7690 Book(s) Related to novoland: the castle in the sky

My wife is the city's renowned "Community Angel." She donates every single cent of her high salary to the poor, all to buy herself a saintly reputation.
Meanwhile, as her husband, I spend my days rolling beneath cars in a factory, covered in grease, juggling four credit cards just to keep our large family afloat.
My parents-in-law survive on the expensive, imported life-saving meds I pay for, yet they constantly mock me for being a powerless nobody;
My own children attend private schools on my dime, only to look at me with disgust and call me an embarrassment;
And my wife? Dressed in her high-end couture, she looks down at me and condescendingly urges, "For the sake of the poor children, why don't you get another part-time job and just endure it a little longer?"
Looking at this den of parasites sucking the life out of me, a sudden, overwhelming wave of disgust washed over me.
I didn't argue. I silently put away my overdue bills, packed my bags, and completely vanished from this twisted household.
Later, at the highly anticipated Annual Charity Gala, in front of the entire city, I presented her with an ultimate "gift"—

"Daddy... so cold... and it hurts..." When my precious daughter Mia whispered these words in her weak voice, my heart felt like it was being torn apart.
The life-saving medicine was just ten meters away, but that damned anti-magic barrier had become an insurmountable chasm between life and death.
What made me even more furious was that the vampire guarding the gate not only extorted my life savings, but also demanded I kneel like a dog and lick his boots before he would open the door.
He didn't know that if the door stayed closed, it wouldn't just be my daughter who died—his son and mother would perish too!

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé.
Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now—billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn’t mind. I’d crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one?
Wrong.
One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That’s when it hit me—he didn’t love me. He didn’t even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn’t even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup.
So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster—my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise.
Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol.
Enter him.
Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I’d met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes.
It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised.
But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life.
And, as it turned out, the best decision I’d ever made.
Because my one-night stand isn’t just some random guy. He’s richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with.
And now, he’s not letting me go.

"Oh, it's you. My useless wife."
"You should've seen it coming. Our marriage stopped working a long time ago."
"You're useless as a wife, Ivy. You've never supported my career. And after all this time—you're still not even pregnant."
Kim Evelyn—known to those closest to her as Ivy—never imagined her third wedding anniversary would turn into a nightmare. Her husband, Rico, didn't just betray her—he brought his mistress into their bed. The pain and humiliation scorched her heart, leaving her no choice but to walk away from the home that once symbolized their love.
But Ivy's escape led her into a night that would change everything. Beneath the glimmering lights of an upscale bar, she met Joshua Miller—a dangerously charming man with a captivating smile and an offer too tempting to resist.
"Help me get revenge on the man who betrayed me—my husband. Can you do that?"
"I'll help you get your revenge—but in return, you'll have to treat me the same way you did last night."
Revenge. Sweet, calculated revenge.
But there was a catch: Ivy had to surrender herself to a game far more seductive than anything she'd ever imagined. As vengeance ignited and passion flared, the line between game and reality began to blur. Dark secrets loomed. Hidden dangers stirred. And Ivy was forced to make an impossible choice—move forward and risk losing everything, or retreat into the scars of her past.
Can Ivy take control of this wicked game? Or will she end up the pawn—consumed by desire, ambition, and a betrayal more dangerous than the one she fled?

A fire broke out at the fraternity party. I desperately pushed Mia, my brother's girlfriend, out of harm's way, only to get pinned down by a falling beam myself. My brother Liam chose to save Mia first, kicking away my oxygen mask as he left. Mia then locked the door, leaving me to burn alive.

Yet they thought I was throwing a tantrum and playing hide-and-seek. They called me "toxic" and "attention-seeking" on social media, even freezing my credit cards.

My daughter has passed away, and my ex-husband abandoned us.

In my darkest hour, my first love, Lysander, reappeared; he covered the medical expenses, married me, and provided me with a home.

For five years, I believed I was the luckiest woman in the world.

Until that fateful day, four months into my pregnancy, when I overheard his conversation with a friend—

“To save Celeste, I thought... who knew it would lead to the death of Seraphina’s daughter?”

“As for Seraphina, she is a good wife, but alas... I do not love her.”

It turned out that my daughter’s death was no accident.

It was revealed that these five years of marriage were merely his quest for atonement.

The one he had always truly loved was Celeste—my ex-husband’s current wife.

As I lay on the operating table, I made a decision—

Since he had taken my daughter’s kidney, I would seize everything from him.

Including what he believed he would never lose: me.

I couldn't remember how I got to this forest. Why am I here? What did I do?
A child alone in the middle of the woods, unaware of what's happened.
"Where am I?" the she asks herself.
Looking around and there's a beautiful waterfall not far from where the girl was sitting, but there in the treeline large wolves run up to her and circle her. At first they don't know what to make of the girl, especially a random one in the middle of the woods. She remained sitting there looking at them while they suddenly run back into the forest, but than people walk back out.
"Who are you?" the male asks. The other wolves whisper, "She smells funny." "Where did she come from?" "She looks funny..."
The female walked up to her and knealed down to look her over. She froze for a moment before saying, "Honey she's freezing, but she doesn't seem to be injured. How did you come to be here child?"
"I don't know. I have no memory," the girl said looking down whimpering.

The Mystic Lunar Pack is the largest and oldest pack remaining in The American West. It is said they come from the Original Alpha's, the very first werewolves to be created. Each wolf had a good and a bad side and which ever one you nurture is the one to come out strongest.
These werewolves are a strong pack, but there is someone lurking in the shadows ready to take down the pack to destroy just one woman.
What is she? Human or werewolf? Why was she left with no one to care for her?
Maybe a certain Alpha will help with that and feel something after waiting so long for what is his...... to find out she's a Goddess.

In my last life, a friend I’d trusted for ten years drove a knife into my heart over a single biscuit. When I opened my eyes again, we had both been reborn—right before the extreme freeze arrived.

He was convinced the apocalypse had come. He borrowed from loan sharks, rented a massive warehouse to hoard supplies, and even crowned himself king during the icebound period, killing without mercy.

But he didn’t know the truth:

This disaster would end completely after only thirty days.

While he taunted me like a madman, I didn’t expose him. I calmly requested thirty days of paid leave from my company.

This time, I’ll sit in a warm, climate-controlled room and watch—when the state machine restarts on day thirty—how he drops to his knees and sobs in despair.

Six months ago, a yacht explosion consumed everyone I loved: my husband Leonard, my parents, and my brother.
I escaped only because of stomach pain that kept me from boarding. My adopted sister Claire became the sole survivor.
Since then, I've become an empty shell.
Even after being diagnosed with terminal uterine cancer, even while carrying my late husband's child, I've endured the agony of chemotherapy alone, exhausting what little strength remains to scrape together money for Claire—who hides away in a private care facility, claiming severe PTSD.
Until this winter day, with a blizzard approaching.
Dragging my dying body to my husband's memorial to pay respects, I discovered a credit card statement—charges made three months after his death.
Following the address on that receipt, I pushed open the door of a luxurious suburban villa.
Inside, it was warm as spring. My parents and brother, who should have been at the bottom of the ocean, stood there perfectly alive.
At the center of the room, my husband—the man I'd grieved for day and night—was kissing my adopted sister, his lips tender against hers.
The whole family was celebrating, raising glasses to toast the infant cradled in Claire's arms—barely a month old.
There had never been any disaster at sea.
It was all a meticulously planned hoax—their twisted way to erase me from their lives forever.

I burn through eighty years of my life raising three dogs that turn around and tear into me.

My vampire husband, Damian, used to be an outcast covered in festering sores, cursed to fear the sun. I cut my wrist and gave up thirty years of my life so he could become the most powerful man among the bloodlines, in control of half the world's wealth. Cold and ruthless to everyone else, he only ever bares his fangs for me.

Knox, the werewolf boy I grew up with, was born with a genetic flaw that kept him from ever shifting. I gave up another twenty years so he could have the strongest bloodline of all. Wild and reckless, he used to swear he'd carry me on his back for the rest of his life.

Julian, my human brother, got burned beyond recognition saving me from a fire. I spent my last thirty years giving him back a face people would pay a fortune for. He used to send crates of his paintings to my room, the kind of work people would kill to own.

Then a woman named Daphne shows up, and all three of them lose their minds over her.

And somehow I become the jealous, vicious wife everyone wants gone.

She cries that I pushed her, so they drive blades of blood straight through my bones.

She says I'm cruel to the staff, so they break my legs in front of a crowd.

And when I'm dying, they drain my blood to keep her alive.

If you're all going to treat the life I gave you like trash, then I'm taking it back. The strength, the face, the life. All of it.

[God, I take it back. I want everything I gave them returned to me.]

I spent five years letting men degrade me at a club, all to save $300,000 for my blind brother Joren's eye surgery.
The day I finally raised the money, I excitedly told him he would be able to see again—only to discover he was never blind to begin with.
My husband’s "bankrupt" company had been thriving all along. My parents, who supposedly died in a plane crash, had been living luxuriously abroad.
My husband even took my "stillborn" daughter and gave her to my adopted sister.
My entire family conned me for five years to "teach me a lesson"—all because my adopted sister claimed I bullied her.
Now, they are forcing me to donate my liver to the woman who stole my life, threatening that I'll never see my biological daughter again if I refuse.
But what they don't know is that I have terminal liver cancer, and I only have two days left to live...

I was driving my dad's luxury car to pick up a friend when his secretary stopped me on the spot.
She mistook me for the lover who had sex with my dad in his office.
So she used car theft as an excuse to drag me into the basement, beat me up, and took nude photos of me.
When my dad found out, he asked me to apologize to her.
That's when I realized that in his eyes, his reputation mattered more than his own daughter.
If that's the case, he doesn't need to be the figurehead CEO anymore.

"You were meant to be my death. Instead, you've become my damnation."
Aria Thornwell has spent three years as a healer in her town, attempting to forget the night her former fiancé publically humiliated her by selecting her affluent stepsister instead—taking Aria's family fortune with him. Now, she lives quietly, utilizing her skill to aid the underprivileged while her stepfamily flaunts their stolen fortune.

But on the winter solstice, everything changes. She's chosen as the ceremonial bride for the vampires' holy Winter Feast—a "honor" that guarantees death at daybreak following the Christmas Eve rite. Dragged to the Crimson Vale with five other human tributes, Aria is prepared to meet her fate with dignity.

Until she meets him.

Lord Sebastian Thorne, the ancient vampire who has presided over the Winter Feast for eight centuries, is meant to drain her at dawn following the binding ritual. It's tradition. It's law. It's survival—the ceremonial blood maintains the vampire realm for another year.

But as Sebastian's lips brush her throat in the ceremonial hall, something unbelievable happens. Her blood doesn't simply sustain him—it wakes something in him that's been dead for generations. And in a move that shocks the whole vampire court, he refuses to complete the rite.
"This one is mine," he proclaims, his old strength sweeping the hall. "Anyone who touches her answers to me."

Trapped in the Obsidian Palace as Sebastian's "protected bride," Aria discovers three frightening truths: Sebastian isn't protecting her out of mercy—he's dying from an ancient curse, and her blood is the only thing keeping him alive past Christmas; the vampire court will do anything to kill her and reinstate the ritual; and her "ordinary" healer's gift is actually a rare and dangerous power that vampire nobility has been hunting for generations.

For seven years, Rose Bennett was Ryan Knight’s secret wife.
While all of New York believed Samantha Hikk would become Mrs. Knight, Rose silently endured a cold marriage to a man who never loved her.
Until one night, Samantha is rushed into Rose’s emergency room pregnant… and Ryan is the one protecting her.
That is the night Rose stops loving him.
What Ryan never knew was that Rose had already given birth to his daughter years ago after he rejected both mother and child without hesitation.
So Rose walks away—with only two suitcases, a hidden daughter, and the shattered remains of seven years.
But the woman Ryan abandoned is no ordinary wife.
Rose is the hidden genius behind Aetheris Medical AI, the revolutionary system about to change the entire medical world.
As Rose rises to the top, becoming untouchable, powerful, and impossible to replace, Ryan finally realizes the devastating truth—
He didn’t lose a woman who loved him.
He lost the only woman he would ever love.
And by then, even their daughter no longer calls him father.

In the sixth year of my life as a Scale-Stripper, I finally gathered the hundredth vial of Dragon Breath Essence.

I knelt before the altar, cradling the crystal bottle in both hands. The golden light swirling within it cast a warm glow across my scarred knuckles. Six years — six years of wandering the most dangerous battlefields of the Five Clans and the plague-ridden wastelands, using dragon breath to heal the wounded. For every person I saved, I had peeled away a living scale from my own flesh, baring the raw, bleeding meat beneath.

Seven scales left on my back.

Only seven.

But as long as it saved my brother Lucien, it was worth it.

Six years ago, during the Dragon Slaughter War, our parents had been assassinated by humans. An ancient curse had struck Lucien; his scales were crumbling away, day by day. He told me that only a hundred vials of Dragon Breath Essence could break the curse.

I held the crystal bottle out to him, my voice trembling with barely contained emotion. "Lucien, a hundred vials. We finally have enough."

Lucien took the bottle and glanced at it.

Then he tossed it off the altar without a second thought.

I went rigid.

Lucien stood at the top of the altar.

"I was never cursed," he said.

My hands were still cupped in the shape of holding the bottle, all ten fingers suspended in midair.

"Our parents never died, either."

"The Dragon Slaughter War six years ago, I planned it. The only one left crippled, with broken wings, was you."

Every night when my daughter comes home, she looks different.
On the first night, a little of her hair was gone.
On the second night, she was missing one hand.
On the third night, half of her body had vanished.
I jolted awake in a sudden start, thankful it had only been a nightmare.
Right then, my daughter came back home.
A patch of her hair was missing.

I am originally of royal vampire bloodline.
But because of one sentence from my adoptive father, I hid in the human world for decades.
The Church called me a "filthy heretic" because vampire blood flowed in my veins.
Yet they burned a blind girl to death, her crime being that she "couldn't see."
They burned an old blacksmith to death, his crime being that he wanted to learn medicine.
They burned a young mother to death, her crime being that she refused to be violated by the captain of the holy knights.
Bathed in holy light, I realized for the first time—
The demons... are in the light.

Four months pregnant, I walked into the OB-GYN clinic filled with joy—this was the child Archer and I had waited three years for.
But the moment the ultrasound report was handed to him, his gentle gray eyes twisted violently.
"Abort it. We absolutely cannot keep this child."
My stepfather watched coldly. The stepbrother who doted on me most slapped me hard across the face. My own mother wielded the scalpel and removed my uterus.
Half a month later, they picked me up from the hospital with roses, only to turn around and lock me away, feeding me psychiatric drugs until I died.
Reborn, I thought that as long as I hid the report, I could save my baby.
But they forced me onto the operating table once again.
It wasn't until I saw the report with my own eyes—
That I finally understood why my child had to die.

I've been married to billionaire Joseph Miller for three years. Pregnant three times. Aborted three times.

Every time, my husband stood outside the operating room, watching them wheel me in.

The first baby, my mother-in-law Victoria said had spinal deformities. The second, my father-in-law Richard showed a "report" claiming heart defects.

I believed them. I thought it was my fault, something wrong with my body.

Until the third pregnancy.

This time I secretly went to another hospital—DNA showed 99.9% match with Joseph, every prenatal indicator perfect.

I rushed home clutching the report, thinking I could finally save my child.

Victoria glanced at it and tossed it on the coffee table. "You are carrying a healthy baby. But the Miller family doesn't need it."

My in-laws forcibly dragged me to the clinic. I screamed to Joseph for help: "That's your child!"

His eyes were red, but he still let them kill my baby.

Desperate, I demanded a divorce. He coldly refused, tearing at my clothes: "Stop being dramatic. Time for the fourth."

I finally understood—I wasn't his wife. I was their breeding machine.

But why? Why force me to keep getting pregnant, only to kill every healthy baby?

Until that night, I pushed open the attic door that had been locked for three years—

And finally understood everything.

18th birthdays are always a milestone, but I didn’t expect mine to be THIS big of a milestone. Finding out my life isn’t what I thought it was, my parents aren’t who I thought they were, and my whole life got turned upside down. I have more family than I ever knew about, or honestly, I knew about but had my memories of them taken. Everything is about to change as my life fills with people and things I thought only existed in books and movies. Here’s to 18. It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.

I find myself making a hard decision one that I never thought to have to make. I look over at my two sons beaten and broken, pleading to take my punishment. I smile saying, "It's OK boys. Don't be sad for me, know that I will always know how you are doing." Naikono screamed and cried while Kino's silent tears pleading. "I love you, keep each other safe. I will see you again in this body or another I will find you," I said to them as they were dragged off. I was left with the Fates of Time who were my Judges, Juries, and Executioners. I fucked up bad and got caught doing it too. One of the sad things is I don't even remember what I did. The Fates took my memories of the crime to ensure that the atrocities committed would never happen again. I sit there looking at them waiting for my sentencing. "For your crimes you sill spend 2500 yrs in oblivion after which you will spend the next millennia being reborn to unfortunate souls who are not destine to live. Finally you will be given the chance to live a peaceful life that is if you can keep yourself safe," the fate of the future said."I will take your punishment on one condition, that if outside forces beyond what is meant for the time of which I am in interfere with me or my children, should I have them, I can revert to my original self without repercussions to me or my children.” The fates stepped aside to consider this. They knew who I was and what I was capable of so ignoring my offer wouldn't work out for them. Stepping forward they said, " We accept your condition". Than my world went dark.

They gave him 24 hours to hand over the girl.
He gave them 30 seconds to regret .

Jack Cole was supposed to be nobody—just another quiet college student.
No records. No past. No trace he ever existed.

But when a powerful family tries to take his cousin as part of a dirty deal…
and a billionaire heiress becomes the target of a professional kill team…

Something buried comes back.

The campus?
Just his cover.

The truth?
He’s a weapon trained for war—
the kind governments deny, and enemies never see coming.

Now the richest family in the city wants him dead.
A private army is moving in.
And a global biotech empire is pulling strings from the shadows.

They think they’re hunting him.

They’re wrong.

Jack isn’t running.
He’s choosing who dies first.

At the Morello family’s Christmas dinner, I stood beside Vincent, waiting for him to announce our engagement.
Instead, in the very next second, he walked in holding a little boy and claimed him as his son.
And the woman he said he was going to marry? Scarlett Morello. The one he had always introduced as his “sister.”
The whole room erupted in applause. I stood there frozen, like a nail hammered into the floor.
Later, in his study, he took my hand and said, “Scarlett is dying. Late-stage breast cancer. She only has six months left. After she’s gone, I’ll marry you.”
But there was no guilt in his eyes. No love, either.
Then he told me to go to his villa that afternoon, to take care of the woman who was supposedly “dying.”
I opened the photo he sent me. Scarlett was lying in a hospital bed, pale-faced, an IV in the back of her hand.
A professional tennis player who had been playing in an exhibition match three weeks ago, and who had dropped three grand at Louis Vuitton on Fifth Avenue just five days ago.
But sure. She was “dying.”
At three in the morning, I was curled up by the front door of my apartment, crying so long I lost track of time.
Then my phone lit up. A text from an unknown number:
[Elena, I’m downstairs. When we were kids, you told me that once I controlled the docks on the East Coast, you’d marry me. The docks are mine now. Does that promise still stand?]
I pulled back the curtain and there he was. Ethan Vitale, my first love, leaning against the door of a black Cadillac, lifting a hand in a lazy wave.
Three years ago, when he left New York, he was only a Capo.
Now, he was the Don of the Vitale family.
He didn’t rush me. Didn’t pressure me to come downstairs.
He came for one reason only, to let me know he was back.
I wiped away my tears and texted back:
[It still stands.]
Because I wanted to see for myself just how long that woman could keep up her act.

The Percy Family Heir's Scandal Leaks Again!

Cecilia Davis sat curled up in the master bedroom, scrolling through photos of Edward Percy and Jessica Brown.

The photos were taken secretly, but from a sharp angle.

Through a car window — the two of them, going at it hard.

Cecilia let out a cold laugh, tossed the photos into the trash, and felt a wave of deep exhaustion wash over her eyes.

"Do I really have to cut it?"

"Ma'am, this is Mr. Percy's request. Only if you cut your hair as short as Ms. Brown's can we clear up last night's rumors. Of course, you don't have to go — that is, if you never want to see your brother again."

Edward's assistant Leo spoke with a dismissive air, not a trace of respect in his eyes.

As if she, the so-called Mrs. Percy, was nothing more than a joke that nobody needed.

And honestly, that's exactly what she was.

Lydia's POV

"The patient in Bed 7 has been here three months now, right? Not a single family visit."

"Her husband just pays the bills and leaves. Doesn't even look at her. Poor thing."

I lay in the hospital bed, listening to two nurses whispering outside my door. My fingers rested weakly against the edge of the mattress.

Three months ago, I was diagnosed with late-stage cancer.

My husband, Sebastian Carter, came once. He stood in the doorway—didn't step inside—signed the papers with a blank expression, and never came back.

Sebastian was a writer. He locked himself in his study all day, leaving me to spend night after night alone in the living room. We lived under the same roof like strangers from different worlds.

I'd grown used to this hollow marriage. I didn't even bother calling him anymore.

Footsteps echoed outside.

I turned my head toward the door. Sebastian stood there in his familiar charcoal coat, his face expressionless.

"You came." I was surprised. I forced myself to sit up, my body weak and trembling.

Sebastian didn't answer. He walked straight to the bedside and set a document on the nightstand. "Sign it."

I picked it up. The words at the top read: 'Divorce Agreement.'

On a stormy night, a horrific crash unfolded on the overpass. The victim was brought to the city forensic center.
My husband, Ethan, slipped on his gloves and expertly examined my shattered body, his voice detached. "Record this: Female, approximately twenty-five years old, suffered severe trauma before death."
His assistant sighed. "That's rough. Not a single family member showed up."
Just then, the assistant slid a misshapen silver band off my mud-streaked finger.
"Sir, this ring... isn't it identical to the one you keep in your desk drawer?"
With a sharp clatter, the scalpel slipped from Ethan's hand and hit the floor.

"Let Aria have the Stanford recommendation. Quinn owes her."
I stared at the family group chat—the one I wasn't in—and let out a cold laugh.
In my past life, I went completely hysterical over this, only to earn my family's disgust and a miserable death.
Now, reborn and given a second chance, I looked at the room full of guests celebrating My success, and walked straight to the microphone.
"Everyone, the party is over. I'm turning down the Stanford spot."
Under my family's stunned gazes, I dumped my champagne into the trash bin.
This rotten family? I'm done with them.

I catch them mid-twist on the SoHo couch we picked out together—Ethan's shirt crumpled on the floor, his hands fisted in Layla's hair, her dress hitched high on her hips, her head thrown back in a gasp that curdles my blood.
My fingers go slack on the doorknob; the Lombardi's bag, his favorite chicken parmigiana, my promotion celebration, slams to the hardwood.
Violet's world shatters the moment she walks into her own living room and finds her husband tangled up with her stepsister. The man she loved. The sister she trusted. Both betraying her in the most humiliating way possible.
Now, with her marriage destroyed and her heart in pieces, Violet vows to take everything from them—her husband's empire, her stepsister's peace, and her own power back.
But when a mysterious billionaire, Liam Knight, walks into her life offering partnership and passion, Violet finds herself torn between revenge and the chance to love again.
Will she burn her enemies to ashes… or risk her heart one more time?

Victoria discovered that I hadn't submitted any supplemental medical expense claims for two weeks.
She assumed I had finally been disciplined and had given up what she called "the exploitative nature of the lower class."
Little did she know, my backpack held the signed divorce papers and my mother's death certificate.
As I turned to leave, I was still wearing the discounted trench coat she'd casually given me three years ago when we got married.
What she didn't know was that I, a deep-sea geology genius from MIT, willingly endured three years of her humiliation and ridiculous rules, just so my mother could stay in her conglomerate's private hospital to prolong her life.
Now, my mother has died because of unpaid bills , and even her ashes are carried by me in a cheap canvas bag.
Now that my loved one is dead, there's no need for me to continue being her obstructive dog on Wall Street. The lives she owed with those approval forms, I will settle with the collapse of her entire conglomerate empire.

My name is Serena, and I’m a werewolf. While the rest of my kind dreamt about finding their fated mate, fantasizing about meeting that perfect pair gifted by the Moon Goddess, I considered finding mine a curse.
My life ended when I found out the truth about my parents’ death. It was the day after my wedding, and I learned that my husband’s family planned to take over my pack from the beginning. I was so naïve that I married Declan like a lovesick pup, oblivious to the fact that my marriage was the final stage in his family’s scheme, and they succeeded in their plan, banishing me from my pack.
They thought I died, but I was planning to take everything that was mine and end my husband’s linage with my bare hands.
I had a spotless revenge plan, but fate’s sense of humor was ludicrous.
The man whom I promised to prosecute for all the pain he caused me was my fated mate, and ending him will also mean suicide.
~~
“You will always be Serena to me, wife.”
I simmered. “I’m not your wife.”
Declan bent a little on the waist, leveling his face with mine. “You’d be happy to know that we never got divorced, baby girl.”
Bristling, my nose flared. “I died. There’s no need for divorce.”
“Did you?” He caged me with his arms against the wall, a smirk stretching his lips. “And you are still mine, Serena. Don’t let Spade touch you like that again, or I’ll break his hand.”

"I want you, Fenris," Lyra whispers, "Wolf and man, all of you."
The raw hunger flashes in Fenris's eyes. He growled softly, his strong arms wrapping around her and pulling her flush against his body. They made love beneath the light of the full moon.
"I've never let anyone get this close during a full moon before."
"I'm honored to be the first," Lyra grinnes, "And a little smug that I managed to tame the big bad wolf."
Fenris chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest. "The night's still young, and I'm far from tamed."


In a world where dark magic and ancient beasts collide, a powerful witch named Lyra stumbles upon a centuries-old prophecy foretelling the end of the world. To prevent this catastrophe, she must form an alliance with Fenris, a brooding werewolf outcast. As they race against time to decipher cryptic clues and gather mystical artifacts, their initial distrust slowly transforms into a forbidden romance. With opposing factions of supernatural creatures hunting them and their own conflicting natures threatening to tear them apart, Lyra and Fenris must overcome their differences to save not just the world, but each other.

A gang boss ground my treasured staff into dust with one boot. “A gutter-bred bastard from the slums, and you’re hiding something this delicate? Cripple him. Let him learn who runs this turf.”
I stared at the silver-white powder on the floor. It was the last relic my brothers left me.
I once swore these hands would be used only to save people, never to kill again.
But today, even the heavens refused to allow it.
I lifted my head slowly. The elven ears I’d kept lowered in submission rose one by one in the dark, sharp as a wolf’s.
“You’re asking me who runs this turf?”
My fist snapped out and caved in the boss’s nose.
I twisted backhanded. Three elite enforcers had their bones shattered in an instant, collapsing like sacks of rotten meat.
I grabbed the boss by the throat with one hand and hoisted his two-hundred-pound body into the air, eyes cold as if I were staring at a corpse.
“Three years ago, when I laid down the rules in this district, you didn’t even know where you were playing in the mud.”
“My things are not for you to touch.”

Midnight Guardians: A Gargoyle Romance follows the passionate and forbidden love story between Amelia, a young art history student, and Gideon, an ancient gargoyle awakened from centuries of stone slumber. Set against the backdrop of a mysterious Gothic cathedral, their romance unfolds amidst danger from monster hunters, internal conflicts within the gargoyle community, and the challenges of bridging two vastly different worlds. As Amelia and Gideon fight for their love, they must also protect the secret world of the gargoyles and confront their own dark pasts. This epic tale spans centuries, exploring themes of sacrifice, redemption, and the enduring power of love.

Emily, unable to resist, moved closer, her hands running along Cassandra's body, mimicking the creature's caresses. She kissed Cassandra passionately, their tongues entwining in a wet, hungry dance. Cassandra's hands found Emily's breasts, squeezing and teasing the hardened peaks through the neoprene suit.

The creature's tentacles joined the erotic dance, wrapping around Cassandra's waist, pulling her closer. Its touch was both gentle and insistent, its suction cups leaving a trail of tingling sensations on Cassandra's skin. Emily's hands slid beneath Cassandra's wetsuit, her fingers deftly unfastening the zipper and sliding it down, exposing her heaving chest.

In a realm where shadows dance with light in an eternal duel, Lyra, a young and enchanting shadow mage, unearths a tantalizing secret hidden within her: the rare ability to communicate with shadow dragons—ancient, seductive creatures thought to be long extinct. Her heart races when she encounters Nyx, the brooding king of the shadow dragons, with scales like obsidian and eyes that smolder with ancient fire. Their souls intertwine in a blaze of raw chemistry, igniting a passion that sizzles through their very beings.

As the world around them simmers with political intrigue and forbidden magic, Lyra feels the heat radiating from Nyx, drawing her in. “You possess a power I’ve never encountered,” he whispers, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine, igniting an ache deep within her core. “But tell me, can you handle the darkness within me?”

“Maybe I want to embrace it,” Lyra replies, her breath hitching as she inches closer, her hearts whispering promises of nightfall passion. “Show me the depth of your shadows, and I’ll reveal the light that can coexist with them.”

Their connection deepens as they delve into the secrets threatening both their kinds, but the air between them thickens with unspoken desire. In the heat of their pursuit, they steal moments away from the chaos—a shared gaze laced with longing, a brush of fingertips that ignites fire beneath their skin.

My name is Jack Morris, a bottom-rung janitor on the docks.
Every day, people walk all over me, and I live on moldy bread.
Until one day, an old man I saved handed me a photograph. "This is my granddaughter. She's being held at the Black Swan Casino."
That used to be my place. Ten years ago.
Her father was a brother who died in my place.
I was once the king of the underground.
And now, at the banquet celebrating the tenth anniversary of my death, they're treating that old man's granddaughter like a toy.
If my disappearance only made those animals more brazen...
Then they can finish that drink and celebrate their own deaths next.

I'm Elena. My mother died when I was 10. After that, my dad married my mom's friend, who was his secretary too.

And now I'm lying on her son's arm. I never thought he would do it with me. Paul was on me while I was staring out the window of the car. He was quietly sleeping. I was stroking his hair and singing a poem that Mom had previously recited. Suddenly, the surroundings lit up slowly. So it'll be dawn soon. I put my voice down. He was still clutching me tightly in his sleep. I attempted to loosen his grip.

Ahh! In anguish, I closed my eyes. My lower back and lower body were in excruciating pain. I gently rested his head on the seat and smiled at him. I softly called his name, "Paul." "You know how much I love you," I added. "But now it's irrelevant to me," I said as I stroked his hair. "Are you sure you love me?" "Then you gave me the ability to hurt you, too." I kissed him on the lips as I said this. I got out of the car after giving him my farewell kiss. I didn't feel any pain. The stain on my back was already turned to black and crimson. I made my way to my room. It's already light outside.
[MATURED CONTENT]

"Mother,"
I opened my eyes. Everything around me is a haze. I gazed at the candlelight. It was wobbling from side to side. I noticed a woman seated near me, but everything was fuzzy.
I heard a voice unexpectedly. It was a woman's voice, echoing in my ear.
She was singing a low-toned lullaby.
"Mother, is it you?"
I heard my name, "Maxilin, I am here."
"Mother," I said with a tremble in my voice. I have no idea what's wrong with me.
I reached out cautiously to touch her, but she was out of my reach.
"Where are you, mother?"
"Oh, my beloved, try to hold me, come here, "
"Mother," Maxilin tried to stand up, but he was too weak. Maxi narrowed his eyes in an effort to see her face clearly, but he couldn't because everything was fuzzy. A woman in a white outfit moved in front of his sight.
Maxi took a few steps forward while still gripping the chair. "Mother, don't leave," he murmured, dizzily.
As he said, he saw in his fuzzy vision that someone had opened the door. "Mother, please don't leave me," Maxilin pleaded.
He let go of the chair's hold and dashed behind her. "Mother, don't leave me. Wait." In his frail state, he shouted and followed her.
"Huf".
In the middle of his path, he stopped. "Mother, you've left me here alone,"
"Maxi," he heard the voice unexpectedly. Maxi glanced up and looked around. It's all clear now, but he's stuck in the midst of the woods. He gazed up at the sky. A giant moon was staring at him, and a horde of deadly, voracious creatures were roaring around him.
"Son," someone touched his shoulder, he looked back, saw a terrifying creature standing in front of him.
"Hello, dear."

After I retired, I was willing to do the dirtiest work at a small auto repair shop—just to give my sick daughter an ordinary childhood.
I endured my mother’s insults, my eldest brother’s wage cuts, my younger brother’s extortion.
But they actually joined forces to steal my daughter’s life-saving money for gambling, then sold me into an illegal mine to pay off their debts.
When the iron chain locked around my wrist, when my daughter cried in despair, the killing intent that had slept in my blood for three years finally woke up completely.
They had no idea I was once the iron-blooded God of War—commander of a million troops, the name that made enemy nations tremble.