Kamui Woods Face Novels & Stories

The night my boyfriend and I celebrate our first anniversary, we get into an accident. My soul travels through time and ends up ten years in the future. Here, I see that my boyfriend and I have married and started a family. It's the future I've dreamed of. However, it seems that I'm out of a job, and I've given up on my dream. I struggle to make it through endless days of my boyfriend's ice-cold treatment. Ultimately, I see myself sitting on the edge of a building's roof after falling deep into postpartum depression. When I open my eyes again, I see my boyfriend's panicked face…

At the reunion, someone asked when I was getting married. Grinning, I pulled out the invites. "Mid-October. Be there." Cheers broke out. Everyone peeked at the girl next to me. "You've been with Daphne forever, right? Finally making it official?" Daphne hurled her drink at me. "Ethan Everett, is this your idea of pressuring me into marriage?" The room froze. I wiped my face, cool as ever, and opened the invite in front of her. "Maybe check the name. It doesn't say you're the bride."

How does one woman please two men? Lizzie has to answer when Jordan suddenly springs Jackson on her. His life long best friend.Jackson is a dark, brooding man. When they meet, the sparks fly and burn so hot and unexpectedly that Lizzie is shocked. Jordan was a lot for Lizzie to learn how to handle. But, when she discovers she is supposed to try and take both of them on. She was terrified and overwhelmed,Lizzie flees to a quiet cabin in the woods, where she thinks she is safe enough to come to terms with her new situation. But Jack and Jordan follow her there, unwilling to let her run away. They force her to confront her problems and the terrible secrets she was harboring. Unfortunately, their problems decided to follow them as well. Can the three of them ever get past the troubles they must face? Especially when it's Lizzie's own life on the line?*ADULTS ONLY* *EXPLICIT SCENES* *BDSM* You Are Ours is created by Leann Lane, an eGlobal Creative Publishing Signed Author

In the third year of our marriage, my husband's first love got a divorce. He gave her the forty-five thousand dollars we had saved for a house because she was left with nothing and struggling to make ends meet. I urged him to ask for the money back, but he pointed at my face and angrily shouted, "You used to be so gentle and virtuous—what happened? Why are you so selfish, so shallow now?" "Is forty-five thousand dollars really worth you making a fuss over?" "Chloe is starting over with nothing, raising a child on her own. Don't you feel any sympathy for her?" Fine. He was noble, he was merciful. I did not argue further, because the one who needed money for cancer treatment was him, not me.

For five consecutive years, I secured eighty million in core contracts for the company. Yet my salary remained six thousand. At the annual company gala, I simply told my boss, “I want a raise.” In response, he slapped me across the face three times right in front of the entire company. “Do you think clients come to you? They recognize the company! “Paying you six thousand is already charity, so don’t push your luck!” Everyone in the office watched, laughing at me. I said nothing, only quietly wiping the blood from my lip. The very next day, I took all the client resources and moved to a rival company. Three days later, my former boss broke down over the phone, screaming, “Why?! Why did they all pull out?!”

Clouderton, Carmoria. Three days after we got our marriage certificate, Jason casually dropped that he'd handed the keys to our new place... to his ex, Nina Zeller. I clenched my jaw. "So you just HAD to give our house key to your poor, delicate ex?" He sighed. "She needed surgery. It was urgent. I'll get it back after." I stared at him. That blank, serious face? I actually laughed. I own a ton of properties. Even my managers have to book time to get in. But Jason? First guy with the nerve to sneak his ex into my home.

In my dormitory, there was a poor student. With all the good intentions in the world, my roommates and I were eager to help her, not realizing how much our help would cost. She wasn't impressed by the hairdryer we offered, insisting on borrowing a branded one instead. The skincare products we gave her? They were applied to her feet. And, as if that wasn't enough, she specifically demanded luxury face cream. One day, I lent her my tablet to look up some information, and to my surprise, she secretly opened up my gaming app, spent all the diamonds and reward tickets I had saved for half a year, and left me empty-handed. When I asked her to pay me back, she turned the tables and posted a public message online, accusing me. "I'm just a poor student from the countryside, never played games before. Are the materials in the game really worth this much?" Before I knew it, the comment section was flooded with criticisms of me. In a fit of frustration, I fired back with a post of my own, throwing her into the spotlight. "Well, I suppose you've never tasted the bitterness of being cyberbullied, have you?"

The humiliation clung to my skin like a stain I couldn’t wash away. With trembling hands, I pulled my clothes back on, desperate to leave the room, to put as much distance as I could between me and this hell. But as I reached for the door, Chris’s voice called after me, smug satisfaction lacing his words. “You’re not so bad, Camilla,” he taunted, turning to Tyson. “What do you think, future Alpha? Do you mind if I visit a little more often?” Tyson’s face was a mask of cold fury as he looked at me, his pride and ego burning from the knowledge that his mate was a lowly omega. He stared me down, a sneer twisting his lips as he spoke. “I, Tyson Woods of the Two Moons pack, reject you, Camilla, as my mate.” His words struck me like a blade. “Accept it or don’t. I don’t care.” **** Turning eighteen was supposed to change everything. I should have felt my wolf awaken, should have finally belonged to my pack. Instead, all I got was silence—the same empty, gnawing silence that’s haunted me since the day I realized I’d always be the runt, the omega no one cares about. When I met my mate, I thought it might finally be different. But Tyson Woods, my so-called fated mate, didn’t just reject me—he destroyed me, making it clear I was nothing but a stain on his pride. Running away was my only choice, even if it meant crossing into enemy territory. Now I’m trapped, claimed by Alpha Ryker—a man as cold and unyielding as the forest that swallowed me up. He’s dangerous, feared by every wolf on this side of the border,

"Let me go." Anna tried to get out of Xavier's grip, but he tightened his grip and hid his face in her neck. Anna's eyes widened in shock. His intentions were dangerous. Before she could do anything, he leaned and licks her neck with his hot tongue and start tracing it to her earlobe. Anna pushed herself away from Xavier with full force and slapped him in the face. Xavier’s face suddenly turned red. Till today, nobody dare to slap him, he was Mafia king. He squeezed Anna's hair in his fist and grabbed her jaw. "To this day, no one has dared to deny me and you dared to slap me. Now you will pay for it.” He yelled furiously. "Yes, I raised my hand and I will raise it again. Humans are not beasts but you are a beast and you are not even ashamed of it,” Anna said with a tone full of hatred. "If you talk to me like that in the future, I will kill you and what did you say I am a beast? Why don't I show you to be a beast?" He leaned on her lips again and didn't back down until Anna's lips started bleeding. - This is the story of Mafia King's love that turned into obsession.

Before our wedding, my fiancé, Carlo Vitale—the youngest Don on the East Coast—held a church ceremony with my stepsister. He said, "According to Mafia rules, only the woman who completes the wedding ceremony with me and receives the blessing of all the family is my true wife. "So even if your sister Elena is carrying my child, she's nothing more than a mistress." After the priest's blessing, they exchanged rings. I stood outside the church, watching through a curtain of rain as he kissed another woman. My face was white. I had loved Carlo for twelve years, from the ages of sixteen to twenty-eight. However, he had only ever had my stepsister, Sophia, not me, in his heart. I chose to let him go. Later, I left for Europe. All I left Carlo was a notice of our broken engagement and a parting gift. For some reason, the man who had always treated me with indifference seemed to have aged ten years overnight.