Romans & histoires Hao Dong Ma

"We'd like you to come with us to the station immediately," Vanessa's heart began to beat faster, "I don't understand," she said, "What for?" "Mrs Spencer, you're wanted as a prime suspect in the murder of your husband, Mr Christopher Wesley. You need to come with us to the station for questioning. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do or say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. I suggest you don't try to resist. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?" Vanessa's jaw dropped. Christopher was dead! It was impossible to believe. She'd just spoken to him that afternoon. It had to be a mistake. She nodded, "I…. I…. I need to call my lawyer," she said, when she finally found her tongue," "Ma'am, you can do that at the station. Turn around, please," —----------- Politician and governorship aspirant , Christopher Wesley is dead ; shot in the head right in his own house. The killer is unknown, but the police have a suspect —his estranged wife, Vanessa Spencer Detective Alaric Harper and his partner are placed in charge of this case and at first Alaric is certain that Vanessa had killed her husband. Her motive? He's not sure of. Could it be spite? Maybe the money? Or maybe she just got tired of him delaying their divorce? He's determined to find out and he's sure that he will, but one thing he never expected — falling for her…..

"I want you to feel every sensation I give you tonight. Every touch. Every shiver. Everything." His lips traced a path of fire from the plane of her stomach to the hollow of her throat, finally claiming her mouth in a deep, consuming kiss. His tongue sought hers, a slow, deliberate invasion. And then, he introduced the cold. A sharp, shocking block of ice met her parted lips. He held it there with his own mouth, the searing heat of his kiss a stark contrast to the biting frost. The cold stole her breath, a small, exquisite pain, but under the relentless warmth of him, the ice began to yield. Meltwater, cool and clean, trickled between their joined lips as he kissed his way down the slope of her shoulder, his face finally finding refuge in the tender curve of her neck. A helpless, shuddering moan broke from her. "Yes, ma reine," he murmured against her pulse, the endearment a dark caress. "Let me hear you." --- Driven by a fierce desire to wound the Alpha who bound her in a loveless, forced marriage, Magdalena sought solace and revenge in the arms of another. She never imagined the captivating stranger in the dark was her husband himself, concealed by a potent glamour and his own ruthless cunning. But what happens when the mask slips? When the thrilling, secret lover she surrendered to is revealed as the very man she vowed to despise? Can she flee from the web of his deception, or has her treacherous heart already made its choice, binding her to the one who is both her tormentor and her destiny? H

Half a year into my death, my wife, Serena Beckett, wants me to donate my kidney to William Clark, her heavily ill first love. Serena smashes my tombstone like a madwoman in the graveyard. Then, she kicks the tokens aside. "He's dead? What sort of sick joke is this? Jason Shaw is a coward! He definitely doesn't have the guts to die! "I think he just doesn't want to save William's life! To think that he actually roped you guys into putting up this act just to pretend that he's actually dead!" Serena is furious, to say the least. The graveyard's staff members are so frightened that they dare not speak up at all. A newly-recruited staff member finally muster the courage to say something. "Ma'am, Mr. Shaw really is dead. Apparently, he died in the donation surgery that had taken place half a year ago… He—" "Shut up!" Serena slaps him while cutting him off. "You really think I'll believe that bullshit? Tell him that if he doesn't show his face in three days, his little sister can forget about getting off the surgical table alive! I mean what I said!" With a dark expression, Serena turns on her heel and leaves angrily afterward. But the staff member looks toward another tombstone not far away. Then, he lets out a heavy sigh. "It's a shame that his sister has already died due to her illness taking a turn for the worse."

On the very day I returned home, my would-be mother-in-law slapped a check across my face. “Five million dollars. Walk away from my son. I’ve dealt with gold diggers before, who think a pregnancy can lock a man down. You’re not nearly as smart as you believe.” Before I could say a word, a girl in a white dress shrank behind her, clutching her sleeve with trembling fingers, her eyes brimming with tears. “Mrs. Sterling, please… don’t do this. What if Adrian finds out? And… if he truly cares about her, I’m willing to step aside.” I let out a soft laugh. So that was the story she had written for me. A calculating woman trying to steal her man. I bent down, picked up the check, and tucked it neatly into the deep neckline of Lily Bennett’s dress. “Here. A tip. Your performance wasn’t bad.” Then I pulled out my black card and flicked it onto the table. “Ma’am, I’ll offer you ten million. Keep your son on a leash, and tell him to stop bothering me. I find him revolting.” I paused, then added lightly, “Oh, and one more thing.” I gestured toward the delicate little flower she was guarding so carefully. “The girl you’re protecting? My father brought her home last year. His illegitimate daughter. “If anyone thinks they’re joining my family, they should probably ask the Bennetts for permission first.”

"Hi there, I'd like to emigrate." Christina stood at the counter and handed over the neatly prepared documents to the clerk on the other side of the glass. The clerk quickly stamped each page. The red ink spread like tiny ripples on still water. Then, without looking up, he pulled out another form and passed it back to her. "Ma'am, your paperwork will be processed in fifteen days." Christina nodded, turned on her heel, and headed for the exit. But before she could step outside, whispers trailed after her. "Did I see that right? Mrs. Waldorf is applying for emigration? Did she have a squabble with Mr. Waldorf?" "Even if they argued, would it go this far? Mr. Waldorf practically worships her. What could possibly make her leave so decisively?" "Exactly. Five years ago, their wedding was the event of the century. Even someone like me, who barely goes online, heard about it. And three years ago, after her car accident, the blood bank ran out of stock. Mr. Waldorf ignored everyone's objections and nearly drained himself to save her. Then, just last year, when she disappeared for an hour, he mobilized every media outlet worldwide to find her. Now she's leaving without a word—won't that drive him insane?" The murmurs swirled and lingered, but Christina only smiled faintly. Her expression was calm, but her eyes darkened with a bitterness that deepened with every step. Yes, she thought. Everyone knew just how much Lucien Waldorf loved her.

My brother Christopher owned a boutique on Fifth Avenue. I'd gone in, picked out a few pieces, grabbed a silk scarf on the way, and was heading for the door. The clerk behind the register stopped me. "Ma'am, we'll need you to settle this now." I looked up. Her name tag said Yvonne. Unfamiliar face. Probably new. I didn't think much of it. "Just put it on the owner's account," I said politely. "He knows who I am." She gave a little snort through her nose, eyes raking from my hair down to my shoes. "We don't run accounts here. You might have the wrong store." She pushed an itemized bill across the counter. Four hundred thousand dollars. I scanned the line items. Personal Style Consultation. Premium Fitting Service. VIP Client Private Service. Every single charge cost more than the clothes themselves. I let out a short laugh. "I'm a Whitfield. Christopher's my brother. Whatever this is, he can deal with it at home." Her smile got uglier. "Anyone can claim to be a Whitfield, sweetheart. Are you trying to skip out on the bill, or are you just trying to embarrass yourself?" I didn't bother arguing. I pulled out my phone and texted Christopher: [Fire the clerk named Yvonne in the next ten minutes, or I pull every dollar I have in this store.]

He betrayed me w‌ith my own stepsi⁠ster. Big mistake. I though‍t my ma‍rriage to James was my forever—a sac⁠red vow built on love and l‌oyalty—until I‌ caught hi‍m tangle‌d in our sheets with Mel, the woman I once trusted most.‍ T‍hat betrayal shattered my world into a thousand‌ jag⁠ged pieces and left me gasping fo‌r breath‍. Broken, hu‍miliated, and cast out, I cl⁠ung‍ to the only thi⁠ng left: the secre‌t of a tiny life growing in⁠si⁠de me‌, a miracle after⁠ years o‍f h‍eartache. Then Silas Truman, a powerful billionaire, stepped in‌t‍o my sh‌attered wo‌rld w‌ith an‍ offer I couldn’t refuse—a marriage contract p‍ro⁠mising str‌ength‌, security, an‌d a ch⁠ance to re‍build from the ashes. De‌sperate, I took it. Three y‌ears later⁠, I returned‍ not the broken girl I was, b‍ut a woman who comman‌ds an empire. But life’‍s crue‍l twist s‍truck again when Silas lost his memory in an accident, erasing everyth⁠ing we built toge‌t⁠her. Now, with his empire in my hands, I face James’s shadow and a choice I never ex‍pected—betw‌een the past t⁠hat almost destroyed me and‍ a future I never saw coming. ⁠The qu‍estion is, which path will I choose when everyt‍hing hangs in the balance?

"Good afternoon, ma'am. You just walked out of Boston City Hall looking absolutely radiant. Any special occasion to celebrate?" "I'm getting divorced." "I'm sorry to hear that. Would you mind telling me what happened?" "He's been bedding his late right-hand man's sister. In my art studio, on my yacht, across my private study desk, and even on the grand piano in our living room. He thought I didn't know." "I can't imagine how much this hurts. I'm so sorry for what you're going through. Where are you heading now?" "The hospital. Prenatal checkup." ... The interview went viral within hours for her calm, unflinching recounting of the betrayal and the shocking contrast between her glamorous mafia wife identity and her devastating situation. It didn't take long for netizens to dig out my identity, and the entire world now knows the woman in that video is me. Elena, Donna of the Moretti family. Three years ago, Vincenzo Moretti, the undisputed Don who ruled Boston's underworld with an iron fist, threw me a wedding that made headlines across the nation. Back then, everyone envied me, calling me the luckiest woman alive. But now? That interview had been online for nearly two days, and Vincenzo was still lost in his little love nest. By the time Vincenzo finally bothered to watch the video his men had forwarded to him, I was already in New Zealand. The whole world knew I was leaving Vincenzo Moretti. He was the last person on earth to find out.

 She glares at me with her mesmerizing eyes. Her lips are contorted in disgust. She glares at me. I hold back my smile, " Excuse me." She says to the passing air hostess, averting her eyes from me. she fully ignores me.        "How can I help you, ma'am? " She asks her.        "Can you please take this dumbass out of my eyes? I don't want this shit around me. " She says with a taste of anger.        My eyes widen. I thank the sunglasses.        ' She is damn rude, man! But I love it. '      "Woh girl! Mind your language. I respect girls. " I couldn't take away the shock from my voice.       She slightly draws her face at my side, "It was decent, you big oaf! Don't compel me to be worse." She coldly glares at me as she'd kill me with her eyes.  Suhana is a beautiful, charming and intelligent girl. She falls in love with a merchant Navy boy. When she asked him, will he marry her? Undoubtedly, gleefully he said yes. He made all the promises to her and showed her dreams of a happy married life. After completing her study, they planned to get married. Everyday she was feeling the depth of their love. He was on a six months' contract on ship. She was eagerly waiting for him. Days were passing, it has been more than six months. He didn't come which shattered her and her dreams completely. To know, will she get her love? Please read…. . )

As I was about to leave The Crimson Curtain, my brother Corvus's elite vampire club, a woman who claimed to be the manager stopped me. "Ma'am, you just helped yourself to a priceless vial of Elder's Blood. You have to pay." I looked at the unfamiliar face, sensing the weak blood of a lesser vampire. She must be a fledgling, I thought, new to the club and unaware of who I was. "Your boss approved it," I said flatly. "Take it up with him." But the woman just sneered at me. "Plenty of women try to get close to our boss. If every one of you took what you wanted, how would we stay in business?" She shoved a copy of the club rules at me. Anyone who takes Elder's Blood without permission pays with three times the amount in heart's blood. Or they don't leave. Vampire guards started to close in, some even drawing silver blades, ready to take me down. I laughed, a cold, sharp sound. I couldn't believe Corvus's club had such an insane rule. "I am the Lord of House Volkov. Corvus's own sister. If he needs compensation, he can come to me himself." But her mockery only sharpened. "You look like some low-born stray. Claiming ties to a noble house? Pathetic. Hand over the heart's blood. Now." My patience snapped. I sent a message to the family elders through our bloodline. "Tell Corvus to either make this woman disappear forever, or I'm taking back ownership of this club. All of it."