Lock Screen Jjk Wallpaper Novels & Stories

One day, after getting rear-ended outside my office, I, Maeve Dahlman, call out for help, but Austin Cooper, who is simply passing by with Carmen Holt, merely glances at me impatiently, annoyed that I've disrupted their lunch plans. Instead of helping, he has his assistant take me to his private club and lock me in a room, accusing me of being paranoid and dramatic. "I'll give you three days to calm down," he says before walking away and leaving me in isolation. Eventually, I escape and call the police. An ambulance rushes me to the hospital, where doctors diagnose me with a brain injury that requires immediate surgery. I keep calling Austin, only to realize that he has blocked my number. Then, I see Carmen's latest post online, gushing about a romantic luxurious dinner with him. After I'm discharged, I cancel the wedding, destroy all the invitations, and finally call my mother. "Mom," I say, "I've made up my mind. I'm ready to meet him."

“Keith…” I breathe, rather wickedly as a hint of a smile appears on my lips. “Are you…aroused?” “Would you stop?” he bites out. “I have a beautiful girl in my arms - I can’t help how my body reacts.” “Oh, sure,” I tease. “Stop. Moving.” “You know, I’m surprised you saved me,” I begin, wanting to annoy him even more. “Especially because you think my behavior is so - oh, what was it? Immoral?” “Just because you’re an immoral minx, it doesn’t mean you deserve to be hurt,” he says dryly. A minx, huh? -- I‘m pro anti-matebond. My wolf City, however, allows us to mimic the scent that each individual werewolf prefers. She makes men obsessed with me. They think they’re in love and will do anything I ask of them. I used my charm and saved my bff from her abusive mate, the beta of Lock Heart pack. While his alpha, Keith, a mate bond believer, have my charm disabled…

"You're just my credit card. You're worthless, Jemima. And your ugly face makes me want to puke." Those were the words Jemima Wilson heard on her two-year anniversary—from the boyfriend she'd sacrificed everything for, while her best friend lay naked in his bed. Hours later, she woke up in a hospital bed with a ring on her finger and a husband she never chose: Khalid Greyson, her cold, demanding boss, and the CEO of Greyson Corporation. Their marriage was arranged by their mothers, sealed by contract, and built on nothing but obligation. But the man who pinned her against the wall on their wedding night, who touched her like he owned her... he's nothing like the emotionless husband she expected. Now Jemima must decide: lock away her broken heart, or give Khalid the chance to be the only man who can truly claim her. But in a world where being the CEO's wife comes with enemies lurking in every shadow... will she survive long enough to choose him?

Trained since childhood to be nothing but a weapon, Esme has lived under her father’s harsh hand. Poison runs in her veins, bruises mark her skin, and every lesson ends with a reminder; kill the king, or her mother dies. Sent into the werewolf palace as a kitchen maid, she waits for her moment, vial and blade hidden beneath her apron. But nothing in her father’s drills prepared her for King Ardon. The first time their eyes lock, something raw and dangerous stirs inside her, a pull she doesn’t understand and cannot control. Each day she spends in his halls, each command spoken in that steady voice, makes her mission harder to carry out. The court whispers. Enemies circle and Lady Selene sharpens her claws, determined to claim the crown by Ardon’s side. And Esme, trapped between loyalty to the man who raised her and the strange fire rising within her, stands on the edge of a truth she’s not ready to face. She was sent to kill the king, but she may be fated to love him.

On New Year's Eve, the smell of a roast in the oven drifted through the house. My grandmother walked over to me, with an old photograph in her hand, the edges worn soft with age. "Is Zack almost home?" My throat tightened. It had been three years. She could never remember that my younger brother was long gone. I was the one who picked up his ashes. At that moment, my phone rang. The moment I saw the name on the screen, the blood in my veins seemed to freeze. I stepped out onto the balcony before answering, keeping my voice low. "What is it?" The voice on the other end of the line trembled. "It's been three years. Are you still angry? I've been waiting for you to come home. Our son has, too. We're downstairs." Downstairs? I walked over and looked down to see a tall figure and a small one standing together. Through my phone, my son's voice came with a catch in his throat, saying, "Daddy…" My thoughts snapped back into place. I said flatly, "We've been divorced for a long time. He said he didn't want to stay with me." Then, I hung up without another word.

After my husband, Samson Ferrell, receives his year-end bonus, he takes his godsister, Maya Taylors, on a three-month overseas trip. Meanwhile, I'm forced to continue working while taking care of our children on my own. In the middle of the night, when my children catch fevers simultaneously, I have to console my younger daughter with soothing words while wiping my oldest daughters down with a damp towel. My phone doesn't stop buzzing the whole time. From time to time, I receive pictures of Samson and Maya in swimwear while lounging under the Moldave sun. Sometimes, I see photos of them skiing happily in Chwiss. Honestly speaking, if Samson is just a friend of mine, I'll find myself admiring his relaxed and casual lifestyle. Unfortunately, he is my legal husband. My phone screen lights up again. This time, it's a racy picture sent by Maya. "Hey, I heard that you're taking care of the children at home. Well then, I shall take good care of Samson." After saving all of the photos and purchase history, I book an appointment with a divorce attorney. The day of Samson's return to the country will be the day he receives a lawsuit to recover marital assets.

I died on the day I won the Global Medical Doctorate Award. Fresh from celebrating the sixteenth birthday of my younger sister, my parents, brother, and my fiancé finally returned home, but it was three hours after my death. My family photos were beaming with happiness on social media, while I laid in the suffocating basement drenched in blood. Before I died, I had struggled to slide my tongue across my phone screen in a desperate attempt to call for help. My parents and brother had blocked my number. Only my fiancé answered my call. The moment his voice came through, he snapped, "Winona, Winnie's sixteenth birthday is important. Stop trying to hijack attention with your pathetic excuses. Enough with the theatrics!" It murdered my last spark of survival. In that electronic death rattle, my heart flatlined. The 100th time they chose her. The 100th time they abandoned me for her. But it was also the last time. They thought I had ran way to get their attention again, and that if they taught me a harsh lesson, I would come crawling back pathetically. But not this time. Because I didn't leave home. I had been lying in the basement of my house.

Everyone thought Isabelle Monroe was just a washed-up actress clinging to a loveless marriage. Her husband cheated. Her own son called the other woman “Mommy.” Still, she smiled through it all, desperately trying to fix her perfect family. Until the day both her husband and son told her she was a nuisance and they didn’t want her anymore. Thrown out of her own home, humiliated and replaced, Isabelle walks away with nothing but her pride. But just when the world erased her name, he appeared. Riven Thorne, a powerful, enigmatic and far too familiar man offers her comfort, a contract, and a cold little girl who won’t speak to anyone but her. He gives Isabelle another chance. Not just at motherhood... but at revenge, fame, and love. Now she’s back on screen, headlines are begging for her name, and the same people who mocked her are clawing to be on her side. She tells herself it’s all pretend… The husband. The marriage. But then… Her new daughter clings to her hand. Her son cries and calls her “Mommy” again. And her fake husband starts feeling all too real. Isabelle starts to wonder— Is this fate’s way of rewriting her story?

I waited for Alex for over five years. I endured the whispers of the clan, the mocking gazes, the judgment from his family who never thought I was good enough. Still, I waited—because I loved him. I believed in him. I trusted that he would choose me in the end. But the truth shattered me. One evening, I saw his laptop left open. And on the screen—countless photos of Elsa. His childhood sweetheart. His first love. It felt like a knife twisting in my chest. While I was drowning in problems, silently begging for his support, he was smiling by her side. All those years I gave him... all that waiting… I got nothing. So I left. Broken. Exhausted. Done pretending I was okay. I traveled far from our pack, seeking solitude under the excuse of pack relocation. But the truth was, I was trying to stitch myself back together—one breath, one step, one bitter tear at a time.But now… he’s gone mad looking for me. Why, Alex? Why do you search for me now, after crushing me so completely? When I stood by you, you looked past me. Now that I’ve finally let go… Why do you care?

While I was watching my own child, I came across an anonymous post online: [My son married way above his station. How can I get him to divorce her?] The poster claimed to be a mother. She said she hated her oldest son, describing him as lazy and selfish, and totally undeserving of such a great in-law family. Her plan was to force him to get a divorce—and then send her well-behaved, obedient younger son in his place as the new son-in-law. The comment section went crazy. [I've seen parents play favorites, but this is just twisted.] [Is the oldest adopted or something? Who schemes against their own flesh and blood like that?] [Are you marrying off a son or pimping one out? Just swapping them in to serve a rich family?] Then, in the middle of all the outrage, one comment surfaced: [Men hate being cheated on. Fake a few photos of your daughter-in-law with another guy and send them to him. Once he loses it, the marriage is as good as over.] The original poster replied immediately: [Thanks, girl! I'll try it right away.] The next second, my phone buzzed. A message from my mom popped up on the screen: [Jason, take a look at this. Do you think Emily is cheating?]