Novel & Cerita Note Poem

At the family tea-tasting event, I openly admit that I am terrible at it. I also announce that I am cutting ties with the White family and giving up my inheritance rights. My father trembles with anger and points at me while furiously questioning, "Are you out of your mind?" My fiance, Liam Ford, holds the fake heiress, Laura White, in his arms. He snaps, "Juliana White, if you can't handle losing, then don't agree to compete in the first place. The way you are acting now is an embarrassment to my family and me!" Only I know that I am not crazy. In my previous life, at this very tea-tasting event that determined who got the right to the inheritance, they joined hands to drag me down in the most humiliating way. Laura beat me and uttered every tasting note I came up with first. Again and again, I try to prove myself, only to be refuted by her each time. She became the celebrated tea prodigy, while I turned into a laughingstock who made a fool of herself. In the end, I suffer a mental breakdown and run out of the house, only to be hit and killed by one of Laura's fans. No one bothered to claim and bury my corpse. When I open my eyes again, I am back at my first family tea-tasting event after being brought back to the White family.

Liam Dunlap, my girlfriend's junior apprentice, bragged that he could defuse a bomb with one hand. Then he slipped. The timer began to race. Terrified, he dropped his tools and ran. I stepped in at great risk and saved the hostage. For that, I was commended. Liam, on the other hand, was condemned across the internet and faced severe disciplinary action. My girlfriend tried to speak up for him, but I stopped her. "If you defend him now, not only will your promotion be revoked—people online will come after you too." Later, unable to bear the pressure, Liam jumped to his death. Every line of his suicide note blamed my girlfriend for not standing by him. She said nothing. She simply burned the letter in silence. After that, she rose step by step from a frontline officer to a model figure in the police force. On the day I was kidnapped by criminals, she came in person to defuse the bomb strapped to me—using only one hand. She looked coldly at the device on my chest and said, "See? It can be done with one hand. Why did you all have to drive Liam to his death back then? If I had protected him at the time, the one in my position today… should have been him." The bomb detonated. I died on the spot. After I opened my eyes again, I saw her running around desperately for Liam. She didn't know—the hostage was the mayor's son.

[WARNING; THIS BOOK MAY CONTAIN STEAMY AND SEXUAL CONTENT, WITH SMUT SCENE. UP TO 18+. PLEASE BE AWARE] “Tell me you like it, Leah.” His voice was barely a whisper, yet it was heavy, commanding. I closed my eyes, trying to breathe, but the air around me felt suddenly thin. “You don’t want me to stop, hmm?” He was standing too close. Too dangerous. And in that almost nonexistent space between us, I knew—the most terrifying thing wasn't him, but myself. Because I truly didn't want him to stop. *** Leah Bennett never intended to fall for the wrong man. She only ever wanted to survive in a city that was slowly swallowing her whole. But everything changed the moment she moved into the Hale family home—a stately mansion that held secrets darker than the San Francisco night. Adrian Hale, the man who should have been her protector, instead became a temptation she couldn't pull away from. Ethan Hale, his son, was the love she was supposed to fight for. Caught between two loves and one single sin, Leah learned that some feelings are too powerful to resist—and too dangerous to truly possess. **** AUTHOR NOTE : Before you continue reading: Be warned—This book contains explicit adult erotic romance, lots of smut, sensual fantasy, and erotic musings. If this is not your cup of tea, please leave now.

*** Please note that this book is based on characters from my completed novel, Sinfully Yours, exclusively available on GoodNovel. However, you do not need to have read it to read this book.*** I have hated the Morettis ever since I was old enough to understand how the cookie crumbles. They are the sole reason why my life turned out this way. Alone. Unloved. Abused. Broken. Now I'm out to ruin their lives like they have mine. I've researched them for years, and now I'm finally getting my shot. There is one problem, though. The Moretti triplets are more than what I bargained for. My plan was to reel them in one by one, seduce them if I had to, and then destroy them. I wanted to take away everything they've worked for, strip them bare, and leave them to the vultures. Their parents destroyed mine, so I wanted to destroy their precious offspring, let them taste even just a tidbit of the disappointment I have experienced since I was born. When I weasel myself into their lives, I didn't expect them to be so enigmatic and electrifying. They take up all the air when they are in the vicinity, and I am choking, struggling to remember what my goal is. Will I be successful in my quest for vengeance? Or will I crumble under their hazel eyes and give up the one thing I had that is mine? My soul.

Every time my assistant booked a private room for me, he brought his girlfriend along. I let it slide. The room was on his way home anyway. Then today I pushed the door open and found a sticky note slapped on the head chair: "Freeloaders not allowed." I peeled it off and turned to him. "What's this about?" His girlfriend was already sitting in the head seat, glaring at me. "Can't you read?" she snapped. "Mooching off my boyfriend every damn day. Have you no shame?" "If you can't afford Michelin, don't show up. I can't stand cheap old hags like you. Honestly, if I lived your life, I'd kill myself." I just stared at her, baffled. Justin rushed over and lowered his voice. "Boss, I'm so sorry. She thinks I'm paying for this dinner." "She's a bit of a princess. Doesn't like sitting with people who can't keep up. Tell you what. Let us eat first, and you can order after we leave." Then he took my black card and handed it to the server. I stood there for a second. Then I picked up my phone and called the restaurant manager. "Send security to the private room. Someone stole my card. Call the police."

After I get off work from the hospital, I decide to exercise by taking my mountain bike out on a ride. However, that's when I find out that the seat of my mountain bike has been lowered. There's even a blue sticky note with a scribbled heart pasted on the bike handle. I call my wife, Sabrina Yellin. "Who took my bike on a ride?" After a few seconds of silence, Sabrina replies nonchalantly, "Kelly's boyfriend wanted to learn how to ride a mountain bike yesterday, so he practiced a few laps with your bike. What's wrong, though? Is the bike damaged in any way?" Kelly's boyfriend? But he had boasted about going on an overseas vacation for one whole month last week on his social media account. My gut feeling tells me that something's fishy about this whole thing. So, I just curl my lips into a smirk. "Nah. He can keep using it." After that, I push the mountain bike back to its original parking slot. Then, I find myself two needles so that I can insert them into the seat. Three days later, when I'm working the night shift at the hospital, a nurse rushes in hurriedly. "Dr. Hart, there's a male patient in the ER right now. He claims that his crotch was stabbed by needles when he was riding his bike earlier."

After two years of marriage, I believed I was living the dream—until the day I gave birth to our long-awaited heir. The house was filled with joy as my husband's family arrived, bearing gifts and ready to bestow a name upon our child, as tradition dictated. But the happiness of the day shattered in an instant when my husband walked in, hand in hand with his childhood sweetheart. In front of everyone, he announced not only our divorce but also his engagement to her, as if I had never mattered. *** "I’m divorcing Stacy," Jason announces, his voice unwavering, "to marry Nicole Cruz, my childhood sweetheart." He points to the woman standing before him who smiles and waves at everyone in the room. My world tilts on its axis. The words echo in my mind, louder and louder until they drown out everything else. What is going on?? "But why?" I whisper, my voice barely audible, even to myself. I'm unable to believe his betrayal. Jason doesn’t even glance at the child in my arms. "Because this has been a long time coming, Stacy. I’ve only stayed this long out of obligation and not love." Important Author’s Note: This is a rewritten version of my book The Alpha’s Betrayal: Reclaiming His Rejected Luna. From Chapter 12 onward, the story takes a new turn with fresh twists and drama. Thank you for reading—I hope you enjoy this new version!

They swore to destroy each other. Then he whispered: "A deal is a deal. Tonight, you belong to me." Hockey captains Damian Volkov and Sebastian Montgomery have been locked in a brutal three‑year rivalry. On the ice, they try to break each other. Off the ice, they trade threats in darkened hallways. But when Sebastian finally wins the championship with a bone‑crushing hit, he collects a secret debt Damian doesn't remember making. That night, in the shadows of the locker room, Sebastian reveals a blood oath sworn on his father's grave: One day I'll own you. The price? One night of absolute surrender. No rules. No safe word. Damian expects cruelty. Instead, Sebastian drags him to the abandoned rink where Damian's father used to beat him. He forces Damian to skate until his feet bleed—then bandages the wounds with unexpected gentleness. Every command is a twisted therapy. Every touch blurs the line between hatred and obsession. But someone is watching. A blackmailer has a video of their most intimate moment. Damian's father is faking a stroke to manipulate him. And the journalist who shot them is just the beginning. As the league tries to ban them, as friends become enemies, as a bullet arrives with a note that says "Game seven. You're dead," Damian and Sebastian must decide: Is their bond a trap—or the only thing that can save them? When hatred bleeds into obsession, who will be the first to surrender?

Naomi knelt down before the Alpha king and gazed up at him with hooded eyes. He looked down at her, angry and waiting. She couldn’t believe she was about to submit to the monster before her, but just for tonight, she would lose herself in the painful pleasure he was offering. “Suck it, you dirty little slut.” He sneered, his manhood bobbing its head in her face. And just like The king ordered, she sucked it like it was her last meal. Naomi was the runt of the pack, tortured and bullied for her weakness. But her stubborn spirit made her never give up. It was her edge, until… It became her downfall. Realizing she was the Alpha king’s mate, the man she hated the most, she rejected him in front of the whole kingdom. But what she didn’t know, you can’t run from destiny. Running from a man who loved to chase his prey. And unluckily for her, the Alpha king, the predator never lets go of what belongs to him. How long would she run for before she’s caught? (Note, this is a dark romance book. There are some limits it would cross, and it might be against what you believe in. Don’t read if you can’t handle it. Don’t give a bad review if you can’t handle it. Just leave it for the targeted audience. Thank you.)

I was born with a weak heart. When I was nineteen, I got a heart transplant that allowed me to survive. Soon after, I met my wife-to-be, Vivian Cosby. Three years after we got married, I found a note in her phone that was not deleted. The date was marked as the day we met. The text simply read, [I found him. His name is Quinn Waverly. The heart is with him.] When I looked through the notes further, I saw a man’s photo, captioned with a name. [Randall] There was another line of text in her notes. It read, [Randall, through your heart in his chest, I will show you the world.] I finally understood. The first time we met, she had not been taken aback because it was love at first sight, it was simply shock. The tears she shed when she proposed were not because of me. In the night, she would always lay her head on my chest. However, she was not listening for my heartbeat, but his. Tonight, she came home very late. As usual, she held me tightly and buried her face in my chest. “Your heartbeat always makes me calm.” I did not open my eyes, nor did I ask about Randall. This was the first time I realized that one could hear a heart beat so loudly that it echoed, even through so many layers of skin and muscle.