The Fault Is Not Yours

"Don't underestimate me!" She growled, pressing the knife against his neck on their wedding night. "Don't mistake my kindness for my weakness." "You look so hot pinning me against the wall and the knife pressing me against my neck," he smirked. ˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷ Weylin Turner, the vicious leader of the mafia organization 'The Black Panther' returned to England after fifteen years. At a party, he learned that his marriage was already fixed with the daughter of one of the most powerful mafia organizations in England. But on the day of the marriage, the bride didn't appear. To save his father's face, he immediately ordered his subordinates to find a bride for him. Suddenly his eyes fell on Garaine Jones, a cheerful caregiver at an orphanage. He couldn't help but take advantage of the situation. Finding her weakness, he compelled her to become his bride. To his surprise, she agreed to his terms and conditions easily. Little did he know that Garaine Jones wasn't some ordinary woman as he thought. She was something beyond his imagination. Did the predator himself become prey while chasing his fantasies?

He inherited billions… but not the family name. Noah Quinn was just a broke mechanic—until a dead billionaire claimed him as his son and left him everything. Now thrust into a world of boardroom sharks and backstabbing heirs, he’s got one rule: trust no one. Especially not Lena Vale—the billionaire’s ice-cold stepdaughter who wants him out, humiliated, or dead. But secrets don’t stay buried forever. And in this empire of lies, power isn’t given… It’s taken.

Some fates are written in the stars. Others must be rewritten in fire. Lucille, born into the lowest-ranking werewolf pack, the Omegas, called, the Commoners, never imagined the Moon Goddess would mate her to someone so far above her: the heir to the third most powerful man in the nation. But what should have been her salvation became her downfall. Despised and humiliated by her fated mate, Lucille broke a sacred law by rejecting him, unaware of the consequences. Branded a traitor, she was sentenced to five years of servitude in his home, enduring cruel treatment under his command. When she dared to escape, even briefly, the punishment nearly broke her. Then everything changed. A newly elected High Councilor overturned her sentence, granting her the one thing she thought she’d never have again. Freedom. Now Lucille is determined to build a future on her own terms. But fate isn’t done with her yet. When she falls in love with a man who makes her believe in happiness again, she discovers a devastating truth: he is the cousin of her former mate. Their love is forbidden. The laws are clear. And the Goddess may not forgive her a second time. Can love survive when destiny has already spoken? Will Lucille forever be bound to the stigma of her choices forever? Or will fate, give her a second embrace?

During Christmas break, my boyfriend, Trevor Hayes, asks me to stop by and feed the dog that his childhood friend, Evelyn Summers, keeps at her place. I bring a bag of kibble over. But the second I open the door, a huge pit bull lunges at me and bites into my face and arms. Luckily, a neighbor hears me screaming and pulls me out of its jaws, but the damage is already done. The scars will stay with me forever. I break down, but Trevor blames me instead. "You must've done something wrong when you fed Mojo and set him off. You just got a scar, but Mojo's dead!" The weight of it all crushes me until I climb a rooftop and jump. After dying, I see Trevor holding Evelyn in his arms. "Honey, you're so clever. Starving Mojo for a few days really worked. Now, she's dead. We can finally be together." When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Trevor asks me to go feed that dog.

Everyone in Asterhaven knew—Maxwell Porter hated Zoey Bradford. Hated how she clung so desperately to their marriage. Hated how she refused to set him free. He asked for a divorce. Ninety-nine times. But the hundredth time, when he thought she'd turn him down like always, her voice cut through the air, cold as ice that had been frozen for a thousand years. "Fine. Let's get divorced."

He caught hold of her leg and yanked backwards. She hung on and flailed both legs, kicking him in the head, the face. He fought to hold her legs down. Sweat lathered her hands. They slipped from the post. He yanked again. She rolled over to face him and punched with both fists. Her right fist caught him in the eye. He growled in pain, then threw himself on top of her, pinning her arms and legs. She screamed.She strained to free herself, lunged up to bite him. He jerked backwards. They slid down one stair. She tried to scream again. He slapped a palm over her mouth, his breath hot on her face.She fought him until they had tumbled down every stair. By the time they reached the bottom, every ligament burned. She stared at him wide-eyed, gasping for breath between his bruising fingers.She trembled violently, longed to run again but knew it would do no good. He stood at a good seven inches taller and outweighed her by at least fifty pounds. She didn't stand a chance.All she could do now was placate him. Do what he wanted... no matter what it was!

Charlotte Lewis refuses when she is forced by her parents to marry a rich widower with two children from her neighboring village. But, apparently her parents didn't just give up. She was forced to marry other man. However, this time it was not with a widower, but with a young man who was still single. Unfortunately, the man's profession is "Shoe Sole Maker". So, what will happen after Charlotte accepts the match?

Lorsque le reflet d'un secret oublié émerge, le fils d'un amour façonné par le mensonge se retrouve face à un miroir troublant. La quête de vérité s'amorce, comme un chemin obscur à travers une forêt dense, où chaque pas pourrait révéler des vérités enfouies. Les échos du passé résonnent, et les masques commencent à se fissurer, menaçant d'exposer l'obscurité tapie au cœur de cette existence façonnée par l'illusion.

"Hayden, you have been a bad boy have you not?" Vincenzo said to me as he unclasped his belt and drew it off his waist, his muscles flexing. "What do you mean-" "Turn around!" He demanded from me as he did so before I could do it. He wrapped the belt around my hands and tightened it. "Vincenzo?" I whisper yelled at him with a glare. "Get on your knees little prince and open your mouth for me. Daddy needs to punish you." "Why?" "Shut your mouth before I do it with my dick Hayden," he threatened me with an evil smirk. "You would not dare!" I snapped at him before letting out a gasp as he pulled his hardened cock out of his boxers, the cap of the monster pink and shiny with precum. "Oh little prince, I would dare," he said as he forced me to my knees with a hand on my shoulder. "Good boy," he groaned as he slid his dick into my mouth, my wetness wrapping around his cock. "Ah, your mouth feels so good," he murmured. And then he began to move, his cock growing more inside of my mouth. ...... Hayden and Vincenzo clash in a battle of wits and strength. Though they are attracted just as much as they despise each other, they are drawn together in an intense and dangerous game. It takes two to tango. It takes two to play the dangerous game. And the winner takes all.

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.