Glass Houses

Ann’s father Joe brought her step-mother and step-sister home immediately after Ann’s mother died. Like Cinderella, Ann had hard time dealing with these two new family members. One day, Ann drank a glass of cocktail which was brought by step-mother to her, and she became unconscious soon after that. When woke up the next morning, Ann found herself naked in a hotel room. Besides, there was blood on the sheet. What happened the night before? What would happen to her next? Ann was confused.

A single line of code was all it took to catch a monster’s attention. After infiltrating the world’s most secure tech empire, a brilliant young hacker, Elliot Lane, finds himself taken—not to jail—but to the glass penthouse of Timothy Blackwood, a cold, calculating billionaire. Timothy doesn’t rage. He doesn’t threaten. He studies. He claims. He obsesses. What begins as punishment becomes possession… and what begins as control slowly turns into something far more dangerous. A desire neither of them is ready to admit.

The myth of The White Wolf has been told for centuries across pack houses around the world. Parents tell it to their offspring as bedtime stories, an old wives tale, the story so saturated and changed over time, every story has become different. When the new alpha of the Starlight pack shows up on the doorstep of the Dark Moon pack asking for protection for his little sister, alpha Ricardo is reluctant to say yes. He is no babysitter, he is known to be one of the most ruthless alphas of all time, conditioning his pack to be the most loyal. But he has a debt to pay to the Starlight pack, and he always pays his debts. He reluctantly agrees to house the girl, but as soon as he lays his eyes on her, he instinctively knows she is like no other wolf he has ever encountered. Her eyes hold secrets better left undiscovered, and the longer she stays with him, he knows he is in serious trouble. The girl might just be his mate...

After returning home from a flight, I realize that my bottle of hair conditioner has run out in the bathroom. The thing is, my husband, Carlos Zappa, doesn't use hair conditioner at all. Seeing Carlos through the frosted glass, I decide to probe him for answers. "Did any guests stay over lately? Or have you started doing hair care?" Carlos flips through the documents, which are stamped with the Zappa family crest, impatiently at my questions. "Maybe a maid accidentally toppled the bottle over when she was cleaning the bathroom. Also, why are you annoying me with such minuscule matters?" When I put on the bathrobe, I feel a ticklish sensation coming from the collar. As soon as I look down, I notice a strand of dried yellow hair being entangled in the collar. The moment the steam dissipates, I see two pairs of intertwining handprints on the bathroom's glass door. I never thought that my home would grow this popular during my one-week trip away from home. I've been married to Carlos for three years, and yet this is my first time finding out that he's actually this wild in bed. So, I secretly text my father, the Don of the Carozza family. "Dad, Carlos has cheated on me. Does the bet we made three years ago still count?"

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.

At a gathering, I discover that the guy my best friend, Rachel Jost, secretly has a crush on has slipped something into her drink. When he brings the glass over to her, I deliberately knock it over, spilling the spiked wine and saving her life. He storms out in anger. The very next day, he announces his engagement to someone else. Rachel comes to me in a rage, convinced that I sabotaged her out of jealousy. "Stella Leigh, if you hadn't interfered, I would've already slept with him! The one he wants to marry would've been me! You just couldn't stand seeing me happy! You ruined my shot at love, so you'll pay for it with your life!" She pushes me off a high building. I fall to my death, my body reduced to a pulp that is beyond recognition. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day of that gathering. Rachel is sitting next to me, stealing adoring glances at the man across from her. The next moment, she turns to glare at me and warns me not to meddle with vicious eyes. Seems like she is reborn, too. But what she doesn't know is that the man she secretly loves has always despised her for being obsessed with him. What he added to that glass of wine isn't some aphrodisiac—it is something that can kill her.

At the ceremony where my father, Robert Clarke, is promoted to the position as the pack elder, my mate, Alpha Ethan Thornfield, raises the wine glass in his hand while smiling at him. "Elder Robert, there's this question which has been bothering me for the longest time. Does shamelessness run in the Clarke family's genetics? Otherwise, how are you able to raise a she-wolf as stubborn and defiant as Isabella who keeps pestering me the whole time?" Dad's wine glass is suspended in mid-air. All the wolves turn to look at us. I place the napkin on the table before meeting Ethan's gaze calmly. "Stop barking like a mad dog, Ethan. I agree to sever our mate bond. That way, you and that mistress of yours can finally get together." Ethan replies softly, "It's wonderful to see you making that decision with a sound mind." On the night the ceremony ends, a mate bond severance agreement, which is prepared in advance, is passed to me. Silently, I drop my signature on the last page of the document. Ethan and that Omega, Chloe Stonehart, have started their affair a year ago. He started forcing me to sever our mate bond six months ago. Since he craves freedom that much, I shall grant it to him. I just hope that he won't regret his decision at all when he loses everything he treasures.

When King Alaric of Vrasambail died, Prince Archer, the heir to the throne, finds himself facing the prospect of ruling the Kingdom before he was ready to do so. Despite having been prepared by his father for kinghood since the day was he born, he found himself wanting one last adventure before settling in ruling Vrasambail for as long as he shall live. Leaving behind his trusted advisors to rule in his stead, and his long-waiting betrothed, he set off for the quest of a lifetime in the Forest of Mysteries. In the numinous forest, he met Aurora, a feisty, independent lady; different from the ladies in the court; as lovely as she was brave. He fell madly in love with her instantly. He was ready to end his prior betrothal and marry her, but in the midst of war against their rival kingdom, marrying a commoner with questionable lineage could mean losing the love and support of the noble houses and the kingdom: a risk his advisors are not willing to take. Archer must choose between love and duty; between happiness and responsibility. Will love prevail amidst betrayals, long-hidden secrets, and pasts long buried?

After my father died, the illegitimate daughter he had been raising abroad immediately returned to the country to fight me for the estate. Her name was Alma. I was his only legitimate child, and I even had a will on my side. However, I still failed to keep my rightful inheritance. My fiancé Wayne, who could command the entirety of North City with a flick of his wrist, insisted on helping Alma. He stood protectively in front of Alma’s wheelchair and asked me impatiently, “With the money I gave you, you could buy plenty of houses like that. Are you really so heartless? Why would you fight a disabled person over it?” I confronted him, my voice trembling with disbelief. “Fighting? That house is the only thing my mother left me.” In the end, Wayne helped Alma win the lawsuit. He looked at my red, swollen eyes with a trace of guilt and said, “Jocelyn, I’ll make it up to you in the future.” However, I knew then that there was no more future between us.

My mother's honey shop served only women, and she sold only one type of honey. The honey was contained in small glass jars, and it had an eerie name—Heart-Eroding Honey. Whenever women came to buy honey, my mother would personally lead them through the shop and into the mysterious beehive room in the backyard. Shortly after the door was closed, there would always be faint, suppressed moans coming from inside. I never knew whether it was from pain or satisfaction. However, when the women reemerged, they would all have rosy faces and radiant smiles, as if they had been completely nourished.