Saans Sakin Thi Mga Nobela at Kwento

Veronica thought her dreams were coming true when she landed an internship at Ca-son Corp, but everything came crashing down when the CEO suddenly dies, putting her job in danger. Desperate to save her career, she agrees to a contract marriage with the CEO's successor, Arthur Callaghan. But as they go through this fake marriage, the chemistry between them makes it difficult to keep things purely contractual and they find themselves fighting not only for their jobs, but for their lives. With unexpected turns at every corner, Veronica must uncover the truth behind a deadly conspiracy before it's too late. Will she be able to survive the threats and find true love in the process?

Some secrets are buried for a reason. Others are waiting to destroy you. Twenty-two-year-old Emilie's world shatters when a dark force murders her nanny before her eyes and she realizes the monsters from her nightmares are real. Fleeing to Silvercrest territory, she saves the life of Kai, the charismatic Alpha's son, never expecting that one act of kindness would drag her into a supernatural war centuries in the making. Welcomed into the pack's palace, Emilie discovers the impossible: her parents are alive, she's part of an ancient prophecy, and everything she knew was a lie. But when Kai betrays her to secure his power, she falls into the hands of Lysander the feared Supreme Alpha everyone believed was dead. Lysander is darkness incarnate, a ruler who commands from the shadows with secrets as dangerous as his touch. As Emilie trains to unlock her dormant powers, she uncovers the truth about the lost kingdom of Valdris, a prophecy that could save or doom them all, and a bond with Lysander that defies fate itself. But the dark sorcerer Thane Nightshade is rising, and he'll burn the world to possess Emilie's power. Caught between destiny and destruction, with her fated mate by her side, Emilie must master abilities she doesn't understand and trust a love she never expected or watch everything she's fought for crumble to ash. In a world where prophecies kill and love is the deadliest weapon, the only question is: will she fulfill her destiny, or become the darkness everyone fears?

During the third year of our marriage, my husband's ex—whom he dated for eight years—suddenly shares a photo of a ten-million-dollar marital home on her social media. It's captioned, "I've finally gotten a mansion! Who's the best at dating? I am!" I gape at the image—I see my husband swiping his card at the real estate sales office in a corner of the photo. I leave a question mark in the comments. In the next second, my husband calls me to tell me off. "I'm just making good on a promise I made her when we were dating—to buy her a marital home. Why did you have to go insult her like that? Are you evil enough to turn me into a man who goes back on his word?" That evening, his ex shares another photo of a million-dollar renovation bill. I know it's a gift from my husband to appease her, but I don't care anymore…

When I have a pen in my hand and paper before me, I think I want to write something to cast every despair in my pathetic life away. I have a figure of a depressed guy whose fate is too much: saving the world. He is not stupid nor even smart, he is not ugly nor even good looking. He is just a nijikon (A person who loves an anime character more than the real one) like me. He once thought to give up on life, but an event changes his life. I'm sure you guys start guessing how the story goes, but too bad, this one is different than the others.

Two years ago, she was convicted of deliberately injuring the woman he loved. To him, her crime was unforgivable. He had her found guilty and was thrown into prison, destroying not only her leg but also every shred of her pride. Now, two years later, she believes she has finally clawed her way out of hell. She swears never to cross paths with him again, never to let their life interact again. But some devils never let go. And the man who once ruined her… is the very one who refuses to release her.

I loved Lucian for years and gave up everything to save his life, but all I got in return was disgust in his eyes. In my past life, I was forced to become his mate, but in the end, I died under the claws of the feral wolves he sent after me, and he even snapped my brother Marcus's neck with his own teeth. The night I was reborn, I made a different choice. I let my rival Ayara have what she wanted. I married the brutal Prince Draven in her place, the one rumors said would "kill his bride," and she got to run off and save Lucian. But when the wedding car door opened, the person who stepped out was the gentle boy I'd met when I was five years old. "Take a closer look, sweetheart. Am I really as terrifying as the rumors say?" His amber eyes were full of warmth and affection. Turns out, he'd staged twelve fake weddings just waiting for me to grow up. By the time Lucian got on his knees and begged me to come back, it was already too late; I was Draven's Luna now.

During the mandatory freshman orientation camp, my skin had flared up with a severe allergic reaction, so I didn't use the plastic washbasin the school handed out. Instead, I opened my suitcase and took out the custom silver basin I had brought from home. My roommate, Louisa Carter, immediately made a snide remark, drawling, "You're really something, huh? Kids from broke families like us are lucky to have any basin at all." I didn't bother responding. I simply pulled out my facial essence to do a cold compress, but she immediately rushed over, slapped the bottle out of my hand, and jabbed a finger at my face. "Bet you get tens of thousands a month for living expenses. You have a sugar daddy, don't you? Don't you feel guilty making your folks work their fingers to the bone back on the farm? People like you don't deserve to be at our school. I'm reporting you to the student counselor." I laughed in disbelief and slapped her. … The next morning, the family photo I'd left on my desk had been slashed to ribbons. Across the back, carved in ink, were the words: 'Daughter of a homewrecker. Go to hell.' I went straight to the police. While officers pulled the dorm security footage, our student counselor and the university president rushed in. The moment the president saw the man whose face had been cut apart in my photo, his legs nearly buckled. He almost dropped to his knees.

⚠️ Trigger Warnings: Contains explicit sexual content, consensual power dynamics, manipulation, dominance/submission themes, obsession, emotional degradation, and morally gray characters. 18+ only. Reader discretion is advised. My Reluctant Plaything is a raw, intoxicating collection of gay erotica where lust blurs the lines between love and control. Every story is a clash of dominance and resistance of men who crave power and those who refuse to kneel... until they do. From ruthless mafia heirs and calculating professors to damaged billionaires and possessive strangers, these stories dive deep into forbidden desires, reluctant submission, and the thrilling high of surrendering to the one man you shouldn't want. It’s not about romance. It’s about obsession. They said no. But their bodies said everything else.

I bought an apartment during a market slump, $30,000 below what others had paid for the same layout. I had just finished moving in when Linda Carver, the neighbor across the hall, stormed over. "Same unit, same building, yet you paid $30,000 less than we did. You need to make up the difference!" I froze for a second. She took it as fear and raised her voice, "If you had the guts to snap it up cheap, you’d better be ready to compensate the rest of us. Otherwise, don’t expect to live here in peace." I looked at her, so self-righteous it was almost absurd, and I laughed. I had just been discharged from a psychiatric hospital. Threaten me? If anyone wasn’t going to live in peace, it was her.

My African American Mom married a rich Japanese man. As I moved the skeleton of my new bed next to the window, I felt a gaze focused on me. Outside my window, was the house next door. The house shape was similar to ours, so it also had a window facing mine at the same level. Standing there on the other side was a skinny Japanese boy. As soon as I laid eyes on him, he stiffened, then shyly smiled and waved. His hair was all over the place, seeing him in his tanktop I thought to myself that he must've just rolled out of bed. But wasn't it the afternoon already? The boy says something but of course I can't hear him with my window closed so I slide it open. "Eto....hi." He tried in English. If someone were to tell me later I'd come to care about him deeply, I'd find that hard to believe. For as long as I could remember I've always felt empty. And that emptiness, I hid on instinct.