You Should Have Never Trusted Hollywood

"Doesn't it bother you?" I blurted out right there and then, having been asking myself that question since the night we slept together. I was curious, but I'd been obviously avoiding him. "What? That you're the heir to the Siren-" "That I'm trans," I said. I could care less about what he think of me being a Sirenio by blood. "T-That I'm a trans...man," "Does it bother you that I'm bisexual?" he asked me. I hadn't expected that response. Not when I'm having mixed feelings about all of this. "Does it?" he probed, closing what's left of the space between. His scent and warmth envelopes me as I'm caged between him and the sink. I shook my head. "Use your words, Miles," he said running his finger over my bottom lip. I shuddered at the sensation it brought to my body. "You were so good with those, that night," I sucked in a sharp breath. I looked away, and his touch disappeared immediately. "It was a mistake," I whispered, my heart racing. "What...happened was a-" "I don't do mistakes, Miles," Mr Stark said guiding my eyes back to his. "You should know that by now," I let out a shaky breath when his thumb found my bottom lip again. "Does it bother you that I want to fuck you right now?"

It is the third year of my marriage when the video of my bodyguard, Julian Sutherland, holding an umbrella over me in a downpour goes viral. Overnight, the internet becomes obsessed with the "Icy Protector and his Forbidden Heiress." Netizens are relentless; they dig through the archives until they unearth a ten-year-old clip. In the video, a girl was holding a pair of high-heeled shoes while sprinting through the Folander airport. My friend teased, "No way, Ms. Serina Brown. Are you really flying back home to confess to that poor man? What could you possibly see in him?" The camera shakes, capturing my youthful face. I was just a reckless 20-year-old. "I love Julian. I love everything about him." That night, after seeing the video, Julian loses his composure and bursts into my room. "I didn't know you loved me back then. I thought… I thought… God, it was never supposed to end like this." I pull my coat around me and stand rooted on the spot, remaining silent. Suddenly, a mocking laugh echoes from behind me. Someone places their hand firmly on my waist and says, "Are you trying to reminisce about your love with my wife right in front of me? Do I look dead to you?"

My husband has azoospermia. After trying all the options available, I finally conceived. However, my husband is worried my child will hurt his first love's feelings—she had a miscarriage. He tricks me into going for a prenatal checkup. In truth, he conspires with a doctor to induce labor when I'm only five months along. He says, "You must be the one with the problem. Why else is it so hard for us to have children? The baby won't be healthy even if it's born! We can have more children when you're healthier. Julie has just had a miscarriage; I don't want to aggravate her." He doesn't know he has azoospermia. I only managed to conceive this child after trying out IVF countless times and taking countless folk remedies. He will never have a child of his own in this lifetime, and I discover his true colors. I ask for a divorce, and that's when he loses his mind.

She was the good girl, the kind who went to church, held onto hope, and believed love was patient, kind, and safe. He was the golden boy, a charming athlete with a dangerous edge and a past full of secrets. When their worlds collided, it wasn’t gentle. It was wild. All-consuming. Addictive. From the very beginning, he swept her off her feet , with compliments, promises, and intense affection. She fell hard. He changed her, slowly pulling her away from her values, her friends, and herself. But behind the sweet messages and stolen kisses was something darker: cheating, manipulation, and obsession. When she made one mistake, one moment of weakness, he unraveled. Possessive. Cold. Punishing. Their love turned into a battleground of blame, silence, and control. She finally found the strength to walk away. Two months of no contact. Healing. Distance. She went overseas to find space from the chaos. But just as she began to breathe again, he messaged her. They reunited. Briefly. Just long enough for her to realize the truth: he hadn’t changed. But she had. This is the story of a girl who lost herself in someone else’s world, and slowly, powerfully, found her way back. It’s about love bombing, heartbreak, emotional survival, and becoming your own safe place. She meets other men, learns new lessons, and begins to understand that what she really wants isn’t chaos disguised as passion… It’s peace. Wholeness. Companionship built on truth. He was never her forever. But he was the lesson she needed to meet the love she deserved.

"I hate you!" Allison spat, her teeth grinding against each other loudly in anger. "You do?" Dante asked, grinning wolfishly. His gold eyes glinted in amusement. Darting his tongue, he licked his canines as he eyed her plump parted lips. "How about we find out how much?" And before she could blink, he smashed his lips against hers. **** When the Lycan King comes to visit Allison's pack, the last thing she expected was to find out he was her mate. Heck, the last thing she wanted was a mate. With the murder of her parents on her mind and running her pack as a Beta, Allison has no need and no taste for the Lycan King nor his terrible reputation as a womanizer. How long though can she resist his charms or the pull of the mate bond? And with her parents murderers lurking in the shadows, how far will she go for her revenge?

Who said a parallel universe does not exist! He swore never to fall in love again. He's ruthless and cold. Lucas Quinn, is rich beyond anyone's wildest imagination and no one has ever been able to get close to him. All he cares about in life is perfection, which he always is looking for in novels and what not. But then an unruly, perfectly imperfect lady, Tasha Rowan, bumps into him, ruining a first edition book signed by the best-selling classic author in town. And she is the exact version of his dead girlfriend!

Everyone envied me — an orphan who'd become the Luna of the most powerful Alpha in the Southern Territory: Cain. For three years of our mating, he treated me like I was the center of his world. Then Serena — his childhood sweetheart — severed her bond with her former mate and came back to our pack. Cain started patrolling the territory every night. Coming home later and later. He didn't even ask me before moving Serena into our pack house. "Her ex-mate has been stalking her. She and I grew up together — how could I just stand by and let someone threaten her?" Serena spent every day in lingerie, draped over Cain. The two of them flipping through old photos, reminiscing about the time Cain got into a brawl because some guy had been hitting on her. I didn't say a word. I quietly tucked away the pregnancy test and brought Cain a bowl of "calming tonic." He drank it without hesitation. What he didn't know was that it was a witch's potion — one that could forcibly sever a mate bond. It would take effect on the next full moon. When it was done, I made a phone call. "Alpha Ethan, I'm ready to come to the Northern Territory. Come get me."

My daughter Stella was dying—kidneys shot, barely hanging on. She needed a transplant. Fast. But my wife, Kylie—the hospital director—stole the donor kidney meant for Stella and handed it off to her old flame's kid instead. That boy lived. They celebrated. Played happy family while my daughter was bleeding out hope. That same day, I called Kylie. Told her Stella didn't have much time. All she said was, "That ungrateful brat's faking it again? Lying? If she wants to die, let her." Stella didn't make it. Her body gave out in the worst way. And when Kylie finally saw her—really saw her—she broke.

In my previous life, my husband suffered a sudden brain hemorrhage and died instantly in his office. When I arrived at the hospital, all that awaited me was his lifeless body. Overwhelmed with grief, I coughed up blood and was bedridden ever since. On my deathbed, I happened to see a news report—my husband had won a $15 million lottery. Standing beside him at the prize ceremony was none other than my best friend. The shock killed me on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my husband had just died.

On the day of my daughter’s dance competition, a madman suddenly charged at her with an iron rod. To protect her, I took dozens of hits, and my arm was brutally broken. My husband, William Zafron, caught the madman on the spot and rushed us to his private hospital. In the hospital room, I woke up from the pain and tried to call for William. Then I overheard the doctor asking him, “Weren’t we just replacing the knee joint? Why did you hurt Ms. Nina and kill Ella?” “Nina only has a broken arm and some wounds. Her injuries aren’t fatal.” William replied, “Ella’s purpose was to be an organ carrier for Sophia’s daughter. Now that she has fulfilled her role, there’s no need for her to live. “After all... Sophia’s daughter is my own child.” That was when I realized that my daughter was just an organ carrier to him. What he did not know was that Sophia’s daughter was not even his.