I Want To Prepare Dinner

I stumbled across an encrypted folder on my husband's phone, filled with photos of a little girl I'd never seen before. From newborn to first steps, sorted by month—two full years' worth. But the child in those photos wasn't our daughter. When I confronted him, he said she was a girl named Rosie from the children's home I sponsored. The director sent growth updates, and he'd been saving them for me. I never imagined that my warm, thoughtful husband would use my charity to spin a lie. Because every single photo was geotagged to the apartment complex next to his office. And the children's home was on the other side of the city. I didn't call him out right then. Because I wanted to know whose child she really was.

For the past three months, I've slept only three hours every day just so my team and I can create an app. Thanks to our hard work, the app goes absolutely viral to the point we've garnered over 100 million registered users on the first week of its launch. At the afterparty, my wife, Stacie Woodward, announces that her godbrother, Tory Frost, who's the PR manager, will be the one receiving the million-dollar bonus. She then tosses me a few 50% discount coupons that can be used in shopping malls as my bonus. "You're just a code monkey—why do you need that much money anyway? You can have these discount coupons. Use them on anything you want. At least buy some nice clothes for yourself. Don't go around wearing these rags. You'll just end up humiliating me more." I plead to her in a low tone, "Have you gone crazy, Stacie? My dad needs the money for the best medication in order to save his life! Can you please stop joking around?" But Stacie clings to Toby's arm, looking high and mighty. "Your dad's dying, isn't he? He might as well stop wasting the public resources! I can always choose him a better grave and hold a nice funeral for him when his time comes!" As I look at Stacie's smug face, I just smile at her instead of getting mad at her. She must have forgotten that the app's core algorithm and the user growth model are built using my private, undisclosed technology stack. That means the copyright is mine and has nothing to do with the company. I just smile while nodding at Stacie. That night, I activate the technology stack's self-destruct and migration protocols.

The day before Simon Miles and I were set to get engaged, he told me his true love was his childhood sweetheart. He secretly booked plane tickets for himself and her to travel abroad. For eight years, I would spend one day each year at the Capital Hotel. That was where my engagement to Simon was supposed to happen. Everyone thought I could not move on from him. Eight years later, he returned to the country with his childhood sweetheart for his career. He had learned that a tycoon’s mother, Laurel Windsor, loved dining at the Capital Hotel, so he immediately bought her a gift to curry favor. The moment he handed Laurel the gift, he saw me standing beside her. He frowned and snapped. “It’s been eight years, Clara. Why are you still clinging to me? You knew I was coming back, so you rushed over, didn’t you? “Listen here. I’m back for business. If you ruin this deal for me, I’ll make you pay!” I was baffled. Oh, so he still did not know why I was here. Laurel was my mother-in-law, and it was her birthday today. Every year, I would dine with her at the Capital Hotel for her birthday.

In high school, I had finally worked up the courage to confess my feelings to my longtime crush. The next day, he disappeared from my life without a word. Heartbroken and furious, I moved on and started dating someone else, leaving him behind in my memories. Years passed, and I thought I had buried that part of my life. But ten years later, fate threw us back together—this time, he was my new boss. Not just any boss, but my boss’ boss. I had no idea how to face him, but one thing was clear: resigning suddenly felt like my best option.

Five years ago, Damon Thorne publicly severed the mate bond and personally sent Elara Rivers to prison. On the day of her release, Damon grabbed Elara at the hospital: "Your sister Isabella has been in a car accident and needs a kidney transplant, so give her your kidney." Elara was born with a congenital heart disease, and the kidney donation would have cost her life. She refused, but he used every means to force her. On the day of the surgery, her heart suddenly stopped, and the rescue efforts were ineffective. Reportedly, the man who desperately wished for Elara's death cried at her grave day and night. Later, he saw her again, and she had already married The Alpha King Lucian (also Damon's half-brother), holding a five-year-old child, and had become Lucian's cherished and adored young wife. Damon: "I know I was wrong, please come back to me." Lucian :"Get out of here, she is my one and only Luna."

"My husband sold me like property. But the man who bought me... he wants to make me his queen." For three years, Stacy has endured the unthinkable. Her husband Matt doesn't just neglect her—he sells her. Night after night, he forces her into the beds of wealthy investors and powerful business partners, using her body to seal his deals. An "open marriage," he calls it. But there's nothing open about being used as merchandise. "I was his business asset. His bargaining chip. His whore." At the Sterling Gala, Matt drugs her and delivers her to a room full of predators—five men ready to claim their "payment." But something inside Stacy finally breaks. She fights back. She runs. And crashes straight into the arms of Michael Sotheby—billionaire, corporate king, and the one man even her husband fears. "I didn't save you for free. You owe me a debt. And I intend to collect." Michael's protection comes with a price. What starts as a transaction becomes something far more dangerous. His touch doesn't feel like violation. His kiss awakens desires she thought were dead. For the first time in three years, she feels alive. But when morning comes, terror grips her heart. Michael isn't just any billionaire—he's Matt's biggest rival. And he has no intention of letting her go. Caught between the husband who sells her and the billionaire who wants to own her, Stacy discovers that sometimes the most dangerous man is the only one who can set you free. WARNING: This book contains mature themes including sexual coercion, trafficking within marriage, dubious consent, dark romance elements, and morally complex characters. Intended for adult readers only.

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

Five years ago, my girlfriend, Stacie Garcia, got crippled in an attempt to save me. Out of guilt, I stayed by her side and took on all the hardest grunt work so that I could use all of the money I've earned on her. But when I'm in the middle of cleaning a Porsche's dealership, I witness Stacie flirting with another young man there. To my shock, she's even standing without any problems. Stacie tells the man in a generous manner, "Which car do you have your eye on? I'll buy you any car no matter how expensive it is as long as you like it!"

The Day I Was Reborn, I Rejected the Alpha In my previous life, on my third year as Luna, I took an arrow tipped with wolfsbane meant for my Alpha mate Julian. My wolf was nearly killed, and I lay comatose for three full years. When I finally woke, Julian held my sister Lyra's hand and told me they were in love. He wanted me to step aside. My adoptive mother, Eleanor, pressured me to accept it. I refused. When the three of them closed in on me, I appealed to the Council of Elders. In the end, the Council ruled that Lyra be exiled. She couldn't bear the humiliation, and took her own life. Julian let me keep my title as Luna, but he hated me for the rest of his life. He would look at me with cold, dead eyes. "You should never have woken up. Then I wouldn't have lost Lyra." My adoptive mother blamed me too — for killing my sister, for destroying our family. Seven years later, grief and alcohol had hollowed Julian out completely. On his deathbed, the cold mask slipped. He gripped my hand. "In the next life... will you let me have Lyra?" Something in me went numb. After Julian was gone, the pack fell apart without an Alpha. Every one of them cursed me for being the one still alive. In the fighting that came after, my own pack handed me over to a rival pack. They put a dozen arrows through me. I died alone in the wilderness. When I opened my eyes, I was back — back to the day I first woke up.

I spent five years chasing Tyler Watson, only to get kidnapped right in front of him. He just stood there and watched. As a result, I suffered. After I escaped, he acted all high and mighty and proposed to make up for his tiny bit of guilt. The second we got our marriage certificate, the Simp System’s voice rang in my head. “Congrats, host! You’ve completed your mission.” Just like that, my sanity finally returned. While Tyler waited in a hotel for me to bring him contraceptives, I went live to expose his cheating. For good measure, I even called the anti-vice office to report my dear husband for soliciting prostitutes.