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As the male lead, Henry Johnston, forces himself on me, a row of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "Henry is about to misunderstand and think Aria drugged him! The angst is about to begin!" "I'm thrilled just thinking about Henry regretting dearly after Aria dies!" "Keep up the act, Henry. After she dies, you'll be hugging her corpse and crying every day." That is when I realize that I am the tragic female lead in a story where I am destined to be tormented until I die. The readers treat my death as a highlight to push the plot forward. They are counting down to my death. As I look at Henry, who is panting on top of me, anger courses through me. I grab a table lamp and smash it

(18+ Explicit Content) Buy me.” My voice rings clear through the room. "Buy me and I will serve you until my purpose is through. Buy me and save me from death.” Dante merely laughs at me, "Why should I save you? I'm no hero, girl. You've stepped into a 's den and you're committing yourself to me.” I don't budge, fighting through the urge to cower before him. “I'll give you one chance to walk away, Atwood girl. If you don't, you will be mine and no one can save you from me.” But that’s exactly what I need. Not a hero, but a monster who could tear the world down and bring my sister back to me. I would sacrifice anything for her, including my freedom. Jean Atwood was at the top of

When Elara Vance was at her breaking point—homeless, grieving, and clutching a positive pregnancy test—she turned to the only person she ever trusted: Julian Thorne. But instead of the protection he promised, he gave her a cold shoulder and a one-way ticket out of his life, choosing his family’s empire over their "pathetic" love.Five years later, Elara is no longer the girl who begs. She has rebuilt her life from the ashes, fueled by a quiet strength and the secret she kept from the world. But fate has a cruel sense of humor.When her new job lands her in the inner sanctum of the tech industry’s most ruthless billionaire, she finds herself face-to-face with the man who destroyed her. Julian T

Saraid is your average witch hidden in a small town in Alabama. A blind date set up by her best friend and faerie, Wendy sends Saraid's ife spiraling out of control as the evening ends with her magically bound to Liam Maddox, a man with a secret all his own. Liam Maddox, born and raised in Ireland used to be one of the highest-ranking warriors of the Guardians of the Celtic Coven. An unforeseen attack left him cast out of the ranks for what the witches he protected called impure blood. Hired in secret to locate the true heir to the throne of the Celtic coven, Liam moves to the states where he meets Saraid. The one whom he has been tasked to find. A simple date flips their entire w

"You're going to meet her someday." I whispered. "Olivia." I forced a smile and lifted my head. "And it's fine. I'll be rooting for you all the way." He cut me off with a soft "Liv." I blinked away my tears. "No, listen to me. We need to accept that this won't last forever. You could find her on your next trip out of town, and I'll be forgotten." I swallowed the lump formed in my throat. "I just hope we'll still be friends." His face twisted in pain as he rested his forehead against mine, his hands trembling as he cups my cheeks. "You'll always be my best friend." "And you'll always be mine." I pressed my lips against his, needing to taste him, to feel his lips on mine, to

"It hurts! It hurts me more! Don't you understand, that your savage sister ran away. Taking the money and jewelry I gave her," Arka snapped and then released the hold turning to stare at Mona's reddened cheeks. "That's impossible, Brother-in-Law," Mona said shaking her head, her knees felt weak and she fell to the floor. "I didn't think it was possible either, but this is what happened!" Arka snarled, kicking Mona to her back and causing the corner of her lip to bleed. "Go to your room, or you'll die by my hands right now!" Arka ordered, making Mona try to get up and step into the room while sobbing with pain.

I'm a family law attorney. My specialty is winning divorce cases for other people. I never imagined that one day, I'd be drafting my own divorce papers. For six years of marriage, Adrian read to me for ten minutes every night. He said it was our little marriage ritual. That was until I came home early from a business trip and heard his voice coming from my female neighbor’s apartment next door. "Vivi, which chapter do you want to hear tonight?" I stood outside her door, still holding the birthday cake I'd bought for him. I turned around, went home, opened my laptop, and went through our marital asset inventory from top to bottom. Later, Adrian knelt outside my law firm, his voice so hoarse i

'No matter what, No matter the time, No matter the place, No matter the century, No matter what's to come, I. will always. CHOOSE. YOU'. Everyone saw her as crazy..... But he saw her as nothing less than perfection. ................... "Why?" was the only thing he said. Confused I asked "Why what?" "Why do you always do this to yourself?" the tone in which he spoke almost seemed like he was heartbroken about something. "Do what?" I dared to ask, although I knew already within me I wouldn't like his response. "Conceal your worth" ....................... If you like this small insight of the story then please read on. The only thing I can guarantee you in this sto

"What the fuck—” I started. He looked up at me. His lips were wet, swollen. He licked them slowly, like he was savoring the taste. “Keep your hands where I left them,” he said. My jaw clenched. My knuckles went white against the bedsheets. I didn’t speak. I just watched him. He lowered his mouth again, slower this time. His tongue circled the tip, then slid down the side. I felt every second of it. Every inch. He paused halfway down and looked up at me again. “You like this too much.” My throat tightened. I didn’t answer. “Bet you’ve never let anyone make you beg.” *** Callum Kesington isn’t just a billionaire CEO. He doesn’t believe in love. He believes in

After transmigrating through three novels in a row, the hardest thing I ever suffer through is drinking iced long black. But when I open my eyes again, I somehow become the pathetic simp side character in a trashy romance novel. Just as I debate whether to file a complaint against the system, the trembling system hurriedly explains something to me. Although this is a trashy romance novel, it is also an unfinished abandoned novel. I ask, "So you're saying I decide how the story develops?" The system replied, "Yes. Everything is completely under your control." Satisfied, I lazily stretch and begin checking the original Jacob's background. He has a trillionaire father and a billionaire mot