Macam Macam Kain Silk

I worked at a sales job and felt pretty good about my work. Then, Vivian appeared. She was a new intern with an insatiable curiosity for others’ private affairs. On Valentine’s Day, my husband, Henry Ambrose, bought a million dollars’ worth of bags from me to help me meet my sales target. Just as I left work to meet him for a date, Vivian sent a snide message. [Your Fitbit just logged an extra thousand steps. That’s literally the exact distance to the hotel next door. Nice work, Lily! You close a million-dollar deal and immediately head to the hotel with the client?] I coldly fired back, [If you’re this desperate to stalk people, you should’ve just joined the K-9 unit.] That very night, parcels of adult toys appeared on my doorstep. Vivian had written a nasty post that had gone viral, and things turned out like this! [This Salesgirl Slept With My Client and Stole My Million-Dollar Commission on Valentine’s Day!] A pair of my ripped silk stockings, which I had tossed in the trash, became her “proof” that I had seduced a client during work hours. Vivian was painted as the victim, while I was viciously smeared as a “salesgirl who slept with clients for commissions.” What Vivian did not know was that Henry was actually a leading researcher worth billions. I only took the sales job because I was bored and wanted to experience something new.

Jendela rumahku gemetar oleh kekuatan guntur yang bergemuruh di langit. Petir menyambar di kejauhan, menerangi malam. Dalam momen kecil itu, beberapa detik cahaya yang membutakan mata menampilkan sosok pria yang berdiri di luar jendelaku. Memperhatikanku. Selalu memperhatikanku. Aku menjalani rutinitas, seperti yang selalu kulakukan. Jantungku berdegup kencang dan berdetak tidak teratur, napasku menjadi dangkal, dan tangan-tanganku menjadi lembab. Tidak peduli berapa kali aku melihatnya, dia selalu menimbulkan reaksi yang sama dariku. Ketakutan, Dan kegembiraan. Aku tidak tahu mengapa hal itu membuatku merasa gembira. Ada yang salah dengan diriku. Tidak normal bagi panas cairan untuk mengalir dalam pembuluh darahku, meninggalkan sensasi terbakar di belakangnya. Tidak biasa bagi pikiranku untuk mulai merenung tentang hal-hal yang seharusnya tidak aku pikirkan. Apakah dia bisa melihatku sekarang? Mengenakan hanya atasan tipis, puting susuku menonjol melalui kain? Atau celana pendek yang kupakai yang hampir tidak menutupi pantatku? Apakah dia suka pemandangan ini? Tentu saja dia suka. Itulah mengapa dia memperhatikanku, bukan begitu? Itulah mengapa dia kembali setiap malam, semakin berani dengan tatapannya sementara aku diam-diam menantangnya. Berharap dia mendekat, sehingga aku punya alasan untuk menempelkan pisau ke lehernya. Sejujurnya, aku takut padanya. Sungguh takut. Tapi pria yang berdiri di luar jendelaku membuatku merasa seolah-olah aku duduk di dalam ruangan gelap, satu lampu menyala dari televisi di mana film horor diputar di layar. Itu sangat menakutkan, dan yang aku inginkan hanyalah bersembunyi, tetapi ada bagian dari diriku yang membuatku tetap diam, membuka diri pada ketakutan. Menemukan sensasi kecil dari situ. Sekarang kembali gelap, dan petir menyambar di daerah yang lebih jauh.

Saat Keluarga Gunawan hampir bangkrut, pasangan suami istri dari Grup Gunawan datang meminta nikah bisnis. Ayahku kasihan melihatku mencintai Sienzo Gunawan selama 10 tahun, jadi dia menyelamatkan Keluarga Gunawan dengan menginvestasi sebesar 20 trilun dan menikahkan aku ke sana. Pada malam pernikahan kami, Sienzo menutup mataku dengan kain merah, lalu memaksaku bercinta berkali-kali dengan kasar. Satu bulan kemudian, aku membawa hasil tes kehamilan dengan senang untuk menemuinya. Tapi aku malah mendengar dia sedang taruhan dengan temannya, “Silvia sudah ditiduri oleh belasan orang. Menurut kalian, siapa ayah dari anak yang dihamilinya?” Teman-temannya pada tertawa, lalu berkata, “Tuan Sienzo, aku cuman menidurinya tiga kali. Nggak mungkin punyaku, ‘kan?” “Menurutku, Ajahar sangat hebat. Malam itu, Silvia hampir gila dibuatnya. Aku bertaruh 200 juta! Itu pasti anaknya!” Aku baru tahu, ternyata orang yang tidur bersamaku di malam pernikahan bukanlah Sienzo, melainkan belasan temannya. Aku menyerbu masuk sambil mengamuk kayak orang gila, tapi Sienzo malah tampak acuh tak acuh, “Ngapain nangis? Waktu itu, kalau bukan keluargamu mengancamku dengan investasi dan membuat Tina pergi, aku nggak akan memperlakukanmu seperti ini.” “Dengar baik-baik, aku baru akan berhenti saat Tina mau maafkan aku.” Aku meminta cerai dengan putus asa, tapi dia malah mengancamku dengan video malam itu dan mengurungku di ruang bawah tanah, “Jangan buru-buru pergi. Kami masih lagi taruhan siapa ayah si anak haram ini.” Delapan bulan kemudian, aku mati bersama bayi saat persalinan sulit di ruang bawah tanah. Saat aku bangun kembali, aku hidup kembali pada hari di mana Keluarga Gunawan memohon pada ayahku untuk berinvestasi dan nikah bisnis itu. Kali ini, Sienzo menangis pada malam pernikahanku.

He stole the wrong girl. Or maybe… she chose the right king. Dante Valenti rules his empire with cold precision and a reputation soaked in blood. No one crosses him. No one deceives him. And no one escapes him. So when he kidnaps a woman from the Moretti estate—a trembling little princess meant to be leverage—he expects fear. Instead, the woman chained in his basement looks him dead in the eyes… and smiles. Aria Moretti has spent years hiding behind silk dresses and a porcelain mask, pretending to be the quiet, obedient daughter of the Moretti crime family. But beneath the pretty facade lies a secret no one suspects: She is the Moretti’s most lethal weapon. A phantom. A blade disguised as a flower. And she walked willingly into the lion’s den for one reason— to kill Dante Valenti. Her mission is simple: Get captured. Get close. Get his trust. End the king. But nothing about Dante is simple. The moment he discovers who she truly is, he doesn’t kill her. He claims her. "You came to kill me, little killer... but every king needs a queen.” Now, Aria is caught in a deadly dance between loyalty and desire, betrayal and obsession. Dante matches her darkness note for note—twisted, brilliant, and devastatingly irresistible. He should be her target. Instead, he’s becoming her temptation. And the deeper she falls, the clearer the truth becomes: She isn’t the only weapon in this war. Dante has claws of his own— and he’s willing to use every one of them to keep her.

“I know you’re pregnant, Valentina. That’s why you have to die tonight. Two lives for the price of one. Efficiency was always my strong suit.” On her third wedding anniversary, Valentina is gifted a shallow grave. Her husband, Kennedy, was never a billionaire. He was a fraud who drugged her, watched her drown in a poisoned bath, and buried her so he could marry his mistress. He never expected the gardener to hesitate. Never imagined she would claw her way out of the mud, pregnant, broken, and alive. And he certainly didn’t expect her to return. Dragged from the storm by Ian Kingston, a titan so powerful Kennedy is nothing more than a disposable employee, Valentina finds herself mistaken for Misha, Ian’s vanished wife. “You have 365 days to prove you aren’t her, little bird. Until then, you wear my name, share my bed, and follow my rules.” Trapped in a ruthless case of mistaken identity, Valentina signs the contract and becomes Misha Kingston, cold, untouchable, wrapped in emerald silk and Ian’s dangerous protection. The next time Kennedy sees the wife he buried, she isn’t in a coffin. She’s on his boss’s arm. Wearing a crown. Looking down at him from a throne he can never touch. But Valentina hides a child conceived by her enemy… While being claimed by a king who refuses to let her go. He buried a wife. Now he’ll kneel before a goddess.

Just a moment ago, after nearly bleeding to death, I gave the Rossi family their heir. But my husband, Carter, the Rossi's underboss, let his confidante, Sofia, film me giving birth just because she said she was bored. She captured everything: me losing control of my body, my screams, my face twisted in agony. Afterward, she took screenshots, turned them into memes, and passed them around a private group chat for the family's inner circle. Through the door of my hospital room, I could hear Sofia's wild laughter. "Carter, this is the best entertainment all year. You always know just what I want." "But Sloane's going to throw a fit when she wakes up and sees it." The anesthesia hadn't worn off yet. My eyelids were heavy, and through the haze, I heard Carter's usual, nonchalant tone. "She won't get really mad. You know Sloane. She always does what I tell her." "I'll just have to sweet-talk her a little. Besides, with the heir here now, she wouldn't leave me." My fingers, hidden beneath the silk sheets, clenched into a fist. My mind flooded with everything I had given up for him over the years. Carter had probably forgotten who made him the man who runs these streets. Since you love games so much, I'll play a real one with you. The day I walk away, you will all regret it.

“If you leave this palace tonight, you become prey” Lyra Vale got rejected by her fated mate like yesterday’s trash, hauled into enemy land, and turned into the single most lethal prize a blood-soaked kingdom has ever drooled over. In Dravenhold they don’t chain prisoners. They drape them in silk that costs more than most packs see in a lifetime and call them queen. Kael Draven, the Enemy King, had every reason to slit her throat the second she hit his dirt. Instead he put his mouth to her ear and claimed her protection. Claimed her. Now the whole damn continent whispers the same filthy truth: her blood can make kings. Or drown them. The past won’t stay buried. Rowan, the Alpha who ripped her heart out to “save his people,” creeps back through the shadows with one desperate, cocky demand: come back to me. Stay here and she becomes Kael’s living blade, soaked in power and whatever else he decides to take from her body. Leave, and she lights the match that turns every pack into smoking graves. One man wants her soul to rule with. The other already shattered it and still thinks he deserves the pieces. Lyra’s done being the girl who waits to be chosen. In a world where power gets ripped out of throats, not politely handed over… she isn’t prey anymore. She’s the f*cking throne. And she’s deciding who bleeds for the right to sit on it.

She’s a princess. She’s a weapon. She’s the illegitimate daughter no one was supposed to need. For millenia, peace between supernatural kingdoms has been maintained by a brutal tradition: the Bride Swap. An elven princess for a foreign king. Ten years of marriage to buy one hundred and ninety years of fragile silence. This year, the elves must give a bride to the werewolves. Princess Alicia Sunblade was never meant to be the chosen one. Wild, sharp-tongued, and dangerously gifted by both the goddess of war and the goddess of love, she lives in quiet exile from a father who rules with manipulation and fear. But when her king threatens the one person she loves most, Alicia is forced into an arranged marriage with Alpha Rocco Silvermane — the powerful, feared King of Wolfsreach. Elves and werewolves are natural enemies. Their borders bleed tension. Their histories drip with blood. Rocco is everything Alicia was raised to despise: dominant, ruthless, physically overwhelming — and politically untouchable. Yet he has his own kingdom to protect, his own factions to appease, and his own reasons for accepting the swap. Two rulers. Two unwilling sacrifices. One treaty balanced on a knife’s edge. But Alicia isn’t a lamb being led to slaughter. She is a strategist. A seductress blessed by divine persuasion. A warrior hiding behind silk and ceremony. If her father thinks he’s sending her away to be controlled, he may have just delivered his greatest weapon straight into enemy hands. Because if Alicia is going to be traded… She won’t just survive the wolves. She might just make their king kneel.

I pushed the door open and saw Giovanna standing there in my silk robe—my gift from Enzo—and wearing my heirloom pendant. She lifted a brow and mocked me, “The robe fits, the pendant’s mine, and you—get out.” I grabbed Enzo, demanding an explanation, but he shoved a fake contract in my face, saying, “You signed it.” “I did not. Stop lying!” I snapped. He snapped at me, “This is family business. You know nothing.” It seemed three years together was nothing but an act. That very night, I ran away to Milan. I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to until Mark showed up out of nowhere. “Don’t be scared,” he said. “I’ve got you. As long as I’m around, no one touches you.” He protected me, and for a moment, I really thought I’d finally found someone I could rely on. However, when we were practicing at the shooting range later, I stared at him. “Why are you helping me?” I asked. “And don’t tell me it’s because of that mess I left behind.” His eyes flickered for a second before he answered, “Just trust me. That’s all you need to do.” Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist. This whole disaster was all one giant setup. And now here I am, gripping a gun, fighting for justice, but am I really avenging myself? Or was I already someone else’s pawn from the very beginning?

VOWS WRITTEN IN SILENCE “I told myself she was a distraction. I was wrong. She’s the only thing that matters.” Raiyan Al Mansoor built an empire on iron-clad discipline and cold restraint. He believed love was a hollow ache—until a chaotic spill at Heathrow brought him face-to-face with Zoya Roseanne Fayez. She was a glitch in his perfect system. A girl with a sharp mouth, steady eyes, and a silence that felt like a challenge. Raiyan walked away telling himself it was nothing. He lied. When she reappeared at his family gala, laughing like she’d always belonged there, the quiet in Raiyan’s soul turned dangerous. He didn't just agree to this "strategic" marriage; he ensured it. He closed the distance before she could even see him coming. But Zoya is a riddle he can’t solve. She moves like a secret and speaks like a poem. She thinks she’s in control, choosing where to stand and who to trust. She has no idea she’s a hidden heiress to a fortune that has shadows moving in the desert—or that she’s already been marked by enemies she doesn't know she has. Zoya is an enigma wrapped in silk and defiance. And Raiyan? He’s a man losing his mind trying to protect a woman who doesn't think she needs a savior. The vows are written. The silence is loaded. And the most dangerous part isn’t the threat outside... it’s the moment Raiyan stops pretending he can ever let her go.