Got Daenerys And Daario Novels & Stories

The third year after I got diagnosed with intermittent amnesia, I happened to overhear my husband, Lucien Rook, chatting with his friends. “Lucien, Anneliese loses her memories every couple of months, and you keep making us impersonate you to live with her. Aren’t you afraid that one of us might take it all the way one day?” “What’s there to be afraid of?” Lucien laughed uninhibitedly, swishing the alcohol in his glass. “Annie is cold and distant. As long as you guys don’t tempt her, she won’t have any such desires. “But I’m warning you now. You can act all you want, but you can’t ever sleep with her. Once I’ve had my fun, I will be going home to her.” For three years, every time I los

For ten years, I stand by Robert Lopez's side, watching him rise from the trenches of obscurity to the blinding heights of superstardom. But on the night he clinches the Best Actor award, he drops to one knee and proposes to a starlet he's known for less than ten days. Those eyes that are so full of love and devotion, no matter who they're looking at, turn cold and threatening for the first time. "Danielle, I've slept with her, so I need to take responsibility. You're willing to stay by my side without a title or a promise, but she can't. She needs a sense of security." A bitter laugh escapes me. That's when I finally understand that love has nothing to do with time. But hear this, Rob

I've been with Giovanni Rossi for ten years. In fact, I'm the only lover he has. During countless nights of passion, he promised me that he'd marry me as soon as he became the Don of his family. But on the night he sits on the throne, he decides to cast me out for the sake of my replacement, Lisa Esposito. "Selena, she's different from you. You can stay as my secret lover, but she needs an official title. Lisa has been living in a clean world. The love she has for me is pure as well. She's just like you when you were 19 years old." After that, Giovanni gets down on one knee and puts on a pair of ballet flats onto Lisa's feet in a tender manner. As I step out in the heavy downpour, I nev

For three years, Emerie had been married to Allan, the son of an Alpha. Allan had always believed it was Emerie who drugged him, forcing him into the marriage. Determined to divorce her, he chose to be with her sister Jolene instead. But what he didn’t know was that Emerie was already terminally ill when she left him. When Allan finally uncovered the truth and desperately searched for her—could he still win her back?

As I lean into the arms of my sexy gym trainer, I randomly come across a forum post that displays my home's coordinates in its IP address. "Everyone, what should I do if I've accidentally ruined my boss' husband's luxurious custom-fitted suit when I was washing it earlier? I'm just an assistant, so there's no way I can afford to pay for it!" At first glance, I can tell that the post is made by Archie Carter, the personal assistant of Valerie Henderson, whom I've married via a marriage alliance. Someone leaves a scathing comment in the post. "What else can you do? Cough up the payment, of course! What's the point in making this post?" "You call yourself an assistant when in reality, you'

I am finally pregnant with a child after being married to Anthony Johnson, my husband, who has azoospermia, for five years. Emily Johnson, my 30-year-old unemployed sister-in-law who lives off her family, tears the ultrasound scan apart and angrily accuses me of carrying someone else's baby. She then takes out a notebook packed with detailed records of every time Anthony and I have slept together since we got married. "In the past three months, the only time you slept with Anthony was three weeks ago; other than that, he never laid a finger on you! If you're over a month pregnant, then there's no way that baby belongs to the Johnson family!" I feel incredibly angry at the thought of being

My husband—one of the top elites of Raventon Street, cold and ruthless to his core—keeps a stray orphan girl he rescued from the slums hidden in an apartment. Rowena Fletcher is clean and fragile, like a newborn creature untouched by the world. And somehow, that innocence softens something in Micah Benson—a man who's spent years clawing his way through the brutal wilderness of capital. He thinks this secret game of his goes unnoticed, but I find out anyway. At the Benson family's charity gala, I smash his favorite antique vase in front of everyone. He doesn't even flinch as he simply signals the bodyguards to clean up the mess and then hands me a divorce agreement. "Sign it, Sabrina. Th

During the award ceremony at our annual dinner, my boss, Hank Reid, suddenly announced an impromptu addition to the agenda. “Annual department competition! The department that ranked last has to come up and receive a little award of motivation!” The screen lit up. They scrolled through all the departments’ results. The sales department got first place, the operations department got second place, and the marketing department got third place. However, there was nothing from the administration department. That was because the administration department did not have KPIs. Hank smiled at us. “Let’s welcome our colleagues from the administration department to come up and receive their awar

On our third wedding anniversary, I brought a gift to my husband’s office. Walking past the secretary's suite, I stopped dead. A king-size bed had been set up inside. A young woman in a designer dress was sprawled across it, a handheld game console in her hands, surrounded by imported snacks of every variety. "Kevin, the lunch you ordered yesterday was pre-packaged meals. Marcus and I both felt sick after eating it. Today, make sure it's from The Palace Hotel." Kevin -- my husband's personal assistant -- bowed and scraped before her, his face a mask of obsequious flattery. "Mrs. Thorne, please don't worry. Mr. Thorne made it very clear -- everything should be tailored to your preferenc

Bored of having nothing to do at home, I hide my identity and apply for a job as a designer at the company my son, Jonathan Grady, runs. A few months later, I'm informed that the company wants to optimize its workforce, and I'm the first to get axed. "Why?" "Because you're menopausal. You can't get pregnant." Hearing that makes me scoff. What kind of absurd reason is that? "A designer uses her brains to do her job, no? When did a womb become so important?" I point at Sasha Johnson, who'd been hired before me and was now sitting at her desk, snacking on popcorn instead of working. "Her line compositions are still a complete mess, and she spends all of her time watching TV shows in the