Romance Anonymous

This was the sixth time Dante Falcone had slammed that damned divorce agreement down in front of me, forcing me to sign. This time, I did not resist. He set down the pen. In that instant, a suffocating silence filled the room. His deep brown eyes locked onto me, sharp and probing, as if he were trying to see straight through my soul. "Why so obedient this time, Sofia? Or are you planning another trick? Don't forget who you are. Mrs. Falcone." I removed the ruby ring that symbolized the mistress of the family, the one he had placed on my finger when he proposed to me in Sicily. I set it gently on the desk, a surface stained with both blood and money. My voice was calm, lifeless. "No, Dante. I'm just... tired. Your world is too loud."

On our wedding day, my wife's first love, Hank Scott, threatened to slit his wrists. She ignored him and went through with the ceremony anyway, until news arrived that he was dead, his blood staining the ground. From that moment on, Shirley Lowell withdrew into a convent, becoming the cold, distant woman everyone knew. In the name of atonement, she forced me to copy the Bible a thousand times and kneel in endless prayer, grinding me down until I was crippled. Bound to a wheelchair, I asked her for a divorce. She refused, saying we owed Hank a debt and had to atone for it together. She used my family to threaten me, keeping me by her side and tormenting me for the rest of my life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on our wedding day. This time, I chose to push her toward Hank. I would become the first love in her heart, the one who led her onto the path of devout faith.

I was the perfect wife. For three years, I built my husband’s empire, gave him my love, my loyalty, my designs. And how did Victor Hale repay me? He stole my womb. He stole my daughter. He stole my freedom. That was the day Aurora Hale died. Now I live as Rhea Ashford — and I want blood. One reckless night, I mistake Damien Voss, a ruthless crime-lord biker with a wicked smile, for his powerful CEO twin brother. One bed. One touch. One unforgettable sin. When Damien discovers who I am and what I want, he makes me a deal: marry him, and he’ll give me the power and protection to ruin the man who destroyed me. It’s easy. He wants me, so I become his bride. I want revenge, so he becomes my weapon. But Damien isn’t just temptation in leather and ink. He’s dangerous. Addictive. A man who plays by no rules but his own. And in this contract marriage tangled with lust and lies, I can’t tell if I’m the one using him— Or if he’s already claimed me as his. TW: This story is intended for 18+ mature audiences only. It contains explicit sexual content (including kink, elements of BDSM dynamics), strong language, and other mature themes. Reader discretion is advised. BOOK 1 OF THE PRINCES OF SIN TRILOGY

He laid me on the sheets, climbed over me, caged me with his arms. "Last chance to run," he said, voice low. "I need the money," I whispered, feeling so tiny in his arms."You're soaking," he muttered. "Virgin or not, your pussy wants this. "I moaned, looking away, couldn’t help it, "Eyes on me, sweetheart," he pushed his tip in slowly. "Fuck," he groaned. "So tight." He fucked me like he was claiming something. "Come for me," he whispered in my ears, moving faster. "Damien," I cried out his name as I came. "That's it," he growled. After a long minute he pulled out slowly. "One night," he said again, almost like a reminder... Weeks later, I walked through the quiet hall of my school. A massive portrait stared back at me, Damien Blackwood the Principal Benefactor and Owner of Columbia University. Same man who’d just taken my virginity for money. My stomach dropped. "Oh fuck... what have I done?"

Ann Willow is a human that does not know just how connected she is to a Supernatural world that she did not know to exist until three new students show up for class one day. Ann soon realizes that Vampires, Werewolves, and everything in between are real. What will become of Ann when she falls in love with the Supernaturals of this new world she finds herself in? (Heads up - English is not my first language but feel free to point out mistakes)

Unwillingly, once again, because of that man, tears fell from my eyes. "I have cried a lot because of that man; now I am going to go to him only with the divorce papers." Roselyn, a young woman who has been trapped in a loveless and emotionally abusive marriage with Alexander, reaches her breaking point when his cruel words and actions finally push her to take a stand. With tears streaming down her face, she declares that she's had enough and decides to confront him—but this time, she's not going to beg for his love or attention. Instead, she's going to serve him with divorce papers, marking the end of their toxic relationship. As she prepares for the confrontation, Roselyn gathers her thoughts and emotions, steeling herself for Alexander's potential reactions. She knows that he may try to manipulate or control her, but she's determined to stand firm and take back control of her life. When the moment of truth arrives, Roselyn meets Alexander with a sense of calm and determination. She serves him with the divorce papers, and his reaction is a mix of shock, anger, and regret. But Roselyn stands firm, refusing to be swayed by his emotions. In the aftermath of the confrontation, Roselyn deals with the emotional fallout, processing her feelings and coming to terms with the end of her marriage. She begins to focus on self-care and self-discovery, learning to let go of the past and embrace her newfound freedom.

Clayton Amos finally agrees to marry me during my fifth year as the antagonist of a novel. On the day of my wedding, the chandelier in the middle of the hall suddenly snaps and falls. At the most critical moment, he shoves me aside and runs over to protect Gladys Dawson, the protagonist of the novel, and his first love. Clayton's arm is slashed as a result, and blood pours out of the wound, dyeing his pristine white suit red. Meanwhile, Gladys remains unharmed in his arms. I hold a hand against the bleeding wound on my neck and finally accept the fact that Clayton never loved me. This is when the system appears and asks me, "Hailey Paltrow, would you like to abort your mission now?" I nod in silent response. "Since he's going to end up losing all four of his limbs and ultimately wish for death, I'll let him have it."

As the fated mate of the future Alpha of the Silvermoon pack, I've been waiting for Ethan Ford for three whole years. When he gets close to me, my wolf howls obnoxiously because of the mate bond between us. Despite that, he refuses to complete the marking ceremony on the night of the full moon. After that, Ethan shows signs of obsessive infatuation with Ella Turner, my stepsister. He claims that Ella is his true love and goes as far as to release his possessive pheromones all over the pack territory while completely disregarding the pack's rules just so he can woo her. This time, my wolf no longer howls in sorrow, nor do I attempt to get him to stay with me via our mind-link. Instead, I just watch Ethan and Ella's lovey-dovey interactions calmly. At that moment, I've already taken the initiative to block Ethan out of my mind forever.

My son, Kaden Watt, shouted at me menacingly, “I don’t have to pretend anymore! I bet you didn’t know that I could hear your conversations with the System. I never once thought of you as my father. Every bit of it was an act. A man that desperate makes me sick.” My wife, Silvia Watt, walked in with her true love, her affectionate eyes reflecting hostility. “If it weren’t for fear of the System punishing Simon Bartone, I would’ve filed for divorce a long time ago. My son doesn’t deserve a spineless man for a father. Watch yourself, or I’ll come after you.” The trio stood there, as if they had their perfect ending. I curled my lips. Well, who was to say that I wasn’t acting too? A player in a game could never fall in love with NPCs.

In the third year after my death, the one who remained faithfully by my wife's side was still the bionic robot I had painstakingly designed. It looked exactly like me and carried within it every detail of my mannerisms, speech, and habits. The only difference was that it never lost its temper with her. Because of that, my wife never sensed anything amiss. Yet each night, she brought home a different man, deliberately testing "me," desperate to see the wild jealousy and rage I once wore so vividly. Then, one day, her childhood sweetheart and first love, shoved "me" off the balcony. It was only then, in her horror, that my wife realized… "I" didn't bleed.