Hinata Hyuga Feet

The day I went into labor with the twins, I bribed the family doctor to shoot me up with every heavy-duty suppressant he could get his hands on. Anything to stall the birth. Why? Because in my last life, Vincent—my husband, the Don—claimed to have a low sperm count. To guarantee an heir, he lined up ten mistresses and told the whole house: whoever popped out a son first, her kid would be the next Corleone Don. He promised if I delivered first, he'd ditch the others. Said our baby would inherit the throne. I bought every word. When I found out I was carrying twins, I couldn't stop shaking—I thought I'd won. But after I gave birth, he tossed me and the babies into the freezing wine cellar and locked the place down. "Lucy came from nothing. I just wanted to give her kid a name. You started rumors, pushed her into despair, and now she's dead—her and the baby. You're vile. Not fit to be the Don's wife. Think about what you've done. I'll open the door in three days." Then he had the butler seal it shut. What he didn't know? That night, the cellar caught fire. Me and my babies? Burned alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back—right before labor. This time, I'm not staying. Soon as I deliver and get back on my feet, I'm taking my kids and disappearing for good.

She was the good girl, the kind who went to church, held onto hope, and believed love was patient, kind, and safe. He was the golden boy, a charming athlete with a dangerous edge and a past full of secrets. When their worlds collided, it wasn’t gentle. It was wild. All-consuming. Addictive. From the very beginning, he swept her off her feet , with compliments, promises, and intense affection. She fell hard. He changed her, slowly pulling her away from her values, her friends, and herself. But behind the sweet messages and stolen kisses was something darker: cheating, manipulation, and obsession. When she made one mistake, one moment of weakness, he unraveled. Possessive. Cold. Punishing. Their love turned into a battleground of blame, silence, and control. She finally found the strength to walk away. Two months of no contact. Healing. Distance. She went overseas to find space from the chaos. But just as she began to breathe again, he messaged her. They reunited. Briefly. Just long enough for her to realize the truth: he hadn’t changed. But she had. This is the story of a girl who lost herself in someone else’s world, and slowly, powerfully, found her way back. It’s about love bombing, heartbreak, emotional survival, and becoming your own safe place. She meets other men, learns new lessons, and begins to understand that what she really wants isn’t chaos disguised as passion… It’s peace. Wholeness. Companionship built on truth. He was never her forever. But he was the lesson she needed to meet the love she deserved.

For eight years, Elara Voss was the perfect ghost. She scrubbed floors, cooked silent meals, and endured the biting scorns of her husband, Ryan, and their eldest daughter, Chloe. To them, she was a boring housewife. A servant. An embarrassment to Ryan’s rising social status. They had no idea that the woman they belittled was Elara Hamilton, the reclusive titan behind Hamilton Global, the world’s most powerful tech empire. She had traded her throne for a marriage she thought was built on love. She was wrong. The breaking point comes at a high-society gala. In front of the city’s elite, Ryan publicly discards her, calling her a worthless weight around his neck. He thinks he is finally free. He doesn't realize he just declared war on the woman who secretly funded his entire life. That night, the housewife vanished. The CEO returns. Within forty-eight hours, Ryan’s world implodes. His contracts are canceled, his bank accounts are drained, and his reputation is in ashes. As the global markets reel from the return of the "Iron Queen," Ryan is forced to face a terrifying truth: he didn't just lose a wife. He lost the only person keeping him relevant. Now, Ryan is a man with nothing, chasing a woman who has everything. From the neon lights of Tokyo to the boardrooms of Manhattan, he must grovel at the feet of the woman he once stepped on. But Elara is no longer the devoted wife who stayed for the sake of the family. She is a queen reclaiming her crown, and this time, Ryan will have to prove he is finally worthy of the woman who no longer needs him to survive.

“See, malyshka, you walk in here wearing that little skirt and dare to talk about modesty?” I glanced down at my blazer skirt, heat crawling up my neck as his gaze dragged over my legs. “If I weren’t your patient…” He turned slightly, gesturing to the examination bed, his voice dropped dangerously low, “I'd put you right there and demonstrate… “Mr. Ferrari!” I snapped, leaping to my feet, my heartbeat pounding in my ear now. I had never met a man as vulgar, audacious, and devastatingly magnetic as Gideon Ferrari, especially not one wearing a hospital gown. My first therapy session with the sex-addict patient who should have been a simple case… became the moment my ordinary world spinned off its axis. I wasn’t supposed to think of him. I wasn’t supposed to dream of him. And I definitely wasn’t supposed to wake up breathless, aching, and ashamed of how desperately I wanted him. I prayed I’d never see him again. But part of me wondered, hoped, if he’d ever cross my path once more. When he did, everything changed. It became clear that there was more to this infuriating gorgeous Russian than meets the eye. He seemed too willingly to carry my weight and I had deep wounds from the past that needed healing but the problem was, he's already taken. Will we get away with satisfying our deepest dark desires in secret or will he eventually step up and claim me as his forever?

When I go home for the holidays, I find out that my dad has installed a facial recognition machine at the front door. "You'll have to pay an entry fee of 50 thousand dollars. Will you be paying by card or payment code?" I thought my dad was joking at first. As I laugh, I attempt to walk through the front door while pushing my luggage forward. But my mom passes me a price list with an icy look. "That'll be 200 dollars for dragging stuff across the floor. You'll also be charged 1,000 dollars per hour for using up the air." I'm stunned by her words. "Mom, stop messing around already!" But when I walk into the house, I realize that the air inside has disappeared. Unable to breathe, my face soon turns bright red out of suffocation as I kneel down on the floor. My mom huffs coldly again. "If you want to live, then pay up!" With great difficulty, I dig out my phone and pay the fees. Once the transaction is done, I can feel air rushing through my nostrils and into my lungs. For a few moments, I pant heavily. As I stare at my cold-looking parents, I finally feel that something is off. So, I scramble up to my feet and rush for the door. But that's when I find out that the front door is already welded shut. There's a payment code pasted on the door as well as a message. "Exit fee. One million dollars."

"Kiss me," he ordered, not taking his eyes off of her. "Why? Is she coming this way?" Kelsey asked, trying to look behind him but his warm, big hands caught her face and he leaned into her. "Yes, now kiss me." And she did. As he leaned in, she rose to the balls of her feet to accommodate the discrepancies in their heights and their lips met. He ravished her lips, pinning her against the locker and deepening their kiss. Her eyes widened and she tried pushing him away. They had a deal and kissing her the way he did was not part of it. The next second he pulled away, a mischievous smirk was on his face. "She was not coming. I lied." He gave her one last look before walking away. * * * The day Kelsey's world collapsed, she knew she'd do what it took to get over the humiliation, even if that meant she had to blackmail the notorious boy, Flynn Ascott. The day his biological mother stepped into his school and begged him to give his family a chance, Flynn knew his life was about to change for good. He just did not realize that it would involve a five-foot-two strawberry blonde with a head as stubborn as a stone. Could two broken people heal each other? * * * This is the story of Flynn aka Tyler Vincent's twin brother who was given away and raised by the famous Ascott family? Part of "The Bad Nerd Boy" Series. You can check out Tyler's completed story "The Bad Nerd Boy" here in GoodNovel.

My back hits the cold glass of the penthouse window, the city glittering a thousand feet below us. Sebastian’s hand is at my throat—not tight enough to hurt, but enough to remind me who I belong to. “You were talking to him,” he says, voice low, dangerous. His other hand is braced beside my head, caging me in. “You smiled.” “It was just—” “Don’t lie to me, Ocean.” His thumb brushes the hollow of my throat, and my pulse jumps so hard he feels it. “You’re mine. Every glance. Every breath. Every inch of you.” I should be furious. I should tell him I’m not his property. But then his mouth is on mine—rough, consuming, tasting like the whiskey he hasn’t let go of since the gala. I moan before I can stop myself. That’s all the permission he needs. His hand slides to my waist, fingers digging in as if he’s afraid I’ll vanish. The heat between us ignites like dry kindling. It’s dangerous. It’s too much. It’s everything. When he finally pulls back, his eyes are dark enough to drown in. “One year,” he murmurs. “That was the deal. But you… you’re making me want forever.” And in that moment, I know the worst truth of all— If Sebastian Velez decides to keep me, I won’t even try to run.

I am the orphaned hybrid of a vampire and a werewolf. After my parents died, I was sent to the Silvermoon Pack, taken in by a distant relative on my father's side. They had three sons—triplets—each carrying the noble Alpha bloodline. In public, they were the epitome of grace and charm. But behind closed doors, they were my living nightmare. They despised me. To them, my blood was a stain, my existence a mistake. But in their world, I was more than just an outcast—I was prey. They made a bet: who would be the first to have me? To them, it wasn't just about desire. It was about possession, control. A way to chain me to them, to turn me into their plaything. They drugged me and watched as I collapsed at their feet, powerless, theirs to toy with as they pleased. In the end, they ruined me. Smeared my name until the whole pack sneered at me. Then came the bonfire festival. They tricked me away from the crowd and threw me into a pit—a collapsed silver mine, its air thick with toxic silver dust. Torches rained down, their flames licking at the walls, while the silver seeped into my body. It poisoned me slowly. Bit by bit, my body unraveled. And finally, my consciousness dissolved into the dark. But when I opened my eyes again, everything had reset. I had returned to the beginning. One of the triplets, Reine, smirked as he leaned in, his voice laced with amusement. "Ayla, what a beautiful name. May I invite you to the bonfire festival?" The bonfire festival? Of course. This time, let's make it your last night.

After her father's heart attack, Munachi Alice Rowland needs to stop being the spoiled rich kid in order to assume the position of the director in his gallery. What she isn't prepared for is finding out how bad the state of the gallery's finances are. Now Muna must find a potential investor to get the company back on its feet and pay off their debts. Grant Stevens, Muna's former school mate who made high school hell for her has returned to the city, richer, more powerful than ever and also hot as sin. When Muna finds out that Grant is the CEO of the company her father owes millions of dollars to, she is beyond shocked. Things get worse when she discovers the agreement her father signed with Grant's company. Muna has no choice, other than agreeing to Grant's every wish, which might just entail marriage with him. Muna is very sure it is yet another strategy to torment her, just like he always did nine years earlier. She is supposed to hate Grant, but how can she explain the constant attraction she feels instead whenever he's close? With his flirtatious smile and advances, can she be able to guard her heart and get married to her enemy for two years without catching feelings? As they say, there's a thin line between love and hatred, could Muna's nemesis have some stronger feelings for her after all?

Dante Russo doesn't forgive. He doesn't forget. And when the President of the United States has the nerve to double-cross him, Dante doesn't go for blood—he goes for the man's heart. By kidnapping his son. Marco Powell never asked to be part of his father's shadowy world of corruption and backroom deals. But when masked assailants drag him from a glittering Washington soiree and into the ruthless grasp of Dante Russo, Marco's existence is distilled to the final bargaining chip. Kidnapped. Held captive. Compelled to kneel at the feet of Italy's most lethal man. Dante Russo doesn't just want ransom—he wants humiliation. He wants the President to hurt. And to make the whole world feel it, Dante does the unthinkable: he marries Marco in a ceremony as legal as it is lethal. An altar of a wedding shrouded in blood. A kiss meant to destroy. A war between two men who should hate each other but can't keep their hands off each other. Marco is everything Dante isn't used to. sarcastic, idealistic, infuriatingly beautiful and Dante is everything Marco should fear: fire, danger, sin, and temptation in a designer suit. Their arranged marriage sparks a deadly obsession. Every touch is a battle. Every kiss is war on their lips. And every night, Marco has to ask himself the question he fears most Does he hate Dante enough to fight him? Or does he want him badly enough to burn? Because in this game, seduction and revenge ignite and the line between love and hate doesn't just blur. It burns.