Novel & Cerita Meet Me Underneath The Mistletoe

On the flight to Arlencia, a post popped up: [What's it like to have sex in a wedding dress?] The pic showed a girl yanking some guy's purple tie while he hiked up her gown. His face was blurred, but hers? Straight-up blissed out. Everyone in the comments was swooning over how in love they looked. I didn't swoon. I froze. Because that purple tie? I gave it to Zeke Santoro, my fiancé, a few days ago. And that wedding dress? The exact custom one he had made for me. There was only one. I kept zooming in, heart racing, until I spotted a family photo in the background. My hands were shaking when I called him. "I wanna see the dress," I said. He hesitated. "It's at the studio getting final touches. Not with me right now. I'll show it to you later." I just smiled and hung up. That was all I needed. Zeke cheated—and the girl? His stepsister, Jella. Total circus. I reopened the post and shot her a DM: [Your wedding dress is stunning. I have the same one.]

On my girlfriend's birthday, I was in the middle of preparing a surprise for her when the property management office of our marital home called first. "Sir, we've received a complaint from another resident," the staff member said. "They claim there's been… quite a bit of noise coming from your unit at night. From you and your wife." I frowned. The only person I had given a key to that apartment was my girlfriend. I called her immediately. She answered with a soft, teasing tone, "They must have made a mistake. I'm at my best friend's place." "Alright," I said evenly. "Enjoy yourself." After hanging up, I opened the smart home system without hesitation and remotely locked every door and window from the outside. Then I dialed the police. "Hello, I'd like to report an unlawful entry."

Ever since we brought our six-year-old daughter, Elise, home, she's been keeping her distance. My husband, Patrick Sheeter, chalked it up to "adjustment issues." Told me to bring her more gifts when I got back from my overseas trip. I was halfway out the door when I heard her voice in my head. 'Should I tell Mom that Della always hits me? 'Dad says Mom hates tattletales. Especially me. 'But if I keep quiet, I might not make it till Mom gets back.' My stomach flipped. I turned around. Elise was curled up in the corner, eyes glassy with tears. Silent. But I still heard her. 'Maybe I lived again just to see Mom one more time.' Patrick, noticing I was frozen, casually reminded me I was gonna miss my flight. Right. Like that mattered. I turned and slapped him so hard. Screw the business trip. I was staying. Let's see who's got the guts to mess with my kid now.

Catalina Dela Vega, a woman who buried by debt. She needs a huge amount of funds to pay the capital amount she owes from the loan sharks. She had no parents and friends to asked for help, so in order to survive, she have to take a risk by dealing with a Mafia boss, Rostam Lombardi. Calm with a sadistic personality but he's willing to give all her needs in exchange for a one night stand and by giving him a child. Being a desperate woman, she agreed by dealing with the most influential person of the Mafia. However, she immediately regretted her words when accidentally heard that they will dispose her after he get what he wants from her. She run for her life without knowing that she's already have a fetus inside her womb.

I have spent ten years fighting against the fake heiress, Cynthia Powell, to secure the Powell family's inheritance. Eventually, we both set our sights on the eldest son of the wealthy Wright family, Robin Wright. In my first life, I secure the marriage, but on the very night the shares are transferred to my name, I die a gruesome death. Blood seeps from my eyes and mouth as I collapse. As I lie there dying, Robin calmly wipes the poisonous powder from his fingertips and smiles at me. "My apologies, Kathy Powell. You have to die for the sake of the woman I truly love." I repeatedly curse Cynthia in my heart. In my second life, I am determined to avoid being murdered by Cynthia and her lover. So, I pass the marriage opportunity over to Cynthia. On their wedding day, I'm relaxing at home with a face mask when the police burst through my door and handcuff me. "Cynthia's car was firebombed on the way to the wedding ceremony, and she was burned to a crisp. We found your fingerprints on the fuel tank. You're under arrest for arson and murder. Please come with us," the police orders. The news shocks me. I'm sentenced to death, all thanks to Robin's manipulation. When I wake up, I'm in my third life. After seeing the Wright family's marriage proposal on the table, Cynthia and I take a step back. A chill runs down both our spines. Robin is a curse. How is it that whoever marries him ends up dead?

On the fifth day after I get born into this world, my biological mother chooses to abandon me. But I'm not sure what she's thinking when she's picking out the location, for she actually abandons me at the entrance of the Bianco family. When the beautiful women of the family notice me, they are quick to frown. "Why don't we take him in?" Since then, I have 109 sisters in my family. At home, I'm the bratty ruler among my sisters. In order not to cause them any trouble, I've been leading a normal life for more than a dozen years. That is, until I've encountered bullying in high school. Giovanni Rossi, a rich student, has me cornered in the washroom with his lackeys flanking him. Not only do they dump cold water on me and tear my clothes off me, but they also use their phones to take pictures of my face. "What are you glaring at, huh? You're just a low-income student, so why are you still putting on airs around us? As if a piece of trash like you can ever get into college!" But since the beating I've received is far too brutal, so I holler at the top of my lungs as I yank Giovanni and jump off the third floor with him. When I wake up, Marcella Greco, the school's nurse, berates me angrily. "All Giovanni did is beat you up, and yet you're already planning to kill him, huh? Shouldn't you be reflecting on yourself when others scold and lay a finger on you? How dare you plot revenge against him instead! "I want you to summon your guardian here right away! If you can't do that by today, you can forget about leaving!" All of my hair stands on end as soon as I hear the command. Weakly, I ask, "Are you sure you want to meet my guardians, Ms. Greco?"

My wife has a severe sex addiction. But in the seven years we've been married, she never lets me touch her. To suppress her urges, she spends all day submerged in ice-cold water, and her arms are covered in needle marks. Several times, I try to initiate intimacy out of concern for her, but her reaction is terrifying. She even threatens to kill herself. "I told you, I only want a Platonic relationship in this lifetime. Can you stop being so selfish? If you insist on making me do that, I'd rather die!" she exclaims. She maintains this unusual obsession for seven years. Even after ending up in the hospital multiple times from suppressing her desires, she refuses to cross that line. Then, on our wedding anniversary, a man comes in for a pre-check of his phalloplasty enlargement for the ninth time. After the anesthesia takes effect, he begins rambling incoherently. "Honey, I love you so much." Looking at the surgical scars, I shake my head, thinking this guy is really willing to go to extreme lengths for his wife. Then, I hear his final murmur. "Tasha, aren't I so much better compared to your useless husband?" My hand jerks, and I nearly drop the scalpel. It is because my wife's name is Tasha Snyder.

I was Bloodthorn Pack's weakest omega—rejected, betrayed, and sold at an underground auction. My fated mate spat, "You're not worthy to be my Luna."My adoptive parents auctioned me via forced contract to settle their debts. My “best friend” drugged me for a one-night bidding war, laughing as prices soared.On the night I died, the truth hit: switched at birth, I was a cursed hybrid princess stolen from royalty—hidden to be used and discarded.Reborn three years earlier, I make a new vow: no more victims.Reject the mate. Burn the contract. Avenge every betrayal. Unravel my lost memories, hidden bloodline, and death-defying curse.Then four alphas find me—Crown Prince (ice-veined), General (battle-scarred), Pack Judge (unbeatable), Rogue King (cursed wolf). All whisper, “Sister?”From auction trash to lost princess of the continent’s fiercest bloodline—with four overprotective brothers ready to raze worlds for me.But fate twists again: a rival pack’s twin heirs—midnight cold and sunrise warm—share my unique mate mark. One soul. Two bodies.Enemies before. Salvation now… or final doom?Betrayed. Sold. Reborn. No begging for love this time. Meet my brothers first—then decide if you want their princess as prey… or as queen.

"I'll pay you $3,000, Megan. Please ruin my blind date tonight." Ruining a blind date should have been easy. Megan needed the money, and the offer landed in her lap.  Why would she refuse?  One blind date with a rich, arrogant brat seemed like a piece of cake. It was until she cashed the check after successfully ruining the date, paid her tuition, and walked into her first college class. For their first group project, she and her classmates were assigned to work with the Vancleaf hockey team. And there he was. The same rich, arrogant brat she humiliated during the date. Worse, Vinn Graham has been looking for her. He didn’t forget the alien names she called him, and now that she’s on his team, where he’s captain, he promised to make her life a living hell. He promised her hell, but his gaze said the opposite. When he offered to be her fake boyfriend so her crush would notice her, things spiraled. Every stolen glance, every lingering touch, every kiss felt too real and tasted like paradise. Can Megan trust an arrogant trust-fund kid with her heart?

After Ryan Spencer cheated on me again with his secretary, I completely lost it. When my mind started to spiral, I grabbed the fruit knife off the table. I just wanted it to end. “Why are you hurting yourself again? He doesn’t love you anymore?” I looked up. The sixteen-year-old Ryan was walking toward me, heartbreak written all over his face. His voice was gentle. “Tell me who he is. I’ll make him pay.” I stared into the bright, earnest eyes of the boy standing in front of me. I didn’t say a word. I simply lifted my hand and pointed at his face. Later, Ryan was the one who had me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. When the sedative began to wear off, the teenage boy appeared again, sitting by my bed. He stared at the man outside who looked just like him. The light in his eyes faded little by little. Then he spoke, his voice strained. “I don’t care who he is. I’ll kill him.” The sixteen-year-old Ryan never lied to me. When he said something, he meant it.