Novel & Cerita Double Trouble She-ra

On Valentine's Day, I paid in full for a sports car and gave it to my wife as a gift. But when my wife arrived at the private dining restaurant, she brought her parents—and her childhood sweetheart—along with her. The moment my mother-in-law saw it, she slammed her hand on the table, furious. "Tyler, do you have so much money that it's burning a hole in your pocket? Is all this really necessary just for a meal? "Megan pinches every penny at home, and here you are throwing money around outside—just to show off?" Embarrassed, I tried to explain that this was simply a token of my love for Megan. My father-in-law, however, kept a stern face. "No matter how expensive the car is, it's still going to get stuck in traffic during rush hour! It's not even as useful as the electric scooter Brandon gave her. If you ask me, you didn't put any real thought into this. "Oh, right. I heard the salesperson who sold you the car was introduced by Brandon. How exactly are you planning to repay that favor? No matter how busy you are with work, you can't just push everything onto Brandon to handle for you." I could hear the hidden meaning behind his words. So that was what this was really about. They were still holding a grudge because a week ago, when my father-in-law had twisted his back, I hadn't gone to the hospital to visit him. But at the time, I had been busy cleaning up the mess Brandon Hayes had caused for the company. I'd even kept him out of prison. Yet, instead of gratitude, they were turning the blame on me. After a long silence, my wife finally looked at me. "Tyler, transfer ten percent of the company's shares to Brandon as repayment." "And if I don't?" My father-in-law barked angrily, "Then I'll have Megan divorce you!" I laughed. Then I calmly pulled a divorce agreement from my pocket and placed it on the table. "Go ahead," I said. "Sign it."

I've been in a three-year relationship with Rosalie Lowe so far. Alas, she's been nothing but courteous toward me due to the fact that she hates physical contact. But on my birthday, I witness the noble and cold-looking girlfriend of mine kissing and hugging another man passionately. Only then do I realize that Rosalie just hates me all this time. At that moment, I decide to set her free and let her stay with the man she truly loves. But Rosalie appears at my wedding and begs me to give her another chance. I just shake my head coldly. "I find women who have gotten tainted by other men filthy."

Charlie Wayne’s life is perfect. Or it was. As a VP who commands boardrooms and a playboy who elegantly ends every date at his door by 3 AM, Charlie’s world is built on control. But lately, his system has a glitch. A streak of bizarre, comically bad luck—flat tires at dawn, mysterious fire alarms, untimely food poisoning—keeps derailing his plans. His flawless exit strategy is in shambles. Carly Dorrington’s life is a lie. But a necessary one. After a blowout fight with her father over their family companies’ merger, Carly needs a place to stay. Where better than with her childhood best friend, Charlie? It’s just temporary. Just two best friends sharing a space. It has nothing to do with the two decades she’s spent loving him from the sidelines, or the quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, proximity will make the world’s most oblivious man finally see her. Now, under his roof, the "coincidences" multiply. Charlie’s chaotic love life grinds to a halt just as Carly’s presence becomes a permanent, comforting fixture. His sacred rules don’t seem to apply to her. His peaceful solitude feels warmer with her in it. As the lines of their friendship blur, Charlie is left to wonder: Is Carly the calm in the center of his storm… or is she the one who’s been stirring it up all along? Note: This is a slow-burn, dual-POV story about best friends, blurred lines, and the long game. If you find yourself wondering"where is this going?" in the early chapters... keep reading. Everything becomes clear in Chapter 4. The foundation is being laid for a reason. Thank you for trusting the process.

I was not a competent Luna. Despite being marked for years, I never managed to bear an heir for Raymond Miller. According to pack tradition, a Luna who could not continue the Alpha bloodline was expected to step down voluntarily, or at least permit other she-wolves to approach the Alpha. But I stubbornly refused. On his deathbed, he held my hand and let out a low, teasing laugh. "Your possessiveness is simply too fierce, Chloe. If there is a next life, I certainly won't choose you as my mate again." I thought he was merely joking, so I deliberately snapped back, "Fine by me. Then I won't bond with you either." Yet, when I opened my eyes again, I had actually returned to the exact day he was choosing a mate for our political alliance. Inside the magnificently decorated hall, eligible she-wolves from all the allied packs held their breath, desperately hoping to be chosen. The Pack Elder smiled warmly at Raymond. "Alpha heir, please take this moonstone necklace that belongs to the future Luna and place it around the neck of the she-wolf you have chosen." Raymond walked directly toward me. I couldn't help but curl my lips into a small smile, thinking that he was playing coy as usual. Even in another life, he would still choose me. But in the next split second, he brushed right past my shoulder. A sharp gasp echoed from behind me. He placed the necklace around the neck of another she-wolf.

My wife's lover accuses my daughter of dirtying his suit and calls her an ill-mannered brat. That very night, right in front of me, my wife chops off my daughter's hands as an apology to him. Consumed with rage, I grab that man's hair and slam his head against the wall until he's bleeding. Everyone thinks my wife, Celine Lynch, will have me arrested. Instead, she uses our daughter's life to force me into getting a divorce and leaving with nothing. "You useless trash, you can't even raise your own child right. Get out. Henry Judd and I had better not see you again," she says. After that, I take my daughter's ashes and leave for a faraway place. I vanish from their world and build up everything from scratch. Three years later, after establishing my own company, I meet Henry again at an industry summit. He stands there, wearing an expensive suit. With a wine glass in hand, he looks down at me and says, "Well, if it isn't Justin Yarrow, the poor loser who got kicked out? What, have you come here to freeload?" I laugh coldly. Then I grab him and slam him onto the table edge. My voice is icy as I say, "Looks like you forgot what it felt like to have your head split open. No matter. I'll remind you once more."

It's my third year living with ALS, and my 11th day since losing the ability to speak completely. My wife, Renee Sutton, bursts into my hospital room with a lawyer and a notary in tow, gripping a so-called expert report that concludes all of my symptoms can be faked. She throws it onto my bed. "Miles, you're really a hell of an actor," she says. "You had me fooled for three years. Today, you're finally going to tell the truth." I look at her and open my mouth, but no sound comes out. She shoves a divorce agreement in front of me. "Sign it. Admit you faked your illness to swindle marital assets. You're not walking away with a single cent." I look down at the pen, then at my right hand lying motionless on the sheet. Her eyes hold nothing but a cold sneer. "Still faking? Fine. Keep faking. "Back then, you told me you didn't love me anymore, and I believed you. You said you wanted to marry that older woman, and I believed that too. "Now you've circled back and landed flat on your back, needing someone to take care of you. Did you really think I'd go soft on you again?" A nurse rushes in from the hallway and forces a writing board into my stiff left hand. "Ms. Sutton, he had a tracheotomy just yesterday! This board is the only way he can speak!" Renee stares at the board. Her expression slowly shifts as she lowers her head to look. Scrawled across it, in two shaky words, is my answer. I pour the last of my strength into every stroke. "I'm sorry."

My uncle, Jackson Yates, was a born pervert. While studying abroad, he was arrested for harassing female classmates and making lewd comments toward a female teacher. He was expelled and sent back home. After returning to the country, under the protection of my billionaire grandfather, he lived like an emperor, keeping hundreds of lovers in a villa. All of them vied for his attention. One day, he set his sights on my gentle, well-mannered wife—the rumored piano prodigy, Janelle Sanders. “My dear nephew, all because you grabbed your grandpa’s hand during your first birthday party game, the entire family chose you as the future heir. But as long as I don’t agree, you’ll never succeed.” He constantly harassed her, both verbally and physically. Janelle never tolerated it. She reported him to the police several times, resulting in him getting detained. She even scolded him sternly, “Cyril and I grew up together. Uncle Jackson, please remember your place!” Out of respect for his seniority, Janelle usually just reprimanded him coldly and walked away. Two years later, Jackson seemed to change. He took the initiative to manage a subsidiary and handled everything with impressive efficiency. Grandfather was pleased and handed the entire branch over to him. Just when I thought everything had returned to normal… At our son’s one-month celebration banquet, I saw Janelle in the kitchen. She was dressed provocatively as she desperately pressed herself against Jackson. Jackson lifted his head from her chest and gave me a smug smile.

In my previous life, my sister, Clarissa Smith, and I were adopted at the same time. She chose the Newmans, a prestigious family of scientists, leaving me with an impoverished divorcee. But later on, the Newmans kicked her out, and her reputation was completely ruined. Meanwhile, I'd married rich and had tens of millions of dollars from the government's relocation compensation package. Clarissa couldn't accept how differently our lives turned out, so she stabbed me to death. When my eyes open once more, I find myself alive again. I've gone back in time to the day Clarissa and I were adopted. To my surprise, I can hear her thoughts. [This time, I'm going to be the one who gets rich overnight!] As it turns out, she has been reborn as well. Well, this time around, she can be the one who gets to endure the torment instead.

Always unwanted, never desired. All my life, that’s what I experienced. An illegitimate daughter to a struggling cruel businessman, living under the shadow of the golden child Mira. The perfect one, always seeking adventure and freedom. So much so that she ran away from her responsibility: the arranged marriage with Tristan Blake. The deal that will save the business. I had to step up. Not just because I had to do it, but because I’m in love with Tristan. Only for him to call me a gold-digger and drop me as soon as I bring him the news of my pregnancy with twins. Now I have to leave and file for divorce. What none of them know is that I will return, with my genius babies and my title as an heiress….

It was the day of our marriage. We were supposed to meet up at the City Hall, but my fiancee stood me up. I waited for her the whole day, and the only answer I got was a picture from her assistant. My girlfriend sat astride on his lap, and her arms were wrapped around his neck while they were locked in a deep kiss. "Sorry, Mr. Terraton. Sophie insisted on comforting me. You don't mind, do you?" I demanded answers from my girlfriend, but that only made her impatient. "He donated his blood to me. Yeah, I was with him, but so what? Man up, will you?" That killed any love I had for her, and I called my soon-to-be ex-girlfriend's sister. "Hey, Sylvie. Yeah, about your proposal. So will you marry me?"