A single letter. A mistaken identity. A dangerous obsession. When billionaire heir Adlan Roderick falls in love at first sight with a mystery woman at a bar, he knows he has to find her. Weeks later, he finally sends a heartfelt letter, only for it to land in the wrong hands. Laura George, a struggling young lady, receives the note instead of her neighbour, Lara George; the woman Adlan actually met. Intrigued by the passionate words, Laura somehow steps into the role of the woman Adlan desires. As their whirlwind romance begins, secrets start to unravel. The real Lara George is closer than Adlan realizes, living just rooms away but when the truth comes out, the obsession turns twisted. What happens when Adlan discovers he's been loving the wrong woman? Will Lara fight for the love meant for her? Or will Laura refuse to let go of a man she was never meant to have? In a city of mistaken identities, love is never simple but obsession? That's where things get dangerous.
Laura
The diner was quiet. Too quiet.
The only light came from the dim glow of the kitchen gas, flickering like it could go out at any moment. The usual buzz of life was gone, the air thick with an unnatural stillness.
I sighed and turned the gas off.
"Hey, Peter. I'm clocking out now," I called over my shoulder, untying my apron.
No response.
I frowned. He had just walked into the pantry a few seconds ago.
"Peter?" I called again, but the silence stretched.
A prickle of unease crawled down my spine as I walked toward the pantry. Pushing the door open, I stepped inside, my breath catching in my throat as my heart slammed against my ribs.
I froze.
Peter was sprawled on the floor, lifeless eyes staring straight ahead, blood pooling around him.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
My limbs felt heavy, my mind blank but then, the dam broke.
"Peter!"
I dropped to my knees, my hands trembling as I reached out to his face. His skin was pale, unmoving. The thick scent of iron filled my nostrils, and I whimpered, lowering my head to his chest, straining to hear something, anything.
Nothing.
"No," I whispered, stumbling back, my entire body shaking.
Tears blurred my vision as I scrambled for my phone, fingers fumbling to dial for help but as I raised the device to my ear, something odd struck me.
The smell.
I sniffled, lowering my phone, and bringing my hand closer to my nose, it didn't smell like blood.
It smelled like Ketchup.
What the hell?
My heart still hammering, I wiped my tears and rushed back to the pantry, my legs wobbly.
Peter was... on his feet.
I stopped dead in my tracks, staring at him like he had just risen from the grave.
"Hey, Laura," he greeted casually, as if he hadn't just been lying in a puddle of fake blood.
My eyes swept over him, from head to toe, my body still in fight-or-flight mode.
"What... the fuck?"
He stood there, unmoving, until a grin split his face. Then he burst out laughing-a loud, hysterical laugh that sent a fresh wave of shock through me.
"What the hell just happened?" I demanded, my voice sharp with anger and confusion. "What kind of sick joke is this?"
Peter took a step toward me, still chuckling, but I stepped back, putting space between us.
"You should've seen your face," he wheezed, barely able to get the words out.
I shook my head, trying to process the last sixty seconds. "You were dead just now, Peter! How the hell are you standing?"
He smirked. "It was barbecue sauce. Mixed with ketchup."
I blinked. "What?"
"The blood. It wasn't real."
I stared at him, my jaw tightening. "You faked your death?"
He shrugged, looking far too pleased with himself. "I was bored. No customers, no action. Thought I'd liven things up."
Except you played dead, you absolute lunatic.
"And you thought that would be fun?" I snapped, my hands clenching at my sides.
"Laura, come on. Look at me. I'm dying from laughter." He let out another bark of laughter, doubling over.
My patience snapped.
"You're an asshole, Peter. A lunatic. This is why no one wants to talk to you, hang out with you, or even work the late-night shift with you. Because you're a weirdo!" The words spilled out before I could stop them.
His laughter stopped instantly.
The amusement drained from his face as he stared at the floor. Without a word, he turned away and grabbed a mop, silently cleaning up his mess.
A sharp gust of wind blew through the diner as the front door swung open.
"Hello," a voice called out. "I'd like a box of pizza. No pepperoni, light on the cheese."
I exhaled sharply, rubbing my temples. Fucking fantastic.
****
Later that night, as I made my way to the kitchen to fix myself a cup of tea, something slid under the door.
An envelope.
I frowned, bending down to pick it up. It was thick, and expensive to the touch, and the ink on the front was bold and precise.
Letter to Laura George.
My name.
A strange feeling curled in my stomach as I unlocked the door and peeked outside. The hallway was empty. No footsteps. No lingering presence.
I tilted my head. Was this even for me?
Without much thought, I took the envelope upstairs, hopping up the steps two at a time until I reached my bedroom. I threw myself onto the bed and held up the letter.
"Alright, let's see what we've got here, Laura George," I muttered to myself, managing a crooked smile but as my eyes skimmed the first line, my entire body tensed.
"With the memories of that night still lingering in my head, I write to you..."
My grip tightened.
"That night? What night?"
I cleared my throat. "Uh... excuse me?" I muttered to no one in particular, before continuing.
"With the memories of that night still lingering in my head, I write to you about how impactful our encounter has been on me-positively, I should add.
You were like a dandelion in the midst of daisies. Among so many beautiful women, you stood out. Your presence struck me like lightning, making my tux feel as hot and suffocating as my bowtie.
Must I also commend your dress? The way its straps clung to your shoulders, how the colour illuminated your skin? But this is not flattery. These words are the truth, written from the depths of my heart to the woman reading this letter.
Another thought that refuses to leave my mind is the way your eyes glittered, the softness of your smile. The way your voice slid through your throat and spilled from your lips-effortless, captivating.
I wonder if that night holds any meaning for you the way it does for me. Perhaps it is foolish of me to hope, but still, I do."
I stopped reading, my mind spinning.
This wasn't real. This couldn't be real.
"This is most definitely not meant for me."
I racked my brain, trying to recall the last time I had gone on a date or met a man who could be this smitten.
Nothing.
Unless, of course, we were counting that one time I got locked in the science lab with my lab partner.
Which... no.
I flipped the envelope over, hoping for a clue. A name. A return address. Anything.
Nothing.
Just my name. Letter to Laura George.
"But this is my name..."
I was baffled. Completely lost.
Still, I resumed reading, despite the nagging feeling that I was intruding on something meant for someone else.
"You may wonder why I am writing this to you. I have asked myself the same question.
Perhaps this was foolish, but this was the only means of communication I could think of since you gave me only your name. We met once, and it was brief, but I cannot shake the feeling that this was something rare. Something real.
I have tried to silence my thoughts, but my heart insists this is love at first sight.
However, I leave the choice to you. You may ignore my heart, or you may do me the honor of contacting me through my number: +1 (573) 222-3322.
I hope to hear from you soon... or whenever you feel so inclined.
Yours."
I let the letter slip from my fingers and stared blankly at the ceiling.
"I wish it was for me," I whispered to myself.
I wished someone had written those words about me.
A strange, lonely ache settled in my chest, but I quickly shoved it down.
"Whatever," I muttered. "I'll just tell him he got the wrong Laura George and go back to my perfectly uneventful, lonely life."
In the midst of betrayal and survival, Lyra, a 25-year-old half-human and half-werewolf, strives for freedom. Along the line of survival and the quest for revenge, she was caught up in the midst of admiration from Fenrir, Ian, and Connor. Will love affect her thirst for revenge and stop her thrive for survival?
Mia's life is spiraling out of control. Abandoned by her mother, bullied mercilessly at school, and thrown into a household of four dangerously attractive stepbrothers, she's desperate to find her footing. "You look absolutely edible," Sean growled, his eyes devouring her. Mia felt a rush of heat between her thighs "Oh, you think so?" she purred, turning to face him. She reached out and traced her fingers along the ribbon that wrapped around his waist. "Well, I've been waiting for this all day. And I'm starving." Sean's smile grew into a predatory grin. "Then let us feast," he said, and in a flash, the ribbon fell away, exposing his rock-hard length. He stepped closer, and Mia felt the warmth of his breath on her face as he whispered, "You're going to take every inch of us tonight, aren't you?" With Rolex's teasing smirk and Sean's quiet, hot stares, Mia doesn't know where to turn-or who to trust. Every glance, every touch leaves her breathless, confused, and craving more than she should. Will Mia survive their games, or will she lose herself in a dangerous world of secrets, seduction, and forbidden desire? One house. Four brothers. Endless temptation.
Betrayed by her mate and sister on the eve of her wedding, Makenna was handed to the ruthless Lycan Princes as a lover, her indifferent father ignoring her plight. Determined to escape and seek revenge, she captured the interest of the three Lycan princes, who desired her exclusively amid many admirers. This complicated her plans, trapping her and making her a rival to the future Lycan queen. Entwined in jealousy and vindictiveness, could Makenna achieve her vengeance in the intricate dance with the three princes?
Janice, the long-forgotten legitimate heiress, made her way back to her family, pouring her heart into winning their hearts. Yet, she had to relinquish her very identity, her academic credentials, and her creative works to her foster sister. In return for her sacrifices, she found no warmth, only deeper neglect. Resolute, Janice vowed to cut off all emotional bonds. Transformed, she now stood as a master of martial arts, adept in eight languages, an esteemed medical expert, and a celebrated designer. With newfound resolve, she declared, "From this day forward, no one in this family shall cross me."
Kara Martin was known as Miss Perfect. She was a beauty with good personality and successful career. Unfortunately, her life changed at one night. She was accused of adultery, losing her job, and abandoned by her fiance. The arrogant man who slept with her did not want to take responsibility. He even threatened to kill her if they met again. What's worse, Kara was pregnant with twins and she chose to give birth to them. Four and a half years later, Kara returned to work at a large company. As the secretary, she would frequently face their notorious CEO. Kara thought it wouldn't be a problem, but as it turned out ... the CEO was the father of the twins!
Rumors said that Lucas married an unattractive woman with no background. In the three years they were together, he remained cold and distant to Belinda, who endured in silence. Her love for him forced her to sacrifice her self-worth and her dreams. When Lucas' true love reappeared, Belinda realized that their marriage was a sham from the start, a ploy to save another woman's life. She signed the divorce papers and left. Three years later, Belinda returned as a surgical prodigy and a maestro of the piano. Lost in regret, Lucas chased her in the rain and held her tightly. "You are mine, Belinda."
Once upon a time, there were two kingdoms once at peace. The kingdom of Salem and the kingdom of Mombana... Until the day, the king of Mombana passed away and a new monarch took over, Prince Cone. Prince Cone, has always been hungry for more power and more and more. After his coronation, he attacked Salem. The attack was so unexpected, Salem never prepared for it. They were caught off guard. The king and Queen was killed, the prince was taken into slavery. The people of Salem that survived the war was enslaved, their land taken from them. Their women were made sex slaves. They lost everything, including their land. Evil befall the land of Salem in form of Prince Cone, and the prince of Salem in his slavery was filled with so much rage. The prince of Salem, Prince Lucien swore revenge. 🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳 Ten years later, thirty-years old Lucien and his people raided a coup and escaped slavery. They went into hiding and recuperated. They trained day and night under the leadership of the fearless and cold Lucien who was driven with everything in him to get back their land, and take Mombana land too. It took them five years before they ambushed and attacked Mombana. They killed Prince Cone and reclaimed everything. As they screamed out their victory, Lucien's eyes found and pinned the proud princess of Mombana. Princess Danika. The daughter of Prince Cone. As Lucien stared at her with the coldest eyes anyone can ever possess, he felt victory for the first time. He walked to the princess with the slave collar he'd won for ten years rattling in his hand as he walked. He reached close to her and with a swift movement, he collared her neck. Then, he tilted her chin up, staring into the bluest eyes and the most beautiful face ever created, he gave her a cold smile. "You are my acquisition. My slave. My sex slave. My property. I will pay you in spades, everything you and your father ever did to me and my people." He stated curtly. Pure hatred, coldness and victory was the only emotion on his face. .