Walls Berasal Dari Negara

She was afraid to fall in love. He never lowered the walls of his heart, afraid to face betrayal. Both were busy chasing away the demons of their sleepless nights not knowing when their lives entangled and they crashed into each other, seeking solace from the treacherous world. Valerie Ambrose bumped into Damon Lysander at a downtown club. Eyes met, sparks flew, heat rose, and they ended up having a one-night stand. _ "I don't have cash on me. I forgot my wallet." He slurred, his crystal blue eyes bloodshot red as he stared directly into my eyes, for a moment I thought he was sober, but then he leaned in and whispered in my ear, his breath fanning my neck. "Now are you still interested?" Although the music was blasting through the speakers, but I caught up on his hidden implication. I shook my head in exhaustion "You're drunk Damon. Come I will drop you home." "I don't want to go back there. It hurts Val." He mumbled dryly, but his moist eyes said it all, and I couldn't help but pity him. When I failed to respond he pressed his lips to the side of my neck and inhaled deeply. "Please don't leave me alone." He was barely audible and looked like a mess, a beautiful mess. "I can't bear this anymore." And with that said, he pressed his lips to mine.

I was the perfect wife. The Senator’s daughter. The woman who smiled while her world burned. For three years, I played the part. I ignored the lipstick on my husband’s collar, the late nights, and the cold indifference. I accepted the "open marriage" I never asked for, just to keep the peace. But peace is a lie. And tonight, I’m done playing by the rules. One night of rebellion at the city’s most exclusive underground club was supposed to be my escape. Instead, it was a collision course with the past. The Mercer Brothers. Silas, the ruthless king. Dante, the violent enforcer. Julian, the beautiful psychopath. They were my brother’s best friends. The men who warned me to stay away. The monsters who run this city from the shadows. Six years ago, they told me to run. Tonight, they blocked the exit. I thought the night couldn't get worse—until I went home and found out the truth. My husband didn't just cheat on me. He gambled me away. He owes the Mercers millions, and he just offered me as the collateral. Now, I belong to them. They say they want to protect me. They say they want to ruin me for anyone else. Silas commands. Dante breaks. Julian corrupts. I thought I was walking into a prison, but as the walls close in, I realize the terrifying truth: I’m not the victim in this story. I’m the weapon they’ve been waiting for.

“I won’t be one of your choices, Logan.” A hand around her neck and the other holding her chin up, he declares, “You were never an option, little mouse. It was you from the start.” ----- Hanna Going back home is like visiting a museum of shame. Worse, beyond that ugly feeling are harsh reality checks—parents don’t live forever, Evergreen is in danger, and the man who broke my heart five years ago is offering the position of Luna, co-guardian of the pack, in a silver platter. He’s desperate to tear my walls down even if it means breaking us in the process so he can rebuild us from the dust. But we can’t afford destruction when death tolls are on the rise and the dead starts walking. -- Logan When I learned that she left, I expected a swift return. But her shadow never once graced Evergreen’s borders, until now—when it’s the most dangerous. Her presence is the warmest comfort wrapped in a wall of thorns. I bleed for her with every push and pull, battering it down so I can meet the girl who fell for me at sixteen and start over. But something lurks in the shadows seeking to destroy our lands before we can even begin. As whispers of a curse dance in the hopeless silence, I find salvation in the unlikeliest of places—a journal from my ancestor, and a woman who’s been guarding secrets.

Everything had always come easy for Crystal. Her life was easy, loving parents and a brother who would stand by her through thick and thin. Unfortunately her life came crashing down when her parents died in an unfortunate car accident, following that, years later the heartless billionaire, Ryke Sterling forces her into a contract marriage. She tries to adjust to her new life as Ryke battles with his demons. She finds out a new world exists, one of sex, power, money and betrayal. Her once perfect life is completely turned upside down as it changes pattern like a kaleidoscope. Demons from Ryke's past threaten to destroy everything he had built. He struggles to overcome them while trying to keep the walls he built around himself up He watches as she tries to peel the layers off him while battling with the biggest form of betrayal from the people she loved the most. He realizes that he can't move forward if he doesn't stop running and faces his past and without it, he can't have a future to look forward to. He knows he has to make a choice, either set Crystal who could possibly be his future free or let the demons of his past consume them both. He fears he might ruin her but can you really ruin someone that already lived in ruins?

In a modern world split between werewolves and tropics, Elowen Wynter is a young lycan princess trapped between duty and danger. At 22, she was raised in a palace but treated more like a pawn. Born blonde-haired with soft grey eyes, she carries both fragility and quiet strength. Her life changes when her father sells her to Cyrus Vexley, a powerful alpha from another pack. He treats her coldly and uses her to spite her people. But fate has other plans. Dorian Thorne – the strong, silent alpha king of the SilverMoon pack – enters her life and awakens something deep inside her. He is the soulmate she didn’t know she needed. Torn between fear, hope, and a growing bond she can’t ignore, Elowen fights to find her voice. As betrayal weaves through her family’s walls, and plots swirl around her, she must confront dark truths. Meanwhile, enemies loom. Ravina Vale, jealous and cruel, wants Dorian for herself. Darrow Kaine, Elowen’s adopted brother, hungers for power. The clock ticks as Elowen’s secret pregnancy unfolds – a child she never wanted, a secret she can’t keep. She must stand up, reclaim her throne, protect her unborn child, and face the wolf within her. In the end, love, loss, and vengeance collide, and only courage will lead to peace.

I’m trouble for anyone who crosses my path. I am heartless and selfish. I don’t care about anyone or anything in this world. When you grow up in a house full of lies, distress and abuse, those walls go up high and thick. Anyone with any sense knows not to get involved with me. I hurt people and destroy their lives without a care in the world. The world has given me nothing. Why should I give it anything? I am comfortable with who I am, and if people have an issue with it, that’s their problem, not mine. Unlike others, I don’t pretend to be someone I’m not. What you see is what you get with me. When Aubrey unexpectedly enters my life, all I desire is to have her as my own. I should steer clear. She is my brother’s wife’s cousin. The fact that she is off-limits only increases my desire for her. She is sweet and nice. She has already been through a lot. It should be enough to keep me away, but it isn’t. I will do whatever it takes. Aubrey will be mine, even if just for one night, regardless of what I have to do. Nothing and no one can stand in my way. I thought I would ruin her life, but she ended up changing mine. Cover by Covers By Sophie Update Schedule: Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew builds the *Staircase With No Wrong Turns*, inviting people to walk through emotions without shame. Franc offers brushstrokes as brave work, and Yam curates writing circles that map healing in half sentences. Together, they host festivals that feel like hugs, and they begin traveling their archive, letting softness cross oceans. Even those who once left—like Miguel—return, discovering that some doors never truly close. Others, like Tala, capture the studio’s sound and turn it into a podcast of breath and becoming. Over seventy chapters, the studio transforms into something larger than itself: a mural of memory, a sanctuary for second chances, a place where return is sacred and voice is proof of survival. In the final bloom, the studio stands not as a monument—but as a reminder: > *“Staying isn’t easy. > But chosen together, > it becomes home.”*

Grace Summers had always been the ‘Mrs. Goody Two Shoes’ always doing what’s right or what’s expected of her by her family and high maintenance friends. She’s now 21 and had just graduated yet another special school her father had sent her to, she’s fed up with her ‘angel’ persona. She hops on a bus, rides to the furthest stop available and lands a job at the most popular place in the city of Bakersfield, California: Dale’s Ladies, a gentlemen's club, or at least that’s just the front it uses, people from all over come to use this club for their addictions or to take care of unfinished business. You can do anything in this club: murder, sex, drugs, you name it you can do it. With only one rule, you have to do it within the walls of the club. Jett Lynch is the oldest of the twins, his younger twin Dale Lynch, owns a club and helps bring in some heavy cash from the ladies he has, the drugs he sells and the gruesome murders that he’s allowed to happen and not say a word about to ANYONE. Jett is popular in a bad way with the media, and the police; he’s the head of the mafia in the city of Bakersfield. He does things to people the police won’t when it’s deserved. What happens when someone who wants to overthrow Jett, gets wind of his new prize? Will Grace be caught in the crossfire or will she be taking the heat of it?

My husband's first love had been trapped in a car for an hour. After they pulled her out, his rage shifted onto me. “It’s your fault she got hurt,” he spat, his eyes blazing as he grabbed me. Before I could make sense of what was happening, he forced me into a wooden box, slamming the lid down with a deafening crack. “You’re going to feel every ounce of the pain she went through,” he hissed, nailing it shut. I pounded on the walls, my screams tearing through the air. “Please, I didn’t do anything! Let me out!” My throat burned with the effort, my fists aching, but nothing stopped him. “Stay in there until you’ve figured out how to act like a decent human being,” he said, his voice cold, dripping with contempt. Hours passed. My body twisted unnaturally in the tight space, bones throbbing as blood smeared the wood beneath me. I whispered into the dark, the pain unbearable. "Please… just let me out…" But he didn’t care. A week later, he returned, his laughter echoing with hers as they entered the house, carefree from their trip. He finally opened the box. But by then, I was already gone. The woman he locked away was no longer breathing, no longer pleading. Just a cold, silent corpse.

The air in the penthouse was thick with unspoken words and the lingering heat of a shared victory. He stood before her, the ice in his gaze finally melted, revealing a raw vulnerability that stole the breath from her lungs. “This wasn’t part of the contract,” he murmured, his voice a rough caress as his thumb traced the line of her jaw. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird against the gilded cage of their agreement. “I know.” His fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck, tilting her face up to his. The world narrowed to the space between them, to the shocking warmth of his skin against hers. “Then tell me to stop, Ivy. Give me the rules. Give me the clause.” She should. Every instinct for self-preservation screamed at her to rebuild the walls, to remember he was her enemy, her jailer, her temporary husband. But as she looked into the stormy grey depths of his eyes, she saw not the ruthless CEO, but the man who had just looked at her daughter as if she were the most precious thing in the world. So, she didn’t speak. Instead, she rose onto her toes, closing the distance, her lips a breath away from his in a silent, devastating answer. The first kiss was not a conquest, but a surrender. It was not about revenge or contracts. It was a question, and in the shuddering breath he released against her mouth, she found her answer. The cold, platinum wedding band finally felt warm against her skin.