Justice For Trypp

On the day Yara Cullen was released from prison, it was raining. A chilly wind carried the drizzle, striking her as the media swarmed the prison gates. "Ms. Cullen, in the Crestwood Estate sexual assault case, your client lost the lawsuit and took her own life six months ago. Her mother is demanding accountability. Do you have anything to say?” "Ms. Cullen, your attorney's license has been revoked, and your mentor was forced to retire. What are your thoughts on this?" No matter how the reporters pressed, Yara kept her head down and pushed forward, forcing her way through the crowd. A black G-Wagon was parked by the roadside, where Westley Langston leaned against the car, smoking a cigarette. Beside him, Elena Cullen tugged at his arm. He turned, glancing toward the prison gates.

Campus food deliveries vanished so often that no one even commented anymore. Then it happened to me again and again. I never identified the thief, but by New Year's Eve I was finished with being an easy mark. I set out a bowl of soup as bait and soaked it with water wrung from an old bathroom mop. I meant to make whoever stole it regret touching my food. A week later, the police did not come for the thief. They came for me. The counselor slid a penalty notice across his desk—600 dollars for food costs and medical fees, due next week. The person who ate my food had been hospitalized for "poisoning." The school was already discussing a major demerit, the cancellation of my first-class scholarship, and the loss of my needs-based stipend. That stipend was the money keeping my sick mother alive. They planned to pin everything on me, shield the real culprit, and bury me under paperwork. Unfortunately for them, they chose the wrong target. I was the law department's resident argument addict, and I intended to turn their dirty little mediation into a public collapse.

Don't you get a bit annoyed some times when cliched novels, seemingly create characters just to misuse and dump them in the middle of a story? They say novels are an inaccurate of past pieces of history from different alternate universes, well this agent is here to make things right. {Esteemed host the female leads loathing is at maximum. Tread with caution, this eternal being wants those points} 'She really took her damm time~he he just what I've been waiting for, let me give the male lead a peck first" She snickered with a making a joke of her counterparts concerns. {Host!!!} 'Mmmwah' Thud! {She fainted} "En. Such fragile heart." *Shivers {Host is so cruel} 'Now it's his turn~honey' Have you read all the books of your favaorite genres off the internet and need the thrill of face slapping to end the day properly? Then this is for you. Follow, our goddess, Zhi Ruo through worlds with her trusty,crafty system, Timon, to give cheating bastards and white lotuses a taste of their own medicine, only a thousand times more bitter. -----------

Ariah is an aspiring journalist, who dreams to become successful in her chosen field just like her mother. But an unexpected turn of events led her to unravel the mystery that happened 30 years ago, the controversial Hacienda Vergara Massacre. Because of her innate curiosity, she started to solve every piece of the puzzle about the mystery that has been buried a long time ago but unknown to her, what she's about to discover will bring a tremendous onslaught on her and her mother's life. Would she still dare to make things right or would she just let things be buried like they used to be?

My daughter accidentally scratched my husband's young mistress's face with her nails. For that, my husband had her fingers chopped off. Covered in blood, she came home seeking help, only to be assaulted by an intruder. I called my husband, crying, but his mistress's sweet voice answered the phone. "Stop using these lowly tricks to get Jack's attention. All you're doing is making him sick!" I begged my husband to take my call, but all I got in return was a barrage of insults. "Nothing is more important than Yvonne's face! I'm busy taking her to the hospital! I don't have time for your drama!" Later, my daughter's organs were removed by the intruder. Even in death, she was still tightly holding onto the birthday gift she had prepared for her father. My husband, a top lawyer, personally defended the criminal who assaulted our daughter. He let that man walk away scot-free after what he had done. On the day he celebrated his birthday with all our relatives, he finally knew that our daughter had died. He completely lost his mind.

He is the God of Justice. A God of Retribution and Vengeance. And he has waited centuries for blood to awaken him... Bound to him by a pact she doesn’t fully understand, Aliana becomes both his Master and his prisoner. He is ruthless, intoxicating, and impossibly beautiful… but he is no hero. He judges, he condemns, and he kills without hesitation. And now his hunger is fixed on her...

"I want you... right here... right now." I breathed. His lips hovered over mine, his breath mingling with my own as he spoke. "Once I start, there's no turning back." I swallowed hard and nodded. My gaze dropped to his lips, full and tempting. I watched, craving, as his tongue swept across his bottom lip "How could I possibly want you to stop when my body is aching for your touch?" The words slipped before I could stop them. For a second, I thought he would push me away again, but then something in him snapped. His lips inched closer to mine, and his fingers lightly stroked my cleavage. The touch made my breasts push higher against my dress, my nipples tightening, my chest heaving as my heartbeat raced. It was all getting too intense, and I was tempted to run and pretend this never happened. But the ache between my legs was too strong to ignore. I wasn’t about to let this moment slip away. “Kiss me," I whispered, pressing my body closer to his in a slow, seductive tease. “Make me forget him....” A dark and intense forbidden love story about a good girl gone bad, Clairessa Hartwood thought she had it all—until heartbreak drove her to revenge. After catching her boyfriend, Adrian Storm, cheating, she seduces his powerful father, Gabriel Storm, while withholding the truth about her previous relationship with his son. Gabriel finally gives in, and they begin a passionate affair, even as Adrian tries to win Clairessa back. Clairessa wants more from the relationship, but Gabriel, still haunted by past betrayals, refuses to commit and ultimately breaks things off. Clairessa navigates heartbreak, desire, and love, she finds herself trapped in a dangerous love triangle between father and son.

"I need you to smile, darling," Adrian whispers, his fingers digging into Isabella's waist as cameras flash. "Your father's business empire depends on it." The champagne in her glass trembles as Isabella forces herself to play the perfect mafia bride. She hasn't told him about the baby yet. Hasn't mentioned the way his eyes linger on the judge's daughter, Elena. Hasn't revealed that she knows about the poison they've planned for her "tragic accident." But Isabella Romano isn't going down without a fight. "Please," she whispers to Santa Muerte as poison burns through her veins. "Give me a chance to make them pay." Death has a price. Isabella awakens in the body of Valentina Salvatore—wife to Adrian's greatest rival and mother to twin girls who somehow see through her deception. She has 150 days to either claim vengeance or find true love. The clock is ticking, and Nicolas Salvatore, her new "husband," is proving dangerously easy to fall for. "You're not really her, are you?" Nicolas murmurs one night, his fingers tracing her jaw. "My Valentina never looked at me the way you do." But as Isabella navigates the deadly waters of rival crime families, she discovers Valentina had secrets of her own—secrets worth dying for. Now, with her father plotting a takeover, Adrian suspicious of her resurrection, and her borrowed body slowly rejecting her soul, Isabella must choose: the revenge she died for, or the love she never expected to find. In this dangerous game of second chances, some fates are worse than death. And some loves are worth dying for twice.

After a full week of night shifts, I make a fatal mistake—injecting my son, Ricky Lambert, with phenobarbital, mistaking it for an antibiotic. The injection stops his breathing instantly, and the hospital soon declares him brain-dead. My husband, Terence Lambert, completely falls apart when he hears the news. The only thing that calms him is holding his nephew, Ryan Lambert, who looks so much like Ricky. So, I give up my transfer to Harborstone to Wendy Larson, my brother-in-law's wife. I even agree to adopt her son. Because of that mistake, I work hard and endure Terence's coldness day after day without a word of complaint. Ten years later, when Wendy returns home a success, that's when I accidentally overhear her speaking with Terence. "Back then, to help me get residency at Harborstone, you swapped the medicine and killed your own son. Do you really not regret it?" Terence sneers. "Of course not. I promised I'd help you rise above the rest. And I know Rosalie too well. If she knows there is a chance to go back to Harborstone, she'll fight you for it to the bitter end. "I have to use Ricky's death to trap her for good. It also gives me the perfect excuse to make her raise our son, so you can focus on your career without any burden." I can't believe what I'm hearing. I run out the door and accidentally fall into a raging river. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the very day the hospital declares Ricky dead.

For ten years, Autumn Lewis and Julian Carter were childhood sweethearts. After three years of marriage, all she got in return were injuries, neglect from her brothers, and betrayal from her husband. When Autumn found out she had stage-two stomach cancer, something in her finally let go. She picked herself up and rose from an unnoticed employee to a powerhouse in the tech world. As soon as the divorce cooling-off period ended, she tricked Julian into signing the papers and made a clean break. The next time they met, the ever-calculating Julian’s eyes turned red as he tore up the divorce certificate. “Autumn, I was wrong. We’re not getting divorced. If I could give you my stomach, I would—just please don’t leave me.” Her once-proud brothers now pleaded, “Autumn, forgive us. Your sister-in-law is filing for divorce. Could you spare us some money?” Just then, a man stepped out from behind her, lifted his shirt slightly, and sneered. “Autumn, why waste your time on these jerks? Look at me instead.” Indeed, affection that came too late was worth less than dirt. She didn’t care for it anymore.