Haganezuka Face

William Mackenzie married Cassandra Wood, a beautiful young woman from a notable family. But he was seen as a useless son-in-law in Wood Family. Because of his job as a shop keeper, he was treated like a trash in his wife's family. He even served the Woods without any complaint. However, 3 years passed, there was a man came to him. "General, we need your power. Would you come back to the Kingdom?"

I was cleaning up the house on the second day after my wife went for a business trip. I casually instructed the smart speaker. “Smart, play some music.” However, I heard a husky, strange male voice. “Sure. I’m the Sun that loves you. Plus, Lindy, I would like to remind you not to forget about your birthday surprise for Sam tonight.” I stiffened and found the music particularly annoying. Linda Clark was my wife, but I had no idea who Sam was. I immediately called my wife. “Did you use the smart speaker at home?” Linda paused for a moment before she laughed indifferently. “Oh, my friend visited me a few days ago. She might have connected her account to it. What’s wrong?” I laughed and told her it was nothing. After hanging up, I found the login record of the speaker and hailed a cab. I headed straight to the registered company associated with the unfamiliar account on the record.

Danielle Cross has spent her whole life running from breakups and troubles. She’s never stayed in the same place for long…until now. The moment she walks through the doors of Logan Dawson’s bar, there’s an attraction between them neither can deny. And when Danielle needs a date to her sister’s wedding, Logan is the man for the job. A cheap trick to fool her family is a small price to pay for a weekend in paradise. Playing pretend is easy. The hard part? Trying to convince yourself the feelings are only fake.

"You're going to meet her someday." I whispered. "Olivia." I forced a smile and lifted my head. "And it's fine. I'll be rooting for you all the way." He cut me off with a soft "Liv." I blinked away my tears. "No, listen to me. We need to accept that this won't last forever. You could find her on your next trip out of town, and I'll be forgotten." I swallowed the lump formed in my throat. "I just hope we'll still be friends." His face twisted in pain as he rested his forehead against mine, his hands trembling as he cups my cheeks. "You'll always be my best friend." "And you'll always be mine." I pressed my lips against his, needing to taste him, to feel his lips on mine, to know that at this moment, he was mine. ^^^ Olivia Martins has always been an outcast in the Nightshade pack. She's an omega and the pack she grew up in never failed to remind her that she'll never be one of them. It wasn't so bad growing up, she had her best friend by her side. Caspian Storm, son of the alpha of the Nightshade pack, befriended her when they were both little, and they've been inseparable ever since. Their friendship started out sweet and innocent, but it developed into more. Olivia knew that it couldn't last forever because Caspian would find his mate and what they had would come to an end. Yet, she couldn't guard her heart and when her worst fear comes true, she flees. Will Olivia and Caspian find their way back to each other or will the threat of Caspian finding his mate keep them apart?

I received a pornographic video. "Do you like this?" The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts. "Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response. "You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!" The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed. I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella. *** “I want to get a divorce, Mark,” I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time—even though I knew he'd heard me clearly. He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!" The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him. "I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster. He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table.

Not long after getting married to my husband, he says he wants to teach me how to scuba dive. My leg cramps when I'm practicing alone in the deep sea. However, my husband, a swimming instructor, chooses to save his unattainable love—she's jumped into the sea to commit suicide. I don't ask him for help. Instead, I allow myself to slowly sink. In my past life, I stopped my husband from leaving. He saved me with gnashed teeth and allowed his first love, Millie Quirke, to drown. By the time he went to save her, she'd already disappeared in the water. He comforted me and told me it was okay, that he was glad he'd saved me. However, one night, he brought me back to the seaside. Just as I let my guard down, he grabbed my neck and plunged my face into the water. Then, he dragged me out before I could suffocate. "You were just cramping—it would've passed! But Millie got dragged away by the current because of you! You can remain in the ocean with her!" When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day I was scuba diving.

My girlfriend and I were reborn, returning to the cramped basement apartment we rented right after graduation. We silently walked out the door together, neither of us mentioning staying together. She went abroad with her childhood sweetheart to further her studies while I stayed behind, grinding away at my company. Seven years later, she became a rising young designer with a bright future and a happy family. I was still grinding away at the same company. When we met again, she clung to her childhood sweetheart's arm, looking down at my slightly disheveled state with a mocking smile. "Long time no see. How did you end up looking like a beggar?" I ignored her. However, later, when the powerful, world-renowned CEO of a top design firm clung to my arm, acting sweetly, her face twisted with panic. "Alex Prescott! How can you be so close with another woman?!"

Russia, the only place where sex and guns could ever taste so sweet—my exact nightmare. The only thing I’m here for is to grind my body over shady politicians for my father’s schemes. I’d be more than willing to do so if it meant I’d pull my mother and myself out of his chains and start a new life. I was so close, so damn close—until he came . . . very much unannounced. Konstantin Morozov, the man I am going to be married off to. Russia’s ruthless beast— earning his crown with bloodied hands. With this, I only had to face two challenges: infiltrate his notorious business as per father’s order and divorce him when the time is right. But dealing with a husband who has a Morozov as his last name was never easy, especially with a gun pointed at my head, and those rough, cruel hands wrapped around my heart. I wonder which blows up first?

I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, so I went online to hire an undertaker in the hopes that he would collect my body. That way, I could die and be buried. I would like to finally be at peace, even if it meant that I could only achieve it after death. I packed up my bags and left home in search of a place to die, only to receive a message from my undertaker. [Sorry, something came up. I can’t come now.] …Excuse me? I’m already half-dead, and you’re blowing me off?

While visiting a property development with my fiancé to buy our first home, I ran into a two-faced real estate agent.   She showered my fiancé with compliments, praising him for being young and successful enough to afford a Rolls-Royce.   Then, she suggested I was a fake socialite with a knockoff designer bag, implying that I was just using my charms to snag a free house.   When she found out the property was meant to be a marital home, her voice grew loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.   “I just think the sugar daddy who bought you those two properties last time treated you pretty well!” “Oh, wait. Miss Gwen, don’t you have several sugar daddies? Do they all know about each other?”   I chuckled. What she didn’t know was that my “sugar daddies” were my godfathers and I really was a socialite.   The kicker, though, was that my so-called wealthy fiancé wasn’t rich at all. In fact, he was just a scholarship student I had been financially supporting!