When The Door Is Not A Door

Mom and Dad keep claiming that I'm their firstborn, so they need to love me with all their hearts. Already, they're saving up for my college funds and keep taking me on vacations abroad just to explore the world. This time, I've gotten a full score on my exams. My parents decide to take me and my four-year-old sister, Amelia Orson, on a trip. Worried that I might mind Amelia's presence, they even specifically explain to me that no one is capable of taking care of Amelia in their stead, so she has to come along. I accept the explanation immediately. But Amelia falls sick right before the trip. There isn't any cough syrup left at home, so I use my pocket money to buy some imported cough syrup and feed Amelia with it. I thought I'd get praised for my efforts. Instead, Mom rushes over to induce vomiting for Amelia. With red-rimmed eyes, she scolds me, "How dare you feed her medicine without checking the source! Do you have any idea how lethal that is? When I was young, I almost died from a dose of misused medication fed by my own sister! How dare you try to harm Amelia, you wretched child!" After that, Mom tells Dad to bring out his suitcase so that she can lock me up in it. "You want to go on a trip because you've scored full marks in your exams, right? Fine! Have all the fun you want in the suitcase!" What they've forgotten is the fact that Dad often uses this suitcase on his business trips, so there's a TSA-approved lock on it. I can't even open the suitcase from inside.

Joseph Larkin, my husband, who has been missing for seven years, suddenly comes back. Not only does he bring another woman back, but he is also asking me for a divorce. Joseph says, "Mabel risked her life to save me. That's why I have to marry her to repay her. If you know what's good for you, you'll tell everyone we're already divorced." Looking at his haughty expression, I calmly say, "But I've already married someone else." Joseph laughs disdainfully. "Who are you trying to fool? Everyone knows you only have eyes for me."

The Clan Healer told me that without the vial of Progenitor's Blood, the Blood Blight afflicting me meant I had only seventy-two hours to live. But my husband, Miles, the new Duke of our world, gave the only vial of the precious cure to my adopted sister, Vivienne, the woman I had turned three years ago. "She's in agony from the rejection, Isolde. It's a pain you can't possibly understand." His tone was self-righteous, devoid of any concern for the patch of skin on my collarbone already turning to stone. I nodded, watching as the life-saving, dark red liquid slid down another woman's throat. I accomplished a great deal in the time I had left. As I signed the documents, the lawyer's hand trembled. "Are you certain you want to transfer everything, Your Grace? The territorial rights of a thousand-year-old clan..." I didn't hesitate. "Yes. To Vivienne." My adopted daughter, Lily, the girl I had risked everything to save, who was now forever frozen at the age of eight, cowered in Vivienne's arms, pointing at me and screaming, "Aunt Vivienne is my real mommy! You're the witch who turned us into monsters!" I offered no defense. "Yes, that's right. Be a good girl and listen to your new mother now." The Progenitor's Ring, the symbol of the clan's supreme authority, now rested on Vivienne's hand. "Oh, sister, you're too kind," she sobbed, her sobs a practiced performance. "I'll be sure to protect the family in your stead." I nodded. "You'll run things better than I ever did." I even signed away my control over the Elder Council, a council sustained by my own blood. For the first time in a century, a shadow of complex emotion crossed Miles's face. He stared at me,"Isolde, stop fighting. It's better this way. You need to rest." Yes. On my deathbed, I had finally become the perfect, submissive Isolde they always wanted. An Isolde who was about to turn to dust. The seventy-two-hour countdown had begun. I wondered, when I finally turned to ash,

My mother said I was a born beauty and was able to charm any man. She told me not to touch a man before my twentieth birthday. In the previous timeline, I listened to her, so when a wealthy heir was dosed with an aphrodisiac, I pushed him away when he tried to take me into his embrace. But the effects of the skincare routine I did transferred to my mother after my twentieth birthday. I used face masks, but my face became wrinkled and spotted. Meanwhile, my mother glowed with smooth and youthful skin. I danced, but I only became fatter while my mother became slim. Seeing how I looked like a fifty-year-old woman, my father called me a useless piece of trash and wanted to marry me off to a bald man as his second wife. I cried and begged my mother for help. But she said this was for my own good, her twenty-something face a mask of hypocrisy. I was forced to run away from home, but doing so only sped up my aging. Three days later, I died on the streets right by a trash heap. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in time to the night I met that rich heir. This time, I did not push him away but straddled him in bed.

When the college admission notice arrived, I suddenly developed a high fever and was bedridden. My sister encountered a kidnapping on her way to help me collect the notice, and her life was uncertain. My parents hated me deeply. After tearing up my admission notice, they forced me to give up my studies and work in a factory. Later, I experienced a kidnapping as well. After narrowly escaping, I hid in an abandoned factory and sent them a message for help. My dad called me and shouted at me without restraint, “Lena, are you even human? How could you play such a joke on us on Jessica's memorial day!” “Do you have any idea how much your mom and I wished it had been you who died back then?” In my last moments before death, their insults echoed in my ears. I was tortured and killed, turned into a monster, and my body was thrown into a stinking ditch for three full days. Even my father, the most experienced forensic expert, couldn’t recognize me. When my sister returned home with the guy she eloped with years ago, my dad had just restored my appearance through technology. They knelt before my decaying corpse and cried until they fainted.

Language used: ENGLISH • • • • Don't Let Go Trilogy #1 • • • • When I was just 5 years old, I used to love grandma's stories. Like, having an arranged marriage and being in love. It was magical but now that I really think about it, it's a bit silly. Why? It's simple. Less freedom. Girlfriends. Boyfriends. Sleep-overs. Parties. Journeys. You can't possibly do all of those things when your hands are tied. Besides, what if you don't love that person? And that you'll never, ever, learn to love that person? Can't you choose the person that your heart wants instead? Seriously, love is complicated. • • • • • Kira Castelle is an amiable, easy-to-talk-to, and a laid-back 17 year old lady that has sworn to put love aside and continue reaching for her dreams. Not until a perfect storm happened. When females turn 18 and males turn 21, they are assigned a marriage partner by the government. With this, they just have to wait for the country to find their compatible partner and become happy. When Kira Castelle finally turned 18, she has to meet her partner. Neal Valastro. A drop-dead gorgeous man of stone. He's the epitome of perfection and Kira's polar opposite. The problem is, will this work out just fine for Kira? Will she ever be Ready? or Not? • • • • •

One week before our wedding, my fiancee told me she wanted to have a baby with her childhood best friend. When I said no, she looked at me as if I were the unreasonable one. "It's just IVF," my fiancee said. "Nothing is going to happen between Logan and me. His parents have been pressuring him to get married so badly that he almost died in a car accident. Now they have finally agreed to back off as long as he has a child. We should help him." I stared at her, my face drained of color. "We're getting married in a week, and you want to have another man's baby? Do you honestly think that's fair to me?" Her expression softened, and she reached for my hand as if she were soothing a child. "Daniel," she said gently, "after we're married, we'll have children of our own too." In that moment, whatever love I had left for her died completely. She was right about one thing: I would have children of my own someday, but not with her. I turned around, opened my phone, and posted a status for everyone to see, 'I'm getting married in one week, but I'm missing a bride. Anyone interested?'

When I was young, I saved a fae—charming and extremely handsome. In return, he offered me one wish, and I, lost in romantic fantasies, asked for the strongest wolves to be obsessed with me. It sounded dreamy—until it wasn’t. Obsession, I learned, is a storm disguised as a dream. First up, my stepbrother—his obsession turned him into a tormentor. Life became unbearable, and I had to escape before a mating ceremony that felt more like a nightmare than a love story. But freedom was short-lived. The next wolf found me, nearly made me his dinner, and kidnapped me away to his kingdom, proclaiming I would be his Luna. He wasn’t as terrifying, but when he announced our wedding plans (against my will, obviously), his best friend appeared as competitor number three. “Great! Just what I needed,” I thought. This third wolf was sweet, gentle, and truly cared—but, alas, he wasn’t my type. Desperate, I tracked down the fae. “Please, undo my wish! I want out of this romantic disaster!” My heart raced; I really needed him to understand me. He just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, you’re on your own. But I can help you pick the best one out of them!” How do I fix this mess? Facing three intense wolves: “Marry me, I’ll kill anyone who bothers you!” the first declared fiercely. “No, marry me! I’ll make you the happiest ever,” the second pleaded. “I’ll destroy every kingdom you walk into. You’re mine!” the third growled, eyes blazed. “Seriously, what have I gotten myself into?” A long sigh escaped my lips. Caught between a curse and a hard place, I really just wanted peace and quiet…but which one do I choose?

I was a violin prodigy. But to pay my mother’s debts, I was forced to give up everything. That’s when I met the man who would own me: Dante Moretti. He was the king of New York's underworld. The Don of the Moretti family. With a single phone call, fortunes were made. With a single glance, blood was spilled. The world didn't just bend to his will—it broke. And on that day… what he wanted was me. He gave me a five-year contract. A penthouse in a skyscraper overlooking all of New York. More jewels and gowns than I could count. Every night he needed me, I’d put on whatever lacy thing he picked out. We’d have sex. Five years. 999 times. There were moments—his sweat dripping on my forehead, his soft breaths inside me, the way he’d look at me—when I let myself dream he loved me. Then the video dropped. Him. On the street. Kissing another woman. I knew the truth. He was my keeper, not my lover. Everyone laughed. They couldn't wait to see me lose my mind, begging him to keep me. Instead, I turned my back on him. And married another man.

After the death of the Alpha couple, Olivia had to face the ruthless truth about her upbringing. With nothing left to hold her down, she ran to escape the memories that weren't hers. But this time, she didn't run with nothing; she ran with his mark burning as deep as her soul. *** The crowd of wolves gasped in horror. Some screamed, and many women burst into tears while their Alpha licked the blood from Olivia's skin. Olivia shivered when his disgusting lips left her neck. Noah's hand ran through her hair, grabbing a fistful of her snow-white curls; he pulled her against his body and whispered, "Good luck avoiding me now, rogue." ***