Vegeta Holding Minion

From the time I was ten until I turned eighteen, my parents made me write 299 IOUs. Every time I needed money, I had to borrow it and pay it back as an adult. Then I got into a car accident. I needed money for surgery but was still short by 3,000. With no other options, I went to my parents for help. But they just gave me cold smiles. “Clara, you’re eighteen now. We have no obligation to give you money anymore. If you need it, write another IOU.” While holding back tears, I wrote my 300th IOU. After my surgery, I saw my adopted sister’s social media post. In the pictures, she was celebrating her 18th birthday on a cruise. She was the center of attention, like a princess. My parents had given her a luxury apartment in the city and a Maserati as birthday gifts. Even my childhood friend was looking at her with love in his eyes. She said they were the ones she loved and thanked them for giving her the best of everything. I looked down at the crumpled IOU in my hand and suddenly laughed. Once I paid off my debt, I would no longer need such a family.

WARNING— 18+ READ WITH CAUTION Slowly stroking her again he leaned down placing a kiss on her forehead. "Just calm down Kitten. No more crying." He extended a hand using it to wipe the tears that laid on her cheeks. Seeing them there didn't set right with him, she was suppose to be writhing in pleasure not crying in pain. "Do you not trust me?" Celeste nodded holding onto him for dear life. "I do." "Then spread your legs wider Kitten." **** Celeste always thought her life would change for the better, the future she had foreseen was one like no other; a mate that would love away her pain, a mate that would see only her, breathe only her. However, when she found herself mated to Zillon Macre; her life long crush as well as the future alpha of her pack, her dream remained just that, a dream. Her life did not change in the way she wanted it to, instead of better, it changed for the worst. Her insignificance didn't dissipate, it augmented, and somehow it left her being unwanted... By her pack members... Her family... And lastly by her mate who only craved for her twin sister.

After the 100th failed fertility treatment, my husband, who had been previously diagnosed with a low sperm count, spoke coldly. “Lucy is very fertile. She gets pregnant after our first time, unlike you. You just can’t conceive.” Lucy was my adoptive sister. While holding her hand, he laid out three options for me. I could either ignore their affair and retain my title as the CEO’s wife, take the ten million dollars and disappear, or walk away with nothing at all. The whole town knew how proud I was. They also knew how deeply I loved him. They surely expected me to be mad with jealousy and choose honor over compromise. But I neither cried nor made a scene. I calmly slid the check back across the table. “The child will call me Mom. I’ll stay and be Mrs. Carter.” After all, this was my third time to live such a life. The first time, I chose to leave with nothing but my dignity. The second time, I took the money, but had to live in shame. Both decisions ended in tragedy. For the third time, perhaps three of us could just... make it work.

My mother claims my husband has cheated on me and pushes me to get a divorce. I want to collect evidence before proceeding with anything—if it's true, I have to uphold my rights. Yet she causes a scene at an art exhibition I've worked on for three years, humiliating me in public and making me sound like a gold digger. "How are you any different from a prostitute when you're holding this dumb exhibition with a man's money? I didn't raise you to be a gold digger! How can you be so revolting?" She slashes the million-dollar paintings in the exhibition, claiming that she's doing this for my good. She wants me to see the error of my ways and return to the right path. Meanwhile, I clutch my bloody hand, which she slashed with her blade. I say, "You say you want me to return to the right path, but is that what it really is? You want me to divorce my legally wedded husband, who's a CEO, without a penny to my name. "Then, you want me to marry a 45-year-old cheap man who has a child and no money? He even wants me to support him!"

The Moon Goddess offered me her protection. If I died, I'd get one chance to be reborn through the werewolf trials. I was born with "sensory impairment." I wasn't an Omega, but I couldn't shift into a wolf. I couldn't see or sense wolves in their lupine forms or their power. When I appeared alongside ninety-nine other trial candidates in an ancient rainforest shrouded in thick fog and darkness, everyone assumed I wouldn't make it past the first day. But here I was, in the terrifying rainforest nests, treating a ghostly wolf pup, drowned for its unusual coat color, as my own little cub. And, I flirted with a bloodthirsty vampire spirit who took pleasure in killing, treating him like a lover. I even befriended the evil twin Hexenbiest, treating them like sisters. The first time we met, I reached out and ran my hand over the vampire's abs. "Nice body," I commented, "just a bit on the short side." He let out a humorless laugh, reattached the head he'd been holding to his neck, and gripped my chin. "I'm six-foot-five," he said. "Want to take another look?"

Diego strolled into his apartment, his heels clinking softly against the marble floor. He tossed his blonde wig on the couch, and his soft fingers propelled forward to count the dollar bills in his hands. “You're out crossdressing again?” His uncle, Roberto, a tall imposing figure with gray streaks on his hair walked into the room. “I might just have the perfect job for you,” Roberto chuckled softly and tossed a gun at Diego. “What?!” Diego's breath hitched in his throat as he swallowed the weight of the mission his uncle proposed. Cross dressing was one thing that Diego did with ease. There was no way he could do what his uncle requested; assassinating the infamous mafia lord of the Rocco empire. He stood in front of a mirror, holding the gun that Roberto had handed to him. There was no way that this soft and delicate hand could pull a trigger. Diego didn't expect that the mafia lord he was set up against was going to be a man who'll make his heart flutter. He tried to resist, bracing himself to complete his mission. But things only got heated when he found himself “entangled in the rival's hold.”

They say the perfect crime leaves no witnesses. But what happens when the victim refuses to stay dead? On the happiest day of her life, she was betrayed by the only person she trusted. He took her fortune. He erased her name. He watched her burn and toasted to her memory. He thinks he is safe. He thinks the past is buried six feet under. But what if the grave was empty? Three years later, a mysterious woman walks into his life. She is everything he desires: powerful, beautiful, and dangerous. She knows his secrets before he speaks them. She knows his weaknesses before he shows them. He is drawn to her like a moth to a flame, unaware that she is the very fire he tried to extinguish. He thinks he’s found a new partner. He has no idea he is shaking hands with his own executioner. She is standing right in front of him, wearing a stranger’s face but holding a dead woman’s grudge. How long can a murderer look into the eyes of his victim without realizing who she is? And when the mask finally slips... will he have time to scream?

She never meant to steal her sister’s life. She never meant to steal her sister’s groom. On the night before the wedding, tragedy struck. Her glamorous twin sister was left in a coma, and with her last whispered plea, she begged: “Don’t let him know. Be me… until I wake up.” Now, she stands at the altar wearing her sister’s gown, holding the hand of Adrian Cruz — the powerful young CEO every woman dreams of marrying. But Adrian doesn’t know the truth. He doesn’t know his bride has a twin. He doesn’t know the woman in his arms is someone else entirely. And yet… the more he touches her, the more obsessed he becomes. Because this “new wife” isn’t the cold, ambitious woman he courted. She’s different. Softer. Addictive. Irresistible. She swore she would protect her sister’s secret. But every night she spends in his arms pushes her deeper into forbidden desire. And when her sister wakes up… She’ll have to choose: Give him up. Or let the lie destroy them all.

After going bankrupt, I do the unthinkable for my gravely ill younger brother, Ricky Ashford, and climb into the bed of Damien Blackwood, the notorious mafia boss. When his smoldering gaze sweeps over my shirtless body, I stay perfectly still. The reason is that I'm afraid to set off this infamous man in front of me. However, the next instant, his lips are everywhere on my skin, and the night dissolves into a wild, reckless blur. For three years, I endure every torment in his bed. Thoughts of escape and even suicide cross my mind, but the fact that my brother is fighting for his life in the ICU keeps me going. One day, I accidentally overhear him speaking with his childhood friend, Chloe Sterling. "How long do you plan to toy with your enemy's daughter? You're not falling for her, are you?" "Don't be absurd." "And what about her sickly brother?" "He died long ago." The last thread holding me together snaps. Now, there is no reason left to live. As I prepare to end my life by burning charcoal, tears well up in his eyes as he pleads for me not to leave.

To prepare for a baby, my wife, Daphne Sinclair, suggested we start working out together and keep each other accountable by tracking our daily step counts. While I was away on a two-week business trip, she ranked first on our Fitbit leaderboard every single night. Then one day, my neighbor suddenly sent me a video. The location tag showed it was filmed right in the parking lot beneath my apartment. "Bro, impressive. Your wife's even hired a personal trainer for her workouts now? That Maybach suspension really hits different." In the video, a pink sports bra I had never seen before hung from the driver’s side window. The car rocked rhythmically, accompanied by Daphne's restrained yet excited breathing. I dialed her number. "Where are you?" Her voice turned soft and coy. "On the treadmill, sprinting. Honey, I'm working so hard for our baby." "Really?" I chuckled. "You've worked so hard the entire neighborhood knows about it." Holding the phone, I said slowly, word by word, "Open the door. I'm bringing you a towel."