Romans & histoires Deadpan Expression

I was the most insignificant omega in the pack. In my past life, Alpha Asher Croft asked me to be his mate ninety-nine times, and I said no every single time. On the hundredth attempt, he locked me in Croft Manor and held me so tight I couldn't breathe. His eyes burned with obsession, and I was terrified. So I ran. I made it halfway to the border before the rogues found me. Asher took three silver bullets, saving my life. The first shot destroyed his hand, the second blinded his eye, and the third went straight through his heart. He looked at me as he died, blood soaking through his shirt, and his expression was stubborn and fragile all at once. "Cassandra, why can't you just love me once?" Then the miracle happened. I opened my eyes and found myself back on the day Asher first told me he liked me. This time, I reached out and took his hand first. I thought we'd grow old together, but Asher betrayed me three times. On our bonding night, he deliberately walked into the wrong room and slept with someone else. My heart shattered, but I forgave him. Three months pregnant, I got a call at two in the morning during a storm, and he left me stranded on the outskirts. I lost the baby. I wiped my tears and let it go. But the third time, he exiled my brother over a cat. That's when I finally understood. It was time to leave. This time, I'll make sure Asher never finds me again.

In my previous life, Leon, the Alpha who was supposed to complete the marking ceremony with me, suddenly changed his chosen mate to my younger sister, Rose, on the very day of the ritual. Watching the two of them act intimately together, a wave of humiliation swept over me. Just as I was about to step forward and demand an explanation, the pack was suddenly attacked. All three of us died in the riot. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of the marking ceremony. This time, I chose to fulfill their wish. After leading the members to suppress the riot that would have happened in my previous life, I left the pack and entered human society. I thought I would never cross paths with them again in this lifetime. However, three years later, on the day of a birthday banquet, I unexpectedly met Rose and Leon again. Rose was leaning shyly into Leon’s arms, greeting me with a look of feigned surprise. “Claire! Why are you at such a grand banquet? “Didn’t you go to live in human society?” When I stayed silent, Rose mocked me with a laugh. “Could it be that you couldn’t survive in human society and now want to return to the pack?” Leon looked at me from the side, his expression filled with unconcealed disgust. “I would never agree to let you return to the pack even if you kneeled and begged me. “However, as my slave, you’d still be qualified. We could go back to how things were before.” I smiled faintly. I was here because my mate was the new Ultima of the wolf packs’ Alliance. And this exquisite birthday banquet was specially prepared for me.

Everyone called Mia a shameless whore. However, the one trailing behind her was the youngest don of the Yorick family, James. He hand-washed her lace camisoles, broke three ribs for her, and even with his face covered in blood from a beating, he could still smile at her. One night, after too much drinking, the underboss he trusted most leaned down beside him. His face was full of disdain. “Boss, Mia is a disgrace to all of us! A woman like that, how could she ever be worthy of you?” James suddenly laughed. His eyes went terrifyingly blank. The cigar between his fingers glowed faintly in the dark. “Back then, before I secured my position, I was young, greedy for power. To get my sister-in-law that antique necklace she wanted, I took advantage of Mia being drunk and took pictures of her myself… “Ten dollars a copy. I sold thirty thousand of them. Things blew way out of control… I owe her.” James took a long drink of whiskey while his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Thankfully… she will never know. I will spend my whole life making it up to her, treating her twice as well.” He did not see the private room door quietly close the moment he said those words. Mia turned around with a blank expression on her face and walked into a small clinic on the corner. She laid down on the operating table. He would never deserve to know that he had once been a father, if only for a moment. That whole lifetime he planned to spend making it up to her, she did not want it anymore.

Ever heard of a “wife for hire”? Absurd, right? Well, it was a brand-new concept to me too. As I stared at the billionaire sitting across from me, one thought rang loud and clear in my mind.“This man has lost it.“ How did I go from interviewing for a cleaner’s position to this? An offer to “marry” a billionaire? The words had barely left his lips before I scoffed, unable to help myself. “Is this some kind of joke?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him, skepticism dripping from every word. He tilted his head to the side, his expression oddly calm. His brows lifted slightly as his sharp gaze locked onto mine. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice steady yet tinged with what seemed like guilt—or maybe embarrassment. “Did I offend you? If I have…” “I mean, no offense, but… look at you. You’re tall, handsome, rich,” I continued, gesturing toward him as if to underline my point. “Any woman out there would swarm around you, dying for the chance to be with you. So, why me? Unless there’s more to it. Unless there’s… a motive.” … After being handed divorce papers at the hospital—mere moments after losing her baby,Amber refuses to fall apart. She is not weak. She is not pathetic. She won’t waste tears on the heavens or wait for Karma to settle the score. Instead, she vows to become Karma herself. However, fate leads her to an encounter with him, a wealthy, enigmatic billionaire with a haunting past and a son who longs for a mother. Drawn to her striking resemblance to someone from his past, he makes her an audacious offer. One that could change both of their lives forever.

Raisel Alaric Warden, a devoted wife, loves caring for her husband, Alaric Warden, a millionaire businessman at Warden Company. They fell in love in college and have been happily married for three years. However, Raisel’s world was shaken when she discovered that Alaric had feelings for Davina, his secretary, from their university days. Though initially unworried, Raisel noticed Alaric’s growing absence at events. At a social gathering, Raisel’s best friend, Hazel, noticed her solitude. “Why are you by yourself?” Hazel asked, handing Raisel a drink. “Alaric was busy,” Raisel replied, masking her unease. As they spoke, Raisel saw Alaric with Davina, their affection evident. When Davina kissed Alaric’s cheek, causing a stir among photographers, Raisel’s heart sank. “What is this all about?” Raisel asked, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry, Raisel, but I want a divorce. I love Davina,” Alaric confessed, as tears filled Raisel’s eyes and cameras flashed around them. Overwhelmed, Raisel fled, only to be caught by strong arms—those of Soren Dalton, her best friend and billionaire businessman, whom she hadn’t seen in five years. “Soren,” Raisel whispered. Understanding the situation from a video his bodyguard showed him, Soren’s expression turned cold, his glare fixed on Alaric, Davina, and the paparazzi. “Remember in college, when I pretended to be your boyfriend to keep other guys away? Let’s do that again,” he whispered in her ear. Torn between the past and present, Raisel looked between Soren and Alaric, caught in a whirlwind of emotions.

Layla is standing too close to him. She knows it the moment she stops moving, when the space between them shifts from accidental to deliberate. Luca doesn’t step back. He never does. He only looks down at her, dark eyes steady and unreadable, as if he’s been waiting to see whether she’d do exactly this. “You’re doing it again,” he says quietly. “Doing what?” Her voice gives her away—soft, breathless. “Standing where you shouldn’t.” His gaze drops briefly to her mouth. “And pretending you don’t know.” Heat coils low in her stomach. “Maybe I don’t care.” That gets his attention. Something sharp flickers across his expression—control tightening. He reaches out slowly, giving her time to pull away. She doesn’t. His fingers hook lightly under her chin, tilting her face up. The touch is barely there, but it steals her breath all the same. “Careful,” he murmurs. “That’s not something you say to men like me.” “Why?” she whispers. “Because you might misunderstand?” His thumb traces her jaw, deliberate. “No,” he says. “Because I won’t.” His hand stays there, steady, grounding. She feels the restraint in him now—the effort it takes not to close the distance completely. “There are lines I don’t cross lightly,” Luca says. “And once I do, Layla, I don’t step back.” She swallows. “Then why are you still here?” He leans in just enough that his breath ghosts her skin. “Because you haven’t asked me to.”

“My bed is where you belong right now, little girl.” His eyes dragged slowly over my body, bold and unashamed. “Don’t call me little girl. You’re twenty-one, I’m thirty-one. I can be your mother.” The moment the words left my mouth, his expression darkened. “Capture her. And take her straight to my bed.” ******" Diana has survived a traumatic past that destroyed her trust in men. It left her with one rule — no men, no love talkless of someone younger than her. But rules don’t matter to him. He is the youngest mafia king, feared even by men twice his age. Arrogant. Ruthless. Poisonously possessive. And the moment he sees her, he marks her in his mind as his next obsession. she tell him no. He decides to destroy every reason she has for saying it. He wants her obedience. He wants her fear. He wants her on his bed, under his control… and he doesn’t hide it. He swears he will break her defiance. She swears no man will ever own her again. But when buried secrets rise and Diana’s past crashes into his world, both of them will learn that some truths ruin, some desires burn, and some destinies refuse to be escaped. Warning: Breeding, lactation kink, forced proximity, age gab, Captive, Possessive/Obsessive Hero, Mafia dark world, themes of biting, feeding, or sexual acts centered around blood and power exchange. no raping. ( Fiction written for entertainment only and never ever try what you see in a book, they are just imagination) Thanks

“You want a divorce,” he said flatly. “Yes.” “You.” He tilted his head. “The same woman who begged her father to arrange this marriage because she's completely in love with me, who has spent two years making my life…” he stopped, and rephrased “you want a divorce.” “People change.” “What scheme is this now Arabella?” I frowned. “It's not a scheme, it's a divorce, and it's very common among people who are done with a…” “Impossible.” He said it like that was the end of it, discussion over. He turned away from me and walked toward the door like I hadn't said anything at all. “Andrew!” “Get up.” He didn't turn around. “Get dressed, something presentable. We're going to the palace tonight.” “I just asked you for a divorce…” “It's a banquet.” He finally glanced back over his shoulder, and there was nothing in his expression that suggested he'd heard a single word I said about divorce. “We're meeting the King tonight. You have a few hours so I suggest you stop wasting them.” “Did you hear what I just said to you?” “Get ready, Bella.” ✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ The Ruthless Lycan King isn’t just my mate. He’s my secret. I’m already married to Alpha Andrew yet every full moon, I end up in the King’s arms… feeding his curse with my blood, and my body. He needs me to survive. I need him more than I should. If my husband ever finds out, this forbidden affair will start a war.

On the day of the wedding, Galen Shaw forces me to crack walnuts with my bare hands for his so-called female buddy. My expression goes cold, and I refuse outright. "My hands are for holding a scalpel, not cracking walnuts for her!" He only chuckles and orders someone to hold me down. Then, he glues the walnuts to my palms himself. One by one, he slams them against the ground. "You cheated while studying medicine. Now that you've married me, forget about ever being a doctor again!" I grit my teeth through the pain. My fingers are aching, but I try to explain. "I went abroad to study medicine for you!" His so-called female buddy sneers in a shrill voice. "All that talk about the Shaw family's hereditary disease is nonsense! Galen has been perfectly healthy for over 20 years. Don't tell me you just want another excuse to cozy up with your precious senior?" The moment those words leave her lips, the faint thought of having someone bandage my hand disappears. A shadow crosses Galen's face. "Looks like you haven't learned your lesson!" He throws me into the basement and locks me there for three days. By the time I crawl out, my hands are completely ruined. Later, when Galen's hereditary disease finally surfaces, the doctor tries to comfort him. "This disease may be terminal, but there is still a way. Dr. Robinson has just returned from overseas. She's the only one in the world who can perform this surgery. "I hear that she's your wife."

At the bride selection ball, the queen herself chose me to be the crown prince's consort. Then my cousin Yvonne Johnson suddenly dropped to her knees in the middle of the hall and presented an erotic painting to the court. The woman in the painting had no face, but the rose birthmark at my waist had been rendered in chilling detail. Yvonne's eyes were red, her voice soft and cool. "I love my cousin dearly, but I can't deceive the queen. Your Majesty, please look closely. My cousin's virtue is compromised. She isn't fit to be the crown prince's consort." In a single night, my reputation was destroyed. I became the most shameless woman in the capital. Yvonne smiled at me, sweet as ever. "If your mother hadn't drawn your birthmark herself, no one would've believed that the eldest daughter of a duke's household would do something so indecent." My mother looked at me with an expression that held only resignation. "Your aunt once saved my life. I made a promise to Yvonne. I swore I'd give her the finest match in the world. But as long as you're here, you're in her way. Charlotte, my hands are tied." The ground dropped out from under me. It was my mother who'd had that painting made. She'd destroyed my name, my future, all to help her favorite niece marry the crown prince. Using my so-called disgrace as justification, she ordered me to hang myself. Meanwhile, my cousin married into the palace in glory, dressed in the gown and jewels that had been meant for me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day of the bride selection ball.