Slcls Genre Study

"Chloe Hades Mondragon, do you take Mr. Hanz Levi as your beloved husband for the rest of your life till death do you part?" Halos mahilo ako sa sobrang kaba ng sandaling sambitin ng pari ang mga katagang Yun, hindi ako makasagot na Tila ba nalunok ko na ang aking dila. "Ms. CHLOE I will repeat... Do you take Mr. Hanz Le-" Para akong nagising sa isang panaginip ng biglang may pwersang humapit sa bewang ko, at bumulong sa tenga ko. " What are you doing! Do you want to D*e!!" He whisper cold in my ears making me feel the shivers all over my body, my hands which is holding the ring shakes as i look at the man's dark eyes, glaring at me.. Because of fear I was force to marry him.. "I--I do" I lost, I can't run away from him now..if I know his real identity before then I shouldn't agree with this Arrange marriage... Now I'm OFFICIALLY married to him, I'm afraid that I can't live my life like I used to.. My family are in danger, my life is not the same.. Why did all of this happen to me? What did I do wrong to deserve all of this.. I'm a good person, I didn't hurt anybody.. Why me? I want to live a normal life, I want to study and travel all around the world, I want to have a job, I have a lot of dreams for me and my family.. But why all of that change? All my dreams crumbled that easy.... I guess I need to deal with this, I need to be strong.. Please hold on Chloe.. You can survive with this.

Isabelle Ashford's aristocratic family is drowning in debt and scandal when Dante Marchetti offers a devil's bargain: marriage in exchange for erasing their financial ruin. She accepts, believing she's sacrificing herself for her younger sister's future. But from the moment she steps into Dante's fortress-like mansion, she realizes this isn't a marriage of convenience; it's a beautifully constructed prison. Dante is cold, controlling, and seems to delight in psychological games that leave her questioning her own sanity. He monitors her every move, isolates her from the outside world, and treats her like a possession he's studying under glass. As weeks pass, Isabelle begins noticing inconsistencies. Dante's cruelty sometimes feels like protection. His surveillance system captures threats she didn't know existed. His empire, built on blackmail and coercion, seems designed to destroy specific people connected to her family's past. When she discovers hidden files in his study, she learns a horrifying truth: her father wasn't just a failed businessman; he was part of a criminal syndicate that trafficked information and ruined lives. Dante's parents were among their victims. Her marriage isn't random, it's revenge twenty years in the making. But as Isabelle digs deeper, she uncovers something even more sinister: the syndicate her father once belonged to has been hunting Dante for years, and now they've marked her as their way to destroy him. Caught between a husband who married her to break her and enemies who want her dead, Isabelle must decide whether to escape the monster she married or join him in a war that could consume them both.

Lassée de son mari violent, Cara Hellington, 23 ans, s'enfuit de chez elle et se retrouve dans un bar notoire, démunie, triste, mais soulagée et libre. Lorsqu'elle se retrouve impliquée dans une altercation verbale avec le barman arrogant au sujet de la propriété de ses cartes de crédit, un sauveur improbable vient à son secours. Eros Kazan Alfred. Il est grand, massif, ondulant de muscles et couvert de tatouages ​​sombres. Tout ce à quoi Cara n'est pas habituée. Tout ce qui attire Cara. Lorsqu'il lui offre un dîner et qu'elle lui raconte son calvaire, Eros lui propose de l'épouser, et il s'assurera que son ex violent ne la revoit plus jamais ni ne s'approche d'elle. Mais Cara hésite. Eros est un étranger. Et à en juger par son apparence, il a l'air d'être un problème. Le genre boueux. Elle devrait courir dans la direction opposée, loin de lui. Mais elle court droit sur son lit. Après une nuit torride ensemble, Cara se sent à l'aise et confiante qu'il prendra bien soin d'elle. Mais les tensions montent tout autour d'eux, car des personnages importants de leur passé ne reculeront devant rien pour les faire tomber tous les deux. Vont-ils succomber aux circonstances terriblement tordues que le destin semble leur réserver ?

My mother-in-law could not understand me. Before my business trip, I repeatedly told her not to touch anything in my study, but she mixed up the contract I needed. As a result, I lost a million-dollar order and was fired from my company. To make up for her mistake, she promised she would take care of my child and help me find another job. I froze my milk, labeled everything with notes, and gave her detailed instructions on timing and measurements. However, when my baby ended up in the hospital, I found out that she had thrown out all the milk and fed my baby expired formula instead. Even worse, she fed my baby peanuts behind my back, causing my baby to suffocate and die. Afterward, she wailed, "That was my granddaughter! How could I not care? If I could, I'd die with her..." My husband slapped me, shouting, "My mom worked so hard to take care of the child, and you want to drive her to her death? She's an old woman. It's not easy for her!" My sister-in-law came over too, calling me ungrateful and blaming me for treating an elderly woman badly. She claimed I deserved to be childless and alone. However, they did not know how many times I had stopped my mother-in-law from causing trouble and harm to them. I was driven to depression by them and eventually sent to a mental institution, where I was tortured to death. If I had the chance to do it again, I would protect my child and myself and stop preventing my mother-in-law from causing chaos for others. I would watch her bring equal destruction to each one of them!

I cleared my throat and picked up the menu, pretending to study it. “So,” I said after a moment, “before we start pretending this is something serious, you should know… I’m not exactly the settling-down type.” He arched his brow but said nothing. “I do hookups,” I continued, keeping my tone casual. “That night at the hotel? I was supposed to meet someone else. I went into the wrong room. You were literally a mistake.” He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. Just smirked faintly and reached for his glass of whisky, taking a slow sip. My fake confidence wavered. “Did you hear what I said?” “Every word,” he said quietly. “And?” “And I’m still here.” I stared at him with disbelief. “Wow. You’re not even mad? You’re supposed to call off the wedding and storm out or something.” He chuckled in a low tone, resting his elbow on the table. “You’re really trying hard to get rid of me, aren’t you?” ******* I caught my fiancé cheating with the woman he called his “sister.” Broken, drunk, and reckless, I stumbled into the wrong hotel room, and into the arms of a stranger. By morning, he was gone, leaving only a note: Wrong room, but you taste good. I wanted to forget him. Weeks later, my best friend begged me to meet the man her father had arranged for her to marry and make him call off the wedding. I went there in her place, only to discover he was the same man from that night. He called off the wedding with her. Then he asked me to marry him, but I refused. But refusing a billionaire with an obsession is never that simple… especially when he shows up as my new boss.

Every Christmas Eve, the heir of the Marco mafia family—Adrian Marco, must follow the family tradition: Draw a name to decide whether he’s allowed to marry me. Because I, Irene Cast, am not mafia-born. Unless he draws the slip with my name on it, he can’t take me as his wife. For four years, Adrian has drawn four times. And not once did he draw my name. I always thought he fought with his family because of me— that he was willing to risk losing his position as the Don, just to choose me. Every time he failed, he held me so tightly and whispered, “It’s okay. There’s always next year.” And I loved him so much it hurt. Hurt enough that I was willing to wait, year after year. This year, I told myself: If he still doesn’t draw my name… I’ll secretly switch the result. I sneaked to the door of Adrian’s study, and heard his younger brother ask: “Don… every year you do draw Irene's name. Why do you pretend you didn’t? Is it because you still can’t let Sera go?” But he simply said, in a flat voice, “Sera needs me for something urgent. Do what you always do: swap Irene’s name for a blank one.” He walked out without looking back. Instead of swapping, he tossed the blank slip into the trash, left the one with my name on the table, and hurried after Adrian. I went inside, picked up the blank slip from the trash, and replaced the one with my name. Watching my own name fall into the garbage. Adrian…I don’t want to wait and marry you anymore. I’ll grant you your choice.

Serene’s heart raced as she stood in Nicholas’s dimly lit study, the scent of leather and whiskey heavy in the air. She’d been dusting the bookshelves when he entered, his presence filling the room like a storm. Now, he stood inches away, his black suit hugging his broad shoulders, his dark mullet framing a gaze that burned with intent. “You missed a spot,” he murmured, his voice a low growl, pointing to a shelf she’d already cleaned. Her cheeks flushed as she turned, the hem of her maid uniform riding up her thighs. “I-I’ll get it, Mr. Volkov,” she stammered, reaching up, but his hand caught her wrist, firm yet gentle. “No,” he said, stepping closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Let me show you.” His fingers slid down her arm, leaving a trail of heat, before guiding her hand to the shelf. His chest pressed against her back, and she gasped at the hardness of his body, the evidence of his arousal unmistakable. “You’re trembling, little maid,” he whispered, his lips brushing her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “Do I scare you… or do I excite you?” Her breath hitched as his free hand trailed up her thigh, slipping beneath the lace of her uniform. “Mr. Volkov…” she whimpered, but her protest melted into a moan as his fingers found her, teasing her through the thin fabric of her panties. “ Nicholas,” he corrected, his voice rough with desire, his touch growing bolder, circling her most sensitive spot until her knees buckled. “Say it,” he demanded, nipping her earlobe. “N-Nicholas,” she gasped, her body arching into him, surrendering to the fire he’d ignited. In that moment, the billionaire and his naive maid were bound by a hunger neither could deny.

How long does it take to give up on a man you've loved for ten years? It takes me 3 seconds. The first second, I signed my name on the contract to become the chief designer of a renowned studio in Paris. The second second, I lock away ten years of my youth in my heart. The third second, I completely prepare to leave Levi's world. My fiancé Levi is the heir of the Smith Group, the absolute aristocracy. For others, he is untouchable. But for me, he's the childhood sweetheart who, with a crooked paper ring he made himself for the first time in his hand, told me, "You're the only girl I'll ever marry, even if I have to wait a hundred years." From that moment on, the only person I wanted to marry was Levi, and I never doubted that I would eventually marry Levi. But on the day of our engagement, he disappeared. I waited for a whole year, waiting for a message, a phone call, or a knock on the door, but nothing came. Later, he finally appeared. He stood next to a red Ferrari, holding flowers, and said that he still loved me, that he wasn't ready before, and begged me to give him another chance. I almost believed him. But at the same time, I received a provocative message from Levi's first love, Ruby: [Aren't you curious where he went during the time he eloped from your engagement? I'm already pregnant with Levi's child, and he loves kissing my pregnant belly the most.] I wiped away my tears, turned around, and applied to study in the Sorbonne University Faculty of Medicine, leaving only one sentence: "Levi, we're breaking up." Learning that I was leaving, Levi went crazy. He braved the heavy rain and blocked the entrance to my new place, his eyes red, asking me: "Stella, if I make Ruby abort the child, can you come back to me?"

Camilla walks into my study, and the air shifts. She's a distraction I can't afford, but fuck if I can resist her. Her fingers trace the edge of my desk, her eyes locked onto mine. "What are you doing, Camilla?" I growl, my control already fraying. She's a walking temptation, and she knows it. She smirks, her voice a sultry whisper, already undoing me. "Pushing your buttons, Zeke. Seeing how far I can go before you snap." My control falters. I spin her around, pressing her against the desk. My hands roam over her body, and I can feel her submitting. "You want this?" I ask, my voice a low growl. "You want to see the beast you're unleashing?" *** Camilla Dawson never expected to see the sinfully hot stranger she once hooked up with in a public washroom ever again. But fate—or rather, a father she never knew existed—has other plans. Now, she's bound and delivered as payment for a debt, straight into the hands of none other than Zeke Russell—the ruthless kingpin who always gets what he wants. Zeke built his empire on power and control, and he never takes no for an answer. Business or pleasure, the rules are his. It’s been years, but he’s never forgotten the woman who left him wanting more. Now, with Camilla thrust into his world as a replacement for his promised bride, everything spirals into chaos. She was never supposed to matter. Yet somehow, she’s slipping past his defenses, unearthing secrets he’s buried deep—and igniting a dangerous obsession. And when enemies close in, there’s nothing he won’t do to keep her. After all, what’s one more crime in the name of love?

Lyrique avait passé toute sa vie à être détestée. Moquée pour son visage marqué de cicatrices, méprisée par tous - y compris son propre compagnon - on ne cessait de lui répéter qu'elle était laide. Son compagnon ne l'avait gardée que pour obtenir davantage de territoire, et dès qu'il avait obtenu ce qu'il voulait, il l'avait rejetée, la laissant brisée et terriblement seule. Puis, elle l'avait rencontré, lui. Le premier homme à la trouver belle. Le premier à lui faire découvrir ce que signifiait être aimée. Ce n'avait été qu'une seule nuit, mais elle avait tout changé. Pour Lyrique, il était un saint, un sauveur. Pour lui, elle était la seule femme capable de lui faire atteindre l'orgasme - un problème qu'il avait combattu pendant des années. Lyrique avait cru que sa vie allait enfin prendre un autre sens… mais comme tous les autres avant lui, il lui avait menti. Et lorsqu'elle avait découvert qui il était réellement, elle avait compris qu'il n'était pas seulement dangereux - il était du genre d'homme auquel on n'échappe pas. Lyrique a voulu fuir. Elle désirait la liberté. Mais elle voulait aussi reprendre ce qu'on lui avait volé : son respect, sa dignité, sa place. Elle voulait se relever de ses cendres. Jusqu'à ce qu'elle soit finalement forcée d'entrer dans un monde sombre, un monde dans lequel elle n'avait jamais souhaité mettre les pieds.