Private

Evan Peretti and I had been together for five years, but he left me at the altar on the day we were supposed to get married and publicly announced that my bestie, Yvonne Quinto, was his true love. As I was about to become the laughingstock of the day, the heir and Don of the Linaris, Chris Linari, walked up the altar to profess his love for me. He claimed to have fallen in love with me at first sight when he first laid eyes on me years ago. I married Chris, and he showered me with love after we got married. Everyone was envious of the love we shared, and even the media would publicize our love story in high profile. However, I learned the truth when I found thousands of Yvonne's photos on his computer. His so-called love was a tactic he used to hold me back from destroying Yvonne's happiness. I thought I was saved by love when he saved me from that embarrassing situation back then, but it was just a deception in the name of love. For the past five years, he had me tied up in a web of lies he had woven by carefully creating an illusion of happiness. I decided to contact a private workshop that specialized in customizing and planning my 'disappearance'. I would fall into the sea three days later on our wedding anniversary, and my body would never be found. Chris Linari, we would never meet again.

On the last day of the year, my music player app pushed out my 2025 listening report. My keyword was 'Resonance.' I had not actually spent much time listening to music that year. My account had mostly been used by my boyfriend, Jeremy Steward. A small line of text appeared underneath. [At 4:00 A.M. on December 1st, you were still sharing the same song with someone. So this is what love looks like, staying awake through the night.] My breath caught. December 1st was my birthday. However, that night, I had gone to bed early. Jeremy had rushed off right after cutting the cake, saying he needed to go back to the office for overtime. Almost as if possessed, I tapped my trembling hands on the unfamiliar profile that showed up as my most frequent interaction. Their keyword for the year was 'Exclusively Yours.' My heart skipped. I opened the details. [This year, you and this user listened to songs together late at night 688 times. Every time is a private whisper between souls.] Right then, a message from Jeremy popped up on my phone. [Babe, I have to work late again tonight. Don't wait up for me. Sleep early, okay?] At the same moment, that unfamiliar account posted a new update. A photo of two hands intertwined inside a car, fingers tightly laced together. [I love working late with him the most. We'll listen to music together for a lifetime.]

After the car accident, one of the Johnson sons was dead and the other gravely injured. When my devout, devoted husband woke up in the hospital, he called out, "Dorothy." He claimed that his body then held the soul of his brother, Elias Johnson. I went mad, calling doctors, priests, anyone I could, desperate to bring my husband back. It was not until that night that I overheard his conversation with our son: "Father, you've loved aunt for years. You even kept yourself chaste in your private prayer room, waiting. Now, finally, you can be with her openly." The man in the bed reached out to stroke our son's hair. "If it weren't to stop your mother from destroying her relationship, I wouldn't have married her." I hid in the shadows, still reeling from their words, when I saw what happened after our son left. The husband I had always known, icy, composed, and ascetic to maintain his devout faith for seven years, was then holding his sister-in-law close on that tiny hospital bed, sharing a warmth meant for lovers. The next day, I applied for Jim Johnson's death certificate and burned our marriage certificate. At his grand wedding, I climbed aboard the helicopter sent to fetch me. However, my once-cold husband went mad, chasing after us down several streets, desperate and unhinged.

After being cheated by her beloved boyfriend, Joan Green decided to revenge him. She slept with his uncle, her future uncle-in-law, Noah Hugo, the last kid in the Hugo family, almost the same age with her Ex-boyfriend Fletcher. He was a top and outstanding billionaire in the entire state, having women by his side or sleeping with them was never his desire. Work and Women, are his whole world. Joan contacted and seduced Noah via her private account but she was rejected because Noah knew who she was. 「Wanna F?」 「Pretty. But I don’t fuck my nephew’s girl.」 Joan was furious when she saw his reply, but she didn’t expect that Noah would drink with her at the same pub.She was embarrassed and wanted to escape from him. But he asked her the same question「Wanna F?」 and then... Joan slept with him all night. After she wake up, she just found out that Noah knew her full name. He even knew her cousin Karen Green. That meant Noah knew Joan’s ex-boyfriend betrayed her? Or did he also play trick on her and regard her as a joke!? Joan was in a rage and delete him directly! What if Noah was a scum like Fletcher, then he would never contact Joan again and showed everyone that Joan was a stupid woman. But why? Noah's message was lying on her list again: 「Give me one more chance.」

On the day of our engagement, my girlfriend, Jean Sullivan, is nowhere to be found until late at night. Beside myself with worry, I, Seth Lloyd, frantically reach out to our mutual friends and even consider calling the police. Suddenly, I come across a post about her from her assistant, Callum Cox. "My manager came over to discuss some plans, but the door lock suddenly broke. Does this mean we're going to be stuck in the same room tonight? I can't help feeling a little excited." When I like the post, Jean immediately calls me, furious. "Don't you have any idea how much I earn in a year? Just one day of my lost income would cover what you make in a whole week. "All I did was skip that stupid engagement party, and you start acting all snide. I don't have time to deal with your stingy relatives." My mom, Teresa Whitfield, stays silent, her eyes sweeping over the gold, eight sets of haute couture jewelry, and several property transfer deeds in the private room. With a forced smile, she asks, "Seth, have all these wedding gifts we've prepared embarrassed you?" I sneer, caressing the keys to the luxury car I'm about to give Jean. "No, it's me who's being too generous to her."

Reign was one the most successful and popular rock artist in the world, she was a star in her own right. She worked ten times harder than her male counterparts. There was a handful of female artists who had achieved the same kind of success she has at such a young age. She was very proud of what she had accomplished in the last three years. It wasn’t easy, she was only fifteen when her manager, Mac, discovered her. She’d been touring and recording nonstop since she started three years ago. Her and her band have been together since the start of her career, they were all around the same age, but she was the youngest of the five of them. When it was decided that they would be taking at least six months off, the twin’s, Jyden and Jazlyn, parents invited Reign and the other two band members to come and spend their vacation with them. They lived in a small rural village on the coast of Scotland. It was secluded enough that security wouldn’t be a problem to arrange. Security was their specialty; they ran one of the most successful security firms in the world, Hunt Security. Six months before her 18th birthday, she became the object of a psycho stalker and her manager hired Hunt Security Company. Little did she know that the brother of her guitarist and drummer was the one who would be in charge of her private security and become more than just her bodyguard.

My husband, Julian Sutton, is busy with work on the day of my prenatal checkup. His childhood sweetheart, Vera Levine, with whom he's been amorous for years, offers to drive me. On the way there, she suddenly swerves and rams into the back of a truck. The car is flattened. Julian is a doctor in the emergency room, but I don't call him. Instead, I dial 911 and wait for assistance. Why? I called him in my past life, and he took me to the hospital. Our child was saved, but Vera died due to significant blood loss. Julian claimed not to blame me and even arranged for me to stay in a private hospital ward. But on the day I was discharged, he dragged me to Vera's grave and stabbed me. I lost the child and was on the verge of death as I stared into his bloodshot eyes. They were filled with unbridled hatred as he snarled, "Vera wouldn't have died if you hadn't grabbed the wheel! Don't think I'll believe you just because you're acting innocent! An eye for an eye—I want you to die for her, but only after experiencing the pain she felt in a hundredfold!" He twisted the blade and stabbed me repeatedly. My blood splattered on Vera's gravestone, dying it red. When I open my eyes again, I find that I've been taken back to the scene of the accident.

Caleb Da Stephano is the illegitimate son of the powerful Russ DA Stephano and grandson of Gus Da Stephano. After Caleb's companies gets taken from him as the heir by Gus Da Stephano following his reckless lifestyle, he is forced into depression which leads him to a one night stand with the woman he never imagined he would be seeing in his life again, talk more of sleeping with. His elementary school nemesis. After catching her boyfriend sleeping with her Co worker at their apartment while trying to make it to the hospital on time before her mother dies of cancer, Mabel Lora finds her life crumbling, leaving her numb, only to find solace at a bar, in an unknown part of the city where only the stinking rich belonged. She's saved from holligans by Caleb, subjecting them to a one night stand. Unknown to the two of them, fate had brought two enemies together once again for a purpose. He’s dangerous, addictive, and Her newest assignment. The future she desperately hopes for rests in the palm of his hands. Breathtakingly handsome and painfully private, he’s the sinner who killed a saint. That’s what the world sees when they catch a glimpse of Caleb Da Stephano. Her job is to understand him. His goal is to break her. Only one of their hearts will survive. Let the cruel games begin.

Astrid Lancetii is known as a multi billionaire CEO in London. As a vampire who saw her mother destroyed by a blood-bond, Astrid’s life is governed by one rule: Never depend on a single source. She keeps her hunger satisfied through casual, fleeting encounters, ensuring no one ever gets close enough to own her. Until she picks the wrong man for a snack. William Winchester isn’t just another high-society playboy. He is the Alpha of the disgraced Winchester Pack, a man who has spent years in the shadows planning to reclaim the legacy Astrid’s father stole from him. After a night of calculated passion, William reveals his trap: a high-definition recording of Astrid’s true nature. With the Anti-Supernatural Agency (A.S.A.) breathing down her neck, Astrid is faced with an impossible choice: be killed, or sign a marriage contract that binds her wealth, her influence, and her very blood to the man who wants to destroy her family. Astrid must play the role of the doting wife to a man she loathes. William is the perfect gentleman in public, but in private, he is a manipulative predator who intends to use any means to keep Astrid in line. But as they navigate a landscape of corporate sabotage and supernatural warfare, the line between hatred and hunger begins to blur. Astrid wants her freedom, and William wants his revenge but the more they fight, the more they realize that in a world of monsters, the only thing more dangerous than their enemies is the bond growing between them.

My boyfriend pulled in two million a year. He told me that once he'd banked five hundred thousand, he'd invest in my gallery. Year one, he said the startup was bleeding money; he hadn't saved a cent. Year two, he needed a new car to keep up appearances; no funds for me. By year five, he was on his private yacht brokering a major deal and told me not to bother him. I stood outside the cabin door and listened to the laughter rolling out from inside. "If Celeste wanted to open a gallery, Eth would write her a million-dollar check without blinking." "Hell yeah. If Celeste hadn't gone abroad back then, that knockoff he's got now wouldn't even be in the picture." Ethan's voice drifted through the crack in the door, lazy, dismissive. "Enough. Emily's been with me five years. I'll still put something in for her." "She's a free drafting machine. She's not worth five hundred grand. One day's revenue at the firm, maybe. Call it round. Two thousand bucks." My eyes burned. I pulled out my phone and called the one man Ethan hated most in all of New York, Adrian Sterling. "Mr. Sterling. That partnership agreement you offered me? I'm signing it first thing tomorrow morning."