Sakura Kasugano Street Fighter

In my final year of high school, my parents died, leaving me nothing but a crumbling brick house. And yet, I somehow got myself a younger brother. He was a second-year student at our school, at the top of his grade. But no one respected him. Even when he was bullied, the teachers turned a blind eye. Why? Because even if others didn't beat him, his drunken father did it every day, while his cowardly mother never dared to fight back. I dragged him home with all my strength, patched up his wounds, and kept him with me for several days. Later, when his mother was beaten to death, I called the police and had his father arrested. "Hey," I told him, "from now on, live with me. I don't have any family left. Call me sister, and I'll put you through school." He dreamed of getting into a prestigious university. So I dropped out, set up a street stall, sold my own blood, and even took illegal jobs just to support him. When he graduated, he said he wanted to start a business. I gave him every cent of my savings. And then one day, I watched him stand beneath the dazzling lights, a radiant girl at his side, holding a trophy for a youth entrepreneurship award. I looked down at the cancer diagnosis in my hands. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. In the end, I had raised him into someone I could no longer reach. It was time for me to leave the stage.

After I came back to life, the first thing I did was hand that five-carat diamond ring—yes, the one my husband gave me—to his mother. The very woman who spent years picking me apart like it was her favorite pastime. In my last life, that ring was a custom New Year's gift. He paid a ridiculous amount for it. I actually thought it meant something. One afternoon, I was out shopping when I walked right into a bridal party taking pictures. The bride glanced at my hand, saw the ring, and her entire expression changed. She stormed over and slapped me, accusing me of being a shameless mistress trying to steal her man. I stood there, completely stunned. She was wearing the exact same ring. Before I could explain, her friends grabbed me. They dragged me aside, tore my clothes, hit me, and stomped on my hand until I couldn't move my fingers. They carved the word "mistress" into my face and paraded me through the street like some kind of public disgrace. I died there on the pavement. When my husband finally appeared, he didn't fight for me. He just signed off on a settlement, as if my life were nothing more than a piece of paperwork. Widowed that morning, married to the bride by nightfall. His mother instantly welcomed the new woman, all because she was pregnant. And then I opened my eyes again… back on the very day he first placed that diamond ring in my hand.

" This is merely transactional," I said, his hand snaked around my neck, stealing my breath. He pulled me close. So close that I couldn’t see anything but him. His scent flooded my lungs leaving me breathless and for some reason, I liked it. " There's nothing transactional about the things I want to do to you, Srce moje," He said, his cold fingers brushed against my clit. **** Genevieve Henderson, CEO of H.Tech, loses everything in a single night—her company, her marriage, and the family she thought she could trust. Betrayed by her husband and cast aside by those who once called her their own, she is left with nothing but heartbreak and fury. Broken and desperate, Genevieve stumbles into the street—and straight into the path of her greatest enemy. Kade Petrović. Her business rival. A ruthless billionaire. The last man she should ever depend on. After saving her life, Kade makes her an offer she can’t afford to refuse: a one-year marriage in exchange for revenge. He will help her reclaim everything stolen from her—power, wealth, dignity—but the price is high. Trusting him means stepping into a world ruled by lies, contracts, and dangerous desires. She never planned to trust her rival. She never planned to fall for her husband. But in a marriage built on vengeance and secrets, love may be the most dangerous weapon of all. Will their alliance bring justice—or destroy them both?

My husband's childhood friend, Ayna Sweeney, has a compulsive sexual behavior disorder. To maintain her pure image, she secretly uses black magic to transfer part of her desire onto me. She seduces my husband, Eric Morgan, and has an affair with him, while I am overwhelmed by uncontrollable urges. I grab men on the street and beg them to sleep with me. Meanwhile, she is praised across the internet as a pure and innocent lady. After my disgraceful behavior is caught on camera and spreads online, Eric is furious and turns the blame on me. He scolds, "I've been busy lately and haven't been home much. Yet, you, the wife of the richest man, have no sense of shame at all!" I cry and tell him I've been set up by Ayna, but he dismisses it. He retorts, "Ayna and I grew up together. I know her better than you do! Just because you're jealous, you come up with such ridiculous accusations. How evil of you!" But every time the two of them secretly meet up, I lose control and desperately seek out anyone to quell my thirst for intimacy. I become a woman despised by everyone in high society. At a lavish banquet, I even start taking off my clothes in public and end up beaten to death by furious high society wives. When I open my eyes again, I am back to the day they first begin their affair.

Housing prices collapsed. My parents ran a real estate business. They and their long-time family friend, the Goodwin family, went into bankruptcy. My parents had me and my younger sister draw lots to decide who would marry into the Goodwin family to fulfill an old engagement. In my previous life, I drew the short stick. From that moment, I became a slave to both families. During the day, I needed to work to pay off the Goodwin family’s debt. At night, I needed to deliver food to cover my parents’ financial losses. I survived on scraps and slept in the cold. I continued to work even when I coughed up blood. That day, I went all out and finally secured a multimillion-dollar business deal. My heart burst with excitement. I was eager to tell them the good news. Across the street, I saw my parents get off a Rolls-Royce with wide grins. They dressed up in luxury brands from head to toe. Then, I saw my husband, Alfred, gently wrap one of his arms around my glamorous sister’s shoulder. I wanted to rush over and question them. But a speeding truck slammed into me and sent me flying away. I lay in a pool of blood while staring at them indignantly. I heard them chuckle softly. “What a pity… She was so close to enjoying a good life.” When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the day I drew the lots. Since they liked to pretend to be broke, I would make it a reality!

My husband Preston smashed up the solo art show I'd spent three years building for Vivian, the poor girl we had sponsored through college. "Chloe! What the hell did you send Vivian?!" "She read your goddamn text and suffered a depressive episode! She nearly jumped off the rooftop!" I looked at his furious face and the whole thing struck me as absurd. "Preston. What exactly did I send? I told her that today was the opening of my show and asked her not to call you during it." "She's sick! Why do you have to make every little thing a fight! If anything happens to her because of you — I'll never forgive you." With that, he didn't even glance at me. He turned and bolted back out into the storm. I didn't cry. I didn't even have the energy to be furious. I turned to leave, but in the rain, I ran into Rowan—a classmate from college. He used to be the most popular guy at our school — sweet and hot. But now he was severely injured. The torrential rain had soaked his shirt, revealing his perfect abs beneath. Without hesitation, I took him back to my apartment. Preston showed up pounding on the door, eyes red with rage. "Chloe — I'm gone for an hour and you drag some guy off the street into our bed?" I sneered and stepped in front of Rowan. "If you can play free therapist to some other woman, why can't I try being a philanthropist?"

17-year old Star Sullivan was no stranger to loss, having recently endured the heartbreaking passing of her parents. Struggled to come to terms with her grief, she found herself uprooted from her familiar surroundings and thrust into a new town under the care of her godparents. The weight of her sorrow hung heavy on her shoulders casting a shadow over her once bright spirit. Star navigates the unfamiliar street and faces of her new home, a glimmer of intrigue caught her eye - a student with eyes as silver as moonlight, a captivating mystery etched in every glance. Drawn to this enigmatic figure, she found herself unable to resist the pull of curiosity that tugged at her heart. His mysterious past whispered secrets that beckoned to be unraveled, a puzzle waiting to be pieced together. With each passing day, Star found herself entangled in a web of intrigue and emotion, her heart torn between the allure of the unknown and the safety of familiarity. As the threads of secrets began to unravel, revealing truths that shook the foundation of her newfound life, Star stood at a crossroads, her heart torn asunder. Would she choose to stand by her new friends and family, embracing the complexities of their intertwined destinies, or would she heed the call of uncertainty, fleeing to the safety of the hills, away from the tumultuous storm that threatened to consume her? Only time held the answers to the questions that plagued her restless mind. The clock ticked away, each passing moment a reminder of the choices that lay ahead, the paths diverging into the unknown. In the quiet of the night, as the stars whispered tales of destiny and fate, Star found herself standing on the precipice of a decision that would shape the course of her future.

It took me ten years to become the right hand to Damian Costello, the Consigliere of the Costello crime family. From a nobody to the woman wearing his engagement ring. But two weeks before the wedding, I decided to throw that ring away. Everyone in the family knew how hard I had fought all these years just to stand by Damian's side. I gave up the chance to become a top trader on Wall Street, willingly becoming Damian's assistant, his shadow. This man was infamous for his coldness and exacting nature, keeping everyone at arm's length. So I hid my sharp edges, spending a decade wearing down his icy exterior with gentleness. I cleansed the blood from every dollar he made. I became a necessity to him, as essential as the air he breathed. I thought that after ten years, I had finally made my presence indispensable. And finally earned what looked, to outsiders, like a glimmer of his affection. The family's notoriously aloof genius actually remembered my birthday. He even made an exception, letting me spend the night in his private study when I was unwell. He didn't even push me away when, emboldened by wine, I pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. If the Don's daughter, Isabella, hadn't returned from Italy, I might have kept playing my part, clinging to that false dream forever. But sadly, there are no ‘ifs’. I am going to give up everything here and leave you.

*** What would you do if you were adopted by one of the wealthiest and most prestigious families in New York City, only to be treated like garbage for ten years just because you’re diagnosed with dyslexia? What would you do if on the third anniversary of your marriage, you find out that your dearly beloved husband is not only cheating on you with your spoiled, bratty adopted sister, but he also asks her to marry him behind your back? In Astrid’s case, she’s furious and heartbroken. All she wants is revenge. So she accepts a stranger’s invitation to a sex club and ends up enjoying a rough, passionate night with Silvan Rourke, the ruthless demon king of Wall Street… and her step brother. When Astrid finds out that she’s the heir to a winery company worth millions of dollars, she flees New York City but makes a grand return five years later to exact her revenge on the Montessori family for the years of abuse she suffered in their home. This time, she’s not alone. Astrid returns with little twin girls — the results of her passionate night with Silvan. But there’s a problem. The girls bear a striking resemblance to Silvan Rourke and the grumpy billionaire is starting to suspect that they might be his. Ultimately, Astrid has two missions: she must exact her revenge on the Montessori family and also prevent Silvan from finding out that Zoey and Zahra are his children. Will she succeed, or will forbidden chemistry spark between the step-siblings once again? Only one way to find out!!

After closing a 100-million-dollar business deal, I dip into an ordinary-looking cafe by the street on a whim. "I'll have a cup of cappuccino, please." The waitress, who's immaculately dressed, rolls her eyes at me before sashaying toward me. In a fake, nasally tone, she says, "I'm sorry, but there aren't any servers here. I'm the owner of this place." She eyes me up and down before continuing, "The prices here are relatively high for regular people. Are you sure you want to order coffee from me?" I pause in the act of massaging my temple. Finally, I scan around the cafe. "Your cafe is nothing to look at. Are you saying that you're not going to serve regular people, then?" The owner's friend jumps up to her feet instantly at my comment. Then, she starts berating me angrily. "Gianna has opened this cafe just to burn her free time and contribute to the community by giving them a taste of what it feels like to be rich! How dare you question her! "Do you even know who Gianna is? She's the successor of Luxara Corporation! Her boyfriend is Levi Anderson, the CEO of Miller Group! How dare you talk to her like this! You won't be able to make a living in Westford anymore!" I raise an eyebrow in response. The man who had kneeled before me with tears rolling down his cheeks while begging me to invest in his company… was the boss of Luxara Corporation, if I remembered correctly. Also, isn't Levi that live-in husband of mine?