Fine Taeyeon Lyrics Novels & Stories

As the reigning eight-time champion of the transmigration department, I'm deeply traumatized by the idea of having fight with the fake heiress. Unfortunately, not only is there an 18-year-old fake heiress in my family of this world, but she also has eight older siblings who dote on her endlessly. Seriously, the stereotypical real versus fake heiress plot is driving me crazy. I retreat into the depths of my mom's womb immediately, my tiny hands clamping down on the umbilical cord. My refusal to leave my mom's body is absolute. [Those idiotic brothers of mine keep spoiling that 18-year-old extremely childish fake heiress who insists on sitting in a baby trolley all the time! If I were to leave this place, I'd definitely get assassinated by them!] My mom, who can hear my internal thoughts, is forced to suffer due to the complications in her labor for 72 hours straight. Finally, she yields to me by signing the "Zero-Tolerance Treaty on Unequal Treatment". She also assigns 108 bodyguards to me overnight. Satisfied, I finally release my hold on the umbilical cord and make my flashy entrance to this world. Mom taps me on my forehead. "Natalie is extremely pure and innocent. She would never come up with ways to hurt you." On the first day I go home, Natalie Fairchild, the fake heiress, pushes my crib toward the staircase on purpose. "I wanna see if Nev can fly!" A bodyguard instantly reaches out to catch my crib from coursing through the air. Scared out of her wits, Natalie slumps to the floor immediately. There, she starts crying like a baby. My second brother, Elliot Fairchild, pulls her into his arms lovingly. He says reassuringly, "Don't be scared, Nat. The bodyguard must have frightened you because of his actions, right? Now, now, you can stop crying now. Nev is fine, isn't she?" The next thing he knows, he gets tossed into the heavy downpour by another bodyguard.

At the National High School Football All-Star Game, my boyfriend Evan had just been named MVP. Sophia, the cheer captain, immediately posted on Instagram. Caption: "Guess who got a little something from the champion himself~" The photo turned out to be a pair of Evan's worn underwear! Scrawled across them in lipstick were the words: "For my dearest Sophia." She held them up with her long acrylic nails, pouting for the selfie. The internet exploded. "Why does she have his underwear?" "Isn't it obvious? They're totally together." "Sitting here waiting for the official couple photo." Within seconds, a close-up of the two of them cheek-to-cheek surfaced in the comments. Congratulations and teasing flooded the feed. I gripped my phone, a chill spreading through my entire body. Evan had promised to go public about us ages ago but kept putting it off, saying he needed to prove himself first. He'd been stalling ever since. Now here I was, his actual girlfriend, and I didn't even get an invite to his victory party. I took a deep breath and called him. "Explain." On the other end, Evan's voice was lazy, almost amused. "The fans grabbed everything off me. Jersey, pads, all of it. Sophia insisted on keeping something as a souvenir, so I gave her the underwear. No big deal." "The Instagram post is just riding the hype. Don't be so uptight about it." Then Sophia's voice chimed in. "Yeah, honey, Evan and I are like brothers! I've seen everything on him already. It's just a pair of boxers, so don't be so petty." I listened to their increasingly flirtatious banter through the speaker, then slowly pulled off my engagement ring and tossed it aside. "Fine," I said to Evan. "I'll be the bigger person. Why don't you skip the 'girl bro' thing and just make her your girlfriend? I'm tired of watching this act."

My foster sister, Gloria Binder, and I married a pair of werewolf brothers. I married the older brother, the steady one who ran the Dixon household. She married the man who held power over the entire pack. We got pregnant in the same year. In a couple of months, they would be able to take a sample of our babies' cardiogen and use it as medicine to treat their fathers' illness. Two months before my due date, the gates of the outer villa were kicked open. The intruders beat me, fists and boots coming down hard, then forced a bowl of labor-inducing medicine down my throat. I screamed at the maid beside me to run and get my mate. But all I got back was his message. He was furious. "You said you wanted peace and quiet and insisted on staying at the secluded villa to rest. Now you're pulling something this low just to drag me over there? I don't have time to waste on you. Judy needs a few plants moved into her yard. She's delicate and can't do heavy work. I'm helping her." The medicine had already taken effect. I could feel the baby thrashing, as if it were about to tear its way out of me. I would have died from the pain if Gloria hadn't come back from gathering herbs and saved my life. She sent people to find my mate and demand justice for me. Yet, all she got was another message. "You're living just fine in the villa. Who would dare hurt you? I need to help my brother plant a few more shrubs for Judy. I don't have time for your petty drama!" Gloria was pregnant, too. After being beaten and kicked, she lost her baby. We lay in a pool of blood, holding each other. "Gloria," I whispered through tears, "I don't want to repay any debts anymore. I want to sever my bond with Lesley."

“No, please…. please don't hurt Eldric,” she begged him to not hurt her husband which made him grab a fist of her hair and pull her face closer to his. She yelped in pain. “So you really love your husband a lot to beg me for his life?” He glowered down at her. “You did give him that thing which I had always needed from you,” he seethed out. Her heart ached more terribly when she saw that searing pain flashing in his gaze for a split second before his viciousness took over him completely. “Fine, I will spare your dear husband’s life tonight if you would be able to stop me,” he uttered and cupped the back of her neck. She witnessed his rapacious gaze wandering all over her face and body hungrily before it stopped at her lips. “And I guess you already know how to stop me, Mrs Ariella Eldric Kohler….” he smirked wickedly at her mouth before trailing his predacious eyes back at her gaze. Turning completely vulnerable, she closed her glossy eyes and then pressed her lips against his, giving him what he had been demanding from her at the cost of her husband's life. Feeling the delicate warmth of her mouth against his, he plunged himself deeper inside her core once again, making her yelp in pain. “Moan my name, Ella…” he groaned, thrusting inside her harder. Tears rolled down from her eyes. “Aahh….K…Kieran….” her moan made him slam his mouth against her where he twisted her very being to become his salvation from her sin. Why was she letting this fatal man ruin not only her but her wedding vows too, who was surviving his life with the only purpose of destroying her? Read to find out…..

My sister, Fiona Miller, has recently opened a luxury spa for business. As such, I bring Dad along to check it out. Of course, we pick the most expensive treatment package available. But barely a few presses from the male therapist, and Dad feels a sharp pain in his chest and can't seem to breathe properly. All the color drains from his face, and cold sweat starts beading on his forehead. I call the manager over, but he seems annoyed. "Oh, he just has poor blood circulation. He'll be fine after the massage. That's just a normal reaction." I can't believe what I'm hearing. "My father has a heart condition. What are you lot even doing to him?" The manager, Seth Zeller, explodes as if I've insulted him and raises his voice. "That's his own pre-existing condition. How is that our problem? We run a legitimate business here. No refunds once treatment begins. Got it?" I gesture at the credentials displayed on the wall. "I don't see your name anywhere up there. You're not even certified. Is this the kind of operation Fiona's running?" Seth folds his arms across his chest, looking down his nose at us. "I'm the boss here. You and your dad look broke as hell. I can tell you're just trying to get a free massage and walk out without paying." "Let me spell it out for you. This package is 38,000 dollars. Adding in the cost of my emotional distress and lost time, the total is 100,000 dollars. Pay up now, or I'm having you both arrested." A massage that almost kills Dad costs 100,000 dollars? So that's why Fiona was suddenly so eager to open this spa. As it turns out, she and her boyfriend are running a fraud scheme. I reach for my phone to call her, but Seth is already making a video call. "Babe, you need to get here right now. A couple of deadbeats are trying to get a free massage and walk away without paying."

My wife, Andrea Cohen, has been pretending to be blind for three years while clutching onto her cane. On the night the old building of the medical university crumbles due to an earthquake, a crumbling wall completely shatters my spine. I can only scream Andrea's name hysterically in an attempt to call for help. With her eyes closed, Andrea stands by the debris while responding in my direction in a cold voice, "I can't see, so I can't feel you at all. You should crawl out to safety by yourself." But the next moment, her first love, Eugene White, lets out a surprised yell. When he's about to get struck by the falling rocks from the tremors, Andrea's eyes suddenly snap open. She tosses her cane aside and accurately avoids the metal bars and spikes that are strewn all over the ground. Without hesitation, she lunges at Eugene just to protect him from the rocks. The back of my head ends up getting pierced by a fallen slab. After I wake up from a coma, I've gone completely blind. At the same time, my intelligence has deteriorated to one of a five-year-old. Three years later, Andrea, who has become the best surgeon in the industry, looks for me everywhere like a lunatic. Finally, she spots me huddling under a bridge, where I beg for food and money. She sinks down to her knees in the snow, her eyes bloodshot. "To think that you're brutal enough to take out your own eyesight just to avoid me! Is it even worth getting reduced to this state?" I tilt my head quietly as I stare at the void with my hollow gaze. Then, I slowly dig out a blackened coin from my cracked bowl before passing it in Andrea's direction. "Your eyes are working fine, lady. Why are you feeling around on the ground just like me? Are you here to beg for food as well? I've only earned one coin, but I'll give it to you."

Six years of marriage. All passion at night, but never tenderness in the daylight. Amelia Sinclair loved Christopher Zephyr deeply, and she swallowed the bitterness as if it were sweet. Her own daughter wasn't allowed to call him father, yet the son of his first love sat on his lap, learning to say the word "dad". The entire family treated that adopted boy as a precious heir, while her own flesh and blood was treated like a shameful stain. It wasn't until Amelia and her daughter paid with their lives—until Christopher signed the cremation papers with his own hand and then took the boy to attend his first love's welcome banquet—that Amelia finally understood. Love couldn't win love. A heartless man had no heart to give. When Amelia was reborn, she swore she would never again cling to that cold and humiliating marriage. In her past life, she had foolishly given up her studies, content to be a housewife and devote herself to her family. In this one, she submitted the divorce papers without hesitation, took her daughter far from the mire, and rebuilt her career until she stood at the top again. In the first week after Amelia left, Christopher dismissed it as one of her tantrums. By the first month, he brushed it off completely. It didn't matter to him what she did, so it was fine to let her go. Later on, he saw her again, standing tall among the industry's elite! Amelia was focused only on her career, and her daughter was focused only on finding herself a new father. And Christopher finally realized that they really didn't want him anymore. The man lost all reason. The one who had always been cold, proud, untouchable, suddenly threw away his dignity. He blocked the mother and daughter pair in full view of everyone, his voice breaking as he pleaded, "Honey, I'll kneel here if I have to. Please... just love me one more time."

After giving birth to Alpha Wesley Silvermoon's pup, I fell into severe postpartum depression. Whenever the scent he left on me began to fade, I couldn't help but have the urge to hurt myself. It was Wesley who held me tight in his arms, kissing my forehead repeatedly, saying, "Don't be afraid, Maggie. The pup and I will stay with you, always." Every morning, he took me to see a therapist. In the afternoon, he handled the pack's affairs. At night, he fed Brett the pup himself. The dark circles beneath his eyes grew heavier by the day, yet he never once complained. Until one day. Brett was crying for his mother, while I hid in the bathroom, hurting myself. When Wesley saw what happened, he completely lost it. He grabbed me by the throat viciously. "If you don't want a pup, you shouldn't have had one! You gave birth to it, but you can't even take care of it! You don't deserve to be a mother!" He bellowed, "How much longer are you going to torment this family? You want to die so badly? Fine! I'll help you!" The moment he said that, he instantly came back to his senses. He broke his wrist and apologized to me. I didn't say anything, merely staring blankly at the phone that had fallen to the floor. The screen was still lit. 37 missed calls. All from the same name. Rowena Sawthorne. She was someone who had recently returned to the pack. Wesley's first love from his youth. She was healthy, beautiful, confident. She and Wesley were once the celebrity couple that everyone admired. Even Brett, whom I had nearly died giving birth to, would smile when she held him in her arms. Perhaps only she was worthy of being his mate, worthy of being Brett's mother. Maybe, this was for the best. At last, I could die without any worry.

I don't have any ambitions in life. My biggest dream is to become a rich widow. On the day I'm supposed to go on a blind date, my parents place two photos in front of me. The first photo features Frank Larson, the young and handsome heir of the richest family in the elite circle. The second photo shows his youngest uncle, Henry Larson, who's supposedly dying really soon. It's said that he has never married anyone despite being 35 years old. My younger sister, Lily Nufer, chooses Frank as her future partner immediately. "I want to become the wife of the richest heir in the elite circle! A life of glory and luxury awaits me!" Then, she starts mocking me. "Sarah, you should just marry the walking corpse. Once he's dead, his assets are all yours!" I nod in return. "Okay." Walking corpses are fine by me. I don't have to scrub his back during bathtime. Plus, the sooner he dies, the sooner I regain my freedom. But after I get married, I find out that the so-called "corpse" not only possesses a figure that's sexier than a model's, but his stamina also exceeds that of a bull's. On top of that, Henry is also the one who calls the shots in the elite circle. Later on, Frank gets cast out of the Larson family for embezzling the company's funds. As Frank's wife, Lily is forced to live on the streets with him. Unable to take it anymore, Lily kneels by my feet and offers to exchange Frank for Henry due to their age difference. I'm about to nod and agree to the offer when Henry, my extremely influential and powerful husband, stomps onto Frank's hand immediately. "No way!" I say, "I'm okay with having a younger husband. Youth is nice." Henry chuckles coldly at Frank. "Sarah's your aunt! How dare you try to take her away from me! It seems that you must be tired of living!"

Everyone thought Stellar Rivers was a fraud—a fake heiress thrown out by the powerful Harlow family. They believed her real parents were supposedly poor nobodies from the countryside. With nowhere else to go, she clung to Percy Moore, the youngest heir of the illustrious Moore family. Try as they might, no one could drive her away. But when Stellar overheard that Percy planned to marry the Harlow family’s true heiress, her lifelong rival, everything changed. Fine, he could have his perfect match. Stellar wasn’t going to waste another moment on someone who didn’t value her. Instead, she turned her back on him and reclaimed the life that had always been hers. A country bumpkin? Hardly. It turned out Stellar’s real family was wealthier and more powerful than anyone could imagine. With four influential uncles showering her with love and protection, she was ready to take the world by storm. And while she believed in playing fair, she also knew one thing: revenge was best served by her own hand. Meanwhile, Percy’s perfect world began to unravel. Without Stellar, his life was a mess—his business floundered, his fiancée’s reputation crumbled, and his carefully constructed future came crashing down. Desperate and full of regret, he showed up at Stellar’s doorstep, begging her to come back. But Stellar only smirked, casually leaning onto the tall, devastatingly handsome man at her side. “Sorry, Percy. I don’t take back what I’ve already let go.” As if that wasn’t enough, Stellar even dismissed the powerful man standing beside her, leaving him in the dust. “I said it before, and I’ll say it again—I don’t go back to what’s already behind me.” Even Stephen Ward, who broken off their engagement before they ever met, found himself on his knees, pleading, “Honey, I was wrong. Please, give me another chance!”