Susu Pearl

The air froze as his hazel looking eyes and the perfect curve of his brows which looked full yet curvy seemed to penetrate everywhere. His golden hair was short but bangs were dangling on both sides of his face. His lips, more beautiful and luscious than that of a woman, seem to make him the perfect description of the god of beauty, if there was any. Xavier Arceli, the youngest and most ruthless multi-billionaire. But behind that dangerous beauty lay a desperate man who had just one wish in his life. That was to get an heir to continue his family's bloodline. " I want her!" The icy voice said, his eyes hooked on the petite girl. Only she could carry his heir... Shantel's world came crumbling down from a bumpy encounter with the ruthless billionaire, Xavier, who was desperately searching for a child surrogate. Left with no choice, Shantel agreed for the sake of her mother's treatment. "Mum, I'll make sure you will be alright okay?" She said to her mother, forcing out a smile. Her frail looking mother was lying closed eyes. Her skin was looking pale and her lips were pink and cracked. She was determined to take the offer, but what she didn't know was that she was going to have a one night stand with the same man. A one night stand that led to pregnancy and her life hanging by the thread. Who wanted her dead? Secrets and hidden jealousy sprang up as Shantel tried to find out the truth. Yet everything went blank after her abduction. She lost all her memories yet she emerged as the heiress of the powerful Wesley family and enemy to Xavier's empire. What would happen when Xavier realised the woman he had been searching for was the long lost granddaughter of his enemy and not just that... That little Wesley heir looks so much like him! Xavier was determined to find out the truth six years ago. However, he found more than the truth as secrets about his childlessness were revealed. And something else was growing in his heart, too.

After an unknowingly one night stand, Reedah was rejected by the Alpha King who happened to be her mate. Weeks later she discovered she was pregnant and ran away from the pack in order to save her baby and live a peaceful life but life has its own way of playing tricks. That night as she ran away from her pack, she heard someone groaning in pain, the smell of blood mixed with a manly aura attracted her. Was she to ignore or fall under the influence again? This was not a decision for her to make, since the moon goddess had already arranged everything for her. Reedah rushed out to help the unknown man who had just been shot by some hunters who were chasing him. Reedah helped him escape and she nursed him back to life. Next morning, Reedah realized he was her mate, not just her mate, but a dragon mate. This time Heron, the dragon mate, was willing to accept her even when he felt another living being inside of her. He knew she was pregnant but he still wanted her to be his. What happens when Alpha Jasper finally realized he had lost his precious mate and needed her back? Would Heron let Reedah go when Jasper comes back for his mate? What happens when Reedah decides to make her own decision?

To revenge herself on her unfaithful fiancé Kevin, Isidora hides her striking beauty behind a plain disguise, and targets his uncle - the most formidable man Kevin fears. After one reckless night, Isidora leaves cash as payment and says lightly, "You were good last night." She tries to leave quietly, but is pulled into his arms. "You think you can walk away after this?" he says, his tone low and possessive. Cedrick is a feared, untouchable titan on Wall Street - elegant, aloof, and completely uninterested in women. Not even the most beautiful socialites in the city can catch his eye. When gossip spreads that he was seen pressing a woman against a wall and kissing her fiercely, no one believes it. When the rumors name Isidora, the crowd scoffs. He rejects even the most beautiful women, so why would he notice a plain girl like her? All doubt disappears when they see the dignified Cedrick drop to one knee to help Isidora with her shoe, pleading softly for just one kiss. When Kevin finally sees Isidora's true beauty and begs for forgiveness. But Cedrick kicks him out at once, slams a marriage certificate on the table, and says sharply. "Call her Aunt."

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.

I was Landon Mercer's secret girlfriend and loyal assistant for four years. I thought my absolute devotion would eventually win his heart. But he casually announced his engagement to a wealthy heiress, reminding me I was just a convenient nobody from an orphanage. When I got trapped in a horrific car crash and begged him to call an ambulance, he just hung up on me, annoyed that my bleeding was ruining his romantic getaway. He even blackmailed me with my orphanage's land lease, forcing me to attend his engagement party as a prop. At the party, his elite family and friends brutally humiliated me. They deliberately crushed my broken arm, poured red wine over my head, and kicked me into a freezing pond. When Landon finally pulled me out, he didn't care that I was suffocating and turning blue. "Are you out of your mind? You come out here and cause a scene during my engagement party?" He threw a stack of cash at my shivering body, furious that I had embarrassed him in front of his wealthy guests. Looking at the hundred-dollar bills floating in the muddy water, my four years of foolish love completely died. To him, I wasn't even human; I was just a cheap toy he could abuse and pass around. I didn't cry, and I didn't beg. I dragged my soaked, battered body into a car and headed straight to the penthouse of his biggest billionaire rival. It was time to burn Landon Mercer's world to the ground.

The Wellington beef sat cold on the mahogany table, a graying monument to three years of wasted devotion. It was my birthday and our anniversary, but my husband, Hamilton McKee, didn't even look at the gift I’d spent months knitting. "Our marriage is a transaction," he said, his voice cutting like a scalpel. "Stop trying to make it a romance novel. I just need you to stop existing in my space for five minutes." Then his phone buzzed with a call from Cuba, the ex-girlfriend he never truly left. His cold mask shattered into frantic concern, a look he had never once given me. "I'm coming," he whispered to her, sprinting for the door without a backward glance at the wife he was leaving behind. I chased him into the freezing Boston night, only to be swarmed by predatory paparazzi. As Hamilton’s Maybach roared away, a heavy camera bag slammed into my shoulder. I slipped on the black ice, my skull hitting a granite gate pillar with a sickening crack. Warm blood trickled down my neck, and as the world tilted, the fog in my brain finally cleared. I wasn't the penniless orphan from Southie he thought I was. Images of sterile operating rooms, complex sutures, and a billion-dollar inheritance flooded back—along with the memory of the car wreck three years ago where I was the one who pulled Hamilton from the flames, not Cuba. How could I have spent three years begging for scraps of affection from a man who didn't even recognize his own savior? Why did I let a fraud steal my life while I played the role of a submissive shadow? When I woke up in the hospital, the trembling girl was gone. I ripped the IV from my arm and stared at the man who had come back only to demand I stay out of his way. I didn't cry. I didn't beg. I simply handed him a piece of paper with one word written in the sharp, confident script of a woman who owned half the city: DIVORCE. "Sign it, Hamilton," I said, my voice like ice. "Because by tomorrow, I’m not just leaving you—I’m taking the McKee empire with me."

Keely returned to her Manhattan penthouse a day early, expecting the loving billionaire husband who had just told her how much he missed her. Instead, the scent of cheap vanilla perfume led her to the guest room, where she found Haden tangled in the sheets with his timid, soft-spoken secretary. To the world, Haden was the flawless, devoted partner. He would even beat a man to a bloody pulp at a high-society gala just for insulting her, violently claiming he was protecting his wife. But behind his golden-retriever facade lay a narcissistic monster. While begging for her affection and making her breakfast, he was secretly draining their marital assets into offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands. Keely had to swallow her disgust, forcing a perfect smile as she played the clueless, dependent trophy wife he wanted her to be. It made her physically sick. She couldn't understand how the man who looked into the camera with eyes full of love just last night could be the same thief plotting to leave her with nothing. Was his violent, suffocating obsession with her just a sick cover for his betrayal? But Haden didn't know his "helpless" wife was actually the ruthless CTO of a tech empire. She had already hacked the home surveillance and traced the missing funds, ready to make him bleed. Then, her private investigator called with a medical report that pushed her revenge to the edge. "Mrs. Jones, Darlene Sutton is six weeks pregnant."

I was the "perfect" fiancée for Harrison Vincent—regal, silent, and low-maintenance. For two years, I suppressed my career as a forensic accountant to be the "safe" choice that polled well with his family’s shareholders. But at a high-society gala, I found him in a VIP lounge with a socialite wrapped around him. He told her I was just a "boring art piece display stand" he had to drag around until his trust fund was unlocked. I didn't scream or make a scene. I mentally filed a "bad debt" report, tossed my emerald engagement ring into a glass of stale champagne, and walked out of his life. That same night, I found myself in a dark jazz club bathroom, using a strip of my velvet dress to stop the bleeding of a mysterious man with a gunshot wound and eyes like grey flint. The fallout was immediate. Harrison blocked my credit cards, assuming I’d crawl back once I couldn't afford rent. His mother called me a "nobody" while simultaneously begging me to handle the family's medical emergencies because they were too panicked to function. They treated me like a tool they could discard and pick up at will, never realizing I had already moved my things into a cramped Brooklyn apartment. I couldn't understand why they thought I was still their puppet, or why a black Maybach began following me through the city streets. I had saved a stranger's life and ended a toxic engagement, yet the air around me felt heavier and more dangerous than ever. The truth came out at the hospital when the most feared man in the city stepped out of the shadows. It was the man from the bathroom—Collis Vincent, the ruthless head of the family. He didn't just humiliate Harrison; he took my hand in front of everyone and made a chilling declaration. "Harrison is a fool to have let you go, Helena. Your arrangement with him is terminated. From now on, you'll be working with me."

Five years ago, my fiancé and my adopted sister framed me, took my family trust, and cut my car's brake lines, leaving me with a shattered body in the freezing rain. Now, struggling as a stunt double to fund my revenge, I risked my life to save a billionaire's trapped son from a locked room. But instead of gratitude, I became the billionaire's prey. Jaidyn Miles, the apex predator of Wall Street, investigated my crippling debts and threw a five-million-dollar contract in my face. "You possess the single most valuable asset in this transaction. Your face." He demanded I dye my hair jet black, wear specific white dresses, and use a bespoke perfume. He wanted me to be the living, breathing doll of his dead wife. I refused to be a billionaire's prop and walked away. But Jaidyn immediately bought the entire movie studio where I had just bled for a life-changing role, threatening to destroy hundreds of jobs and my only chance at a career if I didn't submit. Why was I always just a tool to these wealthy, arrogant men? First a placeholder for a family trust, now a ghost for a dead woman? I grabbed his contract and a pen, my eyes cold. I wouldn't be broken again. "Three months, and you don't interfere with my shooting schedule." I signed my name. I would take his five million, and I would use it to bury the people who ruined my life five years ago.

Seven years. A three-million-dollar contract. A heart broken into pieces. Serena Powell was never more than a ghost in her own home. Hired by a billionaire to heal his broken son, she spent seven years playing the role of a devoted wife and mother, hiding the jagged scar on her palm,a reminder of the night she saved Victor's life. She thought her love had finally overwritten the contract. She was wrong. When Victor's "true love," Eliza, returns with a child of her own, the fairy tale dissolves. Overnight, Serena is branded an outsider. Her husband treats her like a servant, and her son,the boy she raised as her own,tells her to "just die already" so Eliza can take her place. Accused of a crime she didn't commit and slapped by the man she sacrificed everything for, Serena finally realizes the truth: In a world where feelings come with a price tag, she's already paid too much. Now, the divorce papers are signed, the suitcase is packed, and a prestigious design firm in Glonia is calling her name. Serena is done being a substitute. But as she walks out the door, Victor is about to learn that some things,once broken,can never be repaired. Especially when he realizes he didn't just lose a contract... he lost the only woman who ever truly loved him.

My mother called me a defective product and insisted I marry Preston Finch, a man who treated our first date like a corporate merger. During our lunch, Preston demanded I clean his car like a servant, his arrogance snapping the last thread of my patience. I threw my iced coffee right into his lap, sending the cafe into a stunned silence as he screamed insults about my background and the cost of his designer pants. My mother didn't care about the abuse; she only cared that I had lost a "catch," calling me an embarrassment and threatening my future while my flower shop faced imminent foreclosure. Trapped by debt and my family’s relentless cruelty, I felt like a drowning woman with nowhere left to turn. Just as I hit rock bottom, Connor Powers—my brother's old roommate—stepped in, his icy gaze promising a brutal end to my misery. "Let's get married," he said, offering a cold, calculated contract that would shield me from my family forever. I signed the papers, unaware that I had just tethered my life to a man whose world was far more dangerous than I could have ever imagined.

Harlow had stage IV lung cancer and only three months left to live. Her only hope was for her billionaire ex, Ezra, to take in their deaf four-year-old daughter. But Ezra despised her. Five years ago, Harlow's sister Katherine framed her for corporate theft, sending her to a brutal state prison. Ezra believed the lies completely. To him, little Clementine was just another man's bastard. When Harlow knelt on his floor begging for a DNA test, he looked at her with pure disgust. On the day the results were revealed in front of both their families, Harlow thought the truth would finally save her child. Instead, Ezra threw the lab report at her. Secretly manipulated by Katherine's wealth, the paper stated Ezra was excluded as the biological father. "You are a lying, manipulative parasite, and you are done!" Ezra screamed. Katherine offered her a fake pity check, while Harlow's own father cursed her as a shameless stain on their legacy. Harlow stared at the forged paper, her world spinning. She couldn't understand how her own family could be so monstrous, or how Ezra could be so blindly cruel to watch his true daughter be thrown into the streets. The suffocating despair violently ruptured her diseased lungs. A horrific spray of dark blood erupted from her mouth, soaking the fake DNA report and Ezra's crisp white shirt, before she collapsed lifelessly at his feet.