Hope Mikaelson Rings

This story involves a powerful halfbreed Alpha female she-wolf, Hope Ellis. Her fated mate counterpart Alpha Wyatt Harris and their adventures in finding each other and her mother's killer. Wyatt wants a life with his mate, but all Hope wants is vengeance. Wyatt will do whatever it takes to have Hope as his own, even taking on a pack of blood thirsty werebears, and Hope will do whatever is necessary to keep him safe and finish her mission. Only then will she allow herself to be with the man she loves.

A misunderstanding that leads to hatred, between a king and his queen, who once loved each other immensely. In other to save her people from brutal killing and torture, Queen Zara agrees to be the wife of their enemy...the enemy who took away their home and made them slaves. She is forced to denounce her husband. To deny every proof of ever loving him. Carl is hurt by his wife's claims, and he felt betrayed. The love he once felt for her was turned into poison and hatred... He sorts for revenge, not only from his old enemy but his new enemy...Zara. Book 1: Married to the arrogant king Book 2: Hated by the ruthless king

Nora Hale seemed like the perfect housewife: quiet, obedient, and invisible in her suburban Texas home. She cooked, cleaned, and supported her husband, Caleb, while enduring his insults and her spoiled daughter Tara’s constant disrespect. No one knew that beneath her modest life, Nora was Nora Hamilton, the reclusive billionaire CEO of Hamilton Global. She gave up her empire for love… but love betrayed her. Everything changes the night Caleb publicly humiliates her, calling her worthless and replaceable. That’s when Nora snaps. She takes her youngest daughter, Mia, packs a single suitcase, and vanishes, leaving Caleb desperate, groveling, and shocked. Within days, the world discovers the truth: the quiet housewife is a billionaire powerhouse, and she’s back. Now, Nora is unstoppable, reclaiming her empire, exposing betrayal, and showing Caleb and Tara that the woman they thought they knew is gone. This time, she’s in control, and no one will ever make her feel small again.

My mom has been brainwashing me with her "quid pro quo" rule. Apparently, I must work hard in earning money just to get whatever I want. A round of doing the dishes earns me 50 cents. Mopping the floor once grants me one dollar. If I get a full score in my exams, that'll be five dollars. In order to buy a pair of white sneakers that I had had my eye on for a long time, I spent three months picking up trash from the streets. I lived like a maid who was paid on one-time services in this home. When I was a high school senior, I fainted during my homeroom period due to long periods of malnutrition. Even though my doctor suggested to my mom to pay attention to my nutrient intake, she began calculating the costs in front of my sick bed instead. "Your hospitalization costs 300 dollars. On top of that, you have a 200-dollar medical bill to settle. All of these costs will be reflected on your wedding gifts in the future, Emily." But when I turned my head, I saw a student sitting on the bed being fed chicken noodle soup by her own mother. Said mother was so heartbroken by her daughter's illness that she kept shedding tears as well. At that moment, my outlook on the world, that I had been maintaining for 18 long years, finally crumbled into dust. It turned out that not all children needed to work hard just to feel their parents' love. After getting discharged from the hospital and returning home, I finally sobered up the moment I noticed the sneakers that my younger brother, Arnold Baird, wore that cost several thousands of dollars. Then, I tore the family portrait into pieces and didn't hesitate to fill in the university that was located the furthest from home when it was time for me to submit my post-graduation details. Ten years later, my mom calls me on the phone. She starts crying to me how Arnold has swindled her out of her pension. Apparently, he's even sold the house just so he can elope with his girlfriend. Not only is my mom alone now, but she doesn't have a place to stay as well. I just smile as I throw her a piece of rag. "You want to live with me, huh? No problem. You'll earn 50 cents for every window you wipe. You can earn your rent like this."

"Can someone Save Me?" Lilie De Vega always asks that to herself after all the doubts, self-hatred, fear, and sorrow that she had been holding for a long time. For her, no one will save her, no one will listen to all the hatred and doubts that the world has given to her. No one will ever help her to find the light that she had been looking for a long time because, for her, she's a mess and worthless. Not until the man named Lucas Nixon Montiero, came and saved her. Also to prove that she's worth it and a beautiful mess. Book

The princess was now standing in front of me. But she was not what I expected. In fact, to say I was disappointed was an understatement. Like what the fuck. I've heard stories about how beautiful and enchanting she was, but the woman standing in front of me was completely opposite from that description. The woman standing in front of me was chubby. What the hell? I thought they said she was slim and slender. She even had a mole on her nose and when she smiled at me, I almost puked. She had a huge gap tooth and looked like a clown. "Greetings your highness," she said, and I almost died. Please don't tell me that is my bride. Like, what the f*ck?!

Stella means, "The star of the whole world." Cassiopeia Stella has everything she wants. Money, beauty, fame, and intelligence. She's the brightest star of her family, she's the lucky charm of her family. Everyone wants her, everyone admires her personality, everyone loves her. Everyone wants to be her. But there's one thing that everyone doesn't know. She's the secret of the billionaire. She's the billionaire's secret.

Have you ever dreamt of becoming your stepson's wife? Of course, Jules never expected it, until she met him. * “Who is she?” he barked staring at the woman standing beside his dad with a cold gaze. “Your stepmom, Jules. My newly wedded wife.” his father answered, drawing Jules closer. Hero's lips twitched. Stepmom? He took in the young exquisite woman and sneered. She's more like a gold digger and as long as he's here, he would never accept her as his stepmom. Never!

My father was a senior HR executive. He used KPIs to define my life. "Rank top ten in your grade, and I'll give you a B, with a bonus of 250 dollars. "Place in a state-level competition, and you'll get an A, with a bonus of 500. "If your SAT score hits Ivy-level, I'll give you an S+ and a 5,000-dollar year-end bonus." I studied as if my life depended on it, and in the end, I got the acceptance letter. My father slapped a contract down in front of me instead. "Congratulations on onboarding into the next phase. Starting today, your allowance will be structured as base salary plus performance plus attendance bonus. "Base pay is 250 dollars a month, enough to keep you from starving. "To prepare you for a high-pressure work environment, I’ll conduct random inspections. Fail, and your pay gets docked." When I ran a 104°F fever, he cut my attendance bonus, saying my physical resilience didn't meet standards. When I forgot to submit a weekly report because I was buried in schoolwork, he froze all my money. To stay alive, I went behind his back and sold blood at the hospital. At the end of the semester, I held my transcript and scholarship certificate, thinking I had finally earned the highest rating. But my father looked at me without a trace of warmth. "Your S+ bonus has been reallocated. The company decided to invest it in your brother, Harry. He has more potential." I looked at the 100-dollar "consolation prize" he handed me and laughed. So in his company, I didn't even qualify as an "outstanding employee."

My father raised me on one principle: fair exchange. If I wanted anything, I had to earn it myself. Fifty cents for washing the dishes. A dollar for mopping the floor. Five dollars for a perfect score on a test. To buy the pair of white sneakers I had been dreaming of, I spent three months collecting recyclables. In that house, I lived like a pieceworker, paid by the task. It was not until my senior year of high school that everything began to crack. I collapsed during morning study, my body worn down by years of malnutrition. The doctor said I needed better nutrition. My father stood by my hospital bed and started doing the math. "Three hundred for the hospital stay. Two hundred for medication. Chester, this all goes on your tab for the future." I turned my head and saw a boy in a school uniform in the next bed. His father was feeding him spoonfuls of chicken soup, his eyes red with worry. In that moment, the world I had known for 18 years fell apart. It turned out not every child had to earn their parents' love. After I was discharged, I went home and saw the pair of designer sneakers on my brother's feet; it was worth thousands. That was when I finally woke up. I tore up the family photo and, without hesitation, applied to the college farthest from home. Ten years later, my father called me in tears. My brother had taken all his retirement savings, sold the house, and run off with his girlfriend. He was left with nothing. No home. No one. I smiled and tossed him a rag. "Want a place to stay? Sure. It's 50 cents per window. Earn your own rent."