Shut The Hell Up And Eat A Cinnamon Roll Guy

On my daughter, Arlene Bale's tenth birthday, I miscarried in a horrific car accident. Before I can even tell my husband, Camden Bale, about my pregnancy, my unborn child has already left me. Devastated, I attempt to call Camden. But after spamming more than a dozen calls, none of them get answered. When I open a social media app, the first thing I see is Camden's first love, Ruth Carroll, celebrating her safe delivery online. The accompanying photo features Camden's tender-looking side profile as he cradles the newborn in his arms. Camden's mother, Patricia Stone, even leaves a long comment there to celebrate the birth of Ruth's baby. "Oh, Ruth! You really are a hero to the Bales! To think that your firstborn is a son who can inherit our family's legacy! That woman who has married into our family for ten years only gave birth to one inferior spawn! "I swear, I will kick that useless woman out sooner or later! Once that happens, you can marry into the Bale family proudly!" With trembling fingers, I click the phone shut. After that, I forcibly get discharged from the hospital and rush home so that I can demand for answers. But that's when my nightmare has just begun. I receive the news of Arlene's unfortunate death. It turns out Camden has left Arlene at home all by herself, which leads to her accidental death. The entire Bale family is too busy celebrating the birth of Ruth's son. No one bothers shedding a tear for Arlene's passing. With hatred brimming in my heart, I fly to another country. Camden Bale, you're the one hurting me from the start till the end. I will make you and your family pay the heavy price.

She was the perfect wife—until he made her the perfect villain. Betrayed by the man she once loved, stripped of her dignity, and cast aside for another woman, Rebecca Belmont walks away from her ruined marriage with nothing—except a burning desire for vengeance. But when she uncovers a shocking secret about her son, the game changes. With the ruthless Kendrick Rayes by her side, Rebecca will take back everything that was stolen from her. And this time, she won’t just destroy Felix Sterling—she’ll make him beg.

"They Drank To Survive. Now, They Can't Live Without Him." Ezra was taken in as a baby and raised in a house that had everything… power, money, and control. To the outside world, they were perfect. For a while, that was enough. Then he found out the truth. He isn’t their brother. He’s the reason they’re still alive. He grew up alongside four vampire brothers, each one stronger, colder, and more dangerous than the last. What no one knows is that Ezra was never truly one of them. He was the reason they lived. His blood keeps them stable. Keeps them alive. At first, it was just something he endured. Then it became something they depended on. And somewhere along the way, the line between need and something else disappeared. So he runs away. He builds a life away from them. One where he’s not being used. One where he finally has control over himself. But it doesn’t last. When he crosses paths with them again, everything comes back, stronger than before. The pull between them isn’t just history anymore. It’s something deeper. Something neither of them can ignore. And when it finally snaps into place, it changes everything. A bond none of them expected. One that ties all five of them together. Now they can’t stay away from each other. And the rest of the world is starting to notice. With enemies closing in and the truth about Ezra’s existence beginning to surface, walking away is no longer an option. Breaking the bond could destroy them. Keeping it might be worse.

Extract Alpha Dominic’s gaze cut through me like ice. “I don’t know you,” he spat, his voice filled with disgust. “How dare you show up out of nowhere, claiming to be my mate, claiming to carry my child, when I have never laid eyes on you before?” “Um, I—” I opened my mouth to explain, to tell him everything, but he cut me off. “Are you here for money? Is that it?” Without waiting for an answer, he reached into his car and pulled out a bundle of cash, flinging it at my feet. “I don’t want to see your filthy face again. I won’t waste my energy rejecting you. We will never be together. The moon goddess must have been mistaken to think a lowlife like you could be my mate.” The money lay scattered on the ground as hot tears blurred my vision. “I’m not lying,” I sobbed. “I am carrying your child.” Wolfless and satisfied, all Odette ever wanted was to be promoted and to become a full-time teacher. But her world came crumbling down when her boss made sexual advances at her, saying it was the only way for her to keep her job. Brokenhearted, she ran from the school, and instead of going home to her family, she went to a hotel, got drunk, ended up in the bed of a stranger, and got pregnant afterwards. She was sent out of the house by her mother until she aborted the baby. Will she abort the baby? Or find the father of her child?

"He was supposed to be cannon fodder. Now he’s the CEO’s obsession.” Sky Templeton thought dying broke was the worst fate. That was until he opened his eyes in the body of a doomed secretary inside a cheesy romance novel he once rage-dropped. The role? Cannon fodder, destined to be crushed under the heel of the cold and ruthless billionaire CEO, Dream Lancaster. But life gives Gloss no time to despair. A mischievous system binds to him with cruel missions: survive 100 days, raise the CEO’s affection score from -1000 to +1000, and…most terrifying of all, rewrite his tragic ending. Gloss only wanted to survive. He never expected to become entangled in office politics, fake dating contracts, or the dangerous pull of a man who despised him. Yet, with every mission cleared, Dream’s icy mask begins to crack, revealing scars and loneliness Gloss never thought a ruthless CEO could carry. Was this just the system’s game, or had fate rewritten both their stories?

I let Gideon mark me again. Then, I put my Alpha mate up for rent. The fragile widow of his dead Beta, Civian, always found excuses to drag him out of our bed. I stopped crying over the possessive pull of our Mate bond. Instead, I just charged her by the hour. 100,000 an hour during the day. 200,000 at night. Triple on full moons. In just three months, my offshore account grew by nearly twenty million. He had promised to take me to the werewolf auction to buy some rare herbs. But that woman called, crying that her wolf was out of control and desperately needed soothing. I didn't even blink. I just pulled out my phone and started the timer. Midnight. Burning up with fever from the pills I took to suppress my heat, he was driving me to the Pack hospital. That woman called again, shaking because she had a nightmare about Civian’s bloody death. I calmly signaled him to pull over and drop me at the next intersection. Seeing the flicker of struggle in his eyes, I just smiled lazily. "Just don't forget to pay." Then came the day of our daughter Mia’s checkup at The Pack's Gene-Therapy Center. The woman called again. "Toby's first shift is coming up. He really needs a strong Alpha to guide him through this dangerous time..." Gideon hung up the phone. He turned, guilt flashing in his eyes, and started to kneel before our daughter to explain. But Mia just held out her little hand, copying me exactly. "It's okay, Daddy. Just pay up. It's a full moon today, so that’s triple."

Even after being married for three years, my husband treats me like a stranger. When I throw up blood from pregnancy complications, he's in the prayer room chanting for his foster sister, Yvie Springton. He accuses me of being dramatic. If Yvie so much as gets a headache, he drops everything and flies overseas to be by her side. When his parents are in critical condition after a car crash, I beg him to go see them one last time. But what does he do? He claims I'm cursing Yvie. When I go into early labor and cling to life after giving birth to our son, he posts a photo of his international boarding pass on social media. At his parents' funeral, he returns to the country with Yvie and demands I leave the marriage with nothing. The day our divorce finalizes, he holds a wedding ceremony with her. I bury his parents alone. Then, at an exclusive auction, dead set on winning the famous painting for Yvie, he offered a staggering price. Even his accounts are frozen. That's when he finally realizes he's been disowned by the Springton family. His eyes are bloodshot, and he's furious as he demands answers. I simply gesture for my lawyer to step forward. He says, "Mr. Springton, take a look at this will."

Four days after my death, my four-year-old daughter finally sensed that something was terribly wrong. The fridge door slammed into her forehead when she tried to get a snack. Normally, I would've been there in a heartbeat—arms open, kisses ready, whispering, "You're okay, sweetheart, Mommy's here." But this time, I just lay on the bed, cold and still.​ She didn't understand. She thought the sweet treat would make me respond. So she held the final piece of chocolate up to my mouth. "Here, Mommy. Have some chocolate..." But I didn't even blink. She climbed into my arms, clutching my clothes tightly. "Mommy... Mommy, wake up..." She waited for me to stroke her hair, to tell her that everything was going to be fine. There was only silence.​ Completely lost and scared, she found my phone. "Daddy, why is Mommy still sleeping?" she asked, her voice filled with desperation.​ In response, Oliver sent a photo of himself having Christmas Eve dinner with his childhood sweetheart. His voice was icy cold when he replied, "She's just sleeping, not dead. It's Christmas Eve, and I'm busy. Tell her to stop playing games and come apologize when she's done sulking." Then he hung up.​ But when the truth finally hit Oliver—when the coroner's report came, when the police knocked on his door right in the middle of his laughter, when he realized I'd been lying dead for four days while he toasted—he broke.

When I was waiting for Theodore at City Hall from dawn to dusk, he was accompanying his first love on a hike. I called him dozens of times, but he rejected my calls instantly each time. He finally picked up on the twentieth call. "Why are you blowing up my phone when you simply didn't see me for a day? Why are you acting so desperate? Sammy's feeling unwell because of her heart and I still need to take care of her at the hospital. We'll talk later about registering our marriage." Ten years of love. This was the 100th time Theodore had left me alone in front of City Hall for his first love. I hung up and calmly tossed the wedding ring away. This marriage? I was done with it.

I burned my painting right in front of the students and university staff. Thunderous applause filled the hall. Everyone thought it was some kind of performance. But my senior in the graduate program panicked. He rushed forward and grabbed my wrist, his voice tight. “Connor, have you gone mad? This is your only shot to prove yourself!” I shook him off, cold. A chance? That was his chance, right? During my past life, he stole the painting I poured my heart and soul into and entered it in the competition ahead of me. The composition, the colors, even my original technique… He copied all of it. He won the Gold Award for the National Youth Art Competition, signed with a top gallery, and basked in glory. Meanwhile, I was branded a shameless plagiarist. The insults and curses overwhelmed me completely. "Get out of the art scene already!" “A plagiarist like you should just die!” His fans stormed my studio, smashed my tools, and broke my right hand. With my world in ruins, I jumped off the studio roof. Opening my eyes again, I realized I had returned to the day my senior accused me of plagiarism.