Pilgrim Church

I've been married to the prince of the underworld for ten years and have endured countless life-or-death situations by his side. My hands, once trained to play the piano, are covered in calluses from holding guns and stained with blood. But at 28, my husband ends up falling for a young woman from the slums. She's as delicate and pure as a chamomile. She's his well-kept little secret—until I run into them at the woman's prenatal appointment one day. I storm up to him, demanding an explanation, only for him to nonchalantly hand me divorce papers. "Sonia is a devout follower of the church and can't have a child before marriage. I must make an honest woman out of her. Sign these, and you'll get 40% of the company's shares." I refuse to do as told, so he corners me. In the end, he has my crippled younger brother tied up and forced under a hydraulic compression machine. "Sign the papers, Maeve, or watch your brother become a human mince pie. The choice is yours." I fall on my knees and beg him to stop. As the machine turns on, my hands fly to my aching lower belly, and I scream as I lose consciousness. When I wake up again, I'm back in the hospital, in the same spot where I ran into my husband and his mistress at her prenatal appointment. This time, I don't confront him. Overnight, I make arrangements with a sanatorium abroad, get divorced, and run away from home. Yet the moment I truly disappear, my husband loses his mind.

After our eighty-eighth canceled wedding, I called my business partner. "I'm taking the Haviana market project." There was a beat of stunned silence. "Seriously? That's ten years overseas. You just got married—well, weren't you? Does your husband even know? What about your parents? You always said staying close to them was everything." I glanced around the empty church and let out a sharp laugh. "There was no wedding. No husband. And my parents? They've got Cindy. That's all they need." Another pause. "Alright. Pack your bags. You leave tomorrow." After the call, I ran a hand down my wedding dress. One last tear slipped out, quiet and pointless. Cindy had another "episode" today. Claimed she'd off herself. Andrew canceled—again. I'd looked at him, drained. "It's the eighty-eighth time." He dropped his head, guilt all over him. "Just a little more time, Viv. She's been off since the accident. I'm scared she'll actually do it. I swear, I'll talk to her. For real this time. Then we'll get married. Promise." My parents didn't hesitate. "Vivian, let Andrew go. If Cindy hadn't gotten kidnapped trying to save you, she wouldn't have these breakdowns. Are you really putting a wedding over your sister's life?" "How could you be so selfish?" I'd heard it all before. Used to fight it. Not this time. If neither my fiancé nor my parents wanted me around, then fine. I'd leave.

In a country where people view being single as a sin. Some would even conclude that you have been married to the devil by your parents, others would say you have a spirit husband a d that was the reason no one was coming for you. To worsen it, you chose a profession that perpetually puts you on the limelight, people call for you, they have seen your work and they want to have you as their photographer. Such was the case for Rebecca, she was young beautiful but she feels so alone since all her mates were married, she was still single and to worsen it no one was seeing her, it felt more like she was invisible, people would always tell her she was beautiful but they never went further even when she would be the one to quickly show her interest. She wanted so much to be loved and feel loved, she wanted to know what it felt like to be inlove. She looked pretty young but she wasn't really that young which was why her mother would want her to go to church with her every now and then, she wished she was not in the same state with her mother because even if she runs away from her mother, she always finds a way to get her back. But the story changed for Rebel when she was contracted to handle Charles' wedding, her job was going just as perfect, she was doing exactly what she used to do, she was giving her best to the work. She showed them a sample of how the work would look like, but she couldn't concentrate, whenever Charles was close to her, even if he was with Sandra, she just couldn't concentrate, she was inlove with her client.

I was born destined to be fertile. The kind of woman who brings heirs into the world as if it were destiny. My womb had never failed me. The Schuyler family had practically begged me to marry into their family. The reason was simple. For three generations, the Schuyler family had only produced a single heir each time. Their bloodline was hanging by a thread. The patriarch of the family, Albert Schuyler, went everywhere looking for solutions. Doctors, fortune tellers, shamans, anyone who could give him hope. In the end, every prediction pointed to me. After I married Jack Schuyler, my first pregnancy was twins. The entire Schuyler family exploded with joy. Albert donated to every church and fortune teller alike, kneeling in gratitude. Before the babies were even weaned, the Schuyler family business began to thrive. Everyone said that it was the blessing of having noble heirs. Wedding gifts, properties, and company shares. The Schuyler family spared nothing. They treated me like a queen, terrified that I might suffer even the slightest. Until the day I gave birth to my third child. Jack Schuyler's true love, Bianca Chance, barged into the delivery room, screaming at me, "You shameless tramp! You're nothing but a breeding sow! One baby after the other! Are you trying to trap Jack with your womb? You disgusting woman! Jack had said that everything you give birth to will just be burdens sooner or later!" I pressed a hand on my wound and looked at her. Burden? Fine. I would take these so-called burdens with me. As for the Schuyler family's precious bloodline, they had to figure out how to continue it on their own.

" What about her?" His inquire came out softly and lazy. Ayla's eyes suddenly contracted fiercely and rolled to her brain! She thought she might collapse any moment from now! No! She can't be known! Her identity can't be revealed! The senior nun must not reveal my identity! " Errr......that's Ayla, the wolfslayer's daughter." Damn! The atmosphere dropped to a freezing point and Alpha Darius felt his lips twitched for a second. He looked back at the senior nun, snapping his brows coldly and back at Ayla, whose legs was already trembling violently. " You mean Morgan and Arnold's daughter?" He hissed, finding it hard to believe. " Yes." The senior nun replied. " We found her not too long when her father was set ablaze." Darius unexpectedly chuckled dryly, and his eyes lowered. " The slayer's daughter hun?" He approached Ayla even closer, gazing at her keenly like she was his prey and he lifted her chin, allowing her nervous dim eyes to met his. " Then, I guess my bride is in front of me." ****** A war was coming and it is predicted there might be no survivors. With this, Darius, a heartless, dangerous and crazy Alpha king of the Crimson moon, who was feared by all, set to get a bride who would give him an heir. Their pack was cursed, making it impossible. This led them to a downtown church, where ladies are sold like slaves and nuns, to seek bride. However, he encountered the least person he thought! The daughter of the wolves slayer's? This was going to be fun! But would something change between Ayla's hatred for the wolves and Darius vengeance on Ayla? What would fate write for them?

My new husband always acted like a child. Before our son turned two, he would grab the boy’s food bowls every single day and refuse to let go. When our son turned four, he had developed an obsession with planting seeds and watering the little garden in our backyard. When our son turned five, I ran into my Christian ex-boyfriend after six years apart at a business event. He looked the same as before and narrowed his eyes at me with cold disdain. “Didn’t we agree never to see each other again after the breakup? “How are you still this pathetic after six years? You chased me all the way here?” In an instant, everyone turned to watch and whispered among themselves, wondering whether I would shamelessly beg him to get back together with me. After all, back then, I had used every trick I had just to win over William. It was how I had managed to get hold of a man who seemed aloof and almost otherworldly. No one knew that every time William slept with me, he would go to church and repent in secret before a photo of his foster sister. He even kicked me out of the Wells family for her sake. He forced me to donate over a quart of blood to his foster sister when I was hospitalized after a miscarriage. From that moment on, my heart was numb. I returned to my hometown and married my devoted husband. I never expected that six years later, I would see him again. William watched me in silence, then pulled an old diamond ring from his pocket and tossed it at my feet. “Pick it up, and put it on. I’ll marry you.”

The Mad Donna He Never Really Married For three years, I was Donna of the rising Valenti family. One day, Enzo was holding a meeting at a private cigar club. I worried about his stomach issues, so I went to bring him his usual antacids. Standing outside the private room, I heard his men laughing. “Don Enzo, are you really going to keep Clara hidden away at the Silver Lake villa forever?” “That mad Moretti heiress in the main house is still parading around as Donna of the Valenti family.” Enzo rubbed the bridge of his nose and scoffed. “If she hadn’t taken a bullet to the head for me and gone insane, and if I hadn’t desperately needed her family’s capital, I never would have married a woman with no blood ties to the life.” “But Clara is my legal wife. The family trust, the marriage certificate at City Hall, it’s all in her name.” “Stella’s just a plaything I keep at the main house. Once Clara gives birth to an heir, I’ll bring her home for good.” My knuckles turned white as I squeezed the small box of medicine, the cardboard crumpling in my hand. He had exchanged blood oaths and rings with me in the church, yet it was Clara who had signed the papers at City Hall. He played me for a fool, all to keep Clara’s reputation clean. Clutching the box, I turned and melted back into the shadows. He had no idea my sanity had returned three days ago. He would never guess I had already sent an encrypted message to my brother, who runs a business empire from our home in Solaria, far across the sea. I was done with this goddamn Valenti title.

When my father asked me who I wanted to marry for the sake of our family alliance, I made a different choice in this life. I no longer chose Leonardo Vittorio. Instead, I chose his older brother, Ivan Vittorio. My father looked confused. After all, everyone in Chicago knew that Leonardo and I had grown up together. I had chased after him for ten years. As the eldest daughter of the Lucien family, my name had long been inscribed beside his on the list of arranged marriages. Everyone believed our union was destined. Recalling my past life, I forced a bitter smile. Back then, I had indeed married Leonardo as I had always wished. But after our wedding, he never once touched me. I thought he had some unspeakable illness and went to great lengths to cover for him. It wasn't until our sixth wedding anniversary that, by chance, I opened the safe in his study. Inside, neatly arranged, were photos of him with the orphan girl I had begged my father to adopt. In those pictures, there was also a two-year-old boy—their son. They were a happy family of three. It was at that moment that I finally understood. He wasn’t sick. He had never thought of me as his wife. To get rid of me, he and my adoptive sister plotted my murder. Now that I have been given a second chance, I chose to give them my blessing. But when I walked down the aisle in my wedding dress, my hand resting on Ivan’s arm, Leonardo burst into the church with a gun in his hand. He looked deranged and completely out of control. "Madeline!" His voice was hoarse and nearly breaking. "How dare you?"

Luke finally agreed to bind with me, urged by his mother Monica on her deathbed. Moonlight spilled through the window, casting a glow on his golden-brown fur. He stood by the bed, his amber wolf eyes deep and seemingly nervous. As soon as he stepped out of the room, his expression returned to its usual calm, and he said to me coldly, "Emma, let's wait a little longer." "I need to bond with Alina first," he continued, his wolf eyes distant, his tone neutral. "Her mother is seriously ill, and I promised her." "What about your mother? She wants to witness our bonding too!" "I have to bond with Alina first. You don't need to worry about my mother’s health," he said, as he effortlessly removed the vow ring Monica had given me from my finger, then turned and walked away. His little wolf followed, its tail wagging happily, showing no sign of reluctance. But as soon as he left, his mother suddenly took a turn for the worse. By the time Monica passed away, I was the only one by her side. Weakly, she squeezed my hand and whispered, "Emma, don’t wait for him anymore. Find someone who truly loves you." Her hand fell limp, and in the quiet darkness, I made two calls. The first was to the church, changing our marking ceremony to a funeral for his mother. The second call was to my best friend. Her brother was the Alpha of another pack, with dark fur and sharp green eyes. "He once said that if I was willing, he would bond with me... Is that promise still valid?" There was a pause on the other end before a deep voice, full of natural authority, came through: "Emma, have you finally figured it out?"

CONTENT WARNING. EROTICA ROMANCE: RATED 18+. "Tell me," he said. "Tell me what you want..." My senses were reeling, my body jerking against his hand. "I want you to fuck me," I said. "I want your gorgeous fucking cock in me..." "Nice," he smiled against my cheek. "More..." My voice was just a whisper. "I want to feel you inside... I want you to fuck me, hard... I want you to take my ass, and make me fucking squeal..." "You want to be stretched, little girl? Is that what you fucking want?" Oh fuck, my clit was clanging like a church bell. "Yes... Oh, fuck, please... I want you to stretch me..." "Gonna open you up so fucking wide," he growled. "Gonna take your fucking cunt with two fat cocks, stretch you nice and fucking big... two big fucking dicks in your sweet little pussy... gonna feel so fucking dirty... gonna feel so fucking tight..." "Yes..." "Wanna see inside you... into your pink fucking hole..." "Yes..." "Gonna make you wet... make you stretch... make you fucking gape for me..." The heel of his palm was so hard against my clit. "Fuck..." I ran my fingers down his chest, over his abs, until I found the swell in his pants. I squeezed him through his jeans. "Fuck me..." "I fucking shouldn't..." he groaned. "Fuck..." But he was grinding against my hand, moving over me. "Just a quick one. Hard and fast. Please..." "I can't..." he said. "I can't..."