Quotes About Lights

In my final year of high school, my parents died, leaving me nothing but a crumbling brick house. And yet, I somehow got myself a younger brother. He was a second-year student at our school, at the top of his grade. But no one respected him. Even when he was bullied, the teachers turned a blind eye. Why? Because even if others didn't beat him, his drunken father did it every day, while his cowardly mother never dared to fight back. I dragged him home with all my strength, patched up his wounds, and kept him with me for several days. Later, when his mother was beaten to death, I called the police and had his father arrested. "Hey," I told him, "from now on, live with me. I don't have any family left. Call me sister, and I'll put you through school." He dreamed of getting into a prestigious university. So I dropped out, set up a street stall, sold my own blood, and even took illegal jobs just to support him. When he graduated, he said he wanted to start a business. I gave him every cent of my savings. And then one day, I watched him stand beneath the dazzling lights, a radiant girl at his side, holding a trophy for a youth entrepreneurship award. I looked down at the cancer diagnosis in my hands. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. In the end, I had raised him into someone I could no longer reach. It was time for me to leave the stage.

“If you leave this palace tonight, you become prey” Lyra Vale got rejected by her fated mate like yesterday’s trash, hauled into enemy land, and turned into the single most lethal prize a blood-soaked kingdom has ever drooled over. In Dravenhold they don’t chain prisoners. They drape them in silk that costs more than most packs see in a lifetime and call them queen. Kael Draven, the Enemy King, had every reason to slit her throat the second she hit his dirt. Instead he put his mouth to her ear and claimed her protection. Claimed her. Now the whole damn continent whispers the same filthy truth: her blood can make kings. Or drown them. The past won’t stay buried. Rowan, the Alpha who ripped her heart out to “save his people,” creeps back through the shadows with one desperate, cocky demand: come back to me. Stay here and she becomes Kael’s living blade, soaked in power and whatever else he decides to take from her body. Leave, and she lights the match that turns every pack into smoking graves. One man wants her soul to rule with. The other already shattered it and still thinks he deserves the pieces. Lyra’s done being the girl who waits to be chosen. In a world where power gets ripped out of throats, not politely handed over… she isn’t prey anymore. She’s the f*cking throne. And she’s deciding who bleeds for the right to sit on it.

After a decade of chasing Carter Worthington, I'm finally worn out. Letting go of my unrequited love, I choose to embrace the man who has quietly loved me all along. His name is Eli Loxley. Not only is he a skilled surgeon, but he's also Carter's stepbrother. Although Eli spent his childhood living in Carter's shadow, he's the one who has captured my heart. On the night I accept his heartfelt confession, he lights up the entire Marrowfield sky with fireworks. He even buys a private island by the sea, where he proposes beneath a blanket of stars. I believe this is the start of my happiness. But before our wedding, Eli disappears without a trace. I end up finding him on a private yacht on the Redridge River, laughing and chatting with his friends. "The only reason I pursued Anya was to get back at Carter. "She's only enticing when she's out of reach. After sleeping with her, I realized she's nothing special. "Marriage isn't what I'm after. But using it for payback? Now that's the real temptation, wouldn't you agree?" I don't shed a tear. I slip the ring off my finger and toss it aside. On the day of the wedding, the venue would stand empty. The entire city of Oakmont would mock it. After everything, I've decided to be the one who runs away as well. But why is the one who didn't love me then now frantically pleading for me to return? I'm afraid this chapter has closed. I won't turn back.

I was perfect at everything. I have perfect beauty, perfect at school, etc. I can do a lot of things. Everyone envies me. And everyone adores me. But, there’s no such thing as perfect in this ugly world. Everyone has their own darkest secrets that are kept hidden from everyone else. I had mine and none of these people who envied and adored me knew how hard it is to keep them hiding in my closet. I had to be tough to survive. But, when I started getting along with the long-haired 33-year-old man, I realized how flawful I am in my perfect world. He made me realize my imperfections, that I can do sinful things, that I can also be a rebellious daughter, that I can also be an ordinary girl, that I can show off my true identity in front of him without being judged. He understands me because just like me, he’s also a broken soul. He embraced my imperfections. Little by little, my heart recognized him as a lover. I let him get into me, not just through my body, but through my heart, too. Princes do come in unexpected ways, isn't it?! But, behind actions are devious intentions. How did I fall into such a trap of destroying me and my whole clan? How did I not see the red lights? Oh wait, maybe because he's a master of deception. I thought he was the prince, the prince who's going to save me from the poisoned apple. He was the poison I should've run away from the first time he showed me the apple and said that it will grant all my wishes. I was the princess and he was the monster in disguise.

"Take off your clothes. Spread your legs." "...What? Why?" The voice cut through the silence, and my heart seized. I instinctively covered my stomach. It was the first anniversary of my marriage to Alessandro, the Don of the Santoro family. I was pregnant and had wanted to surprise him. But his secretary, Liliana, had blindfolded me and brought me to this unfamiliar place. "Donna, stop playing the victim. Seducing men is your specialty, isn't it?" "Tonight, in this underground auction house, you are the final item on the block." A chill shot down my spine, and my voice trembled. "Are you insane? I'm the Donna of the Santoro family! I'm carrying his heir! Alessandro will kill you..." Liliana scoffed and ripped off my blindfold. Blinding lights bore down on me. I squinted, and gradually, a man sitting in the VIP section came into view... It was Alessandro! I stared in disbelief as he slowly extinguished the cigar in his hand. "Pregnant? Whose bastard are you carrying?" "It's yours!" I cried out. "Liar!" He raised his hand, and a report was tossed at my feet. The bold letters "PROBABILITY OF PATERNITY: 0%" burned my eyes. He came closer and gripped my chin. "Liliana was right. Women like you are rotten to the core." "My love was never enough to satisfy your greed." "And I, Alessandro, will never raise another man's bastard." Later, he finally learned the child was his. For the first time, the man who was always so composed, arrogant, and in control knelt before me, his voice trembling. "Celeste, I'm begging you... even if you can't forgive me, please, let me make it up to you." But I felt nothing for him anymore.

"You shouldn't be touching me." he growled, his voice low and ragged, every muscle beneath her nimble fingers felt the tremors of restrained power. The heat of his skin radiated through her gloves. "If I stop, you'll bleed out." His hand shot up, curling gently-but firmly around her wrist. His eyes, a shade of hellish red in the dim lights, locked onto hers. "No, doctor," he whispered, his lips forming a stern pressed line. "If you stop, it won't be the blood that kills me. It'll be the hunger." Dr. Eleanor Airlea never believed in myths-until the night a wounded stranger staggered into her veterinary clinic under a blood-red moon. The wolfs injuries should have killed him, but his body healed with a feral strength she couldn't explain. His piercing eyes, wild and magnetic, left her both terrified and captivated. Raphael is no ordinary man-he's a werewolf, royalty no less with a bloodline that binds him to the violent laws of his pack and the forbidden desire that burns whenever Eleanor is near. In a world where hunters stalk the night and betrayal lurks under every silver light, their passion becomes as dangerous as it is irresistible. She's the healer who should fear him. He's the predator who has set his eyes upon her. And when blood and desire mix under the next full moon, neither of them will be able to resist the pull of destiny. "I don't care what you are," she said, her pulse racing as she held his gaze. "You were bleeding. You needed me." His lips curved into a dangerous smile. "Careful, doctor. Saving a wolf can make you his."

She was the daughter of a monster. He was the brother of a ghost. And their love was never supposed to exist. Sama Arthur has spent her entire life locked away in a golden cage—an Omega born to a cruel kingpin who saw her as a pawn, not a person. The only man who ever showed her kindness died for it. So she ran. She bled. She disappeared. Now she lives under a stolen name, with trembling hands and nightmares she hides behind lipstick and laughter. But monsters have long memories. And so does Dean Wason. Dean is an Alpha forged in blood, trained to kill, and fueled by one thing—revenge. His younger brother was executed with a bullet to the head. The killer walked free. Now Dean wants to break him—but not with bullets. With heartbreak. With suffering. With the thing his enemy loves most. So he hunts Sama. He stalks her. Finds her. But when he finally sees the terrified woman dancing under neon lights, he doesn’t see a target. He sees something twisted and broken. Something like him. And that changes everything. She’s supposed to die. He’s supposed to walk away. But obsession is a wildfire—and neither of them is safe. What starts as a trap turns into a war of dominance and surrender, secrets and scars. Dean wants to hate her. Sama wants to survive him. But desire is betrayal. And love? Love is lethal. When lies unravel and the truth cuts deep, Sama learns that Dean isn’t just the man who could destroy her—he’s the only one who ever truly saw her. And Dean? He realizes that the woman who ruined his mission is the only one who ever understood his pain.

Complete!!!!!! She grew in wealth without the love she needed the most. In a world with customs and traditions, her upbringing was her destruction. She was trained to make men bend their knees at the sight of her smile yet she bores pure innocence. Then, she was sold to the highest bidder for what her family calls an initiation before she turns a woman. What would happen to her? Would she fall in love to the enigmatic prince who bought her? What would happen if she delve herself on her darkest desires? ...... Hot breath tickled my nose and the smell of my favorite vanilla potpourri filled me. I opened my eyes. Gray met me, like a cluster of angry clouds. "Good morning," the guy whispered in my face. His proximity made me hold my breath. The guy won the bidding and I wasn't wrong. His stare held intensity. He backed down, going to his seat, across from mine. My head snapped to the side; the morning lights seeped through the window beside me. White cumulus clouds parted as the plane flew us above the horizon. I must be asleep for too long that they were able to transfer me from the helicopter to the plane. I snapped back my attention to the guy, "What's your name?" I asked the first question that popped in my mind, being able to let go of the building tensions. "I'm An--" A chuckle escaped from the guy. "No need for proper introductions but as you initiated. I am Yulian." He scratched his chin, looking for my reactions, his thick accent indicated Russian descent. "And you, milady is going to be Mi Eliza, my wife." "Wife? But--" I stopped couldn’t able to form the right words to say. "For a year, yes."

Kimberly Wilson had been married to Steven Smith for two years. When Steven proposed a divorce, she agreed without hesitation. Holding a huge fortune, she began to wealth freely. The Wilson family had only one child, so who would be family continuity? Simple, she said, 'Help me post a message offering a high reward for pregnancy.' It read, "Due to my husband's car accident rendering him infertile, seeking a healthy male for surrogacy. Generous compensation." As for the requirements, 'Must be handsome, have an excellent physique, graduated from an Ivy League school, and be good in bed. Price is negotiable.' Her highly efficient personal assistant, whom she had hired at great expense, sent over photos of applicants the next day. One ultimately met her criteria and even exceeded her expectations. The side profile in the photo, noble and aloof, looked familiar. She immediately decided, 'Okay, It's him.' 'He's available anytime, but he has one prerequisite.' her assistant informed. Kimberly raised an eyebrow, 'What requirement?' 'He's a bit shy, so the lights must be off.' Only later did she realize what trouble she had gotten into. The man was not only the sole heir to the multi-billion luxury goods group-Garcia group but also the best friend of her ex-husband. Steven didn't wait for Kimberly to reconcile as usual but instead heard the news of her new romance. Despairing, he said, 'I can live without her. Don't try to persuade me.' But later, drunk, he called in the middle of the night. 'Kiki...' His voice was choked up. A cold male voice responded from the other end, 'May I ask why you're calling my wife in the middle of the night?' '......'

ADRIAN'S POV My head was pounding, a dull throb that echoed the frantic beat of my heart. I was hot, too hot, my skin slick with an unfamiliar sweat. I knew it instantly: drugged. One moment I was escorting Aria, basking in the glittering lights and dancing with her in the ballroom at her birthday party. Next, a wine from a waiter, a trip to the bathroom, and then… darkness. I blinked, trying to focus on the blur above me. Damien. My stalker. The man who’d been haunting the edges of my life for weeks, whispering cryptic claims of a shared past I couldn’t recall. He was on top of me, pinning me to the plush velvet of some unfamiliar bed. His eyes, usually so intense and unsettling, were filled with a disturbing mix of guilt and desperation. "I’m sorry, Adrian, I'm so sorry I had to do this, but I can't stand seeing you with her. Watching you rewrite our history... please, remember me. Remember us." He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear. "I promise, I'll cherish you this time." Then, his lips crashed onto mine, a fierce, possessive kiss that stole my breath away. His hands moved over me, desperate and knowing, igniting a fire that both terrified and strangely thrilled me. Maybe it was the drug blurring the lines of reason. Or maybe… just maybe, deep down, my body recognized something my mind couldn’t. It responded to his touch with a shameful eagerness, a desperate need that mirrored his own. All I could do was surrender to the moment, to the heat, to the undeniable connection I felt with this man, Damien, as I returned his kiss with a fervor that shocked us both.