I Can See Your Voice Haha

On the day I was trying out my wedding gown, a stranger dashed into the VIP room and pushed me hard onto the ground. "I'm the real Mrs. John Curtis. Someone like you, with no money or a strong family behind you, should serve me instead." She looked down on me before kicking my pregnant belly with her sharp heels. The pain blurred my vision and made me break out in a cold sweat. Jolene Nostra crouched next to me and slapped me with the back of her hand. "You were only a jilted lover without wealth or influence, trying to wed into a rich family by getting pregnant." As blood flowed heavily from between my legs, a realization hit me. My fiancé, the person I'd been with for four years, was seeing another woman. "What's this? How dare you give me that look? I could kill you, and nothing would happen to me because I'm Mrs. John Curtis!" As she lunged towards me, I pulled out my phone with trembling hands to call my brother. "Come get me, Anthony. And tell our guys I want the Curtis family gone from South City."

All the relatives knew I had a "backward cousin." For my birthday, she gave me a grocery-store pound cake. When I ran a marathon, she presented me with a pair of worn-out canvas sneakers. At my graduate school acceptance party, she even sent a funeral wreath of white lilies with a sash that read "In Sympathy," wishing me an early departure to the afterlife. In my previous life, I slapped her so hard she tumbled down the porch steps. My brother took her side and plotted revenge, falsely reporting to the university that I had cheated on my SATs. My admission was revoked. "You're so modern. You know how things work," he sneered. "Plenty of people take a gap year. Just apply again." My father also defended her, cutting off all my financial support. "You've had so much schooling. You're so educated," he said coldly. "Support yourself." Alone in a city eighteen hundred miles from home, I fought to survive. I called my brother and my father again and again—only to be blocked. I delivered food while renting a room and studying to reapply. At my lowest, my hands were raw and cracked from frostbite, scrambling for delivery shifts at four in the morning just to earn a small bonus. Worn down by the cold and exhaustion, I suffered cardiac arrest at twenty-three and collapsed in a snowdrift in that unfamiliar city. No one ever came to claim me. This time, I chose to let it go and accepted the wreath with a gracious smile. To fully integrate myself into this family. After all, what is a moment of pride compared to a lifetime's inheritance?

Please…” I begged wanting him to do more. My body shook when he increased the pace.I dropped my back to the desk and arched my back.His mouth found my clit and I let out a deep moan. I could feel the pressure building up. “Greg,I'm so…so close.” I whimpered. His movement slowed a bit. “No!” I cried. “Please.” I could feel the smile tugging in his lips as he continued to lick on my clit. “Please…” I begged even more,my voice sounding needy even to my own ears. He increased his pace.Fingering me faster and harder. My toes curled as I felt the pressure about to explode inside of me. “I'm going to cum..” “Then do so,show me how good you can be and cum for me.” Pressure exploded through me,my whole body shaking from it all.I let my head rest on the desk as I tried to catch my breathe. His arms came around me, lifted me up and wrapped me in his arms. “Thank you.” I whispered. He planted a light kiss on my shoulder and just held me. I pulled back and looked him in the eye. “That was my first orgasm.” I announced proudly,warmth filling my heart. He smiled and leaned in.”How about another one.” ******************************************* Sex. That was the only reason Emillia Winslow got married to the Mafia Billionaire, Gregory Densmore. Being deeply religious,she is thrown into a world that contrasts her belief. There is no remorse,no confessions and no forgiveness. Will She manage to bring light into the dark or will the dark engulf her,forcing her to bring out her shadow self.

“I am not your mate, Alpha Janus,” I choke out as he drives me back against the table. His grip tightens. “Then why do you smell like mine?” His voice drops low in my ear, “Why does my wolf chant your name?” The mark on my neck burns, threatening to betray me. My father gave my sister to my fiancé, Alpha Janus, and threw me into a marriage with an old man, so I ran. Only to wake up in a stranger’s arms… marked and mated. Now I’m back in Alpha Janus’ pack as a maid, hiding in plain sight while he hunts for the woman who carries his mark, and my father hunts for me. If either of them finds out who I am, it’s over.

For three years, I played the role of a dutiful wife to my husband, Williams, until I found out I was just a mere substitute for his first love— the woman he truly loved.  When she returned, he threw divorce papers at me as if I meant nothing.  And when I refused to sign them, I was forced to donate my blood to his precious mistress, causing me to lose a child I never even knew I was carrying. Shattered and broken, I walked away with one purpose— avenging the death of my unborn child.  He realised his mistake, but it was too late. I was no longer his substitute, but a future he'll never touch.  “You were right, Williams. I was a substitute you never deserved.” 

My boyfriend's "best female friend" was angry again. Why? Because for our five-year anniversary, he got a gift just for me—and forgot about hers. Simone Baker threw a complete fit, sobbing and making a huge scene. Scott Tanner immediately blocked me and removed me on Instagram, then changed our matching couple profile pictures. "Girls can be so dramatic," he said. "Once I've calmed her down, we'll switch them back." I reminded him, "That makes a hundred times now." He just smiled and gave me a quick kiss. "I know. I'll make it fast this time." That night, Simone posted a status update: [Your effort was acceptable. You get three days of freedom.] Almost immediately, Scott unblocked me. [Okay, babe. We can put our couple pictures back now.] But then a male account—using my half of the matching photo—sent him a friend request, followed by a single question mark. [Since when are couple photos a group project?]

Pia Bellucci descends from the slums in Hughlin. Orphans like her are supposed to spend their lives struggling in the bottom rung of society. They are meant to live in the darkness till they draw their last breaths. But the appearance of Vito Castaldo, the Don of the Castaldo family, has completely rewritten Pia's fate. Thanks to Pia's resilience and talent, she fights against all odds and becomes Vito's personal bodyguard. She takes it upon herself to block all harm coming his way and resolve deadly crises for him. Once, when Pia gets kidnapped by Vito's rivals in his stead and almost dies in that ordeal, Vito confesses his feelings to her after rescuing her. After that, he holds an engagement banquet and slides a diamond ring onto her finger before making his vow. "Once I become the Don of Nework, you shall become the Donna." Pia is grateful to Vito for saving her life while showering her with love and affection. It's only natural that she's willing to sacrifice everything for his sake. From then, she works even harder in striking more dangerous deals and wrapping up the most brutal negotiations on Vito's behalf. She practically puts herself at risk just to get rid of all obstacles in his way until his strongest foes are dead. But when Pia thinks her dream is about to come true, she stumbles upon the cruelest truth. It turns out that she's nothing but a tool for Vito to wield from the start till the end.

I died on my wedding night. Then I woke up—with revenge in my veins and my killer’s uncle in my bed. Betrayed by my husband and murdered by the man I once loved, I get a second chance—reborn one year before my death. This time, I’m done playing nice. I crash my own engagement by announcing an affair with the one man my ex fears: his powerful, brooding billionaire uncle. But what started as a game of revenge spirals into something dangerously real… and I’m carrying his child. Lies. Lust. Loyalty twisted beyond recognition. This time, I’m rewriting the rules—starting with my last name.

Ariana Lubove and Spencer Ulrich have been married for three years. She doesn't hope to win his heart, but she thinks that she's at least special to him. To her devastation, he finds himself a mistress and treats her like she's his treasure. Ariana finally faces reality and gets a divorce. She turns to leave without another look back. Five years later, she shows up with a little boy by her side. Spencer looks at the boy and snorts. "You're a little bastard." The boy gives him an equally icy look. "And you're an old bastard." Five years is enough for Spencer to turn a new leaf and start with a clean slate. He's confident he can win Ariana's heart again. But why the hell does he have rivals in love all over the world?

His fingers slid into my hair, tugging just enough to tilt my head back and expose my throat to him. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Mr. Turner,” I breathed, my voice breaking on a gasp as he found a sensitive spot just beneath my ear and sucked lightly. His growl was low and primal, vibrating through my skin as he pressed his body against mine. I felt every hard line of him, his heat bleeding through my clothes. “Why not?” he murmured, his voice rough with restrained need. I swallowed hard. “You’re… you’re my ex-fiancé’s father.” He paused. For a moment, everything stilled… his breath against my throat, the air between us, even the rain outside seemed to hesitate. Then he lifted his head, and our eyes locked. His were a stormy blue, intense and unwavering. “No one has to know, Catherine,” he said quietly, his voice was like a dark promise wrapped in silk. Then he leaned in with his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I can be your dirty secret.” A shiver ripped down my spine. His words settled deep in my gut, awakening something dangerous. I bit my lip. Every cell in my body screamed for me to walk away but I didn’t. Instead, I gripped the front of his shirt, pulled him down, and kissed him hard. Desperately. He rumbled low in his chest, kissing me back with equal hunger, his hands roaming my body like he already knew every curve. When he finally broke the kiss, I was breathless. Then he dropped to his knees between my legs, with his eyes darker now. “I’m going to show you the world,” he said. “If you’d let me.”