Psychopath Smile

Merchaiass is a normal student who only needs love and support from his family, which the latter can't give for reasons that Merchaiass has forgotten. He had selective amnesia, which meant he couldn't remember what happened months before the accident. With a heavy heart, he left home and went to the next town in the hope that it would be the start of his new life. Little did he know that he would unlock mysteries from the place where he's currently residing... the studio. In the midst of the danger, he meets a person, a mysterious one, who will save him from the upcoming peril. Will he come out safe from the studio, or will he become one of the kinds he loathes—a psychopath? Let's find out the journey of Merchaiass when he moved into the studio and meet different kinds of people. 

He watched her for a long moment, the anger in his eyes unmistakable. She imagined he was thinking of ways to punish her, but nothing prepared her for what he said next. "Strip." It was one word, but she doubted if she heard him correctly the first time, was he really going to punish her? "What… what was that?" She asked innocently. "Strip, Nancy." "I won't." "So you refuse me, I see." he said it lightly, the evil smile still playing on his lips. "That will not stop me from having you though" "You won't." She said firmly "Won't I?" She had expected to arouse his anger tonight, but nothing prepared her for the icy rage that contorted his features and the resentment and coldness in his eyes. "Has he touched you yet?" Derek asked suddenly, his eyes still hard on her and his look ever so cold. "Depends on the kind of touch you mean," She replied in a soft, tempting voice, "He has touched me in certain ways. But you are my husband and I should not be telling you that.” "No," he returned coldly. "We are just master and slave, nothing else links us.” ***** Forced to marry against their will, Nancy must not only prove to Derek Lincoln that she was never his lost betrothed, but she must also prove to the parents of his real betrothed that she is not their daughter. But when a man is this beautiful and yet so arrogant, God knows loving him could not be so difficult. Except he is strongly involved with his mistress, who would give anything to have him, even if it meant killing his present wife. But was he worth it? Nay. To him, she is just a personal whore.

My new dormmate thinks my boyfriend is a player and advises me to break up with him. After I politely reject her, she gets mad and complains about me online, saying I'm love-addled brain. Her video goes viral, and the online community calls me an ingrate who doesn't know what's good for me. When I see the smug smile on my dormmate's face, I slap her without even batting an eye. "Stop acting like you're a champion for feminism when all you can think of is making yourself seem better than other women!"

Two months remained until debut evaluation night. Before our unit performance, our main dancer suddenly offered me her center position. I stared at her, confused, "The trainers always praise your stage presence. Why give up your spot?" "You... you deserve center more than I do." Her smile was painfully forced, and she was fidgeting with her practice clothes - obviously not saying what she really felt. Puzzled by her strange behavior, I asked, "Are my moves too big? Am I making it hard for you to perform?" She suddenly started shaking, looking at me with pure fear in her eyes. After what felt like forever, she finally choked out, "Please, just stop. I won't try to compete with you for center anymore!"

On our tenth wedding anniversary, my husband, Jaxon Wilde, walks through the door with his hundredth new mistress. From my neck, he snaps the necklace that was once our token of love and fastens it around hers. Amid the guests' jeers and mocking laughter, the lady tugs timidly at my gown and murmurs, "Mr. Wilde wants me to wear this dress tonight, Scarlett." It was a dress altered from my wedding gown ten years ago, and I wore it tonight like a fool, hoping he might remember. But now, he wants to strip his wife bare in public and give it to his mistress on the wedding anniversary. Under the weight of everyone's sneers, I look up at him and give him a genuine smile for the first time in a decade. "Let's get divorced, Jaxon."

I am the sole heir to the Alpha King of Northaria, but I'm an Omega. All of Northaria awaits the day I come of age, hoping I'll awaken the kind of Alpha bloodline strong enough to claim the throne. But when the day finally comes, I'm still just a low-rank Omega. So, they say that the true heir must be one of the three "pledged Alphas" my father adopted from the major tribes. Whichever one of them marks me becomes the ruler of all Northaria packs. But none of them have ever truly looked at me. The one I like most is Quin Lawson. When I fainted on the snowy plains as a child, it was he who carried me back to the pack. I've tried countless times to get close to him, only to be met with nothing but cold, contemptuous stares. I used to think he was just emotionally distant—until the Moon Goddess Festival. That night, I saw him kneel before Silvia Anderson, the daughter of my father's second-in-command. His voice is soft, and his gaze is tender. "I'm marrying Evelyn only to repay the Alpha King's kindness. Once I get the inheritance, I'll make you my Luna. As long as she doesn't harm you, I'll even grant her a piece of land to live out her life in peace. You're my true mate." The night before the marking ceremony, my father asks me who I choose. I think of the way all three of the pledged Alphas look away whenever our eyes meet. I smile and say, "I'm the rightful heir of Northaria. My mate should be someone who brings the greatest strength to our pack. And so, I choose Alpha Heath of the Pyraxis pack." The air goes still. My father frowns. "Him? Are you sure? Every one of his mates has died under mysterious circumstances. His wolf is known to be vicious—no one dares get close to him. You truly want to be his mate?"

She was a kidnapped heiress, taken from her real family on purpose. He was a legendary tycoon, feared and admired across the business world. At a lavish party, she was set up by her adoptive mother—and unexpectedly became his cure. Months later, he received a mysterious package. Opening it, he was stunned to find... a mini version of himself. Furious, he roared: “Woman, you’d better pray I never find you!” Six years later, she returned, vowing to take revenge and reclaim her son. Armed with brilliance and unshakable resolve, she tore through scheming rivals, crushed manipulative socialites, and built her own empire along the way. But one day, the cold-blooded CEO cornered her against a wall: “We already have a child—give me the title of husband too.” She flashed a bewitching smile: “Sorry. The kid’s father? I’ve got someone else in mind.” Just then, three cheeky little munchkins popped out, grinning from ear to ear: “Daddy, give me a sister with Mommy, and she’s all yours!” In that moment, her mind went blank. Betrayed... by her own sons!

Lucas Fenrir was the son of the Alpha of the Silvertail Pack, born as the pack's greatest pride. When his Luna and first love, Nara Boris, chose to leave, he married me in a fit of rage—the most unremarkable Omega in the pack. Everyone said I was just a substitute for Nara. They were waiting to see me abandoned, to see me cry, and to see me beg on my knees. Nonetheless, I always smiled and calmly fulfilled Lucas' every demand. I helped him stabilize the pack's morale, stood up for him in public, and even defended him against the rumors that he had rekindled his past romance with Nara. Until one day, I saw him on the streets during the Moon Goddess Festival. He was holding Nara, kissing her deeply. Meanwhile, I simply turned my head away in silence from behind the crowd and pretended I saw nothing. A few months later, I was diagnosed with wolfsbane poisoning that had spread to my nervous system. My condition was beyond saving. I was admitted to the ICU of the pack's hospital, with only a few days left to live. Lucas came when he heard the news. His eyes were bloodshot as he roared and grabbed my dying body. "Why didn't you tell me? Why are you trying to die alone in secret?" I looked at his unhinged expression, my gaze as gentle as it had always been. There was even a faint mocking smile curling at my lips. "Lucas, I've never loved you. "The one I loved… was actually your twin brother—Derrick."

I stood in the shadows, the scent of pine and frost heavy in the air, watching my mate, Ethan, smile—truly smile—for the first time in years. But not at me. At her. My cousin, Isla. His first love. She sat beside him, warm and glowing, with our pups, Lucas and Mia, curled up against her like she was their real mother. They were laughing, sharing bites of ice-cream cake, the kind Lucas once said made his stomach hurt. I was never meant to be here. I wasn't his choice. He didn't fall in love with me—he was assigned to me. To him, our bond was never about love. It was a political arrangement—an alliance between two packs: his power, my father’s ambition. A tie forged not by hearts, but by bloodlines and borders. He never touched me unless required. He never looked at me like I was his Luna. In that moment, as their laughter echoed under the full moon, I felt the mate bond falter—thin, fading, like breath in winter. And I knew. I had played my part long enough. So I turned away. It was time to severe the bond that was never truly mine. But when he sensed I was really leaving, when the tether between us began to snap, he broke. Dropped to his knees, clutching the pups like lifelines, his voice raw. "Please," he whispered, "don't leave me." Even the pups cried, reaching for me with shaking hands. "Mom, we’re sorry… We didn't mean it. Please don't go."

An accident leaves Preston Brown unable to have children. The fight over his family's fortune is heating up. Desperate for an heir, Preston arranges for me to sleep with his best friend, Rowan Kerr. I quietly dump the sleeping pills Preston gave me and pretend to be clueless. Then, I lose myself in a night of passion with Rowan. … The next morning, right in front of Preston, I smile sweetly and say, "Honey, you were incredible last night. I've never felt so good." His expression darkens. "Do you prefer the man I am by day, or the one who takes you at night?" I act bashful, tugging on his sleeve. "Both. But I especially love the one who knows how to satisfy me at night."