Gidle #i Never Die

My blood ran cold. Not just because of the words, they’d done worse than the scheme. They mocked me. Rewrote my pain as a punchline. Danced on the grave of my dignity like it was confetti. I staggered back from the door, suddenly aware of how my hands were trembling. Of how my chest rose and fell like I was still being dragged underwater. I could still feel it, the betrayal. The nights I cried myself sick. The baby. The blood. The gaslighting. The cold stares. The silence. No, this wasn’t just a memory. It was a resurrection. I pressed my hand to my chest, grounding myself. This body? This moment? It was mine now. Not theirs. Not his. If this was a curse, I’d break it. If this was a second chance? I’d weaponize it. Let them laugh. Let them bask in their borrowed joy. Because from this moment on, I’m not playing the quiet, obedient pawn. I’m the storm they tried to silence. The reckoning wrapped in silk and scars. They don’t deserve peace. Not after what they did to me. I’ll make them feel it. The same agony, the same betrayal. No, worse. Double. And the Kensingtons? Oh, they won’t be spared either. Their blood's just as soaked in my suffering. I lived by their rules in my last life. In this one? They live by mine. And mercy? Yeah, I left that behind in the last timeline.

I am inlove with my Alpha but he is inlove with my younger sister. Younger almost identical sister. She is the more popular and beautiful one, whiles I am the less cool and quiet one. When I turned 19,I was over the moon to find out my mate was the Alpha. But that happiness turn to sorrows and bitterness when I found out he was engaged to be married to my sister. I begged and cried for him but he only rejected me,burning me to the soul and marking my sister. I run that night,and never looked back. Until 10 years later. #1 in Love affair #1 in powerful

What is obsession? Am I obsessed? At first, I was just his substitute, then I became his real bride, then the supposed real bride returned, and I was kidnapped, tortured, and forced to divorce. Then I committed suicide because I couldn’t handle it, but I didn’t fucking die. Then I became a stalker of my ex-husband, who barely remembers me because I was declared dead by the world, and my face got melted down when acid was poured on me. I had a surgery that changed my whole face and my entire identity. Then I started working for him again and he fell in love with the new me, yet still traumatized by the old me, so I had to reveal to him that I was the same person. He was happy and relieved, but the world wasn’t. We were chewed on, spat out, and stepped on. Then he was fired from his company by his grandmother, who adopted a new son to take over the company. Then I was kidnapped again, and bombs were planted on me. We were able to defuse the bomb and escape. Then we were shot in the head by God knows who. His surgery was successful, but mine wasn’t, so I forgot everything about him and was forbidden to remember because a damn bullet is stuck in my head that could kill me if it moves to a sensitive part of my brain. Then suddenly, he was on the TV, framed for murder. I couldn’t hold back, I found myself in prison fighting for him with a gun in my hand, and somehow ended up in a coma, because the damn bullet in my head shifted… to the wrong direction. Then, in between this chaos, the doctor announced I-was-pregnant.

Special Agent Shirley, along with her partner Ackermann had been following this psychotic serial killer who called himself “ANGEL OF DEATH” for the crimes that he had continually committed over a period of about eight years. The two were the best in the entire police force, yet the so called angel of death outsmarted them like it was nothing. And they didn’t know how he did it, because he left no clues and he never made mistakes. After years of clueless investigations, they finally got their hands a video footage that showed him fleeing a crime scene. The video that was supposed to be the answer to all their unanswered questions, was rather a door that let in a million more.

It's a coalition of parallel worlds trying to survive a new and uncertain phase called marriage. It's the hurting, The loving, It's the sex, The secrets, It's the moment they said I DO. *** Marrying a billionaire and going from rags to riches wasn't at all what Dawn had foretold for herself but when the former becomes the latter, she finds herself sharing vows with a retired fuckboy who has quite the reputation in slutry. However, as time progresses, the newlyweds both realize that; it isn't what happens on the outset that matters, it's the rest of the other days when you have to live in a whole new world called marriage—where sometimes the steamy sex and miscellaneous extravaganzas aren't enough to keep the secrets at bay.

ตะวัน จารุกรุง คือหญิงสาวที่มีความฝัน ซึ่งบนกระดานแห่งความฝันข้อสูงสุดของเธอคือ --เป็นผู้หญิงของคีน ชอว์น-- และความฝันขอสุดท้ายบนกระดานแห่งความฝัน --สามวันสุดท้ายกับ คุณคีน-- ตะวันแตกต่างเพราะเธอไม่เพียงแต่แค่ฝันและแค่อยากจะทำ แต่เธอทำมันสำเร็จ ตั้งแต่ข้อล่างสุดไปจนถึงข้อสูงสุดของกระดานแห่งความฝันนั้น ก่อนที่ชีวิตเธอจะไม่เป็นของเธออีกต่อไป แต่ใครเล่าจะรู้ว่าช่วงเวลาสามวันที่ตะวันยอมแลกทุกอย่างให้ตัวเองบรรลุความฝันนั้น เธอต้องพบกับความสูญเสียมากเพียงใด เมื่อถึงวันหมดอายุของกระดานแห่งความฝันของเธอ ลูกชายที่กลายเป็นฆาตกรฆ่าพ่อตัวเอง และ คนเถื่อนนอกกฎหมาย คีน ชอว์น ซาตานในคราบมนุษย์ เดินเข้าสู่ทัณฑสถานชาย ด้วยใบหน้าที่ไร้ซึ่งความรู้สึก ดวงตาแข็งกร้าวแดงก่ำอย่างกับไม่ใช่ดวงตาของมนุษย์ เขาหันกลับมาให้เจ้าหน้าที่คุมตัวปลดกุญแจมือก่อนที่เสียงลูกกรงค่อยๆเลื่อนปิดขวางกั้นอิสระภาพต่อหน้าต่อตาเขา

Aristotle Napoleon Higgins is one of the most eligible bachelors in the country. He promised himself not to marry anyone but his grandfather is not having it. He wants him to marry a fine woman and have kids before he reaches 30 and threaten to disown him and remove all of his assets. He knew that his grandfather is not kidding at all so he use all of his connection to find a woman of his taste to act as bride on his "wedding day".

I was reborn the year the Blood Moon War began. The first thing I did? I sacrificed my child. The child of my blood-bonded mate, Lord Lucius of the Covenant. In my last life, he chose to protect his childhood sweetheart, Lilith, when she slept with a werewolf. He stole my pureblood heir and replaced it with her half-breed mongrel. They branded me a traitor. In a sun-scorched dungeon, they burned my scarred body to ash with holy light. And my own son, his mind poisoned by Lilith, stood on my ashes and cursed me to Hell for all eternity. When I opened my eyes again, the blood ritual for my heir was already three months along. I didn't hesitate. I went straight to a witch, and with a potion brewed from my own heart's blood, I ended it. Then, I put on something else: an expensive amulet of Blood Illusion. It faked the energy of a pureblood fetus. It masked my true state, cloaking me in the sweet, alluring scent of a pregnant vampire. It even created a perfect illusion of a growing belly. Lucius needed an heir to cover for Lilith’s crime. Fine. I’d play along. This time, I had no weaknesses.

My uncle’s rival, Emmett Meyer, saved me twice. The first time, I was drowning after a shipwreck—until he cut through the waves on a speedboat and dragged me ashore. The second time was after someone had slipped drugs into my drink. That night, I seduced him, a hardened man ten years my senior. In the dim glow of a private room, he guided my hand downward and growled, “I want you so bad, Babe.” He took me ruthlessly, ignoring my sobs and pleas. From then on, Emmett—the untamable “Prince of Silverbridge”—abandoned his reckless ways and devoted himself to me. Or so I believed. Then one day, he coaxed me into his Rolls-Royce and captured our tryst on camera. I flushed with embarrassment and secret delight. Later, as I hurried after him to return some documents he had left behind, I heard the sneers whispered in the hallway: “You’re so wild, Emmett. Everyone heard your girl moaning.” “Damn, the car rocked so hard I thought you’d break it.” “Hey, if Franklin Reed ever finds out that his precious niece has been your plaything for three years… think he’ll have a heart attack?”

She married him knowing one thing clearly: love was never part of the agreement. Their marriage was built on terms, not promises. A shared home. A shared bed. A public image to maintain. Nothing more. He was distant, controlled, and never cruel — but never warm either. To him, she was a wife in name, a solution to a problem, a role that needed to be filled. What neither of them expected was how silence could become dangerous. How intimacy without love could still leave marks. How wanting someone could come long before admitting it. As the line between obligation and desire begins to blur, she must decide how long she can stay where she isn’t truly chosen — and he must face the truth he never planned for. Because sometimes, the most dangerous thing isn’t loving someone too much… It’s realizing you never meant to love them at all.