Romans & histoires My Holy Weapon

As soon as I got my driver's license, I immediately went to the hospital to have my corneas removed. In my previous life, on the first day of the semester, my boyfriend's childhood friend secretly took my car and drove three other students to a shopping mall near the college. She sped through red lights and killed a pregnant woman and an elderly person. However, the three students testified that I was the one who ran those people over and then fled the scene. When the police arrested me, I desperately explained that it was her who was driving the car. However, she threw herself into my boyfriend's arms and said with great grievance, "Jade, I know you don't like me, but you can't frame me like that!" Fred took out the dashcam from my car. The video showed that I was the one driving the car, killing the people, and fleeing in a panic. "Instead of repenting, you're trying to push the blame onto someone else." After seeing this, the victim's family members were enraged and stabbed me 18 times. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day before my boyfriend's childhood friend took my car.

WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS MATURE THEMES, FORBIDDEN OBSESSION, EXPLICIT SCENES. READER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED. “Tell me you want me to fuck you with my fingers. Tell me you want to come on my hand like a good little slut.” The words sent a jolt of heat straight to my core. I should have been ashamed, should have pushed him away—but the way he touched me, the rough need in his voice, it was too much. “Yes,” I gasped. “Please—” He groaned, his fingers sliding inside me, curling to hit that spot that made me see stars. “That’s it, slut,” he murmured, his lips trailing down my neck. “Ride my fingers. Let me feel how wet you are for me.” “Yes, daddy.” **** Elara Voss was betrayed by her ex-boyfriend and couldn’t bear the humiliation, so she ran from the pack. Two years later, she’s forced to return. But this time, she came back stronger, sharper… Ready to never trust a man again. Until she meets built-like-a-god of lust, Alpha Damon Crassus… her ex’s father. Damon Crassus isn't just an Alpha; he is a monolith of raw power and refined sin. While her ex was a spark, Damon is the inferno, a man with hands that look like they could either crush a throat or worship a body with terrifying precision. The pull is instant, impossible, and dangerous. She shouldn’t want him. She shouldn’t even look at him. Yet every instinct, every heartbeat, screams otherwise. Elara will discover the pack is no longer the same. So does she. And the closer she gets to Alpha Damon Crassus, the more she understands… Some men don’t break your heart. They ruin you slowly—until walking away is no longer an option.

Failing my audition, I gave up on the dream of singing and was at the lowest point of my whole existence. At that time an angel came to me, giving me confidence... After three months, returning to normality, I started getting ahead in my life, leaving everything of my past behind. Never in my senses did I expect that my job will be to assist the person who saved me. Wow… Seems like an angelic romance book right? No, nothing is like the way you see it. The angel I had expected to be good was a lion in a sheep's form. He was the worst person I could see in my entire life. ************* The first time I met him, he was the light to my darkness. But the second time, he was the darkness himself? What the hell?

My husband, Joaquin Landon, is a renowned wax sculptor. He hangs up on me when I call him to save my life so he can focus on the wax sculpture his cousin wants. Amphetamine is injected into my system, so my mind is clear as I watch my nails get removed one by one. Every inch of my skin is covered in burning hot wax. My hair and lashes are plucked off, and my organs are ground. Steel pipes are inserted into my legs, and I'm turned into a wax sculpture. Joaquin sees me during an exhibition. His colleague tells him that the wax sculpture he sees looks eerily like me, but he merely looks disgusted. "All she does is cause trouble and act unreasonably. She's better off dead." What he doesn't know is that I already am. Joaquin doesn't recognize that I'm the wax sculpture before him.

"Qubool hai(I accept)," I said with great difficulty and a lone tear escaped from my eyes. I looked at my husband and found him smiling at me. His smile was so mysterious and unusual which created a shiver in my whole system. At the time of Rukhsati(sending off the bride), my mother requested to my husband," Please, take care of her." " Don't worry. I will love her and take care of her so much that she will forget her own family," He replied chuckling but I felt something fishy in his voice. Will he really love me and take care of me the way he is promising to my mother? Erina was just a 22-year-old girl when she was forcefully married to a stranger. She is doubtful about this stranger's intention behind marrying her. Will she ever come to know about her stranger husband's intention?

[MATURE CONTENT] Warning: Skip of you are not a fan of mature romance. Faced with a choice between blaming my stepfather Jason or stepbrother Ethan for the life growing inside me, I felt the weight of Jason's ominous threats—stay silent or risk my mom's life. “Chelsea,who is responsible for this pregnancy?” my Mom asked. I stood there, tears welling in my eyes, torn between the truth and the suffocating weight of shame. "Mom, I'm really sorry," I whispered, my voice cracking, as tears streamed down my cheeks. Unable to endure the guilt, I ran away from home, leaving my mother to search for me, only to tragically meet with an accident in her pursuit. HAPPY READING

''Sometimes I sit alone in my room, not because I'm lonely but because I want to. I quite like it but too bad sitting by myself always leads to terrifying, self-destructive thoughts. When I'm about to do something, he calls. He is like my own personal superhero and he doesn't even know it. Now my superhero never calls and there is no one to help me, maybe I should get a new hero. What do you think?'' ''Why don't you be your own hero?'' I didn't want to be my own hero I just wanted my best friend, too bad that's all he'll ever be to me- a friend. Trigger Warning so read at your own risk.

How quickly everything ended by just a single day, I was just like any other girl in the world- laughing and hanging out with friends, taking endless selfies, having crushes on bad boys and nerds included. I never thought or cared about how I look. It was just mine. Normal and Easy. But everything changed in one single moment- a moment filled with fire, screaming metal, and a blur of terror that rewrote my life. I survived. Everybody says I'm lucky but this, this doesn't feel like survival it feels like a punishment, a curse. A curse that am willing to carry all my life. The accident left me with permanent facial disfigurement, and ever since, I've been stuck behind a mask I never asked to wear. My face is the first thing anyone sees, and sometimes, it feels like the only thing they see. I avoid mirrors now. I no longer go out; I can't risk being stared at. Friends faded. Invitations stopped. Of course they would stop, who would want to invite the hideous me. I would scare everyone, worse, ruin their appetite. They would move away from their tables. What did I expect? Life moved on for everyone but me. My mom is the only person in my life right now, shes' become my anchor. Even with her love, it's still hard to silence the voices in my head, the ones saying I'm hideous, broken, unworthy. I miss my old smile. I still haven't done anything in life. And this isn't about my appearance it's about my self- esteem, my confidence, my ability to feel like I belong anywhere. This is a constant battle with the mirror, with the world, and with yourself. And most days, I'm trying to find the strength to look up to.

I'm lying here, my body burning from within as the wolfsbane spreads through my veins. Meanwhile, my Alpha mate, Ryan, is giving the antidote I discovered to his childhood sweetheart, Vivian. With what little strength remains, I beg him to spare just a portion of the cure—enough to keep me alive for a few more days while I search for another remedy. Ryan doesn't even glance my way. He snarls, "I can't believe you're faking illness when Vivian is fighting for her life! Control your jealousy before I lose all respect for you!" Under his command, I'm confined to my quarters to "contemplate my sins." In the end, the wolfsbane consumes me completely. When Ryan discovers what he's done, he digs my grave with his own hands, howling with regret that comes too late.

My husband of five years turned out to be the long-lost heir of the Rhys mafia family. On the day he was brought back into the family, he took our son by the hand and walked toward a million-dollar luxury car with Isla, his childhood sweetheart. Then, frowning slightly, he said to me, “Hazel, I’m only taking Isla and our son with me. You stay here for now. Once I’ve secured my footing in the Rhys family, I’ll come back for you.” I nodded calmly and accepted his arrangement without protest. I knew that even if I forced my way back with him, it wouldn’t end well. In my previous life, I cried and insisted on going with him. Left with no choice, Sam brought me back to the family. However, it wasn’t long before Isla framed me, accusing me of leaking the Rhys mafia family's secrets. According to family rules, I was sentenced to death. When the verdict was carried out, my son shouted at me with reddened eyes. “I hate you! If you hadn’t insisted on coming back, I wouldn’t have had a traitor for a mother! I would’ve had a better mom a long time ago!” In that instant, my heart gave out. Reborn to the moment before my husband reclaimed his identity, I chose to let go without hesitation this time, no longer standing in the way of the happiness he and our son wanted.