Anxiety Attack

Billionaires

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."

Werewolf

Countless werewolf alliance spreads began to seem everywhere. The mages also because the hunters swiftly killed the werewolves who had began to attack the various weak humans. Meanwhile, the key to all or any of this is often Rumi's lover, William. Will they achieve killing the savage werewolves? Or

Romance

TRTS #1 Noah Clayton He's one of the best young cardiologist in New York. He's a genius and he handled his patience really well. Despite taking care of people's heart, he has a cold heart and attitude. It was hard to reach him that his family has to make a move for him. Jaclyn Rae Rae Motor Indu

Adventure

Imagine that on the way to work you dozed off in a minibus. You were awakened by screams of horror, and God knows what is going on around you—cars on the avenue explode one after another, people burn like candles. And above all this chaos and death in the sky, a mysterious worship of a triangular sh