Reads Sentence

Synopsis Scarlett Darkhaven, a powerful werewolf with the unique ability to control metals, thought she could outrun her past. But when a ruthless werewolf hunter tracks her down, she’s thrown into a deadly confrontation that leaves her husband wounded and her freedom shattered. Trapped in the infamous lake prison and staring down a death sentence, Scarlett is racing against time to break free. Her son, whose werewolf powers are starting to surface, is at risk of being captured by relentless hunters seeking revenge. With their connection shattered and the clock ticking, she must confront overwhelming challenges to safeguard her family and tap into her true strength.

Harriet Avellino received a death sentence for killing the old billionaire, Sorren Fabroa, the owner of Fantell Architecture Firms. After serving the Fabroa Family and did her very best as the chairman’s secretary, Harriet couldn’t believe that she’ll be sentenced guilty at the crime she did not do. Although everyone knows how much Sorren treat Harriet as if his real granddaughter, no one took her side. At her last day, Harriet's friend visited her in the jail. She is Reese, an old friend who turned out to be the missing daughter of a billionaire Astell Wyatt, and also the fiancee of the man Harriet is in love with. Harriet thought that Reese visited her to tell that she believes her and to mourn in sorrow at the sad end of her friend. However… “I know you aren't the one who killed sir Sorren. But you need to disappear, Harriet,” said Reese with a grin on her lips. “For my happiness, the real heir must die. You'll do it since we're friends, right?” At the last day of her life, Harriet just found out that Reese stole her identity. She snatched her position as the heir of Wyatt corporation, and the chance to be the fiancee of Zion Fabroa, the man Harriet loves the most. But it is too late. When Harriet sat at the electric chair to receive her sentence, she knew it's too late for her. However, by the time she closed and opened her eyes, a miracle happened. The time turned back. And so, going back to the past, Harriet vowed to revenge at the people who abandoned her, who stabbed her from the back and those who stole her love and wealth that should be hers. The real heir came back with vengeance.

“You are mine! Mine alone” He Kissed her neck, pulling her closer to her and a soft moan escaped her lips. “No. This is wrong. Can’t be yours. Kaleb will never…” She couldn’t finish her sentence and he crushed his lips against hers. “Please stop,” she implored him to stop, even though she said that to him. Her body craved his touch, the warmth it brought to her. She wanted to feel his muscular hands on her. “You are mine, Allie!” He whispered, pushing himself against her. They knew it was wrong, but it felt right. She was engaged to another, and he was her pack’s enemy, but fate brought them together.

During an elective class, the campus belle, Jemima Ford, who is our senior, describes her ideal type with everyone egging her on. She says, "My future husband has to be at least six feet two inches tall. His parents must be college professors, and his grades should be top three in his major…" The room buzzes with teasing chatter and gossip. At the same time, I snap up my head in surprise. Why does Jemima's description of her ideal type sound like my boyfriend, Elijah Sanders? The next second, the professor standing by the podium smiles obsequiously and says, "Very well said. If Eli hears this, he'll definitely be very happy! Later, the two of you can meet. That way, he won't get tricked by some naive girl into going abroad." Amid the burst of laughter from the class, I lower my eyes and look at the message my parents sent me. It reads, "Sweetheart, are you really going abroad with your boyfriend? There'll be no one left to inherit our company with you gone."

I'm Caroline Forbes, the omega everyone in GreyHound Pack steps over on their way to somewhere better. My mother's name is a rumor named “whore” and my future is a mop and a dungeon sentence waiting to happen. But, I had one thing keeping me going and his name was Alexander Wolfe. Then the mating ceremony took him too. Now I have no mate, rank, or the royal's mercy since the pack had one tradition for girls like me and it ended with a grave. Then the cold and ruthless Jarek Wolfe, the alpha who had never once looked at me like I was worth his time, stopped them. But at what cost?

This story will be like be dark romance, an erotic romance, so there will be sex. Nicolette Gray is a 25-year-old young woman who will start working at Manson Construction Co, the company that makes her dream. She wants to just enjoy her life and even not to believe in love. She believes in one sentence; if a man wants to satisfy her, he must cook well and be good at bed. Carter Darren is a young man who is more than lusted today; he is beautiful, rich, and above all, young for the empire he manages. He is only 28 years old, and he is already a billionaire. Carter Darren and Nicolette Gray; The two should not be together, and yet their attraction and desire to each other will be stronger than their reasons.

During the holiday, a hashtag related to honeymoon trips goes viral on social media. The topic is, "How are you planning to spend your honeymoon?" One of the threads that has the most replies reads, "I have to bring my mistress along, of course." "Wow! That's crazy. Can you teach us how to pull that off?" I frown as I scroll down the thread and find the reply. "There are a lot of poor, female backpackers these days. As long as the mistress acts pitiful enough, you can pull the wool over your wife's eyes. And just like that, a couple's haven will become a world of three. "My wife and I will be going on our honeymoon trip tomorrow. I'll give everyone live updates in this thread." Feeling disgusted, I close the thread. … The next day, my husband, Sean Clifford, and I meet a poor, female backpacker on the road. She has no car, money, or any suitcases with her. Sprawling herself across the windshield, she begs, "Can you give me a ride, sir? I have blisters all over my feet. I can't walk anymore."

On our wedding anniversary, I ask my husband, Luke Blackburn, to buy me some fish stew. Since I'm in my first trimester, I keep vomiting every now and then due to morning sickness. Right now, I have an intense craving for fish stew. But Luke comes home empty-handed in the middle of the night. He claims that he's completely forgotten about my request. I don't say anything at all. All I notice is a strand of long hair sticking to Luke's collar that doesn't belong to me. Some time later, I see the fish stew I never got to eat in a photo that Luke's colleague, Ruby Pollard, has uploaded to her social media feed. The caption reads, "Luke ordered this dish for me. He knows that I love fish stew from this particular restaurant the most. I'm so touched by his gesture!" In the photo, I see a pair of familiar hands picking out fish bones from the meat tenderly just for Ruby.

On my fifth birthday with Zachary Murdock, I sit once again in front of a full table of cold food, just like every year before. Zachary had promised, as always, to spend the day with me. And, as always, he breaks that promise. This year, it's because his childhood sweetheart wanted to shoot a set of "artistic photos". She invited him and a few of his close buddies to be part of it. Without hesitation, he ditches me again and runs straight into her arms. At 11:00 pm, his childhood sweetheart posts a photo to her social media and sets it so that only I can see it. In the picture, four men are in nothing but black briefs and Windsor-knotted ties. They kneel around her while she is draped in sheer fabric like a goddess. The caption reads, "Some people beg for crumbs, but I own the entire bakery." I take a screenshot. Then, I send it to the girlfriends of all three of Zachary’s best buddies. If they all look down on me this much, let's hope they don't end up on their knees begging me someday.

A few weeks before our wedding, Rodney Luther's stepmother, Jessica Flaine, posts a photo on her social media. In the photo, she's wearing the wedding dress I picked out, holding a bouquet of red roses, and shyly leaning toward Rodney, asking for a kiss. The caption reads—"Dreams fulfilled." I don't call Rodney in tears or throw a fit like I used to. I simply like the post and leave a comment. "Screenshot sent to Rodney's father." Not long after, Jessica deletes the post, and Rodney's phone call follows immediately. "Ivana, you're being so petty! The rest of my days belong to you. It's only today that I'm fulfilling a small dream of Jessica's. Hurry up and explain things to my dad! "Come on, be good. I've got a gift for you." A scoff escapes me. "Rodney, do you hear me clearly? Go explain it to your father yourself!"