Novelas y relatos de Gasters Face

Late in my pregnancy, my husband, Joshua Jaxson’s ex-wife returned.  Olivia Wylde cornered me at my doorstep and, without a word, launched into a brutal attack.  She insisted I was an intruder who had taken advantage of her absence to steal her place. I pleaded, explaining I wasn’t a mistress, but she refused to believe me.  Together with her supporters, she tore my home apart and beat me so viciously that I went into premature labor.  Blood pooled beneath me, and my consciousness began to slip, but she greeted my husband’s arrival with a radiant smile.  “Honey,” she said, “I’m back. Let’s get remarried!”

I finally conceive after being married for five years. It's then that my junior comes to me, her belly swollen as she tells me she's pregnant with my husband's child. She begs me to let her have the child. I laugh. Later, I show my husband a medical report, which clearly indicates he has a secret dysfunction.

After failing my conquest mission, I trade my ability to feel in exchange for a ticket back to my home world. Two years later, the system summons me, citing an emergency. It tells me that my old conquest target, Caspian Stone, tried to destroy the entire world just to see me. I turn that request down immediately. Even if I've already lost my ability to feel, rationally speaking, I do not want to be with someone who has hurt me before. The poor system is so anxious that it keeps naming condition after condition. In the end, it agrees to let me stay with Caspian for only three months. In return for my cooperation, once I return from Caspian's world, not only must be the system restore my ability to feel, but it must also pay me a huge sum of money that comes from legal sources and has already gotten taxed. But when I return to Caspian's side as an emotionless robot, he goes deeper down the path of lunacy.

A war for dominance breaks out between different species of werewolves but the superior device a means of survival. A forbidden affair unwinds secrets and brings the Amber family that once fell apart together. The child born of the forbidden affair between a Superior werewolf and a diva dominants the other creatures and restores harmony and coexistence.

You spend a whole year carefully prepping for pregnancy… only to find out your husband cheated on you with his stepsister—and got her pregnant. 💔 So, you divorce that piece of trash and decide to have a baby on your own. But plot twist… the sperm donor you chose? Turns out he’s a freaking foreign prince?! 👑😱

The King of the West, Lord of the Shadow Sect, and God of War—Howard Lincoln! Five years ago, Howard's adoptive father and his entire family were killed. Narrowly escaping from death, Harold was saved by Tania Jenkins. After that, he was taken away by a mysterious man and entered the military camp by chance. Five years later, a text message brought the God of War from the blood-soaked battlefield to the mundane world, and only then did Howard realize he had a daughter. Since then, the skillful warrior turned into a doting father, protecting his family, fighting other influential families, battling fiercely, and paying back both the good and the harm.

"You built an elevator on a mountain. It's obviously a code violation!" Walter Grady lifts his walking stick, the muddy tip coming inches from my nose. The massive mountain completely boxed in our town, forcing everyone to endure a brutal two-hour hike just to leave town. That is why, the moment I made my fortune, I paid out of my own pocket to install a massive outdoor elevator. For five years, I've been charging a 50-cent fee just to cover the costs of electricity. Knowing the town is mostly comprised of elderly folks and children, I bought the most expensive, heavy-duty materials available and hired a 24-hour maintenance crew for the elevator, never expecting them to report it to the city council as a code violation. I feel completely blindsided, but I still hold out hope that the people I spent years helping will stand up and speak for me. Instead, Martha Bell rolls her eyes and remarks, "Who ever heard of an elevator charging a fee? You're just ripping us off!" Marcus Crowe chimes in with a sneer, "You're just lazy and using us as an excuse to line your own pockets." I let out a bitter, angry laugh. To keep the residents comfortable, I keep the air conditioning running inside the cabin. Now, the city council is giving me a three-day deadline to tear it down or face a fine. Walter is practically gloating, saying that it's about time. I sign the citation on the spot and immediately call a demolition crew. If they enjoy hiking so much, they can be my guest. I'm officially done serving them.

The day we were meant to be mated, my Alpha, Ford, was ambushed. Silver bullets shredded his car, sending it plunging off a bridge and into the river below. He was pronounced dead. Drowned. I was left pregnant with his heir, shattered by the raw agony of our severed mate bond. Then Ford's twin, Aiden, returned from abroad with his mate, Kyra. His identical face and a scent so similar to my mate's nearly drove me mad. A desperate part of me swore Ford was still alive. I told myself it was just grief. A widow's delusion. Until I overheard a hushed conversation and the horrifying truth slammed into me: the man pretending to be Aiden was Ford. He had faked his death. He'd let his own brother die in his place, all for Kyra—the other woman carrying his child. The grief that had crippled me instantly morphed into a cold, sharp rage. Ford didn't just break our bond; he shattered it. And I would make him pay. I wiped my tears and sent a single message to my brother, Billy, the Alpha of the Winterstone Pack. "Brother, I need a plane crash. He loves faking his death? Fine. Let him feel what it's like to truly lose a mate." Only when the news of my "death" spread did Ford reclaim his name. He knelt for seven days and nights in the ashes of the home we once shared, consumed by a grief of his own making.

The blindfold came off. I blinked. A chandelier. A fireplace. A mansion i had never seen. And a man i had known my whole life — standing with his back to me, a half-empty bottle on the table beside him. Caleb. "Please." My voice cracked. "I don't know what's happening. I think there's been a mistake—" He turned slowly. The grief on his face curdled into something else entirely. "You put her in that chair," he said. Low. Shaking. "You did that." "I didn't—" He crossed the room in four strides. His hand closed in my hair and drove me to my knees before i could breathe. "You're not going home," Caleb Wren said quietly. "Your sister's wedding is in four days. You look exactly like her." His eyes moved over me, cold and final. "You're going to take her place. Consider it what you owe."

I have a rule that I stick to at all times. Every year, I will only host three livestreams. I accept and welcome everyone who joins my livestream. I don't care about the variety of requests made. On top of that, I don't charge anyone anything. As long as I agree to one's request, I'll definitely fulfill it no matter what they want. For the past three years, I've stuck to this rule, and I've never broken it. Because of that, every time my livestream starts, hundreds of thousands of viewers will instantly join my livestream. It's the third livestream this time, marking it the final livestream of the year. As soon as I begin the livestream, numerous comments begin filling up the comment section. The user who's lucky enough to score a chance to communicate with me on my livestream is a woman in her 40s. Her sideburns have already gone gray, and her eyes are sunken. She can be seen holding up a child's photo. "Connor, my son has gone missing for 20 years. Please help me find him. I'll sell my house. Heck, I'll do anything you say!" The comment section instantly goes wild. "Oh my god! What a pitiful mother!" "She's willing to sell everything she has just to find her child! Connor, you must help her!" "If you refuse to help this woman, who else are you going to help then, Connor?" I stare at the woman's face for three long seconds. That's when I feel an inexplicable chill running down my spine. Without hesitation, I close off the communication portal from the woman. "I refuse."