Just Saying

“Don’t tell me that meeting the man who slept with me at the whiskey library was all a part of your brilliant plan to Control me, my family, and my father's properties?” she throws the question at me. “It was not all a part of my plan” I try to defend. “If you knew something about the stranger at the whiskey library, why didn't you just tell me?” she asks, looking at me dead in the eyes with her Hazel eyes piercing deep into my soul. “Why did you bind me to an arranged marriage with you and accept my baby as yours when the Queen tried to throw me out as if you were doing me a favour?” she yells. “What was the aim behind your notion of false sacrifice?” she continues with her series of questions. “I know that you may not believe me right now, but I can swear on my life that the whole episode at the whiskey library was not part of the plan,” I try to explain even though I know that I sound really stupid saying that “So there was a plan,” she asks, wearing a smile that is loaded like a gun. “Can you please listen to me,” I plead. “Listen to you?” she scoffs. “Just because you are the billionaire crown prince of Orion you killed my father, then You set me up as the prime suspect in the murder case, blackmailed me to be around you or you exposed my identity as the legitimate daughter of Dylan Grayson and now I am stumbling on the secret that the stranger that I had a one night stand with at the whiskey library was all a part of your brilliant plan to get me entangled with you?” she scoffs in disdain

I loved Alpha Lucien Grey with all my heart. From the moment I first saw him, I was drawn to him. However, I always knew the one Lucien loved was someone else. Her name was Summer White. I thought I’d be like one of those tragic side characters in romance stories—forever on the sidelines, watching the man I loved build a life with another woman. However, everything changed three years ago when Summer ran away on the night of the marking ceremony, saying she wasn’t ready to be claimed. Lucien had to make a decision and announced he would find a new partner. So, I stepped forward. Wearing a dress that didn’t quite fit, my hands trembling, I stood in for Summer. That day, Lucien and I formed a bond as mates. For the past three years, Lucien had treated me with warmth and kindness. He was gentle and thoughtful. He took care of me in every way. However, just over a month ago, Summer came back to our pack. On the night of our anniversary, she got drunk and called Lucien in tears, sobbing that she regretted everything. Lucien’s hands were shaking so hard he almost dropped his phone, but he didn’t hang up. He just stood there, torn. When his eyes met mine, full of confusion and pain, I took his hand—still trembling—and said softly, “Go to her.” The moment he left, I filed the mate-bond termination papers at City Hall, requesting to break the bond. After all, these years of stolen happiness were never really mine to keep. It was time for me to leave, too.

My twin sister, wanting to be with her thug boyfriend, secretly planned to apply for a junior college. When I could not talk her out of it, I told our parents and managed to stop her. However, just a month into the new semester, her thug boyfriend cheated on her. She left a suicide note, blaming it all on the long distance between them. She wrote that if she had gone to that junior college, her boyfriend would never have cheated. Grief‑stricken, my parents turned all their rage on me. "You wretched girl, this is all your fault for meddling! What business was it of yours which school your sister went to? Even if she didn't go to college, we could still support her. We didn't need your big mouth!" "If it weren't for your spiteful tongue, your sister wouldn't be dead!" "We were cursed to have a vicious, unfilial daughter like you!" They locked me in her room, ordering me to repent. Then they took her ashes on a trip, saying they wanted her to see the beautiful mountains and rivers she never got to visit in life. A month later, they returned from their travels to find me long dead, starved to a withered husk in front of my sister's photo. Their eyes held no grief, no guilt, only a faint, scornful curl of the lips. In their eyes, my death was nothing more than justice served. My broken soul saw their icy expressions, and despairing tears burned my eyes. Then my sister's familiar voice rang out again: "What business is it of yours which school I go to? You're just jealous that I have a boyfriend, aren't you?"

The day I decided to donate my body to science, my family gathered around my adopted sister, Hailey, celebrating her acceptance into a cutting-edge experimental treatment program. The one with brain cancer was supposed to be me. But Hailey used my husband Zane's position at the hospital to swap her healthy medical records with my terminal diagnosis, stealing the one chance I had to survive. And the worst part? Everyone cheered her on. The pain became too much. I fought to stay present, only to overhear the nurses whispering, "It's a good thing Dr. Zane secured that spot for Hailey. They said she only had three days left." So, in the last 72 hours of my life, I quietly let go of everything. When I gave Hailey the original manuscripts of my novels I had poured my heart and soul into, my father and brother gave me a satisfied smile. When Zane decided to grant Hailey her dying wish by marrying her, he handed me the divorce papers. I signed without a moment's hesitation. He sighed and praised me for finally being "so reasonable." And when I was the one who coaxed our daughter, Olivia, into calling Hailey "Mommy," Olivia gushed that her new mom was the best. "Don't worry," Zane soothed. "We're just keeping it safe for now. Once she's gone, it'll all come back to you." I gave Hailey everything I had, just like they wanted. So why, when they find out this was all Hailey's vicious lie, do they come crying, saying I'm the one they wanted all along?

It's hard to tell who has your back, from who has it long enough just to stab you in it.... "Why are you making it so difficult?" I screeched on top of my lungs. God, why does he have to make everything so difficult? "I'm your boss and you're responsible to follow my orders. You have no authority to defy me." He snarled, his hands balled into fists. "Are you even listening to your baseless blabbering?" "Shut the up!" He roared with pure antagonism and fisted his hand on the glass painting that hung by the wall. I gasped at the sight of glasses shattered into tiny pieces, droplets of blood oozing down his knuckles. His jaw was clenched as he shot daggers to my eyes, not because of the pain that was inflicted from the quick punch, but the remembrance of my betrayal. ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ Mystery. Romance. Deception. It's a famous saying that, hate is a strong emotion- so is love. You can only hate someone you place in high esteem since you care about what they think. Just when Evelyn Williams thought she could bring some light into her miserable life, destiny played its cruel game again, bringing her back to the place where she started. Five years later, she is forced to work with one and only Xavier Blake Knight, the one who remembers how Evelyn Williams has broken his heart. After what she did to him, would she be able to look into his eyes? Unbearable secrets will be revealed with a mixture of irresistible desires. Desires that Evelyn fears would only deepen her wounds, but somehow heal Xavier's.

I've been in love for six years, but my wedding has been called off 99 times by the man who claims to love me most, the mafia boss, Daniel Reed. The first time is on a private island off the coast of Sorellia. He promises me a secret wedding. But an hour before the ceremony, he gets a call saying that his new assistant, Emily Jennings, has been taken by a rival family. Without a word, he leaves me behind and sails off into the night. The second time, we're standing at the altar, exchanging vows. His underboss then leans in and whispers, "Emily's in trouble." Daniel tears off his boutonniere and walks out without looking back. Emily has been kidnapped again—this time, near the border district. He leads an armed raid that very night while I'm left behind, becoming the laughingstock in the mafia's VIP lounges. No matter when I schedule the wedding, Emily always ends up in danger. And Daniel always runs to her without hesitation. Eventually, I realize I will never win against the reckless Gen Z assistant who constantly drags him into chaos. After the 99th cancellation, I decide to break up with him and disappear from Valemont. I move out overnight, erase every trace of myself, leaving nothing behind. But I never expect him to go completely mad. He shuts down the ports, searches every villa, and unleashes his entire family's intelligence network just to find me. His eyes burn red like a wild animal on the edge of collapse. "Elara," he growls, "just give me one more chance."

Seven years I spent with Jason Shaw, but I never got a ring. Rather, all I received was an invitation to another person's wedding. That day, as a wedding planner, I was at the rehearsal, making last-minute adjustments. Looking up, I saw the man whom I waited every day to reply to my messages, walking down the aisle, arm in arm with another bride. "Her boyfriend had something urgent come up, so I'm filling in for him," he said, standing straight, his tone light, a small smile on his lips. But his eyes couldn't hide the hurt, like a child who lost his favorite toy. As if that wasn't enough, he told me to hand over my wedding plan. He patted me on the shoulder, saying sincerely, "There's no rush for us. We've got plenty of time. I promise I'll give you an even better wedding. Just help me out this time. It's not like I'm not going to marry you." He didn't know that I had revised the wedding plan hundreds of times, even counted and recounted the bouquets seven times. To me, it wasn't mere work—it was a dream I held for five long years. I didn't argue anymore, just quietly stepped aside. Later, I lay alone in a hospital bed, listening to the rain tapping against the window from outside. I counted each drop as the hours slipped through my fingers. Perhaps those who worked so hard to create happiness for others had lost the right to their own happiness.

I'm diagnosed with late-stage cancer after undergoing a pre-employment medical checkup. My husband says the medication for my condition is expensive. He also says it can only relieve my pain, not treat the cause. I only have a year to live. Upon my husband's pleading, I agree to do an IVF. I endure the pain and put myself through torture to leave him with a child. However, I overhear him saying the child growing inside me isn't mine—it's his and his lover's. He's the one who wants me dead!

Once I became pregnant, I was hailed as the most precious woman in the underworld. My husband, the new Don of the Jenkins family, shut down an entire private hospital wing for my check-ups, while my father, the Collins Don, summoned every Michelin-starred chef in New York to the estate, just so I could pick whatever I craved. The baby I carried was destined to be the sole heir of the two most powerful mafia families. But on the day we were to sign the papers securing my child's inheritance, they both vanished. "An urgent family matter came up," my husband, Vincent, said, kissing my forehead. "We can finalize the child's inheritance when we get back. There's no rush." Shortly after they left, I received a link to an anonymous live stream. My father's voice came from the video, colder than I had ever heard it. "You're saying your marriage contract with Evangeline was never valid. Doesn't that make the child a bastard?" Vincent, lounging in a club, blew a smoke ring. Cradled in his arms was my half sister, Sarah. "Evangeline has always had all the love and affection. Her child will want for nothing." "Sarah has been mocked for her status for years. I have to make things right for her, give our child a legitimate name." In that moment, my heart seized, and I could barely breathe. Then my phone vibrated again. It was a text message: "Welcome home to the Gallo family, my queen." "Just give the word, and the child you carry will bear the Gallo name and become the most powerful heir in the American underworld."

"Sex slave? Is that what you thought?" "What else would you have dragged me here for?" I said, my voice trembling. He took a deep breath and looked me over, from head to toe, with an assessing expression that made me shrink back. "Don’t flatter yourself, female. You don’t meet the requirements to be one of my sex slaves." "Oh yeah? And what would those be?" He gave me that same smug, evaluating look again, but this time I puffed out my chest—and he seemed to notice, even if just for a second. "The first is being attractive." "What? Did you just call me ugly?" "Does it matter?" "Of course it matters! First of all, you're wrong! I’m not ugly, and I do meet all the requirements to be a sex slave!" — By the goddess, what was I saying? Marius looked at me, visibly confused, until he asked: "Why does it sound like you’re applying for the position?" Jane is an orphaned, rejected she-wolf who dreams of receiving her wolf and leaving the orphanage behind. One night, when she goes to a party with her friend, she finds herself in danger after realizing there is no party only three wolves with the worst intentions. Everything changes when the feared and cruel Marius, a wolf accused of massacring his own pack in the past, saves her. Or rather kidnaps her. Marius makes it clear: Jane will be his prisoner for one year, until she receives her wolf and can give him what he wants. But how can Jane trust a killer? And what is she supposed to do with the wild attraction they both feel, trapped together in an isolated cabin?