Rotten Apples

When my body was being dismembered, my fiance was helping my cousin choose her wedding dress. When he received my distress call, he said with disgust, "I hope you never come back! You can die with the bastard in your womb! Don't ever call me again. The mentioning of your name makes me sick!" After that, he found a body part of me in a water tank on the rooftop of a hotel. He thought it was a prank, so he actually ordered white lilies and candles to be delivered to my doorstep. Only when he found my head buried in the grass under his feet on the day of our wedding did he realize that it wasn't a prank.

“This isn't right—,” my voice cracked, slow moans slipping through my lips. “Sienna—” he called, his husky voice like hushed whispers in my ear. “Why….why do you say so? You don't want me? Don't you like what I do to you? The way I touch you….” He didn't stop. His fingers kept working their magic inside of me, slipping in and out in a pace I wouldn't call gentle. “I—I. S—Soren!” I jerked when he dipped deeper, hitting my core. “Sshhh….” Finally letting my pussy free, he lay me flat on the bed, my body stark naked before him. Sweaty and dripping hot with an ache for ecstasy. “Daddy wants you and you wouldn't argue, okay?” I nodded, without further hesitation. He had so much control over me. One I couldn't handle. He was so possessive. Fucking domineering. But I liked it, even though he was my stepbrother. Even though I knew this was so wrong. ***** Stuck between two stepbrothers. Sienna is left to make a decision, would she give in to the forbidden desires building within her? And when she chooses at last who will it be? The one who makes her heart flutter and her pussy drip or the one that wraps shield around her like a cardigan in winter?

My art studio caught fire. I risked my life to pull my boyfriend, Vincent Parcelle, out of the flames. Vincent wanted to rush back inside to save his first love, Tammy Reese, who was trapped inside. But I stopped him. The fire destroyed her face and left her legs amputated. Unable to face her disfigurement and disability, Tammy took her own life by overdosing on pills. Afterward, Vincent and I moved forward and got married. On our wedding night, he slit my throat without thinking twice. "If it weren't for you, Tammy wouldn't be dead. Go to hell and pay for your sins!" Only after dying did I realize—Vincent had hated me to the core ever since the fire. For some reason, I was reborn. Grateful that the heavens had given me another chance at life, I ran without looking back this time. To hell with love. I was determined to survive.

Three years into our marriage, Chris Davis doted on me deeply. But I accidentally discovered that he had been cheating on me for two years. In front of that woman, everything he said showed his disdain towards me. "Who would marry a cripple?" "She's like a dead fish in bed." "She's just a deaf person who makes me want to throw up now." Later, I took the initiative to file for divorce. But he went crazy. Kneeling in front of me, every word was filled with regret...

My husband's first love, the woman he had once idolized, had left him for a powerful and influential school bully. Years later, she found herself in the midst of a bitter divorce and in need of a lawyer. And who else but my husband, now an accomplished attorney, ended up back in her orbit? As he moved toward her once more, I decided it was time to step aside. After all, there was no stopping someone determined to chase after a lost cause.

I was setting up a weekend shopping list on the tablet my husband had just replaced for our home system. A notification popped up. He had forgotten to log out of a shared, encrypted family calendar— one I didn’t recognize. There was only one unfamiliar profile photo. I tapped it. A list titled “My Little Princess – Personal Notes” filled the screen. My Little Princess doesn’t drink alcohol—only mineral water or herbal tea. No late nights. She needs absolute quiet to sleep. She gets anxious easily—keep fresh white lilies in the house and her favorite vanilla chocolates on hand. I scrolled slowly, my expression unreadable. The final entry was bolded. Highlighted. “Next Wednesday: take my Little Princess to choose her wedding crown.” I closed the screen. Then I picked up my phone and called my husband. “Love,” I said gently. “Does your Little Princess prefer a classic European bridal crown… or something more traditional? I thought I could help you choose.”

In my first life, I believed love was salvation. I tore my future apart for two men who had grown up beside me—Marcus Black and Damian Knight. I chose one of them, only to be abandoned on my wedding day for Elena Rivers. My grandmother died that same day, shattered by grief. When I was at my lowest, the other man took my hand and promised he would never betray me. I believed him. I married him. And slowly, my world went cold. I thought his distance was regret. I thought my failing health was fate. Until the night I was dying, and I watched him run past me—to save Elena, whose injuries were nothing more than a scratch. That was when I understood. My life had never been a love story. It was a carefully scripted game. After my death, I learned the truth: Marcus and Damian had already written their wills, leaving everything to Elena Rivers. They had sabotaged my education, manipulated my career, and even fabricated a chronic illness to keep me weak, dependent, and easy to control. They never wanted me to succeed. They only wanted me quiet—so Elena could shine. But fate gave me another chance. This time, I tore up my admission letter to Harvard. This time, I rejected their confessions before they could cage me again. In this life, I will not be the woman they use, betray, or discard. I will live for myself. And I will never walk the same path twice.

I was nine months pregnant when the Wolf Council sent a resource report to the Luna’s quarters. It listed my mate’s monthly distributions. For two years straight, my husband—the pack’s Alpha—had been secretly providing the same female wolf with territory access, protection, and supplies. Without missing a single month. The first record dated back to two years ago. The same month I lost my first pup. A notification appeared—A contact request. The note read: “A woman kept by an Alpha.” I was strangely calm, one hand rested on my swollen belly as I accepted. She messaged immediately. “You saw the report, didn’t you?” I didn’t reply, I opened her feed instead. The earliest post was dated April 21st, two years ago. A female wolf leaned against an Alpha’s chest. His face was cropped out—but the mark on his shoulder was clear. I recognized it instantly. My mate’s Alpha mark. The caption read: “Thank you for choosing me on my coming-of-age night.” April 21st. That was the night I lay bleeding in the healing room, losing my unborn pup. He had told me he was away on pack business. I kept scrolling. She trained freely in Alpha-only areas. Used resources reserved for the Luna. Was guarded as if she already belonged at his side. Every post carried the same message: He chose her. Pinned at the top was a medical report—She was pregnant—With the Alpha’s pup. I put the device down and returned to our bedroom. Then I received it—Photos. Videos. She sent them to me on purpose— to flaunt that the love I had once been so proud of had already rotted beyond repair. I sat down slowly, my pup shifting inside me, pain spreading through my chest. Only then did I understand—He had betrayed me completely. This kind of love—I don’t want it. This pack—I won’t stay in it. When my pup is born, I will leave—And I will take his heir with me. Let the Alpha search every territory, scour every border, tear the pack apart in regret— he will never find us.

I was born with a strange condition. I couldn't recognize faces and could only identify people by their clothes. Vincent Lancaster, my boyfriend, never minded. He said it didn't change the way he loved me. That was, until our wedding day. He answered a phone call. His childhood friend, Grace Langley, was in labor, life hanging by a thread, and she demanded he come immediately. My voice shook with despair. "Vincent! If you drive away now, we'll never be husband and wife!" But he left anyway, not looking back. Grace had always loved seeing him in white, so he threw aside the black suit I had sewn for him with my own hands and changed into white. A year later, Vincent returned. By then, my belly was swollen with life, and I was holding onto another man while hosting a baby shower. And the man wore the black suit Vincent had thrown away. Vincent went mad, claiming he was my husband, but no one believed him.

"One word. Surrogacy." "Two words. Not happening." Elodie shook her head her response very fast. ———————————— Elodie, co-owner of the Gates Tech Company, a multinational technology company is forced to opt for surrogacy when she can't stand her husband, Micah Gates; a sexist, egoistic, manipulative, and power-hungry man; the thought of carrying his child repulses her. Allegra, her best friend suggests a surrogate app that allows users to find their perfect surrogate mother. Eira Faez has been a surrogate for four years, after joining the surrogate app she finally gets a match with a mysterious profile only to realize a wealthy couple needed her. A lot hid behind closed blinds. What is brought to light a facade created by PR stunts to boost the image of Gates Tech Company. However, nothing remains in the dark for long and everything is revealed to not only the families, but the public. Love unexpectedly blossoms between Elodie and Eira who are instantly smitten with each other in their first encounter.