Liver Puns 소설 & 이야기

In the second installment of the book, Ryo and Oliver try to navigate life after their "breakup." Ryo decides to move on with her life, she decides to find love and live. But can she really move on and pretend she doesn't have feelings for Oliver? Can she pretend she doesn't see him hurting? The most important question is, will Oliver let the girl he loves fall in love with someone else? Is he going to remain stubborn or will he show Ryo that he is worth her love? This is the turning point in their life, they will either stand together or break each other's hearts forever.

The Moon Goddess never chose me. At least, that’s what I thought. Abandoned as a baby, raised as Ridge Storm Pack’s pity project, I learned to fight for every grade, every scrap of respect, every breath inside Silver Ridge Academy’s walls. A place built on the Great Accord where wolves, fae, witches, and dragon-blooded heirs train together under wards older than memory. A place where dominance is currency, and I’ve always been bankrupt. Then they found me. Callum. Jaxon. Rory. Seth.
The Ridge Storm Quadruplets. Thirty-five years old, untouchable, infamous. Alphas without a Luna, warriors feared across Lycandra, second only to the Supreme Alphas who oversee the realm for the triplet Lycan Kings themselves. They say no wolf has ever been chosen by four Alphas. The bond resonance that detonated between us has never happened in history—ten out of ten on the wards. Unprecedented. Impossible. And yet, here we are. Their storm, their blaze, their rogue, their prince.
My shadows. My chains. My undoing. Every touch sparks like lightning. Every glance feels like a promise I’m terrified to believe. Because if the Goddess gave me to them, She can take it back. And I don’t know what’s more dangerous—fighting this bond, or surrendering to it. One thing is certain: the closer my birthday—and my first shift—draws, the more the power inside me rises. Something none of us understand. Something even the Supreme Alphas are watching. And when the truth comes out, not even the Great Accord will save me.

It all began with a single post about canceling a food delivery order. Overnight, I became the internet's punching bag. Thousands of vicious messages flooded my inbox, filled with photoshopped memorials urging me to die. They doxxed my family, plastered my personal details across shady websites, and used AI to create obscene images of me, spreading them in vile chat groups. They spread lies about my income, claiming it came from illicit sources, and accused me of carrying diseases. I didn't call the police or block the messages. Instead, I read every hateful word before singling out the 100 worst offenders. Every day, I sent each one a luxurious meal: Boston lobster, Australian wagyu, the works. Each delivery came with a simple note: [Thank you for your hard work.]

Some time ago, I was a delivery boy. One day, I received an order to deliver adult toys. When I went to the hotel room, I found a beautiful woman kneeling on a bed with her back turned to me. She only wore a thong. At that moment, I received a message on the delivery app. "Use the toys to bring her pleasure. If you do well, I will reward you with one hundred thousand dollars."

You think I'm a bully because of house problems, or parent problems” he tells me sneering it out as he walks towards me, which makes me move back as reflex. “Well pretty face, you’ve got it all wrong” he whispers out, taking another step towards me, and as a reflex I move back, until I discover my back has hit the locker “I am a bully because I want to be, because I like it, it is like a hobby you know, so, get the fuck out of my face” he tells me, sneering the last statement, which caught me off-guard, and makes me shiver. “too bad for you also, seems like you’ve seen your match, and I would mind the tone you speak to me Mister” I tell him walking towards him, which makes him take several steps back He looks at me with a face full of surprise, seems like the first time someone stands up to him, I don't know and in fact I don't care.

04:00 AM. JFK International Airport. I switched off airplane mode, and my phone lit up. The first notification was an Instagram story from my husband, Donovan Valentino, Don of the Valentino family, posted at 3:30 AM: a photo of Seraphina Moretti’s back, captioned, “Run 50 completed. Package delivered safe.” An hour before that, my flight had hit catastrophic clear-air turbulence, dropping two thousand feet in seconds. I’d clung to my seatbelt until my knuckles turned white, the crumpled threat letter from a rival crew pressed like a blade against my ribs. In those blind, falling seconds, one thought burned through the panic: If I live through this—if Donovan is waiting at arrivals—I’ll tear up my transfer papers to Dubai and stay. But there were no missed calls. No messages. He’d been too busy collecting Seraphina. He knew my flight details. He just didn’t care. Four years of marriage. 50 fully armed security details for Seraphina. For my 112 long-haul flights over those same four years? The most I ever got was a driver in an unmarked sedan. Even the night Gambino’s crew tailed me from Manhattan, and I spent six hours locked in a diner bathroom. He didn’t pick up until dawn, after the twelfth try. My transfer to Dubai was confirmed. The signed divorce settlement was in my bag. This was the last time I’d ever come back for him.

Struggling college student Lena Carter works late-night deliveries to keep herself afloat, surviving on tips, exhaustion, and determination. Every night she delivered to his door. Every night he gave her another reason to stay. Lena thought Adrian Cole was just a customer. She was wrong. He was temptation in a tailored suit. And once he decided he wanted her— walking away was never part of the story. What begins with after-hours orders and dangerous flirtation soon spirals into a passionate connection neither of them can control. The deeper she falls, the harder it becomes to tell where attraction ends… and obsession begins. Because Adrian doesn’t pursue halfway. And Lena may be the one thing he refuses to let go. Late Night Deliveries: The After Hours is a seductive romance filled with longing, tension, possessive love, and the kind of chemistry that burns hottest after dark. Some deliveries arrive late. Some change everything.

When Kayla Dawson wakes up on the morning of her marriage to the love of her life and mate, Dean, the last thing she expects is to see him standing at the foot of her bed with rage as he stares down at something beside her. She looks to see a man laying next to her, deep asleep, and completely naked, just like she was. All attempts to explain and vindicate herself proves futile as Dean doesn’t want to hear it and ultimately ends the marriage. Ashamed and humiliated, she runs away from her pack, only to find herself in more trouble. And this trouble is in the form of a man. A very sexy one at that.. Alpha Oliver would never have thought that a hunt would end up with him going home with a second chance mate that he absolutely doesn’t want. But the moon goddess has other plans for him, which he isn’t sure he likes…

In the delivery room, my wife, Ashley Chase, is now fully dilated, but she refuses to go through with the delivery. She insists that I have to agree to accept her betrayal first. "Henry Madden, I want you to swear that you'll treat this baby as if it were your own. Or else, I refuse to give birth today. The baby and I will both die in this delivery room!" The medical staff joins in, trying to convince me that life matters more than anything else—that all Ashley has done is make a mistake, and I should just live with it. Ashley's mother even slaps me when she sees that I haven't agreed yet. "You're just a loser who married into our family! You should feel honored that we're letting you be the father in name. Don't be such an ingrate!" Sneering, I grab the delivery consent form and write the words "do not agree". "Since Ashley is so keen to end both her own life and the life of her love child, I'll let her have her way."

I receive a message one day. "Your condoms have been delivered. Total to be paid: XX dollars." I distinctly remember that I've never made such an order, but the address and phone number are mine. I call my husband, but he only says differently, "My godsister ordered them. She's too shy to use her details, so she used yours. It's not like it'll affect you." I nod silently. She might as well not have them if she can't afford to pay for them.