Karma Got Its Kiss For Me

STORY IS CURRENTLY ON HOLD TO ENSURE BEST QUALITY OF CONTENT. “Forgive me Goddess for I have sinned.” “What have you done child?” “I’ve developed an insatiable need.” “What is that need?” “A need for pleasure and lust.” ____________________ Life as a nun always seemed to be the righteous path for Amelia Roseo, unaware, fate had other plans for her. Everything was supposed to change the day she turns 18, that she is yet to meet her true self. Thrown into a world of fleeing and chaos Amelia must adapt and overcome what life had to offer her. Can Amelia identify who her real well-wishers and enemies are before it’s too late? Will she be able to fight her demons to survive and live the battle she was thrown into? Read now to find out.

“Help me fake my death and arrange a completely new identity.” “Donna,” the man was clearly shocked. “Why? The Don dotes on you. The whole of Sicily knows—” “That’s none of your business,” I interrupted him. “I’m leaving in five days.” Walking out of the black market, the LED screen in the square was still showing footage of my lavish wedding with Don Alexander three years ago, a ceremony that cost over $500 million. Everyone thought Don Alexander loved me deeply, and I thought so too. Until this afternoon, on our third wedding anniversary, I returned to Sicily early, hiding in the lounge of my husband—Don Alexander’s—office, wanting to surprise him. Instead, I saw his secretary hiding under his desk. While the underboss Marco was reporting the losses from the dock smuggling operation, Isabella was kneeling between Alexander’s legs, skillfully unbuttoning his trousers. Her head bobbed up and down. After Marco left, Isabella smiled seductively. “Could your Donna serve you like this during a meeting?” Alexander’s voice was filled with desire. His hands kneaded her breasts. “Sophia is too conventional, too boring. You’re much more exciting in bed, you little slut.” I covered my mouth, completely devastated. But when I actually left, the Don, who had found me boring, was the one who completely broke down.

The day before my wedding, I went to our cathedral early to get familiar with the place. Instead, I found my fiancé and my stepsister, Isabella fucking on the altar. Our altar. I caught them. He didn't even apologize and just threw me out into the storm. I collapsed in the pouring rain. That’s when he found me. Alistair, the Vampire Prince. He moved like a god through the storm. He pulled me from the mud, and gave me a palace. He told the world I was his soulmate. The one he’d spent centuries searching for. His one and only. For five years, his devotion made me the envy of the supernatural world. I thought I was the one exception in his eternal life. Until I found his secret room. My fingers brushed against an ancient scroll. The script was written in blood. The first line was her name: Isabella. Beneath it, in Alistair's own hand: “Absolute priority. Above all else.” Underneath was a healer's log I’d never seen before. A vampire's healing log. The date was from the night I found out I was pregnant. The night I was attacked by werewolves. They brought me back to the castle, covered in blood. The healers never came for me. I woke up alone. The baby was gone. Our child. His blood, my blood—gone. And my clothes were soaked in what was left of it. I cleaned every trace of it. When he came home, I broke down in his arms. I never told him. I couldn’t bear for him to feel the pain I felt. Now I understood. That same night, Isabella was also being attacked by werewolves. And Alistair’s order to his council was: “Send every healer. Isabella is the priority.” My heart stopped. Despair was a poison in my veins. “If I was never the one... then you can keep your eternity. I want no part of it.”

Five years after my death, my husband, Lucas Grant, wanted me to take the blame for his lover in a drunk driving incident. He had barged into my house with forged evidence, but realized I was not inside. He had no other choice but to knock on my neighbor’s door. However, my neighbor told him, “Joan? She died a long time ago. “I heard that the family of that case was not happy with the verdict, so they abducted her the day she was released from prison. She was tortured for three days straight!” Lucas did not believe the neighbor. He was furious that I was creating a ridiculous lie just to escape. He yelled angrily at my neighbor. “Don’t think I’ll believe you! Joan must have paid you to lie to me! “Tell her that it’s no use hiding. If she doesn’t contact me in three days, I’ll no longer pay the alimony for that rascal!” However, he did not know that the person that his lover had killed in the drunk driving accident was the very rascal he was referring to.

"Do you feel it coming alive?" he whispered. His hand holding mine on his bulge. "If anyone sees us—" I stuttered. We weren’t alone in the house. "If you agree to be my good little stepsister—they’ll treat you with respect too." His dark eyes held a wicked amusement that sent a shiver down my spine. "I know you had a crush on me." "I—I didn’t know you were my stepbrother," I tried to explain, but he silenced me with a finger to my lips. That touch! That gentle press of dominance. It was dangerous. It was temptation itself. "Then no one has to know our dirty little secret." His voice was a trap, laced with seduction. "Be my stepsister by day… and my whore by night." I had thought I was inching toward freedom. That escape was just within reach. But the noose had been tightening all along. And this time, it wasn’t fate or circumstance pulling it tight. It was the hands of my own stepbrothers. .. Lavender wanted a normal life—one where she was respected for who she was, not judged for being born from rape. But everything changed when she helped a wounded stranger– and unknowingly walked into the world of the mafia. She thought she could escape the ruthless mafia boss she saved—until she found herself in his mansion, introduced as his stepsister. When her mother made her meet her new family, Lavender’s world shattered. How could she tell her mother that her soon-to-be stepbrothers were mafia bosses, who saw her as nothing more than a pawn? Lavender is left with two choices: fight back or submit to her stepbrothers' control. But can she escape the grip of the mafia? But how can one ever escape the mafia?

She woke up in a billionaire's arms in a penthouse with a view of the Seine. She was wearing a ring she didn't remember saying yes i do to When Lana Cruz wakes up after a terrible accident, the only person there is Adrian Black, the powerful CEO who says she is his wife. His touch is familiar, and his voice is strong but all of my memories of him are gone. They look like the perfect couple to everyone but this is the revenge Adrian has been waiting years for. Lana broke his heart once, and now he plans to make her fall in love with him again, only to break her heart when she is most vulnerable. But Paris is a city full of life and danger. Rooftop parties under the sparkling Eiffel Tower, moonlit walks along the Seine, and sparkling galleries set the stage for love, lies, and secrets that could ruin both of them. As they fall in love, the line between revenge and desire gets blurry. Lana and Adrian must choose between letting the past take over their lives or giving in to a love that is strong enough to heal even the worst wounds. A storm of passion, betrayal, and redemption in the middle of modern Paris.

"I am not my sister. And you can LOVE ME OR HATE ME for that, but you don't get to punish me for her sins." Daniel breaks. The wall doesn't just come down. It collapses. --- Aria Blackwood didn't plan to fall in love with her boss. She planned to keep her head down, do her job, and ignore the way Daniel Cole's presence rearranged every room he entered, including the room inside her chest. Daniel Cole didn't plan to feel anything ever again. Not after Vivienne. Not after the betrayal that stripped him of $50,000, a fake pregnancy that never existed, and every reason to trust a woman's smile. He swore on her name. On her bloodline. On every person who carried her last name. He just didn't know he'd already fallen for one. When the truth surfaces at the worst possible moment, mid-engagement, mid-happiness, mid-finally, Daniel must choose between the wound that shaped him and the woman who healed him without even knowing he was bleeding. Love was never supposed to find him again. It sent the wrong sister anyway.

Katherine Nolan, my husband's first love, was drugged while studying abroad. When she returns to the country, she is pregnant, just like me. On the day I suffer a massive hemorrhage during labor, my husband, Gabriel Donovan, shows up with Katherine to force me into a divorce. "Kate comes from a highly educated family, and her reputation means everything. If anyone finds out that she's carrying another man's child, it will destroy her. I have to be the father of her baby. Let's get a divorce," he said. In my previous life, I refused to divorce him and even exposed the truth. Katherine's image as an educated and independent woman collapsed. She became the target of public scorn and accusations of fraud. Heavily pregnant, she went to a bar to drink herself numb, but someone took advantage of her afterward. It led to a miscarriage and massive blood loss. She died despite emergency treatment. Gabriel held a funeral for her and offered me a sincere apology. Three months later, I was hit by a car sent by him and left disabled. He even threw our six-month-old son, Adrian Donovan, into a dog cage and left him to be mauled by wild dogs. Only then did I realize that he had long wanted to kill both me and our son. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the very day he brought Katherine to pressure me into a divorce.

I took my last breath when his hatred for had reached it's peak. I chose to take my own life, when I could no longer bear the wait of his hatred When my ashes was handed to Leo, my mate, he smiled and patted it. He was pleased I had finally died. “Filthy thing. She should’ve died a death more painful than this,” he said as he tipped the urn sending it crashing to the ground. He believed I had killed his first love. Despite all our years together, he was waiting for this moment to get his revenge. The air carried my ashes as he stepped over them and walked away. But not long after he returned in regret begging to have me returned to him.

My wife had called me in the middle of the night with a hint of drunkenness in her voice. She admitted to having too much to drink and asked me to come get her. I hurried to the private club she mentioned, only to find myself having to change into a bathrobe as soon as I got there. Surrounded by a group of wealthy women in their fifties, they playfully flirted and teased me relentlessly. Suddenly, a few of them pounced, pushing me to the ground and demanding I crawl like a dog. Despite the humiliation, my main concern was still my wife's wellbeing. Hours passed before she finally showed up, disheveled, supported by her male assistant, looking at me with a cold smirk. It was then that the truth hit me. This whole situation was a scheme she had orchestrated to please him. My anger rising, I called and spoke through gritted teeth, "Three days. I want every single business under the Spencers wiped out."