I Like This Mashup Artinya

At the company holiday party raffle, I'd barely stepped on stage when my superior, Victor Grant, shoved a crumpled slip into my hand. "Special prize for our top sales guy. Go on, open it. Let's show everyone." All eyes were on me as I unfolded it. Scrawled across the paper: [VIP janitor status unlocked—every toilet in the company, three days.] The room lost it—laughter everywhere. Victor crossed his arms, grinning. "Fair, right? Everyone knows you climbed the ranks hooking up with rich cougars. Gotta avoid hard feelings for the others, yeah? While the rest of us take a break, you can get busy. You're not gonna back out, are you?" The crowd cracked up. My girlfriend—and CEO—Rachel Sullivan stood off to the side, watching. Didn't say a word. Everyone waited for me to explode. Instead, I just nodded. Next day, over 300 refund requests hit. Cash flow flatlined. Victor and Rachel begged me to talk the buyers down. I shrugged. "Nah. Don't wanna save the company and make my performance too good. That'd just cause more ' hard feelings,' right?"

After my husband, Joseph Adams, hired thugs to smash my taco stand again, I pushed the destroyed remains to his company’s anniversary banquet. Joseph had his arm around his little secretary, Monica Martin, when he announced that she would soon be joining the company’s management team. I pressed the horn and called out, “Tacos for sale to support my husband’s mistress—three thirty a piece!” Amid the stunned and bewildered stares of the crowd, Joseph’s brows twisted into a deep frown.

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.

On the day I was supposed to try on wedding dresses with Charles Jaspier, the mafia leader I had loved for seven years, I walked into the boutique carrying a pregnancy test report—my heart full of hope. Instead, I overheard a conversation that shattered everything. "Registering the marriage with Ellis Olsen was a temporary measure," he said calmly to his closest confidant. "My brother died in a shootout. She's carrying the Jaspier family's only heir. Without a legal status, neither she nor the child would survive in this family." "Everyone would bully them." A cigar rested between his fingers. His voice was cold, edged with resignation. "Zoey Qandor can't have a title—but I can give her everything else. My love. My money. This must never reach her ears." I clenched the pregnancy report, my heart turning to ash. With my best friend's help, I created a new identity—one that ensured Charles would never find me again—and disappeared from his world. If he could not give me and my child a complete family, then this love—built on responsibility and lies—was better cut cleanly, once and for all.

On the day of my wedding gown fitting, a stranger burst into the VIP suite and stabbed me with a knife. “You think you deserve a dress this expensive after stealing someone else’s man?” She tore at the delicate fabric of my skirt. Then, with a twisted smile, she hurled a bottle of acid at me. The blade was buried in my lower abdomen. The pain drove me to my knees. She grabbed my hair and yanked my head up. “Gerald’s my husband! What are you? You’re nothing but a mistress who can’t even be seen with him in public!” Blood dripped down my fingers. That was when it finally sank in. The man I had been with for seven years had been keeping another woman by his side. “What’re you staring at? Even if I kill you, with my husband’s influence, no one will dare touch me!” Staring at her smug face, I pulled out my phone with hands slicked in blood and called my brother. “Matt…” My voice was unnervingly calm. “Come pick me up at the bridal shop. And please inform the Hoover family that the engagement is off.”

At the class reunion, Grace Sullivan grabs me and tears into me with vicious lies. "She's an exiled Rogue who slept her way to the top with the director, Damian Pierce! My father's bed at the clinic? She spread her legs for it!" She slaps me across the face, rallying others to join the beating. Finally, she stomps down hard on my hand, the one gripping the scalpel, crushing the bones. Ethan Carter just stands there watching, cold and unmoved. He doesn't lift a finger to stop her. The pain sends tremors through my entire body, but I scream right back at her. "You're just jealous that I'm the better healer, that Ethan chose me over you, so you made up filthy lies to destroy me! "I'm a healer. Right now, your father is dying, and I'm the one who can save him. You want to stop me? Then get ready to plan his funeral." That's when my father, Damian, storms in and roars the truth for everyone to hear. "She's my daughter! Everything she has, she earned!" With my shattered hand, I push through the pain and charge into the operating room anyway. I'm not just saving a life tonight. I'm making sure the liar and the traitor both pay the price they deserve.

“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?

At the underground auction house, tonight's grand finale was billed as a 'premium wolf pet'. Inside the cage, a male wolf knelt with a bite-prevention muzzle locked around his neck. He was clearly a prisoner, yet his eyes held no trace of submission when he lifted his head. Instead, he looked like he was judging every single person in the room. His gaze cut through the crowd and locked onto me. My heart stuttered as excitement flooded my system. I finally knew what true attraction felt like. A well-dressed man in the front row raised his paddle. "$100 million." Gasps erupted across the venue. It was an astronomical opening bid. I smiled and slowly raised my paddle too. My voice brought the hall to dead silence. "$500 million."

In Reychelle City, a contest was held to crown the most beautiful woman. After my cousin scarred my face, she seized first place with ease. What she never expected was that this year's contest wasn't for fame; it was to select the future wife of the Third Prince, a ruthless, bloodthirsty eunuch. That very afternoon, gifts poured in by the cartload. My betrothed panicked. That night, he tore up our engagement contract and carried my cousin into the bridal chamber. The next day, she trailed her lacquered fingertips across my cheek and sneered, "Alicia, with your ruined face, who would ever want you? Perhaps the beggar at the street corner might take you in." I caught her wrist, let out a cold laugh, and said, "Who told you I would marry a beggar?" Before her stunned eyes, I pushed open my parents' chamber doors. "Mom, since Maggie doesn't wish to be the prince's consort… let me take her place." Three years later, before the eyes of a shocked court, the Third Prince entered the grand hall with me at his side, with two children in tow. No one had foreseen it. This body of mine, blessed with the rarest gift of fertility, was the perfect match for a man believed incapable of siring heirs.

(This story is part of 'I call the alpha daddy' book, but can be read as standalone.) Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional. The pack We all share the same loss, we all know what we want. Fate has been cruel. But now we got a second chance. She'll be ours to love and spoil. We'll make her one of us and god help anyone who'll get in between. The girl No one should feel this loss. 2 years ago I lost everything, 2 years ago I lost me. Now that life is throwing me a second chance that I'm taking it no matter his strange it might be. What happens when their worlds collide. Will they be able to confront all the old and new demons. Can they have their happily ever after. This story contain some daddy kink in it. Apologies for any misspelling and grammar mistakes.