Life Never Gave Us Lemons

From a campus romance to marriage, Dominic Fleming had always believed he led a perfect life. His wife, Isabella Sinclair, was dazzlingly beautiful. Their daughter, Lilith, was sweet and obedient. Dominic sometimes told himself he must have been a saint in a past life to deserve such happiness. Everything began to change the moment Isabella's so-called "sworn brother," Alexander Grant, entered their lives. Alex's name appeared more and more often, and it crept into every corner of their marriage. For Lilith's sake, Dominic endured the strain again and again until the day of the accident. As he lay on the operating table with his life hanging by a thread, Isabella was not at his side—she was with Alexander instead. That was the moment Dominic's heart finally turned cold. So why did Isabella regret it? She knelt with Alexander, who likewise barely clung to life, and wept as she begged Dominic for forgiveness. "Dom, I know I was wrong. Let's get married again. I will make him kneel and beg you for forgiveness," Isabella said. "Scram," Dominic replied. Isabella nodded eagerly. "Fine. I will throw him out right now!" "Get the fuck out too!" Dominic barked.

I have been bound to Ryan Hardin for nine years. He is pureblood, the Alpha of Silverfang Pack. And I… I was chosen as nothing more than a “temporary Luna,” a political pawn to steady the pack’s power. In those nine years, he betrayed me countless times. The first time, on my birthday, he announced that the celebration belonged to another she-wolf he had just met. The second time, I brewed medicine for his injuries, only to be accused by the Elders of bewitching the Alpha. He didn’t defend me—instead, he ordered me to be whipped in front of the entire pack. The third time, I was three months pregnant. He stood there, watching as his childhood sweetheart pushed me down the stone steps. I lost our pup that day. Nine years. Three thousand two hundred nights. I endured his indifference, his humiliation, his contempt. Last night, at the Silverfang Pack’s full-moon feast, he openly entwined his hand with a young Omega’s while I sat abandoned at the far end of the Alpha’s table. Every gaze cut into me—wolves whispering, mocking, savoring the spectacle. It was his 200th betrayal. When the feast ended, Ryan didn’t even look at me. His words were sharper than fangs: “Don’t forget, your Luna title is only temporary.” At dawn, he descended the Alpha’s staircase, his voice cold and commanding as if I were a servant: “Prepare the council’s tea. Now.” I met his gaze without flinching, my voice steady, stripped of all submission. “I’m sorry, Alpha. That is no longer my duty.” He seems to forget—we were never bound by a mark. Ours was an agreement, nothing more. And today marks the third-to-last day before that agreement ends. I gathered the Luna emblem, the wedding ring, and our only wedding photo—and burned them all. In three days, I’ll leave this pack. I will return to the secluded Herbal Academy, reclaim my research. And this time, when I walk away, I will never return.

The young, handsome, and famous CEO is interested in having a mistress to fulfill his biological desires. One month of relationship becomes a long period of time because the man doesn't want to let go of his mistress. The man was already addicted to the body of his mistress. Maybe because of love or obsession, nothing is certain. Despite the fact that the mistress had a daughter, the man still wouldn't let her go.

On the third day after my death, Eliza Sutton received the call to claim my body. She was resting in another man's arms. She said nonchalantly, "He's dead, huh? Just cremate it and call me afterward." My body was fed to the flames and reduced to ashes. When the staff were done, they contacted Eliza again. Irritation flashed in her eyes as she snapped, "I heard you. I'm on my way."

My husband was ruled by his obsessive-compulsive disorder, enforcing rigid schedules that governed our household. On our daughter's birthday, he and his assistant showed up late. The girl, who mirrored her father's need for order, wasn't upset. She just smiled and invited them to cut her cake. My heart shattered as I watched their cream-covered faces and joyful photos. The next day, I handed him the divorce agreement, confusing him. "Just because Edith didn't cut the cake with you?" "Yes."

“Get away from me,” I hissed, gripping the knife tighter. His gaze flicked down to the blade, then back to me, a slow, amused smile curving his lips. “A knife?” he said softly, tilting his head. “Are you perhaps flirting with me?” I gritted my teeth. The asshole was enjoying this — every fucking second of it. ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ When Leah got home early from work, she was hoping for one thing — to fix what was left of her relationship with Daniel. Instead, she walked in on him in the arms of another woman. Heartbroken and humiliated, she stormed out, blind with tears… and straight into the path of an oncoming car. But death wasn’t the end for Leah. No! Death was actually the beginning.

Untold Series #1 --- When I opened my eyes, I was completely in a different world. This isn't the library, this is some sort of a kingdom! "This is just a fictional story... How can I be here...?" A story that's a complete mystery... "To return to my world, I must find who's the culprit behind King Dione's death." A story that needs a plan to survive on her fate... "But the prince must die at the end of the story..." But what if her fate is to kill the prince? Will she follow the script or scheduled event so as not to disrupt the flow of the story? Or... "W-why does it have to be me...? This is so complicated!" Will she change it and make her ending? "The prince must fall for you, remember that. Once the prince fall for you, use that as an advantage, you must kill him, that's the only thing we can do after all they did to our family" "You are our only hope, Abigail"

Lisha is a young woman trapped in a marriage arranged by her father, Mr Wellis, who views her union as a business transaction rather than an act of love. Despite pleading not to marry, her wishes are ignored. On her wedding day, Lisha runs away in search of freedom and falls in love with Dave, a bakery owner and the son of her family’s maid. Although they come from different social backgrounds, their love grows strong, and Lisha sacrifices her wealth to marry him. However, on the night of the wedding, Lisha makes a blood oath under a sacred tree believed to grant desires of the flesh. Instead of bringing happiness, the oath becomes her downfall, trapping her in spiritual bondage. As her marriage begins to suffocate her, Lisha once again longs for freedom. She seeks help from a spiritual healer, who warns her that the oath cannot be undone. Desperate to escape the marriage and the curse, Lisha considers killing Dave as the only way to break free. Dave eventually finds out about Lisha’s plan. This leads him to strike before Lisha stokes him. Both husband and wife plot death against each other however will this bring doom to their marriage or will they choose to rekindle their love?

Lake is the new girl in town, she meets the quiet boy. A typical love story. Except she had friends in her mind that she talks to, and he isn’t quite who he says he is.

At the party for our first wedding anniversary, I hit the floor—face-first on a red carpet, gasping like a fish out of water. Carlo Pipino, my husband, had his arm draped around Gianna Verde, his childhood flame, sipping champagne and laughing. Gianna knew I was allergic to nuts. So, obviously, she bathed everything in hazelnut dressing. One bite and boom—my throat locked, my lungs lit up, and hives popped like confetti. I reached for my allergy meds—came up with a fistful of melted M&Ms instead. Gianna laughed when she saw my face. "Surprise! Carlo swapped your meds. Seriously, Siena, one nut? Dramatic much?" I slid off my chair, wheezing, while the crowd placed bets on how long my "performance" would last. "Carlo... my meds..." I croaked. "Please. I'm gonna die." He sighed, annoyed. "God, you're so dramatic. Why do women always play dead for attention? You know I love you. Just stop this show already." Right then, my heart shattered faster than my lungs could. I stopped begging. Hit the distress signal. Called my real family.