Thanks To Myself

​It was a matter of benefit: I had to stop the CEO's wedding. ​It was a matter of reputation: I had to become the CEO's wife. ​For my heart's sake, I must hide my son and myself from his father, the CEO, while I execute my revenge

If I just knew that youʼre my best friend crush I should avoid you in the first place, I shouldnʼt entertain you, I shouldnʼt give myself a chance to love you. But what can I do if I already inlove with you?

"I didn’t know I was marrying two people. He wore the suit, but she pulled the strings. The day I walked down the aisle, eyes locked with the man I loved, I thought I had found peace. I thought I was finally leaving behind the noise of my childhood, the ache of loneliness, and the years I spent praying for a love that would choose me, only me. But no one told me that some men never truly leave their mothers. They marry, yes,but their hearts remain tangled in an invisible umbilical cord, one that stretches past vows, past bedrooms, past boundaries. I moved into our new home, only to find that the walls had ears, hers. We lived in separate flats, but it never truly felt like my space. My marriage was a room she walked into, uninvited but ever present. Her opinions dripped into our arguments, her eyes followed me from behind lace curtains, and her voice echoed in decisions that should have belonged to me and my husband. At first, I kept quiet. I told myself it was cultural. Respect. Family. Then I told myself it was temporary. Then I stopped telling myself anything at all, because nothing I said made a difference. This is not a story of hate. It’s a story of love, tested by bloodlines, boundaries, and a battle I never asked to fight. This is my truth. The marriage I thought was mine. The home that never really felt like home. And the rules I never agreed to, but had to live by, simply because… I was under her roof".

Adrian Quirrel, the heir to the Quirrel family, had been in poor health since childhood. Guided by the old superstition that marriage could restore his health, his family had taken in four young women, with only one to be chosen as his bride. On the selection day, they invited a renowned astrologer to read our birth charts. As soon as he said I carried a healing energy and could bear healthy heirs, the Quirrels decided on the spot that I would be Adrian's bride. Three months later, his health miraculously improved, and I soon found myself pregnant with twins—a boy and a girl. The family elders were ecstatic and even promised that my son would become the Quirrels' future heir. But on the night of the christening, Adrian locked me and the babies in the basement. I broke down and demanded an explanation. He sneered and replied, "If it weren't for your so-called 'healing energy,' Emily would've been my wife. "She wouldn't have jumped to her death at such a young age if she hadn't been pushed to that point. Tonight, I want you and your children to accompany her in death." He grabbed a nearby iron rod and savagely brought it down onto our babies. I threw myself over the babies, but Adrian kicked me aside. Blood splattered across the walls and floor, and my babies' breathing gradually weakened until it stopped. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Adrian chose his bride.

The darkest paranormal love story!!Imara Parker is a witch condemned to die over and over again. Ben Logan is a werewolf who would do anything to stop that from happening. When the cruel hand of Fate binds you to the one who damned you, finding your soul mate is a curse.When Ben Logan meets the woman of his dreams, he thanks the Fates for blessing him until he finds out she's been marked for death. But the harder Ben tries to hold onto his mate, the quicker she slips through his fingers.In this time traveling dark romance, you'll be visited by familiar characters from the Tessa's Wolves Universe as they try to help Ben and Imara break the curse and finally live out their lives together in peace.

My Needs. My Demands. Your Pleasure. You're Welcome. She had one year left of college when our parents got married. And thanks to being raised in poverty, she needed help with her expenses. My dad, being the benevolent billionaire, stepped up without question. But there was a catch. She had to intern at the firm for a year. With me. As her boss. Poor sweet little thing. She has no clue what she’s up against, but she’ll figure it out soon. I don’t play typical games, but the ones I do play, I always win. And regardless of how taboo our relationship might become, I’m all in. The reward is worth the risk. I just hope she can keep up with my many demands.

I never believed in second chances. Not after Cynthia. She was my confidant… until death tore her from me and left this mansion echoing with ghosts. Inilibing ko na rin ang puso ko kasabay ng pakamatay ni Cynthia . She was my wife. My peace. My mistake. Then her daughter moved in. Liza. The forbidden reminder of everything I shouldn’t want—young, alive, reckless in ways her mother never was. She looks at me like she sees through the monster I’ve become. Sa tuwing ngingiti siya,  the ache in my chest returns—violent, dangerous, hungry. Every brush of her skin ignites something I can’t bury anymore. I tell myself it’s guilt. I tell myself I’m just protecting her. Pero ang totoo? I want her. Hindi bilang stepdaughter. Not as Cynthia’s child. I want her as mine—completely, ruinously, irredeemably mine. They’ll call me a sinner. A man who crossed the line. Ngunit sa tuwing tinitingnan ako ni Liza, trembling, wanting... I knew I’d already crossed it. I tell myself I’m protecting her, but each night, the lie weakens. Because when she looks at me, it isn’t fear I see—it’s want. And God help me... I want her too. This isn’t love. It’s a beautiful disaster. And I’d burn the world just to feel her breathe my name again.

"i never know myself until i found you" —zaira "i never know how to love until i found you" —gavin wil there be a happy ending in a world full of violence? may pag-asa paba ang pag-iibigang minsan nang nawasak dahil sa hindi pagkakaintindihan?

I never thought I could find myself sucking the dìck of a man I should call father and made him moan out so loud. I found myself going back to have him finger and pound my clit, ripping moans off my throat as day passed by. I found myself moaning to him every single day, taking all his sexual command and fantasies, being daddy’s naughty girl and wishing for nothing other than his 8 inches dick buried deep into my wet clit. I grew up invisible, the illegitimate daughter of a woman who valued status more than motherhood. While she chased elite society, I learned to survive on my own, retreating into art and quiet fantasies of being chosen by someone who would finally see my worth. Everything changes when my mother marries Calder Rhys, a billionaire widower seeking stability, not love. Thrust into a world of wealth and rigid expectations, I moved into the Rhys mansion and met Wells, Calder’s polished and charismatic son. Drawn to him despite knowing he is unavailable, I mistake attention for affection, unaware that my longing is about to pull me into something far more dangerous. A single mistake blurs boundaries that should never be crossed. Caught between a mother who sees me as a liability, an elite society eager to destroy me, and a man whose influence could either protect or ruin me, I must decide who I want to become.

Jack Cooke—my husband, who'd never so much as scrambled an egg—suddenly went full kitchen freak. He bought a ton of pots and spatulas, then spent all day just... polishing them. When I called him out, he shrugged. "I like things clean. That a crime now?" Behind him? A mountain of dirty socks. Then it got weirder. He dragged all the kitchen stuff into our bedroom. At night, he'd get weird with a dishcloth. Like, disturbingly weird. I was done. I asked for a divorce. Jack stormed into a private dining room and shredded the papers right in front of our investors. "You're seriously ending our marriage over this? Kinda dramatic, don't you think?" I didn’t blink. “I gave up my spot for your pots and pans. A little thanks wouldn’t kill you.”