Is It Wrong To Pick Up Dungeon Goddess

I caught my boyfriend cheating. So I went to the one man he feared most—his father. But heartbreak turned into hate. And hate led me straight into Asher’s arms. Now I’m caught in something twisted and wrong… It was meant to hurt him. Still he won’t let me go without a fight. Asher Thompson isn’t just a father. He’s the man behind the mask. A mafian billionaire who hides his criminal empire beneath silk suits and polite smiles. And now, he owns me. I wanted revenge, to make Henry hurt. But each time Asher took me apart with a look. And every time I try to leave, he drags me deeper into his world of secrets and sin. He touches me like he owns me. He looks at me like I was made to be his. But I don’t know what’s worse, the pain Henry caused… Or how much I still feel for him, even while I’m in his father’s bed. And when the truth comes out? Someone’s going to bleed. And I’m not sure I want to survive it. This started with heartbreak. Now it’s war. And I’m the one holding the match.

When the murderer tortures me to death, my criminal investigator dad and chief forensic pathologist mom are cheering at my brother's match. The criminal saws off my tongue. He answers my Dad's call with my finger. Just before the call ends, Dad's cold voice cuts through. "Playing dead, huh? We should never have brought him back." The murderer chuckles mockingly. "Looks like I grabbed the wrong kid. I thought they'd care more about their real son." When Mom and Dad arrive at the crime scene later, they stare at the mutilated body in shock and rage at the murderer's cruelty. But they never realize that the broken, bloodied body is their biological son.

RIEKA She is a naive, chubby, wolfless werewolf, maltreated by her supposed mate to the point where she loses her sanity and womb, her crime was being chubby and less attractive than her peers. GABRIEL He is a handsome, strong willed womanizer, who happens to a hybrid ALPHA prince, the person he loves the most is his kid brother RALPH. He has searched high and low for a mate he could never find. What will happen when he finds out that his beloved brother's ex wife, happens to be his long awaited mate, who was maltreated and is currently mentally unstable? Will he forgive his brother for hurting his mate? or will blood flow?

"Fuck.." I moan as my feverish skin makes me dizzy with lust. [Yes.] "Evet, Mila. You make me want to ravage you when I should be disgusted by the thought of even touching you." He mutters. "But I'm not. Instead, everything about you makes me mad with desire and I can not control it. God's, I tried to but I don't want to anymore." He removes his hand from the wall, wrapping his fingers around my jaw and he forces me to stare up at him. "You've already had a taste of me and one taste is all you get." I swallow loudly, throwing his words back at him. >>> When it comes to my prince charming, my life has been anything but a fairytale. The Esposito family robbed me of all I held dear to my heart. From the depths of my dignity to the depths of my son. I was living in continual terror; my body, as well as my trust and beliefs, were being exploited. Until one fateful day, I gained the strength to flee, dashing into an Irish bar and meeting a Turkish man. I stayed with him for the night before being compelled to return to the house of terrors. After being thrown down a flight of stairs 37 weeks later, I gave birth to my son. I knew who the father was the moment my son's gaze met mine, but I opted to keep it to myself. However, destiny had other plans for me, and I begged my son's biological father for protection as I fled the Italian mafia. We will work together to rescue our son and demolish their network, all while finding love along the way. My name is Mila Starkk, and this is my Screwed Up Love Story.

Maynard Hansen planned a luxury birthday cruise for Darlene Thompson, but the cruise ship capsized when a violent storm swept in without warning. Without hesitation, Maynard gave the last seat on the lifeboat to Darlene. As I struggled in the water, my son, Waldo Hansen—whom I carried for nine months and gave birth to—cried out, "Don't let Mom up! She'll push Ms. Thompson off." Clutching nothing but a broken plank, I somehow made it to shore. By the time I collapsed on the sand, I was frozen, exhausted, and done. I had never felt so alone. Shortly after, I found myself clutching a diagnosis of severe depression in my hand. I was ready to bring this wretched life to a quiet end. But when my husband and son realized I truly didn't want to live anymore, they collapsed into tears. They wrapped their arms around me as they sobbed, "Please don't leave us. We really can't live without you."

Gabriella Halim woke up in a luxurious room she didn’t recognize. When she looked in the mirror, she nearly fainted. Her face was still beautiful, but… more mature. She was no longer the twenty-year-old girl she remembered—she had become a thirty-year-old woman. Even more shocking, she had been married to Adryan Lewis for five years, a young, ambitious, and notoriously cold politician. Gabby immediately realized one thing: her husband hated her. Cold glares, cutting words, and an impenetrable distance left her bewildered. What had happened in the past ten years? Rather than crying or pleading for love, Gabby chose a different path: enjoying the luxury she now had. A grand house, wardrobes full of designer dresses, and an unlimited bank account. Why bother chasing love when life could be this comfortable? But the world of politics was never simple. Public scrutiny, rival political intrigues, and scandalous gossip forced Gabby to take on a role far greater than that of a mere “trophy wife.” And as Adryan began to notice the dramatic changes in Gabby, the question remained: would his hatred persist, or could it transform into something he never expected?

My husband worked overtime in the studio and suffered from an explosion. His body was blown to pieces. When my bestie frantically told me the news, I just nodded calmly. She called and texted me nonstop. She urged me to go to the site to recognize my husband's body. I blacklisted her and bought a ticket to go abroad. In my previous life, when I heard the news, I stopped at nothing and rushed to my husband's studio. However, I only saw my husband's cold ashes. My bestie said that my husband had poured out his troubles to her once. My husband said that I had run up a mountainous debt for gambling. He wanted a divorce, but I threatened him that he would have a sky-high debt if he divorced me. Even my mother cried and accused me of often going to the casino and taking men home at midnight. But none of this was true. I treated my husband very well; just a few days ago, I gave him a million-dollar watch as a gift. And I had never done anything related to gambling. Facing their accusation, I chose to call the police to prove my innocence. However, the police discovered my diamond necklace at the explosion site, where forensic experts also found my fingerprints. I failed to prove my innocence and became the heinous murderer who killed my husband. My mother took me to court for justice and took over my business empire. In jail, I was retaliated and died. When I opened my eyes again, I regained my life on the day when my husband suffered from the explosion.

On the day our company went public, my wife deliberately picked a fight. She accused me of dragging the company down and demanded that I hand over the R&D rights for our new product to her first love. Instead of getting angry, I actually laughed. I even gave up my position and sincerely told her, “R&D is exhausting. Why don’t I just let him be the chief instead?” Everyone around us was stunned. They thought I had finally snapped from the stress. However, no one knew the truth. The final material that made the product actually work was incredibly complex, and I was the only one who knew how to make it. Without me, the product they had spent a whole year developing turned out to be nothing but trash. My wife’s company would have to shoulder all the losses, along with a massive compensation payout on the way.

When I'm seven years old, my dad turns me in to the Court Judgment of the Born Wicked because of my tendency to vomit. If I'm found guilty, my blood ties with my dad will be forcibly severed. Then, I'll be sent to prison. Everyone claims that Dad is just making a fuss over nothing. "Your daughter is still so young, so it's natural for her to fall ill. As a father, you should be more considerate toward her." But when the evidence is shown, everyone clamps up immediately. There was once when Dad drank so much to the point he suffered from gastric bleeding. The business contract that he managed to convince his client to sign was all soiled because I vomited on him as soon as he got home. Thanks to me, the contract was voided. Dad got fired on the spot. During Bryce Fuller, my older brother's birthday, I vomited onto his birthday cake in front of his classmates. Because of that, Bryce was isolated by all of his classmates. He became so depressed that he tried to slit his wrist in an attempt to take his own life. I'll keep vomiting everywhere, be it at the dining table or on my bed. Dad and Bryce have to clean me up more than 30 times every day. They suffer greatly because of me. What angers everyone the most is that after I'm done vomiting, I'll laugh at everyone in a provocative manner. The judge gives his verdict instantly, claiming that I'm wicked by nature. Bryce's eyes redden immediately. As he cries, he tells me that he can't bear to see me leaving him. I never shed any tears, nor do I throw a tantrum. Instead, I accept the judge's verdict calmly, but with a prerequisite condition that the judge finishes watching my memories. The judge is shocked, to say the least. "We'll have to crack your skull open in order to extract your memories. You'll be in a world of pain. Are you sure about that?" I nod in determination. But Bryce, on the other hand, looks alarmed. "I won't agree to that!"

On the day before the Christmas holidays start, my wife, Irene Owens, intends to promote me and give me a raise in order to celebrate my feat of closing a hundred-million-dollar deal. But her assistant, Cody Harrington, purposefully feeds her some cake. Irene, who's known to be a germaphobe, doesn't show any trace of disgust as she subconsciously accepts the spoon, which is tainted with Cody's saliva, into her mouth. The employees begin cheering for them on the spot. Some ask if they are about to get married. Not only does Irene not refute those questions, but she also promotes Cody to a department manager on the spot. When a colleague next to me realizes how silent I've been, he nudges me in the side. "Hey Seb, you're the veteran employee who's stuck by Ms. Owens' side for so long. Why aren't you reacting to the news?" I merely sneer as I toss my share transfer agreement to Cody. "A promotion isn't enough, is it? You can have these shares as your wedding gift."