G Herbo Kids

Le PDG milliardaire Killian Blackwood recherchait les gènes parfaits. Il offrait une récompense colossale pour une mère porteuse. Dix milliards d'euros pour un bébé. Mais les soixante-dix-sept femmes avant moi avaient toutes disparu. Noyée sous les dettes, je n'avais pas le choix. J'ai serré les dents et suis devenue la soixante-dix-huitième. J'ai porté son enfant pendant des mois. J'ai accouché. Et je n'ai pas disparu. Mais au moment où je tendais les bras vers mon bébé, prête à recevoir mes dix milliards, j'ai éclaté en sanglots de terreur. Mon bébé n'était pas humain. C'état une portée de trois louveteaux.

Evan Moore is the perfect husband in everyone's eyes. He gives me a grand wedding and fully supports my career dreams. When I faced a difficult labor, he stayed by my side, kneeling for a full day and night until he nearly passed out from exhaustion. Afterward, he held me in his arms, sobbing until his eyes were red and swollen, his voice trembling with fear. "Honey, let’s not have any more kids… It's just too much." From then on, he spends his days and nights at the monastery, praying devoutly for me and our son, earning the title of the city’s most pious CEO. But one day, by pure chance, I glimpse the handwritten scriptures he keeps so carefully copied. And that's when I realize every word, every stroke, is a confession of his undying love… for his first love. All his tenderness, all his care—it was never truly for me. It was learned for her. I was nothing more than practice—a stand-in for his so-called true love.

“It's all in the past now, let's move on…” Charles's eyes softened at her words but hers were nothing but dead cold. “I want to make up for everything…” “Just go!” She cuts in. Charles looked at her one more time as tears trickled down his cheeks. “Is this what you want?” He asked but got no reply. Seeing how deadly serious she was, he turned and left. *** She's just a poor, beautiful orphan, and he's the heir of the most powerful pack, and they're both best of friends. Anne had a crush on Charles since they were still kids but Charles saw her as nothing but a good friend, one every good person should have. Anne lived with her feelings unrequited until Charles came home drunk one night, and both had sex. They both agreed to leave the one-night stand aside and move on with their lives, but what happens when Anne finds out she's pregnant and Charles finds his mate? Would she still be able to move on?

Valentine's Day. I was stuck on ER duty at Brighton City Hospital. Theodore Madoff, who was supposed to be working late, strolled in carrying his student—Cecilia Kuntzer. She had red marks everywhere and that smug little smirk. "Relax, Mrs. Madoff. Just stomach pain. Lucky me, Prof. Madoff rushed me here." Theo pushed me to treat her. Turns out? She was pregnant. From rough intercourse. And the dad? Theo. My husband. The same guy who'd sworn off kids with me for ten years. Felt like a punch to the gut. But I still saved her baby. Next day, she uploaded a video—ID in hand, cheesy PowerPoint, accusing me of malpractice. Claimed I killed her kid. Then Theo asked for a divorce. Priscilla—his mom—stormed the hospital, shrieking about her dead grandbaby. She brought a mob. All these "righteous" strangers who stabbed me to death. Right there in the ER. I died with my eyes wide open. Then—bam—I woke up. Valentine's Day. Again.

From the moment my twin sister set her eyes on Matteo, she decided he was the one. We were just kids, but that didn’t matter to her. In her heart, she believed they were destined to be together. So when their arranged engagement was announced, no one was surprised. At least, that’s what I thought. But lately, something had felt off. Wherever I went, Matteo was there. Lurking in the dark, concealed in the shadows, always watching. I didn’t know what I’d done to capture his attention. I didn’t want it. Yet, I couldn’t stop my heart from trembling like a bare soul caught in the icy grip of winter whenever he came near. Nor could I ignore my body’s traitorous response to his voice, low and laced with wicked intent. I fought to resist him. I truly did. But it was useless. He knew it. And so did I. So I ran. But that was the thing about the Vitales: they always gave chase.

By our sixth year of marriage, Derrick hadn't touched me in three months. Said he was swamped at work. Always tired. After everything, I still believed him. Then on my birthday, I caught his friend talking in Garmenian—a language Derrick didn't think I understood. "You cut off the side piece yet? You were with her nonstop. Surprised you didn't drop dead. Your wife cool with that?" Derrick let out a smoke ring. "Haven't touched Audrey in months. Sabrina's insane in bed—I'm not over her yet. Sucks she got pregnant. Audrey doesn't want kids, so I gave Sabrina some cash. She'll have the baby overseas." My hands curled into fists. Silent tears streamed down my face. He glanced over, nervous. "What's wrong?" I smiled. "The cake you made is amazing. I'm really touched." It was sweet—but when you understand Garmenian, all you taste is betrayal.

Miquel and Miguel have always been the best of twins since they were kids despite all obstacles. Their father had always been partial, preferring Miquel whom he thinks is more capable to rule the Pack and over seventy Packs after his demise, but little did he know that, the Miquel he always thought could rule the pack is a lady. Will Miguel accept to be the Alpha after being treated like trash by the whole pack? Mysteries begin to unravel themselves when she leaves for the human world in search of her mate. She was too naive but was determined to bring back her mate to the pack, but will he be ready to go with her after discovering her as the Alpha's daughter despite the ugly and cruel things he did to his family? What happens when the twins and their mates have to be reborn in their next life and their mates refuse to accept them as their partners just like in the past? The evil beta needs the blood of an Alpha to live eternally, but will he be able to get Miguel? How will they convince their partners that they were mates in the afterlife?

Shaina’s past relationships were all terrible. The last man she loved and trusted was having an affair with her cousin. Even worse, she was framed as the betrayer. Shaina swore that she would never love again; she’d let hell loose for those who broke her heart. But a night of mistakes was all it took to change her mind. She gave birth to a pair of cute twins. She was overwhelmed with the fact that her children’s unknown father was not just handsome but also a genius. They definitely took after him. “Mommy, don’t worry, we can help you find our father,” said five-year-old, Adrian. Shaina felt like she’d have a heart attack due to her son’s response. Instead of being disappointed because she didn’t even know their father, the kids were excited to find this man. Too many questions needed to be answered when she came back with her children. Where should she start if she can’t remember even the face of the man who impregnated her?

In the two years after Bradley Vaughn's so-called "memory loss," we divorced seven times—all to keep his childhood crush Vivian Monroe happy. Number eight? Because Vivian got pregnant. "You can't have kids anyway. Once Vivian has the baby, we'll get back together. You can raise the kid." That was his usual ice-cold line as he slid the papers across the table. That night, he kicked me out—said Vivian got nauseous just seeing me. I moved into another house. Alone. In the rain. Even after I landed in the ER from a near assault, he didn't bother asking if I was okay. Then one day, I spotted him at a clinic with Vivian. He rubbed her belly and laughed, "So what if she finds out I faked the amnesia? She can't live without me. Toss her a bone, she'll come crawling." I looked away, steady. Then my phone buzzed. [How did your checkup go?]

No dia em que minha irmã gêmea, Alexia Cavanaugh, e eu completamos vinte e dois anos, eu desmaiei e descobri que tinha câncer em estágio terminal. Ignorando a recomendação do médico para ser internada, saí do hospital. Tudo o que eu queria era passar um último aniversário com minha família, sem preocupações. Mas quando cheguei à festa, uma funcionária me impediu na porta e disse que o local havia sido reservado exclusivamente para Alexia. Pessoas de fora não tinham permissão para entrar. Através do vidro, observei meu irmão segurando o bolo enquanto meu pai colocava um chapéu de aniversário na cabeça de Alexia. Até meu namorado estava lá, sorrindo enquanto ela fazia um pedido. Fiquei parada ali por meia hora, segurando o celular, até que meu namorado finalmente atendeu minha ligação. — Eu estava no hospital agora há pouco. Eu— Ele me interrompeu. — Ophelia, você sempre foi saudável. Hoje era o aniversário da Lexi. A gente conversava depois. Mas aquele dia não era meu aniversário também? Minha mãe morreu ao me dar à luz. Mais tarde, o médico explicou que eu havia absorvido mais nutrientes no útero, deixando Alexia frágil desde o início. E, assim, todos decidiram que eu deveria sempre ceder à minha irmã gêmea, que nasceu cinco minutos antes de mim. Amassei o laudo com o diagnóstico de câncer e o joguei no lixo. Cansei de deixar o favoritismo deles me machucar. Nunca recebi o amor deles mesmo. Então, daquela vez, eu escolhi ir embora. Para sempre.