Renan Gedorio

"Love, let's go to the park." I went down the stairs, filled with hope, and approached Cloud, hoping for a softer response. "Please, Luna, can you stop this? And don't call me 'love'-I don't love you. Ours is just an arranged marriage, and maybe you've forgotten that you're the reason Stella and I broke up." "Is it my fault, Cloud? I'm a victim too. Do you think I wanted to be tied to a man I don't even love? I'm struggling just as much as you are, Cloud." My voice trembled, pleading for his understanding. "Why don't you just leave me? Oh, right, because you won't have anyone to leech off of if you leave me." He laughed, but his every sneer was filled with anger, especially when our eyes met. "You have no right to say that, Cloud! I've never asked you for money!" I shouted back, holding onto what little dignity I had left. "I'm getting the divorce papers finalized today, and you need to sign them as soon as possible. I can't stand seeing your face every day." But the truth was, every word he said felt like a knife cutting into my heart. "C-Cloud, maybe we can still talk about this." I reached for his hand, still hoping there was a chance, but he pulled it away. "What's there to talk about? Isn't it clear that I don't want you and that I don't love you?" His voice thundered through the mansion, his words like a storm shattering my world. "Right, you don't love me." I laughed, but it was filled with bitterness. I looked at him, trying to hide my tears. "You know, Cloud, I wanted to stay by your side until you learned to love me. But I can't, because you've already given up on us. Yes, you don't love me because I'm the reason you and Stella broke up." "Cloud, I studied how to love you. I admit, at first, I didn't want to be with you. But I couldn't help it. Slowly, I started falling for you, and I foolishly thought that maybe one day, you'd learn to love me too. But no, I was wrong. I just wanted to be loved by you, Cloud, but you denied me even that. My chest felt heavy, and trembling, I stepped back." "You know, I dreamed of you loving me the way you loved Stella. But I guess that's impossible." I laughed again, but this time, it was empty, filled only with sadness and pain. "There's no point in forcing myself on you anymore. Maybe I've suffocated you so much that you're begging for your freedom. I'm sorry for being the reason you and Stella broke up. Don't worry, I'll talk to her." I forced a smile, even as I felt myself breaking inside. "Since your birthday is coming up, my gift to you is my signature on the divorce papers. Just call me when they're ready. I'll start packing." Once inside my room, I collapsed to my knees, letting the tears I'd been holding back flow freely. "Why does it always have to be like this? I just wanted to feel his love..." After I finished packing, I went down the stairs. I found Cloud in the living room, standing with his back to me. "Ah, Cloud, I'm leaving now. Just call me when the divorce papers are ready. Thank you for everything, Cloud." I forced a smile and walked out of the mansion, carrying the feelings I wanted to bury but couldn't let go of. "You're free now, Cloud. You can be with Stella. Even though it hurts, I'll endure it. I took a deep breath. This time, I won't beg for your love."

In my world, if you're weak, you're done for. I refused to be one of the weak, so I committed myself to intense training to become stronger. I pushed my limits, sharpened my skills, and believed that I could overcome any challenge. But in the end, I died... trying to help someone weak. Or at least, that's what I thought. When I opened my eyes, I found myself in an unfamiliar place. And soon, the truth hit me: I had been reincarnated.

"P-please d-don't," I said to him fearfully. "Uh huh, let me enjoy tonight, baby," he whispered in my ear. Tears streamed down my face as my body trembled from his presence. I never wanted to wear this to our prom. I didn't choose this. I should have refused back then so none of this would have happened. I knew he'd be angry seeing me in this outfit, but we ran out of time, so I couldn't argue anymore. "Please, Kairus, d-don't, s-stop, please," I begged him. "Shhh, don't test my patience, baby. You know what I can do, right?" he grinned. "N-no, p-please," I cried. "The more you beg, the more I want you," he smirked. He's Kairus Jei Styles, the son of the owner of my school, and he's the bad boy everyone fears. He has friends who are also feared at Styles University. He's the man who raped me and turned my four years in their school into a living hell. I'm Allysiah Quin De Villa, and I was 17 years old when Kairus took control of my life. He was 20 at the time, and I later discovered that he was a terrifying psycho bad boy.

"You are not my child. "You don't belong in this family! "trash!" "Gross!" "What a disappointment!" "Ugly and trash!" "You're disgusting!" "You don't belong in this school, b*tch!" I let out a deep sigh as I recalled the hurtful words they hurled at me. Whether at home or school, it was the same—nothing but pain was brought upon me. "Why is the world so unfair to me?" This was the question I always asked God. Why was I born into this world only to suffer? All I wanted was to be loved—to be happy—so why does it seem like everything is denied to me? I don't understand why it feels like the world is playing a cruel trick on me, intentionally keeping me from getting what I desire. I sighed again. "I hope in my next life, I will be happy." I forced a smile, hiding the deep pain that lingered within me. I could never have imagined that everyone would be so cruel to me, that I would experience such hardship. I placed my hands on the concrete while gazing at the vast surroundings and the students scattered around. I had been sitting here on the railing of our school building's rooftop for some time. This is where I come whenever I'm sad or when everyone bullies me. I sighed once more and looked up at the sky. "Lord, was I a bad person in my past life? Because the world is so cruel to me." Was I truly bad? Or is it just the people around me who are? No one treated me well. Everyone hates me. I have no friends or even anyone I can call 'family.' Do I deserve to live in this world? I placed my hands on the concrete again to support myself as I stood up. "I'm tired of everything. I want this to end." I looked down. My knees trembled as I realized how high up I was. If I fall from here, I will surely leave this world forever. "Maybe if I die, they will be happy," I whispered sadly as I closed my eyes, recalling the faces of all those who caused me so much pain. Tears streamed from my eyes. I felt trapped in a never-ending cycle of torment, reliving the painful experiences over and over again. I've had enough. I'm tired. Maybe it's time to rest... forever. "To end this pain is to finish everything," I whispered again, opening my eyes and slowly stepping onto the edge of the railing. "Goodby—" I was about to fall when suddenly someone forcefully grabbed my hand, causing me to land on top of someone's body. I recognized the familiar scent of his perfume. I quickly stood up as I realized who it was. It's him again... The guy who became my tormentor, making my life even more miserable. "You should have just let me go. Isn't that what you—and everyone—want? For me to disappear from this world," I said lifelessly. His face remained blank, showing no emotion as he looked at me. "Tsk!" I was startled when he suddenly closed the distance between us and spoke coldly into my ear, "If you want to die, wait for me to be the one... to end your life." Then, he immediately turned his back on me. I don't know why, but a surge of intense anger suddenly welled up in my heart because of what he said. The sadness I felt moments ago was instantly replaced with rage. My face suddenly became devoid of emotion. "Oh, is that so?" I said, colder than ice, which made him stop walking. "Alright," I continued, quickly removing my heeled shoe and throwing it at him with all my might, hitting him squarely on the head. I quickly walked toward him and confronted his shocked face. "Sorry, I didn't mean to," I said, cold as ice, but dripping with sarcasm. After saying that, I picked up my shoe and swiftly turned my back on him.

In a dark and cold room, someone was sitting in a corner, trembling intensely from the chilly breeze, accompanied by soft sobs and the quiet fall of tears. The door opened, revealing the person who had locked them in that room, though they didn't know why. Their face lifted, and their eyes immediately met, causing them to shrink further into the corner, continuing to cry. "Please, don't hurt me," they pleaded, their voice trembling with each word. Their body trembled even more as the person they feared slowly approached. The person lifted their face with a gentle left hand. Their face was pitiful, with slightly flushed cheeks and nose. Their innocent, delicate face, more beautiful than a woman's, was flushed from the cold, as they had developed a fever. The man could no longer bear it and immediately lifted them up. They were slightly startled but lacked the strength to resist, their body too weak from the fever. "Supremo..." they softly whispered before losing consciousness. Supremo quickly brought them to his room, immediately changing and treating them, laying them on his soft bed. He gazed at the innocent face of the young one, and only one thought crossed his mind: "I will mark you as mine."

I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing. During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me. I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst. She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side. "Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house." I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip. My heart went completely dead. So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate. I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table. "I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today."

On our third anniversary, my husband canceled our dinner, claiming a sudden work emergency. I tracked his phone to an exclusive French restaurant, only to find him tenderly fastening a blessed bracelet—one I had flown across the world to get for him—onto his college ex-girlfriend's wrist. The sheer shock triggered a violent placental abruption. Bleeding out in my car just across the street, I frantically called his number. Through the window, I watched him glance at his screen, frown in annoyance, and press decline to focus on his lover. While I was wheeled into a freezing operating room for an emergency C-section utterly alone, he took his mistress back to our marital bed. He didn't even bother to check if I was alive, completely oblivious that our premature daughter was fighting for her life in the NICU. I soon discovered our entire marriage was a sham. He had used my family's wealth to save his company, and now he was trading me to secure a massive business deal with his ex's father. The man I loved didn't exist; he only saw me as a disposable asset. "I'm going to make him wish he had never been born." After secretly securing my baby in a private retreat, I ordered a medical-grade silicone pregnancy belly to hide my flat stomach. I stepped back into our penthouse, ready to burn his precious empire to the ground.

For three years, Cali Sullivan abandoned her brilliant tech career to be the quiet, accommodating wife of billionaire Halsey Donovan. But on her thirtieth birthday, she returned to their London mansion only to find it empty. The housekeeper, looking at her with deep pity, revealed that Halsey had taken his female friend, Brittaney, out shopping to celebrate her birthday instead. He had even taken their young daughter, Lily, with them. When Cali called him, Halsey coldly dismissed her, his attention entirely on Brittaney's bright laughter in the background. The crushing blow came the next morning when Cali stood outside Lily's bedroom and overheard her own daughter's innocent wish. "I wish Auntie Brittaney could be my new mommy. I think Daddy would like that, too." Later that afternoon, Cali saw them through the window of a private club. Halsey was wiping a smudge from Lily's face with a tender focus he never showed his wife, while Brittaney casually fed him cake. They looked like the perfect, happy family. All of Cali's desperate love and sacrifices felt like a cruel joke. She had been entirely erased from her own family. In that moment, the agonizing pain just stopped, replaced by a cold, absolute clarity. Cali drafted a divorce agreement waiving every cent of his wealth, left her platinum wedding rings on the nightstand, and booked a one-way flight back to New York. She was no longer Mrs. Donovan; it was time to get her real name back.

As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole. I begged him for help, my vision blurring. But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background. "Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again." He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm. I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube. Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry. Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled. "You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up." He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research. I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym. They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive. They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity. I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding. I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it. Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house. The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born.

I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector. That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world. The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor. The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist. Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared. "Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb. Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen. "Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back." I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe.

I woke up from a coma in the hospital, universally condemned as the vicious daughter who pushed the beloved fake heiress, Georgina, down the stairs. My ruthless billionaire brother, Angelo, stood over my bed with cold eyes, ready to destroy me for hurting his precious sister. But as I looked at him, a terrifying prophecy from my coma flooded my brain. Our entire family was doomed. In the original timeline, Georgina would team up with corporate rivals to bankrupt the company, frame Angelo, and send him to federal prison, while our parents would abandon me to die miserably. Lying there, I didn't dare speak. I just desperately cursed my idiot brother in my head. "This stupid brother is still yelling at me for that fake heiress. He doesn't even know he's going to be framed and sent to prison next month!" I just wanted to stay quiet, let them ruin themselves, and run away from this toxic family. But strangely, Angelo didn't strangle me. Instead, his attitude took a shocking turn. He abruptly fired the driver plotting to kill him, destroyed the abusive fiancé of a family ally, and publicly humiliated Georgina at a high-society gala. He even shielded me from our abusive parents, declaring to the world that I was the only sister he would ever protect. I was completely terrified and confused. Why was the tyrant brother suddenly acting like a protective beast? It wasn't until he flawlessly crushed a massive corporate attack using the exact financial secrets I had just complained about in my mind that a horrifying realization hit me. He could hear my inner thoughts!

A week before my wedding, I went to the airport parking garage to surprise my fiancé with a luxury watch. Instead, I caught him having sex in his car with my best friend and maid of honor. Devastated and desperate to forget, I went to an exclusive club and blew my $50,000 trust fund to buy a one-night stand with a gorgeous stranger. But the nightmare was just beginning. At work, my cheating best friend stole my hard-earned promotion, and my ex shamelessly defended her. Worse, the escort I had paid for sex turned out to be the ruthless new CEO of my airline. He tormented me on a flight to Paris. When I was robbed of my passport and wallet on the freezing streets, he forced me to be his gala date just to get my life back. But the ultimate trap was waiting for me in New York. A secretly taken photo of me leaving the CEO's penthouse leaked on the company forum. "I knew she got that Paris trip for a reason." My ex and my former best friend led the charge in the comments, framing me as a shameless gold digger who slept her way to the top. I was stripped of my flying credentials, suspended from the job I loved, and publicly humiliated. I didn't understand why the CEO was playing these cruel games, or who had orchestrated this perfect trap to ruin my life. Standing outside the airport with my career in ashes, I realized crying wouldn't save me. I wiped my tears, accepted my mother's invitation to a high-society mixer, and prepared to make everyone who set me up pay the price.

I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn. Beside me lay Ezra Gardner-my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers. He didn't offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement. "Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins." He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend's apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I'd spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes. I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe. "Showtime, Mrs. Gardner." Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend's face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down.

She woke up in a stranger's bed, in a stranger's body, with two lifetimes screaming inside her head. Eliza Solis-overweight, acne-scarred, trailer-park poor-remembers a brother who dragged her to a party for a "chance." But another voice, colder and sharper, remembers a different life: Nyx. Weapon. Asset. Ghost. Now she's the bride of Julian Malone, a decorated soldier from one of America's most powerful dynasties-and she's the target of a family that wants to erase her. Her new mother-in-law freezes her accounts. Her husband despises her. Cousins spike her makeup with hallucinogens. And behind closed doors, the Malones plot to commit her to a psychiatric facility and make her disappear for good. They think she's trash. They think she's broken. They have no idea that the woman they're trying to bury is a trained intelligence operative who can pick locks, break into safes, and reconstruct a crime scene from a single strand of hair. Eliza doesn't just want to survive. She wants to watch their empire burn. From a trailer park to a fortress of old money-she's the weapon they never saw coming.

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.