Good Rouge Names

Having dated for five years and been married for seven, she had never missed his birthday in the past 12 years. The 12 gifts from previous years were carefully placed in the storage closet. However, this year's birthday gift...

She placed her faith in a scumbag in her past life, leading to the destruction of her family. After being tormented in an asylum for three years, she was burned to death by the wicked mistress. She's reborn with a heart of hatred and taken back to when it all started. From that day on, the woman that everyone thinks is naive and dumb becomes ruthless and harsh. She's the calculating heiress to a company, a mysterious hacker, and a top star. She stomps all over her scumbag ex and his mistress. Rumor has it that a certain ruthless CEO gets into a flash marriage with a mysterious woman and dotes on her to no end. The online community tries to dig up her identity—all they find is that it's still her!

"The Rossi family doesn't need a Don. We just need a Donna." As the only heiress of the Rossi family, this was the law that I had set when I received the Browning pistol—a pistol that resembles the ultimate authority in the Rossi family—from my Papa when he was on his deathbed. But three years ago, the police relentlessly investigated the money laundering business that my fiance, Lorenzo Moretti, was in charge of. If that business were to get exposed, the Rossi family's hundred-year-old legacy would be ruined. In order to protect my family's legacy and to allow Lorenzo to continue legalizing my family's businesses, I decided to become the scapegoat for all the crimes. On the rainy night of my arrest, I personally handed the pistol over to Lorenzo. "Protect my family for me before my return." This gave Lorenzo legitimate authority to run my family. He used the pistol to purge my subordinates and take over the family business. He even broke my law by announcing to the public that he'd become the next Don soon. An invitation with golden borders is soon leaked from the family's inner circle. Lorenzo's and another woman's names are printed on the cover. During a visit, my private lawyer says mockingly, "If you don't get out of prison now, the Rossi family might take on another man's last name for real." I just sneer in response. After that, I get bailed out of jail in advance and return home to celebrate Lorenzo's "funeral". But no matter how many times I scan my iris at the biometric scanner in the estate, the result always comes out wrong. A young woman, who's toying with the pistol, opens the door at that moment. The contempt and disdain in her eyes are plain to see. "Where the hell did a crazy woman like you come from? You came to the wrong place. This is my private turf, you know."

A Vampire and a Rouge will undoubtedly be together as a direct result of the feeling they call "Love".   The Vampire has a powerful ability that could kill you in a snap and a rouge that has trained to avenge those Lycans who made her life miserable.   As they find the comfort and satisfacti

A post accusing me of feeding my employees free lunches worse than pig feed goes viral online. However, none of them know that the daily free lunches are all catered from a five-star hotel at 100 dollars per head. The entire internet goes crazy, calling me names and accusing me of being an evil boss. Even my co-founder, Dustin Jager, texts me and says, "Maybe we should go with what the employees want and change it to a meal allowance plan instead." I harden my heart and send out a company-wide announcement. "In response to everyone's pursuit of healthy eating and the right to choose their own lunches, the company has decided to discontinue the free lunch program. "A meal reimbursement plan will be introduced instead, effective immediately, with a daily limit of 20 dollars per person per day. All reimbursements will be calculated at the end of the month with the presentation of valid receipts." As soon as the announcement is made, the company's chat groups immediately go berserk.

I married Mason Fleming, who comes from a prestigious family with a long line of lawyers, at 19. For over 20 years, I devoted myself fully to our home by raising our child, keeping the household together, and supporting his career. Now I'm 40, and he cheats on me. Friends and relatives try to advise me. "Your husband is handsome and successful. He even lets you manage the money he earns. Compared to most men, he's considered one of the good ones." In other words, they want me to turn a blind eye and continue playing the role of a "good wife" to maintain appearances. But I can't keep up with the act anymore.

I'm a dance major who's preparing for her exams. Everyone thinks I'm a good girl, but there's one thing they don't know about me—I've fantasized about being violated more than once…

My husband, Luca, had a childhood sweetheart named Sophia. Years ago, during a brutal gang shootout, Sophia shielded him from the worst of the bloodshed, and since then, she had suffered from severe PTSD. Because of that, Luca would push aside family business every year and fly to our estate on a secluded island off the coast of Sicily to spend three months “helping her recover.” “Victoria, she lost her mind because of me,” he told me. “I’m responsible for her. I hope you can be magnanimous.” So, I nodded. And eventually, I got used to the fact that every year, my husband would disappear for three months to fulfill what he called a moral obligation. That was until the day I flew in without warning to inspect the family’s money-laundering network on that island and saw him. In the town square, under the bright Mediterranean sun, Luca was standing there with a five-year-old boy by his side. “Papa, how long do we have to hide on this island?” the child asked. “I want to go to New York. I want to see the Empire State Building.” Luca laughed gently and scooped him up in his arms. With his other hand, he held Sophia’s. “Antonio, be good,” he said affectionately. “Papa’s position is… complicated. When you turn eighteen and pass the family’s initiation ceremony, I’ll kill that woman and her dead old man. Then, I’ll take you back to New York to inherit the entire Corleone family.” I stood in the shadows, unseen. Slowly, I lit a cigarette. The smoke curled around me as their voices drifted over, the conversation getting more vicious as it went. Sophia leaned into his chest, her tone sweet and coy. “Luca, I’ve been with you for seven years without a name or a title. How much longer are our son and I supposed to live like ghosts?” Luca sighed. “I don’t have a choice. The old man in the Corleone family is still alive. I married Victoria just to get her territory. Don’t worry. I’ve been adding something to her milk every day. She’ll never get pregnant in this lifetime. My family bloodline will only continue through you.” The last thread of reason in my mind snapped. In the six years of marriage we shared, I had been infertile. I’d taken countless hormone injections to stimulate ovulation. I’d knelt in church and prayed more times than I could count. Yet, all along, the devil poisoning me was my own husband. The initial shock faded quickly into rage. I crushed out my cigarette and pulled out my phone. Then, I dialed my uncle, the family’s clean-up man. “Uncle Rocco,” I said calmly, “Luca betrayed me. He betrayed the family. Order a coffin in the finest black walnut for me, and make it large, large enough to fit a family of three.”

When I see someone asking for help in an assignment related to the entrepreneur course on the college forum, I join the group chat using a student account. I even help refine several financial models and market strategies because of my job's nature. Everyone in the group chat is excited, to say the least. Every day, they keep calling me a genius while urging me to improve the details of the whole assignment. Two months later, the assignment's quality is very close to perfection. But the group chat suddenly goes silent. I scroll through the chat history out of curiosity, only to find out that the students have already created another group chat. "That senior isn't an official teammate of ours. Let's not tell her about us using this assignment for an upcoming competition." "Precisely! Our names are the only ones on the list! She'd better not steal the credit during tomorrow's finals!" "With one less person involved, we each get an additional tens of thousands of dollars' worth of rewards!" As I look at the screen, I just let out a soft chuckle. It appears that this isn't an assignment at all. But unfortunately for these students, I happen to be one of the judges sitting at the judging station tomorrow.

I did three years in prison for my wife, Lilian Parson. The day I got out, she handed me an envelope for her company's grand opening. Inside was a single dollar bill. For a second, I thought it was a mistake. Then I saw her colleague, Nathan Ramsey, holding his envelope—his also contained a single dollar. Relieved, I pushed my doubts aside. I smiled, stood by Lilian's side through the entire ceremony, the picture of a proud, supportive husband. That night, scrolling through Instagram, I saw Nathan's latest post. A photo of a check. [Congratulations to Lilian Parson on the grand opening! So generous—100 million as a gift!] The comments section exploded with envy and blessings, congratulating him and "the boss" on finally becoming a couple. Lilian offered no explanation. Instead, she hurried to draw a line between us. "You just got out of prison," she said coolly. "It's not a good look to go public right now. Let's keep our marriage a secret. In front of others, just call me your boss." Then she turned around and liked Nathan's post. I wiped the tears from my eyes, picked up my phone, and dialed the number of her greatest rival. "From now on, I work for you," I said.