Slightest Noise Wakes Me Up

My father loved silence. He believed noise was the mark of lesser people, so he installed a decibel meter in our home. Speaking above 40 decibels meant that we would have to pay him 10 dollars, laughing above 60 decibels meant 50 dollars, and crying or throwing a tantrum was a serious offense at 100 dollars per second. The year I turned four, I fell and broke my arm. I did not make a single sound. I bit down so hard that I cracked two teeth, but I saved thousands in noise fees. He praised me for it and called me a "high-value child," one that was worth the investment. I treasured that compliment and observed the rules carefully, keeping the house wrapped in suffocating silence. Then came the stormy night a thief broke in. He had a knife and was creeping toward my mother as she slept, and I watched it all from the gap in the wardrobe where I was hiding. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shriek and wake my father, to do something, anything. However, my eyes drifted to the decibel meter on the wall, and my hand found nothing but an empty pocket. I did not have enough allowance. One scream would cost hundreds, and I simply could not afford it.

"Is this what you wanted? On your knees, getting fucked by the man you should be calling 'Daddy'?" In the mirror, I'm on all fours. He flips my skirt up, one hand crushing my throat, the other slapping my ass raw as his massive cock slams into me without warning. I'm trembling so hard I can barely hold myself up. But he won't let me fall. "Ass up." He bends me over, his hand a firm pressure on my back. Lorenzo Vitale. The most feared mafia godfather in New York. He never gives an order twice. ** On my birthday, my boyfriend betrayed me for power—fucking Lorenzo's adopted daughter behind my back. They drugged me, sent me into a BDSM club to become Lorenzo's plaything, tried to destroy my reputation. What they didn't know? Twelve years ago, Lorenzo adopted the wrong girl. I'm the real mafia princess. Now he's begging for me back. But I've already fallen for the man I should be calling Daddy. I fantasized about being fucked by him—a forbidden desire I had no right to feel.

My husband, Jacob Morris, wrongly believed that I had pushed the woman he loved down the stairs. So, he locked me in the basement to make me reflect on my actions. He hired people to punish me, trying to break my spirit. I suffered inhumane torture. My tendons were cut, and my face was disfigured. Four years later, he finally remembered me and let me out. But by then, I was too broken to love him anymore.

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.

They say that the deepest cuts come from the ones you hold closest to your heart. But I never expected my husband to be the one holding the knife while another woman twisted it in deeper.... My name is Ariana Carter. I am deeply in love with my husband Misha, and we have the perfect marriage. Scratch that, HAD the perfect marriage, or so I thought until he changed. His lies and betrayal broke me. Until I woke up. Now it's time for me to retake everything I lost--my life, my career, my family, and my dignity. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

My bride went missing on the night of our big day but woke up in my brother's room the next day. My parents persuaded me to ignore it for the sake of fame but scolded my wife as an easy girl. Angrily, I moved out of the villa with my wife. Soon after, my wife had a miscarriage and suffered from depression due to gossip. She jumped off from the top floor in front of me. Desperately, I followed her. Opening my eyes again, I found myself back to the time when the wedding ended.

Patrick and Clare wake up trapped in a basement, a thin wall separating their cells. Their captor is mysteriously absent, which at first seems like a blessing. As more time passes with no food or water, they begin to realize a clock is ticking for their survival.They know their captor is still out there, and it is only a matter of time before he returns.©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

After I'm abducted, I call my mother, a policewoman, for help. However, she hangs up on me and stays by my adoptive sister's side. "Go to hell if you're so keen on it!" she snaps. I calmly watch as the abductors pluck my nails and torment me until none of my skin is left unharmed. In my past life, my mother actually came to my rescue. She left my adoptive sister by the roadside, and the latter ended up being violated and murdered. From then on, I became a criminal in my mother's eyes. She received an anonymous text on my adoptive sister's death anniversary. "I bet a good girl like you wouldn't want your mother to know you hired us to abduct you, right?" She thought I orchestrated the abduction because I wanted to vie for her attention. She thought that was the cause of my adoptive sister's death. "I've saved people all my life. I never would've expected my flesh and blood to be such a shameless monster! You should go to hell as atonement for killing Charlene!" She sewed my mouth shut, shattered every bone in my body, and threw my ashes into a junkyard. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back to the day my mother makes her choice.

My boyfriend, Landon Schmidt, has sold his assets just to support me in building my livestreaming career. But when I become a famous streamer, I steal all of his money and dump him right away. Landon slumps near a river and drinks from it while begging for money in the 104 degree weather. He's exposed to the heat for so long that he almost goes into shock. Meanwhile, all I have to do is push the boundaries on camera, and I'll earn millions of dollars' worth of tips. My best friend, Yvette Carter, thinks that it's unfair for Landon to suffer like this. She advises me not to bite the hand that had fed me in the past, only for me to slap her in return. "If you pity him this much, you should pay for all of his expenses, then! Why should I pay for a broke and useless man in the first place?" That night, Yvette exposes the recording of our conversation and takes me to court. Tens of thousands of Internet users flood into my stream instantly just so they can ensure that I get judged for my sins.

Fashion meets Romance in this compelling drama! Meet Amelia Kurt, a young girl who dreams of being a well known fashion designer. Then there's Ryan Oswald, the billionaire CEO who is going to make it all happen. The two meet under unfavorable circumstances and start on a bad foot. Can they ride it out and achieve their happy ending or are they not meant to be?