Through A Glass Darkly Shakespeare

Two weeks before our wedding, Jonah Alston suddenly wants to postpone it. He says, "Sasha says she's having her first exhibition on that day. She'll be alone during the opening, and I'm worried she'll get stage fright. I have to help her. We're just going through the motions with the wedding, anyway. What does it matter whether it's a day earlier or later?" This isn't his first time postponing our wedding for Sasha Lester's sake, though. The first time he did it was because he claimed she missed having homecooked food after undergoing surgery. He'd flown abroad to care for her for two months. The second time was because he said she wanted to head into the mountains to get inspired. He'd gone with her out of concern for her safety. Now, this is the third time. I hang up and look at Austin Everett, my childhood sweetheart. He sits across from me, looking leisurely as he taps his emerald-embedded walking cane on the marble floor. I ask, "Do you need a wife?" On my wedding day, Sasha holds up her glass and waits for Jonah to clink it with his. However, his eyes are red as he watches a livestream—it's the wedding of the scion of Everett Group, the country's largest property development company.

"Do you want me to stop?" Darlington growled, his thick cock buried deep inside her, stretching her with slow, deliberate thrusts that made her tremble. "No," Freya moaned, legs wrapped tight around his waist, hips rocking desperately to take him deeper. "God, no... harder." She was supposed to seduce him. Spy on him. Steal his secrets to save her dying mother. But the city's most ruthless billionaire, Darlington Knight, saw right through her from the moment she walked into his world. Now he's the one claiming her—pinning her against silk sheets, against cold glass walls, in the dark heat of his penthouse—fucking her senseless until she forgets her mission, forgets her lies, forgets everything but the way he owns her body. Every touch is dangerous. Every kiss a threat. He knows she's hiding something... and he's going to make her beg to confess—on her knees, breathless, dripping for him. Freya came to betray him. Instead, she's falling—hard, fast, and filthy—into a passion that could ruin them both. Even though Darlington might have his secrets, will he still see her the same way after finding out she was just a spy sent to seduce him?"

Samantha Sonnet, my wife who's also a hospital dean, decides to replace my name with Nicholas Spark, the intern's name on the surgical atlas that I've spent the last three years drafting without my permission. That atlas is then published. I burn the only original draft of the atlas in front of the entire department. Samantha blames me for being brash. "He's just leaving his name there so that he can ensure a smoother project closeout." After dusting the ashes away, I reply, "My academic achievements will always be mine. Since someone else's name is printed on my achievements, that means they are no longer pure." Later at midnight, Samantha hands me a glass of warm milk in an attempt to apologize to me. When I regain consciousness once again, I've already gotten strapped to a surgical table beneath a huge spotlight. I see a scalpel glinting coldly right above me. "You're a man of purity, right?" Samantha murmurs into my ear. "Three people's blood will be coursing through your veins soon enough. You'll be impure soon enough!" At the moment, Samantha is livestreaming an illegal organ removal surgery. As I stare at the camera hovering above my head, I say coldly, "If you've recorded enough evidence, then it's time to turn off the camera! Tell Captain Hardy that I've gotten my hands on the evidence he wants!"

One night...it all started with one time..a night of passion and lust...a night that changed her life forever Mystique never wanted to go to a bar because of past experiences but once again she was dragged by her best friend to catch some fun. Gulping glass after glass, a handsome, devilish man came to her rescue and they shared a wonderful night that ceased to erase from their minds. A night that left a seed in her. Mystique was just a normal girl, a college drop out and took care of her sick uncle till she had a wonderful encounter with a powerful CEO, instantly conceiving his child. Mystique was instantly dragged into a world of guns, power, and drug, dragged into the secret life of a Mafia where she released the world wasn't as it seemed, where everything and everyone was twisted in one way or the other. Losing her unborn baby in the process of the drama, Mystique realized she wasn't just a normal girl as she thought, she was part of a world with lies, secrets, manipulative minds, twisted mindset, guns, love, and sovereignty... Mystique realized just like everyone else, she was just prey in a game of chess...in other to live the life she want with the man she loves, Mystique lost everything she hold there... Or so she thought till he came back, knocking on her door. Who got stained in this game of chess...?

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.

I stepped closer. Close enough to smell his cologne—cedarwood, leather, and power. My hand moved. Smooth, practiced. The pistol slide from under the apron into my palm. I raised it fast. But before I could pull the trigger— BANG. Not my shot. A scream tore through the restaurant as another man launched himself toward Romano’s table, blade flashing. Another assassin. What the hell— Romano didn’t flinch. He shoved the table forward, knocking the attacker off balance. The blade scraped across wood, not skin. I ducked instinctively as the room erupted into chaos. Gunfire cracked. Glass exploded. People screamed and dove for cover. “Get him out—NOW!” one of the guards barked. I aimed for the second attacker. Didn’t even hesitate. One shot—head. Gone. The guard saw me. Confusion flashed in his eyes. Then rage. I ran. I weaved between overturned chairs, plates, and screaming bodies. The smell of blood was real now, thick in the air. One of the guards grabbed me. I slammed my elbow into his ribs, twisted, and brought the butt of my gun down on his skull. He dropped like a sack of bricks. Out. I had to get out. My boots pounded the floor as I tore through the narrow hallway. But then— “Elisa.” His voice stopped me cold. I turned. Antonio Romano stood in the middle of the carnage, suit untouched, blood spattered behind him like art. His eyes were on me. And he was smiling. It was darker. Slower. Like a hunter seeing something worth chasing. Somehow, he knew who I was. “Interesting,” he said softly, tilting his head. “They sent you.” I didn’t answer. I ran. But that voice followed me. He knew my name. And he let me go. This wasn’t over. It had just begun.

Five years. Five years of waiting. Five years of loving him in secret. She thought she knew the truth—until the night everything shattered. Trapped between a man who wants to destroy her and the wolf inside the one she loves, she must fight to survive… and to save him. “Oh my God… what happened?? Why are you like this??” she cried, holding him close. “It’s already too late for me,” he whispered, pain etched in every word. “No!! You can’t die!! I won’t let you!!” “I'm so sorry… I have never regretted having you as my mate,” he murmured, a faint smile on his lips. But some battles aren’t won with strength alone. Some sacrifices come at a cost she’s not ready to pay. “I accept your rejection,” he said, his final words tearing her world apart. When love, loyalty, and rage collide, can she escape with her heart—and her life—intact, or will the ones she trusts the most be the ones who destroy her? A heart-pounding, darkly emotional tale of love, betrayal, and the choices that haunt us forever.

"Please teach me to become a better writer!" "Oh?" Joaquin got his glass sipped his whiskey as he looked at me in a condescending manner. "I need something in return," he teased as he put his glass down on the table, making me nod excitingly. "Yes, yes! I would do anything you ask for!" Hearing her feedback, he stood up from his chair then walked towards me, chuckling. "Erm..." I stepped away from him, now bumping my back on the wall behind me. Surprised, I gasped as he did a breathtakingly hot "kabe-don". He then spoke near my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "What if I ask... for a collaboration?" --- Haven Thorne, a young woman who is eager to become a great writer, secretly attended a party that was hosted by a popular and rich top author, Joaquin Greyson. Wanting to learn from the great writer, Haven gathered her courage and visited his home for consecutive days even after the constant rejections. Irritated, Joaquin entertained the persistent woman to stop her. Seeing her determination however, piqued his interest and had agreed to her request—even asking for a collaboration! Will the top author really be willing to teach the newbie, or will he lose his patience? Will she able to meet the demands of her experienced mentor, or will she disappoint him? With that in mind, what will their pen and passion teach them? Love, hate… or something more?

A single line of code was all it took to catch a monster’s attention. After infiltrating the world’s most secure tech empire, a brilliant young hacker, Elliot Lane, finds himself taken—not to jail—but to the glass penthouse of Timothy Blackwood, a cold, calculating billionaire. Timothy doesn’t rage. He doesn’t threaten. He studies. He claims. He obsesses. What begins as punishment becomes possession… and what begins as control slowly turns into something far more dangerous. A desire neither of them is ready to admit.

Ann’s father Joe brought her step-mother and step-sister home immediately after Ann’s mother died. Like Cinderella, Ann had hard time dealing with these two new family members. One day, Ann drank a glass of cocktail which was brought by step-mother to her, and she became unconscious soon after that. When woke up the next morning, Ann found herself naked in a hotel room. Besides, there was blood on the sheet. What happened the night before? What would happen to her next? Ann was confused.