I Am Overlord 소설 & 이야기

A humiliated and broken woman, who had the chance to change her story. She goes in search of the revenge she wants so much to wash her soul. However, she didn't count that in the midst of all this history a man full of traumas and secrets would cross her path. 🔞🚫 Reading for adults and with triggers: violence, sex, rape

They are strangers yet they are not, they are enemy yet they are not, they are friends yet they are not, they are each other world yet they are not"!! Love or will surely happen when two same personalities will clash with each other in an Indian wedding, which is full of rituals and customs. Meet Vihaan Singh Rathore, the most eligible bachelor in the business world, the handsome who is full of himself, is rude, wants to control everything, boss of his home, but on the top of it, excessive drinker. Meet Shanaya Malhotra, beautiful, cute, intelligent and emerging fashion designer. She hates men who drink, are controlling in nature, but on top of it, she is revengeful and does not forgive those who hurt her. Destiny is going to play the game.

"When ruthless CEO Marcel Griffith's family questions his leadership due to his aversion to women, they push him to marry Cindy, a family friend's daughter. But Marcel's world is turned upside down after a passionate one-night stand with a mysterious woman, Stephy Carter. Unbeknownst to Marcel, Stephy is running out of time, diagnosed with a serious heart condition and struggling to afford life-saving surgery. As Stephy navigates her complicated pregnancy and dwindling days, Marcel becomes obsessed with finding the elusive woman who left behind only a necklace. Will they find each other before time runs out, or will their secrets and fears tear them apart?"

Hakim was every girl's dream at Northwest High, and every guy's role model. He was hot, smart, popular, romantic and all, and every girl's dream was to get laid by him. He was living the dream life, but he had one single problem; Dante. Dante was the complete vice versa of Hakim. Soft, gentle, unnoticed, innocent, and these traits drew Hakim's heart towards him, and for that reason, Hakim hated him. He hated his lingering gazes and admiring glances, and he hated that he felt the need to hold him, to protect him, and for that reason he resolved to torment Dante, making his high school days unbearable. Dante was forever scarred by him, and his heart broke into pieces. Now, years later, after the two drifted apart, going on to their two separate worlds, Dante builds an image for himself, he is no longer the timid, innocent boy he was back at Northwest High, but is now a top corporate lawyer in the industry, and a fine one at that. What happens when he is hired by a law firm and finds out that his boss is no other person but Hakim? What will evolve as mysteries unfold and actual truth gets told?

"The Secret of a Forbidden Heart" Akira Quezon, better known as Kira, is a young woman with a sweet smile and a loyal heart. Despite her youth, she harbors a secret love — a feeling ordained by fate but forbidden by society. Her heart continues to beat for Axel, her handsome and mysterious godfather, who, despite being 40 years old, remains dashing and alluring. But behind every glance and secret smile lies a complex past. Axel is a man seemingly shrouded in the shadows of his own secrets. Between their silent gazes and inexplicable closeness, the question hangs — how far will they fight for a love that defies all norms? As secrets gradually unravel, Kira discovers that the man she loves has wounds from the past that he desperately tries to hide. Between truth and desire, they must confront their fears. Will their love prevail, or will they be consumed by the shadows of the past?

The heart that I had waited two years for was given to the fake heiress, Diane Bishop, by my husband. The doctor said that I only had a week left to live. So, I decided to undergo cryonics. I donated my body to Diane’s workshop. The day I signed the donation papers, my son threw himself into my arms and exclaimed that I had finally made up with Diane. My parents praised me for finally being a good sister to help out Diane. My husband was pleased when he said that I had finally let go of the grudge and had become more understanding. I chuckled. They were right, I had finally learned my lesson. I would give Diane my identity as the heir of Bishop Corporation and fulfill everyone’s wishes.

On the night of my engagement party, Luca Moretti walked his childhood sweetheart over to me. "Clara accidentally stained her dress," he said. "Let her borrow yours for a while." He added, "Everyone knows you're the main character tonight. It doesn't matter what you wear." I didn't bother objecting. The gown was already on her. I stood behind the half-closed back door in a borrowed black dress while his men laughed over their whiskey. "Luca, is your real fiancee going to lose it?" someone asked. Luca barely looked up from his glass. "Anna is going to be a Donna. She needs to learn grace." Another man snorted. "Besides, she's an orphan. Where's she gonna go without you?" Luca smiled. "She can't leave me." They didn't know I had never been an orphan. I had buried the Valenti name for five years because I wanted Luca to love me as Anna, not as the Valenti daughter. My father is the Mafia Chairman, the man every family answered to when the highest table met. That night, I took off the Moretti emerald ring, left it beside the guest book, and called home. "Papa, I’m not marrying Luca. Don't come to Chicago."

"I loved that I fell for you but I hated that I was your second. That second which always comes after first!" Lilian Evans got married to Richard Tucker after his first wife died. She couldn't keep her heart in place despite his rude and ignorant behaviour. Things got a little overboard and now she was stuck at a point of no return. How would Lilian unfold her life in chaos with the responsibility of being a mother? "Touching others' belongings without consent! You know that is bad manner, right?" Lilian turned in the direction of the voice only to find her husband standing there in the ebony rich suit, his tie a little loose as he gazed right into her soul. "Oh... Yeah, sorry. I was just-" "Your room is at the end of this hallway, closer to Aid's," he said, taking off his coat and not minding to let his bride complete her sentence.

When Adriano Morelli realized I hadn’t submitted a single household request in three days, he called me himself for the first time in months. “Serafina,” he said, his voice smooth and patient, “the clinic has been cleared. Your file is back on priority. See? When you stop making things difficult and learn how this family works, I make sure you’re taken care of.” He always sounded the gentlest when he was reminding me who held the power. What he didn’t know was that by the time his name lit up my screen, the divorce papers were already drafted. From the outside, I had everything a woman could want: a guarded penthouse, a driver on call, designer clothes, and the last name of one of the most feared men in the city. But almost none of it was mine. The cards were monitored. Cash had to be approved. Staff took Viviana Costa’s orders before they ever listened to me. Even the wardrobe budget, my schedule, and access to the family office all ran through her hands. Adriano called it convenience. Three days ago, I was rushed into a private clinic, blood soaking through my dress, while a doctor told me there was still a chance to save the baby if the emergency deposit was paid immediately. I called Adriano until my hands shook. Viviana stalled the transfer. First there was no direct authorization. Then the amount was too large. Then Adriano was in a meeting and could not be disturbed over something that might not be serious. By the time the money came through, it was too late. The baby was gone. I had stayed with Adriano for two reasons: I loved him, and I believed that when it truly mattered, he would choose me. I was wrong about both. Our child died first. My marriage died with it.

During the eight years I spent by Alpha David’s side, I also raised the pup he had with my late sister. At his birthday banquet, I accidentally wore one of her old dresses. Eight-year-old Dorian grabbed a pot of freshly brewed coffee and poured it over me— right in front of the maids. The scalding liquid burned my skin, and when I looked up, I saw the same cold disgust in his eyes that I’d seen so many times in his father’s. “How dare you wear my mother’s dress?” he sneered. “You’ll never replace her. You killed her with that wicked heart of yours!” The coffee seared more than my flesh. It burned straight through my heart. I looked at the child I’d raised for eight long years. I didn’t feel angry. I didn’t even feel sad. Only a quiet kind of exhaustion. “Don’t worry,” I whispered. “I’ll leave tomorrow.”