Omnitrix Custom Novelas e Histórias

My marriage to Dante, the Moretti heir, was meant to be a union of power, an alliance of empires. But for me, it was also the real deal. Then his adopted sister, Clara, showed up at a party. She was wearing his custom leather jacket, straddling his prized Ducati, and she looked right at me with a smirk. "Dante says," she purred, "that I suit these precious things better than you do." My smile froze. Dante had her on a plane overseas so fast it was like she'd never existed. Five years later, the night before our wedding. I found him staring at the design for our wedding rings. He'd changed the engraving. The "Amor Aeternus"—Eternal Love—was gone. In its place: "Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa." My sin, my greatest sin. I took off my veil right then and there. "The wedding," I said, my voice like ice, "is off."

"Two hundred pieces of gold." I whipped my head in the direction of the voice. It was sexy and authoritative. "No. Make it three hundred pieces of gold. I want that woman." The crowd gasped. My eyes frantically looked for that person and came face to face with a man whose hair reminded me of the ashes after burning the wood. His gray eyes bore into mine. 'Mine,' my wolf uttered. "Going once. Twice. Thrice. Sold!" Master Henderson was all smiles. "The item goes to His Majesty King Elio. You will never regret it, Your Majesty." King Elio? I knew that name. The Lycan King was my mate? ------------------------------- Flora was desperate to look for Sabrina, her sister who was suddenly missing five years ago. She believed it had something to do with the Lycan King. 'Cause why not? Their cruel custom of selling or killing unmated she-wolves every five years started because of the Lycan King.

Just for brushing against the hem of Eva Lawson, the heiress’s custom couture gown, Lucy Quinn's mother had her limbs broken, then thrown into the sea to die. The day Lucy dragged the arrogant heiress to court she thought that justice might finally be served. Eva was declared not guilty. Why? Because the defense attorney representing her was none other than Wyatt Grant, founder of the most untouchable law firm in River City, and Lucy Quinn’s husband. When the trial ended, the elegant and aloof man stepped down from the defense table and placed an apology letter in front of Lucy. "Lulu, sign it. You don’t want to be sued for defamation and end up in prison, do you?" His tone was calm and coaxing, but behind the lenses of his gold-rimmed glasses, his gaze was cold as ice. Lucy, tears stubbornly clinging to her eyes, looked up at him and said with a trembling voice, "Why, Wyatt, Why?"

The day I married Vincent Sorrentino, Lena, the Sorrentino family’s adopted daughter, threatened to jump off the steeple of the family church. Vincent left me standing at the altar in my custom wedding gown, no hesitation, just bolted after her. With every New York crime boss, politician, and oligarch staring at me, I looked out at the crowd and said loud and clear: “Any man who walks up here right now and says ‘I do’? I’ll marry you.” Three years later, Vincent was back into the Sorrentino family’s Long Island estate, Lena on his arm. I was sitting on the leather couch in the main living room, watching my favorate TV show. Vincent’s eyes locked on my huge pregnant belly, his jaw tight, growling through his teeth: “Whose bastard is in there?” I took a sip of orange juice, curled my lip into a smile, and said: “It's a Sorrentino baby, of course.”

For three months, I’d been seeing a guy named “Rex.” A total stranger I’d only met online. We were in the thick of it, that honeymoon phase where every night my phone would blow up with messages that made my pulse jump. “Miss you, sweetheart.” “Dreamt of you again last night. You were all over me, begging for it.” I was about to suggest we finally meet. But then he sent me a picture, a casual shot of his desk, and I saw something familiar: the crest of the Falcone crime family. And I work for a company owned by the Falcones. For three months, I’d been sexting a dangerous man, a made man in the mafia, who could be right under my nose. And just when I was trying to figure out who he was, I saw them. The custom black onyx cufflinks I’d picked out for “Rex”… on my boss, Marco’s, wrists.

A gas explosion kills both me and my wife, Riley Sawyer. When I open my eyes again, we have both returned to our lives before we ever got married. In our previous life, Riley and I grew up together. We were inseparable as kids, and after we married, our relationship only deepened. People envied how well we got along. But in this life, she doesn't choose me. She accepts the romantic pursuit of Benjamin Prescott, the son of the wealthiest man in the city. I quietly erase every trace of her from my life and act as if she never existed. Five years later, the two of them announce their engagement in the grandest way possible and invite all our former classmates. When I show up wearing the same custom suit Benjamin has on, a diamond ring in hand, Riley's face tightens with anger. "Jared, it's been years. Why can't you let me go?"

To celebrate my mom's birthday, I fly back from abroad. At the same time, I plan to meet my fiancé, Kylo Winston, whom I have never met before, to discuss calling off the engagement. Unexpectedly, the custom cake I ordered for the special occasion gets knocked over. Kylo's childhood sweetheart, Nora Cullen, even falsely accuses me of dirtying her limited-edition designer bag. She screeches, "Who do you think you are? How dare you get engaged to Kylo? I'm his real wife! As long as you kneel and beg for mercy and say you're a worthless good-for-nothing, I'll let you off. Otherwise, I'll let you have a taste of what the Winston family of Silverlake is capable of!" I look at the ruined cake in my hands and smile frostily. What perfect timing. I'm planning to break off my engagement with Kylo anyway. So, I dial his mother's number and say, "I just heard the Winston family has two future daughters-in-law. Is that true?"

After five years of building a business with my wife, Jane Fletcher, our company finally goes public. Right after I close a big business deal, I head home in high spirits, ready to take her to meet my family. She transfers me 100 dollars with a hint of annoyance and says, "Buy yourself a decent shirt to wear for the financial conference on the day after tomorrow." The next day, Ansel Meyer—the underprivileged student she sponsors—shows up in a custom suit worth two million dollars. He says apologetically, "Mr. Crane, please do not be mad at Ms. Fletcher. She just wants to give me the best. Maybe she thinks you are used to these things, so she only gave you 100 dollars." I call Jane, but she replies impatiently, "It is just a suit. Why are you being so petty?" All of a sudden, I no longer want to continue this marriage. So, I make two calls decisively. "Hey, Mitch. I am not going to go through with that 50-million deal." "Mom, hold on to the 300-million wedding gift you prepared for your daughter-in-law."

The night of our engagement party, I found my best friend playing a dangerous game with my fiancé. The casino on our family's private yacht was where I found them. Clara was sitting on the lap of my fiancé, Killian, the Falcone family heir. Killian held a sharp family dagger, its tip snagging the thin strap of her dress. The blade traced a path along her collarbone. The slightest pressure would snap the silk. It was a dangerous, intimate scene. I stepped forward with a frown, but Killian just scoffed. "It's just a little game to liven things up, Principessa. Don't be so tense." Clara's eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "We're just playing a traditional family game. The knife game. You don't mind, do you, sweetie?" I was about to speak, but Killian's expression hardened. "We just got engaged and you're already trying to control me?" So I said nothing. I just drew my custom pistol from its holster on my thigh. "So, it's a game," I said. "Then let's play for something real."

At the banquet, the most wanted bachelor of Rivenport announced that my stepsister was the woman he truly wished to marry. Without hesitation, I stepped aside and married Simon Barker, who had been pursuing me for years. Our married life was filled with love and happiness. That joy lasted until I finally became pregnant, when I discovered he had been slipping contraceptives into the milk he gave me every night. I also found a custom diamond necklace he kept in his safe that was labelled "For proposal", but the engraving bore my stepsister's initials. It became clear that I had only ever been an obstacle he needed to remove for the woman he truly loved. All those years, he had pretended to love me, but he was just using me as a stepping stone for my stepsister's bright future. No matter how blind I had been before, now I was fully awake to the truth. With a consent form for abortion and a divorce agreement in hand, Simon and I became strangers forever.