If He's Invincible Why Can I See Him

Before my wedding to Sophie Bennett, the impoverished student I've been sponsoring for ten years posts a photo on social media. "Successfully moved into the new apartment. Soph prepared such a big, soft bed for me!" In the photo, Zachary Wells lies sprawled on the wedding bed I bought for Sophie and my new home, taking a smug selfie with his hand waving at the camera. He's even wearing my wedding ring on his ring finger. Zachary also comments on his own post, "Just thinking about how I'm the first man to lie on this bed fills me with overwhelming happiness!" I reply with a question mark under his comment. The next second, Sophie's call comes through. "I'm just letting Zach experience the warmth of home. Why are you being so passive-aggressive?" In the background, I hear Zachary softly trying to calm her down. "Soph, he's not worth getting angry over." Hearing that, Sophie laughs and banters with him, then abruptly hangs up on me. The two of us have been together for ten years, from ages 18 to 28, and we've finally made it to our wedding day. But now, I no longer intend to go through with it.

For love, I followed Harrison, the underboss of the Moretti family, from halfway across the world. But for five whole years, my permanent residency application had gone nowhere. Several key steps required Harrison's personal involvement, but he always claimed he was too swamped with family business to find the time. Yet Cathy, my so-called stepsister, who was living on our estate, got her residency in just two short weeks. I only found out through the servants' gossip that Harrison had personally stepped in, pressuring a top immigration lawyer to rush it through. With my hopes completely shattered, I told him I wanted to go home. Harrison, a man who was always so proud, panicked. He pulled me into a fierce embrace, kissing my hair. "Aurora, you're my wife. Getting your permanent residency is just a matter of time." "But Cathy is different. She has no family to protect her. Without legal status, she could be deported at any moment." "Just do it for me. Stay. Okay?" Once again, I gave in to his tender words. Until today. I went to the immigration office alone to check on my file. The clerk stared at the screen, her face a mask of confusion. "Ma'am, the system clearly states that Mr. Harrison Moretti's legal spouse is... a Ms. Cathy." "Did you perhaps fill out your form incorrectly?" My world froze. So, the five years of waiting had all been a lie. I wasn't just denied permanent residency; my very marriage was a fraud. I didn't go back to the estate. I went straight to the airport and flew home. Before I boarded, the last message from him read: "Stop throwing a tantrum. Come home." But Harrison, we didn't have a home anymore.

She married Cassian Rourke for money. She left him for love—the love he never gave her. Five years of a contract marriage. Five years of hoping proximity would turn into something real. But on their anniversary, when Lyra finally gathered the courage to confess her feelings, she overheard him confessing his to someone else. So she signed the divorce papers, packed her bags, and disappeared with the secret growing inside her. Two years later, she has built a new life. A quiet house. A beautiful daughter with platinum blonde hair and slate-blue eyes. Peace. Until she rents out her spare room to a tattooed grad student with a familiar last name. Luca Rourke. Cassian's half-brother. The family black sheep. And the only person standing between Lyra and the custody battle Cassian is threatening the moment he discovers Eleanor exists. His solution? Marriage. A fake one, of course. But the Rourke family doesn't play fair. And Luca's hiding secrets of his own, secrets that could destroy everything Lyra's fought to protect. Sometimes the greatest danger isn't falling for the wrong brother. It's falling for the right one.

The year was 1983. The sun had set. It was dark outside. Only one dim light was in the Foster family’s living room. “Dad, Mom, I’m willing to live abroad with you.” When they heard their daughter’s words through the phone, Philip York and Angela York were moved to tears of excitement.

After she got promoted as the CEO's Secretary she decided to go to a bar to enjoy herself but when she wokes up in the morning she found herself lying beside a naked man, she leaves the man after placing a 5k beside him before going to work but then she was shock when she saw that the CEO of the company is the man she had slept with, the man she had a One night. One Night With Him

On my birthday, Rowan Shore ditches me for the 99th time to run to his suicidal true love. I tell the system, "I'm done with this mission. I've had enough." For years, I have tried every trick in the book, but I can't win Rowan's heart. The system says that if I die in this world, I'll return to my original one. The first time, I slit my wrists in the bathroom. Rowan kicks the door down, sends me to the hospital, and berates me for using self-harm to snare his attention. The second time, I swallow an entire bottle of sleeping pills. He bursts in at the last moment and sobs while holding me. He says he knows he messed up. There's still a third time, a fourth time, and more, right?

I no longer deliver meals to my husband, Zachary Smith—the man who became the factory manager after receiving a scholarship that brought him to the city—since my rebirth. I even make sure to detour using the gate at the factory's north side whenever he uses the southern gate after he finishes his meetings. In my past life, I was fully aware he took me as his wife—a humble country woman—just for the chance to move to the city. Yet, I insisted on becoming his wife, anyway. After all, I was convinced that a person's true affections could be earned and nurtured. Yet, Zachary maintained a constant, formal distance throughout our marriage. He would simply offer me a book the moment I attempted to bridge the gap, saying, "You should study more so that you don't continually attract people's contempt." I got emboldened by the drink as I threw my arms around him, yet he merely accepted the embrace rigidly, whispering, "It's just what married couples do." It wasn't until decades later, as I lay on my deathbed, that I discovered the heartbreaking words in his autobiography. In it, he stated that our entire marriage was like being trapped in a mire and that he never wanted to be with me again if he were to ever be reborn. I felt a searing pain tearing through my heart as I closed my eyes in devastating anguish. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back at the point in time when the gossip about Zachary and Juliana Ziegler, the factory's technician who studied abroad, first began to spread. In this life, I choose not to fight or cause drama. Instead, I am the one who brings up the divorce.

"Let me borrow your husband for one night and I spare your dad's life." Trishia Meyer, the daughter of the Senator said. Arabella Jones was dumbfounded. She had to make a choice. To saved her father's company, Arabella had agreed to marry the evil billionaire, Bill Sky. They were bound to meet again after their coincidental kissed that night. They agreed to sign a non-disclosure contract and they swore not to love each other. Sacrificing herself to be with the domineering cold man and turning a blind eye to his sexual affairs with other women were some of the things she needed to endure everyday. Marriage with no love. Now that she conceived his baby, he wanted it to be aborted instantly. She thought that the baby inside her tummy would bring them closer together but he accused her on deceiving him. He looked at her as a two-timer and the worst gold digger. Arabella Jones then made a promise to herself that she would do everything to live a happy life with her baby away from him. Little did she knew, it's not for her to decide, that if the billionaire's wrath would allow her.

On the morning of her wedding day, Chelsea saw her sister moan under her fiancé's embraces. Later that night after she canceled her wedding, she got drunk and called a night escort service for revenge sex. So she spends the night together under the influence of alcohol. Little did she know that the man she thought was a night escort, turns out to be Liam Shax, the narcissistic CEO! As she feels guilty thinking that she had raped someone, Chelsea is about to jump into the river. "I'll give you a purpose to live! So come down first,” as Liam's voices reach her ears, she turned around. "What purpose?" "To bear my child." ".... euw." -splash!- "Did she just say 'euw' before jumping?" "Yes ... sir. SIR?!" Liam jumps to the river.

To save my husband, I drank until my stomach bled. Despite making it to the hospital, no one would treat me—all because he, a prominent surgeon, forbade anyone from attending to his own wife. In a previous life, he had saved me, a deed that fate cruelly repaid: the same day he saved me, his beloved, Lily Evans, tragically died during surgery. Consumed by regret, he lamented, "If I hadn't saved you, she might still be alive." On my birthday, in a twisted celebration, he intoxicated both me and our daughter. In a horrifying turn, he used his surgical skills to ruthlessly stab us both. As I lay bleeding, I begged for our daughter's life, pleading with him to spare her, his biological child. He coldly justified his brutality by claiming that being tied to me caused him to miss his chance with his true love. Fueled by a desperate need to protect my daughter, I fought him ferociously. He inflicted thirty-eight merciless wounds on me before turning his murderous intent towards our child. As I faced death, my last sight was of him, his decision clear as he once again chose his lost love over his living family.