What Are Jethro Gibbs Rules นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Professor Zira Voss has spent years building a reputation for control. At Hawthorne College she is known for her sharp intellect, strict standards, and the cool authority that keeps students firmly in their place. But Zira has a secret. Late at night, behind a locked door and the glow of her laptop screen, she becomes Obsidian Queen—the anonymous patron of a mysterious livestream performer known only as Shadowed Knight. What began as a private escape from pressure and loneliness was never meant to follow her into the real world. Until the day a new transfer student walks into her lecture hall. Tristan Vale is confident, observant, and far too perceptive for comfort. When Zira notices the sleek black card that links him to the identity she knows online, a dangerous realization takes hold. The secret they share could destroy them both. Zira risks her hard-earned career and reputation. Tristan risks the scholarship that brought him to Hawthorne. What begins as a tense battle for control soon spirals into a rivalry neither of them can easily escape. And just when Zira thinks the situation cannot become more complicated, Damian—the man from her past who refuses to let her go—returns, determined to reclaim his place in her life. With secrets closing in and tensions rising, the lines between control, obsession, and vulnerability begin to blur.

On our wedding day, the big screen glitched—then flipped to kissing shots of Caleb Gorman and his "girl best friend," Holly Beech. Holly shot up, hand over her mouth, smiling all fake-innocent. "Relax, everyone. We were just messing around. Caleb and I go way back. Guess that makes me wife number two." Caleb smiled, soft like always. "That's just her. She's a total blabbermouth. Don't take it seriously." I looked at him. Calm. "She plays kissing pics of you two at our wedding and calls herself your 'wife number two.' That's messing around?" His face tightened. Annoyed. "It's a few photos. We've been together five years. You're really gonna nitpick something this small and not let it—" I raised a hand, cutting him off. "Yeah. I am. I'm not letting it go." That hit him. He wasn't used to me standing firm. I turned to the crowd. "This wedding's over."

In a small town, Mia, a rebellious young werewolf, finds herself trapped in a dead-end job and a life she never wanted. Running away from her pack and an arranged mating, she crosses paths with Asher, a wealthy and wounded billionaire. Despite their rocky start, Asher becomes captivated by Mia's fierce spirit and the unspoken connection between them. As the world conspires to keep them apart, Mia's past comes knocking at the door, threatening to expose her secrets. In a desperate bid to protect Asher, Mia makes a heart-wrenching decision, fleeing the city and leaving him behind. Haunted by his love for Mia, Asher embarks on a relentless search, uncovering clues and enlisting help along the way. But danger lurks in the shadows. Can Mia and Asher rewrite their destinies and forge a path to happiness, or will they succumb to the forces that threaten to tear them apart forever?

After I confessed to my childhood crush, he smirked and said, "If you can get that loser to drink from the same bottle you did, I'll date you." Seriously? Was I really reborn fifteen years ago? I raced over to Noah—top of the class and hot as hell—and dropped the water bottle on his desk in front of everyone. He clocked the lipstick stain, face turning crimson. Future business mogul? Right now, he looked like some poor kid waiting to get crushed. I nudged the bottle closer. "Using that genius brain to collect bottles for cash? Kinda tragic. Be my private tutor instead." He might be broke, but lucky for him, I've got money to burn.

My wife, Vivian Lane, is the wealthiest woman. Her assistant had made it clear he had three "do-not-disturb" rules: no messages after work, no calls on weekends, and absolutely no contact when he was in a bad mood. Because of this, the company lost a major deal—one worth over a hundred million. Yet the assistant looked completely unbothered. "Sorry, I had no idea one phone call could make such a difference. If something goes wrong and I have to be the one to take the blame, fine—I'm just another cog in the machine." My wife snapped, "Who said anything about blaming you? You did exactly what you were told." She shot me a look of pure irritation. "You take the profits from the project, and when things fall apart, you dump it on the regular employees? Is that how you run a business? If your company folds over something this small, it just proves you're not fit to be in charge." It suddenly clicked, and I let out a quiet laugh. So she thought this project belonged to my company? I didn't bother correcting her. To be honest, I couldn't really hold it against her—after all, it wasn't my company going under.

"I didn’t know I was marrying two people. He wore the suit, but she pulled the strings. The day I walked down the aisle, eyes locked with the man I loved, I thought I had found peace. I thought I was finally leaving behind the noise of my childhood, the ache of loneliness, and the years I spent praying for a love that would choose me, only me. But no one told me that some men never truly leave their mothers. They marry, yes,but their hearts remain tangled in an invisible umbilical cord, one that stretches past vows, past bedrooms, past boundaries. I moved into our new home, only to find that the walls had ears, hers. We lived in separate flats, but it never truly felt like my space. My marriage was a room she walked into, uninvited but ever present. Her opinions dripped into our arguments, her eyes followed me from behind lace curtains, and her voice echoed in decisions that should have belonged to me and my husband. At first, I kept quiet. I told myself it was cultural. Respect. Family. Then I told myself it was temporary. Then I stopped telling myself anything at all, because nothing I said made a difference. This is not a story of hate. It’s a story of love, tested by bloodlines, boundaries, and a battle I never asked to fight. This is my truth. The marriage I thought was mine. The home that never really felt like home. And the rules I never agreed to, but had to live by, simply because… I was under her roof".

Dan is a rising basketball star with everything going in his favor. A future at NYU, a spot on the Boston team, his life seemed pretty perfect. But behind his success is a truth he can never seem to escape. Kenz has always been more than just family to Dan, as friends, cousins and also emotional supporters. Kenz is the only one who understands him in ways no one else knew or cared to know about. But with time, their bond shifted into something deeper, something they both knew wasn't right. As Dan leaves for Boston to chase his basketball dreams, distance begins to affect the relationship they had. Kenz on the other hand, tries focusing on his relationship with Fiona and living a normal life, but he is unable to do that because he feels incomplete without Dan. The closer Dan gets to success, the more complicated their connection becomes. What started as hidden feelings slowly turns into confusion, guilt and resentment. Both boys struggle between choosing love and living a normal life. In a world filled with confrontations and pressure, Dan and Kenz are forced to accept the truth they have spent so long avoiding. Feelings are never easy to get rid of. And sometimes choosing love may end up destroying everything around them.

I don't know how it happened. One minute I'm living an extremely lonely life and all it takes is getting lost to change all of that. But, change is good, right? Yeah, if you take the fact that I was entrusted with the most adorable little girl as good. Throw in a reunion with a twin brother that I haven't seen in years and a gang of bad boys to the pile and all is peachy keen. As complicated as it seems, there's more. Now, I have to keep a certain mystery boy away from me for my own sake. I have to deal with a brother that thinks these bad boys are his new best friends. And on top of all of that, someone's after me. Forget the fact that this is senior year. Why can't I just be Khloe Mason, an uncoordinated mess of fandoms. Now, I'm The Bad Boy's...What?

When my husband, Lucius Croft, and I were on a flight that was heading toward our honeymoon destination, his childhood friend, Belinda Todd, suddenly appeared before us while pregnant. She claimed that she had bought an economy-class ticket and that she wanted to go on a vacation with us. Not only did Lucius not reject Belinda, but he also wanted me to give my first-class ticket away to her. I turned his suggestion down. So, he helped Belinda occupy the first-class seat next to us. When I realized that an old lady was the owner of that particular seat, I did everything I could to convince Lucius to return the seat to her. Unexpectedly, Belinda was so mad that she got off the plane right away. On her way home, she got into an accident, which killed her and her unborn baby. Lucius attended her funeral calmly. But on the day I was supposed to go into labor, he tied me up in the car and staged a car accident on purpose. "This is all your fault! If it wasn't for you, Belinda never would've died! You deserve to make it up to her with your life!" I could only watch the car drive into the tree in total despair. All I saw was a huge explosion and tongues of flame around me before I completely lost consciousness. When I open my eyes again, I see Belinda standing before me with her belly jutting out. This time, I no longer stop them. What they don't know is that the inconspicuous-looking old lady is actually a member of the esteemed Howard family, also known as the global business powerhouse. She's also the grandmother of the richest man in the world, Ethan Howard.

After the plane crash, my body was never recovered. My soul drifted back to the home I hadn't stepped foot in for five years. They didn't know I was dead. They were still waiting for me to come home for Christmas. When my mom got the call from the airline, she froze for a long time, completely at a loss, before breaking down in tears. I followed them as they went to the memorial crash site. That was when I noticed something strange—I could see their levels of regret hovering above their heads. My brother's regret level read: 40%. My father's showed: 60%. Even my sister-in-law had 30% over her head. But my mother's regret level? It flashed a cold, unchanging 0%.