Lingered Antonyms

"Hi there, I'd like to emigrate." Christina stood at the counter and handed over the neatly prepared documents to the clerk on the other side of the glass. The clerk quickly stamped each page. The red ink spread like tiny ripples on still water. Then, without looking up, he pulled out another form and passed it back to her. "Ma'am, your paperwork will be processed in fifteen days." Christina nodded, turned on her heel, and headed for the exit. But before she could step outside, whispers trailed after her. "Did I see that right? Mrs. Waldorf is applying for emigration? Did she have a squabble with Mr. Waldorf?" "Even if they argued, would it go this far? Mr. Waldorf practically worships her. What could possibly make her leave so decisively?" "Exactly. Five years ago, their wedding was the event of the century. Even someone like me, who barely goes online, heard about it. And three years ago, after her car accident, the blood bank ran out of stock. Mr. Waldorf ignored everyone's objections and nearly drained himself to save her. Then, just last year, when she disappeared for an hour, he mobilized every media outlet worldwide to find her. Now she's leaving without a word—won't that drive him insane?" The murmurs swirled and lingered, but Christina only smiled faintly. Her expression was calm, but her eyes darkened with a bitterness that deepened with every step. Yes, she thought. Everyone knew just how much Lucien Waldorf loved her.

This book captures tyranny and the quest for power in western African history, in the age of war, magic and cruelty, "Adesuna" became the King of "Odudu," a kingdom located in west Africa; the foundation of "Odudu" was laid at the expense of the blood of Warriors, "Odudu" Was one of the most powerful kingdoms in the western region of Africa, "Adesuna" king of "Odudu" was the only son of Adeshina, a Yoro by tribe, he was a valiant fighter from his youth, who latter became a mighty King, he became a sorcerer when human strength couldn't face the test of time, it was an age when men fought to own anything, warriors fought for lands as well as kings, every king was a warrior-king as well. The language of this time was the language of fight, a language that is not taught by men but experienced on the battle field, men even fought with all brutality to get married even within their own kingdoms and among their own people, a time when possessions were measured by strength, the more powerful you are, the more things you were liable to acquire. Kingdoms fought for power, dominance, fame, influence and survival. The weak lived under the mercy of the strong, warriors fought to both acquire and secure what they had already accumulated, the only route to peace was war: deadly wars of bows and strings, arrows and archers, every man's soul lingered on his ability to make use of the sword. Blood bath was a daily routine, the weak were slaves to the strong, and the bravest of men were the fortresses of every kingdom. Adesuna was the fortress of the Odudu kingdom, through his bravery, he became an historic figure.

His face said it all—the lone scar running down his cheek, a jagged reminder of a past shrouded in blood and violence. His cold, calculating eyes never left me, watching from the window across the street, tracking my every movement like I was nothing more than prey. He was bad news, the kind of danger that should have sent me running. But there was something about him, something dark, that pulled me in—like a moth drawn to a flame. Faith had no idea what she was getting herself into when she first crossed his path. The warnings were clear, the whispers of a bloodthirsty secret that was supposed to be a myth—until she met him. Now, as she feels the grip of his obsession tighten around her, she can’t escape. He’s not just watching her; he’s consumed by her. She could feel it in the way his eyes lingered, in the way he hovered just out of reach, his presence haunting her every step. She should have run when she had the chance. But now, trapped in his world, there’s no escape. Faith is the light in his suffocating darkness, the one thing that keeps him tethered to the edge of humanity. But the question remains—can he control the monster inside him long enough to keep her safe, or will his hunger consume them both? The flame burns brighter. The danger grows closer. And as the nights grow colder, Faith’s only hope is that he can keep his darkest urges in check. Because if he can’t… she will become the next victim of his insatiable thirst.

Rune Leeder has been demoted to a servant since her father was declared a traitor. Her family was taken away from her, and she has to suffer constant bullying from other pack members. She’s sure she’ll live her life like that until she takes her last breath, but the Moon Goddess has something in store for her. Alpha Kane is the most feared Alpha in all the packs; he’s strict, ruthless, and far from happy that his mate is a servant who was demoted for her family’s involvement in treason. He swears she won’t be the Luna of the pack as it poses a threat should her father come out of hiding and decide to destroy the pack his ancestors arrived to build, but he can’t get her out of his mind, neither can he keep his hands to himself when she’s close. **** “Do you really not know, or are you pretending not to know?” Huskiness lingered in his tone. Zarah growled, and I picked up a faint musky scent, earthy and masculine, that became stronger with each passing second. Alpha Kane smirked. Zarah growled again, this time louder. I sniffed and unconsciously pulled Alpha Kane closer to me. The scent rolled off him effortlessly. I shut my eyes and buried my nose in the crook of his neck, sniffing uncontrollably as though my body had a mind of its own. It did. “MATE,” Zarah growled, and my eyes flew open. “Alright, that’s enough,” Alpha Kane peeled my hands off him, an amused smile on his lips.

I was blind This is my fault, isn't it? The man I loved, and I thought he was going to protect me all my life is the one who sold me off to an unknown man. I spent a night with that man. I wanted to kill myself and end my misery. But the man I spent a night with stopped me. He made me an offer: he would give me my sight back, in return, I had to become his woman. In the moment of despair, I choose survival over everything else. After my sight was restored, I did what I thought was justice- I shot my vile ex-boyfriend. I spared his life, but only so he would live with the consequences of his betrayal. Then I ran. I couldn't be anyone's woman. But even as I escaped, one name lingered in my mind, Zac Bratva. I could never forget him. How could I? He was the father of my son. "It's been five years, huh! You think you can escape me." I was startled, hearing the familiar voice before looking around. "I don't know what you are saying, sir. I don't know you," I stammered, fear tightening around my throat. "Seems like I have to help you to recall!" He said, his voice sharp. But before I could react, he pressed his gun against my head and said, "I am Zac Bratva, the godfather," he growled, "Yet you are brave enough to play with me. Now, Get inside the car, Woman!" "Godfather! What?!" My head erupted.

Every she wolf in the werewolf world dreams of soft, flowery relationships with their mates. Luna Andrea is no different. When the alpha of the Blackthorne pack and the most eligible bachelor chooses her as his mate, she thought he'd love her just like in the movies but she was wrong. His cold eyes met hers on the day he mated her. They lingered on her for the next two years. Andrea tried all she could to please him. She stayed positive, hoping and praying to the moon goddess to one day soften his heart so he'd see how much she cared for him. But when rumours of him in a relationship with a lady goes around, Andrea's word tilted upside down. She never expected it to be her personal handmaiden. A confrontation was all it took for Andrea to be blamed for her handmaiden's faked pregnancy. Left to die by the punishing whips of her mate, Andrea thought all hope was lost. Not until he came. Lycan King Darius. During her trail, the pack goes under attack and the one person her mate turns to is her handmaiden. Left to die in the arms of lycans, she caught the attention of the lycan king. Her wolf called for his. Lycan king Darius wasn't one for flowery romances. Andrea— a werewolf princess raised to believe lycans were evil, was triggered by the bond. When he offered to help her get revenge in exchange for being his, she accepts. Hate brewed in their veins. Lycans and werewolves weren't exactly buddies but what happens when the hate boiled into something deeper? Would she accept the bond or fight it?

Behind every great Queen stands no one; something Miliani Hwang learned from the early age of ten after she was forced to take over the Hwang Family Mafia when her parents died in a murder-suicide. In light of their tragic end, she built herself up from the ground for 11 years, trusting no man to stand behind or even beside her. The sheer sound of her name was enough to have even the toughest men on their knees and despite not ever taking a life with her own hands, everyone in the crime world knew they should never cross The Great Miliani Hwang. It doesn't surprise her when she is betrayed on her 21st birthday but she never expected her own blood to be the mastermind. She flees to Sicily with the help of the Ravello Crime Family, where she learns many secrets about her lineage and starts falling for the smug Vincenzo Ravello. Now a disgraced mob boss with nothing but her name and rage a lingering question lingered in the back of her mind; who was she now if not The Great Miliani Hwang? Vincenzo Ravello, the eldest son of the Ravello Crime Family knew all too well about the dangers that come with his title as heir to the Cosa Nostra. He's spent the past few years of his life reminding his enemies time and time again that he wasn't a man they wanted to mess with. His heart was made of stone and women, to him were nothing more than playthings until her. He would do anything for her. Every Queen needs a King to avenge her and Miliani must learn to trust her heart to stand beside hers because he will burn the whole world until all her enemies bow at her feet.

Amanda's world fell apart with just one inquiry during the silence of betrayal. "Did you receive the letter that came in this morning at your office?" Dickson's charge seemed weighty and unassailable as it lingered in the air. A storm that threatened to drown the promises of a lifetime had arrived in the form of the terrible divorce letter. Amanda's heart stumbled beneath the weight of broken vows as Dickson's icy words reverberated. She begged, her voice sour, "You promised me..." Unshed tears clouded her vision, and disappointment loomed over her, threatening to crush her. Dickson, however, remained unaffected and branded their union a sham. Amanda's fate had been decided by Amelia's reappearance. Amanda began to doubt the genuineness of the years she had spent in a loveless marriage once the discovery came upon her like a cold wave. "You're getting a divorce because she came back? Are we nothing more than a joke to you?" His reply was more incisive and exposed a fact Amanda hadn't dared to confront. She served as a pawn or stand-in in a game of family dynasty. "You were not the spouse I desired... I won't make the same error now that she's back." Dickson's scathing remarks highlighted the hollowness of their relationship as well as the wounds caused by unmet expectations. When Amanda experienced heartbreak, she was given a stern choice: sign the paperwork or go with a price tag on her value. Amanda was left to sift through the ruins of a marriage that was founded on dishonesty and unspoken wishes because Dickson's mastery of cruel words had reached its zenith. As Amanda debated whether to let go or fight for the love she thought was once genuine, the sour taste of betrayal persisted.

Years had passed since Helena first walked through the imposing gates of Brentford Academy—a school of wealth and whispers, luxury and secrets. The memories of those early days—of cold stares, whispered mockery, and relentless bullying from Greg and Bianca—still lingered in her mind, but they no longer held the power to hurt her. Levenon had once felt like a place of exile, a strange city after her parents’ divorce. But beneath the glittering surface of privilege and cruelty, Helena found something unexpected: strength, and even a fragile kind of hope. Greg, the billionaire heir who had wielded his wealth like a weapon, had surprised everyone—including himself. What began as rivalry and harshness slowly turned into something more complicated. Beneath his arrogance, Greg saw something in Helena he had never noticed before—her courage, her kindness, her refusal to be broken. As seasons passed, his animosity faded into admiration, and admiration blossomed into love. It was a quiet, confusing love, born from moments stolen between tension and vulnerability. Helena, though wary at first, eventually saw past Greg’s tough exterior to the boy struggling with his own expectations. Bianca, once the unchallenged queen of Brentford’s social scene, faded into the background, losing her grip on power as both Greg and Helena forged their own paths. Helena graduated at the top of her class, her scholarship the key to a future she had fought hard to claim. Universities lined up with offers, eager to welcome the girl who had risen above Brentford’s shadows. Now, standing once more before the academy’s grand gates, Helena no longer saw the school as a place of cruelty but as the crucible that shaped her. Brentford had been a battlefield—and a forge. With Greg by her side, no longer a bully but a partner, Helena ---

It was never part of my plan to get attached. I was just a freelance model, newly signed under a rising modeling agency in town. Everything was supposed to be simple; work, exposure, growth. Then came Dr. Aria Williams — dermatologist, surgeon, and the woman who was supposed to fix me. Chaos started the moment I met her. The way she talked, the way she looked at me felt like she was studying every inch of who I was. Every word I said, every silence I made, she read me like I was her favorite patient. It made me uncomfortably hot, and yet... I kept coming back. I told myself it was part of the therapy, the strange pull I felt toward her was part of it. But the way she looked at me; cold, curious, almost hungry, said otherwise. I hated her for it. I felt it every time her voice softened, every time her fingers lingered on my skin longer than they should. She called it treatment. I called it control. What started as therapy turned into something dark and deeper. I wanted to be beautiful, to be ready for the public, but what we craved became something private, something only between us. And the more sessions I had with her, the stronger the connection grew. Until one day, her eyes focused on someone else. And every time their eyes met, it burned through me. When she saw it, she offered something that challenged me. To be her slave and she'll be mine— alone. Soon, I found myself following her every order, fulfilling her desires without question. Along the way, I realized her obsession had become mine too. And before I could stop, the hate I once felt for her turned into something else.