Romans & histoires Forced Diaper Wearing

The air in the Parisian haute couture salon smelled like money and fear. I’d waited six months for my wedding dress. Now, it was draped over the shoulders of Sofia Ross—the trending influencer, and my mafia fiancé Vincent Cassio’s god-sister. The salon manager was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between me and the man lounging on the velvet sofa. Vincent Cassio stood up. He adjusted a fold of the diamond-encrusted train on Sofia with a casual flick of his wrist. “Her premiere next week needs a statement piece. She’s borrowing it. Pick something off the rack and stop making a scene.” His tone was flat, final. Under the crystal chandeliers, Sofia admired herself in the full-length mirror, a triumphant smile on her lips. I looked at my reflection in the same mirror, wearing jeans and a soaked trench coat. I looked like a lost tourist. Suddenly, the entire past year of planning felt like a sick joke. I didn’t yell. I just felt cold. Numb. I slipped the five-carat engagement ring off my finger. It hit the glass coffee table with a sharp, final click. “You’re right, Vincent. I don’t need this wedding dress. This wedding… I don’t need it either.”

My superior loved tricking me into wearing tight-fitting pencil skirts to serve wine to sleazy clients while sticking close to them. Then, she would hint that I was single and a valid target while she excitedly waited for the clients to make a move on me. It was all in the name of checking the integrity of the clients and whether they were worthy business partners or not. The moment a client fell for it, she would rush over with righteous anger and throw wine in their faces. Then, she would lecture me with a voice heavy with anguish. “Do you lack money so much that you’d throw your dignity away just for better results?” She would trample all over my dignity to set up her image as a refined, noble woman. This time, she even prepared a gown with a super low neckline and pushed me to serve a client with a rich and powerful background. She threatened me by saying that if I did not go, she would deduct my bonus for three whole months of full attendance. But when I saw the familiar, cold man sitting in the seat of honor, it was my turn to laugh. If my brother saw me serving wine in this kind of dress, I did not doubt that by tomorrow, the company would be under my name.

I overslept by six hours on my wedding day. By the time I got there, my fiancée, Yvonne Burke, had already gone through the entire ceremony with her ex, Tony Cooke. I stood there, drenched in sweat. Yvonne just smiled and came clean. "I was the one who drugged you. Tony wanted a wedding ceremony. It's not a big deal, so I gave him one." Like she was afraid I'd make a scene, she added, "Be good. Next week, I'll get the marriage certification with you. Besides, throwing a fit now won't change anything. Look—even if he takes off the suit, it still won't fit you." My eyes landed on the groom. The suit he was wearing was the one I'd spent nearly six months picking out. Everyone held their breath, waiting for me to lose it. Instead, I felt a wave of relief. She should've told me sooner. I'd already been having second thoughts. My ex once said that if I ever dared get married, she'd show up in a wedding dress and steal me away. Looks like everything worked out perfectly. We both got what we wanted.

In my fifth year of marriage to the Don of a powerful mafia family, I find out that the protection charm he gave me causes me headaches whenever I bring it with me. As a surgeon, this raised my alarm. I retrieved the small sachets I had found inside the amulet and brought them to the toxicology lab at Kosley Hospital.. The doctor inspects the sachet and tells me that it contains a type of slow-acting poison that doesn't just cause harm to the victim's body but also renders them infertile after a while. I cry and exclaim, "But that's impossible! My husband gave this to me! His name is Vincenzo Cursley. He's also the person who owns this hospital!" The doctor looks at me in confusion. "Miss, please stop the nonsense. I know Mr. Cursley and his wife. They're very close and intimate with each other. Also, Mrs. Cursley just gave birth to a baby boy not too long ago. They're both now in the VIP ward, looking at their baby." Then, the doctor shows me a photo on his phone. Vincenzo was wearing his usual black suit with the Cursley family emblem embroidered on it. He was holding a baby in his arms, and as for the woman standing next to him… I know her. Her name is Claudia Henderson. And Vincenzo has always referred to her as his adoptive sister.

!!Mature content 18+!! "Your wife wouldn't like this would she Mr. Dalton?" I teased trailing kisses up his neck his hands gripping my ass. "Exactly why we're doing it sweetheart" When nineteen-year-old Anna dances for a stranger in the shadows of a VIP room, she never expects him to grip her waist like he owns her or to show up the next day wearing a suit, a wedding ring, and her father’s name on his payroll. Reid Dalton is the sin she’s not supposed to want: her dad’s boss, her new employer… and the man who makes her come undone with just a look. He buys her body with a contract, takes her breath with every touch, and ruins her with every whispered command. Their affair burns hot, reckless, and forbidden, until it explodes. Two years pass. Anna’s stronger now. Colder. Over him. Or so she thinks… until he steps back into her life with that same voice, those same eyes, and a need just as dangerous as before. She knows his hands. He knows her mouth. But this time, she’s not his to control and he’ll have to break more than rules to win her back.

I grew up with the Vipera brothers. They have always considered me their younger sister and spoiled me silly. But after that car accident, my relationship with them changes completely. The accident leaves me with severe burns on my body, and I'm in constant agony. On top of that, my face is disfigured too. The moment I'm wheeled out of the ICU, I call the Vipera brothers to let them know that I'm safe. However, the only response I get from them is an impatient dismissal. "Sofia, Bianca hurt her fingers during the accident. We're taking care of her now. Don't bother us by throwing a tantrum." Soon, Bianca Rossi uploads a selfie of herself with the Vipera brothers in a luxurious hospital room. She's wearing three wolf fang bracelets on her wrist. I'd given those to the Vipera brothers as a Christmas gift last year. To get the fangs from the particular species of wolves they liked, I trekked through the jungle alone with a gun and battled feral wolves the entire night. I completely let go of any remaining feelings toward the famiglia that raised me and decide to leave them for good. When the Vipera brothers see me again at a grand banquet held by the Ferro famiglia, they are overwhelmed with regret.

The dead don't lie. At Nocturne Prep, everyone else does. Where Alpha heirs and supernatural elites sharpen their claws before ruling the world, accidents don't happen. So when Luna heiress Seraphina Vale plunges to her death, no one dares question it. Not at this school. Rae Vale spent her life hidden as an Alpha's omega bastard daughter. Now she's dragged from obscurity to replace her dead half-sister. Wearing Seraphina's crest, sleeping in her bed, drowning in vicious whispers. She's a fraud with a target on her back. To Professor Cassian Rhys, she is the reincarnation of his first love and his second-chance mate. To Luca Ashborne, the untamed Alpha prince with cruel games and an iron will, she’s a threat. To Kieran Duskmoor, the elusive bloodborn who wears apathy like armor, she’s pure fascination. These boys rule the academy. They want to unravel her or bury her. But Rae isn't here to play nice. Not when Seraphina's death was murder. Someone wants to finish what they started when Rae starts to get too close to the truth, and Rae refuses to be next. At Nocturne Prep, loyalty is rare, power is everything, and love might be the deadliest weapon of all.

The first thing the fake heiress did when she saw me was imitate me. I loved fishtail dresses. Hence, she immediately bought all the fishtail dresses in the city. I loved roses. Thus, she made the entire rose garden hers. I thought she was only jealous that my family had brought me home. Unexpectedly, my elder brother mistook her for me when he saw her from the back when she was wearing a fishtail dress. He gave me forty-nine lashes as punishment that night. She was carrying roses in her arms when my father saw her cheek and mistook her for me. Then, my father immediately drove me out of the house. Before I could investigate the matter, I died of acute renal failure. After my death, I saw her marry my fiance with my family’s blessing. She made a remark on the night of her wedding. “System, I’ve got to thank you for letting me change people’s memories. As long as others mistake me for her, I can casually change their memories.” Enlightenment gripped me, but it was too late. It did not occur to me that I would return to the moment when she had just purchased the fishtail dresses.

Even though this is my eighth time proposing to Beverly Galvan, she still coldly turns me down again. She says that she isn't ready yet and that she needs more time. Since that's the case, I tell myself I will wait as long as it takes. That's when I see it—her and my brother's marriage certificate, posted for everyone to see on her social media. When I question her about it, she merely says in a calm voice, "Timothy's unwell. He can't get too upset, so you'd better not start anything!" They are wearing wedding rings in that photo, and there is a barely visible bump on her belly. In that moment, the storm within me dissipates. Hitting the like button on the post, I type out a comment. "I wish you both a lifetime of joy. May the two of you grow old together!" A year later, a desperate-looking Beverly shows up in front of me, begging that we get back together. Unfortunately for her, her best friend, who was clearly pregnant, steps in with a smile and pushes her aside. "Give it a rest, will you? My husband already has a wife. We can have kids of our own. There's no need for him to be someone's fallback guy."

Before my wedding to Sophie Bennett, the impoverished student I've been sponsoring for ten years posts a photo on social media. "Successfully moved into the new apartment. Soph prepared such a big, soft bed for me!" In the photo, Zachary Wells lies sprawled on the wedding bed I bought for Sophie and my new home, taking a smug selfie with his hand waving at the camera. He's even wearing my wedding ring on his ring finger. Zachary also comments on his own post, "Just thinking about how I'm the first man to lie on this bed fills me with overwhelming happiness!" I reply with a question mark under his comment. The next second, Sophie's call comes through. "I'm just letting Zach experience the warmth of home. Why are you being so passive-aggressive?" In the background, I hear Zachary softly trying to calm her down. "Soph, he's not worth getting angry over." Hearing that, Sophie laughs and banters with him, then abruptly hangs up on me. The two of us have been together for ten years, from ages 18 to 28, and we've finally made it to our wedding day. But now, I no longer intend to go through with it.