Romans & histoires Your Boyfriend Game

The day I was supposed to win the biggest award of my career, I walked in on my boyfriend, Ethan, in bed with another woman. He sneered, calling me a face-blind, scent-deaf bore in bed. I planned to expose his ass at the award ceremony. Instead, he and his lover mowed me down with their car. Next thing I knew, I woke up with them in an S-class horror survival game. Mortality rate: over 95%. We had to survive ten days in a haunted manor to be revived. Hit 100 on your Anxiety Level, and your soul is obliterated. Chloe, Ethan's lover, sneered. "Sensory defects? You can't recognize ghosts or smell danger. In a horror game, that’s a death sentence. You might as well just die." The others heard her and scrambled to team up. Me? I walked straight into the lair of the manor's final boss. The most powerful demon in the game wanted to devour my soul. I couldn't really see him. I just thought he was a cosplayer. I lunged forward, poked his abs, and pointed at the glowing crack in his chest. "Wow, you're really committed to the role. This getup must've cost a fortune."

*Warning: Story contains mature 18+ sexual scene so read at your own risk..." "See Ella, you know I am straightforward. So I am telling this directly you should please us both in the bed starting from today. In a simple sense, you have to be our mistress..." When Ella's ex boyfriends break into her apartment and forced her to be their Mistress, her life changed forever.

Melody Sullivan's ex-husband had always been a cold, distant man. By day, she worked as his secretary. By night, she was his wife. In their two years of marriage, she never received even a hint of real affection from him. The day his childhood sweetheart returned to the country, they calmly signed the divorce papers. No one expected that six months later, Melody would find out she was pregnant. She had loved him in secret for years, but now she was done. Without hesitation, she left with his kid and cut him out of her life. He made his relationship with his childhood sweetheart public? That had nothing to do with her. He proposed to her? Melody congratulated them and wished them a happy life together, But then, the man rumored to be getting married showed up outside the delivery room the very day she gave birth. He asked to get back together! Melody shook her head repeatedly. "Mr. Hunt, the baby isn't yours." Caleb Hunt looked at her, his voice firm. "Even if the kid isn't mine, I still want both of you."

My ex-husband Giacomo and my brother's widow, Zoya, are the reason I went to prison. Seven years. Gone. I crunched leaves on the way to Carlo's grave and—of course—they're there. Together. Right in front of his headstone. "Jessica?" His voice shook. Fake surprise. He wiped his eye like that meant something. "I've been looking for you for seven years. I thought you... were gone. "Where have you been all these years? Why didn't you ever contact me?" I said nothing. He kept going. "You're still mad about what happened? I had my reasons." 'Reasons?' I looked at him. Almost laughed. He and Carlo's woman killed Carlo. Framed me, kicked me out, and sent me to prison. He took half my life. And now he's talking about reasons—standing at Carlo's grave. But seven years of torment burned everything down. Love. Hate. All of it.

“What do you think you’re doing? Let me go!” I hissed in fear. Someone might see us like this. “Happily married? I don’t think so” he said instead of releasing me. His voice carried anger now. “I’m a married woman!” My voice trembled with fear and nervousness as I struggled, but it was useless. He easily caught both of my hands in one of his. “Married, yes. But not happily,” he said, not caring about my desperate pulling. “Please… let me go. Someone will see us,” I pleaded in a low, shaking voice. “You have beautiful eyes,” he said suddenly, his voice deep and strange, making my pulse quicken. Marceline never imagined she would experiment with betrayal. But after seeing her husband tangled in the arms of her closest friend, she let herself taste what it felt like to sin. What began as one night of reckless desire soon turned into many nights of fiery passion and dangerous obsession—an affair she could not escape. Yet even while indulging in forbidden pleasure, Marceline swore never to grant her husband what he wanted. Divorce. Philip would never be free. Anastasia would never have the happiness of standing by his side. If they wanted to play with her heart, she would play with their lives. In this game of marriage, passion, and betrayal...only she decides who wins.

I used to be a top ballet dancer. The year I was diagnosed with a spinal hemangioma, my boyfriend Julian Blackwood said, "Wherever you go, I go." We'd been together three years. He walked beside me as I went, step by step, from the most luminous dancer on that stage to a woman in a wheelchair. Every time the nerve pain hit and I collapsed, he was the one who lifted me off the floor. Every round of electrostim and acupuncture, he sat in the corridor outside the therapy room and waited for me to come out. Before I got sick, he promised me—the night I finished my final performance of Swan Lake, we'd sign the marriage license. He'd bought tickets for that show three months in advance. I never stood on that stage again. And the marriage license never came up. Until the morning I noticed the collar of his white dress shirt carried a smudge of lipstick that wasn't mine. I heard him on the balcony. A woman's voice on the other end. "Mr. Blackwood, you left your jacket at the hotel last night. I'll bring it over." I stared at that smear of red, and something in me snapped. I laughed. "Send me to Westbrook. The locked-down rehab facility. I don't want to drag you down anymore." Something flickered in his eyes—a brief, animal panic. Then he nodded. He thought I meant rest. He didn't know I'd already signed the papers to donate my body to science. I was going there to die.

When I was 4, I met this guy. When I was 12, were together 8 years When I was 14, I foolishly discovered that I had loved him for a long time. When I was 17, we were a couple. When I was 18, we were a long way apart. I hope it's still you in the next life. Again, when I am 18, I finally met you. In my life, I admit I will lose to your hands.

If you told me 2 months ago, that the man that murdered my parents in cold blood would buy me as his sex slave, I wouldn’t have believed you. And if you had told me that same man you be my fated soul mate, I would have punched you. But maybe this was a sign from the gods at I was meant to kill him and avenge the death of my parents. Yes. No matter the cost, I will kill my mate Alpha Jake. Cassies parents where murdered in cold blood and she is forced to live on the streets. One day she is kidnapped and sold to the same man who killed her parents. But he doesn’t recognize her. Cassie has vowed to kill him in revenge. But everything takes a wicked twist when she finds out that they are soul mates.

Having a baby will only ruin her body and her career. After Nate kept on pestering Quinn about having a baby, she couldn’t, she didn’t want to get pregnant. Adoption was never an option for her until she found her long lost friend. After so much pestering, she agreed to carry the baby for Nate. Nate, having the chance to lay with his crush, used the opportunity to get back with her. He looked for ways to make Paige stay with him for long, making Quinn angry and jealous. Will Quinn be able to hide her jealousy for long? Will Nate find out the secret Quinn is hiding from him?

On the day of my twenty-first birthday, I posted online: [I want a lollipop.] My childhood rival, who was overseas, dropped everything there and flew back. He showered and showed up at my doorstep. I vowed to savor lollipops more carefully from then on—they were simply too sweet. From that moment, even after I was exposed as a fake heiress, everyone in high society knew: Jonathan Chase wanted to marry me. When the Sterling family carried out their harsh punishment, the hundred lashes meant for me were almost entirely taken by him—ninety-nine of them, borne by his own body. When they locked me in the basement, with darkness closing in from all sides, his shouts each day became my only light. "Chloe, don't be afraid. I'll get you out," he promised. And he did. He really saved me. He also made me witness, with my own eyes, his magnificent wedding to the true heiress. The man who once couldn't bear to make me wait had, "for my sake", told me to wait three times. The first time was on his wedding day. Pain was etched into every line of his face. "Chloe, if I don't marry Eleanor, they'll never let you go. Wait for me for three years. Three years from now, I'll marry you." The second time was three years later. He looked at Eleanor's rounded belly, hesitation written all over his face. "Chloe… she's carrying my child. You'll have to wait a little longer." The third time was just yesterday. I was just a step away from his kid. He pushed me violently to the floor, his face tight with warning. "Chloe, can't you just wait? Why do you have to take it out on a kid?" Sunlight fell across the face that once loved me, now stripped of all its former warmth. "If that's how it is… then maybe it's time for me to leave too." I said inwardly.