روايات وقصص ضمن Funniest Zodiac Signs

Zariel Thorne is a witty and fiercely independent young woman secretly running a struggling fake-dating agency while working as executive assistant to billionaire CEO Kaelen Sterling. Buried under family debt and desperate to survive financially, Zariel accidentally sends Kaelen a premium contract marriage proposal meant for another client. Instead of firing her, Kaelen signs the contract. Facing pressure from his conservative board members and needing a stable public image to secure a billion-dollar global merger, Kaelen offers Zariel a deal that could solve all her financial problems: become his temporary fake wife in exchange for financial freedom. What begins as a cold business arrangement slowly transforms into something dangerously emotional. Zariel’s chaotic warmth clashes constantly with Kaelen’s rigid and calculating personality, creating explosive chemistry inside the walls of his luxurious penthouse and corporate empire. As the fake marriage gains public attention, enemies begin attacking from every direction. Kaelen’s manipulative stepbrother Julian wants to destroy him and steal the company, while high-society heiress Elodia Blackwood becomes obsessed with exposing Zariel as a fraud. Media scandals, hidden betrayals, surveillance schemes, and corporate sabotage push the couple into increasingly dangerous situations. Despite strict rules against emotional attachment, Kaelen slowly reveals the broken man beneath his icy exterior, while Zariel realizes she is falling in love with the one man she swore never to trust. Their relationship reaches its breaking point when their contract marriage is publicly exposed during a global corporate summit. With the entire world watching, Kaelen burns the original contract and asks Zariel to marry him for real. Together, they must survive betrayal, rebuild their reputations, and fight for a love that was never supposed to exist.

May Austin is left to care for her sick younger sister, Lily. Struggling to afford Lily’s medical treatment, May signs a surrogacy contract with the powerful Stones family, agreeing to bear a child for Damien Stone, the ruthless and handsome CEO. The procedure is impersonal—they never meet, and Damien only glimpses her in dimly lit rooms. May gives birth to twins, a boy and a girl. The family takes the boy, leaving May to flee with her daughter and sister, disappearing abroad to build a new life. For five years, she raises her daughter Aria while Lily grows healthy and excels academically. Their paths cross unexpectedly at an airport when Aria bumps into Damien. He feels an instant, inexplicable attachment to the girl, unaware she is his daughter. Sparks fly as Damien encounters May professionally when she returns as a director at his company. Attraction, tension, and unresolved pasts begin to surface. Meanwhile, their children play a pivotal role in reconnecting their parents. Damien’s grandfather, Daxton Stone, disapproves due to class differences and manipulates circumstances to challenge May and Damien, while Damien’s parents wholeheartedly support May. Corporate intrigue, sabotage, and a vindictive fiancée create further tension, especially as May’s son, Aiden, suffers domestic abuse and entrusts May to protect him. Alongside a parallel romance between Damien’s boyfriend, David, and May’s best friend, the story weaves love, resilience, and family into a gripping tapestry. As truths emerge and past grievances confront them, Damien and May must navigate threats, heal old wounds, and embrace the family destiny they never imagined. One Pregnancy, Two Babies is a story of love, sacrifice, second chances, and the unbreakable bonds of family, where children are the bridge that reconnects hearts separated by fate.

Claire Blake, 23, works double shifts at a café to cover her mother's medical bills and her brilliant sister Clara's college tuition. Her life is a careful sacrifice - no room for dreams, only survival. Then she accidentally spills coffee on Damian Cole, billionaire CEO and the city's most eligible bachelor. Instead of anger, he's kind. Days later, his assistant calls with an impossible offer: pretend to be his girlfriend for six months. His family won't stop pressuring him to marry, and his manipulative ex-fiancée Caroline refuses to accept they're over. In exchange: $10,000 monthly, her mother's medical expenses covered, and a completion bonus that would transform her family's life. Claire knows it's crazy - she doesn't belong in his world of charity galas and high society. But the money would solve every problem. So she signs the contract and steps into a glittering world where everything feels like pretend. Except it doesn't stay pretend. Damian isn't the cold CEO she expected. He remembers her coffee order, values her opinions, treats her family with genuine warmth. His careful respect comes from protecting his sister from abuse - he's not controlling, he's considerate. As Claire navigates his world, the performance becomes real. When he kisses her, he confesses: "This stopped being fake for me weeks ago." But Caroline launches a media campaign suggesting their relationship is paid - uncomfortably close to the truth. With headlines dissecting Claire's background and questioning whether she "belongs," they must choose transparency over hiding. Can a love that started as a contract become real enough to survive the spotlight?

I sold myself to a masked stranger for one night. My brother is dying. The medical bills are drowning me. So I walked into a private auction wearing black lace and a mask, and I let a stranger buy me. He was cold. Commanding. Twice my age. He called me princess and made me beg for things I had never dared to whisper out loud. For one night, I was not the broke, exhausted twin sitting at a hospital bedside. I was his. Every moan. Every tear. Every orgasm. He gave me the first pleasure of my life and then sent me home with fifty thousand dollars and a bruise on my throat that I could not stop touching. I told myself I would never see him again. Then I walked into my new job. He was standing in the corner office. No mask this time. Just a sharp suit, cold eyes, and a smirk that said he had known exactly who I was all along. Ezra Dane. My brother's former best friend. The man who destroyed my family. He owns the company I just got hired at. He signs my paycheck. He holds the door to his office open every morning and waits for me to walk through it. And last night, he sent me a message. My penthouse. 9 p.m. Wear the collar. I should report him. I should quit. I should run as far from this forty two year old nightmare as humanly possible. But when he looks at me with those dark eyes and says good girl, my legs spread before my brain catches up. He wants to own me. And I am terrified that I want to be owned.

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.

“You! What do you think you're doing?” She squealed, her eyes wide as she scrambled backwards in a panic. He didn't stop and instead, backed her up until she was sandwiched between the wall and himself. His hand grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him before leaning down till his lips was level with the her ear. “What do you think I'm doing?” His voice was a deep baritone that made her tremble. Her face flushed as she felt the signs of her arousal. He stuck out his tongue and lapped at her earlobe making her tremble and whimper. “Of course, I'm trying to get closer to my Luna.” With that, he didn't wait for her to say her usual protest of “I'm not your Luna” before he captured her lips in his, kissing her till her knees turned to jelly. Laila Reeds felt like her life was the happiest it could be and that nothing could go wrong. Her Alpha loved and cherished her. Her pack was flourishing and she was happy. But good things always come to an end. Laila suddenly finds that everything that her world was built on were lies and what she thought was love was only a ploy to get something from her. Shattered and condemned to death, she thought she wouldn't make it. But then he came. With his silver hair and violet eyes, he descended and killed her enemies while saying “Who dares to touch my mate?” Even with this, Laila wasn't moved as her heart was already dead. “Dead? Her heart is dead? What a joke. Watch how this Luna doting Lycan nurses her heart back to health. Soon, her heart would be beating again and it will be beating only for me.” he proclaimed with a confident smile.

"Sign the contract. Produce an heir. And never question what happens in the dark." Cora Belmont was not supposed to be here. Her sister was the one meant to marry Roman Falcone — East Coast crime boss, untouchable, allegedly monstrous. Her family didn't give Cora a choice. They gave her a sedative. She woke up in silk sheets, with a contract on the pillow and a pen placed precisely against her lips. Sign it, or your family loses more than you. So Cora signs. She signs away her body, her autonomy, and any illusion she had about what marriage means in a world of men who treat women like ledger entries. What she doesn't sign away is her mind. And her mind begins keeping records. Because her husband is impossible. Some nights he is Roman Falcone — cold, brutal, exacting, who takes what he wants and leaves without a word. Other nights, someone comes to her bedroom who touches her like she is the only precious thing in a world of violence. Who whispers her name like a prayer. Who smells of sandalwood instead of gunsmoke. Cora tells herself she's losing her mind. She sets a camera. She watches the footage. And then a thunderstorm lights up the sky outside her window — and she sees both of them. Roman in the doorway, gun in hand, reeking of fresh blood. And Rocco Falcone — The Shadow, the ghost who was never supposed to exist — still in her bed. They are twins. They are equally dangerous. They are both completely obsessed with her. And when Cora tries to run, she discovers that one Falcone is impossible to escape. Two Falcones simply don't accept the concept of escape at all. The wrong vow was just the beginning.

Julian didn’t get cold feet. He got on a plane, back to Selene, back to the woman he swore was history, and left Mira to realize, in real time, in front of everyone she knew, that three years meant absolutely nothing to him. Atherton doesn’t forget things like that. It doesn’t even try. So when Sebastian Calloway offers his name, Mira takes it. She signs the contract, lifts her chin, and tells herself it’s just survival. A cold arrangement between two people who have never liked each other. He tells her he wants it real. She almost believes him. She hates herself a little for that. Because Sebastian isn’t doing this out of kindness. Mira is useful, her name, her influence, the quiet authority she carries without even trying. A woman still raw from humiliation is a woman who won’t look too carefully at the hand she’s reaching for. He knows that. He counts on it. What he doesn’t count on is actually falling for her. Initially it seemed like he was overthinking things, but it happened at once, the way she rebuilds herself without complaint, the way she challenges him without flinching. By the time Sebastian realizes he stopped strategizing and started feeling. Then Julian returns. Regretful. He made a mistake. Mira doesn’t take him back. That’s when he stops being sorry and starts being dangerous. Bitter and bruised, Julian finds an unlikely ally in Tracy, Sebastian’s best friend, who has her own quiet grievances and her own score to settle. Together they become exactly what Mira and Sebastian’s fragile, complicated marriage cannot afford, two people who know exactly where to press to make everything collapse.

“Relax. It was meaningless. It didn’t mean a thing.” Three years. That’s how long Lena Carter loved Evan Brooks—three years of loyalty, late nights, and believing she was building a future with him. Until she finds him in a hotel suite bathroom, hands braced against marble, whispering excuses while her cousin—and closest friend—fixes her lipstick in the mirror. All this happens during Lena’s promotion celebration. Lena should be home, crying into cheap wine and shattered dreams. Instead, she’s stranded on a quiet Los Angeles street at midnight, phone dead, heels in hand, with a group of drunk men circling closer than comfort allows. Then a black luxury sedan pulls up. The man who steps out wears a tailored suit, calm eyes, and an authority that makes the street go silent. Mason Hart. Billionaire. Tech CEO. And—unknown to him—the elusive owner of the company where Lena works as an executive assistant two floors below the C-suite. He offers her a ride. She hesitates. She takes it. That single decision rewrites her life. Mason doesn’t mix business with emotions. He doesn’t date employees. And he definitely doesn’t rescue strangers with haunted eyes. But Lena’s quiet strength, the way she refuses pity, the way pain sharpens her instead of breaking her—it gets under his skin. Lena just wants to forget the man who betrayed her. Mason offers distraction. Protection. Desire without promises. But Evan refuses to let go, spreading lies and suddenly desperate to “fix things.” Her cousin is determined to destroy what little Lena has left. And the closer Lena grows to the powerful CEO who signs her company’s paychecks, the more dangerous her heart becomes. Because falling for a billionaire who doesn’t believe in love might hurt worse than betrayal.

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.