate. The one he’d spent centuries searching for. His one and only. For five years, his devotion made me the envy of the supernatural world. I thought I was the one exception in his eternal life. Until I found his secret room. My fingers brushed against an ancient scroll. The script was written in blood. The first line was her name: Isabella. Beneath it, in Alistair's own hand: “Absolute priority. Above all else.” Underneath was a healer's log I’d never seen before. A vampire's healing log. The date was from the night I found out I was pregnant. The night I was attacked by werewolves. They brought me back to the castle, covered in blood. The healers never came for me. I woke up alone. The baby was gone. Our child. His blood, my blood—gone. And my clothes were soaked in what was left of it. I cleaned every trace of it. When he came home, I broke down in his arms. I never told him. I couldn’t bear for him to feel the pain I felt. Now I understood. That same night, Isabella was also being attacked by werewolves. And Alistair’s order to his council was: “Send every healer. Isabella is the priority.” My heart stopped. Despair was a poison in my veins. “If I was never the one... then you can keep your eternity. I want no part of it.”

When I'm seven years old, my dad turns me in to the Court Judgment of the Born Wicked because of my tendency to vomit. If I'm found guilty, my blood ties with my dad will be forcibly severed. Then, I'll be sent to prison. Everyone claims that Dad is just making a fuss over nothing. "Your daughter is still so young, so it's natural for her to fall ill. As a father, you should be more considerate toward her." But when the evidence is shown, everyone clamps up immediately. There was once when Dad drank so much to the point he suffered from gastric bleeding. The business contract that he managed to convince his client to sign was all soiled because I vomited on him as soon as he got home. Thanks to me, the contract was voided. Dad got fired on the spot. During Bryce Fuller, my older brother's birthday, I vomited onto his birthday cake in front of his classmates. Because of that, Bryce was isolated by all of his classmates. He became so depressed that he tried to slit his wrist in an attempt to take his own life. I'll keep vomiting everywhere, be it at the dining table or on my bed. Dad and Bryce have to clean me up more than 30 times every day. They suffer greatly because of me. What angers everyone the most is that after I'm done vomiting, I'll laugh at everyone in a provocative manner. The judge gives his verdict instantly, claiming that I'm wicked by nature. Bryce's eyes redden immediately. As he cries, he tells me that he can't bear to see me leaving him. I never shed any tears, nor do I throw a tantrum. Instead, I accept the judge's verdict calmly, but with a prerequisite condition that the judge finishes watching my memories. The judge is shocked, to say the least. "We'll have to crack your skull open in order to extract your memories. You'll be in a world of pain. Are you sure about that?" I nod in determination. But Bryce, on the other hand, looks alarmed. "I won't agree to that!"

"I'm a stripper, so what?" "You dare speak to me like that?" Ryan growled. "You ungrateful, good-for-nothing, wretched stripper." "You have no right to judge me. You're only privileged by luck." "Don't get too comfortable. You never know what's coming for you. Watch your back." Did I just stand up to the most ruthless and feared billionaire in town? Unfortunately, he's my husband. And I might be in deeper trouble than I thought. Ryan, a spoiled and ruthless 30-year-old billionaire, can't access his father's empire unless he's married. Desperate, he contracts Iris -a bold 26-year-old stripper-to pose as his wife. Iris, with nothing to lose and everything to gain, agrees. But as her life finally seems to come together, shadows from the past threaten to tear it apart. Ryan's hidden identity and a dark family secret push their lives into turmoil, with his manipulative mother determined to keep the truth buried. Will Iris be the key to unlocking Ryan's empire, or will their fake marriage lead to something far more real-like love? And as tensions rise, will the empire fall into unexpected hands?

Jeanica gadis berumur 27 tahun yang tak kunjung menikah. Ia memiliki seorang pacar yang sangat dia sayangi, namun tidak mau menikahinya. Suatu hari, dia dipaksa pindah orang tuanya ke sebuah apartemen dan tinggal bersama seorang laki-laki bernama Arion, Arion itu adalah anak teman baik orang tuanya. Seiring berjalannya waktu, Jeanica tahu kalau pacarnya selingkuh dengan sahabatnya. Saat itulah, dia mulai membuka hatinya pada Arion.

"Do you feel it coming alive?" he whispered. His hand holding mine on his bulge. "If anyone sees us—" I stuttered. We weren’t alone in the house. "If you agree to be my good little stepsister—they’ll treat you with respect too." His dark eyes held a wicked amusement that sent a shiver down my spine. "I know you had a crush on me." "I—I didn’t know you were my stepbrother," I tried to explain, but he silenced me with a finger to my lips. That touch! That gentle press of dominance. It was dangerous. It was temptation itself. "Then no one has to know our dirty little secret." His voice was a trap, laced with seduction. "Be my stepsister by day… and my whore by night." I had thought I was inching toward freedom. That escape was just within reach. But the noose had been tightening all along. And this time, it wasn’t fate or circumstance pulling it tight. It was the hands of my own stepbrothers. .. Lavender wanted a normal life—one where she was respected for who she was, not judged for being born from rape. But everything changed when she helped a wounded stranger– and unknowingly walked into the world of the mafia. She thought she could escape the ruthless mafia boss she saved—until she found herself in his mansion, introduced as his stepsister. When her mother made her meet her new family, Lavender’s world shattered. How could she tell her mother that her soon-to-be stepbrothers were mafia bosses, who saw her as nothing more than a pawn? Lavender is left with two choices: fight back or submit to her stepbrothers' control. But can she escape the grip of the mafia? But how can one ever escape the mafia?

STORY IS CURRENTLY ON HOLD TO ENSURE BEST QUALITY OF CONTENT. “Forgive me Goddess for I have sinned.” “What have you done child?” “I’ve developed an insatiable need.” “What is that need?” “A need for pleasure and lust.” ____________________ Life as a nun always seemed to be the righteous path for Amelia Roseo, unaware, fate had other plans for her. Everything was supposed to change the day she turns 18, that she is yet to meet her true self. Thrown into a world of fleeing and chaos Amelia must adapt and overcome what life had to offer her. Can Amelia identify who her real well-wishers and enemies are before it’s too late? Will she be able to fight her demons to survive and live the battle she was thrown into? Read now to find out.

At the engagement party, the champagne tower is only half-built when Marcus Harrison answers a phone call. He glances at me and says, "I have to go. Lily collapsed at the airport." I say, "If you leave, we're done." He leaves anyway, in front of 200 guests. He carries Lily Bardot in his arms, wearing the coat I gave him, as he drives away in my car. The next day, he sends me an email that reads, "Lily will be moving into my apartment. She needs me, and I hope you can understand. Once Lily gets better, we'll get married. Please trust me." I stare at the screen and suddenly laugh. So what he wants isn't someone who loves him. It's someone who needs him. And I'm too independent, so I don't make the cut. That evening, I scroll through my contacts and find a number I've never given a second glance to. It belongs to someone who's been waiting for me for 23 years. I dial it. "Tomorrow night, 7:00 pm. Meet me at the restaurant by the sea."

I'm reincarnated a week before the college entrance exam. Despite being the soon-to-be top scorer, I stab my eye with a syringe. In my past life, Marianne Quentin, my boyfriend Lance Russell's childhood friend, reported me for cheating off her during the final mock exam. The teacher compared our papers and found that my essay was identical to hers. He harshly criticized me and warned me not to repeat my mistake. However, Marianne reported me for copying her answers again during the math exam. Once again, my answers were found to be identical to hers. The teacher scolded me for being incorrigible and sent me home to reflect on my actions. I couldn't understand what had happened. Clearly, I'd never cheated, but my answers were nearly identical to Marianne's, whether in writing and language or in math. As the SAT exam loomed over me, I could only suppress my doubts as I stepped into the exam hall. I finished the writing paper and thought I was safe. However, Marianne stepped out and accused me of cheating again. I tried to defend myself, yet the answers on my paper were identical to hers. In the end, I was disqualified, kicked out of the exam hall, and banned from taking any exams in the next two years—just because I "cheated". I succumbed to despair and leaped from the rooftop. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to one week before the SAT.