Hazbin Hotel Pride Ring

Angelo Marcus the prince of a warewolf pack become rebellious and decides to make a human girl as his mate instead of a warewolf. That leads to war between the two respected parks.

Abigail Jesslyn Gretta wanita yang dikenal judes, galak, dan sulit ditaklukkan. Ia bukan tipe perempuan manis yang rela menunduk demi siapa pun. Tapi dibalik sikap kerasnya, ada satu rahasia besar: ia pernah mencintai dengan bodoh—dan masih melakukannya sampai sekarang. Christian Abinaya Miller. Pria yang ia tunggu bertahun-tahun, hanya untuk kembali dengan membawa kabar pahit: ia sudah bertunangan. Dan lebih kejam lagi, tunangannya adalah Hanna… sahabat Jesslyn sendiri sejak sekolah. Jesslyn berusaha keras untuk terlihat kuat. Ia bisa menertawakan luka hatinya, bisa melontarkan kata-kata pedas, bahkan bisa berpura-pura baik-baik saja. Tapi bagaimana caranya berpura-pura, ketika setiap tatapan Christian membuat tembok yang ia bangun runtuh seketika?

Freya Daniella Howard, 24 years old, first heir of Howard Constructions is in ‎love with her boyfriend ‎Benjamin, but scared to tell that to her parents ‎because she knows Benjamin will not meet with ‎their expectations. When her ‎mother asks who she is dating, she without much thought says her best ‎friend's ‎name - Rafael. ‎ Rafael, 28 years old, sole heir of Eastmond Builders, secretly dating a model ‎because he ‎knows his high and mighty parents have high plans for him. ‎Though he's not much bothered because he only wants to savor his love-life for now and focus on his dream; to be eligible enough to be the CEO of his ‎family's business. ‎ However, Freya's lie which was intended to be unharmed ruins all his plans ‎and he becomes her ‎betrothal out of nowhere. Their families celebrate the ‎moment and tie them into Wedlock -- too swift for ‎them to comprehend what in the world has happened to them.‎ Is it fate or Freya's heedless mistake that confined them into marriage?.....hard ‎to answer. ‎

A flicker of hope, a spark amidst the neon grime of New Shanghai. Anya, a slave to the Volkov Mafia, had long buried her emotions under layers of calloused defiance. Years of servitude had carved a burning desire for vengeance into her soul. Then, a whisper of rebellion arrived – a message smuggled in a package, hinting at a Volkov family secret. Anya's heart, long numbed, stuttered awake. This wasn't just a chance to escape; it was a weapon. A weapon to dismantle the empire that had stolen her life, her family, everything. But the path to freedom was a razor's edge. Fear gnawed at her, a constant companion in the Volkov's watchful gaze, their merciless enforcers lurking in every shadow. Yet, a flicker of something else bloomed – a strange, almost forgotten warmth, a sliver of the person she used to be. Could she trust it? As Anya navigated the labyrinth of lies and high-tech security, a deeper truth unfolded. This Volkov secret wasn't just about her escape; it was a key to exposing a far-reaching conspiracy, one that could reshape the city's criminal web. Suddenly, Anya's burning desire for revenge transformed. It wasn't just about herself anymore. It was about a sliver of justice, a chance to dismantle a system that preyed on the weak. But with this newfound purpose came a terrifying weight of responsibility. Was she strong enough to risk everything, to ignite a war she might not survive? The weight of human emotions – fear, anger, and a desperate yearning for freedom – threatened to suffocate her. The price of vengeance was steep, and Anya had to decide if she had the strength to pay it.

Lana menemukan bill hotel di saku kemeja sang suami, tetapi ketika ditanya tentang masalah itu, Yoga berkelit. Lana tidak ingin menjadi perempuan bodoh yang bisa dikhianati begitu saja, maka dia diam-diam menyelidiki. Ternyata benar, suaminya tengah menjalin hubungan dengan seorang perempuan muda yang bekerja di kantornya. Lana tidak lagi memberinya ampun karena jalan satu-satunya adalah perpisahan.

A young woman falls for the young billionaire he works for as a maid. After being saved from a deadly car crash, a billionaire offers a young poor woman to work in his house as his maid but fate has other plans for them.

It was our seventh anniversary. Christopher Quinton proposed to me with nothing but a ring pull. He got his true love a house. When I said no, he rebuked me like I was some sort of gold digger. "I thought my love for you was worth more than anything money could buy. I only got Rachel that house to pay her back for all she did for me. I can't believe you thought I still loved her. You disappoint me." I broke up with him and tossed the ring pull into the bin. Then, I walked off. The next day, Christopher took away my position as VP and told everyone he was getting engaged to Rachel. … Five years later, we ran into each other at a charity horserace. He was a successful businessman, and the woman beside him was Rachel, all dressed in custom-made clothes. I was dressed in janitor attire and stuffing plastic bottles into my woven bag. He mocked, "Look at you, Queenie Dean. Scavenging for a living. Bet you didn't see this coming when you ditched me, did you?" I ignored him. My son had run off, and I had to look for him. The boy noticed the plastic bottles that were strewn across the ground, and he insisted that we stay back to finish his social practice activity here.

On the night of the Benedetto family's Harvest Festival, my Mafia husband, Salvatore, told me to bring our son, Giuseppe, to the family gathering. He said his madre had finally accepted us into the Benedetto bloodline. I was trembling with excitement in our little cottage as I dressed Giuseppe in his finest little suit. He had carved a single wooden rose by hand, a project he'd saved for over five years. He said he would present it to his grandmother at the celebration, a plea for her to accept our place in the family. But the moment we stepped into the stone manor, I saw Carmela. Salvatore had her pinned against an oak barrel in a deep, searing kiss. In the moonlight, her hand was undoing his tie. In front of everyone, Salvatore smiled and gently pushed her away. He walked toward the family members gathered in a semicircle and raised a crystal glass. "Tonight, in addition to celebrating the harvest, I have an important announcement." "I would like to introduce you all to the woman I have married in the eyes of God and the Church." "Miss Carmela Torrino." Before I could even process his words, Giuseppe tore his hand from mine and rushed forward. "Papa, what are you saying?" "Isn't my mother your wife?"

Our seventh wedding anniversary. I sat at the dining table—alone. My phone buzzed, lighting up with two messages. First, from Tom: [Working late at the office tonight.] Second, anonymous: [Tom is incredible. Can you even keep up?] Attached was a picture of him, lips locked with a woman I didn't recognize. I blew out the candles on the anniversary cake. Eyes shut, I typed back: [Let's divorce.]

Despite a decade of marriage, Simon never once shared my bed, claiming that he had pledged himself to ascetic practices and that it was beneath him. I thought that he suffered from some shameful ailment and guarded his secret like a devoted fool, until my birthday, when I came home to find him entangled with a brothel worker before the floor-length mirror. When I lunged forward in rage, he drove a shard of that broken mirror straight through my heart. When I awoke, I was gripping my phone, its screen illuminating a message Simon had just sent: [I’ll still give you a lavish wedding, but the marriage certificate? That belongs to her.]