Novel Good App

“Strip!”Marcelo growled like some hungry lion deprived of food for days. “Don’t make me say this twice,” I scoffed, "I'd rather join my father in his grave than let you see my skin." A chuckle then rolled his lips as he stared down at me like I was his subject, "Fiesty, huh? By the time I'm done with you, you'll have no choice but to bow to me!" Don Marcello killed my father in cold blood and I must avenge his death. But how can I do that when I'm trapped in the monster's mansion? But I won’t give up! I was supposed to be the heiress to the family territory before Don Marcello claimed it. Every attempt to end his life only fueled my obsession with him, he likes his girls feisty and fighting. I'm the only girl who has been able to stand up to him even though it always earned me punishments. But one dangerous secret changes everything. After learning this secret, I kept asking: Was I still willing to burn in his hell… or would I make the devil fall to his knees?

On our wedding day, Carter Hall's father took his own life in our new home. He left a suicide note, blaming me for his death. From that day forward, Carter despised me to the core. He said, "Lindsey Thomson, you deserve to rot in hell, atoning for your sins for the rest of your life." Eventually, just as he wished, I wandered the streets, mute and half-insane, living a life worse than a stray dog. But then, he regretted it.

By the third year of my marriage to Daniel Hawthorne, the war had already taken more than it ever returned, and this time it took his younger brother, Thomas Hawthorne. My sister-in-law, Eleanor, collapsed, and in the weeks that followed she tried to follow her husband into death— once with sleeping pills, once by the river beyond the officers’ quarters— only to be dragged back both times, each time clinging to me afterward as though I were the last thing keeping her grounded. I stayed with her, wiped her tears, and whispered that Thomas would want her to live, until the day she received the test results confirming she was three months pregnant, and the grief of losing her husband was slowly softened by the arrival of new life. I smiled too, believing grief had finally loosened its grip. That night, holding my own pregnancy test in my hand and thinking it was finally time to tell Daniel, I passed the study and heard his friend say quietly, “She’s carrying your child. You convinced the doctors to adjust the timeline so everyone would believe the baby belonged to your brother. Aren’t you afraid Margaret will find out?” Daniel didn’t hesitate. “She won’t,” he said calmly. “She loves me. She wouldn’t leave. I won’t let her know.” I didn’t step inside. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I opened the letter I had received weeks earlier— an official deployment order from the international medical corps, assigning me to a frontline war zone— and tapped Accept.

My husband, an anesthesiologist, deliberately increases the sedative dosage on an accident victim so he can get a new heart for his first love, Selena Quigley. After her operation, he cares for her and celebrates her rebirth. He only remembers to contact me after she's recovered. "It's been three months since we saw each other, honey. You shouldn't be mad anymore, right? Why don't you book a flight for tomorrow so you can come home? I'll pick you up at the airport." I won't be going home anymore, though. Not now, not forever. I've already died on his operating table.

After my mother shot down my pleas to cover my medical bills the 100th time, I clutched my bone cancer diagnosis papers and trudged to the crematorium. "Hi, I'd like to reserve a cremation slot ahead of time," I muttered to the clerk. Half an hour ticked by before my parents and adopted brother arrived in their car. My dad, a forensic pathologist, cracked me across the face. "You're pulling a fake-death stunt now, just to steal the spotlight from your brother?" My mom, a hospital director, snatched the papers from my hands and shredded them into confetti. "Faking records using my credentials and tying up hospital resources? You've crossed the line!" My brother cried, tugging at their sleeves. "It's all my fault. I'll skip the amusement park forever. I don't need a thing. Just quit riling up Mom and Dad." I spun around, my hand pressed against my throbbing chest, and begged the crematorium staff. "Please, when it's time, cremate me and scatter the ashes in the river. I've got no family left in this world."

After her parents were killed on her tenth birthday, Alyssa was taken by the Alpha to pay for what she had no idea about, Alyssa grew up as an outcast in her pack, She was constantly bullied and insulted but she thought it was going to end when she found out her mate was the Alpha's son, But yet he made her life more miserable not until the festival of sun,His Best friend who was the Lycan came for the festival and kidnapped Alyssa with him. What happens when The Alpha and Lycan suddenly wants the wretched outcast

Abducted on her wedding day by a mysterious man who claimed she was his soul mate, Emma was thrust into an unknown world where nothing including her now growing attraction towards her captor make sense. Deciding she wasn't going to be a prisoner, she sought ways to escape but her captor wouldn't give her a chance. When the truth about her identity came to light, Emma was torn on who to trust, those who she had known all her life or her captor who was bent on claiming her.

Violet Anderson, a young artist, lived in LA with her best friend, Tracy Derwin. She was living a calm life and although she studied art, she was working in a small restaurant . Vincenzo Mercanti, a 26 years old bachelor, king of the mafia in both, USA and Italy, cold hearted, merciless killer that lived a wealthy life. One night, two incidents changed both their lives, when the mafia don wanted a little brunette to be his. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Who is she?" I asked my best man, Giovanni. "I don't know. I came here with you man." He replied rolling his eyes. "I want her." I said. "What?" He turned abruptly and looked at me. "Bring her to me Gio or I'll kill you myself." I shot him a cold glare. "Okay."

Having an Awakenist as my wife meant enduring her monkish attitude toward sex. We could only be intimate on the sixteenth of every month. Every detail—my position, rhythm, even my expression—had to follow her rigid rules. If I showed too much pleasure, she would immediately rise and leave. We had been married for five years. Was I ever tired of this? Yes. Still, I always gave in. I accepted these limitations because I loved her. "The Saintess loves me too," I told myself. That faith shattered the day I was sent to extinguish a hotel fire. Amid the flames, I found my wife pressed close to a man in disheveled clothes. Between their arms was a young boy.

Mac Vu is a gangster boss. Lang Tinh is the lady of a prestigious corporation. The two of them belong to two different worlds. Will their love write a happy ending? Will they overcome thousands of storms to be together? Let's see the story together!