Escape Me Never

On my fifteenth birthday, I begged my mom to teach me how to make a cream cake from scratch. We only had cream at home. No flour. So we went out to buy some. When we came back, we didn't walk into a birthday surprise. We walked in on my father pressing a strange she-wolf down onto the dining table. Cream was smeared all over her bare body. That night ended with my parents signing the Mating Dissolution Agreement. From that day on, cake became my nightmare, a taboo I could never touch. The night I mated with Alpha Kaelen of the Shadow Pack, amidst the pain and pleasure of his marking bite, I whispered in his ear. "Honey, if you ever want to end our mating, just bring me a cake." He frowned, his eyes burning with possessiveness, and kissed the words away. "Don't talk nonsense, Seraphina. You are my fated mate. How could I ever let you go?" Later, on his birthday, his intern secretary Elena ordered a three-tier luxury cake. Kaelen went into a rage, throwing both the cake and the intern out the front door. Back then, I was moved, even telling him not to be so harsh on a low-ranking wolf for my sake. But six months later, Elena had been promoted to Kaelen's personal assistant. On my birthday, she walked into my laboratory, swinging her hips, holding a burnt, homemade cake. I called Kaelen, asking him to remove the provocative item. On the other end of the line,his tone was casual. "Elena put her heart into making that for you. It would be cruel to throw it away. Be a good girl, don't be so sensitive. Have the grace of a Luna." The phone slipped from my hand. It turned out my mother wasn't wrong. Cake really is best served with a side of rejection papers.

All I ever wanted was to get off this damned territory and escape my abusive family. On top of that, I would have done anything to be free from him, but his icy eyes aren’t the only thing that would hold me captive. Being in love with a high-ranked soldier is already tortuous enough, but as soon as I sign the contract he is offering me, I will be officially his possession. And officially screwed. ⚠️ TW: explicit and foul language, steamy and explicit sex scenes, abuse, violence, SA ⚠️

Mi novio, Pablo Pimentel, es el heredero de la familia más poderosa de la capital. Su fortuna supera los cien mil millones de dólares. Para ponerme a prueba, durante siete años de relación, nunca me regaló nada, nunca gastó un solo centavo en mí. Ni siquiera cuando iba a comprar condones: insistía en pagar mitad y mitad. Después, mi madre se enfermó de gravedad. Les pedí dinero a todos los familiares y amigos que pude. Solo me faltaban dos mil dólares para cubrir el costo de la cirugía. Le supliqué, le rogué. Pero Pablo no me prestó ni un dólar. Tuve que pagar yo sola los gastos del funeral de mi madre. Cuando regresé a casa para recoger mis cosas, encontré por casualidad una lista de regalos que le había comprado a Sara García: una villa de lujo, bolsos de marcas exclusivas, joyas valoradas en cientos de millones de dólares… También vi los audios en el grupo con sus amigos: "Pablo, ¿es cierto que Leticia se arrodilló para pedirte dos mil dólares?" Pablo se rió con frialdad, su voz sonó despreocupada, casi divertida. "Sara tenía razón: quien se arrodilla por tan poco dinero no es más que una interesada. Apenas llevamos siete años juntos y ya está desesperada por sacarme dinero." Resultó que siete años de "prueba" no valieron más que un comentario venenoso de su vecinita de al lado. No importa. Desde el momento en que mi madre murió, ya lo había decidido: desaparecer de su vida para siempre.

Everyone in the underworld knew Rosalie Thorne, the "Thorn Principessa" of the North. Wild, rebellious, notorious. Street racing, high-stakes gambling, guns, and drinking, she had mastered them all. The rose-and-thorn tattoo on the nape of her neck drove countless men wild. But what they didn't know was that for Rocco, the new mob boss of the South, a single sentence, "I prefer a more obedient woman," was all it took. At his word, I had the tattoo lasered off and swapped my leathers for long, conservative dresses. I am Rosalie. For five years, I hid my identity and played the porcelain doll Rocco wanted. Until the night he eliminated all his rivals and was crowned the new Don of the South. That was when he let his men bow to another woman, hailing her as their "Donna." I watched Rocco. The same hands that had just executed a traitor were now gently placing a pair of red high heels on the feet of his adoptive sister, Vivian. "Rosalie, she has a temper. She'll make a scene if she doesn't get the title." "You're the good one, the obedient one. Just let her have this." That day, I walked straight out into the rain and never looked back. I was never truly obedient. I just made myself smaller for him. My family had already chosen a husband for me. They had been waiting five years, just for me to say yes.

Dos semanas antes de la boda, Nelson decidió posponerla una vez más. —Ivana inaugura su primera exposición de arte ese día —me dijo—. Estará sola y nerviosa. Tengo que estar ahí para apoyarla. Al final, tú y yo ya estamos juntos, ¿qué más da casarnos un día antes o después? Pero ya era la tercera vez que aplazaba nuestra boda por aquella mujer. La primera, Ivana acababa de operarse y sentía nostalgia de la comida de su tierra, por lo que Nelson no dudó en viajar al extranjero y quedarse con ella durante dos meses. La segunda, Ivana decidió irse al bosque en busca de inspiración para pintar y él, preocupado por su seguridad, fue tras ella. Esta era la tercera. Colgué la llamada y miré a César, mi amigo de toda la vida, quien se encontraba sentado frente a mí, relajado, jugando con su bastón de esmeralda, cuyo golpeteo en el piso de mármol rompía el silencio entre nosotros. —¿Todavía necesitas esposa? —le pregunté, sonriendo con picardía. El día de mi boda, Ivana sonreía radiante, copa en mano, esperando el brindis del hombre a su lado. Pero él, con los ojos rojos, observaba en silencio la transmisión en vivo de la boda del heredero del Grupo Santos, el imperio inmobiliario más grande del país.

Selene Quinn Six years ago, I walked away from Lucien Ashbourne. No goodbyes. No confrontation. Just silence… and two unborn children he never knew about. They said I was lucky to marry into power — even though he was half-dead man. They didn’t see the contract, the coma, or the cold man who treated me like a threat. Even after I saved him. Now I’m back. Different name. Bigger title. And the first face I see on a Manhattan billboard? His. He doesn’t know I’m here. He doesn’t know we’re about to become competitors. And he has no idea what I’ve built while he was busy forgetting me. Lucien Ashbourne She left without a word. Good. She was a mistake forced into my life while I was too broken to stop it. But I never signed those divorce papers. And now… she’s back. New name. Same eyes. Running the company threatening my biggest deal. She’s hiding something. She always was. But this time, I won’t let her vanish. Not until I know why she left. Not until I remember what we did that night. Not until she realizes... she was mine all along.

Nadhirah Aleena yang kini hidup dengan trauma yang terus menghantui hidupnya menyebabkan terus menyesali apa yang telah terjadi, diselimuti ketakutan dan bahkan jauh dengan dirinya sendiri. Ia tidak mau siapapun hadir dalam hidupnya termasuk dari masa lalunya sekalipun. Tapi hal yang tidak di harapkan justru terjadi. Rendi yang merupakan masa lalunya datang kembali membuat Nadhirah berusaha untuk terus menghindar. "Menangislah, aku rindu tangisanmu, aku rindu semuanya tentangmu. Dan aku tidak pernah membencimu dengan keaadan sekarang.” Direngkuhnya tubuh Nadhira kedalam pelukan Rendi. "Aku tidak tahu apa arti kehidupan, aku lupa cara tersenyum, aku lupa bagaimana rasanya mencintai dan dicintai. Ini seperti bukan diriku. Aku mati, ya hatiku telah mati bahkan aku sangat membenci ketika melihat orang tertawa bahagia. Untuk tertawa saja aku sulit melakukannya apalagi untuk bahagia. Aku hidup dengan penuh rasa bersalah, penyesalan, dan tidak ikhlas dengan takdir yang telah digariskan. Apakah aku kejam? hahahaha sepertinya itu bukan pertanyaan tapi pernyataan. Tolong jangan tinggalkan aku.”Pinta Nadhirah dengan lirih diiringi isak tangis yang mengalun begitu menyanyat hati Rendi.

“I’m pregnant too.” Sonia, my husband’s girlfriend said to me with a voice lifts with theatrical innocence. “Chase doesn’t know yet,” she continues casually. “I wanted to wait till the divorce is finalized. That way everyone will know I didn’t need to trap him with a baby… like you did.” There it is. The knife twist. Her eyes glitter with triumph as she walks out. I open my tote bag. The divorce agreement slides out easily. A thick stack of paper demanding my complete surrender of any claim to the Warren empire. In exchange for freedom. The woman who fractured herself trying to build a family out of dust is gone. I slide the signed documents into the top drawer of Chase’s desk. Let him find it. Let him choke on it.

Please,  help me just this once." Jasmine panted with lust filled eyes. "Jazz, you're not thinking straight." Aaron replied even though he was fighting hard not to lose control. "Take a cold shower or something,  it'll help you feel better,  I promise." "No!"Jasmine argued, grabbing a fistful of his shirt in her hand. "It won't help,  trust me I've tried." "Yeah but..." "Aaron please! I need you, can't you see that? Or do you really hate me that much that you can't stand the thought of touching me?" They hated each other alright, that much was certain. But seeing Jasmine trapped in the heat of her own passion had Aaron's body reacting in ways that he could neither explain nor control, and also in ways that had him wondering if it was alright to suspend their feud for just one night. "You know what? Fuck it!" Aaron declared at last, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. "We can go back to hating each other tomorrow, but tonight, I'm going to make love to you like no one ever has."

"Ms. Hall, these are the details of the feigned death service you booked with us. The date of death is set for the wedding, half a month from now. The cause of death will be suicide by drowning, and the deceased is yourself. Please confirm and sign here." Wendy Hall nodded. Without hesitation, she signed her name at the bottom of the document. The bustling street was alive with chatter and movement. As Wendy walked home alone, she glanced up, and there it was—the giant screen on a nearby building, looping a video of Grayson Bryce proposing to her.