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The Tyrant's Bride Vow

The Tyrant's Bride Vow

“Forbidden marriage, dangerous love, and a bloody inheritance.” Enola Spark was nothing more than a “useless child” in the eyes of her family—beautiful but always looked down upon, oppressed by her uncle, and sidelined by her cousin, Clarine, the perfect heiress. But everything changed on the night of Clarine’s engagement to Damian Cassel, the tyrannical heir feared by the entire city. A scandal erupted in front of family and guests: Damian chose Enola instead. One night of sin binds them in a marriage that shocks everyone. Clarine is humiliated, her uncle is furious, and Damian’s stepbrother vows to bring them down. The wedding is only the beginning of the war. Enola must endure humiliation, jealousy, and betrayal from the family dinner table to the corporate boardroom. Yet behind Damian’s cold exterior, Enola discovers a side of the man he only shows her. In a world filled with intrigue and inheritance battles, can Enola survive? Or will this forbidden love be their downfall?
Romance
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Tragic Heroine No More: I Read the Comments and Went Berserk

Tragic Heroine No More: I Read the Comments and Went Berserk

As the male lead, Henry Johnston, forces himself on me, a row of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "Henry is about to misunderstand and think Aria drugged him! The angst is about to begin!" "I'm thrilled just thinking about Henry regretting dearly after Aria dies!" "Keep up the act, Henry. After she dies, you'll be hugging her corpse and crying every day." That is when I realize that I am the tragic female lead in a story where I am destined to be tormented until I die. The readers treat my death as a highlight to push the plot forward. They are counting down to my death. As I look at Henry, who is panting on top of me, anger courses through me. I grab a table lamp and smash it into him, killing him on the spot. Who says that the one who dies in a toxic romance story must always be the female lead?
Short Story · Imagination
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CEO Marriage Scam

CEO Marriage Scam

If there's only one year left in her life, she wants to die in the arms of her beloved man! A diagnosis of brain tumor drove her to make a crazy decision: to marry him and trade her perfect heart for his. One year later, she died, leaving that heart to the woman he loved the most. Naively, she believed that even in death, her heart would continue to beat inside the body of the woman he cherished, keeping him company... Unexpectedly, she became pregnant. A comprehensive physical examination revealed the truth: she was the most foolish woman in the world. She wasn't sick at all; he had always targeted her heart. The operating table was so cold, so icy; he was so heartless, and she was so desperate... But ultimately, her life shouldn't have ended. So, let all those who harmed her tremble. She has returned!
Romance
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UNDER THAT CONTRACT

UNDER THAT CONTRACT

When Cameron signed the marriage contract the clausules were clear enough; in exchange of the money to save her family from bankruptcy she had to give birth to the Ferrer familiy's heir. But what no one knew is she's infertile. Diego Ferrer and Cameron had so much in common. While Cameron lost her twin sister Diego was losing the love of his life, and now they're married under that stupid contract. She was light in a cave. He was a cave with no ray of light. She may be his paradise. He may be her hell. What will happen the day when Diego sees his wife in that table dance, moving her waist in front of all those men who want more? But not only that, what will happen the day when Diego finds out his wife had a son all along and, of course, wasn't his? Maybe, Cameron never lost her twin sister.
Romance
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The Blood-Stained Sour Candy

The Blood-Stained Sour Candy

When I was seven years old, my younger brother went into anaphylactic shock after sneaking a handful of peanuts. Outside the emergency room, my mother slammed my head against the wall over and over, her face twisted with rage. "If you had been watching him like you were supposed to be, this never would have happened! You should be the one with a ruptured stomach, not him!" After that, whenever my brother so much as caught a cold, my mother forced me to eat spoiled leftovers as punishment. I once prepared an elaborate feast. She flipped the entire table and made me crawl on the floor to lick it clean. When I said I wanted to study culinary arts, she poured hot oil over my hands. My father wanted to send me to vocational school to learn a trade, but my mother clutched my brother to her chest and wailed. "She destroyed her brother's health! She owes him a lifetime of service!" When I was fifteen, my brother's gluttony cost my father an important business deal. I took the blame without even being asked, and the furious client forced me to drink more than half a gallon of hard liquor. By the time I was sent home with a bleeding stomach, my father had already scolded my brother. My mother took out her anger on me instead, slapping me so hard my ears rang and my vision went dark at the edges. "You useless thing! You should’ve choked to death at that table! I get sick just looking at you!" I coughed up black blood. From my pocket, I pulled out a piece of sour candy that had gone soft and sticky. It was the only treat my mother had ever given me with a smile, back before my brother's allergic reaction. I put the candy in my mouth and swallowed it down with the taste of stomach acid. The candy was so sour it made my throat burn. Whatever came next, I just hoped I would not have to be my family’s garbage disposal again.
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Never Meant to Leave

Never Meant to Leave

The day I died was Mommy’s birthday. For once, she left me an unusually large slice of cake. I hovered before it, greedy, leaning in to breathe in its sweetness. But the very next second, she handed the cake to my younger sister, Bella Tesla. “Have some, Bella. Better you than that ungrateful girl!” Then she turned to Daddy, who was filming nearby. “You recorded everything, right? When she returns, make her watch it. Don’t let her say again that we play favorites! “Of all things to learn, she learned how to run away from home! “We spoiled her! If she has any sense, let her never come back!” She sneered as she slammed the table and cursed at me, never noticing the panic on Bella’s face as she held the cake. She also failed to notice Bella’s disheveled hair. She noticed even less the dark stains of blood on her sleeve. Blood that belonged to me.
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OFFERED TO THE RUTHLESS LYCAN: HIS BREEDER

OFFERED TO THE RUTHLESS LYCAN: HIS BREEDER

Museswrites
Meet Hera Julius, popularly known as the daughter of the NightWalker pack's traitor, but she's far from your typical damsel in distress. With her beauty and fierce spirit, she's a force to be reckoned with. But when she publicly rejects Alpha Lucien, she sets off a chain of events that will test her strength like never before. Just like other Alphas, Lucien's ego is crushed by Hera's rejection. He vows to make Hera pay, but how far will he go to make her suffer? Fate takes a sharp turn, sparing Hera from the pack's wrath after being accused of a murder she didn't commit. She's handed over to Lycan Damien as his breeder, with a precarious deal on the table threatening her life. Can she convince Damien to break the deal, despite his icy demeanor? What if there's more to the situation than meets the eye, particularly given her position as his breeder?
Werewolf
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After He Chose His Plaything, I Severed the Bond

After He Chose His Plaything, I Severed the Bond

Without Kaelen's knowledge, I had his little plaything sent out of North America. That same night, he cast a blood-vine curse on my parents, banishing them to the wilds—a wasteland prowled by rogues. He was going to trade my parents' lives for the whereabouts of his plaything. Kaelen pushed a communication crystal in front of me. Inside it, my parents were ensnared by blood-red vines, the thorns digging deep into their flesh. Drops of dark crimson blood fell, one by one, onto the barren earth. A countdown timer pulsed in stark red digits on their chests. 23:59:59 23:59:58 He sat across from me, a black suit tailored to perfection molded to his lean, powerful frame. His long fingers tapped a light, steady rhythm on the solid wood table, as if he were waiting for a trivial business deal to close. "Estelle, you have twenty-four hours." His voice was low and calm, laced with a venomous tenderness. "Tell me, where did you send Cassandra?"
Short Story · Werewolf
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Stolen from The Billionaire

Stolen from The Billionaire

Marie’s mum is dying, and her only bet at survival is an expensive surgery that they could never afford. Driven by desperation, she seeks her step mother’s help, a brothel owner who gives her the condition of sleeping with an old rich client of hers. Disgusted and unable to do so, Marie finds solace in a city bar and unexpectedly finds herself talking to a stranger. Their conversation is easy, and somehow they manage to get drunk and have a steamy night together. When Marie wakes up to leave in shame and quiet, she sees his expensive golden Rolex wristwatch on the side table and makes a quick and risky decision then and there. Eight years later, on her first day of work at Prime Telecoms, she bumps into the stranger from her one-night stand years ago. Not only is he the CEO of the company, he is also the father of her daughter, and the man she stole worth hundreds of thousands of dollars from. And now, he won't let her go.
Romance
287 viewsOngoing
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From Heartbroken to Untouchable

From Heartbroken to Untouchable

I've been married to Elliot Graves, the mafia drug lord in NYC, for the past eight years. But today—on our wedding anniversary—I received a photo of him with my best friend, Lila, celebrating as if they were the ones married. And in her arms was my son, Owen. I stared at the image, then typed out two words in reply. “How perfect.” Half a hour later, Elliot stormed through the front door. His voice thundered through the hallway. “Why do you always have to be so bitchy to Lila?” Owen, my own little boy, shoved at my leg and glared. “Bad Momma,” he said. “I wish Miss Lila was my real mommy.” I didn’t flinch. I simply walked over to the drawer, pulled out the crisp stack of papers I’d long prepared, and dropped them on the table with a quiet finality. “Alright,” I said, my voice calm. “It’s all my fault. Now, can I go?”
Short Story · Mafia
12.8K viewsCompleted
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