I Didn T Ask

During a turf war, I took a bullet for Daniel Wilson. When I woke up in the family hospital after three years in a coma, I discovered that Eva, the showgirl I'd saved from a black market auction, had usurped my place in the Wilson family. My husband Daniel, the family's Underboss, saw that I was awake, and his first words to me were: "The entire underworld recognizes Eva as the woman by my side now. Why did you have to wake up at a time like this?" "Alice and I both love her. She's the one who's been by our side these past three years. And you? You've just been a body in a hospital bed, absent from our lives." "We're through, Sarah." Watching the man I once loved so deeply speak such heartless words, I didn't put up a fight. I simply nodded and gave him what he wanted. But he had no idea the Wilson family was about to burn to the ground.

Dad is famous for being a total simp over Mom in the elite society. Naturally, he views Callie Archer, the stepdaughter whom Mom has brought with her, as his own. But Callie is afflicted with a severe case of walking phobia. Her feet couldn't touch the ground at all. Only when she's stepping on my back can she roam around in the house freely. So, whenever Callie looks in a certain direction, Mom will press my head down and force me to crawl toward Callie to serve as her doormat. The doctor issues a warning to my family that my spine is severely contorted. So when Callie wants to admire the flowers in the yard while wearing a pair of spiked shoes again, I can't endure the pain anymore, so I shiver slightly out of instinct. Callie ends up losing her balance and falling to the ground. She bawls like a baby afterward. Mom rushes over immediately before kicking me in the gut, her high heel lodging into my flesh. "It's extremely rare for Callie to be willing to leave the house! Why must you ruin her mood? Can't you just be more understanding and play your role as a doormat for the sake of your sister's illness?" Meanwhile, Dad scoops Callie into his arms, his heart bleeding for her plight. He coaxes her gently, telling her that he'll buy her new dresses later. I can only curl up on the ground while hacking up blood. But Dad just thinks I'm playing the pity card. He commands his men to throw me into the basement. Apparently, I can only be released once I've learned to stay stationary when I'm supporting Callie. As I clutch my broken ribs, I feel my tears flowing down my face as well as the blood from my injuries. I'm sorry, Dad. Next time, I will definitely not move a muscle, just like a corpse.

After the doctor confirmed her pregnancy, the first thing Eliza Lockett did was ask her lawyer to draft a divorce agreement. "Ms. Lockett, once both parties sign, the marriage will automatically dissolve after the 30-day cooling-off period." Eliza's expression did not change. "Can I sign his name for him?" The lawyer hesitated, then quickly shook his head. "No. He must appear in person." "He agrees to the divorce," she said evenly. "He's just busy with work and can't come. If you don't believe me, I'll call him now and let you hear it yourself." She took out her phone and dialed Alban Sidham. "Alban, there's something I need to talk to you about—" He cut her off before she could finish. His voice was cold and edged with impatience. "Didn't I tell you to handle your own affairs? I don't have time for your trivial matters."

Sybil von Rosen was never meant to grow up among humans. Born a Lycan princess through a human surrogate, she was stolen from the castle as an infant by the very woman meant to nurse her, a woman who turned out to be a witch. Hidden beneath a powerful spell that caged her wolf and erased her scent from the supernatural world, Sybil was raised knowing exactly who she was… and exactly what she had been bred for. A womb. A crown. Her bloodline’s legacy. But Sybil was never meant to be a broodmare queen. She grew up human with the strength and senses of a shewolf and the magic of the witches, which got transferred to her while she was still in the womb of her surrogate. Betrayed by her hybrid fiancé, who abandoned her to marry the princess of their kingdom, Sybil made a decision that will shake three kingdoms. She returned. Not for love. Not for duty. For revenge… But the throne comes with chains. Instead of marrying one Alpha, she is bound to four—the Alpha Guardians of Lupenreich. Ruthless. Powerful. Pureblood. Feared across kingdoms. She cannot smell her mates. She is a Lycan princess trapped in a wolfless witch body. While the Alphas believe they're claiming their future Queen, Sybil is already planning something far more dangerous. She will not stand beside a king. She will not be used to breed to secure bloodlines. She certainly will not be ruled. If the kingdom wants a queen… They’re about to kneel to a rebel queen. Sybil von Rosen is not an ordinary Luna. She is the last Lycan heir. The forbidden daughter of witches. The mate of four Alpha Guardians. And she intends to take the throne for herself and will bow to no one.

Naomi Belle was raised in the shadows—an elite assassin whose name alone made the underworld flinch. But after uncovering the truth about her stolen past, and a slight problem, she walks away from blood and darkness to return home… only to discover her parents are alive and she has an overprotective brother who think she’s an angel. Unfortunately, Naomi’s idea of “gentle and well-behaved” involves resisting the urge to snap necks when irritated. Keeping her secret identity hidden is hard enough—until a nosy, sharp-eyed businessman named Stephen Smith literally catches her red-handed. Instead of exposing her, Stephen starts teasing his way into her double life—and her guarded heart. His relentless humor, maddening charm, and inconveniently golden personality chip away at Naomi’s killer instincts, one smirk at a time. But love doesn’t erase danger. The underworld hasn’t forgotten its deadliest recruit, and Naomi’s family and Stephen become perfect leverage. Between keeping her halo straight for her brother and hiding a gun under her cardigan, Naomi will have to decide which identity to protect—and who she’s willing to kill for when both worlds collide.

My mother is gravely ill and needs a million dollars for surgery. I run all over the city, desperately trying to borrow the money. Just when I'm at my breaking point, my childhood friend shows up, holding a check for one million dollars. His condition? He wants to marry me. Everyone's waiting for me to say yes, but I calmly refuse. Because in my last life, even after I married him, my mother still died. Her surgery failed. Later, I accidentally overhear a conversation between him and a doctor. "Christopher, you sabotaged the surgery just to transplant Alice's mom's kidney into Jennifer? Was it worth it? If Alice finds out, you’re done." "I just want Jennifer to live. And honestly, marrying someone like Alice? My life is already over." That's when I realize our entire marriage was nothing but a carefully woven lie. He did it all for the woman he truly loved.

Before my wedding, my vision which I lost after saving Bruce unexpectedly returned. Overjoyed, I hurried to share the wonderful news with him, but as I stepped into the living room, I froze. Bruce and my cousin, Kerry, were in a passionate embrace. "Bruce, the baby is perfectly healthy now. The doctor said we can sleep together again! Why don't we do it right here in the living room? Also, isn't it thrilling to do it here while Nancy is asleep in her room?" "Shut up! Don't joke about my wife like that!" Bruce snapped at her, but his reprimand was accompanied by a kiss. I stood there, watching in shock as their movements grew more intense and their breathing became heavier. Only then did I piece it all together. Their sudden shared enthusiasm for indoor workouts six months ago wasn't about fitness at all. Covering my mouth to stifle a sob, I turned back to my room and shut the door. I decided then and there: Bruce didn't need to know I had recovered. Reaching for my phone, I dialed my mother. "Mom, I'm not marrying Bruce anymore. I'll marry the comatose heir of the Blakes instead. I don't need Bruce in my life."

After my older sister, Cecilia, and I hit adulthood, our parents dropped a bomb: one of us had to run the family business, the other had to marry into the Spencer family in Norwick City. Cecilia, blinded by greed, called dibs on the company without blinking. Problem was, she was all talk. Spent her days jet-setting and partying while the business tanked. Within a year, she'd burned it all to the ground. Me? I got the Spencer name and popped out two boys, locking in my spot as the rich wife. Cecilia couldn't handle it. Jealousy made her snap—she straight-up stabbed me at a family party. Next thing I knew, I was back on the day we had to choose. Cecilia didn't even pause. "I'll marry into the Spencer family. The business can go to Demi." I laughed. My poor, clueless sister—she had no idea she was walking straight into hell.

The day two students got into a dispute, I ran into Morris Freeman, my ex from ten years ago. The boy who had been fighting wiped his tears and called him "Dad". Morris froze when he saw me, then finally remembered what was going on and apologized. "Ms. Langstaff, I'm sorry for causing you trouble." I handled the compensation by the book and wrapped everything up. When it was over, he lagged behind, clearly wanting to say something. "Back then, I remember you didn't want to be a teacher." I gave a faint smile and walked him to the office door. "People change. So do their ideas." Just like my feelings for him. That chapter had been closed a long time ago.

Samira looked into his eyes, trying to figure out if he was joking. Seeing only calmness, she nodded, desperate to get out of the situation she'd found herself in. "Your performance..." "You want me to sleep with you?" she interrupted, unable to believe her ears. He poked her head gently. "Is that what your little mind keeps telling you? I don't hate the idea of making love to you, but I can't do it without your permission. And that doesn't mean I'm willing to let you go." "Then what do you mean?" He tightened his grip on her waist, causing her thighs to grind against his growing arousal. He groaned loudly, his breath ragged as he palmed her ass cheeks. Her short dress was not helping matters. "I don't love wild women in my bed," he said. Samira knew he was lying. He wanted her to act wild so he could keep her forever. An idea popped into her mind, and she didn’t hesitate to put it into action. "How about we confirm your theory of the ideal woman in the room?"