I Hear The Angels Cry

Warning ⚠️⚠️⚠️ Adult romance (21+) Bijaklah sebelum membacanya, sesuaikan usia kalian! (Squel I Win You) "Tuan Putri," geram Beck seraya memisahkan kedua paha Jessie. Jessie terengah. "Jangan panggil aku seperti itu lagi." Beck melumat bibir Jessie dan tangannya meraba bagian paling sensitif yang Jessie miliki, menggodanya hingga pinggul Jessie meliuk-liuk dan wanita itu mengerang disertai napas memburu. "Lalu seperti apa aku harus memanggilmu?" tanya Beck dengan suara lembut dan bibirnya tersenyum menggoda. Jessie mencengkeram pergelangan tangan Beck dan menatap Beck dengan sendu. "Panggil namaku." 📌Happy reading, pembaca yang manis!

Warning 18+ Judul : QUEEN: I LOVE YOU PAPA Genre : Romantis Dewasa Cerita kedua dari ‘My Sweet Young Husband’ Bijaklah dalam membaca….., terdapat unsur kekerasan dan kaka-kata umpatan kasar dan mungkin juga vulgar serta beberapa adegan khusus kakak-kakak kece di beberapa partnya. Sebelum baca cerita ini sebaiknya baca ‘My Sweet Young Husband’. ********** Alesha Queenara Agustaf harus menerima takdir, berpisah dari keluarga dan mengalami amnesia pasca kecelakaan yang menimpa mobil yang ia tumpangi. Kehidupan Alesha berubah ketika ia menjadi Nabilla Fathiyah Hasanah, dan hidup dalam keluarga yang sangat sederhana. Beruntung bapak angkatnya sangat menyayanginya, namun kasih sayang itu hanya sekejab saja. Bapak angkatnya harus meninggalkannya untuk selama-lamanya setelah mengetahui kelakuan sang ibu. Setelah kepergian bapaknya, Nabilla harus bersabar menghadapi ibu dan kakaknya. Bahkan di saat bunga di pusara sang bapak belum mengering, ibunya tanpa rasa berdosa membawa teman pria ke rumah dan tanpa rasa bersalah kembali mengotori hargadirinya dan keluarga demi nafsu dan segepok rupiah. Penderitaan Nabilla tidak berhenti di situ saja, isak tangis karena perbuatan ibu dan kakak angkatnya yang memperlakukan dirinya tidak manusiawi, siksaan dan dipaksa kerja keras. Padahal kala itu Nabilla hanyalah siswi SMA, jangan lupakan pekerjaan sang ibu sebagai pemuas nafsu pria kurang belaian memaksa Nabilla harus memasang benteng agar tidak terjatuh ke dalam lembah hitam seperti sang kakak. Sayangnya benteng yang sudah dibangun kokoh oleh Nabilla harus dirobohkan paksa oleh sang ibu, yang menjualnya ke pada seorang mucikari dan akan dipekerjakan sebagai pemuas pria kurang belaian. Akankah gadis yang istiqomah dengan jilbabnya itu bakal terjatuh dan menyelami lembah hitam penuh dosa? Atau Nabilla yang sebenarnya merupakan Queen di keluarga Agustaf akan kembali merasakan kebahagiaan dan terbebas dari penderitaan sesuai doa yang selalu ia panjatkan dalam setiap sujudnya? Dan jangan lupakan kisah cinta Nabilla yang tumbuh subur kepada seseorang yang tidak semestinya ia cintai ‘kira-kira siapa ya?’.

Separated by fate, haunted by the past– that's how they live. Until they met again; they built hatred, showed agony, betrayed friends, wanted to be loved, and learned how to sacrifice one's happiness. Remember those nights that I've been disturbing you, it's because I can't say what I need to say. Remember the time that I didn't disturb you; I'd been holding on so much, hoping that you'd be the one to call me first– and you did. Every time I hurt your feelings, I'm hurting too. I– I just don't know how to tell you the exact words, so I keep on annoying you. I'm sorry for all the troubles that I have caused– "I know," I said, and I hugged him. I can sense the same pain as what he is in my dream. Confessing is not bad. I'm just overwhelmed because I feel the same way. "I like you too, Alex. I don't know how, I don't know why but that's how I felt. I hate you harassing and annoying me but I missed it when you don't!" I smiled. Their fate is twisted.

Entering a one-sided love isn't easy, especially if the relationship you have is only for a business. "Why do you have to be alive?" My lips loosened up as I sensed the bitterness in his voice. It is as if he hates my existence so much that he has to do something for me to be gone already. "Why do you even need to be existed in this fucking world if you're just going to ruin my life!" Ciara Hilvano is an innocent and martyr wife who always gets violated by her husband and makes her feel that she's an unwanted wife. This guy really doesn't have any idea that the girl he was hurting and almost killed everyday was secretly suffering from the cancer in heart. The time came when Ciara's life was in big trouble. She almost died because someone tried to end her life. What if Ciara can no longer cope with the challenges and trials in her life? What if she just let her own death fetch her? Will Tyron regret all the things he did to Ciara? What if she dies? Will he cry?

That night, I got off work early and brought home some late-night snacks. When I opened the door, I saw a pair of high heels carelessly tossed in the entryway and Gregory’s blazer thrown over the couch. His heavy breathing and the woman’s moans could be heard through the gap between the door and its frame. I was all too familiar with this sight. This time, I did not storm out like I used to. Instead, I sat quietly at the dining table and finished my cold pizza.

Today was like the day I met him: Me, riding a bicycle and him, walking down the pavement. I grab the handle of the bicycle and watch him as he make his way towards me. I do not know why I feel nervous. A trickle of sweat drip on the side of my face, my heart beat fast and I could hardly breathe. He was meters away, until it grow shorter to a foot and then bam, he bumped into me and we fall down, him on top of me. This felt like a deja vù, like it was our very first encounter. We scurried to get up but ended up bumping our heads together. I glared at him as he got up, He didn't even offer me a hand. He didn’t even give me a second glance. He just passed by me. Not noticing me. Not even looking at me. I let go of the bicycle and turn to face him. I remove the helmet that I was wearing and grip it tightly before screaming, “YAH! My hands curled into a fist and before I know it, the helmet I was holding was already flying towards him.I raise my hand as if to save him but it collided on his head right before I could even react. It sounded a hollow thump and a pronounced groan. His hands made his way to the back of his head as he turn and face me. With those eyes that seem like it was murdering me, he chase me off and I hastily took my bicycle and ran. I couldn’t help but feel happy instead of guilty as he ran after me. This was like before. This was like that summer, that summer I met him.

I married someone two years ago. From then on, I lived a happy life. Thankfully, I did not have to deal with a mother-in-law and did not have to work. I even got two hundred thousand dollars from my husband every month as pocket money. Even my best friends lived the high life because of me. But today, right after I got my allowance, I got a call from the police station. They told me to pick my husband up from there.

I stared at the Vercetti marriage contract my father pushed across the table. Without hesitation, I wrote my half-sister’s name, Demi, and slid it back. My father froze. Then his eyes lit up with ridiculous excitement, like he’d just won the lottery. "How can you give such a perfect chance to your sister?" Last life, my marriage was a joke for everyone around me. I was the red-haired, untamed little witch who dared to climb into the orbit of Cassian Vercetti, heir and leader of the old-blood Vercetti crime family. I was never perfect nor obedient. He loved goddess gowns. I wore mini skirts and danced on tables. He demanded missionary, traditional, orderly intimacy. I wanted to climb on top, ride him, lose myself completely. At a gala, society wives laughing at my hair, my dress, my “wildness.” I thought he would at least pretend to defend me. He didn’t. “Forgive her. She’s not…properly trained.” Trained. Like a dog. I spent my entire last life suffocating under his rules, bending myself bloody to fit the shape he wanted, until the night our house caught fire. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment I learned of the arranged marriage. I looked at the contract in front of me. This time? I think the nightclub boys suits me better. But the moment Cassian realized the bride wasn’t me, he shattered every rule he’d ever lived by.

After getting fired from my company, I returned to the countryside, spending my days playing rummy with my grandmother, but my entire family went insane, searching for me everywhere. It was because my younger sister, the family's prodigy jewelry designer, couldn't come up with a single design after I left. In my previous life, at the National Jewelry Design Competition, she managed to produce designs identical to mine before I even finished mine. Everyone assumed I had copied her work. Even my own family testified in her favor. The company accused me of misconduct and plagiarism, claiming my actions had tarnished their reputation. I was fired on the spot and ordered to pay a huge fine. My family, seeing me as nothing but a burden, threw me out of the house. Crushed by the weight of family betrayal and public judgment, I fell into depression, only to be killed on the street by one of my sister's obsessive fans. As my consciousness faded, I couldn't understand why my sister managed to create the exact same design before I did. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I just signed up for the National Jewelry Design Competition.

A deal between families forced my Fiancé Marco Corvini to marry me. My parents were dead. His obsession was Isabella Falcone, the princess of our rivals. In the end, Marco devoured my family’s empire and threw me to the wolves. He paraded Isabella on his arm like a prize he’d won. Twenty years later, I was on my deathbed. My own son—our son—held the poison. He said I was useless, that his father needed the Falcone family’s power. Then I opened my eyes. I was back. Back on the day of my blood oath. This time, to save my family, I didn’t sign my name on the pact. I signed hers. Isabella Falcone’s. As for me? I took the fortune my parents left me and disappeared. This time, I wouldn’t be the fool bleeding for a man who was never mine.