Male Character Names

Blaire was out on a cruise with her family for the first time. However, due to a certain circumstance, the moment she opened her eyes, she arrived in the world of novel as Victoria Nightingale, the Forgotten Princess of the Kristania Empire. In order for Blaire to go back to her world, she must fulfill the conditions Victoria set before her: Win her father's love and make herself as the Empress. As a side character, it is completely impossible to change the flow of the story unless she becomes a villainess who breaks her miserable and cruel fate. Upon meeting the 2nd Male Lead of the novel, an idea crossed her mind. "If you agree to the contract, I will become your temporary wife and together, we will kill the Emperor!" Will Blaire succeed and be able to go back to her world?

It is said that there will be a time when a great and powerful Alpha shall grace the Werewolf World. Not many will know the Alpha's true identity, and no-one knows whether the Alpha will be male or female. The Alpha will be very influential and they will be respected by all, royals and councils included. They will also be granted a soul mate that will love them until the end of time and share in their power. They will first go through trials and tribulations to test them, but should they succeed, they will stand tall as the rightful Alpha they are meant to be.

The BTGs hardly get their feet wet in life as graduates before they are summoned once again for a new case. New love shows up for some. I can't believe what I'm being told. Why am I here? Each character goes through their own growth, but life is never predictable. Why does history repeat itself? Such anger, such hatred, is she really gone? You will have to read it to find out in my latest book.

I find cigarette ashes on the passenger seat of my wife's car. She brushes me off, saying, "My new assistant left it there. He's not the most sensible." When I ask for a divorce, she stares at me in disbelief. "Just because of that?" "Yeah. Just because of that!"

Keaton Rourke and I get in a car accident. My liver ruptures, and I'm drenched in my blood. Teresa Bellamy, my wife, leaves me to die and runs off to save Keaton, who only has a scratch on his forehead. I'm unconscious and clinging to life in the emergency room, but Teresa fusses over how to keep Keaton's forehead from getting a scar. I wake up feeling nothing but disappointment and toss the divorce papers right in her face. She rips the divorce papers to pieces like a lunatic and makes it clear that divorce will only happen over her dead body. I used to bend over backward to make her happy. Now I'm ready to divorce her, no matter what it takes.

I've been in a coma for six months after a car accident. When I finally wake up, the first thing I hear is something sloppy in my hospital ward. My girlfriend, Quinn Simpson, is in here. She's kissing Chad Scott, her true love. Chad looks uneasy as he glances at me every few seconds. "Quinn, don't do this. I heard coma patients can still hear things. If Mateo hears us—" Quinn scoffs, completely unbothered. "So what? He's a vegetable. Probably won't wake up for the rest of his life. It's better this way, isn't it? Didn't you say you liked living on the edge?" They talk trash about me right in front of my face. I can even feel the contempt in Quinn's eyes. When the two of them finally leave, they don't notice the effort it takes for me to crack my eyes open. But the nurse who walks in next does. She sees it immediately and slams the emergency button. Once I start regaining strength, the first thing I do is send a message to my parents. "Mom, Dad, I'll do the arranged marriage."

To "fix" Leonard Rinehart's oh-so-tragic depression, Naomi Gaffron—yeah, the same girl who once swore she'd only ever marry me—secretly tied the knot with him. So I gave in. Played along with the family's little matchmaking stunt. Married Aurelia Spencer—Brieton City's golden girl who'd been obsessed with me since forever. For seven years, she clung to me like I was oxygen. Every night, curled up like she'd break if I moved. I thought that was happiness. Then one night, I caught her whispering to her best friend: "Leonard's already got international awards. When are you dumping Leone?" "Whatever—I'm stuck with someone I don't love anyway. Doesn't matter who I married. Someone's gotta keep an eye on Leone so he doesn't screw up everything Leonard built." I checked her study. Found a hidden folder—over 100,000 photos of Leonard. A hundred unsent love letters. Even I couldn't fake it anymore. Bought a silicone dummy. Laid out the plan. The fire would be step one. Dead or alive—we're done.

On the way to the airport, a Valterra tried to cut me off. After overtaking, he kept blocking my way. Since I was running late and did not want trouble, I chose to tolerate it. However, my tolerance only made him even more aggressive. In less than a hundred meters, he cut me off five times. I could not take it anymore and decided to call the police. But as I was reading his license plate to the officer, I snapped and slammed my foot on the gas. Blood rushed to my face when I realized that this Valterra was the birthday present my wife had asked me for just last week.

It is the night before our wedding when my fiancee, Whitney Sullivan, reunites with her childhood sweetheart, Steven Foster, a mercenary who has been missing for five years. He is brought to our doorstep by his teammates, bloodied and barely clinging to life after being poisoned with a deadly aphrodisiac on a mission. Whitney, usually so aloof and controlled, immediately breaks down. She locks the door, defying my efforts to stop her, and stays with Steven all night long. I choose to stay outside the door, never closing my eyes. I confront her the following morning with a torrent of accusations, only for her to stand in front of Steven protectively and say shamelessly, "I couldn't just stand by and watch Steven die. Isn't it just my virginity? What's the harm in letting loose the night before the wedding?" In that instant, all my affection for her is utterly destroyed.

After my fiancée returned from six months of traveling with her childhood friend, she realized I had changed. For his sake, she broke protocol and promoted him to be the CEO's personal assistant. I obediently stepped aside and gave up my position. When he took over the project I had spent three sleepless months completing, I handed it over without a fight. My fiancée found my sudden compliance strange. Her childhood friend, on the other hand, was smug about it. He said with a grin, "Looks like your cold treatment finally worked. If you want him to behave, you just have to train him like a dog." My heart was calm and unmoved as I listened to their conversation. No one knew that I had been reborn. No one knew that I had finally accepted the truth: she never loved me from the start. No matter how reluctant I felt, from this moment on, I would cut ties with her completely. One clean break, free of all entanglements.