Lightning Jutsu List

Dressed in white, rose in hand and waiting for her husband at the aisle for more than an hour was never the kind of scene Stephanie Clark had ever thought about when fantasising what her dream wedding would be like. Hours passed, and unable to bear the murmurings anymore, she strode out of the wedding hall, and went straight to the groom’s prep room, expecting to find her soon to be husband with probably his groom's men. What she would have never expected was finding him deep inside her stepsister. She’s devastated and humiliated. Burning with the ache of rage, she turned around and grabbed the very first man she saw outside. To add to her list of unexpected situations for the day, the moment she pulled away, she realised the man she kissed was none other than her groom’s elder brother who was rumoured to be callously handsome, ruthless to the core, and worse, incapable of fathering children. She goes to a club to drink her sorrows away, only to end up in Zane's bed. Vengeance meets opportunity, Stephanie Clark and Zane Wright make a deal: he’ll give her everything she needs for revenge, wealth enough to vanish and start over but only if she gives him the one thing he wants most, an heir. Zane doesn't make it easy. He sets down five rules. No affection. No questions. No betrayal. No disobedience. No forgetting or deviating from the aim. It was all supposed to be easy. But when desire burns between them, what happens when one of the rules is broken?

Freya King, the CEO of a luxury jewelry brand, had it all: beauty, brains, and a commanding elegance that left powerful men captivated. But at thirty-one, she was still single, and her father had run out of patience. In a bold and borderline outrageous move, he made a game-changing business decision behind her back, one that involved a certain family friend and fellow empire heir… Kenneth Lee Wright. Kenneth, thirty-five, the handsome but stone-faced tech CEO known for being emotionally unreadable, had his own problem: a long-standing rumor that he didn’t “swing the right way”—a rumor he had never denied, simply because it kept overenthusiastic suitors at bay. When Freya flew across the globe to demand answers, Kenneth calmly offered a deal: “Let’s help each other. You get what you want. I find a wife. Problem solved.” Easier said than done. What began as a pragmatic search for their ideal match turned into a hilarious series of terrible dates, jealous moments, and awkward late-night heart-to-hearts. As sparks started to fly, Freya found herself wondering... What if the perfect person wasn’t on her list… but standing right in front of her? *** This is Book 3 of Love and Legacy in the House of Kings. For the best reading experience, it’s recommended to read Book 2 first. Book 1: Divorced My Cheating Husband, Married A Billionaire Book 2: The Bad Boy Next Room

On my fifth year anniversary, the first two things I receive are two bills for water and electricity. My wife, Whitney Chapman, comes home at a late hour. She's carrying a food container that's filled with food that has gone cold. "Sorry, I was dealing with an extremely difficult client. I can only make it up to you with supper." She puts down the container before walking into the bathroom. While she doesn't reek of alcohol, there's dust coating the hem of her windbreaker. I call Whitney's secretary, only to find out that she has not been to the company today. A second before I end the call, the secretary adds, "By the way, Mr. Spencer, the new warehouse manager, Maxwell Clarke, was also absent from work today." Maxwell Clarke? The illegitimate child who brings nothing but shame to the Spencer family? What a big coincidence… or was it? I quickly contact the property manager of the villa based on the bills I've received. "A father-and-son duo have just moved into the villa last month." The manager then sends the list of inhabitants to me. The name listed is also Maxwell Clarke. This villa happens to be a property my father left for me back when Whitney and I first got married. Since it's too far from the city, I've left it vacant all this time because I wanted to reserve it as a villa meant for vacation purposes. Now, the people I hate are the ones living in that villa.

Fresh out of college, Clara Stewart asked me to take on a $500,000 mortgage for her. When I refused, she turned around and bought an $800,000 villa in full, for another guy. Holding up the property deed, she told me: "Jayden, the truth is, I'm actually rich. I've been pretending to be poor to test you. Unfortunately, you failed. I'm disappointed in you. Let's break up." I simply smiled and walked away without a second thought. The irony? I'm the son of the richest man in the country. I was pretending to be broke, too. Fast forward four years, we met again at the National Wealth Summit. Clara had just barely made it into the top 50 on the list, clinging to the arm of Henry Brown as they entered. She spotted me in simple clothes with no visible brand, holding a child in one arm and the keys to a Porsche Cayenne in the other. Thinking I was someone's driver, she sneered: "Jayden, you really went all out just to see me again? Let's be real, you're just a driver now, and I'm on the wealth list. We live in completely different worlds. Don't waste your time fantasizing." I did not bother replying. Honestly, I was only there because my billionaire dad insisted. I had finally cleared a day to spend with my son and now I had to waste it on that.

"You can't be weak, wife. You now have three husbands to please. Tonight's the night we claim you. You can't let a simple wedding tire you, for our nuptial night holds trials far more demanding." Ezra whispered huskily, tucking my hair behind my ear. -- "Oh god!” I cried. "Not god, baby. We are your demons," Ezra growled, pounding faster. -- "Call my name, Xanthea,” Asher groaned and a tight flutter erupted in my belly. -- "I can't… I can't take this… anymore…" And then he hit a spot, and he kept hitting it again and again with every thrust. Sparks charged throughout my body like the lightning cracking in the stormy sky again and again until it was too much to hold back, too hard to… resist. *** Xanthea Plath, an illegitimate child of the Alpha of Virgo pack, was an omega and omegas weren't allowed to dream, yet she never stopped dreaming. She wanted to be a doctor just like her mother but the luna of the pack, her stepmother would break her physically and mentally and stop at nothing to crush all her dreams. Xanthea had still found a way though all the abuse her steps put her through. But one day her world came crashing down right before her entrance in a medical college when she found out that she was being offered as a bride to the ruthless triplet alphas also known as the demon lords of the Infernal pack of the underworld. Xanthea had heard the horrifying stories of several suitors who had come before her, all of whom had met a gruesome end. *** Dark reverse harem romance with 18+ explicit content. Readers discretion advised.

Ava had her back at Drex, and for the past month, her life had turned from bad to worse. at that moment when she had fallen deeply in love with the ruthless assassin who contributed to making her life miserable, the world began to look beautiful again, she thought things would turn out for the best, only for her to find out that Drex was not protecting her because he loved her. "I hate you with every fiber in me," Ava screamed in tears. Even when she utters those words, her heart still beats for him, She wished he had killed her that night, she wished he had never met him. She wished she had never fallen for him, how can she love someone who wouldn't miss the slightest opportunity to end her life? "if I disappear out of your life, will that make you happy?" Drex asked. "You are a total jerk!" She yell. With rage, Ava stormed toward him and slapped him across his face, she made to slap him again but Drex held her tightly and draw her into his embrace. Her anger dissipated immediately, she melt away in his embrace. She love his smell, his cologne which she was now familiar with give her nothing but comfort. "I love this side of you, so feisty!" he said. ******** Don Drex Mason is well-known to the outer world as a dropped-dead handsome bachelor and a businessman but in the underworld, he was the most feared ruthless mafia assassin. Ava Anderson, a small-time introverted nosy newspaper journalist, the two personalities crossed paths on an unfortunate rainy night, she was his target and a threat to his client, she's to be eliminated at all costs. but their fate was already sealed by lightning which made them share one soul.

When I go home for the holidays, I find out that my dad has installed a facial recognition machine at the front door. "You'll have to pay an entry fee of 50 thousand dollars. Will you be paying by card or payment code?" I thought my dad was joking at first. As I laugh, I attempt to walk through the front door while pushing my luggage forward. But my mom passes me a price list with an icy look. "That'll be 200 dollars for dragging stuff across the floor. You'll also be charged 1,000 dollars per hour for using up the air." I'm stunned by her words. "Mom, stop messing around already!" But when I walk into the house, I realize that the air inside has disappeared. Unable to breathe, my face soon turns bright red out of suffocation as I kneel down on the floor. My mom huffs coldly again. "If you want to live, then pay up!" With great difficulty, I dig out my phone and pay the fees. Once the transaction is done, I can feel air rushing through my nostrils and into my lungs. For a few moments, I pant heavily. As I stare at my cold-looking parents, I finally feel that something is off. So, I scramble up to my feet and rush for the door. But that's when I find out that the front door is already welded shut. There's a payment code pasted on the door as well as a message. "Exit fee. One million dollars."

Ever since we were kids, I'd always known how to make use of my gentle childhood friend for things like sending him on errands, and borrowing his allowance. He never complained. Just silently indulged me. Things continued the same way until the day we got engaged. That's when everything snapped into place. That was the day we both woke up. I was just a throwaway character in a novel. He was the male lead—fated to fall in love and end up with the novel's heroine. I was stunned. Ready to walk away. But he was furious. Jaw clenched, eyes wild. He grabbed my hand and dragged me straight to City Hall. "Screw the novel. Screw the plot. The only thing I know is that I love you, and I want forever with you." After we got married, he treated me like I was made of glass. Gentle. Meticulous. We worked side by side, building a reputation as a power couple in the business world. The events of the novel faded into the background. I fell deeper in love with him. Three years later, the youngest daughter of a real estate tycoon started her internship at our company. That day, there was a fire in the office. In the chaos, the girl stumbled into a shelving unit. It came crashing down, headed straight for my husband. I didn't hesitate. I threw myself in front of him. Pain exploded in my skull. Blood poured down my face. The girl, in her panic, had fallen to the ground, crying out, "Aaron, help me!" My husband's face went pale. His expression—pure terror—as he ran toward her without a second thought. "Grace!" he cried. Lightning split through me. My face drained of color. The heroine in the novel—her name was Grace.

Everyone in New York knew that Don Lorenzo Capone loved his wife dearly. At the height of our love, he shielded me from a bullet that went straight through his chest. The hospital issued eleven critical condition notices. I cried myself hoarse at the door of the emergency room. "Lorenzo, don't you dare die on me, or I'll instantly find a pretty boy to marry and have children with!" He survived the ordeal, and the first thing he did when he opened his eyes was to marry me. After the marriage, he ruled over New York's largest underground empire with an iron fist, but never allowed any woman to get close to him. On our third wedding anniversary, I went to his private dock to give him a surprise. There, I saw him holding a pair of twins, teaching them how to shoot. The man who could kill without batting an eye was looking at the children with eyes full of affection. The children's mother was Elena Tribbiani, the daughter of an arms dealer who was his equal. "Lorenzo, what if Vivian finds out?" Lorenzo dismissed it casually. "A fragile porcelain doll like her is only fit to be displayed in a glass case. Only a she-wolf like you is worthy of bearing my family's cubs." It turned out, what I thought was true love was merely a carefully-woven lie. I did not confront him. Instead, I sent a text message to an FBI special agent. "Agent Smith, I have a list of the arms deal you’re investigating."

My boyfriend belonged to the untouchables among the capital's elite, with a family fortune worth tens of billions. To "test" me, he spent seven years never buying me a single gift, never spending a cent on me. Even a stop at a convenience store for condoms had to be split down the middle. Then, my mother fell critically ill. I borrowed from every friend and relative I could, but I was still two thousand short to cover the surgery fees. No matter how much I pleaded, he refused to lend me the money. I arranged my mother's funeral on my own. When I went back to pack my belongings, I accidentally found a list of gifts he had bought for the young woman next door. A private luxury estate. Designer handbags. Jewelry worth hundreds of millions. There was also a voice chat with his friend. "Caleb, is it true Jessica actually humbled herself and begged you for two thousand?" Caleb Brooks let out a low, amused laugh, his tone lazy and indifferent. "Nevaeh wasn't wrong. Anyone who goes around begging over two thousand — what else is she if not a gold digger? "We've only been together seven years and she's already trying to get money out of me." So that was the truth. Seven years of so-called testing, it seemed, had been sparked by nothing more than a few manipulative words from a young woman next door. However, it no longer mattered. The moment my mother passed away, I had already decided to leave him.