Exo Lives Next Door

It is the night before our wedding when my fiancee, Whitney Sullivan, reunites with her childhood sweetheart, Steven Foster, a mercenary who has been missing for five years. He is brought to our doorstep by his teammates, bloodied and barely clinging to life after being poisoned with a deadly aphrodisiac on a mission. Whitney, usually so aloof and controlled, immediately breaks down. She locks the door, defying my efforts to stop her, and stays with Steven all night long. I choose to stay outside the door, never closing my eyes. I confront her the following morning with a torrent of accusations, only for her to stand in front of Steven protectively and say shamelessly, "I couldn't just stand by and watch Steven die. Isn't it just my virginity? What's the harm in letting loose the night before the wedding?" In that instant, all my affection for her is utterly destroyed.

One of my classmates, Liam, called me one day. His mom was planning to get a divorce, and he wanted me to talk to her.   The first time I saw Liam’s mom, I was captivated by her unique charm as a mature woman. From then on, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.   One day, I decided to invite Liam for a hike. He wasn’t home, but there were faint moans coming from inside the room. I pushed the door open to find Claire lying on a red blanket. Her legs were entwined, and she moved in a way that was impossible to ignore.   Who knew Liam’s mom would be so good at it? Quietly, I moved further into the room. Without a word, she walked over and shut the bedroom door behind me. 

The day I went into labor with the twins, I bribed the family doctor to shoot me up with every heavy-duty suppressant he could get his hands on. Anything to stall the birth. Why? Because in my last life, Vincent—my husband, the Don—claimed to have a low sperm count. To guarantee an heir, he lined up ten mistresses and told the whole house: whoever popped out a son first, her kid would be the next Corleone Don. He promised if I delivered first, he'd ditch the others. Said our baby would inherit the throne. I bought every word. When I found out I was carrying twins, I couldn't stop shaking—I thought I'd won. But after I gave birth, he tossed me and the babies into the freezing wine cellar and locked the place down. "Lucy came from nothing. I just wanted to give her kid a name. You started rumors, pushed her into despair, and now she's dead—her and the baby. You're vile. Not fit to be the Don's wife. Think about what you've done. I'll open the door in three days." Then he had the butler seal it shut. What he didn't know? That night, the cellar caught fire. Me and my babies? Burned alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back—right before labor. This time, I'm not staying. Soon as I deliver and get back on my feet, I'm taking my kids and disappearing for good.

When you pair two strangers who have a lot of hidden sexual tension towards each other, it's only normal that sensual sparks would fly- as well as their clothes when they're eventually getting wild and steamy with each other. ******** Blue's every day motto was "When life throws you lemons, make lemonade. " But she currently had a lot on her plate, and none of it were delicious lemons. What happens in Vegas was supposed to stay in Vegas right? Man, did Blue wish that was the truth. . Her life was rapidly falling apart! First, her fiancé had just been brutally murdered, she had also been rendered completely homeless, she was also on the run for commiting a serious felony and next she's drunk, having a wild and steamy night with a stranger in the backseat of his car. Could Blue find a sense of purpose in all the madness? At the brink of trying to escape from the chaotic mess he life has suddenly become, Blue encounters the presence of the Baron of Aston! One thing leads to another and soon, she was all royally prissy-ed up in a tall castle, married to him as the Baroness of Aston. It was definitely a fresh start to a new, unproblematic life- or so she thought. All good things come to an end. So what happens when her past comes back knocking at her door? And the stranger from that stormy night resurfaces in her life? And this time, he wanted more than just one night with her and he wouldn't take no for an answer. . .

I was nineteen the first time Cole Whitfield broke me. Not with cruelty. With a single word. Why. Not did you — why. Like the answer was already settled and he just wanted the story to make sense. I told him the truth anyway. He said nothing that mattered. So I picked up my bag, walked out of his apartment, and decided that a man who trusted a rumor over two years of me wasn’t worth a correction. I spent the next two years becoming someone I actually liked. New city. Graduate program. A published paper with my name on it. I was done with Cole Whitfield in every way a person can be done. Then I walked into Seminar Room 114 and he was sitting right there, gray eyes already on the door, like some part of him knew. I sat down. I opened my notebook. I did not look up. Here’s the thing about studying how people form beliefs: you understand exactly why he believed it. That doesn’t mean you forgive it. That doesn’t mean two years of silence disappear because he’s learned how to look at you like he’s sorry. He wants a conversation. I want my degree. But the campus is small, the seminar table is round, and the boy who broke my heart at nineteen is doing everything right at twenty-one — and I’m starting to understand that composed isn’t the same thing as healed. I hate that I still know the exact sound of his voice.

Si Maria Marites Majarott ay isang introvert na babae, siya ay NBSB at nahihirapang makihalubilo sa mga tao not until Ernist Hemingway 'the boy next door' comes to the rescue. **** Si Maria Marites Majarott 'Mari' ay nagtatrabaho bilang isang manunulat sa isa sa pinakamalaki at pinakasikat na kumpanya ng paglalathala sa bansa. Sa katunayan, isa siya sa pinakamabentang may-akda sa kasalukuyang henerasyon ngunit itinatago niya ang sarili sa pin name na MMM 'Malibog at Maharot na Manunulat'. Siya ay isang Erotikong manunulat. Gayunpaman, kung gaano kalapad at kalawak ang imahinasyon niya patungkol sa kanyang genre ay napakasalungat nito sa totoong personalidad niya. Isa siyang tao na pinangingibawan ang pagtuon sa kanyang sarili. In short introverted and innocent like bullshit. Kaya nang tumuntong siya ng trenta ay naging desperada ang dalaga't gusto niyang maranasan kung ano ba ang pakiramdam ng madidiligan ang bulaklak niya, subalit paano? Wala naman nagpapakilig sa kanya? N'ung halos susuko na siya't handang tanggapin ang madilim na kapalaran ng bulaklak niya. Saka naman may bagong saltang kapitbahay siya na si Ernist Hemingway na mayroon pinakamagandang ngiti na nasilayan niya sa buong buhay niya. Ito naba ang nakatakdang pumitas sa malapit nang malalantang bulaklak niya?

'If one door closes, there are still a thousand doors open.' For the umpteenth time, the twenty-one-year-old art student Grace Menken is hurt by a man who only takes advantage of her kindness. Being alone, bullied, and always getting played with makes Grace hopeless, so she decides to end her life. With a rope and a broken heart, Grace chooses an abandoned mansion as a witness to her death. However, she had a bad accident in that place. Grace might have died in the accident, but fate plays tricks on her. A knock on the door awakens Grace, who had just fallen from a height of two floors. When she opens the door, a man in royal clothing bumps into her. "My apologies for hitting you, Ms. I’ve been chased by a pack of monster wolves. I have to find a way to get back to the palace. My wedding ceremony will start soon." ** Adro Alymer Groendez is the crown prince of the prosperous kingdom, Groendez a Lend. He will marry his childhood friend, Princess Joselyn. However, Adro accidentally crosses into the modern world on their wedding day through a witch's door. Trapped, Adro meets Grace Menken, a girl who becomes his friend and promises to help him return to the fairy tale land. Would Adro make it back to his world, where his bride-to-be is waiting? Or would Adro be trapped forever in the modern world?

Late one night after getting off work, I was scrolling through my company group chat when a colleague shared a piece of news. The headline was horrifying. "Night-Shift Courier Murdered During Delivery, Police Suspect Robbery." I zoomed in on the crime scene photo that had been partially pixelated, and a chill ran straight down my spine. Lying in a pool of blood, the courier who had been hacked to death was unmistakably me. I had scrolled into news of my own death. Almost at the same time, my delivery app began vibrating violently. "Urgent pickup! Destination: Unit 704 Hawthorne Ridge Apartments, Building 7. Time limit: 15 minutes. Penalty for timeout: Death." As I stared at the notification that read "Pickup failed three times", the searing pain of my brutal death surged through my body. So that was it. I had already died three times. When I forced open the half-closed security door of 704 for the fourth time, a thin delivery envelope lay quietly inside. I tore it open. A photograph slipped out. It was a picture of my dismembered body. The timestamp showed tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. On the back was a single line written in fresh blood: "Next time, remember to pick it up on time." At that moment, the red indicator light on the hallway surveillance camera suddenly went dark. I looked up. From the ventilation opening in the exact same spot, a single eye was staring straight at me. The mole at the corner of that eye was identical to mine.

After deciding to leave Azurea and follow Clara Miller to Northwood City, I was cast out by my parents. "That girl is an orphan–what can she possibly give you? If you choose a life of hardship now, you’ll spend the rest of your life suffering! Once you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back!" I left anyway. For five years, I watched Clara rise step by step, becoming one of Northwood City’s most respected psychologists. Just as she had promised, she gave me a home. As the New Year approached, I planned to take her back to Azurea to reconcile with my parents. However, just before boarding the plane, she abandoned me again–this time for a depressed patient threatening to take his own life. She let go of my hand, her eyes full of pain. "Julian Vance… he’s just like I used to be–alone, with no one to rely on. If I don’t go, he’ll jump. I’m sorry. Just this once. I’ll catch the next flight and meet you there." Then she turned and ran toward the exit without hesitation. I stood there, staring at the two plane tickets in my hand. She had saved everyone who needed redemption. Everyone… except me. Slowly, I tore up her ticket. Then I walked alone toward the security gate and turned off my phone. What Clara did not know was this: Some journeys home, once missed, are gone forever.

On the day of the World Rally Championship finals, I pressed the accelerator to the floor, ready for the final dash. The next moment, the engine exploded in a deafening roar, and thick smoke instantly filled the cockpit. Flames spread toward the fuel tank. I yanked at the door, desperate to jump out, but the handle wouldn’t budge, and the brakes felt welded in place. In that instant of despair, my husband’s voice came through the comms. “Attention, all teams, no need to rescue her. My wife is the Iron Racer! “For today’s live broadcast challenge, let’s see if she can drive this burning car across the finish line!” His co-commentator, recently recruited onto the team, chimed in with excitement. “Thomas, the sponsor just confirmed! As long as Jane holds on to the end, they’ll increase investment. I can get a permanent spot!” I understood instantly then that the husband on the commentary platform I had supported for years was using my life to pave the way for his mistress. Smoke clawed at my throat. However, I forced down the dizziness and begged, “For the sake of all our years together…” Only for him to cut me off with irritation. “Save your energy for driving. You’re skilled. Just hold on a little longer. Mandy’s promotion depends entirely on you.” The cockpit had become an inferno; my skin searing with every second. I gripped the blistering wheel, steering through the smoke for the last time. This time, my finish line was the commentary platform where the two of them were huddled together.