Just In Case Artinya

When Rachel's father falls ill and a mountain of debt stares her family in the face, she is thrown at her wit's end. To save her father's life, she succumbs to the shocking proposal of her cold, powerful boss, Noah Sinclair. Noah needs a wife to silence his family's demands, while Rachel needs his riches to pay for her father's hospital bills. But the shocking part is: He wants a marriage based on business only-no feelings, no romance, and no expectations.

It was all about a year. Just one simple year. They got married because of his Grandmother's wish. He didn't fall for her in that one year but she did. She didn't expect he would still hold on that contract after being married for a whole year but he did. He terminated the contract after a year and told her that it was over without any regret. He had gifted her divorce papers on their first wedding anniversary. He had expected her to throw a tantrum but too bad cause she didn't. Instead she just packed her bags and left just like he had asked her to. Then all of sudden one year later they met again. But she didn't change like those cliche heroines after divorce. She was the same as she was a year ago. Stupid, clumsy and stubborn. He didn't realise what he lost like those cliche ex husbands when he saw her for the first time after a year. But why did it sting watching her talking to some other men so casually? Why did it sting when she didn't look at him with those puppy lovesick eyes anymore? Why did it sting so much when she treated him like other ordinary people? It shouldn't have right? SLOW UPDATE AND UPDATE 3 DAYS PER WEEK. PLEASE MAKE SURE TO READ THIS AND DON'T COMPLAIN LATER:)

Years ago, Elijah’s world shattered the day his husband, Gabe, vanished without a word. They said it was a plane crash. They said there were no survivors. But lies have long wings and now Gabe is back. Alive. Rich. Powerful. And with no memory of the life he shared with Elijah. When Gabe reappears in the arms of another world, Elijah is torn between rage and relief. His husband doesn’t remember the vows, the late-night laughter, or the broken pieces they were trying to heal together. Worse, someone is trying to erase Gabe’s name from his family’s fortune and Elijah might be the only one who can help him uncover the truth. Bound by a fake marriage that once held real love, the two must pretend for the world while battling ghosts of their past. As secrets unravel and the danger grows, so does the pull between them. But this second chance comes with a price and a past neither of them are ready to face. Was Gabe running from something… or someone? And if Elijah helps him remember, will love bring them home or destroy them both? A dark, emotionally raw MM romance about memory, betrayal, and the painful beauty of second chances. .

"Everything was fine, until it wasn't. And that was because I was carrying a billionaire's baby from a one-night stand. A cold-hearted billionaire with an enormous ego. The question is, will that baby be my escape from my narcissistic parents, or will it bring even more complications, as I strike a deal with a billionaire? "I am your typical billionaire, the kind who walks around with a proud aura. A one-night with a woman brings me a solution to all of my troubles. But the problem was, I couldn't understand if this woman was bringing me another chance at happiness, or she was just karma, here for a payback."

Flinn was never meant to fall for her. The plan was simple: a fake engagement to help him seal a billion-dollar deal and protect Rosemary from the dangerous ex who won't let her breathe. She's his best friend's baby sister. Off-limits. A single mom with fire in her veins and walls around her heart. But from the moment she walks back into his life, everything changes. One kiss turns into a night. One lie turns into longing. And one fake ring sparks something real-raw, messy, and so damn forbidden. Flinn is a billionaire with a bad rep and a closet full of secrets. Rosemary is a survivor, too strong to beg, too broken to trust. But their chemistry? It's explosive. Now lines are blurred. Rules are shattered. Hearts are on the line. And when the truth comes out... it just might burn everything down. Enemies-to-lovers. Fake fiancés. Real heat. One brutal truth: nothing about this was ever pretend.

No momento em que Luana Tavares perdeu o bebê, Henrique Ribeiro estava comemorando o retorno de Bianca Monteiro ao país. Três anos ao lado dele—cuidando, se dedicando, sendo parceira—no fim, pra ele, Luana era só uma empregada e cozinheira dentro de casa. Ela se cansou, perdeu a esperança, e decidiu se divorciar. No círculo deles, todo mundo sabia: Luana era famosa por ser igual chiclete, difícil de desgrudar. — Eu aposto que em um dia a Luana volta correndo. — Um dia? Meio dia já é máximo. — Disse Henrique. Assim que assinou o divórcio, Luana decidiu: nunca mais olhar pra trás. Se jogou na nova vida, correu atrás da carreira deixada de lado, se ocupou em conhecer gente nova. Dia após dia, Henrique já não via nem sombra dela em casa. Quando o desespero bateu, numa conferência, Henrique finalmente a viu—ela estava cercada de gente, diferente de antes. Ele foi direto: — Luana, até quando você vai continuar com essa palhaçada?! Dante Siqueira entrou na frente, empurrou Henrique com frieza: — Não encosta na sua cunhada. Henrique nunca amou Luana. E, quando finalmente aprendeu a amar, ela já não tinha mais espaço pra ele.

I served; I did what I needed to do, but it wasn't good enough. I sat chained in a dark room for nearly 3 hard, painful years, trying my best to keep myself protected and together when all I wanted to do was crumble under the pain and loss of my self-worth and ability to defend myself. There was never an even fight. It was them against me. Tied up. My brother is my life. We are Twins, and when I found out that he had died even though I tried my best to keep him alive and save him, My whole world fell to pieces. I'm a fighter; I don't back down so easily. I fight for what I believe in, but his death brings me to my knees and makes me feel as though I am drowning. His best friend is there to pick me back up. He makes me feel safe and loved, even when I can't love or forgive myself. He shows up even when I don't want him to, and he proves that he is there. Encourages me to take that leap and believe in myself. But can I really do this? Can I live even without my brother here?

Nicolas Navarro me pediu em casamento sessenta e seis vezes em sessenta e seis viagens diferentes. Na sexagésima sétima, meu coração finalmente cedeu. No dia seguinte ao casamento, entreguei a ele sessenta e seis cartões de perdão. Um acordo silencioso: toda vez que ele me irritasse, poderia usar um para ser perdoado. Seis anos se passaram. Toda vez que a amiga de infância dele entrava entre nós, um cartão desaparecia. Quando restavam apenas dois, Nicolas finalmente notou. E era tarde demais para fingir que nada havia mudado.

I was diagnosed with Neurogenic Wolf Spirit Atrophy. In half a month, I would be dead. The day I received the diagnosis, I decided to give up treatment and donate my body to the Central Research Institute after my death. Through the mind link, I reached out to my brother, whom I hadn’t seen in six years, hoping he would help me sign the papers. He sneered and cut off the link without any hesitation. With the Spirit Severance Donation Contract, a formal waiver of my right to have my wolf spirit returned to my pack's sacred grounds after death, I crossed countless territories alone to the high-ranking city where he resided. He had been promoted to commander of the Silverfang Patrol, basking in glory. He casually signed the document without even looking at me, then said with chilling indifference, “Don’t ever come to me again. Given how ungrateful you are, I can't be bothered to give you a proper burial." I nodded lightly. “I understand.” He did not know that the money for his treatments in the past years had come from me. Now, there were only seven days left until my death.

My suitcase, filled with precious and expensive birthday gifts, was mistakenly claimed by another person at the airport. When I opened the one left behind, I found it packed with men’s clothes instead of my belongings. Determined to retrieve what was rightfully mine, I went on a frantic search for the man who had taken my suitcase. When I finally confronted him and politely asked for an exchange, he responded with the gentlest of tones: “Oh, I opened it and realized I’d made a mistake—it’s all women’s items.” I breathed a sigh of relief, ready to thank him and express my gratitude. Then he added casually, “I couldn’t use any of those things, so I sorted them out and gave them to my girlfriend. You’re welcome.” My jaw dropped. I could barely muster a response as I muttered under my breath, “What the hell?”