Good Shounen Ai

Lors de ma quatrième visite à l'hôpital pour vérifier si ma fécondation in-vitro avait réussi, j'ai vu Roland, qui était supposé être en déplacement, soutenir délicatement une jeune et jolie femme en sortant du service de gynécologie. Le ventre de cette femme était arrondi, visiblement sur le point d'accoucher. En me voyant, Roland a paniqué un instant, puis a protégé cette jeune femme derrière lui. « Cyrille, tu sais, ma famille a besoin d'un enfant pour perpétuer notre lignée... Cet enfant, il n'affectera pas notre relation », m'a-t-il dit, d'une voix pleine de conviction. J'ai saisi la fermeté dans sa voix et lui ai répondu en souriant : « D'accord. » Sous son regard surpris, j'ai discrètement rangé mon rapport médical. Le jour où cette femme a accouché, je lui ai laissé le contrat de divorce et l'ai quitté pour toujours.

Après ma renaissance, j'ai décidé de mettre fin à toute relation avec Jacques, mon compagnon de destin avec qui j'ai grandi. Quand il a organisé une fête à Hawaï pour tous les guérisseurs de la tribu, j'ai pris l'avion pour San Diego. Il a dit que mon odeur lui donnait la nausée, à lui et à son loup, alors j'ai immédiatement déménagé et dépensé 500 euros pour faire nettoyer la maison en profondeur. Il a exigé que je ne me présente plus jamais dans sa tribu. J'ai volontairement abandonné mon poste de guérisseuse privée de l'Alpha et suis partie travailler à temps partiel à la ville centrale pour subvenir à mes besoins. Enfin, il a dit que ma présence risquait de faire croire à sa bien-aimée petite demi-sœur qu'il éprouvait des sentiments pour moi. J'ai acquiescé, puis j'ai accepté la demande en mariage de l'Alpha de la ville centrale. J'ai accepté la dot et j'ai emménagé dans une villa d'une valeur de dix-huit millions d'euros. J'ai rejeté l'amour humble et obséquieux de ma vie précédente, et j'ai choisi de faire des transactions rationnelles et lucides. Après tout, dans ma vie précédente, j'avais tout sacrifié, ma fortune et ma vie, mais Jacques ne m'avait offert que trahison. Quand sa petite demi-sœur avait été empoisonnée, il m'avait traitée de meurtrière et m'avait condamnée à mourir sous la torture de la tribu pour crime. Cette fois, je comptais bien vivre ma vie. Et lorsque je tenais la main de l'Alpha lors de la fête de Pleine Lune, Jacques s'est soudainement dressé devant moi, les yeux injectés de sang. « Amina, reste avec moi, et je te pardonnerai ta décision incorrecte. » J'ai souri avec ironie : « Peux-tu te permettre la villa que mon Alpha m'a achetée ? »

My wife, Charlene Weber, has taken me to the Scumbag Court. If I'm found guilty, all my assets will be taken from me, and I'll face 10 years of imprisonment. Charlene, on the other hand, will get to marry her ideal man—Joel Quinlan—as she wishes. If I'm acquitted of all charges, Charlene will be made to divorce me without alimony. She'll also be cursed with bad luck and disfigured so badly she'll be the ugliest woman in the world. Conversely, I'll be given 10 million dollars in reparations and gain a lifetime's worth of good luck. Everyone is advising me to admit to my mistakes, but only because Charlene has always been a virtuous, devoted wife in their eyes. They think that there must surely be some complicated grievances between us at the moment. However, they are unaware that I've been reborn. This time, I'm going to tear off Charlene's mask of hypocrisy.

My wife—Nancy Valente—had been "missing" for three months after some fake skiing accident. I spotted her at a bar. She was draped over Finley Bennett's shoulder, laughing like she hadn't wrecked my life. "Good thing you came up with this plan. I almost forgot what freedom felt like." Her crew kept clinking glasses, asking when she planned to pop back up. She glanced down. "Maybe in a week. I'll show up once he's lost his mind." I stayed in the shadows, watching her bask in her little escape act. Then I grabbed my phone and called a buddy at the Vital Records Office.

My family was supposed to be the richest of the land, yet I had to refund even a cheap delivery. Why? In my previous life, my housekeeper's daughter got her hands on a trading system. Every cent of money I spent would be hers. She started trying to guilt-trip me into donating to all the impoverished students in her school. It was charity anyway, so I signed a check worth 300 grand. The moment I did, that money became part of her savings, and the amount on my check was zero. Everyone called me names, called me a charlatan. Even the boy toy I spent good money on broke up with me. That girl used my money to donate to charities and became the kind and beautiful heiress. She told everyone I was the housekeeper's daughter instead. Furious, I grabbed my black card and started shopping like crazy. I wanted to prove I was the real heiress, but the balance in my account was cleared immediately. That girl then spent 1.2 million right away, like it was one dollar. She scoffed at me. "Don't try to act like you're rich when you're a broke loser. Your mother doesn't make enough as a housekeeper." The Internet decided to hunt me down. I could not handle the stress, and my mind broke. For some reason, my body withered away at a blistering rate. Before my father could save me, I drew my last breath. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to that fateful day. The day the housekeeper's daughter made me donate to the school.

On the company's designated monthly day off, Gigi Lott, Donald Hoover's secretary, posted an Instagram story. The caption read, "So what if you're the boss of me when we're at work during the day? At night, I'm the one on top!" In the photo, she was lying atop a water bed covered in rose petals, and the usually stern Donald was kneeling down to massage her feet for her. From his pocket hung a brand new golden necklace. Just that morning, I bought several gold bars and gave them to Donald while beseeching him to make our relationship public. He happily took the locket from me, but when I tried to take a photo of us with our phone, he smacked my phone out of my hands, smashing it into pieces. With a look of pure derision, he declared, "Why don't you take a good look at yourself in the mirror first? You really are a motherless wretch who wasn't raised right. Look at the lengths you'd go to just to ruin me!" Throughout the last five years, I had meekly gone along with his demand that we keep our relationship a secret, claiming it was because office romances were forbidden. But now, I was abruptly hit with the realization of how laughable it all was. The next day, I sent my father a message. "I admit defeat. I'm willing to come home and inherit the family business."

Lewis Gordon says he likes older women. Seeing that he's young, energetic, and good in bed, I agree to be his girlfriend. But when he runs into me with his friends while I'm dressed in business attire, he is stunned and doesn't know how to react. Then, he quickly introduces me. "She's just a neighbor like an auntie." What? Middle-aged? I immediately break up with him. He sends a clumsy explanation, "When you dress like a middle-aged woman, it's really embarrassing for me." I block him and don't bother replying. Five years later, I bring my son along to celebrate my husband's godfather's birthday. Lewis shows up, holding hands with his girlfriend. When he hears my son call Johann Tucker "Grandpa Johann," he pulls a long face. He blurts, "This is my son, right? He should be calling him great-grandfather." I shoot him a look of pure disgust. "He's not your son." Lewis points at my son's face and sneers, "Look at his eyes and his face. He looks exactly like me. How can you still insist he's not my son?" All I can think of is my extremely jealous husband. If he hears Lewis claiming that he's my son's father, will he go crazy and kill him?

Seven years into their marriage, Bella got hit with a truth—Steven had a kid. A six-year-old. She crouched behind the preschool slide, barely breathing, as Steven bent down to scoop the boy up. "Daddy, you haven't come to see me in forever." "Be good, Ollie. Work's been crazy. Listen to your mom, alright?" Bella froze. Same face. Same eyes. It was obvious. Everything about them screamed it—The man who swore he'd love her forever had been cheating on her this whole time. Steven and Bella weren't just a couple. They were childhood sweethearts. She once took a knife for him. Nearly died. Lost their baby. Lost the chance to ever have one again. Steven had held her hand back then, eyes red, saying, "I don't care if we never have kids. As long as I have you, that's enough." She still heard the shake in his voice. Now? Every promise. Every memory. All of it—gone.

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.

Liam and I have been together for five years. We were supposed to become mates in a month. I have been planning our honeymoon because in these five years, we have never left this city. So I prepared a $100,000 trip in advance as a mating gift for Liam. When I mentioned it to him, before I even finished my words, he interrupted me impatiently, “Who asked you to plan it? For our honeymoon, I will only give you a budget of $50. We’ll just go somewhere nearby for a night.” That night, I found out he had transferred his $1 million hunting competition bonus to his childhood friend Stella, letting her use it to buy an apartment of her own. He got really mad at me, when he saw the receipt for the $100,000 I had prepaid for the honeymoon. “Who gave you the right to spend our future money on a trip?” Liam’s parents also yelled at me, “You are just a useless Omega! You can’t even shift into a werewolf form, unlike Stella, you are not good enough for our son.” But every single cent was earned by myself from my herb business. I broke up with him without any hesitation. Liam stole that trip from me and went on it with Stella instead. Seven years later, we ran into each other at the Alpha’s castle. Liam was about to become a Warrior of the pack. Meanwhile, I was on my knees, searching for something on the floor. “Mia, you broke up with me over a $50 honeymoon fund back then. Now, you are working as a maid? You’re in this mess because of your own choices.” In fact, I was looking for my pup’s favorite toy. It had rolled under one of the tables earlier. “Is that so? Don’t you even know who the Luna of this castle is?”