This Is How I Disappear

Love. Love comes in different forms. For Ryder, his came as a nightmare. Haunted by rejection and heartache, Ryder Moon's life is turned upside down when he decides to run away from his pack. After going rouge, he's taken into Silver Moon pack where he rises through the ranks with a cruel determination. Years later, he takes over the pack as the leader, a formidable Alpha, void of emotions and empathy. But with great power comes great responsibilities. A pack with a mateless Alpha is a flaw so Ryder chooses a mate for himself. The strongest omega in the pack and his lover, Lexi Shepard. Despite not being fated to be together, he pushes for a wedding. Right before it happens though, Zed comes back into his life with a few more rogues. His entry back into Ryder's life shakes his tough resolve. Will Zed presence soften Ryder's stone cold heart or will he push Zed out of his life the same way he did with him, years ago?

I spent five years chasing Tyler Watson, only to get kidnapped right in front of him. He just stood there and watched. As a result, I suffered. After I escaped, he acted all high and mighty and proposed to make up for his tiny bit of guilt. The second we got our marriage certificate, the Simp System’s voice rang in my head. “Congrats, host! You’ve completed your mission.” Just like that, my sanity finally returned. While Tyler waited in a hotel for me to bring him contraceptives, I went live to expose his cheating. For good measure, I even called the anti-vice office to report my dear husband for soliciting prostitutes.

After three years of pretending to be dead on livestreams, I finally earned enough money to treat my daughter. I was about to go home and tell my wife and daughter when I overheard a call between the platform administrator and my wife. The administrator said humbly, “Chairman Morgan, Mr. Wells’s livestreams have generated tens of millions in revenue over these years. “The company withheld ninety-five percent of it. Should we keep withholding more?” Stacy fell silent for a moment before answering, “No need. Three years of testing him is enough. He barely moves year-round. He even developed muscle atrophy and didn’t tell me.” John’s voice came through the phone next. He said, “Stacy, Sam can even pretend to be dead, so what if this is an act too? “Besides, Emma’s already used to Sam being gone, so she probably won’t accept having a dad again anytime soon.” After some hesitation, my wife said indifferently, “If that’s the case, then withhold it for another six months.” I smiled and tossed the diagnosis report confirming amyotrophic lateral sclerosis into the trash. There was no need for them to test me anymore. I no longer needed to pretend.

TRIGGER WARNING!!! YOUR MORALS WILL NOT SURVIVE THIS BOOK!!! This story contains themes of obsession, possessiveness, stalking, emotional manip-ulation, and psychological control. It is unapologetically intense and unsettling in all the right (and wrong) ways. Be guided. *** Eight years ago, Shannon watched her stepbrother get handcuffed and taken to jail for a crime she committed. He took the fall for it without hesitation. Not because he was noble. God, no. But because obsession looks a lot like love when you're seventeen and scared. After that night, she never went to visit him in prison, nor did she reply to any of his letters. She buried him with the past and went on to live a peaceful life without him. But the past never forgets. Eight years later, when she was living a simple, peaceful life, had a decent job and a husband who loved her deeply, Shannon's past came knocking at her door. Strange things start happening... Doors left open. Favorite things mysteriously re-placed. Eyes she can't see but feels always watching her. Everyone says she's paranoid. Everyone says He is still in jail. No one believes her when she says she had a STALKER. Her judgment is already upon her because, now, HE is out of prison. And the first place he goes is her doorstep, because he says she owes him her life. And he's come to collect what's his. How far can Shannon run from a man who never stopped loving her in the most ter-rifying way? A man who'd kill anyone, even her husband, just to make her his? HIS NAME IS KENAI... The Stalker You Never Want To Have. *** If you enjoy slow-burn stalker dynamics and morally gray characters, this one's for you.

I hate them weak: the heroine of the story. I was one in mine but never again! I had vowed that until I stumbled upon an annoying book. A chubby weak heroine brutally rejected by her mate, the arrogant Alpha. “If I were that Luna, I would make that Alpha beg on his knees—on and off the ice.” I typed bitterly. But the universe mocked me, it made a”bet” with me and the next morning, I woke up in the webtoon as Avri, the weak heroine. Would I truly be able to bend the arrogant Alpha Killian on his knees? Who would win, the universe or I ? What Ancient secret lies between Alpha Killian and i?

Isang gabing hindi inaasahan ang tuluyang nagbago sa buhay ni Janella Caballero. Mula noon, pinili niyang bumangon at baguhin ang sarili—hindi para sa iba, kundi para sa sarili. Ngunit sa kaniyang pagbabalik, may isang lalaking hindi siya makalimutan… isang lalaking handang guluhin muli ang tahimik niyang mundo. At sa muli nilang pagtatagpo, unti-unting bubuksan ang mga lihim ng nakaraan—kasabay ng damdaming hindi nila inaasahang muling mag-aalab.

I stumbled across an encrypted folder on my husband's phone, filled with photos of a little girl I'd never seen before. From newborn to first steps, sorted by month—two full years' worth. But the child in those photos wasn't our daughter. When I confronted him, he said she was a girl named Rosie from the children's home I sponsored. The director sent growth updates, and he'd been saving them for me. I never imagined that my warm, thoughtful husband would use my charity to spin a lie. Because every single photo was geotagged to the apartment complex next to his office. And the children's home was on the other side of the city. I didn't call him out right then. Because I wanted to know whose child she really was.

For the past three months, I've slept only three hours every day just so my team and I can create an app. Thanks to our hard work, the app goes absolutely viral to the point we've garnered over 100 million registered users on the first week of its launch. At the afterparty, my wife, Stacie Woodward, announces that her godbrother, Tory Frost, who's the PR manager, will be the one receiving the million-dollar bonus. She then tosses me a few 50% discount coupons that can be used in shopping malls as my bonus. "You're just a code monkey—why do you need that much money anyway? You can have these discount coupons. Use them on anything you want. At least buy some nice clothes for yourself. Don't go around wearing these rags. You'll just end up humiliating me more." I plead to her in a low tone, "Have you gone crazy, Stacie? My dad needs the money for the best medication in order to save his life! Can you please stop joking around?" But Stacie clings to Toby's arm, looking high and mighty. "Your dad's dying, isn't he? He might as well stop wasting the public resources! I can always choose him a better grave and hold a nice funeral for him when his time comes!" As I look at Stacie's smug face, I just smile at her instead of getting mad at her. She must have forgotten that the app's core algorithm and the user growth model are built using my private, undisclosed technology stack. That means the copyright is mine and has nothing to do with the company. I just smile while nodding at Stacie. That night, I activate the technology stack's self-destruct and migration protocols.

Five years ago, my girlfriend, Stacie Garcia, got crippled in an attempt to save me. Out of guilt, I stayed by her side and took on all the hardest grunt work so that I could use all of the money I've earned on her. But when I'm in the middle of cleaning a Porsche's dealership, I witness Stacie flirting with another young man there. To my shock, she's even standing without any problems. Stacie tells the man in a generous manner, "Which car do you have your eye on? I'll buy you any car no matter how expensive it is as long as you like it!"

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.