Dragged Or Drug

After being attacked by a rogue wolf and poisoned by wolfsbane, I didn't want my Alpha to sense my humiliation or pain. So, I chose to sever our bond—temporarily, at least. A week later, I dragged my still-ailing body back, only to discover that my Alpha, Liam Morgan, was entangled in my bed with my younger sister—Lily Manning, the little princess of the Moruna Pack. He hurried to reassure me. "Tania, this was just a mistake. My Luna will only ever be you." I met Lily's provocative gaze. I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene. I didn't argue. Liam let out a breath of relief. "Good. You're calm and dignified. That's how the mistress of a pack should behave." He was wrong. I wasn't calm, and I wasn't being dignified. From this moment on, I simply erased him—completely—from my world.

On the day that Yasmin Starr gets divorced, a divorce agreement becomes the number one trending topic."The divorce is due to the man's inability to fulfill his basic duties as a husband!"That night, Yasmin is dragged into a car. Blake Ford chomps down on her lip, looking fierce. "You can test me out tonight to see whether I'm able to fulfill my duties, Ms. Starr."After the divorce, Yasmin becomes an internationally renowned designer. Countless handsome men surround her.As the line of men waiting for her hand grows longer, Blake can't sit still anymore. He finds opportunities to show up before her, begging for her love domineeringly yet tenderly. "Yasmin, come home with me, okay?""Belated love isn't worth anything, Mr. Ford.""Yes, I'm the worthless one and a lapdog to boot. I was wrong, Yaz. Come home, please …"

Ten years ago, Elena, my best friend and my foster brother Alexander's fiancée, was tortured to death, every bone in her body crushed. I was the only witness, yet I chose to cover for the sadistic murderer. From that day on, I became the Family's greatest traitor. I accepted a ten-year prison sentence and bit off half my tongue just to keep that secret buried. Now, Alexander has returned as the most ruthless Don in Sicily. He dragged me out of my cell and strapped me into the memory extraction chair—a machine known to turn traitors into vegetables. As high-voltage currents tore through my brain, Alexander stared at me with eyes full of hatred and roared, "I will cut open your brain to find the bastard you’re protecting, and then I’ll send you both to hell!" But when the true killer's face finally appeared on the big screen, Alexander went mad.

Three days before my wedding, my younger sister staged a scene—one where I supposedly abandoned her in the mountains. She claimed I locked her in a cabin, left her to be nearly assaulted, and that she barely escaped with her life. Furious, my fiancé dragged me up the mountain and locked me in that same cabin. He said, "Wendy, a woman as vicious as you won't learn her lesson without punishment. I already told you I'd marry you. Why go after Chloe? Since you're so desperate to climb your way up, you can stay here until the wedding day." I begged him, over and over, but my scorched throat could only force out hoarse, grating sounds. Three days later, Mickey O'Brien stood at the altar in his suit, waiting for me. What he got instead was my remains.

Just for brushing against the hem of Eva Lawson, the heiress’s custom couture gown, Lucy Quinn's mother had her limbs broken, then thrown into the sea to die. The day Lucy dragged the arrogant heiress to court she thought that justice might finally be served. Eva was declared not guilty. Why? Because the defense attorney representing her was none other than Wyatt Grant, founder of the most untouchable law firm in River City, and Lucy Quinn’s husband. When the trial ended, the elegant and aloof man stepped down from the defense table and placed an apology letter in front of Lucy. "Lulu, sign it. You don’t want to be sued for defamation and end up in prison, do you?" His tone was calm and coaxing, but behind the lenses of his gold-rimmed glasses, his gaze was cold as ice. Lucy, tears stubbornly clinging to her eyes, looked up at him and said with a trembling voice, "Why, Wyatt, Why?"

My husband, Martin, was the head of a powerful mafia don. When his widowed sister-in-law, Tricia, got into a car accident, I was forced to give her a blood transfusion. I told them through tears that I was newly pregnant and too weak to donate, but they accused me of faking the medical report. “You were out running just last week. Now you’re claiming you’re pregnant when you’re asked to donate some blood? You just don’t want to help Tricia!” In the end, they drew my blood by force. The strain caused me to miscarry, and while I bled out, my husband stayed by Tricia’s side. After that, I didn’t beg him to return. I dragged my broken body away, left the divorce papers behind, and left him for good. However, when the truth finally came to light, Martin lost his mind with regret.

My coworkers and I are forcibly dragged into a bizarre game with the initial title displayed as "War of the Plants". Everyone crowds around to choose camps or safe houses with abundant water resources. I am the only one who picks a plastic apartment in the desert with no water or electricity. My female supervisor mocks me in front of everyone, saying I must be out of my mind. No one is willing to team up with me, and they even bet I won't last three days. When choosing abilities, everyone rushes for practical powers like spatial storage or metal control. I, however, choose reverse photosynthesis that allows me to gain energy from air humidity. Everyone immediately mutes me in the game. Clearly, no one wants to hear my desperate cries for help later. But when the system revokes team permissions and administrator functions, everyone is stunned. The game's name is reset to "Magnet Apocalypse".

John Handful’s first client is a member of the local Polish community wanted by the police for the disappearance of his pregnant wife. A new miracle cancer drug is stolen from a pharmaceutical complex located on a shingle spit, just off the Suffolk coast. A wealthy local financier is blackmailed, and a ripple of malice spreads across the village of Oxmarket. Each household of a cul-de-sac have a secret that could point to them being the murderer of a man found shot dead in his bedroom.A perplexing case unfolds with the revelation of secret lovers, flowers from the garden and a death that is not as it appears.John Handful finds himself enmeshed in a violent, multi-layered plot at a luxury hotel on a remote island. A man kills himself despite receiving the good news that his lover’s husband has agreed to a divorce.A woman is witnessed shooting herself by her husband even though she had already been dead several hours.A man has been found shot through the head in a locked room with suicide well and truly ruled out. How did he die?Severed limbs in a concrete block, leads, John Handful to believe that a cold calculated killer with a thirst for revenge is on the loose. Ten cases, one connection. What is it?

"You're still so beautiful, Aviana," he whispers, sending cold shivers down my spine. My heart is beating so fast. I try to calm myself so he doesn't see how frightened I am because it will only please him. "You thought he could save you? There's no escaping me." ... Aviana, a woman on the edge, is relentlessly pursued by a dangerous drug lord, his obsession with her stretching back to her teenage years. In a desperate bid to escape, she flees her homeland, seeking solace in a new city. It's here that she encounters the enigmatic and intimidating Nikolas Wulfric. Driven by her dire need for money, she reluctantly agrees to become his surrogate. As Aviana and Nikolas's relationship deepens, she begins to unravel the layers of his complex persona, discovering deep secrets and a hidden identity. With each revelation, the danger they both face escalates, leaving Aviana to question if she's unwittingly stepped into a world even more treacherous than the one she left behind. As danger closes around them, Aviana must decide whether to flee again or fight for her life and her baby.

The mother of Mr. Burr, the hospital director, was critically ill and needed emergency surgery. My wife, wanting to help her beloved crush, Cedric Grey, take the spotlight, deliberately kept the surgery time from me. By the time I finally arrived—late, Mr. Burr stopped me from entering the operating room and scolded me harshly for being unprofessional and unethical. Once I realized what my wife was doing, I handed the lead surgeon position over to her beloved crush. “Well, since you're so eager to shine,” I said coldly, “you’d better not screw it up.” The nurses tried to talk me out of it. They said I was being impulsive, that this was a rare chance to prove myself. However, none of them knew that I was the only doctor in the entire country capable of performing this rare and complex heart valve surgery. Even if Cedric managed to buy time with some miracle drug and made it look like the patient was improving, without my diagnosis and surgical skills, the operation was doomed to fail. And when that happens, he’d be held responsible. As for my wife, her blind favoritism would come back to haunt her.