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The Golden Child's Secret

The Golden Child's Secret

Ever since I was born, Mom had loved making promises she never intended to keep. When my elementary school teacher said I had potential for advanced math competitions, she beamed with pride. "Caroline Fisher, you're amazing! Whatever tutoring you need, just say the word. I work hard so you can spend however you like!" However, she could not even cough up the 50-dollar class fee. Instead, she turned around and enrolled my two-year-old sister, Hailey Fisher, in premium preschool enrichment classes. I ended up eating plain meals every day, scraping together the class fee from my lunch money. When I got accepted to Vanford College, the best school in the country, Mom grabbed my hands excitedly and promised, "I knew you'd make it big! Tomorrow, we're throwing a big party to celebrate!" But the next day, she locked me in the house. Meanwhile, she rented the city's most luxurious banquet hall for Hailey, who had dropped out of middle school. She stole my acceptance letter and bragged to everyone at the party, "Hailey is so gifted, she got into Vanford College's gifted program at 13!" After her endless bragging, everyone believed that I was slow and useless, while Hailey was a prodigy. I gritted my teeth and pushed through until graduation, finally landing a job I actually wanted. Yet, after my pre-employment medical exam, Mom suddenly grabbed my hand tightly, her gaze determined. "Caroline, don't be scared! Cervical cancer has a really high survival rate! Even if it costs every penny I have, I'll be right here fighting this cancer with you!" Then, she turned the corner into the stairwell and burst out laughing with Hailey. "Finally, we can dump Caroline, that burden! She actually thinks I'd help her with treatment? I wish she'd hurry up and die!" When the doctor approached to discuss surgery details, I waved him off with a cold smile. "Cancel the surgery. Hailey's the one who's sick, and I have no obligation to worry about her!"
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Mariage en fuite, dette d’amour

Mariage en fuite, dette d’amour

Mon petit ami Nick, qui avait combattu pendant dix ans dans les tribus du Sud, est enfin revenu. Quand il m'a dit qu'il voulait m'épouser et faire de moi sa Luna, mon cœur a débordé d'émotion. À ce moment-là, j'ai cru que j'avais enfin trouvé ma place. Mais après être tombée enceinte, j'ai découvert par hasard, dans son ordinateur, des vidéos pornographiques entre lui et ma meilleure amie Sherry, ainsi que son journal intime, rempli de déclarations d'amour pour elle. Je me suis connectée à son compte secondaire WhatsApp. Bien que Sherry l'ait déjà bloqué, il continuait à lui envoyer des mots doux, des déclarations en vidéo, des messages écrits et vocaux. Je suis allée à l'hôpital pour un examen prénatal. Mais dans le hall, j'ai vu mon Alpha, Nick, à genoux devant Sherry, un bouquet de fleurs à la main et le collier en pierre de lune, héritage de sa famille. « Sherry, pour toi, j'ai renoncé à mon rêve de soumettre les tribus du Sud. Je suis revenu uniquement pour te retrouver. Je veux t'épouser ! Un enfant a besoin de son père. Si tu es d'accord, je te marque immédiatement et tu deviendras ma Luna ! » Je me suis alors retournée et j'ai demandé au médecin de procéder à une interruption volontaire de grossesse. Puis je suis partie seule, sans me retourner. Je ne m'attendais pas à ce qu'il abandonne Sherry et leur enfant pour se lancer, comme un fou, à ma recherche.
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I Left With My Daughter

I Left With My Daughter

Cecilia Laurent’s husband, Lyon Melville, was known across North Ameria’s underground circles as the biggest womanizer. As the current Don of the Melville family, the women who wanted to get close to him would line up from New Yorke to Rondon. He never turned anyone away from his bed. Cecilia had been married to Lyon for five years. The taunting messages and intimate photos from his mistresses were enough to fill the storage on three of her encrypted phones. Cecilia showed no mercy. After the photos of Lyon in the car with a model were made public, she had the sports car dismantled completely. When he went out to sea with an actress to watch fireworks, she had the yacht blown to nothing. She blacklisted every woman who tried to cling to him. She overturned tables at family banquets. She risked every bit of dignity she had as the Melville family’s Donna in the hope that he would come back to her. Lyon allowed it. He let the rumors spread without denying anything. For five years, Cecilia was the joke of the family and the entire underworld. When the New Year came around, Cecilia received her first “gift” of the year. It was an intimate photo of Lyon in bed with another woman. At nearly the same time, a headline broke across New Yorke’s social media and tabloids. [Don Melville Meets Superstar Gianna Moretti Late at Night.] Inside the banquet hall of the family estate, the band continued to play. The champagne tower reflected a cold light. Everyone was waiting for her to blow up. Her assistant expertly pulled up the PR department’s number and held the phone out to her. “Donna Melville, the PR team is waiting for your instructions. Do you want us to make this bigger, like last time?” Cecilia looked at the man in the photo. Ten minutes ago, he had held their daughter on the balcony and watched the fireworks together. She suddenly smiled. “Take it down,” she said. “I don’t want to see this on the front page in two hours.” Everyone in New Yorke knew that the Melville family’s Donna loved like a madwoman. She could lose her temper just as easily. But this time, she did not lose control. She wanted a divorce.
Short Story · Mafia
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The Don's Hidden Heiress: Last Week Alive

The Don's Hidden Heiress: Last Week Alive

When I drink the amber-colored poisonous wine, I can hear the joyful melody of a toast song coming from the manor. The wedding between Emanuela Romano and my ex-fiance, Benedetto Martini, is being held there right now. The elderly butler, Vincenzo Romano, puts away the wine glass with a blank expression. The way he speaks is as somber as one sounds when they give a speech at a funeral. "You know the Don's will very well, Ms. Andreotti. Five years are officially up, yet neither Mr. Andreotti, Mr. Martini, nor Dr. Foscari is willing to pledge their loyalty to you via the blood vow. According to the rules, you must take your own life within seven days. "The Don had left the Ashwine to you as a means of protecting… what little pride you have." Scorching pain begins spreading from my throat. I just smile at Vincenzo in return. Pride? Does a bastard spawn of a loose Iernian woman deserve to retain pride of any sort in the cruel Andreotti family? I begin making my way toward the banquet hall, which is brightly lit. As I walk past the shimmering waters of the pond in the family garden, I can tell that the waters are insanely cold. Then again, nothing is as cold as my icy heart right now. After taking a deep breath, I fall face-first into the pond… only to feel an iron-clad grip wrenching me backward. As such, I collapse onto the lawn heavily. My older brother, Alessandro Andreotti, has bits of grass covering his expensive suit. Disgust is written all over his handsome face. "Eva!" he grits out through his teeth, his voice lowered. "Must you spoil the mood on Emanuela's big day?" He then scoots closer to me, his alcohol-tinged breath fanning over my face. "You want to die, huh? Go ahead and do that, but can you die somewhere further? Don't stain the Andreotti land!" Alessandro turns to walk in the direction of the radiant lights, leaving me on the lawn, completely covered in mud. I can feel the countdown of my lifespan burning my insides. Seven days… I only have seven days to live. Meanwhile, my very own brother wants me to die somewhere further away.
Short Story · Mafia
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For His True Love, He Lost His Throne

For His True Love, He Lost His Throne

I gave up on my inheritance right during the time my love for Matteo Rossini ran the deepest. When I was about to leave, Papa looked at me before saying lightly, "I bet that you'll come home in three years." Back then, I didn't take his words to heart. After spending three years overcoming life's hurdles with Matteo, he finally becomes the Don of his family. On the day the inheritance party is to be held, I decide to wear a dress that I've treasured for a very long time but never had the heart to wear. But the moment I walk into the banquet hall, I see Matteo holding hands with a radiant young woman. She's Isabella Ginevra, a popular socialite in the elite society. Isabella flits among the guests charismatically, as though she were the lady of the house. She's capable of engaging in any conversational topic, be it finance strategies or channels to obtain firearms. I try to participate in a conversation, only for Isabella to cut me off with a titter. "I thought you've been spending the past few years being cooped up indoors. It turns out that you know a thing or two about these topics, huh?" Everyone around us falls silent for a brief moment. My expression freezes on my face. Then, I turn to look at Matteo subconsciously. But he doesn't even bother looking my way. Instead, he merely says softly, "We're talking business here, Bianca. You should sit with the other ladies." I clench my fists instantly. But in the end, I opt to not say anything and just walk away. Through the throngs of the guests, I can see Matteo and Isabella chatting animatedly with each other in low tones. For once, Matteo looks relaxed and at ease—an expression that I haven't seen for a long time. Suddenly, I hear a guest remarking, "If someone like Ms. Ginevra were to become the Donna, she'd be of great help to the Don." A chorus of agreements ring out around him. Matteo just smiles in return, though he doesn't deny that remark. In fact, he even toasts to Isabella and drinks to her in front of everyone. That's when I draw to my feet and walk over to snatch the glass out of his hand. "I think so too. In that case, she can have the position as the Donna, then."
Short Story · Mafia
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El Matrimonio Destinado a Otra

El Matrimonio Destinado a Otra

Mi esposo y yo éramos las dos almas que más se aborrecían en este mundo. Él me detestaba por haberlo arrebatado del lado de la mujer que amaba; y yo le guardaba rencor, pues su corazón permanecía cautivo de otra dama. Durante ocho años de matrimonio, las palabras que con mayor frecuencia cruzamos no fueron de afecto ni de deber, sino amargas maldiciones. No obstante, el día en que la ciudad sucumbió, todo cambió. Las banderas enemigas ya se divisaban más allá de la puerta interior. Él fue al frente y tomó el camino, interponiendo su cuerpo entre el acero enemigo y mi huida. —Vive —pronunció quedamente. Acto seguido, alzó su espada y no volvió la vista atrás. Las flechas cayeron cual lluvia inclemente. Mientras lo atacaban, volvió la cabeza una vez, solo una vez. Tras aquello, su cuerpo custodió el camino, y nada ni nadie logró cruzarla. —Si existe otra vida… ruego a su Alteza que me conceda la misericordia de pertenecerle a ella. Aquella noche, con la ciudad reducida a cenizas y el pueblo yacente o en fuga, subí a la torre más alta del palacio. Y salté al vacío. Cuando mis ojos volvieron a abrirse, me presenté ante el Rey. —Los reinos del norte requieren una desposada real —dije—. Yo iré. En esta vida, seré yo quien cruce la frontera. En mi vida anterior, él halló la muerte creyendo que le había fallado a ella. Esta vez, no permitiré que tal lamento exista. Tomaré el matrimonio destinado a ella. Portaré la corona labrada para su exilio. Caminaré hacia un destino que ella nunca debería padecer. Que ella siga aquí. Que él la proteja. Que él viva su vida creyendo que, finalmente, ha cumplido su promesa.
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Après j'ai coupé mon lien avec Alpha, il a regretté

Après j'ai coupé mon lien avec Alpha, il a regretté

Depuis que j'étais petite, je savais que mon futur compagnon serait l'un des deux candidats à l'Alpha : Michaud ou Rivière. Même avec toute leur fierté d'Alpha, je n'ai jamais douté de cet avenir. Les anciens de la meute disaient toujours qu'il était naturel pour les candidats à l'Alpha de se concentrer sur la force et le contrôle de la meute. Ma mère, Lydia, m'a même dit qu'ils se battaient pour être les vainqueurs de chaque bataille brutale, afin de pouvoir me donner, à moi, leur Luna, l'honneur ultime... Jusqu'à ce que moi et Yasmine, cette Oméga errante qu'ils avaient recueillie, tombions dans une embuscade et soyons capturées par nos vieux ennemis : la meute d'Ombre de Nuit. Michaud et Rivière n'avaient assez d'Herbe de Pétale de Lune pour l'une d'entre nous. Et ils ont tous deux choisi de la donner à Yasmine. Pour me sauver dans cet incendie, j'ai forcé une transformation. La poussée d'énergie a été trop forte, la chaleur m'a tordu la pommette, et juste comme ça, j'ai été défigurée. Ils m'ont sortie de là comme s'ils ne se souvenaient de moi qu'après coup, puis j'ai regardé ces deux futurs Alphas pleurer sur Yasmine, qui n'avait pas une égratignure sur elle. « Grâce à la Déesse de la Lune, Yasmine, tu es vivante. » « Une fois que nous aurons déterminé qui sera le nouvel Alpha de Bois Noir, on te donnera la place la plus honorable, juste en dessous de la Luna, Yasmine, ne t'inquiète pas, nous te donnerons le meilleur de tout ce que notre meute a, et nous nous assurerons que tu ne souffres plus jamais. » « Yasmine, tu es la vraie Luna dans nos cœurs. » Quand j'ai repris mes esprits, j'ai rompu pour de bon ce ridicule lien de compagnon. Des promesses vides et un destin piétiné ? J'en avais assez. Mais après mon départ, ils sont restés près de ma grotte tous les jours, me suppliant de revenir.
Short Story · Loup-garou
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Forced Into a Fake Marriage? But Uncle, Your Best Friend Made It Real

Forced Into a Fake Marriage? But Uncle, Your Best Friend Made It Real

On the eve of the SATs, Sasha Lane’s diary got leaked. Every private thought she had ever hidden about her uncle, Gabriel Quinn, was dragged into the open. Humiliated. Picked apart in public. She was forced to give up the exam. Sent overseas like an exile. After that, she was branded shameless, trashy, and completely out of line. Those accusations followed her everywhere. Years passed. No matter how hard she worked, she could never shake the weight of that judgment. Even after getting into a top global university. Even after becoming a rising star in pharmaceutical research. In the end, they still pushed her toward a stable civil service job, like none of her accomplishments meant a thing. Then came the scandal. A rumor about an illegitimate child exploded overnight. For the sake of his reputation and future, Gabriel forced her into a marriage with the most powerful heir in the city, Sebastian York. Gabriel told her, “Sebastian isn’t interested in you. He only agreed to a fake marriage to deal with his family. Once things calm down, you’ll divorce.” That was the moment her heart finally went cold. She didn’t owe him anything anymore. At City Hall, Sebastian York, a man infamous for his ruthless reputation, handed Sasha his medical report. “Everything checks out. No problem consummating the marriage.” Sasha looked him over, then shrugged. “Fine. You’re this good-looking. I’m not exactly losing out.” Sasha thought Sebastian wasn’t interested in her. She was wrong. After they got married, all it took was one extra look, and something in him snapped. He treated her like his wife in public. In private, he was anything but restrained. Every touch was slow, deliberate, and dangerously tempting. He knew exactly how to get under her skin. Knew exactly how to pull her in. Before she realized what was happening, she was already in too deep. Later, Sasha posted her pregnancy update on social media. Gabriel dropped his speech mid-event and walked out without a word. He drove through a storm just to find her. Soaked to the bone, he blurted out, his voice shaking. “Sasha… divorce him. Come home with me.” Back when she loved him, he didn’t care. Now that he finally wanted her, she had nothing left to give. On the other side of a closed door, Sebastian had her pinned against him, his hand locked around her waist as he kissed her until she could barely breathe. His palm slid over her stomach, his voice low and rough, coaxing. “Be good. Let him hear you.” She was the woman he had fought to claim. And anyone who thought they could take her away? Dream on!
Romance
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Alpha regrette d'avoir choisi sa belle-sœur

Alpha regrette d'avoir choisi sa belle-sœur

Cinq années s'étaient écoulées depuis que mon compagnon Adam Chauvin m'avait secrètement marquée. Son frère, l'Alpha de la tribu d'Ombre Lunaire, est mort dans la guerre territoriale. Pour devenir le nouvel Alpha de l'Ombre Lunaire, Adam a hérité de tout ce que son défunt frère a laissé derrière lui. Y compris sa belle-sœur veuve, Victoria. Après chaque nuit passée dans le lit de Victoria, Adam me serrait contre lui en me disant des paroles rassurantes : « Léa, patiente encore un peu. Dès que Victoria sera enceinte, nous aurons notre cérémonie d'union ! » C'était la seule condition imposée par la tribu pour qu'il puisse hériter du titre d'Alpha. Au cours des six mois écoulés depuis son retour sur le territoire de l'Ombre Lunaire, Adam s'était rendu d'innombrables fois dans la chambre de Victoria. Enfin, après d'innombrables nuits passées jusqu'à l'aube, la nouvelle est tombée : Victoria était enceinte. Mais cette nouvelle s'accompagnait d'une autre – Adam et Victoria allaient tenir leur cérémonie d'union. « Maman, il y aura une cérémonie d'union ici ? » a demandé ma fille. J'ai regardé autour de moi. Le grand hall était rempli de fleurs et de ballons. Dehors, des gens s'affairaient joyeusement à faire des préparatifs de la cérémonie d'union. J'ai serré ma fille dans mes bras : « Oui, ma chérie. Ton père va tenir une cérémonie d'union avec celle qu'il aime, ce qui signifie qu'il est temps pour nous de partir. » Adam ne savait pas que, dans la tribu de Nouvelle lune Argentée, nous ne nous préoccupions pas des soi-disant cérémonies d'union. Chez nous, les louves étaient vénérées. Ma mère était l'Alpha actuelle, et il me suffisait de donner naissance à une héritière pour lui succéder. J'ai composé un numéro que je n'avais pas appelé depuis cinq ans : « Mère, j'ai maintenant une héritière. Je suis prête à rentrer à la maison pour réclamer ta place d'Alpha. »
Short Story · Loup-garou
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