Te La Creiste We Novels & Stories

"Spread your legs for me, Celeste." His voice was dark silk and hot sin pressed against my ear. --- My husband was fucking my best friend behind my back for six months. Six months of roses. Six months of 'you are my everything' while he was making her moan his name. I trusted him with my whole heart. He handed it to her like a cheap gift. So when Dominic Ford showed up with rage in his eyes and proof in his hands, something in me snapped. And in that broken, dangerous place, a sinful idea was born. "An affair," I told him, meeting his gaze. "Real. Raw. Dirty. No strings. No limits. We give them exactly what they deserve." He studied me for a long, slow moment. Then he pulled me close, his lips brushing my neck as he whispered. "When do we start?" Dominic Ford touched me like he was trying to ruin me for every other man. He succeeded. He took me apart, piece by piece, night after night, until I was shaking and screaming and begging for more... and when morning came I was crawling back for everything he gave me the night before. This was supposed to hurt them. It was never supposed to feel this good. It was never supposed to feel like home. Now our cheating spouses are on their knees, right where we wanted them. But Dominic is looking at me like the plan just changed. And God help me, I don't want to walk away either. We agreed. No strings. No feelings. Just revenge. That was the deal. We lied. --- WARNING: This story contains explicit sexual content, graphic scenes, and two broken people who find each other in the most sinful way possible.

A guy trying to find his place in the rough streets. will he make it? we're about to find out.

“I don't want to go back there…” I shuffled back on my feet, my leg catching against a root making me stumble and fall while the three men loomed over me, something akin to interest in their eyes. “Be calm. We do not seek to harm you. Let us help you. You are a member of Silver hollow pack, right? We'll get you back in and in return…” One of them paused, crouching down to my level, a smirk on his handsome face. “You can help us princess”

Eight years after I married that award-winning actor, he publicly declared he was dating the top starlet, Celine James. He even posted a picture of the two of them celebrating their adopted “baby’s” birthday. I did not call him to interrogate him as usual. Instead, he hurriedly explained, “It’s just a pet we adopted. As its ‘dad’, I have to be there for its birthday.” I said calmly, “Rather than adopting a furbaby, why don’t we get a divorce? Then you can have an actual baby with her.”

At my wedding, a video of my fiancé cheating was exposed. I didn't make a scene; just turned around and walked away, left him to clean up the mess himself. I went back to my room and kissed my younger boyfriend. We were halfway through when we got interrupted. My fiancé stormed in, face red with shame and rage. "Is this really the time? All you can think about is kissing?" I smacked my lips, still savoring the moment. "Weren't you the one who introduced us?"

Two years after we marry, my husband moves his sister and her family into our marital home. The four of them settle down and refuse to leave. So, I quit both my jobs. I laze around at home all day and splurge on various things. I have so many parcels delivered that they pile up by the door. Occasionally, I ask my husband and his sister for allowance. When the management office sends someone to chase for our maintenance fee, my husband breaks down so loudly that everyone in the building can hear him. He asks me whether I've lost my mind—who will support the family if I don't work? How will we survive without money? Am I going to allow our family to starve? So, it turns out he does know that we'll starve without anyone generating income. Why does he and his sister stay at home and plot to take away all my money, then?

He leaned in closer, his breath warm on my cheek. "I know a place where we can really forget about everything else," he murmured. I felt a thrill of anticipation run through me. It was reckless, and I knew I shouldn't, but something about this man made me want to throw caution to the wind. We left the bar together, walking through the quiet alleys until we came to a luxurious hotel. He led me inside, and we made our way to a suite with a breathtaking view of the city. The guy kissed me hungrily, and all my doubts faded away. For that night, I was able to forget about my heartbreak and just be in the moment. As we lay together, sated and content, he whispered to me, "I may be disguised, but I promise you, I'm not who you think I am." I looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?" He smiled enigmatically. "Let's just say that I'm not your average guy." And with that, he gathered his things and left, leaving me alone once again, but with a newfound sense of hope. Maybe there was something better waiting for me out there, after all. ★★★ Andrea Fernandez, an unpopular newspaper reporter from Cebu, had her life changed with one simple contract: to become "Carmen Dela Cruz" for the wealthy and influential Dela Cruz family. To get paid and fund an expensive surgery fee for her aunt's son, Andrea must complete five seemingly impossible tasks while living as Carmen Dela Cruz. Along this journey, she meets Miguel Rodriguez, whose presence could change everything in unexpected ways. Will Andrea fulfil her obligations or will something else take precedence? Read The Contracted Billionaire Heiress to find out!

The things we want are so very rarely the things we need. Clifton Heights, a modest Adirondack town, offers many unique attractions. Arcane Delights sells both paperbacks and hard-to-find limited editions. The Skylark Diner serves the best home-cooked meals around, with friendly service and a smile. Every August, Mr. Jingo’s County Fair visits, to the delight of children and adults. In essence, Clifton Heights is the quintessential small American town. Everyone knows everyone else, and everyone is treated like family. It is quiet, simple, and peaceful. But shadows linger here. Flitting in dark corners, from the corner of the eye. If you walk down Main Street after dark, the slight scrape of shoes on asphalt whispers you're not alone, but when you look over your shoulder, no one is there. The moon shines high and bright in the night sky, but instead of throwing light, it only seems to make the shadows lengthen. Children disappear. Teens run away. Hunters get lost in the woods with frightening regularity. Husbands go mad, and wives vanish in the dead of night. And still, when the sun rises in the morning, you are greeted by townspeople with warm waves and friendly smiles, and the shivers pass as everything seems fresh and new... Until night falls once more. Handy's Pawn and Thrift sits several blocks down from Arcane Delights. Like any thrift store, its wares range from the mundane to the bizarre. By daylight, it seems just another slice of small town Americana. But in its window hangs a sign which reads: We Have Things You Need. And when a lonely traveling salesman comes looking for something he desperately wants, after normal visiting hours, after night has fallen, he will face a harsh truth among the shelves of Handy’s Pawn and Thrift: the things we want are rarely the things we need. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

Ever since we were kids, I'd always known how to make use of my gentle childhood friend for things like sending him on errands, and borrowing his allowance. He never complained. Just silently indulged me. Things continued the same way until the day we got engaged. That's when everything snapped into place. That was the day we both woke up. I was just a throwaway character in a novel. He was the male lead—fated to fall in love and end up with the novel's heroine. I was stunned. Ready to walk away. But he was furious. Jaw clenched, eyes wild. He grabbed my hand and dragged me straight to City Hall. "Screw the novel. Screw the plot. The only thing I know is that I love you, and I want forever with you." After we got married, he treated me like I was made of glass. Gentle. Meticulous. We worked side by side, building a reputation as a power couple in the business world. The events of the novel faded into the background. I fell deeper in love with him. Three years later, the youngest daughter of a real estate tycoon started her internship at our company. That day, there was a fire in the office. In the chaos, the girl stumbled into a shelving unit. It came crashing down, headed straight for my husband. I didn't hesitate. I threw myself in front of him. Pain exploded in my skull. Blood poured down my face. The girl, in her panic, had fallen to the ground, crying out, "Aaron, help me!" My husband's face went pale. His expression—pure terror—as he ran toward her without a second thought. "Grace!" he cried. Lightning split through me. My face drained of color. The heroine in the novel—her name was Grace.

My husband is poor. We've already been married for three years, but I've covered all our expenses during that time. Even when I'm interested in a cheap bag when we go shopping, he says it's too expensive. He tells me not to buy it. Later, I discover that he gives his first love a four-million-dollar diamond necklace for her birthday. It turns out he's not broke and heavily in debt—he's the heir to an affluent family with a net worth of billions of dollars.