Skull Dog Oc

My Alpha mate Kieran ordered our eight-year-old son to burn my mother alive because his Omega assistant accused me of killing her pet dog out of spite. Kieran's eyes were filled with impatience and disgust. "You're supposed to be our pack's respected Luna. Why would you target an innocent Omega? Whatever harm her pet suffered, your mother will endure the same. Your mother is paying the price for your jealousy!" I fell to my knees, begging Kieran to spare my mother. But he commanded our seven-year-old son Owen to light the fire himself. My son didn't hesitate for a second as he threw the torch into the pile of wood. "That's what you get for always going against Aunt Sera!" I screamed and cried, desperately begging them to help me put out the flames. "Please, I'm begging you, take my mother to the healing center..." "Enough, Aria. Your mother is still lying in the hospital bed. That's just a training dummy. Stop putting on this pathetic act." After saying that, father and son walked away without looking back. They didn't know that it really was my mother burning in those flames. But when I finally gave up on them and left, why did they both come crawling back, begging me to return?

The year the Rossi famiglia falls, my personal Underboss, Lorenzo Santoro, rises to power—becoming the Don and seizing control of the underworld. Once, I was the untouchable Principessa. He was the Soldato, ready to die for me at a moment's notice. For something as trivial as a paper cut on my finger, he would drop to his knees with red-rimmed eyes, blowing on it for half an hour. Now, to earn a smile from his new flame, Elena Marino, he forces me to sign a contract and makes me his live target. He watches with indifference as I am battered and bloodied under a hail of bullets. During a blast-resistance test, shattered glass slices the corner of my eye, but Lorenzo merely looks on. "The once-delicate Principessa Rossi can't even handle a little pain?" During attack-dog training, I am bitten to the bone, yet he shields a trembling Elena instead. "Animals don't know any better. Why are you holding a grudge against a dog?" Then comes the real kidnapping. To save Elena, who is desperate to become Donna, he personally cuts off my escape. "This is just a drill, Isabella," he scoffs. "Stop acting like it's real." On the surveillance monitors, flames engulf me as I take my final breath. A bloodstained termination contract is delivered to him. "Don Santoro, I return the life I owe you." Only then does the man who believes he rules the world finally lose his mind.

The year I was at rock bottom, I took on three "conquest" missions. Number One was a tech prodigy. Number Two was a genius doctor. Number Three was a top dog in the legal world. Judging by how busy they all were, I thought that with some careful time management, handling all three would be a piece of cake. However, I forgot one thing. Three CEOs meant dealing with three difficult girlfriends. That morning, Number One CEO Eric's childhood sweetheart accused me of stealing her charm bracelet. Eric beat me, yelled at me, and made me stand all day. That afternoon, Number Two's Ron's girlfriend tore into me, figuratively ripping my kidney out. Ron warned me that he had only let me get close so I could serve as a stand-in for her. By evening, Number Three's Lance had his girlfriend taking secret photos of me and spreading rumors, and he told me to be gracious, saying she was "just joking." I could not take this nonstop 24-hour torture anymore, so I told the system, I quit. I want to go home. The system replied, "Quitting is simple. Just die in this world." I listened. However, after I executed my death escape, why did all three CEOs completely lose their composure?

I had just returned from studying design abroad when my grandfather insisted that he had already arranged a childhood betrothal for me. The moment I got back to the country, he dragged me straight to the Hunt family's residence to discuss the engagement. The adults talked endlessly, and I quickly grew bored sitting there. Slipping away quietly, I wandered into the Hunt family garden for a walk. Out of nowhere, a woman rushed toward me and slapped me hard across the face. "Where did this shameless woman come from? How dare you steal my things!" I covered my cheek and stared at her in shock. The woman lifted her chin arrogantly, her tone dripping with condescension, as if she were granting me charity. "That ruby on your hand was a birthday gift from the young master of the Hunt family. A poor girl like you—how could you possibly afford to wear it?!" I opened my mouth, about to explain that it was mine. But before I could say a word, she struck me across the face again. "Do you even know who I am? I'm the Hunt family's future daughter-in-law—the future Mrs. Hunt! The entire Hunt family will listen to me!" I pulled out my phone and, right in front of her, sent a message to the contact labeled Fiancé. "Lucas, there's a mad dog in your house. Are you going to do something about it or not?"

After I register my marriage with Gabriella Archer behind everyone's backs, whenever she unlocks a new bedroom position with her childhood sweetheart, Nathaniel Taylor, she tells me that she'll throw a wedding to make it up to me. In three years, Gabriella has brought the wedding up 33 times. Of course, she has broken her promise 33 times as well. The first time she did, it was because Nathaniel's dog had died. In order to pay respects to it, Gabriella told me that she couldn't host any auspicious events for three months. I was still clad in a tux as I kept apologizing and making amends to all of our family, friends, and relatives beneath the stage. The second time Gabriella flaked out on me, it was thanks to Nathaniel's stomachache. She had the wedding car turned around so that she could buy medicine for Nathaniel and take care of him. In every wedding after that, Nathaniel would get into all sorts of troubles and ailments. I fought with Gabriella, and I lost my temper multiple times. But Gabriella often hit me with, "Nate and I are just friends with benefits. You're my actual husband here, so don't be petty." After Gabriella breaks her promise for the 33rd time, I'm finally done with her. So, I slide a divorce agreement in her direction. "The cooling-off period is over, so let's just finalize the divorce."

Autumn Dawson had only ever loved one man, Ivan Ashton, her husband. For twelve years, she devoted her life to him, only to have her heart shattered when he married her sister on their 11th anniversary. Shortly after, she met a mysterious death and was reincarnated three years before her demise. This time, she vowed things would be different. On their ninth anniversary, when Ivan brazenly introduced his mistress for the first time, Autumn refused to remain silent. No longer the mute dog wagging her tail at her husband's call, she stood up, her eyes blazing with fury. "I want a divorce," she declared, her voice resonating with newfound strength. The room fell silent, the shock evident on both Ivan's and her sister's faces. For the first time, Autumn wasn't backing down. She had had enough, and she was determined to seek revenge on every single person who had wronged her in her past life. But as she prepared to walk away, Ivan grabbed her arm, his eyes filled with desperation. "I want a second chance," he pleaded. Autumn's eyes narrowed, her resolve hardening. "Over my dead body," she spat, yanking her arm free. This time, Autumn Dawson wasn't just fighting for herself. She was ready to take down anyone who dared to stand in her way.

The moment I was born, my mother implanted a chip in my brain and began shaping me into her idea of a perfect daughter. She blocked my sense of hunger so I would only have simple meals daily to maintain the "ideal" figure. She erased my ability to feel pain so she could inject me with endless chemicals to keep my skin smooth and flawless. She tampered with my senses, deleting every trace of negative emotion from my mind, all so I could remain eternally innocent. I couldn't tell right from wrong. I didn't know sadness or anger. I only knew how to smile. When the neighbor's dog died, I smiled and was scolded harshly for being heartless. When my classmates bullied me, I smiled and became the class freak. When my grandfather passed away, I smiled again, and my relatives cursed me for being soulless. Eventually, my father couldn't take it anymore. He left us. Mom, however, didn't seem to care. "They don't understand," she told me. "Everything I've done is for your own good. One day, you'll thank me." … On my 18th birthday, she planned a grand live broadcast, ready to show the world her perfect creation. She never knew that the day before her grand broadcast, I had already lost myself completely. By then, I was no longer human. I had become a machine.

Married for five years, Lorenzo, the underboss of the Moretti family, had never been without a woman. He found my “noble lady” posture stiff and vanilla. Dancers from Trinacria, headliners from the city’s nightclubs, his rotating stream of mistresses could fill the entire estate. Yet whenever I was displeased, whether it was throwing drinks or kicking someone out, Lorenzo never intervened. He’d only lit his cigar with casual amusement and said, “Relax. It’s just fun. No one can touch your position.” Then a clumsy, naive maid appeared. Unlike the others, she wasn’t flashy. However, when Lorenzo returned, bloodied, she’d hand him a cup of warm tea, her eyes red-rimmed. She watched him with pure admiration while he handled the family business. Lorenzo said the estate felt cold and lifeless except for her. He said only when she panicked did he feel like a hero being needed, rather than just a husband in a political marriage. Until she accidentally broke an antique vase left by my mother… Before I could react, Lorenzo stepped in and shielded her trembling form, glaring at me as if I were the enemy. “What’s wrong with you? If you’re crazy, go see a shrink. Don’t scare her like a rabid dog!” Watching his careful, protective expression, I smiled. I guess it was time for the Moretti family underboss to be replaced.

When I'm seven years old, my dad turns me in to the Court Judgment of the Born Wicked because of my tendency to vomit. If I'm found guilty, my blood ties with my dad will be forcibly severed. Then, I'll be sent to prison. Everyone claims that Dad is just making a fuss over nothing. "Your daughter is still so young, so it's natural for her to fall ill. As a father, you should be more considerate toward her." But when the evidence is shown, everyone clamps up immediately. There was once when Dad drank so much to the point he suffered from gastric bleeding. The business contract that he managed to convince his client to sign was all soiled because I vomited on him as soon as he got home. Thanks to me, the contract was voided. Dad got fired on the spot. During Bryce Fuller, my older brother's birthday, I vomited onto his birthday cake in front of his classmates. Because of that, Bryce was isolated by all of his classmates. He became so depressed that he tried to slit his wrist in an attempt to take his own life. I'll keep vomiting everywhere, be it at the dining table or on my bed. Dad and Bryce have to clean me up more than 30 times every day. They suffer greatly because of me. What angers everyone the most is that after I'm done vomiting, I'll laugh at everyone in a provocative manner. The judge gives his verdict instantly, claiming that I'm wicked by nature. Bryce's eyes redden immediately. As he cries, he tells me that he can't bear to see me leaving him. I never shed any tears, nor do I throw a tantrum. Instead, I accept the judge's verdict calmly, but with a prerequisite condition that the judge finishes watching my memories. The judge is shocked, to say the least. "We'll have to crack your skull open in order to extract your memories. You'll be in a world of pain. Are you sure about that?" I nod in determination. But Bryce, on the other hand, looks alarmed. "I won't agree to that!"

Georgia Brooks, the notorious, troublesome tomboy is the caretaker of Clark Brown, the mysterious, cold man who is an undercover billionaire. Georgia's motive is to uncover him and just make him happy. But what when secrets are revealed and the badass tomboy is close to tears? Join them on this rocky road of adventures which includes their occasional fights and revenge, stolen kisses, trip to a circus, journey to England, landing in jail and much more! Excerpt from a chapter : His lips curled in disdain and just when he was about to unwrap the towel, I quickly turned around showing my back to him. What the fucking hell? What if I saw his thing? "Don't you care? Like honestly, couldn't you just order like your usual self to get the hell out of your bedroom or just . . . turn around for you to change? You could have at least warned me that you were freeing your willy, I would have closed my eyes!" I rambled and felt myself feeling all jittery again. He didn't reply and I could mentally picture him scoffing or rolling his pretty eyes. A part of me which never saw a grown man's buddy down there was curious as to how it looked. Was it really long and monstrous like a huge sausage they describe in erotic scenes? Was it soft like a banana or hard like a radish? Was is it like spring that when you poke it, it would go wagging like a dog's tail? A teeny little peek would do no harm . . .