2064 Book(s) Related to two headed fox

Seraphina already knew what pleasure felt like, a secret she shared with her mother’s old friend.
Now, that secret is always with her. When her mother moves in with a new fiancé, Seraphina has to go with them to his large house. But she does not expect to meet a charming stepbrother, who quietly watches over her. A dangerous sexy eyes that want her in ways she cannot ignore. Seraphina tries to forget her past, but her sexual hormones kept failing her. How long will she hold herself?.......Sexual emotion know no boundaries....

Emery’s undying love for her late mother drove her to do things only a desperate person could understand. To save her mother’s company, she agreed to marry a man twice her age. There’s no way she could escape the miserable truth, but on the day of the wedding, she married the wrong groom who turned out to be the wealthiest man in the country.
It’s like the Heavens gave her another chance and she won’t let the chance slip away. However, can she withstand the tension whenever her fake husband is near her? What if she falls for him? Will he catch her? Or she’d fall into a more complicated situation?


Every man's dream was to watch their bride walk down the aisle towards them, however, the beautiful dream turned into a nightmare when Terrence found a different woman under the veil. His bride ran away and he was forced to marry a stranger. To make everything more complicated, he just got appointed as the company President and he needs to maintain a good reputation.
Keeping his fake bride by his side is the only choice left to him. However, how can he deal with his self-control when the woman he mistakenly married is a total goddess of temptation?

“Don’t move.” His voice is low, commanding, and my body obeys before my mind can even process it.
I'm pressed against the cold marble wall of the palace, his hands traces my thigh, my body heated up in desire or fear, I can’t tell.
“Tell me you want this,” he murmurs, pressing his hardened cock against my pulsing center,
“Tell me you crave me Aria,” his lips brushes my ears.
“Tell me you want me to fuck you till the entire of Olympus hear you moan my name.” he nibbles on my ear.
I bite back a gasp, because yes, I want him. I want him in ways I shouldn't, in ways that terrify me.

Aria Hale was never meant for the underworld and she hated the king of the underworld more than anything.
After Aria is betrayed by her sister and fiance, She finds herself in the underworld and soul-bound to Hades… the god of death, danger and impossible desire. He's commanding, possessive and devastatingly handsome, with powers that makes her ache and his dominance that ignites a sudden fire inside of her that she can’t seem to control.
Although enemies at first sight, they are forced into a marriage that pushes her limit and in turn she challenges the control of Hades. In those stolen electric moments, their desire becomes impossible to resist.
But Aria is not done. Thrust back into earth by a mysterious shadow that she strikes a blood oath with. She comes back to earth for revenge against those who betrayed her and stop their plans before it happens.
But the underworld is bubbling and she is more dangerous than Hades expected….Far more dangerous.
Will Aria give into the passionate love between her and Hades or will she risk everything for her revenge and power?

"Run, mi amor, run, while I watch."
"I feel his eyes everywhere, always watching!"
Ever heard of a hunter becoming the hunted?
That is what happened to Victoria Alexander.
After years of getting betrayed by her husband and best friend, Victoria returns to the city, stronger and more determined to ruin his seemingly happy home.
But things turns out sour for her as her mission for revenge turns into a game in a serial murder case.
While hunting her ex-husband's happiness and an unknown serial killer, Victoria suddenly becomes the hunted.
The thrilling part is that she isn't hunted by just anyone but a powerful shadow, hidden in the dark, watching. Always watching with nothing but a single phrase that leaves chills in her.

19 year old Bellatrix finds herself exiled to an enemy pack priorn to the destruction of her pack. And to worsen things, the one who brought her into the world of misery, widely feared and known for his cruelty, Alpha Anslan Robertson, turned out to be her mate.
What was the way forward for this timid young lady who even found it hard to shift?

At my boss's mother's funeral, I couldn't hold back my laughter, and as a result, I was treated as a lunatic, stuffed into a garbage cannon, and launched naked into an apocalyptic forest full of zombies. Everyone thought I was doomed, but they didn't know—I had been reborn 1,001 times. Unarmed and surrounded by the zombie horde, about to be torn to shreds, in desperation I clung to the last clue... When I finally uncovered the truth that could overturn everything, I laughed from the bottom of my heart. This time, I would personally end this greatest lie.

My adopted sister, Cordelia, conspired with her biological mother to harvest my organs alive, yet she had the audacity to claim I paid thugs to rape her.
My biological parents didn't bother to ask for the truth. They cursed me, calling me a vicious bastard, and threatened to break my legs.
My fiancé, Caspian, coldly announced the cancellation of our engagement, declaring he would marry the very murderer who killed me.
I had been dead for exactly three days. No one cared. My body was rotting back in a moldy storage room.
Through it all, my soul was trapped in the manor, forced to witness this absurd farce.
But what they didn't expect was that when they finally learned of my death—
Everyone went completely insane.

For the top university in the North American wolf packs, transfer students aren't exactly breaking news. But this one sets the entire forum on fire.

It starts with a photo. A girl standing next to a tall, imposing man. Both faces are deliberately blurred, but that build, that presence... every wolf in North America recognizes it. The Alpha King. The caption reads: "Dad why'd you send me this 😭 I'm not ready to go public yet."

Minutes later, the post vanishes. But screenshots flood the forum.

"Moon Goddess above! Is that really the Alpha King?"

"The girl in the photo... could she be the royal princess no one's ever seen?"

The comments explode. Compliments flood in. Even my aloof boyfriend joins in.

Something feels off. I type out a comment: "The Alpha King keeps a low profile. His daughter should do the same. Posting photos like this... doesn't seem right."

Less than a minute later, the replies come.

"Who do you think you are to question her?"

"Can't stand seeing someone else do well, huh?"

My boyfriend chimes in too: "Quit it. You're embarrassing yourself."

I pick up my phone and dial a number. "Dad, since when do you have another daughter?"

I was their real daughter.

The lost princess they found, brought home, and promised to protect.

But every time she cried, I was the one punished.

Every time she bled, I was the one accused.

When she disappeared, they said it was my fault. They tore my memories apart to prove it.

Fine , only if they stand where I stood, feel what I felt, will they ever know my pain.

"Please don't eat me," she begged. The voice was that if angels. Miniature and meek, quiet as one of the wisps that like to toy with my braided hair. My heart almost stopped hearing her cry.

Calling Tazak back over at the base of the trunk, dirty fingers touched the outside of the rotting tree. Half of a porcelain face peeked out. The saltiness I smelled was that of her dried tears stuck to her face. The dirt had been washed away in small trails where her tears were left in its wake. An amethyst eye looked me up and down, no doubt disturbed by my appearance.

Creed: An Exiled Dragon, known for his ruthless fighting and disturbing appearance. The dragon elders deemed him unworthy of a mate, the Moon Goddess would never grant one that was concieved of ra.pe.

Odessa: A lonely woman who lost her father to cancer, her estranged mother finds her hours after her father's death. She whisks her away to a fantasy world to repay her debt to the Duke of Vamparia. She is now a mere blood bag, but one night fate was on her side. Odessa escaped the vampire kingdom only to be found by a beast who takes her under his wings.

Lucifer the God of Destruction, son of the infamous King of the Underworld, Hades, has come into a predicament that he isn't sure he will be able to handle.
His power and anger grow daily, his father believing Kronos is trying to inhabit his body. He spends his days and nights torturing the souls of hell but it is not enough. His desire to run to Earth and destroy every living thing like his grandfather, Kronos, grows by the day. No longer thinking a mate would sate even his most evilest desires, he continues to try and control himself all on his own.

Goddess of Innocence, Uriel was born from Hera and her mate, Michael, an archangel. Since her birth, they have kept her hidden away, trying to keep her innocence. No one in Olympus or the Celestial kingdom knew of this beautiful angel, until one day she makes a glorious appearance at a baby announcement in the Underworld. Stealing the show, and completely oblivious of stares and whispers, she eats her fill of food only to be recognized by the woman-hating Lucifer.

What could possibly happen next?

Warning the female lead is extremely naive and innocent. She is unaware of the outside world and how it works, including people's true intentions

"No... my baby!"

Juliana Wells weakly reached out, her fingers grasping at nothing as nurses whisked the blood-covered newborn away before she could even catch a glimpse.

Through the haze, she heard the midwife's urgent shout.

"The other baby has the cord wrapped around its neck! Heart rate's dropping! We need an emergency C-section now! Mrs. Sharp, you need to make a decision!"

But Ashley Sharp's response from outside the delivery room was ice-cold: "Don't bother. Get rid of her and that useless thing in her belly. The Sharp family only needs one heir."

Juliana's breath caught in her throat. She clutched the sheets beneath her with trembling hands, her voice barely a whisper. "...Why?"

A year ago, the Wells Group had been maliciously reported for tax evasion. Overnight, everything collapsed.
Her father, consumed by despair, had thrown himself from the company's rooftop. Her mother suffered a cerebral hemorrhage upon hearing the news and died before the ambulance arrived. Juliana hadn't even had time to grieve before creditors descended like wolves, eager to devour what little remained of the Wells family fortune.

That's when Ashley had appeared with an offer she couldn't refuse—carry a child via IVF for the Sharp family's comatose eldest son, critically injured in a car accident. Give them a son to continue the bloodline. In exchange, Ashley would eliminate all her enemies and clear the Wells family name.

Juliana had believed her. She'd gambled everything, endured ten months of pregnancy, suffered through excruciating labor. But from the very beginning, Ashley had never intended to keep her promise. What a carefully orchestrated trap. What a perfect betrayal. She and her unborn child were nothing but disposable tools.

This humiliation, this stolen child—Juliana would never forget.

"Men are visual creatures. Put on this sexy nightgown, lie on the bed, and trust me—he won't be able to resist!"

My best friend sent me a lace nightgown with cutouts.

I traded my usual innocent look for something different. The sheer fabric clung to my curves, revealing just enough to be tantalizing.

We'd been married for three years. The first time we made love was only a month ago.

Kian had been drunk. He was gentle as he entered me.

But now, as I shyly reached for Kian's hand in silent invitation, he coldly turned me down.

He'd rather lock himself in his study, pleasuring himself while calling out another woman's name.

His first love.

How often was it that two madly successful brothers wanted to sleep with a nobody like me? They worshipped my mom-bod when my own husband couldn't.
They fought with each other to make me theirs. And all of this unleashed passion that no couple nor even a pornstar could reach - over a Christmas getaway.
Sometimes, working as a tour guide comes with its own 'troubles', I guess!


My body was on fire. The young blood, who claimed to be a singer of some sort, had his hand on the small of my back.
Sex with Raphael was anything but exciting. No foreplay, no kissing and no cuddling after boring sex.
But with this young, charming man named DYLAN, I felt excitement even before I guided him to my room. I quickly realized he was right next door - Dylan was my tour neighbor.
Dylan looked at someone and winked at them before closing the door. That was weird. But I was too dazed to realize it.
Dylan turned back to me, his piercing eyes gazing down at me. My body was tingling.
One look and I could see the man's toned body under his soft, spandex white tee. I bit my lip, accidentally directing the hormonal male's attention to my plump, pink lips.
"Are those rose petals...?" Dylan asked, biting his own lip. The sound that he made immediately after made my thighs clench. It sounded like the sexiest groan of a frustrated man!
What was that?

She died in prison. After years of betrayal, humiliation, and pain.
But fate gave her a second chance-rebirth.
Now, she's no longer the submissive housewife everyone looked down on. She's a fierce, unstoppable boss lady-out for revenge.
Cheating ex? Destroyed. Fake friends? Exposed. Dignity? Reclaimed. She takes back everything they stole from her-one slap at a time.
But just when she thought she had control over everything, she comes home to the mysterious man in the wheelchair.
With a sweet smile, she leans down. "Miss me?"
He suddenly stands up, pins her against the wall, and whispers, "I missed you... and I need you."
Her eyes widen. "Y-Your legs?! When did you-?"
He smirks. "That's a secret."

When I accepted the Global War Photography Award at the ceremony, a reality TV crew crashed through the velvet ropes, their cameras flashing like strobes at a crime scene.
"Ms. Evelyn Vance!"
The host shoved a microphone in my face. "After twenty years of silence, are you still holding a grudge against your father? Just because he saved the neighbor's orphaned child first and left you in that burning building?"
I looked up, past the blinding lights, toward the figure at the edge of the crowd. Robert Bennett.
He pushed through and stepped forward, his calloused hands trembling as they closed around my cold fingers.
"Nora, Kayla's parents didn't make it out. Under those circumstances, I had to get that newly orphaned child to safety first."
His eyes pleaded with me. "You're my daughter. You understand, don't you?"
I stared at those hands imprisoning mine, then pulled my lips into a cold smile and wrenched free.
"You've got the wrong person," my voice was ice. "There's no Nora here. My name is Evelyn Vance."

Lunar Depletion Syndrome. Seven days.
That was my death countdown. And my Alpha mate Kael was still threatening me, demanding I use the last of my life force to save my sister.
On our third anniversary, he had given me a surgical consent form and dissolution papers as gifts.
How laughable.
Three years ago he had said my eyes sparkled like stars. Three years later he wanted me to close them forever.
They all said I had finally matured, learned the spirit of sacrifice expected of an older sister. The joke was, I hadn't been moved by love.
I was just tired.
Why struggle when death was inevitable?
Rather than dying alone in the wilderness, it was better to die on the operating table and become the perfect sacrifice in their story.

I was the best student, the most obedient, the most compliant—yet the only unloved child in our family.

When my brother got into fights, I took his punishment. When my sister snuck out with boys, I bore the consequences. Mom force-fed me pills and made me get my stomach pumped just to scare my brother away from smoking. Dad dressed ten-year-old me like a prostitute and threw me into a bar to warn my sister against going astray.

In the end, they sold me to a gambler for a few hundred dollars.

I died in a dark pond, and no one heard me calling for help.

But when my spirit drifted home, they were gathered around the dinner table, laughing and talking as if nothing was wrong.

It wasn't until the police knocked on their door that they realized—I had been missing for seven whole days.

Later, my brother clutched the chocolate he never got to give me, crying every day. My sister dreamed every night of ten-year-old me struggling and screaming in that bar. Dad knelt at my grave daily, consumed by guilt. And Mom, after killing that gambler, threw herself into the same pond where I had drowned.

Finally, they loved me.

But I was already dead.

After five years of a secret marriage, her husband never showed any affection in public. Sophia Johnson had always chalked it up to his personality—until he took their twin sons and his first love out for a candlelit dinner, earning rave reviews online as the "most stunning family." That’s when her heart finally shattered completely.
Hearing her own sons call the woman "Auntie" repeatedly, Sophia came to her senses. A husband who didn’t love her, sons who were estranged from her—she didn’t want any of it. From that moment on, she would only love herself.
After the divorce, she returned to her hometown village to pick up her old profession: growing medicinal herbs, treating rare illnesses, and developing skincare miracles. Luxury cars often arrived late at night in the remote village, drawn by her skills.
When word got out that she was looking for a father for her daughter, elite scientists, financial tycoons, A-list idols, award-winning actors... All kinds of tycoons emerged, volunteering themselves, hoping to catch her eye.
Later, her ex-husband knelt on a bed of durians, his face filled with remorse. "Soph, I love you. Will we remarry?"
She scoffed. "William Smith, isn’t the forbidden fruit sweet enough?"
Her twin sons knelt on computer keyboards side by side. "Mommy, we only want you!"
Sophia waved them off. "No, I can’t afford you."

In my past life, I spent everything loving Ronald Wright, only to watch him chase after his first love and marry her in the end. I died alone and sick in a hospital, forgotten.

After being reborn, I gave up. On our wedding anniversary, I asked for a divorce. I walked away from being a full-time housewife and became the youngest rising star in the design world.

But something changed. The husband who once ignored me suddenly cared. He came home every day, afraid I might cheat on him.
I sneered, “One day, you’ll be the one begging for a divorce.” He laughed, “Keep dreaming.”

I waited for him to realize, just like in the past, that he still loved the other woman and would force me to leave, giving me millions in return.

But this time, he pulled me into his arms and said, “What’s money after a divorce? I’m worth billions. It’s all yours. But you—you’re mine.”

When Iris went to prison for her boyfriend, she discovered that he was about to marry Alpha's daughter.
It turned out that he had been using her all along and then abandoned her...
Iris fell into despair, but unexpectedly, she crossed paths with Marcus, Alpha's son and her former patient.
She became her ex's brother-in-law's wedding companion?! The most notorious playboy in the Pack?

Catherina Hanshaw Dalton has spent six years believing she lived a fairytale, married to billionaire Xavier Dalton, cherished by him, and building a life rooted in devotion, even amid one heartbreak she cannot control: their inability to have a child. Though Xavier assures her she is enough, Catherine senses his quiet disappointment, a wound deepened by the venomous hostility of his mother, Lydia Dalton. Lydia never misses a chance to insult Catherine’s infertility, idolize Xavier’s sister Mia and her children, or imply Xavier married beneath his status. Catherine endures it all, clinging to the one constant comfort, Xavier always defends her. Or so she believes.
This Christmas, however, Catherine’s dread of another humiliating Dalton family gathering turns into confusion. Lydia is gracious….kind, even. The manor is full of relatives, business partners, and esteemed guests, including Hunter Powell, Xavier’s ruthless business rival. The brief moment when Cathy’s eyes meet Hunter unsettles her, but nothing prepares her for Lydia’s “special Christmas gift.”
During the toast, Lydia presents Caroline Turner…a beautiful young woman who is allegedly four months pregnant through surrogacy…with Xavier’s child.

Noah, usually inseparable from his father, had spent the entire week insisting that only I take him camping. His declared mission: mastering "real survival skills"—a not-so-subtle jab at his dad's preference for cushy glamping.
Liam played along, hamming it up as he swung our son goodbye. But beneath the teasing jealousy, something felt off. He packed the trunk too fast. Checked the gas without being asked. Almost assembly-line efficiency.
And that line about a last-minute client flying in from Chicago? Didn't sound like bad luck. Sounded like an excuse.
All week, he never pushed back. Just quietly, almost eagerly, waited for us to leave.
I figured he wanted the house to himself: scotch, cigars, silence.
Then the call came—and I got it.
He hadn’t cleared the house for peace and quiet.
He’d cleared it for her.

Betrayed and killed by the wolf king in my past life, I came back from hell. On the wedding day, I turned down his proposal without hesitation. I made a blood pact with his greatest enemy—the vampire king. Together, we avenged my child and family, and built a new future in the dark.

My daughter Lily was shot dead while she was performing on her own stage.
I rushed forward to shield her, and a speaker crashed down onto my right shoulder. The bone shattered.
My husband, Vincent, “shot the gunman dead” at once and sealed off the entire opera house.
When I woke up in the hospital room, the pain almost suffocated me. My right shoulder was wrapped in thick bandages, and when I tried to raise my arm, all I felt was a numb.
“…This isn’t what we agreed on.” The doctor’s voice was low and unsteady. “We only needed her blood sample for matching. Why did it have to go this far?”
“Lily’s blood type is a perfect match. This is the best possible outcome,” Vincent said. “I married Elena for this moment. I’ve been waiting for it.”
The doctor was silent for a few seconds. “But she’s your daughter… There’s no need to sacrifice a life, even if she is a Salaceno.”
Vincent cut him off. “You know how long an artificial heart can last. Camila’s daughter won’t hold out for long. I can’t put her through another surgery.”
“Camila’s child is the one I should cherish.”
At that moment, my blood ran cold. In his eyes, my daughter was nothing but an organ container.
He had no idea. All that talk about protecting his precious daughter—she wasn't even his.

To help his life-saving benefactor, he personally pressed a pregnant me on the operating table to draw bone marrow.
I cried and begged him, "James, I'm pregnant. It's your child. Don't do this to me..."
But he had a look of disgust in his eyes. "Elizabeth, you'd lie about something like that just to get out of helping Mandy?"
Until there was a river of blood in the operating room and that unformed child turned into a pool of bloody water, he finally panicked.
Later, when he knew that the person who saved him in the fire ten years ago was actually me, he held my ashes and knelt outside the operating room for a full three days.

Savannah thought marriage would bring her love, but it only gave her pain. On the night of her anniversary, her husband handed her divorce papers and chose his mistress instead. Left with nothing, Savannah ran away carrying a secret — a baby growing inside her.

Alone, broke, and hunted, she tried to survive in a strange city. Just when her strength failed, a powerful stranger saved her life and rushed her to the best hospital in town. She never knew his face before, but fate was not done with her.

Now Savannah must fight for her baby, hide from the man who betrayed her, and guard her heart against the stranger who shows her the love she never had. But can she really trust him… or will history repeat itself?

Dear readers,
If you enjoy this novel, I’d recommend another book of the same genre: .
On my wedding day, I found another woman's sexy lace bra in my husband's car, with semen still on it...

A month before my wedding, I burned the dress I'd spent a year making with my own hands.
My fiancé stood there with his pregnant mistress wrapped in his arms, sneering at me. "Without me, you're nothing."
I turned around and knocked on the richest man in the city's door. "Mr. Locke, interested in a marriage alliance? I'm offering a hundred-billion-dollar stake—plus a future business empire, free of charge."
——
Dear readers, I'd like to recommend another novel of the same genre: After His Mistress Conceived, I Left Him.

My husband Lucius said: 'My real wife has returned.'
To keep him, for a month I clung to him, making love passionately...

When I was in excruciating pain from cancer, my husband gave the last box of painkillers to his pregnant mistress.

"What if I told you I don 't care?" Amelia shot back, her tone sharp and unwavering.
Miguel 's lips curved into a sly smile, his eyes gleaming with challenge. "Then I 'd say you 're lying to yourself, Mia. Because no one fights this hard unless they feel something."
Amelia Hart 's quiet, predictable life is upended when her mother marries the wealthy Emilio Sanchez, bringing Amelia face-to-face with her new stepbrother, Miguel Angel Sanchez.
Wanton, arrogant, and infuriatingly charming, Miguel is everything she detests in a person. But sharing a home—and a school—turns Amelia 's disdain into a fiery rivalry, and their clashes soon spark something neither of them can deny.
Torn between her lifelong crush on the handsome, dependable Christian Grammer and the undeniable pull toward Miguel 's dangerous charm, Amelia 's world becomes even more complicated than she imagined.
As secrets are exposed and the pressures of their families, the media, and their own hearts collide, Amelia and Miguel must decide whether to risk it all for a love that feels as impossible as it does inevitable.
In this passionate enemies-to-lovers story, where love and hate blur at every turn, the greatest risk might just be following their hearts.
The Fine Line Between Us is a story of forbidden romance, self-discovery, and the courage to follow your heart.

Some rules are meant to be broken. Eva knows she shouldn’t fall for Josh—he’s her brother’s best friend, a constant in her life, and completely off-limits. But when his teasing, protective gestures start to stir feelings she can’t ignore, Eva is forced to confront a truth she didn’t expect: the heart wants what it wants, even if it’s the last thing she should risk.

#YAwritingcontest

On the morning before Christmas Eve, I was polishing my shoes in my apartment, preparing to meet my girlfriend Camilla's parents, who lived in the uptown, the next day to discuss marriage.
Through years of hard work, I finally bought a house in the city.
I suddenly had a splitting headache, and a blue system interface appeared on my retina, telling me that the sea level would rise by 8,000 meters in 24 hours and that a deep-sea mutated tide would submerge the world.
To survive, I must get 10 people to each transfer $ 5,000 to me before the countdown ends , and I will receive an asylum spot for each transfer I receive.

After 3 years of bloody battles, the War King returns, only to hear his fiancée Elena “fell to her death”. But he finds she’s alive, pregnant, and imprisoned. He swears to slaughter all enemies and protect his woman and unborn child.

The multi-million-dollar deal I worked my ass off to win back was handed over by my boss to a clueless new hire who could barely even read the material codes. And that same rookie had the nerve to mock me in public, saying I was nothing but his errand girl.
My boss went even further, tore up every rule in the book, and shoved a termination agreement right at me.
I didn't argue. I didn't make a scene. I took the severance and walked away.
Because I knew one thing better than anyone: without me, they wouldn't even make it through the manufacturers' front doors.
Sure enough, just days after I left, the entire supply chain fell apart, and the company's cash flow completely collapsed.
And when they started scrambling in desperation, running all over New York begging investment executives to save them, they walked straight onto my mother's turf.

For four years, I tolerated Grayson’s blatant favoritism. He spoiled my roommate Mia with exquisite breakfasts every day, while leaving me with plain biscuits and bitter black coffee. I swallowed every unfair slight, hoping for true love. Yet he finally humiliated me thoroughly by choosing Mia over me for the elite corporate event, sneering that I was unworthy of high society. Hiding my identity as the university’s secret heiress, I stopped my father from ruining his career on impulse. I will let them attend the glamorous party—not out of mercy, but to deliver my quiet, devastating revenge. Now I only need time to decide my next move, and whether to accept my arranged engagement.

"Baby, lend me Stella for the movie."
When my fiancé Damon said this, I thought it was the most romantic thing ever. My guide dog starring in his Oscar-worthy film—what a perfect love story.
I'm Aria Sinclair, 26-year-old blind film producer with perfect pitch and endless money, but no eyes. So when he said "The press will go crazy for our story," I stupidly agreed.
Three weeks later, in the editing room:
01:47:23—Dull impact.
01:47:31—Familiar whimper.
01:47:35—Silence.
My perfect pitch never lies. That wasn't CGI—that was real impact. Worse, I knew that whimper. That was Stella, my guide dog, my eyes, my most loyal companion.
They killed her. For a goddamn trophy.
On premiere night, when Damon walked the red carpet with a strange German Shepherd, when I touched her paw and found no white star-shaped mark—
"This is not my dog!"
I broke down in front of hundreds of reporters.
"Honey, you're under too much stress," Damon said gently. "Maybe you need rest."
Whispers from the audience: "Poor blind girl..." "She really needs help..."
Just like that, I became the crazy one.
Abandoned by the world.
Betrayed by the man I loved most.
But they made one fatal mistake—they thought stealing my eyes would silence me.
Now it's time to let them hear what despair sounds like...
[Click to watch me destroy them both...]

I bought a handsome, aloof incubus from a clearance sale online to be my live-in maid.
For a week, he was perfect. Then he started fainting, his skin burning with a fever no amount of rest could fix. Panicked that I’d somehow overworked my best employee, I called the 24/7 Aphrodisiac (companyI bought him from) helpline.

Ma’am, our incubus models have a demonic lineage and you have got a high-output model. They have near-infinite stamina. They don't get 'feverish' from vacuuming. But... why did you have him doing 'housework'?"
"Because the house was dirty?"
The agent suddenly chuckled. "Ah, I see. Everyone has their own fantasies and kinks. Roleplay is very popular. But tell me, according to the log, when was the last time Xanthos received physical intimacy?"
"Huh?"
"Physical intimacy," the agent repeated. "Love, spoiling, skin-to-skin contact. If a male incubus doesn't get intimacy, his internal energy stagnates. They fall sick. Male models are much higher maintenance than females; they need constant affection to stay healthy."
My blood ran cold. "Affection? I bought him to mop the floors!"
"Ma'am," the agent's voice dropped. "You are on Aphrodisiac. We are the world's leading provider of supernatural escorts. Did you... did you not read the site description?"

Turns out, I hadn’t bought a demonic domestic servant.
I’d accidentally purchased a high-maintenance supernatural escort.
And apparently, if I didn’t start showing my “maid” some affection soon, he would die and I would be jailed for abusing my maid.

"Riccardo, please! I beg you!"
My water broke ten minutes ago. Warm liquid streamed down my legs and slowly froze into ice on the ground beneath me.
He stood on the other side of the bulletproof glass. In his eyes, there was not a trace left of the man I had once loved with all my heart.
In the Bellanona Mafia family, bloodline surpasses everything, and the hierarchy of age is an unyielding iron rule: the firstborn son shall inherit the entire underworld empire.
My sister-in-law Sofia and I were both pregnant, our due dates merely one day apart.
To make sure his elder brother’s child seized the succession right first, my husband coldly chose to sacrifice our own flesh and blood.
"My brother’s child must be born first." Riccardo’s voice came over the intercom, colder and more piercing than bitter winter wind. "This is what you owe them."
He had not only locked me inside this icy cellar. Just moments ago, his men pinned me down ruthlessly and injected a dose of medicine into my vein, solely to forcefully halt my labor.
Writhing in agony, I hugged my heavily pregnant belly tightly with both arms.
I could distinctly feel the little life inside me, once kicking and struggling relentlessly, growing fainter and fainter.
I’m sorry, my baby… Mommy is so sorry for you.

My husband's first love was in trouble.
When the news came, I was lying on the operating table.
Dr. Miller put down his scalpel and said to Dr. Johnson, "I'll leave my wife's surgery to you."

"If I don’t go now, I might regret it for the rest of my life."

With that, he turned and walked away.
Watching my husband's retreating figure, I couldn't hold back—tears fell.
The next second, the cold blade of a scalpel touched my skin.

Dr. Johnson spoke calmly, "Why the tears? With me here, you'll be fine."

My husband told me our daughter was brain-dead. He put a pen in my hand and told me to sign the organ donation form. He said it was the merciful thing to do.
I signed.
Then I watched her heart get cut out and transplanted into another child — his mistress's son.
He'd been planning it for months. The fake diagnosis, the doctor who happened to be his college girlfriend, the night his mother lured me away from the hospital so they could drug my little girl.
When I found out the truth, he killed me for it.
But somehow, I woke up back at that desk. Same pen. Same form. Same lying face waiting for my signature.
This time, I'm not signing. This time, they pay.