selling your soul contract

After the hot sex, the boss asks the secretary to decide whether to be mistress or secretary. She liked him silently for a year, so decide the first. Everything's fine till the baby comes along.

She had been blamed and rebuked; she had lost and been betrayed; she had tried to figure out who she was but instead got trampled upon. Roseline spent her poor childhood life in pain, distress, and hardship, even at the hands of her own father. But she stepped back, not giving up on herself. Lucian is a rich, cursed playboy of the Desmonds who had up to thirty girlfriends and, surprisingly, was catering to their needs. He met Roseline, who never liked him from the start and has been trying every possible way to avoid him. Lucian had been cursed by this same Roseline when they were both kids. But why do they have to meet again, fall in love, and also try to exchange destinies?

“Brent, please, I didnt cheat on you!” “Shut up!” Here I was begging a man who was a cheat himself— begging him to believe me and take him back. Despite the fact that he had been the one that cheated. But where had the compromising pictures come from? “I can't — I can't b-believe you're choosing your ex over me, Brent! I'm your wife! Your wife!” “Not only have you ruined my reputation, you have ruined my family's name as well. I wish I can erase you and everything we have together from my memories,” he growled at me. “You'll pay for what you've done, Priscilla. I promise you.” “Brent, you have to believe me,” I wept, summoning up the courage to clutch at his arm but he snatched it away from me, making me fall back violently against the table. He produced a set of papers and a pen and slammed them down onto he table. “Divorce papers. I want them signed. Now.” ***************** Sent packing by her husband when she was two months pregnant, Priscilla Sinclair had no one to turn to so she buried herself in her work. Six years later, she met the father of her children who wants her and his kids back. Could there be a chance for him in her life again?

My son is gravely ill. His inner wolf is too weak to awaken, and the healer warns that without the Alpha’s blood to strengthen his spirit, he may not last the next full moon. He clutches my hand, his feverish golden eyes dimming. “Mother, can Father take me to the Barnum & Bailey Circus？” But no matter how many times I summon my mate through the pack bond, he does not answer. His presence in the mind-link is an empty void. I can only hold my son as his small body trembles. I whisper stories of wolf warriors and great Alphas, but his breathing grows weaker. When the dawn breaks, his tiny fingers slip from mine. His wolf never wakes. A few days later, the scent of wild roses floods our pack’s sacred grounds. I turn—and there he is. My mate. My Alpha. He strides into the hall with my sister cradled in his arms. Her neck bears his fresh scent mark. His mark. I watch as he presses a lingering kiss to her lips, his hands caressing her like a treasure. Their love is bold, shameless—an unspoken declaration to the entire pack. And only then do I learn the truth. While my son lay fighting for his life, waiting for his father’s touch, longing for his Alpha’s strength… my mate was deep in Rose Valley, tangled in passion with my own blood. I thought my heart had long since gone cold from his neglect, but at that moment, it shatters. I make my decision. I will leave this pack. Yet just as I turn to walk away, the mate who had only ever treated me with indifference suddenly drops to his knees. A broken sob rips from his throat. For the first time, my proud, untouchable Alpha weeps.

Rumors swirled that Emily Rockefeller had been Murray Gibson's cherished "canary" for three years. At nineteen, she became Murray's, groomed to be both obedient and tender. It was said that Murray only saw her as a stand-in, a substitute for his childhood crush, Stacey Zechariah. Rumors persisted that when Stacey returned, Emily's charm faded, and Murray heartlessly kicked her out of his car right on the street. However, rumors are just that. Later on, a gossip magazine captured a rare moment of vulnerability from the usually arrogant Gibson heir. He was found drowning his sorrows in a bar late at night, tearfully asking every passerby, "Why doesn't she want me?"

In the middle of a lively night, can you guess what's about to come? In the middle of the busy street, do you realize there is something in the dump? Shane Hoseinzade was peacefully sleeping on the floor when three conservative, loud knocks echoed inside. Would he open the door? On the other side, someone wearing a black cloak and holding a giant scythe is standing on the doorstep. With head bowed down, a pair of mismatched eyes glowed while staring at the door. Patiently waiting for the target to open the door. If you hear three violent knocks on your door at exactly midnight, would you dare to open the door? But what if those violent knocks are the knocks of the person you promised to marry in the future? Death? A grim reaper? A demon? Whoever it is, are you ready to face your fears?

Lesley McArthur is like every other high school girl that was living a regular teenage life until she attended her sister's wedding. When Lesley's sister Chloe decided to run away on her wedding day, the biggest wedding in New York. Lesley's parents had no choice but to convince their eighteen year old daughter to marry New York billionaire businessman's son, Chris Storms so as to fulfill the contract they made years ago. To Lesley, all she had to do was stay married to Chris until her sister was back for her husband but things didn't go as she planned when she found herself falling for the angry, heartbroken young man who was in crazy in love with her sister. All was going well for Lesley and Chris, that was until Chloe suddenly came back. What will happen to Lesley and Chris whose love story had only just begun? Would Chris leave Lesley to be with his first love Chloe?

Forestia Renae Frost is a twenty-two years old model who has always hated Adamson Rockwell, her enemy since high school and now the CEO of the Rockwell Group of Companies. In their class batch reunion held in a high-class resort, the two met again after years of not seeing each other and fell into a heated confrontation after getting drunk that ended up burning with long kept desire and passion. Forestia thought it was just a one night stand, but what if she suddenly received a call from Adam after a week of their first night and offered her an engagement contract? Will she accept the role of being her enemy's fiancé?

He's the man I shouldn't want. A good-looking and powerful man like him shouldn't make me feel this way. He is rude, selfish, and is fucking incapable of reciprocating my feelings. Gray Westmore...that's his name. And I couldn't fucking unlove him now that I know he's trying to save his family from his psychotic twin.

A marriage bound by a contract, and she obliged to accept it. He was her boss, and she was his secretary. She gave him everything he wanted, but her love was neglected, but when she decided to leave, he offered her a contract marriage to make her stay. But, someone occupied his heart, and he couldn’t offer anything to her except his talent on the bed. After their marriage, she endured the pain, but scheme after scheme destroyed her tolerance. Finally, she was ready to leave him, but suddenly he refused to let her go. Charles seemed to feel her sorrow, hugged her suddenly, and whispered, “Sarah, you can trust me. I won’t ever be with her. You are different from all those other women. I really want to be with you. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t have cut off relationships with all other women. Don’t you believe me now?” Sarah sobbed gently, “If you have accepted that it’s over with her, why do you still keep her photo in your wallet? Why do you still miss her? Don’t you see how it’s hurting me?” Charles stared at her, “She’s just another woman from my past!” The atmosphere between them became suffocating, and Charles said in a low voice, “Sarah, have I told you that you could leave? Remember, I’m your boss. You are my secretary and my wife!” Angrily, Charles shouted again, “Sarah, I’m your man!” “Uh? My man?” Sarah laughed and stared at him. Tears began to slip down her cheeks, “Are you, my man? Mr. President, I am just a mere possession of yours and never become your wife! Set me free, I’m begging you!”