The Alphas' Younger Sister's Rebellion

Stinging heart

Nicole was the only one she knew that had the guts to call Jordan at this hour. The sound of the water in the bathroom stopped. Jordan came out wrapped in a bath towel. He wiped his hand and picked up the phone. Ivelle didn't know what the person from the other end of the phone said. She saw Jordan frowned slightly and he heard him say, "Nicole, don't fool around!" With that, he hung up the phone and was ready to change his clothes and leave. In the past, Ivelle might have pretended to turn a blind eye but now, she grabbed Jordan and begged him softly, "Is it okay if you will not go tonight?" Jordan frowned and his face showed some coldness and displeasure. "Are you beginning to be presumptuous?" It was cold and ironic. Ivelle was stunned. For a moment, she was not able to stop herself from laughing. She looked at him and said, "Tomorrow is Grandpa's funeral. Even if you can't let her go, shouldn't you have a sense of propriety?" "Threats?" He squinted his black eyes and grabbed her jaw in a low, cold voice. "Ivelle, you've grown up."

Atasha Alpha's New Slave

A rise in the temperature, the whole body seemed to be lighten by flame. Bane Reed staggered to open the room306 and swiftly fell into the bed. Although the alcohol had almost paralysed her brain, there was still one thought in her mind that could not be taken away by those men. At that moment there was a heavy breathing responding in the dark room. "Get out of here!" Bane Reed was losing her mind when she heard the footsteps outside. 'Don't! Don't take me away, I can't go out. ' Bane Reed knew exactly what would happen to her when she was taken away by the hooligans. She rushed at the man, holding on tightly to his clothes, saying, "Help me, please. I need you to call the police." "Let go!" "No, please." "Get out of here!" There was a trace of anger in the man's voice. The wisp of reason in Bane's mind was going to be gone. All she knew was that she would not let go of the man's clothes. There was a mixed look on the man's face as he listened to the approaching footsteps outside. The men had been chasing him, and had done such wicked things as drugging him. He was on the point of losing his mind, and this woman had to come to him at this very moment. 'It's not my fault, but don't regret it! Bane had no idea what was going to happen next. Her only conscious moment was to grab the man in front of her, until a sharp pain from behind woke her up a bit. Bane pushed her capers frantically, to no avail, her voice so hoarse that she could not make a sound. The man swore under his breath, obviously not expecting the woman to be a stranger. "I'm sorry, I'll be responsible for you."

Nothing's gonna change my love for you

"President, Madam has left. But before she left, she asked me to give this to you." Bill said and handed the documents to Waylon. Waylon Gray looked at it and saw that it was their divorce agreement. He looked at the file in his hand with a mocking and contemptuous expression on his face. He then thought about what trick does Alena Wright wanted to play. "Don't worry about her." Waylon threw the divorce agreement aside with disdain, and the mocking expression on his face became stronger. Then he said, "I want to see what tricks she is going to play!" After Alena Wright returned to the villa, she packed up her things. Since she has decided to divorce Waylon Gray, she knew that she was no longer eligible to live there. Fortunately, she has already agreed with her girlfriend Darcy Harrington in advance. Darcy has a house in the city center, and she was now training abroad and will not be able to return until a month later. That would be enough for her to live in her house for a period of time. After living in Darcy's house, Alena was ready to find a job. Alena studied jewelry design, so she sent her resume to several well-known jewelry design companies. Within two days, she received an interview notice from the Cohen Group. Alena cleaned up and went directly to the Cohen Group. As soon as she walked through the hall of Cohen Group, she saw a familiar figure. Alena suddenly stiffened, and her face was pale. Not far away, the door of the elevator was slowly closing, and the person in the elevator that she saw was actually Waylon Gray. She was confused and wondered why he was there. The building was for Cohen Group, not Monarch International Group. When she submitted her resume, she deliberately avoided the company under Waylon's name. Now she was really wondering why she would see him there. She then thought that it may be just a coincidence. Alena was a little flustered and forced down the bitterness in her heart. Then she realized that her relationship with him was now over, and they have nothing to do with each other anymore.

Super Rich Man

As a successor to the most mysterious family in the United States, Leon has to go through a set of trials before inheriting his family wealth according to a group of rules. It has five stages. Since he was only three years old, Leon's father has planned on raising him as a tough person. He invited masters of diverse expertise to train Leon in many abilities, starting from arts, medicine, feng shui, ancient foreseeing techniques, self-defense, and ancient antiquities. Four years ago, when the first phase of the exam started, Leon was sent to live in Oregon's harsh city without a single penny. Leon also wasn't allowed to use the different expertise taught to him by the experts to train his willpower and experience the life of an ordinary man. Leon understood his father's goodwill. His family did all this to avoid unwanted circumstances; even simultaneously, they are also grooming his cousins as potential replacements.

My CEO Dad

"Even if I want to get laid, I must find a man who likes me." Maybe it was because of alcohol. Veronica Parker just walked a few steps, when suddenly, she staggered and bumped into a man's arms. A slightly cool mint aroma permeated the air. Looking up in a trance, she looked at the handsome and indifferent face, with rigid lines and sharp indifferent eyes, as if the corners of his lips would never rise into a cold arc. The corners of his lips bent proudly, and his eyes narrowed into a crescent moon. Veronica Parker grabbed the clothes on his chest, smiled and said, "How about sleeping with me tonight?" "Are you sure?" The low and charming voice was particularly beautiful. Veronica Parker tilted her head and said provocatively, "Why? Don't you dare?" She had blurred eyes, soft voice, ambiguous tone, and red cheeks. Very attractive. The man smiled and bent over. Then, Veronica Parker's feet suddenly rose into the air. Panicked, she let out a short scream. She subconsciously clung to the man's shirt and him directly. The hot kiss made the dryness and heat in Veronica Parker's body surge. It was a little difficult to control, as if constantly tearing their own clothes. In the depths of her body, there was a deep desire, like a black hole. She wanted to be filled with something. "Woman, do you want me to do it here?" The voice of a man was a mess.

Turns out I'm rich

"Martin, you've suffered all these years. Don't worry, I'll will make it up to you." Morgan said as he took out a bank card and handed it to Martin. "You have a million dollars in that card, Martin. Use it as your pocket money." Morgan smiled. "If that's not enough, you can just tell me." "A million dollars?!" Martin shouted as his hands trembled. After all, Martin never expected that Morgan would say that a million dollars is just 'pocket money' Morgan naturally saw what Martin was astonished about and laughed. "A million dollars is a small amount of money for me, Martin." Morgan then slipped the card into Martin's hand. "Besides, I want to give you my business in C City." "W-what do you mean? I'm still in college. I could never handle such a large business like yours." Martin retorted. "You don't need to have experience in running a business, Martin. I just need you to be the new chairman and track all the sales. You can also use the money as much as you want, if that helps." Morgan told him. Martin simply nodded. A glimmer of hope was evident in his eyes as he realized the importance of money and status. Martin suddenly remembered that Jessie, who had just broken up with him, worked as a receptionist in the Gold Group. And the fact that he was about to become a chairman of the same company Jessie worked for made him ecstatic. He was definitely looking forward for a new beginning.

He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him

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.

Billionaire Boss? Nah, Just A Possessive Husband!

I just got my billionaire husband to sign our divorce papers. He thinks it's another business document. Our marriage was a business transaction. I was his secretary by day, his invisible wife by night. He got a CEO title and a rebellion against his mother; I got the money to save mine. The only rule? Don't fall in love. I broke it. He didn't. So I'm cashing out. Thirty days from now, I'm gone. But now he's noticing me. Touching me. Claiming me. The same man who flaunts his mistresses is suddenly burning down a nightclub because another man insulted me. He says he'll never let me go. But he has no idea I'm already halfway out the door. How far will a billionaire go to keep a wife he never wanted until she tried to leave?

The Rise Of The Ugly Luna

Lyric had spent her life being hated. Bullied for her scarred face and hated by everyone-including her own mate-she was always told she was ugly. Her mate only kept her around to gain territory, and the moment he got what he wanted, he rejected her, leaving her broken and alone. Then, she met him. The first man to call her beautiful. The first man to show her what it felt like to be loved. It was only one night, but it changed everything. For Lyric, he was a saint, a savior. For him, she was the only woman that had ever made him cum in bed-a problem he had been battling for years. Lyric thought her life would finally be different, but like everyone else in her life, he lied. And when she found out who he really was, she realized he wasn't just dangerous-he was the kind of man you don't escape from. Lyric wanted to run. She wanted freedom. But she desired to navigate her way and take back her respect, to rise above the ashes. Eventually, she was forced into a dark world she didn't wish to get involved with.

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband's Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn't find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn't even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father's legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn's party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara's health and managing every detail of Caden's empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I'd drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause-if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I'd forgotten.

Fake Mating To My Ex's Powerful Enemy

All my life, I've been the backup daughter. My sister Beatrice got everything-love, attention, the golden child treatment.I got leftovers and reminders I wasn't good enough. Until I discovered Niall,gorgeous Alpha from the neighboring pack,was my fated mate. Finally, my turn to be chosen. God, I was naive. Four years of engagement hell.Bleaching my hair to suit his tastes. Squeezing into tight dresses, playing his personal maid-only to hear I'd make a better servant than mate. All because his heart belonged to my sister. That night,I accidentally knocked over their picture frame. He slapped me. Hard. Said I'd never measure up to her. So I slapped him back, tore up their photo, and accepted rejection. I thought it was over. Until I caught them at the club, laughing about how pathetic my four years of trying had been. The whole engagement was their sick game. Drunk and furious, I did something reckless with my mysterious neighbor. Alpha Hudson -face carved by gods, danger in every perfectly tailored line. Most importantly, he's my ex's nemesis. So? Best sex of my life. I thought it was a one-night stand to forget. Wrong Again. He's richer than Niall, more powerful than my family, and infinitely more dangerous. And he's not letting me go. This time, I won't be anybody's second choice.

Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance

I stood at my mother’s open grave in the freezing rain, my heels sinking into the mud. The space beside me was empty. My husband, Hilliard Holloway, had promised to cherish me in bad times, but apparently, burying my mother didn't fit into his busy schedule. While the priest’s voice droned on, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a livestream of the Metropolitan Charity Gala. There was Hilliard, looking impeccable in a custom tuxedo, with his ex-girlfriend Charla English draped over his arm. The headline read: "Holloway & English: A Power Couple Reunited?" When he finally returned to our penthouse at 2 AM, he didn't come alone—he brought Charla with him. He claimed she’d had a "medical emergency" at the gala and couldn't be left alone. I found a Tiffany diamond necklace on our coffee table meant for her birthday, and a smudge of her signature red lipstick on his collar. When I confronted him, he simply told me to stop being "hysterical" and "acting like a child." He had no idea I was seven months pregnant with his child. He thought so little of my grief that he didn't even bother to craft a convincing lie, laughing with his mistress in our home while I sat in the dark with a shattered heart and a secret life growing inside me. "He doesn't deserve us," I whispered to the darkness. I didn't scream or beg. I simply left a folder on his desk containing signed divorce papers and a forged medical report for a terminated pregnancy. I disappeared into the night, letting him believe he had successfully killed his own legacy through his neglect. Five years later, Hilliard walked into "The Vault," the city's most exclusive underground auction, looking for a broker to manage his estate. He didn't recognize me behind my Venetian mask, but he couldn't ignore the neon pink graffiti on his armored Maybach that read "DEADBEAT." He had no clue that the three brilliant triplets currently hacking his security system were the very children he thought had been erased years ago. This time, I wasn't just a wife in the way; I was the one holding all the cards.