Tình Yêu Ảo Ảnh Novels & Stories

“Get off of me!” I shouted, pushing him as hard as I could. Tristan looked surprised, and the next moment, I saw him glaring at me. “What’s your problem?” he asked, annoyed. I looked at him dangerously. “Trying to kiss me, huh? I won’t let you touch me again! Ever!” ********************************* Elaine Scott, a humble omega maid, unexpectedly finds herself in the spotlight when she marries Tristan Hale, the Alpha heir of the Wolfsilver Pack, as a gesture of gratitude for saving his mother's life. Elaine believes their marriage is based on mutual affection, but Tristan secretly resents her, thinking she has manipulated his parents into marrying him. Tristan's bitterness escalates following the sudden death of his parents, and he directs his anger towards Elaine, subjecting her to misery and isolation. Seeking solace, Tristan turns to Megan Smith, his mistress, further cementing Elaine's plight in a loveless marriage. However, fate intervenes when a tragic car accident wipes Elaine's memory clean, erasing the past five years, including her feelings for Tristan. Initially relieved, Tristan becomes unsettled when Elaine no longer exhibits the deference he expects and begins questioning Elaine’s sudden change. As Elaine tries to move forward, Tristan has a change of heart and wants her back. But Elaine is done with him and is ready to move on. But, is she?

On the Memorial Day weekend, Mason Hayes, the student my wife, Abigail Sullivan, had been sponsoring, insisted on riding with me back to his hometown. My car was small, the drive was long, and the trunk was already packed. There was no way to fit another adult, so I turned him down as politely as I could. That night, Abigail came home and stayed quiet for a long time before finally saying, "He ended up walking along the highway. His feet were torn up." I frowned, trying to make sense of it. "It's a holiday weekend. There are Ubers everywhere. He could've booked one in minutes." She nodded softly, the same gentle expression she always wore, and poured me a glass of water. I drank it. The next thing I knew, everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing under a brutal midday sun on an empty stretch of highway. Abigail leaned into Mason's shoulder, holding her phone up as she livestreamed. There was a faint smile on her lips, but there was nothing warm about it. "You said getting around was easy, right? Why don't you try walking home yourself?" The livestream was packed. The chat flooded with messages, people placing bets on how far I would make it. I looked straight into the camera, ran my tongue over my cracked lips, and said, "Done enjoying the show? Now come and pick me up."

When sincere love ends up in betrayal, can love be found again unexpectedly? Anaya's world topples when she sees her fiance proposing to another woman. Shattered and devastated

I had just gotten home when a parent in my son’s class group chat erupted: [Ms. Zinn, what kind of place are you running? Do you let just any random stray off the street become a teacher?] [My daughter came home, grabbed two forks, and tried to jump off the balcony. She said it was Miss Never who told her to!] The homeroom teacher panicked and denied it at once, insisting there was no such person as Miss Never at the kindergarten. She even posted the official teaching schedule in the chat to prove it. On the security footage, there was not a single trace of this so-called Miss Never. However, later, my son whispered to me in secret, “Mom, Miss Never is an old lady with a cat’s face.” “She says only kids can see her.”

Asher didn't plan to see Kai Voss again after that night. He planned to pay his mother's medical bills, keep his head down, and survive. Then Kai — commanding, possessive, the kind of CEO who fills a room without trying — offers him a job that pays more than Asher has ever seen. It's just business. It has to be. What follows is slow and inevitable. Close quarters, charged silences, and a dominant man who looks at Asher like he's the only thing worth looking at, then retreats behind cold authority by morning. The line between professional and something far more consuming dissolves faster than either of them planned. Asher knows better. He falls anyway. Then he finds out what Kai's empire is built on. What — who — it cost. His father. Everything reframes in an instant. Every kindness, every stolen look, every moment Asher mistook for something real. The man he's been falling for is connected to the death that hollowed out his family — and now he has to decide what to do with a truth that arrived too late, wrapped in something that feels dangerously like love. Vengeance or surrender. Hatred or the thing quietly replacing it. Some men are impossible to trust. Some are impossible to leave. Kai Voss is both.

Ronan Blackthorne gets the same coffee every morning. Black, no sugar. From the same girl who doesn't even know he's worth billions. Annabelle thinks he's just another suit with good tips and a nice smile. She has no clue he owns half of Manhattan. Here's the thing though, Ronan's got a problem. His dead father just screwed him over big time. Turns out daddy had a secret daughter somewhere, and she owns 35% of everything Ronan thought was his. Now he's hunting this mystery girl down because his psychotic mother Victoria won't shut up about finding her and making the problem disappear. The barista he's falling for is the girl he's looking for.

Peter Crowley finds out that it's been three days since I last lodged a purchase request from him. Thinking that I've finally learned how to become a good wife, he decides to text me as a form of reward. "I've already restored your adoptive mother's treatment privileges. You should be more docile from now on. Don't keep lying just to ask for more money from me. "I know that it's tough, being from the bottom rung of the society and all, but I'm not a gullible idiot, you know." What Peter doesn't know is that I've already finished drafting a divorce agreement by the time I receive his text. Before leaving the manor, the only thing I can take with me is the white T-shirt and the jeans I wore when I first married into this family. No one will ever believe that I, the glamorous and radiant Mrs. Crowley, don't have enough decent clothes to take up an entire closet. Every cent meant for any private expenses needs to go through a corporate approval system. All of the fancy clothes and jewelry are locked up in a safe, too. If I ever need money, I'll have to submit a request to Peter's secretary, Cara Harden. This is all because Peter looks down on my background. He thinks that I'll somehow develop a bad habit of spending money excessively just because I've married rich. But three days ago, my adoptive mother was in critical condition. I quickly put in a request for 200 thousand dollars for her surgical bills, only for Cara to drag out the approval system's procession. In the end, my adoptive mother died in the hospital. Peter has no idea that the only reason why I can tolerate his behavior for so many years is for the sake of the medical resources that can cure my adoptive mother. Now that my adoptive mother is dead, there's no need for me to continue staying in this marriage.

BLURB I think a lot people don’t understand what romance is. Daniel Prescott is not an exemption, the ruthless billionaire only cares about himself and no other family but when it was time for him to get married. He filled a contract marriage to the Rose Hildegard, a woman that believe in love and flowers Rose who had to compel just for the sake of her sick grandfather’s last wish agreed and signed the papers until their first night and he candidly warned her not to even hope for a marital union. She was trapped in an only sexual relationship even though she owned an empire. What’s left for her? What is left for the ruthless billionaire when he starts to fall in love but she’s already falling for his best friend?.

It was the day of our marriage. We were supposed to meet up at the City Hall, but my fiancee stood me up. I waited for her the whole day, and the only answer I got was a picture from her assistant. My girlfriend sat astride on his lap, and her arms were wrapped around his neck while they were locked in a deep kiss. "Sorry, Mr. Terraton. Sophie insisted on comforting me. You don't mind, do you?" I demanded answers from my girlfriend, but that only made her impatient. "He donated his blood to me. Yeah, I was with him, but so what? Man up, will you?" That killed any love I had for her, and I called my soon-to-be ex-girlfriend's sister. "Hey, Sylvie. Yeah, about your proposal. So will you marry me?"

During the third year of our marriage, my husband's ex—whom he dated for eight years—suddenly shares a photo of a ten-million-dollar marital home on her social media. It's captioned, "I've finally gotten a mansion! Who's the best at dating? I am!" I gape at the image—I see my husband swiping his card at the real estate sales office in a corner of the photo. I leave a question mark in the comments. In the next second, my husband calls me to tell me off. "I'm just making good on a promise I made her when we were dating—to buy her a marital home. Why did you have to go insult her like that? Are you evil enough to turn me into a man who goes back on his word?" That evening, his ex shares another photo of a million-dollar renovation bill. I know it's a gift from my husband to appease her, but I don't care anymore…