Who Killed God

One of the best fashion designers of the industry and a billionaire's daughter Juliana Sanders is engaged to Adrian Butler who is the son of her father's millionaire friend. Juliana often gets jealous whenever she sees her fiance with his best friend Alice Rivera who is also a model and is secretly in love with Adrian Butler. Things get changed in her life when for the first time she notices a strange guy at her birthday party. Her life gets more complicated when she realizes that the strange guy named Alberto Mathews, most of the time is following her.

To say that it was a love is an understatement, Tess White was obsessed with the one who hates her guts, and was completely in love with the idea of falling in love with Callum Anderson ever since she was young. However,Callum had a highschool sweetheart and life was at bliss for him until his world collided with Tessa and the next thing he knew, he was married to the girl he hated the most.

She thought she could resist him, but the Alpha who ruined her life awakened desires she never knew existed, leaving her torn between danger and obsession.

Damian Cross had everything — a thriving company, a respected name, and a carefully built image of control. But one reckless night shattered it all. He only wanted to escape the loneliness that came with success... until he met her. She was supposed to be a stranger he’d forget by morning. Instead, she became the hatchet he couldn’t bury. Years later, fate brings her back. Damian tries to walk away, but every step pulls him closer to that night. Against logic, against reason, against the odds — he does the one thing he swore he wouldn’t. Just when everything feels perfect, a single truth cuts deeper than a blade. She disappears without a word, leaving him broken all over again. Damian swears he’s done, but destiny isn’t done with them. When he finds her again, haunted by the past, he faces one question: What if the only way to save her… is to lose himself?

Trisha is being haunted by her pasts she wanted to forget. They keep coming back and she knows she needed to face them in order to move on. But what if one of it makes her tremble with fear while the other one was with a mix of desire? Can she really escape them? What she doesn't know is that one is willing to protect her no matter what, even binding and branding her with the devil's possession to do so.

It was not until after I married Bennett that I found out he had a clingy little childhood friend who loved to play the victim. On the very first day of our marriage, at dinner, I simply asked Bennett to pass me a bite of food. She immediately exploded. "Holly, you're disgusting! Bennett already used those utensils, and you seriously asked him to serve you food? What, don't you have hands?" I froze, completely blindsided. Before I could even react, Bennett put down his spoon and went straight to her, wrapping her in his arms like she was the one who had been wronged. Then he turned to me and said I should just get my own food from now on. However, honestly, wasn't it normal for a husband to serve his wife a bite? What was so outrageous about that? I barely got a word out before Bennett shut me down in a low, firm voice. "That's final. If Rosie doesn't like it, then we're not doing it. End of discussion."

The day my mother brought her childhood sweetheart back to the villa, my father—who had already quit smoking—stood on the balcony and smoked through the entire night. Back then, his colleagues at the research institute all envied him for having a wife who was a CEO. They said he should have stayed home and enjoyed life—why work so hard outside when all he needed to do was keep a firm grip on the household finances? But my father never agreed. "Those things are all external," he would say. "As long as the feelings are still there, we'll be fine whether we're rich or poor. And if one day she no longer loves me, I'll leave with nothing and walk away alone." He never expected his words to become prophecy. My mother truly did stop loving him. Later, when she appeared before the media, arm in arm with that man, my father didn't look back. He boarded a flight overseas and disappeared from our lives. And as I stared at the photo in my social feed—my fiancée's hand entwined with someone else's—I knew it was time for me to leave too, just like my father had.

The Moon has ruled the werewolves for centuries—granting power, choosing Alphas, crowning Lunas, and demanding obedience. Nyxara was never meant to exist. Born without a howl, without a lunar mark, and without the Moon’s blessing, she should have been weak. Instead, the Moon grows dim whenever she draws near. Rituals collapse. Alphas lose control. Wolves feel hunger where faith once lived. Hidden by the Moonscar Pack and condemned by ancient law, Nyxara is whispered about as a coming disaster—until Kaelion, a Moon-bound Alpha raised to serve prophecy, crosses her path. His authority falters in her presence. His bond to the Moon fractures. And for the first time in werewolf history, the Moon does not answer its chosen Alpha. As the night sky begins to darken and packs turn on one another, forbidden truths rise from buried myths: the Moon Goddess is dying, and Nyxara is not a curse sent to destroy them. She is the vessel meant to replace her. To survive, the werewolves must choose between clinging to a fading god… or kneeling before the woman who was born to end an age.

Evan Moore is the perfect husband in everyone's eyes. He gives me a grand wedding and fully supports my career dreams. When I faced a difficult labor, he stayed by my side, kneeling for a full day and night until he nearly passed out from exhaustion. Afterward, he held me in his arms, sobbing until his eyes were red and swollen, his voice trembling with fear. "Honey, let’s not have any more kids… It's just too much." From then on, he spends his days and nights at the monastery, praying devoutly for me and our son, earning the title of the city’s most pious CEO. But one day, by pure chance, I glimpse the handwritten scriptures he keeps so carefully copied. And that's when I realize every word, every stroke, is a confession of his undying love… for his first love. All his tenderness, all his care—it was never truly for me. It was learned for her. I was nothing more than practice—a stand-in for his so-called true love.

After I landed in the hospital—again—from working myself into the ground, Jacob swore he was done playing house stockbroker. "Starting tomorrow, I'll do anything. Haul bricks, deliver pizza, whatever. I'm not letting you carry this alone." His eyes were glassy as he stormed out of the exam room like he was about to save the day or something. Then the doctor walked in and handed me a report. I was pregnant. Again. Heart racing, I chased after Jacob... and froze. He was standing outside some super VIP room. The same guys who used to bang on our door for money were suddenly all respectful. "Mr. Klein, should we block her door again tomorrow?" Jacob twirled our engagement ring around his finger. "No need. She already lost one baby paying off those debts. The test's over. Time she knew who I really am." Then my best friend—Lillian Morvain—strolled out and wrapped her arms around his waist like she belonged there. "Jacob, don't go soft. Your tests usually last at least five years. What if she's just another gold digger? Plus... I'd miss you." He hesitated. Smirked. "Fine. We'll do it your way. She's not going anywhere anyway." I stood there, clutching my stomach, sliding down the wall like the air had been punched out of me. Later, I pushed open the office door. "Dr. Spencer, I need a termination. Three days from now."