Novel & Cerita The End Of Days Novel

"Fall in love with me, and you lose ten million." That's not a threat. That's the deal. Cassian Wolfe doesn't make offers. He delivers ultimatums. Billionaire. Sports mogul. Champion horse racer. He built an empire on broken rules and even more broken people. He doesn't negotiate. He dominates. He doesn't forget. He collects. And Sadie Sinclair? She was always his favorite thing to break. He tortured her through high school. Mocked her through college. Humiliated her in ways that still burn under her skin. He slammed her confidence into the dirt and then stepped over her like she was nothing. And now he's back, richer and colder than ever, with the same sharp jaw, the same cruel smirk, and a proposition that makes her skin crawl. Her father's legacy is dying. Silvermane Stables is seconds from being swallowed by debt. And Cassian is the only one holding a check big enough to keep it alive. But his terms? Brutal. She has to work under him. Live with him. Stand by while he takes over everything she ever loved. And help him launch one final race under her father's name. Thirty days. One contract. One rule. If she falls in love with him, even for a second, the ten million bonus disappears. She wants to hate him. Should hate him. But Cassian doesn't just get under her skin. He rips it open and dares her to bleed. He taunts. He smirks. He walks in like he owns the world and smells the second her knees go weak. He's poison. Pain. Power in a suit. And thirty days might not be enough to stop her from crawling into his bed and begging him to destroy her all over again.

The hotel called, politely reminding me that the condoms used last night were unpaid and had been charged to my membership card. I was stunned. I'd been working late until midnight and hadn't set foot in any hotel. I confronted my husband, the only person who knew my card code. Nathan Phelps looked at me, bewildered. "Honey, that hotel costs over $10,000 a night. I'd never go there. It's probably a system error. Someone must have mistyped the card number. I'll file a complaint tomorrow." Unconvinced, I called my best friend, who managed the hotel. "Tracy, check who Nathan was with at the hotel last night. I'm catching him red-handed."

“Calder wanted to divorce. But I got him to agree to something crazy first.” My friend Lena's brows lift. “What is it?” “One last month,” I say. “I am going to really have him… as his real wife.” Her eyes widen and she grins. “He agreed to be your husband… in every way?” Three years ago, my husband Calder was supposed to marry my sister. On the wedding week, she vanished. So, I became the replacement bride. But Calder never saw me as a woman, just Yara’s little sister. We live like roommates while I pine for him. “Mia, you do know what you’re doing? Yes? I’m worried you’re going to get hurt,” Lena says plainly. “I’m not a child anymore, this is my choice.” She searches my face. “And after the month?” “I’ll move forward,” I say. “With or without him.”

'No matter what, No matter the time, No matter the place, No matter the century, No matter what's to come, I. will always. CHOOSE. YOU'. Everyone saw her as crazy..... But he saw her as nothing less than perfection. ................... "Why?" was the only thing he said. Confused I asked "Why what?" "Why do you always do this to yourself?" the tone in which he spoke almost seemed like he was heartbroken about something. "Do what?" I dared to ask, although I knew already within me I wouldn't like his response. "Conceal your worth" ....................... If you like this small insight of the story then please read on. The only thing I can guarantee you in this story is that it will definitely have an happy ending although for the two characters Rica and Dili to achieve that, they would have too pass through many difficult obstacles on their way to happiness. And trust me this isn't your normal Teenage story that is filled with rainbows and sunshine, there are a lot of gloomy days. If you don't mind that then please by all means do read on. .................. NOTE: This is a pure work of fiction. An original story by me. Buy me coffee? https://ko-fi.com/missrina

Nyra Calder has spent three years building a life that does not require anyone to die for it. A quiet apartment. A kind man who loves her. A future that looks nothing like the compound she grew up in, where her father ran his empire on fear and she was trained to be its most precise instrument. She left all of it behind. She told herself she was done. Then her father turns up dead and the phone rings and the compound pulls her back like it never let go. She returns expecting grief. What she gets is a cellar, a drugged drink, and the man she planned to marry watching her fall with a face she has never seen before. Magnus was never who she thought he was. The life she built was constructed on top of something rotten. And the only person in her world who has never once lied to her is Raze Calder, the man she left, the man she has never stopped wanting, the man who looks at her like three years was nothing more than a delay. Nyra does not need saving. She never did. But she is about to find out what she actually needs, and it is nothing like what she chose.

"I need you to smile, darling," Adrian whispers, his fingers digging into Isabella's waist as cameras flash. "Your father's business empire depends on it." The champagne in her glass trembles as Isabella forces herself to play the perfect mafia bride. She hasn't told him about the baby yet. Hasn't mentioned the way his eyes linger on the judge's daughter, Elena. Hasn't revealed that she knows about the poison they've planned for her "tragic accident." But Isabella Romano isn't going down without a fight. "Please," she whispers to Santa Muerte as poison burns through her veins. "Give me a chance to make them pay." Death has a price. Isabella awakens in the body of Valentina Salvatore—wife to Adrian's greatest rival and mother to twin girls who somehow see through her deception. She has 150 days to either claim vengeance or find true love. The clock is ticking, and Nicolas Salvatore, her new "husband," is proving dangerously easy to fall for. "You're not really her, are you?" Nicolas murmurs one night, his fingers tracing her jaw. "My Valentina never looked at me the way you do." But as Isabella navigates the deadly waters of rival crime families, she discovers Valentina had secrets of her own—secrets worth dying for. Now, with her father plotting a takeover, Adrian suspicious of her resurrection, and her borrowed body slowly rejecting her soul, Isabella must choose: the revenge she died for, or the love she never expected to find. In this dangerous game of second chances, some fates are worse than death. And some loves are worth dying for twice.

"What the fuck—” I started. He looked up at me. His lips were wet, swollen. He licked them slowly, like he was savoring the taste. “Keep your hands where I left them,” he said. My jaw clenched. My knuckles went white against the bedsheets. I didn’t speak. I just watched him. He lowered his mouth again, slower this time. His tongue circled the tip, then slid down the side. I felt every second of it. Every inch. He paused halfway down and looked up at me again. “You like this too much.” My throat tightened. I didn’t answer. “Bet you’ve never let anyone make you beg.” *** Callum Kesington isn’t just a billionaire CEO. He doesn’t believe in love. He believes in control and power.But when his estranged brother resurfaces through a cryptic call, dragging him into a trail of files, threats, and old betrayals, everything he's built starts to crack. Remy Beckett, a rising star in the culinary world, is no strang to love but one man has him unraveled. A single dinner at Remy’s restaurant ignites an attraction that shakes Callum’s carefully guarded world. He’s never wanted a man before. Never craved the scrape of stubble against his skin or the heat of rough hands pinning him down. But Remy? He’s all Callum can think about. A shadowy attack leaves Remy bleeding in Callum’s arms, and suddenly, this isn’t about desire. It's about survival. Someone wants Remy dead, and Callum’s brother is at the center of it. Now, Callum must confront the ruthless empire he built, the family who betrayed him, and the truth he’s been denying.

After transmigrating through three novels in a row, the hardest thing I ever suffer through is drinking iced long black. But when I open my eyes again, I somehow become the pathetic simp side character in a trashy romance novel. Just as I debate whether to file a complaint against the system, the trembling system hurriedly explains something to me. Although this is a trashy romance novel, it is also an unfinished abandoned novel. I ask, "So you're saying I decide how the story develops?" The system replied, "Yes. Everything is completely under your control." Satisfied, I lazily stretch and begin checking the original Jacob's background. He has a trillionaire father and a billionaire mother. On top of that, he has seven rich and beautiful older sisters. With such a ridiculously overpowered setup, how can he go around simping for a broke college girl with no money? What a complete waste!

Awakening to a bewildering and astonishing reality, Seraphina found herself in an extraordinary situation: she had transmigrated into her own novel, stepping into the shoes of a character she had meticulously crafted. The male lead in her story was notoriously elusive, challenging to approach, and the master of a harem. Seraphina, now Zephyrine Everlynn, unexpectedly found herself among the women in his harem. It was utterly absurd! Promptly leaving the harem, Seraphina used her knowledge to help others win the male lead's heart, all for the right price. But why did the male lead continuously find his way back to her?

Clarence, the Vampire Prince, fell for me the moment he laid eyes on me. And I fell for him just as hard, just as hopelessly. I accepted his Embrace. The whole dark world knew he loved me more than life itself. He branded the rune of our blood bond directly over his heart. That lasted five centuries. Then I got the video from his new blood doll—a human stripper named Seraphina. She was sprawled naked in his lap, fresh bite marks dotting her throat. Using her own blood, she’d painted a crude sigil right beside the sacred rune meant only for me. And my mate had let her. “Clarence says my young blood is the only thing that makes him feel alive anymore,” she purred. “He says you’re a dead fish in bed, darling Molly. Time for the new generation to take over.” I didn't bother to reply. My fingers were steady as I contacted an ancient witch. “I need a glamour,” I said, my voice even and low. “A perfect human shell. One that will hide everything—my scent, my trail. All of it.”