Shakespeare Holding A Skull

She never meant to steal her sister’s life. She never meant to steal her sister’s groom. On the night before the wedding, tragedy struck. Her glamorous twin sister was left in a coma, and with her last whispered plea, she begged: “Don’t let him know. Be me… until I wake up.” Now, she stands at the altar wearing her sister’s gown, holding the hand of Adrian Cruz — the powerful young CEO every woman dreams of marrying. But Adrian doesn’t know the truth. He doesn’t know his bride has a twin. He doesn’t know the woman in his arms is someone else entirely. And yet… the more he touches her, the more obsessed he becomes. Because this “new wife” isn’t the cold, ambitious woman he courted. She’s different. Softer. Addictive. Irresistible. She swore she would protect her sister’s secret. But every night she spends in his arms pushes her deeper into forbidden desire. And when her sister wakes up… She’ll have to choose: Give him up. Or let the lie destroy them all.

My mother claims my husband has cheated on me and pushes me to get a divorce. I want to collect evidence before proceeding with anything—if it's true, I have to uphold my rights. Yet she causes a scene at an art exhibition I've worked on for three years, humiliating me in public and making me sound like a gold digger. "How are you any different from a prostitute when you're holding this dumb exhibition with a man's money? I didn't raise you to be a gold digger! How can you be so revolting?" She slashes the million-dollar paintings in the exhibition, claiming that she's doing this for my good. She wants me to see the error of my ways and return to the right path. Meanwhile, I clutch my bloody hand, which she slashed with her blade. I say, "You say you want me to return to the right path, but is that what it really is? You want me to divorce my legally wedded husband, who's a CEO, without a penny to my name. "Then, you want me to marry a 45-year-old cheap man who has a child and no money? He even wants me to support him!"

After going bankrupt, I do the unthinkable for my gravely ill younger brother, Ricky Ashford, and climb into the bed of Damien Blackwood, the notorious mafia boss. When his smoldering gaze sweeps over my shirtless body, I stay perfectly still. The reason is that I'm afraid to set off this infamous man in front of me. However, the next instant, his lips are everywhere on my skin, and the night dissolves into a wild, reckless blur. For three years, I endure every torment in his bed. Thoughts of escape and even suicide cross my mind, but the fact that my brother is fighting for his life in the ICU keeps me going. One day, I accidentally overhear him speaking with his childhood friend, Chloe Sterling. "How long do you plan to toy with your enemy's daughter? You're not falling for her, are you?" "Don't be absurd." "And what about her sickly brother?" "He died long ago." The last thread holding me together snaps. Now, there is no reason left to live. As I prepare to end my life by burning charcoal, tears well up in his eyes as he pleads for me not to leave.

Diego strolled into his apartment, his heels clinking softly against the marble floor. He tossed his blonde wig on the couch, and his soft fingers propelled forward to count the dollar bills in his hands. “You're out crossdressing again?” His uncle, Roberto, a tall imposing figure with gray streaks on his hair walked into the room. “I might just have the perfect job for you,” Roberto chuckled softly and tossed a gun at Diego. “What?!” Diego's breath hitched in his throat as he swallowed the weight of the mission his uncle proposed. Cross dressing was one thing that Diego did with ease. There was no way he could do what his uncle requested; assassinating the infamous mafia lord of the Rocco empire. He stood in front of a mirror, holding the gun that Roberto had handed to him. There was no way that this soft and delicate hand could pull a trigger. Diego didn't expect that the mafia lord he was set up against was going to be a man who'll make his heart flutter. He tried to resist, bracing himself to complete his mission. But things only got heated when he found himself “entangled in the rival's hold.”

The Moon Goddess offered me her protection. If I died, I'd get one chance to be reborn through the werewolf trials. I was born with "sensory impairment." I wasn't an Omega, but I couldn't shift into a wolf. I couldn't see or sense wolves in their lupine forms or their power. When I appeared alongside ninety-nine other trial candidates in an ancient rainforest shrouded in thick fog and darkness, everyone assumed I wouldn't make it past the first day. But here I was, in the terrifying rainforest nests, treating a ghostly wolf pup, drowned for its unusual coat color, as my own little cub. And, I flirted with a bloodthirsty vampire spirit who took pleasure in killing, treating him like a lover. I even befriended the evil twin Hexenbiest, treating them like sisters. The first time we met, I reached out and ran my hand over the vampire's abs. "Nice body," I commented, "just a bit on the short side." He let out a humorless laugh, reattached the head he'd been holding to his neck, and gripped my chin. "I'm six-foot-five," he said. "Want to take another look?"

He is a demi-god. He is powerful, He is fearless, He's ruthless, He's a cold-hearted being. He hated her family. He hated her; only his stance scared her, yet she still felt the butterfly in her stomach. She was supposed to hate him, but despite that, she loves him. "You mean nothing more than a servant." And you will only suffer for the rest of your life. "I will make sure you live in agony all the days of your life." He thundered in his most intimidating aura, forcefully holding her neck. "I am sorry; forgive me." She pleaded, and his emotions became worse. He hates to hear the words "sorry" and "forgiveness," but she wouldn't stop saying those two words, thinking it would ease his heart. Khalid an handsome, rich dude in his late twenties. He curly hair suit him more like a demi-god, he has pinks lips more like a woman, which makes girls crave for him. But he hate disrespecting girls. But the case of his wife is different, why is he so cold towards her. Will she find out the reason for his behaviour?

After her boyfriend had an affair with her sister, Lani was deeply hurt and, at the advice of her best friend, decided to marry a strange guy as revenge. She married Kane, an ordinary office worker with a handsome appearance who took care of cooking and cleaning at home while she pursued her acting career. Life with Kane was relatively peaceful, and they grew close and sweet, like a genuine couple. However, one day, Lani discovered Kane's true identity as the wealthiest billionaire in the city. Unable to accept this deception, Lani leaves without a word, accepting a role as the lead actress in a movie and moving to another city, cutting off all contact with Kane. At this point, upon realizing Lani's disappearance, Kane felt deep regret and sadness. He relentlessly searched for Lani to explain everything. When he coincidentally ran into Lani on the street, Kane slowly followed her back to the hotel, holding her hand and crying, begging Lani for forgiveness, even kneeling to express his remorse. "Baby, I'm so sorry. You can hit me or scold me if you want, but please don't leave me." Everything happened unexpectedly and was chaotic, so what decision will Lani make?

When enemies came seeking revenge, my brother was off with his first love, chasing a golden sunrise over the mountains. I didn't beg him to save us. Instead, I dragged my sister-in-law to safety, dodging killers. In my last life, my brother rushed home, but his first love got caught in an avalanche. Before she passed, she texted him, accusing me and my sister-in-law of humiliating her with money and threatening her to leave him. The fateful trip was her final wish. Her death crushed me with guilt, but my brother dismissed it, holding a perfunctory funeral for her before moving on. I thought he had recommitted to his family, but while my sister-in-law recovered from childbirth, he slipped poison into our meal. "How do I have such a vile sister like you?" he spat. "And you... I only married you for family interests. You two killed the love of my life!" He set the house on fire, burning us alive. Even his newborn son wasn't spared. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that fateful day.

From the time I was ten until I turned eighteen, my parents made me write 299 IOUs. Every time I needed money, I had to borrow it and pay it back as an adult. Then I got into a car accident. I needed money for surgery but was still short by 3,000. With no other options, I went to my parents for help. But they just gave me cold smiles. “Clara, you’re eighteen now. We have no obligation to give you money anymore. If you need it, write another IOU.” While holding back tears, I wrote my 300th IOU. After my surgery, I saw my adopted sister’s social media post. In the pictures, she was celebrating her 18th birthday on a cruise. She was the center of attention, like a princess. My parents had given her a luxury apartment in the city and a Maserati as birthday gifts. Even my childhood friend was looking at her with love in his eyes. She said they were the ones she loved and thanked them for giving her the best of everything. I looked down at the crumpled IOU in my hand and suddenly laughed. Once I paid off my debt, I would no longer need such a family.

Brody Lewis, my fiance, said that I had a rare form of transient global amnesia, which was a sudden, temporary memory loss. Every seven days, I would open my eyes and become the twenty-five-year-old Riley Taylor again. My memories were forever stuck in the past. In my pen drive were videos of Brody taking me on trips, bringing me for treatment, and proposing to me. Everything seemed great between us, but I remembered none of it. “Riley’s still around. Can’t you keep your hands to yourself?” “Don’t worry. It’s Monday tomorrow. After she wakes up, she’ll remember none of it,” Brody said, and my heart sank. “Isn’t this more exciting?” Brody embraced my best friend, and they made out brazenly in front of me. They were not shy about it at all. I wondered just how many times this had happened over the past two years. I ran as tears blurred my vision. When I arrived at a tattoo shop, I grabbed the tattoo artist like a drowning man holding on to a log. Then, I asked the tattoo artist to tattoo these words on my arm in my handwriting. [Leave him.]