Silence Like Glass

Alan circled them slowly, his gaze lingering on her flushed skin and then Karl’s tense body. “You want me to keep quiet, right?” He asked. “Then you… have to be mine. Both of you. " He slapped Karl's dick and the traitor sprang back to life. Karl gulped but said nothing. Alan stalked to where Selina was, half of her body on the bed and the other half resting on air, her pussy available for anyone to view. "Just for me.” He cupped her right breast and molded the flesh. She swallowed, feeling a dangerous thrill course through her veins. “I… agree.” She whispered, almost breathless. “I’ll be yours.” ******** Selina’s marriage is flawless to the outside world—and empty behind closed doors. Two years as a wife have taught her loneliness, silence, and a husband who treats her more like an obligation than a woman with needs. Starved of affection and desperate to feel wanted, Selina finds herself drawn into a dangerous temptation within the walls of her own home. What starts as a single reckless mistake soon becomes a web of secrets she can’t escape. But everything shatters when the unthinkable happens—and Selina realizes she’s crossed a line that can never be erased. Now trapped between desire, guilt, and forbidden attraction, Selina must keep her secrets hidden while living under the same roof with the very people who could destroy her. Every glance feels loaded. Every moment is a risk. And every choice pulls her deeper into a scandal that could ruin them all. In a house built on silence and betrayal, Selina will learn that the most dangerous desires are the ones no one is supposed to see.

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*

On the one-year anniversary of the company's public listing, my wife, Susan Lynn, publicly announced that she was gifting a supercar worth millions of dollars to her childhood friend, Charles Baker. Charles, with his arm around her shoulder, raised his glass and said, "Thank you, Susan. Here's a toast to our friendship!" I let out a derisive laugh and walked away. Susan, feeling upset, chased after me, shouting, "Angus, what's your problem? What's wrong with me giving the top salesperson a supercar? You're just a useless waste of space, and you still dare to throw a tantrum!"

"Are you sure you want to change the bride's name to Jasmine Shaw, Quinn?" Quinn Sullivan's voice was resolute. "Yes, I'm sure. Do as I say." She sat in silence for a long time after hanging up. She recalled what she saw after her engagement party. Her fiancé had his arms wrapped around another woman in a swaying car. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, looking like he couldn't bear to leave. Quinn didn't understand. She and Nicholas York had gone through so much to get to marriage. How could he cheat on her? Well, it didn't matter. She was willing to give him her blessings since he was in love with another woman. He could marry someone else, then. She would give him the wedding of his dreams.

Max is a no-nonsense bounty hunter. She doesn’t have time for silly fairytale nonsense like what her last “skip” was spouting about vampires. Yet days later, when things start to add up, she can’t help but question if maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as crazy as she thought. Max’s questions, however, have placed her on the radar of a powerful vampire corporation that sends one of their best to seek her out and silence her if needed. What should have been an easy job for Jace and his werewolf friend Lukas is anything but. What happens when a vampire and werewolf fall for the same girl? Can their friendship withstand it, or will it cause a rift once romantic feelings and jealousy rear their heads? On the other hand, can Max survive having her eyes opened to the reality of the supernatural?

A deal sealed in desperation. A marriage bound by secrets. A heart caught between danger and desire. When Isla Monroe agrees to marry a man whose name strikes fear and fascination in equal measure, she steps into a world where power rules, silence conceals, and love is the most dangerous game of all. He’s cold, unreadable, and devastatingly magnetic. She’s fragile, desperate, and holding onto her last thread of hope. What begins as a contract quickly unravels into something far more complicated…. where tension simmers, pasts collide, and every touch feels like a trap. But in a house full of shadows, the greatest mystery isn’t him… It’s why he chose her. And when secrets start to surface, Isla must ask herself the question no one dares to answer. What’s the real price of wearing his ring?

A sharp pull by my wrist bought me back to the wall. I hold my breath for a moment. "what the hell" I cussed. "Shh, baby girl" he exclaimed. I cringed with the endearment he used. He brought his face near to my face. His breath is fanning all over my lips. It raised my heartbeat to a different level. It must be heard by him also. His smirk face saying it all. His eyes are gazing my lips and he started closing the small gap we have between our lips to be mingled into one. Sensing his intentions I closed my eyes & moved my face to the left. He stopped right away & increase the gap between us which I really appreciate but the hold of his hand on my wrist is very tight. It started paining me slowly. "Now listen to me very carefully, we might be lawfully wedded husband & wife. But you are nothing to me. I have only married you because of my doll" he said rudely to me. I forcefully release my hand from his hulk like grip which resulted into breaking my bangles & a piece of glass cut into my hand. It hurt me like hell. There must be a big cut in my hand. Ignoring the pain in my hand. I showed my other hand finger towards him and said "even I was not interested in this marriage. I am kind of forced into this" Which I am not, my subconscious mocked me. But I won’t give him that satisfaction. Although I was not forced but I had no other option than to accept this marriage. _______________________ This is the story of Payal Mehra and Kabir Khurana who are bound by vows in the sacred bond of marriage which was not in their to do list. But yet they are.

I wasn’t meant to survive. My sister killed me, and I should have stayed dead. Instead, I woke in Lenore, a nightmare kingdom built on blood and lies. Here, monsters wear human faces, and Hunters like me are forced into a system that counts every kill and punishes every weakness. They gave me a body that isn’t mine. A name that isn’t mine. A life I never chose. And now I can’t run. I can’t escape. I can only fight… and hunger. Because it isn’t just the monsters that consume me. It’s the men who circle too close. One forged from shadows, dangerous in his silence, the kind of man whose restraint makes me want to shatter it. The other drips temptation like poison, every word a sin, every touch a fire I shouldn’t survive, and yet I reach for him anyway. I shouldn’t need them. I shouldn’t crave them. But I do. God, I do. And while I’m torn between danger and desire, Lenore itself is tearing apart. The Houses want me erased. The monsters want my blood. And the truth of who I really am will destroy everything.

When I joined my pregnant wife at her class reunion, I heard the thoughts of her male bestie. 'Once she kicks her bum husband to the curb, the money's all mine!' He was snuggling up to my wife, raising his glass in salutations with a perfect smile, but I still caught the flicker of disgust in his eyes. 'Stupid sow thinks I'm in love with her? Who would care about her if it weren't for her money?' He had no idea that Mary's family had gone bankrupt long ago, and her life of luxury now was all thanks to me!

Luke moved then. Fast. Too fast. One second he was across the room, the next he was in front of her, towering over her like a wall of heat and fury. His hands came up, gripping her arms not gently, not cruelly, but with a force that said he was one second from shattering. “You think I don’t fight for you every damn day?” His voice was low, dangerous, vibrating with something raw. “You think I don’t take bullets for you behind the scenes? Every single move I make is to keep you breathing, Abigail. So don’t you dare stand there and act like I’m doing nothing.” Her breath hitched, but the anger didn’t stop burning. “Then say it to her. Say it to their faces instead of hiding behind silence like a coward!” Something snapped in his eyes then something sharp and blazing. And before Abigail could blink, his mouth was on hers. The kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was a collision hard, punishing, desperate. All the rage, the fear, the need that had been coiling between them exploded like fire. Abigail gasped against him, her hands going up to his chest, meaning to push him away except she didn’t. Just couldn’t. Because the second his tongue slid against hers, the second his body pressed flush against hers, every bone in her body melted. Luke growled low in his throat, a sound that made heat curl deep in her belly. He spun her, slamming her gently but firmly against the wall, his hands framing her face as he devoured her mouth like he’d been starving for years.