Dubious Consent Mga Nobela at Kwento

At twenty-eight, I held the dubious honor of being the last unmarried socialite on New York's Upper East Side. Everyone around me was growing increasingly anxious about my single status. In my previous life, my mother arranged a matchmaking cocktail party, where I was told to choose a husband from ten handpicked elite bachelors. I bribed the event planner to place Mark West's profile at the very top—and as I had hoped, I chose him. After we married, Mark treated me with what seemed like tender affection. He even bought me an oceanfront villa in the Hamptons, making me believe I had finally found true love. But that illusion shattered the day I was nine months pregnant, just hours away from giving birth. Mark drove a scalpel straight into my abdomen—then, right in front of me, hurled our newborn onto the floor. "If you hadn't forced me into this marriage with your family's power, Sofia wouldn't have been heartbroken enough to go drinking and get drugged and assaulted. This… this is what you owe her!" He tossed the scalpel aside, then calmly let his private doctor pin down my blood-soaked body. I fought through excruciating pain for six agonizing hours, until I finally bled to death. Afterward, Mark dumped my corpse into the Hudson River. But for Sofia, he hosted a grand funeral—funded with my money, under my name—and paraded himself to the world as a grieving, devoted widower. Given a second chance at life, I refused to step foot in that cursed matchmaking event. Instead, I went straight to my mother with a demand: marry me to Robert Black—the most ruthless, cold-blooded titan of Wall Street, whose scarred face was feared by all. In the end, stripped of my financial backing, Mark's hedge fund collapsed. He became a disgraced fraudster, spat on by everyone on Wall Street.

The morning was cold and I was currency. My father handed me to Dimitri Volkov, Bratva, like I was a contract clause. I said no at the altar. Loud enough for everyone to hear. The priest kept going. Dimitri didn’t even blink. That was fact one: I was married without consent, in Chicago, to a man who accepted silence as agreement. I left him later. Not in rage. In clarity, after I saw another girl get caught in his world with no choice, just like me. Then I went to war. Law school had taught me precision, so I used it. Civil suits. Asset forfeiture. Anonymous tips to the right agencies. I took apart everything legitimate he’d built, piece by piece, until he bled territories and pride. He showed up bruised once, signed over forty percent of his clean empire to my name, brought therapy receipts. That was fact two: I dismantled the man who caged me, on paper, without firing a shot. I still have the necklace. The one he left in my lap that first night. I wore it through the worst, through the year I rebuilt alone, through every hearing. Last month I was pregnant in a courtroom, arguing a case I won. He was in the gallery. The diamonds sat above my collar. No one asked. I never explained. That was fact three: I took something from that night and made it mine. It doesn’t belong to him anymore. It doesn’t belong to what he did. It belongs to me.

“And what you tried today,” I winced in pain as he held my nape from behind before turning me around. I peered up at him in fear while he stared down at me with his intimidating eyes. His eyes were thundering. Leaning down further, he made my pulse rise. Being so close to him— a man, no less, I could see the clear spec of blackness inside his dark eyes. They were so raw and so dark and so piercing. “I would suggest you not try it again,” he added, his bottomless brooding eyes burned into mine, “because no matter how hard you are going to try, you are never going to get out of here without my permission. Away from my sight,” he vowed in a menacing tone that had no expression at all. “Don't get your hopes high.” Tears split down my eyes while he studied my face. “You like escaping. Don't you?” He explained to me in a condescending tone. “Let's see how you are going to try now with my eyes on you— all the time." “You can try all you want, but you can never break my spirits!” I looked at him, directly in his eyes without blinking. His eyes were still focussed on my face as he slowly stepped around me. “Do you mean it?” His voice was strangely soft, “Maybe I cannot. But.. ” Adding to his intimidating aura. Shaur. “No.. ” I whispered. “I can break him.” His gaze met mine in an instant. “You seem to have forgotten your own mental capacity of understanding certain situations. Let me refresh it for you.” His eyes seemed to burn holes at me. “I'd rather not get blood on your dress.” WARNING: This book contains strong language, dubious situations, deception issues, manipulations, abduction and dark romance.

"W-wife?" “its okay to see me and treat me like trash,I’ve lived with that knowledge for years. Even if you hate my presence so much, why do you want to marry me off to some guy I didn’t know existed until this moment?’’ Camila couldn't fathom marrying at such a young age. "I can't believe you're going to make me marry someone like her," Leonardo muttered to his father, his voice dripping with contempt. "She's nothing more than a child. Just look at her, she looks like she’ll break any moment from now. And for God’s sake she looks naive" With Leonardo storming out in anger, the atmosphere grew tense. "Why do you and Mom hate me so much?" Camila cried out, her tears flowing freely. "You've locked me away in the back house for years, and now you're forcing me into marriage without my consent!" .................>>>>> Camilla's sole desire has always been to experience love and receive fair treatment from her family. However, her world takes a drastic turn when her family arranges a marriage with the seemingly uninterested and arrogantly indifferent Leonardo. Will they defy the odds and make their marriage work, or will they ultimately conclude that the endeavor isn't worth the struggle? Embark on a journey with Camilla and Leonardo . p.s one of this book's trope is slow burn romance

“You’re not here to serve drinks tonight,” the man said calmly. “You’re here because I bought you.” Aruna never chose the night world. She was forced into it by debt, desperation, and a failed surgery that took her mother’s life instead of saving it. Alone and drowning in unpaid bills, she became trapped in an elite nightclub owned by a ruthless boss who now holds her life on a leash. In a place where bodies are traded and innocence is a myth, Aruna hides a dangerous secret. She is still a virgin. When Dante Ravelino, the most feared Mafia King in the city’s underworld, steps into the bar searching for a pure woman to satisfy a private demand, fate makes its cruel move. The boss sells Aruna without her consent, sealing her destiny in one illegal deal. But Dante is not the monster she expected. Cold. Controlled. Deadly. And disturbingly drawn to her quiet defiance. What begins as a transaction turns into an obsession neither of them can escape. Aruna soon learns that her mother’s death was no accident, her debt was never random, and her body was never the real target. She is part of a much darker game. Surrounded by bloodshed, betrayals, and mafia wars, Aruna must survive a world ruled by power and violence while fighting feelings that could destroy them both. Loving a Mafia King means surrendering to danger… or becoming danger itself. Because in Dante Ravelino’s world, once you are bought— you are never truly free.

ARIA VOSS was eighteen years old the night ZAYDEN COLE — Alpha of the Storm Pack, Lord of the Northern Territories — looked her in the eye and told her she was not his mate. He was lying. Or rather, he believed a lie someone else had handed him. His Beta, REEVE, had fed Zayden a carefully constructed falsehood on the night of Aria's coming-of-age ceremony — the night their mate bond should have been formally recognized. Reeve had his own reasons, his own ambitions, and a very clear understanding that a true mate bond between Zayden and the last heir of the Voss bloodline would make Zayden untouchable in ways that would close every door Reeve had been quietly opening for himself. The rejection shattered Aria. She disappeared from the Northern Territories entirely, found shelter in a rival pack, and spent three years doing two things simultaneously: rebuilding herself from the inside out, and very quietly, very patiently, learning everything there was to know about what she actually was. Because the Voss bloodline is not ordinary. The last heirs of the Voss line carry a rare and ancient power — the ability to either anchor or destroy an unraveling Alpha mate bond. When a true bond is severed without consent, it does not simply disconnect. It turns. It begins consuming the Alpha's wolf from the inside, slowly and invisibly, accelerating with each passing moon cycle. The only thing that can stop it — or weaponize it further — is the living heir of the bloodline the bond was broken with. Aria is that heir. She didn't fully understand what that meant until she was twenty. By twenty-one, she had a plan.

I'm diagnosed with a rare, incurable disease. A wonder drug that is being auctioned off is my last chance at survival. However, upon winning the bid for the said drug, my parents hand it to my older cousin, Annie Harper, who is suffering from infertility instead. This time, I will not make a fuss. I will even purchase a variety of supplements for Annie. My fiance tells me that Annie deserves to be married off splendidly. He wants to give his wedding gifts, which were originally meant for me, to her instead. I consent willingly. On top of that, I transfer both the house and the car he purchased for me to Annie. My parents have relief and delight written on their faces. "You've finally grown up and understood that Annie needs this medication more than you do because she's getting married." My dad says, "Once I've attended the medical symposium for rare diseases and completed the dissection of a patient's cadaver, I will be able to develop a cure for you." Nonetheless, seven days later, I have become the cadaver meant to be cut open by my father. My primary physician calls my father out in public at the symposium, pointing him out as an unethical doctor who gave my life-saving medication to Annie. My parents and boyfriend are criticized by the audience for being murderers. Yet, they firmly believe that this is how I'm getting back at them. They intend to reveal my memories to the public so that everyone learns that I deserved to die.

On the day of my prenatal checkup, I found out my husband Don had booked me a termination surgery instead of a postpartum care package. I thought he had placed the wrong order and was about to tease him, but Vincenzo spoke flatly. "I didn't book it wrong. I need to come clean with you about something." "I've been keeping another woman. She's a good girl. She doesn't want a title or to take your place as Donna." "But she got pregnant recently. I've already made her suffer enough. I can't let her child suffer too. I have to give the child the Moretti family name." I froze on the exam table, my voice shaking uncontrollably. "Then why did you abort my child?" He wiped the ultrasound gel off my belly and smiled. "I just want you to adopt Giuliana's child. I'm having yours terminated because I'm afraid you'll play favorites and treat her kid differently." He handed me the consent form, calm and composed. "I promise you will always be Donna. No one will ever take your place." I gave him a long, hard look, then was wheeled into the operating room. "Never mind." "Vincenzo Moretti, you're going to regret this every single day for the rest of your life." He didn't know it, but I was the only woman in the world who could ever give him a child.

SUMMARY: Haunted by her aunt’s final words, Lyra disguises herself as a maid in Veyron's territory—the ruthless pack leader responsible for the destruction of her village. Survival is her only goal… until Veyron claims her as his fated mate. To Lyra, he is nothing but a monster wrapped in power and bloodshed. Loving him is unthinkable. Escaping him feels impossible. As an ancient prophecy begins to close in around her, Lyra discovers that her fate is far more dangerous than she ever imagined—and that the bond tying her to Veyron may be the key to either her awakening or her ruin. Tormented by his past and an approaching darkness, Veyron never expected his fated mate to be living in his home—or to reject him. When he loses control, he proves her right to fear him. Even with the fate of the world at stake, he can’t risk letting her out of his sight… and despite everything, he still wants her. TRIGGER WARNING: Morally gray werewolves, forced intimacy, and romance that lives firmly in the “this is probably a red flag” zone. Consent may be compromised. Proceed with caution—and maybe a glass of wine. CHAPTER PREVIEW: Lyra swallowed hard, her throat dry, but the words escaped her lips before she could stop them. “I’m a reject,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “The man who was supposed to be my mate chose my sister instead.” His palms slammed the wall beside her head as his roar blew the hair out of her face. Lyra flinched, recoiling. His growl deepened, reverberating through the small space. “Whoever rejected you is irrelevant,” he snarled, his voice dripping with finality. “You. Belong. To me.”

On the eve of the National Robotics Championship, I smashed my carefully designed bot to pieces and announced my withdrawal. Everyone said I was a fraud who was quitting out of fear of being exposed. Online, the netizens mocked me relentlessly. Only one person, Adrian Cross, the so-called genius of the century, spoke up in my defense, his voice dripping with false sincerity, "I believe in River Lowell’s skills. Only he deserves to be my opponent. No matter what setbacks he’s facing, I hope he comes back to the arena and proves himself." In my previous life, the robot I built was identical to his. No matter how I tried to prove he had copied me, Adrian stood before the cameras, wearing his benevolent mask, and said, "It’s fine. This robot can go to River. I can always build something even better." His fans swarmed me, tearing me apart online, and no one believed in my talent. I swallowed the humiliation and vowed to rebuild my robot from scratch. However, when I was assembling it, the Power Core in my kit exploded, shattering my skull. That same night, I was rushed into the ICU. Netizens clapped and cheered, saying I got exactly what I deserved. That night, my girlfriend, Lila Hart, signed the hospital’s DNR consent form without hesitation. Until the day I died, I never understood how Adrian had gotten my robot’s data or why Lila had joined forces with him. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day of the competition.