AAAngels

It was June, at the crack of dawn, a beautiful woman woke up with pains wracking her body and a splitting headache in a presidential suite of a five-star hotel, somewhere in the capital city, Nordeny. She felt utterly exhausted. Her head was killing her. It was as if she had woken up in a stranger's body. The young woman was Anya MacMillan. She forced her eyes open and pushed herself up. The sight before her baffled her. A huge bed. Messy sheets with streaks of dried dubious fluids stained. Clothes strewn across the bed and the floor. Clothes that belonged to her and a man. Anya jerked in shock. She whipped her head around and stared at the other side of the bed. On the huge and messy bed slept the man whom she had been secretly in love with forever. Evan Welton, the most sought-after bachelor in the capital city. The Adonis of Nordeny. Exhaustion lined his handsome face. His eyes were tightly shut. He showed no signs of waking up. He was completely naked, His finely sculpted form laid completely bare to Anya's eyes. The pounding in Anya's head worsened. Her breathing quickened. Did she...had she...with Evan...last night? Anya shoved aside the splitting pain in her head and forced herself to recall what had happened last night. Last night...she remembered that she had paid a visit to her stepmother. What had happened after that? Her memories were a blur. Her head felt heavy and her neck was killing her. Amid the fog clouding her head, snippets of memories flashed. She remembered heated touches, naked flesh and then some... There was no doubt about it. They had sex. It must be her stepmother. Her stepmother must have drugged them! Anya couldn't think of anyone else who would do something so vicious to her! Anya felt an alarm sound off in her head. 'She had to get out of here,' she thought. She tried to clamber out of bed immediately. She knew exactly who Evan Welton was. The man set to inherit the vast fortunes of the wealthiest family in Nordeny and the bachelor whom every young woman from any respectable family sought to marry. A man who loathed the advances of women he didn't know. Angering him would mean death. Anya imagined the possibility of Evan waking up right now. What would he think when he saw the mess? There was no way she could talk her way out of this one. She had been secretly in love with the man since she had been a girl. She didn't want the man to detest her. Anya scrambled to get out of bed. Suddenly, something shot towards her from the other side of the bed. He wrapped himself around her slender waist and yanking her back forcefully. The next moment, she was trapped under someone. She heard a husky male voice, rough with anger and through a clenched jaw. "Anya MacMillan...how dare you drug me..." Anya's mind cleared up. The fog that had clouded her head dispelled immediately. She shook her head frantically. "I didn't do it! It wasn't me..." "You didn't? How did you end up in my bed then?" Evan detested such shameless and stealthy means. His fingers tightened around Anya's pale arms. His strong grip nearly crushed her fragile bones. Pain spiked down Anya's arms. Her eyes reddened as she repeated herself. Evan wasn't interested in listening to her denials. In his view, she was just another despicable, loose woman who drugged him so that she could sleep with him. He released his grip on her and shoved her aside roughly. Then, he got out of bed and began to dress himself. "I don't want to see you again. Ever. Appear in my sight again and you're dead." The young man pulled on the rest of his clothes angrily. It was then that Sydney, Anya's stepsister, burst into the room suddenly. The sight of the mess in the room sent her into an instant rage. She had thought that the drug would make them pa** out and put up a deception of them having had sex. They weren't supposed to actually sleep with each other!

Amelia was a substitute bride. Her husband Oscar was originally in love with some other woman named Cassie, but Cassie put up a front on the day of their wedding and ran away. Four years later, she returned to the city and asked Amelia to step aside so that she could reunite with her lover. Was it going to be that easy? While Amelia and Oscar had come to a truce that love would never exist in their contract marriage, Amelia was very busy falling in love with Oscar. Love You Enough To Leave You Novel narrates the story of Amelia and Oscar, and how love and fate would have them sail in the tides of a love, hate relationship. Amelia was asked to make way for the queen of Oscar Clinton's heart. Her name was Cassie, and she was audacious in her return. Directly asking Amelia to step aside so that she could continue to take care of the love of her life, Cassie was not backing down as she waited tenaciously for Amelia to clear off from her 'destined' path.

Wiltspoon's hot weather in October was a killer. Still, the mornings and evenings were eased by the late autumn breeze. Serenity Hunt got up first thing in the morning to make breakfast for her sister's family of three before grabbing her birth certificate and slipping away ... Serenity had believed that married life would be routine, respectful, and mundane ever since she wed a stranger she had met on a blind date. Her new husband's tendency to cling to her like a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe never occurred to her. She was utterly shocked to discover that whenever she was in trouble, he could make her problems go away. She questioned, but her husband always said it was just luck. Up until the day she saw an interview with a local billionaire who was renowned for making a big deal out of his wife. She then noticed the billionaire's startling resemblance to her husband. He turned out to be praising his wife, who was actually her!

I stared out across the water watching the sunset as the sky puts on its final show for the day. Today was my only day off, and after I helped my parents at our cottage, they let me come to hang out at my favorite spot on the water for the last few hours of the day. The sound of the waves on the water is always a very soothing sound to me, and I need it. I hide out in a spot where I can't be seen unless you know where to look. I have been here hundreds of times and have seen some of the other teenagers from school, but I choose not to show myself. I have to deal with them enough during the school week, and I really don't want to associate with them anyway. My name is Gabrielle Emerson, and I live in the Red River pack in Fairview, CA. We live near the Shasta National Forest, off of Trinity Lake, and it is a beautiful area. Fairview sits at the bottom of Trinity Lake, and it is really nice to live by a body of water. I stay until the sun has completely set in the sky and all you can see is the darkness, pierced by the beautiful light from the stars and the moon high in the sky.

David Lidell vomited blood and passed out when he was enraged by his rival in love. When he woke up, he realized he had obtained a super lavish system, and it was asking him to spend a quadrillion dollars. After that, David embarked on the journey toward the pinnacle of his life.

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world. In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief." But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius. Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be.

Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun. Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos. As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage. The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice. Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her.

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.

Serena Vance, an unloved wife, clutched a custom-made red velvet cake to her chest, enduring the cold rain outside an exclusive Upper East Side club. She hoped this small gesture for her husband, Julian, would bridge the growing chasm between them on their third anniversary. But as she neared the VIP suite, her world shattered. Julian's cold, detached voice sliced through the laughter, revealing he considered her nothing more than a "signature on a piece of paper" for a trust fund, mocking her changed appearance and respecting only another woman, Elena. The indifference in his tone was a physical blow, a brutal severance, not heartbreak. She gently placed the forgotten cake on the floor, leaving her wedding ring and a diamond necklace as she prepared to abandon a marriage built on lies. Her old life, once a prison of quiet suffering and constant humiliation, now lay in ruins around her. Three years of trying to be seen, to be loved, were erased by a few cruel words. Why had she clung to a man who saw her as a clause in a will, a "creature," not a wife? The shame and rage hardened her heart, freezing her tears. Returning to an empty penthouse, she packed a single battered suitcase, leaving behind every symbol of her failed marriage. With a burner phone, she dialed a number she hadn't touched in a decade, whispering, "Godfather, I'm ready to come home."

The roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand. Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn. She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back.

The rain assaulted the glass, mirroring the storm inside me. For three years, I, Vivian Sterling, played the perfect wife to Julian Kensington, draining my life. The antique clock ticked, a reminder of time lost. Then, I found it: a blonde hair on Julian's suit, reeking of Midnight Rose, and a text, ""Candy: You left your cufflinks on my nightstand. I'm already missing you."" My world shattered, revealing his betrayal. This was just the beginning. I exposed Julian's fraud and his family's violent plots, surviving assassination. But their malice stole my past. Then Alexander Vance, my protector, uncovered a terrifying truth: my birth mother was alive, held captive by a shadowy order. My life was a lie, built to shield me from my dangerous bloodline. I found strength and love with Alexander, the man who walked into fire for me. Yet, as I prepared to rescue my mother, a new life stirred within me, a secret threatening to complicate the impending war.

Her sister is marrying her ex. So she brings her best friend as her fake fiancé. What could possibly go wrong? Savannah Hart thought she was over Dean Archer-until her sister, Chloe announces she's marrying him. The same man Savannah never stopped loving. The man who left her heartbroken... and now belongs to her sister. A weeklong wedding in New Hope. One mansion full of guests. And a very bitter maid of honor. To survive it, Savannah brings a date-her charming, clean-cut best friend, Roman Blackwood. The one man who's always had her back. He owes her a favor, and pretending to be her fiancé? Easy. Until fake kisses start to feel real. Now Savannah's torn between keeping up the act... or risking everything for the one man she was never supposed to fall for.

The acrid smell of smoke still clung to Evelyn in the ambulance, her lungs raw from the penthouse fire. She was alive, but the world around her felt utterly destroyed, a feeling deepened by the small TV flickering to life. On it, her husband, Julian Vance, thousands of miles away, publicly comforted his mistress, Serena Holloway, shielding her from paparazzi after *her* "panic attack." Julian's phone went straight to voicemail. Alone in the hospital with second-degree burns, Evelyn watched news replays, her heart rate spiking. He protected Serena from camera flashes while Evelyn burned. When he finally called, he demanded she handle insurance, dismissing the fire; Serena's voice faintly heard. The shallow family ties and pretense of marriage evaporated. A searing injustice and cold anger replaced pain; Evelyn knew Julian had chosen to let her burn. "Evelyn Vance died in that fire," she declared, ripping out her IV. Armed with a secret fortune as "The Architect," Hollywood's top ghostwriter, she walked out. She would divorce Julian, reclaim her name, and finally step into the spotlight as an actress.

Zane and I were together for ten years. When he had no one, I stayed by his side, supporting his hockey career while believing at the end of all our struggles, I'll be his wife and the only one at his side. But after six years of dating, and four years of being his fiancée, not only did he leave me, but seven months later I receive an invitation... to his wedding! If that isn't bad enough, the month long wedding cruise is for couples only and requires a plus one. If Zane thinks breaking my heart left me too miserable to move on, he thought wrong! Not only did it make me stronger.. it made me strong enough to move on with his favourite bad boy hockey player, Liam Calloway.