I Said Yes

Whenever Rachel Cooper loses it, I know I'm about to get divorced again. I close my eyes. "We are divorcing for the ninth time." Marcus Miller massages his temples and says regretfully, "Vivian, Barry died all of a sudden, leaving his wife and her unborn baby behind. I can't ignore them. Relax. Once the baby's born, we'll remarry. We won't separate ever again!" I remain silent. I already heard this promise eight times before. Barry Miller's sudden death is the reason for Rachel's breakdown. It also caused Marcus and me to divorce for the first time. Back then, Rachel was already pregnant, prompting Marcus to divorce me. He will remarry me once he has comforted her. Over the past nine months, we have married and divorced eight times. Everyone mocks me by calling me the Eight-Ring Wonder. I also find it ridiculous. After I accept the divorce certificate, one of the court staff secretly asks me, "When are you getting married again?" I answer calmly, "There's no next time."

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.

My fiancee, Isabelle Bailey, engages in a passionate kiss with her stage partner, Shawn Sanders, in a theater play. While the audience is wholly touched by the romance depicted by the main characters of the play, I know for a fact that the actual script doesn't feature the kissing scene at all. Guilt flickers across Isabelle's face at my confrontation. But she argues, "We were just acting! Are you saying that I can't act out romance scenes anymore?" I no longer demand answers from Isabelle like a hysterical fool. Instead, I give the roses that are cultivated from a new breed to the background actors. After leaving the afterparty, I call my mentor, Patrick White. "Professor, I'm willing to travel to the northwest to plant roses there."

As human fertility rates kept falling, the government created a matching system between humans and beasts. That was how I became engaged to the Blackwood brothers—two wolf beasts who never wanted me. For a year, I made coffee for both of them every morning.The older brother, Adrian, kept his distance, but he always took the mug and thanked me quietly. The younger one, Kieran, was all temper and sharp teeth. He snapped at me, broke the mug, and acted like I was a nuisance. I told myself this was fair. If I treated them the same, maybe one day this arranged bond would feel like home. Then my best friend saw it and asked, “Have you ever thought that treating them equally might be unfair to the one who’s actually kind to you?” I thought about that all day. Then one morning, I walked out of the kitchen carrying only one cup.

"Keep this ring as a promise that I will marry you when all of this is over." Isla Rae de Catalina is living the life. Good career, loving and supportive family and friends. She was everyone's favorite until she met Kade Edward Doyle, the man who has been unknown to her until he sang at one of her runway shows. How would the two live their love?

The 99th time Owen Anderson slides a ring onto my finger, his adopted sister, Monica Morgan, calls again. And just like that, for the 99th time, he ditches me at the altar to be with her, who's having another depressive episode. I'm fed up. I yell after him as he walks away, "Go ahead! Walk out on me, and I swear I'll marry someone else!" He doesn't even flinch. Instead, he snaps, "Can you stop being so unreasonable? We can get married anytime, but Monica's the only sister I've got." Then, he turns and walks away, leaving me standing there like a complete fool. What he doesn't realize is that this time, I mean it. Later, when he gets down on one knee for the 100th time, his older brother, Chris, slips an arm around my waist and says, "Sorry, Owen. She's your sister-in-law now."

He fell hard for her but she fell harder. Homeless, heartbroken and rejected by her own family, Claire Jones, the ignored and hated daughter of a rich man never imagined that her life would change forever when she met her ray of light in the darkness of midnight,  Tristan Pierce.   “You have this chance to get back what you have lost, Miss Jones. You have my words.” Tristan said to Claire. She stared at him for a moment, he looked serious. “And why do you want to help me, Mr. Pierce? What will you achieve?” She couldn’t help but asked him with narrowing gaze. “I am not helping you in free, Miss Jones. I want a woman to as my son’s mother. He never asks for anything and this is the first time he wished for something and I can’t deny my only child's wish.” He said. “What do you mean, Mr. Pierce?” Her voice wavered as she anticipated his next words. “Marry me, Miss Jones.”

“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?

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!

On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, all three of my fiancés showed up with the worst reports from their family-run businesses. My father had declared that I would marry the one who could bring the greatest benefit to our family. However, all three of them had already fallen for a penniless scholarship girl named Amelia Jones, and none of them wanted me. In my previous life, I kept them close, mentored them, and poured my resources into helping them rise. By the time they had each become powerful men in my family, they repaid me by framing my father, getting him arrested, and making him age more than 10 years overnight. He was dragged to prison. Me? They hired a crew of street thugs to brutalize me, leaving me to die while my private photos spread across the internet. As life slipped away, I heard their sneering voices: "Did you really think we ever liked you? Everything we did was for Amelia." "If you hadn't chained us to your side, we'd have married her long ago, we'd have a house full of kids by now!" "You and your father ruined her future. She couldn't afford college because of you. She had no choice but to jump!" Then I opened my eyes: reborn on the very day of my coming-of-age ceremony. I pulled my father aside, looked him in the eye, and said, "I'm an adult now. Throw them out. Strip them of every business and every asset we gave them." "I'm not choosing any of them. I chose Bruce Sullivan, the Don of the Sullivan family."