I Like Monday

The night before my wedding, my mom got into a car accident—she needed a blood transfusion, fast. Her blood type was rare. Mine matched. I was pregnant, but I didn't think twice. I donated. While I was bleeding out, losing my baby, my fiancé, Joffrey Habsburg, and his brother—my so-called childhood friend—Mateo, were busy holding Nancy's hand during her cosmetic surgery. I begged Joffrey to save my mom. Only then did he bother to pick up a scalpel. When it was over, he said, "Surgery failed. She's gone." Two days later, I overheard Nancy purring through the door, wrapped around the Habsburg brothers. "Mateo really is a racer—he hit that old hag dead on. And Joffrey? You were amazing too, making sure she didn't survive the surgery. Thanks to you both, I got Lori's blood for my operation."

When Eric Sutton—my charming CEO husband—found out I handed a million-dollar project to his assistant Vivien Cheney, he figured his three months of radio silence had finally broken me. Suddenly, he's all, "Let's go to Iceland for our honeymoon!" Vivien heard and threw a fit. Threatened to quit. Classic. Eric, who treated her like royalty, freaked out. After three days of begging, he bailed on the trip—said it was for "work"—then handed her my ticket. Later, he shrugged it off. "Romance's petty. Work comes first. You're my wife. You get it, right?" Right. I just stared at Vivien's new post: a couples selfie—cheek to cheek, hands shaped like a heart. I didn't say a word. Just nodded. Eric thought I was finally playing the role: calm, supportive, mature. Promised an even better honeymoon when he got back. Too bad I'd already quit. Too bad he'd already signed the divorce papers. We were done.

“Give me your hands,” he ordered, coldly. I froze, watching him loosen his tie as he walked closer. Something about him felt… off. Mean. Distant. My throat went dry, but I gave him my hands anyway. He gripped my wrists—tight enough for my pulse to throb under his fingers. He wrapped the tie around them and pulled, dragging me up the bed like an animal on a leash. My back hit the headboard. Before I could react, he tied the other end of the tie to the frame. Then he reached for the veil on the nightstand. “What are you doing?” I asked, heart racing. He didn’t answer….just placed the veil over my head like I was a doll. “Making sure I don’t see your face and wish it was hers,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt. I blinked. “Hers?” He leaned in. His jaw clenched. “Your twin sister,” he said. “I wanted her. Not you.” His words felt like someone yanked the floor right under me. “I should be with her,” he added cruelly. “Loving her. Worshiping her. Not stuck with a knockoff pretending to be my wife.” I couldn’t breathe. My hands fought the tie, but it was useless. I was trapped, veiled and bound. Lucian didn’t want me. He wanted ‘her’ instead. —------------- Losing her clinic was devastating. Facing eviction was worse. But accepting a mysterious nursing job? That was desperation at its finest. What Scarlett Ashford didn’t expect was that her patient would be her terminally ill twin, the same sister she’d cut ties with. And Lucian Montgomery, her sister’s cold billionaire husband, offered her a proposition far beyond medical care. He wanted her to be his surrogate. Scarlett wonders—what twisted melodrama has she gotten herself into?

When my husband Joshua dragged his student Linda Moore into our apartment, I didn't even blink—I gave up the bed. Last time, it'd been pouring when he showed up with her in the middle of the night. Told me to crash on the floor with my daughter Mia and gave Linda the bed like it was nothing. I lost it. Fought with him, snapped at her. She bolted, slipped into a ditch, and supposedly drowned. Joshua said nothing. Then, one night, with the storm going wild outside, he pried open a manhole and dumped me and Mia in like trash. "Linda's my mentor's daughter. She's dead—how am I supposed to face him? You two can apologize yourselves." We didn't even get to scream before that freezing, disgusting water swallowed us whole. Turns out, Linda faked the whole thing. Just a twisted joke to punish me. Joshua moved her in right after, like nothing happened. Now, thunder cracked again as the door opened—and there he was, Linda right behind him.

Five years ago, I died—my life as Irene Lancaster ended, along with the child in my womb. Pushed off a cliff by the woman who bore the man I once loved. But the true betrayal? He made her do it. To them, I was nothing. A mistake. An obstacle to be removed. But I survived. And now, I’ve returned with a new name, a new face, and the wealth and power of the richest man in the country. I came back for one reason—revenge. Cold. Ruthless. Nothing else mattered. Not even him. But fate has a twisted sense of humor. And the heart I thought had turned to stone... still remembers what it was like to love the one who destroyed it.

It was the day of our wedding trip, and my fiancee only hurried over to the airport at the last minute. Right before we boarded, she got an urgent message from her male secretary. "Sorry, honey. There's a big project that needs my attention. Just showed up. You go ahead without me. I'll catch up once I'm done with work." It was a shame, but work was important. "Yeah, I get it." Then, I tore up the flight ticket after my fiancee was gone. My fiancee talking about a big project when I just bought the whole company hours earlier? Well, I'd like to see who was the idiot who worked around their new boss to talk to someone who did not exist.

They said I was beautiful — but not real. That my smile was perfect — but my past made me broken. I spent years trying to prove I was more than the girl who changed her face to survive the world’s cruelty. I married Julian Vale, believing love would finally see me. I called Serena Blake my sister, trusting her more than my own reflection. And when my world collapsed under secrets, silence, and the weight of never being enough — I disappeared. Then I opened my eyes… Ten years earlier. Before the surgery. Before the vows. Before I forgot who I was beneath the makeup and the mask of confidence. This time, I don’t need to be fixed. This time, I don’t need to be forgiven. I remember every lie. Every betrayal. Every time I silenced my voice to keep the peace. So I’m not here to win back love. I’m not here to punish the past. I’m here to become the woman I was always meant to be — unedited, unafraid, and finally, completely seen. I was more than pretty. This time, I’ll live like I believe it.

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?’.

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.

My mother-in-law, Eleanor, was having a heart attack, and my husband, Ben Dover—a heart surgeon—was the only one who could save her. Did I call him? Nope. I just stood there, watching her gasp like a fish out of water. In my last life, I'd begged Ben to come save her. He brushed me off, accusing me of interrupting his time with his mistress, Ima Schit. No matter how much I pleaded, he wouldn't come. Eleanor had died in the hospital. And when Johnny, my father-in-law, demanded answers, Ben flipped the script, saying I'd never even called. He made Eleanor's death my fault. Johnny, blinded by grief and fury, killed me. But plot twist—I woke up. Right back to the day this circus started.