Morning dew

"President, Madam has left. But before she left, she asked me to give this to you." Bill said and handed the documents to Waylon. Waylon Gray looked at it and saw that it was their divorce agreement. He looked at the file in his hand with a mocking and contemptuous expression on his face. He then thought about what trick does Alena Wright wanted to play. "Don't worry about her." Waylon threw the divorce agreement aside with disdain, and the mocking expression on his face became stronger. Then he said, "I want to see what tricks she is going to play!" After Alena Wright returned to the villa, she packed up her things. Since she has decided to divorce Waylon Gray, she knew that she was no longer eligible to live there. Fortunately, she has already agreed with her girlfriend Darcy Harrington in advance. Darcy has a house in the city center, and she was now training abroad and will not be able to return until a month later. That would be enough for her to live in her house for a period of time. After living in Darcy's house, Alena was ready to find a job. Alena studied jewelry design, so she sent her resume to several well-known jewelry design companies. Within two days, she received an interview notice from the Cohen Group. Alena cleaned up and went directly to the Cohen Group. As soon as she walked through the hall of Cohen Group, she saw a familiar figure. Alena suddenly stiffened, and her face was pale. Not far away, the door of the elevator was slowly closing, and the person in the elevator that she saw was actually Waylon Gray. She was confused and wondered why he was there. The building was for Cohen Group, not Monarch International Group. When she submitted her resume, she deliberately avoided the company under Waylon's name. Now she was really wondering why she would see him there. She then thought that it may be just a coincidence. Alena was a little flustered and forced down the bitterness in her heart. Then she realized that her relationship with him was now over, and they have nothing to do with each other anymore.

As a successor to the most mysterious family in the United States, Leon has to go through a set of trials before inheriting his family wealth according to a group of rules. It has five stages. Since he was only three years old, Leon's father has planned on raising him as a tough person. He invited masters of diverse expertise to train Leon in many abilities, starting from arts, medicine, feng shui, ancient foreseeing techniques, self-defense, and ancient antiquities. Four years ago, when the first phase of the exam started, Leon was sent to live in Oregon's harsh city without a single penny. Leon also wasn't allowed to use the different expertise taught to him by the experts to train his willpower and experience the life of an ordinary man. Leon understood his father's goodwill. His family did all this to avoid unwanted circumstances; even simultaneously, they are also grooming his cousins as potential replacements.

Nicole was the only one she knew that had the guts to call Jordan at this hour. The sound of the water in the bathroom stopped. Jordan came out wrapped in a bath towel. He wiped his hand and picked up the phone. Ivelle didn't know what the person from the other end of the phone said. She saw Jordan frowned slightly and he heard him say, "Nicole, don't fool around!" With that, he hung up the phone and was ready to change his clothes and leave. In the past, Ivelle might have pretended to turn a blind eye but now, she grabbed Jordan and begged him softly, "Is it okay if you will not go tonight?" Jordan frowned and his face showed some coldness and displeasure. "Are you beginning to be presumptuous?" It was cold and ironic. Ivelle was stunned. For a moment, she was not able to stop herself from laughing. She looked at him and said, "Tomorrow is Grandpa's funeral. Even if you can't let her go, shouldn't you have a sense of propriety?" "Threats?" He squinted his black eyes and grabbed her jaw in a low, cold voice. "Ivelle, you've grown up."

Try being the youngest sister to six older controlling brothers, all of whom are alphas. Life can be difficult. I would never have even thought of having a boyfriend or getting out on a date. Most girls played with dolls and tea sets. Not me, because my brothers wanted to wrestle, kick, and fight from a young age. The boys taught me to kick anyone's butt from here to China. It was just as enjoyable in high school. My brothers, who are closest to me in age, always monitor me, and if they can not do that, then their friends take care of it. For me, escaping becomes second nature. In the event they were determined to watch my every move, I would give them reasons to do so. In response, I begin skipping classes and flooding the boys' bathroom with toilet paper. I begin dressing sexily in class. As a result, I would ask my brothers' friends out in a sexy manner. I have a blast until the Alpha (my oldest brother) assigns me a bodyguard. As I look at him impishly, I say, "I can outsmart you, Wolf." Besides ditching him, I go to the mall with my friends and skip school. You're probably wondering how my grades were. It's no problem, I'm a genius and I don't have to study to be on the honor roll. In the mall, I get caught by all six of my brothers. Cameron, my oldest brother, picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. I laugh as I wave goodbye to my friends. I watch as my friends gawk at my brothers. I know some of my friends are in love with them. My brothers wave to my friends after they say goodbye. As I turn 16, I am so excited to finally attend highschool by myself, as my two brothers who are still in highschool are graduating this year. There is no such luck. The Alpha tells the school to test me out, and I am also graduating from highschool, and I will attend the same University my brothers are planning to attend. Moon Goddess, what have I done wrong?

A rise in the temperature, the whole body seemed to be lighten by flame. Bane Reed staggered to open the room306 and swiftly fell into the bed. Although the alcohol had almost paralysed her brain, there was still one thought in her mind that could not be taken away by those men. At that moment there was a heavy breathing responding in the dark room. "Get out of here!" Bane Reed was losing her mind when she heard the footsteps outside. 'Don't! Don't take me away, I can't go out. ' Bane Reed knew exactly what would happen to her when she was taken away by the hooligans. She rushed at the man, holding on tightly to his clothes, saying, "Help me, please. I need you to call the police." "Let go!" "No, please." "Get out of here!" There was a trace of anger in the man's voice. The wisp of reason in Bane's mind was going to be gone. All she knew was that she would not let go of the man's clothes. There was a mixed look on the man's face as he listened to the approaching footsteps outside. The men had been chasing him, and had done such wicked things as drugging him. He was on the point of losing his mind, and this woman had to come to him at this very moment. 'It's not my fault, but don't regret it! Bane had no idea what was going to happen next. Her only conscious moment was to grab the man in front of her, until a sharp pain from behind woke her up a bit. Bane pushed her capers frantically, to no avail, her voice so hoarse that she could not make a sound. The man swore under his breath, obviously not expecting the woman to be a stranger. "I'm sorry, I'll be responsible for you."

"Even if I want to get laid, I must find a man who likes me." Maybe it was because of alcohol. Veronica Parker just walked a few steps, when suddenly, she staggered and bumped into a man's arms. A slightly cool mint aroma permeated the air. Looking up in a trance, she looked at the handsome and indifferent face, with rigid lines and sharp indifferent eyes, as if the corners of his lips would never rise into a cold arc. The corners of his lips bent proudly, and his eyes narrowed into a crescent moon. Veronica Parker grabbed the clothes on his chest, smiled and said, "How about sleeping with me tonight?" "Are you sure?" The low and charming voice was particularly beautiful. Veronica Parker tilted her head and said provocatively, "Why? Don't you dare?" She had blurred eyes, soft voice, ambiguous tone, and red cheeks. Very attractive. The man smiled and bent over. Then, Veronica Parker's feet suddenly rose into the air. Panicked, she let out a short scream. She subconsciously clung to the man's shirt and him directly. The hot kiss made the dryness and heat in Veronica Parker's body surge. It was a little difficult to control, as if constantly tearing their own clothes. In the depths of her body, there was a deep desire, like a black hole. She wanted to be filled with something. "Woman, do you want me to do it here?" The voice of a man was a mess.

"Martin, you've suffered all these years. Don't worry, I'll will make it up to you." Morgan said as he took out a bank card and handed it to Martin. "You have a million dollars in that card, Martin. Use it as your pocket money." Morgan smiled. "If that's not enough, you can just tell me." "A million dollars?!" Martin shouted as his hands trembled. After all, Martin never expected that Morgan would say that a million dollars is just 'pocket money' Morgan naturally saw what Martin was astonished about and laughed. "A million dollars is a small amount of money for me, Martin." Morgan then slipped the card into Martin's hand. "Besides, I want to give you my business in C City." "W-what do you mean? I'm still in college. I could never handle such a large business like yours." Martin retorted. "You don't need to have experience in running a business, Martin. I just need you to be the new chairman and track all the sales. You can also use the money as much as you want, if that helps." Morgan told him. Martin simply nodded. A glimmer of hope was evident in his eyes as he realized the importance of money and status. Martin suddenly remembered that Jessie, who had just broken up with him, worked as a receptionist in the Gold Group. And the fact that he was about to become a chairman of the same company Jessie worked for made him ecstatic. He was definitely looking forward for a new beginning.

Alpha Prince, please stop! I just want to get out of here. You think because you are my mate, you can be the master of this palace? Impossible, you can only be here forever, underneath me.

The most beautiful memory in the world of love is that every young girl hopes to meet true love, but Eleanor's love is winding and unfortunate. Her boyfriend Logan is a man with a family, and she has become a third party. She only learned the truth after being threatened by Lawrence Willow. Stella is Logan's wife, Lawrence Willow is Stella's sister, Alpha of the werewolf. In order to help Stella, he found Eleanor and threatened her. When Eleanor was still a child, she remembered her neighbor Mrs. Howard grabbing her husband and other women together. The people in the town cursed the woman who ruined other people's families and marriages. However, due to Logan's deception, Eleanor became the most annoying person. After learning all the truth, Eleanor was unable to continue this relationship. But things are not that simple The appearance of Lawrence Willow changed Eleanor's life. How was she manipulated by fate?

I sat right next to him and stared at his sleeping face. "I'm sorry. I can't let you see me like this. You deserve someone strong and beautiful. I am nothing but a weak and useless she-wolf." I said out loud. I got up and went downstairs. I was going to go back to my apartment, but there was heavy rain outside. It would make it harder for me to get out of the no-man's-land safely. 'Is your decision already final?' Avi asked. 'Yes, Avi. I don't want to be around when he wakes up. I can't handle another breakup. Not from my mate. The less he knows, the better.' I replied. 'How are you so sure that he is going to reject us? We haven't even met him properly. What if he is not like Uriah?' She asked. 'I don't want to get my hopes high and then end up getting hurt. Yes, he may not be like Uriah. He can be the worst.' I replied. I stood by the door and watched as the rain fell and the thunder roared. They were like music to my troubled heart. At least, even for a little while, all the pain would go. If only the rain could wash all my pain away. Once the rain stopped, I would go back to my apartment and pack my bags. I would go as far away as possible from here. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. For now, I was going to let the rain numb my pain away. That was, until he engulfed me in a hug. "Mate." he groaned.

To revenge herself on her unfaithful fiancé Kevin, Isidora hides her striking beauty behind a plain disguise, and targets his uncle - the most formidable man Kevin fears. After one reckless night, Isidora leaves cash as payment and says lightly, "You were good last night." She tries to leave quietly, but is pulled into his arms. "You think you can walk away after this?" he says, his tone low and possessive. Cedrick is a feared, untouchable titan on Wall Street - elegant, aloof, and completely uninterested in women. Not even the most beautiful socialites in the city can catch his eye. When gossip spreads that he was seen pressing a woman against a wall and kissing her fiercely, no one believes it. When the rumors name Isidora, the crowd scoffs. He rejects even the most beautiful women, so why would he notice a plain girl like her? All doubt disappears when they see the dignified Cedrick drop to one knee to help Isidora with her shoe, pleading softly for just one kiss. When Kevin finally sees Isidora's true beauty and begs for forgiveness. But Cedrick kicks him out at once, slams a marriage certificate on the table, and says sharply. "Call her Aunt."

The Wellington beef sat cold on the mahogany table, a graying monument to three years of wasted devotion. It was my birthday and our anniversary, but my husband, Hamilton McKee, didn't even look at the gift I’d spent months knitting. "Our marriage is a transaction," he said, his voice cutting like a scalpel. "Stop trying to make it a romance novel. I just need you to stop existing in my space for five minutes." Then his phone buzzed with a call from Cuba, the ex-girlfriend he never truly left. His cold mask shattered into frantic concern, a look he had never once given me. "I'm coming," he whispered to her, sprinting for the door without a backward glance at the wife he was leaving behind. I chased him into the freezing Boston night, only to be swarmed by predatory paparazzi. As Hamilton’s Maybach roared away, a heavy camera bag slammed into my shoulder. I slipped on the black ice, my skull hitting a granite gate pillar with a sickening crack. Warm blood trickled down my neck, and as the world tilted, the fog in my brain finally cleared. I wasn't the penniless orphan from Southie he thought I was. Images of sterile operating rooms, complex sutures, and a billion-dollar inheritance flooded back—along with the memory of the car wreck three years ago where I was the one who pulled Hamilton from the flames, not Cuba. How could I have spent three years begging for scraps of affection from a man who didn't even recognize his own savior? Why did I let a fraud steal my life while I played the role of a submissive shadow? When I woke up in the hospital, the trembling girl was gone. I ripped the IV from my arm and stared at the man who had come back only to demand I stay out of his way. I didn't cry. I didn't beg. I simply handed him a piece of paper with one word written in the sharp, confident script of a woman who owned half the city: DIVORCE. "Sign it, Hamilton," I said, my voice like ice. "Because by tomorrow, I’m not just leaving you—I’m taking the McKee empire with me."

My mother called me a defective product and insisted I marry Preston Finch, a man who treated our first date like a corporate merger. During our lunch, Preston demanded I clean his car like a servant, his arrogance snapping the last thread of my patience. I threw my iced coffee right into his lap, sending the cafe into a stunned silence as he screamed insults about my background and the cost of his designer pants. My mother didn't care about the abuse; she only cared that I had lost a "catch," calling me an embarrassment and threatening my future while my flower shop faced imminent foreclosure. Trapped by debt and my family’s relentless cruelty, I felt like a drowning woman with nowhere left to turn. Just as I hit rock bottom, Connor Powers—my brother's old roommate—stepped in, his icy gaze promising a brutal end to my misery. "Let's get married," he said, offering a cold, calculated contract that would shield me from my family forever. I signed the papers, unaware that I had just tethered my life to a man whose world was far more dangerous than I could have ever imagined.

I was drugged and sent to a hotel room to be compromised, but I ended up in the presidential suite with a stranger. I didn't know the man I clung to in my hallucinogenic haze was my own husband, Devaughn Winters, a man I hadn't spoken to in a year. When I woke up the next morning, the terror of what I’d done hit me like a physical blow. I fled, leaving behind nothing but a shredded dress and a lingering sense of dread. I thought I’d finally escaped the cold, suffocating contract of our marriage when I signed the divorce papers, but I was wrong. My mother-in-law arrived at my apartment, freezing my sick mother’s medical funds and threatening to ruin me for the "infidelity" she claimed I’d committed. She dragged my secrets into the light, leaving me with no choice but to fight back with a knife in my hand and a 911 call on speaker. But just as I thought I was free, the man I’d spent the night with—the man who was supposed to be my stranger—tore up our divorce papers and declared that I was his to keep. I was a pawn in a game I didn't understand, trapped between a ruthless father who wanted to sell me for corporate secrets and a husband who demanded I belong to him in life and in death. How did he not know who I was that night, and why is he suddenly claiming me as his own? I’m done being a victim, and if he thinks he can own me, he’s about to find out exactly what happens when a cornered woman decides to burn it all down.

For fourteen years, Faith was the perfect Jarvis trophy wife. Plucked from her parents' funeral at seventeen, she was molded into an obedient, quiet accessory for Branson's billionaire empire. But while she managed his charities and smiled at galas until her face ached, he was busy humiliating her. She found another woman's gold bracelet in his desk, and today, his affair with a 23-year-old actress was broadcast on a massive electronic billboard right above his own Wall Street headquarters. For years, Faith had endured his coldness. He stopped touching her after the second miscarriage. He left her alone to cry in the back of his chauffeured cars at 3 AM. He thought her silence meant she was too weak, too poor, and too grateful to ever walk away. He called her a "cheap pet" who couldn't survive without his credit cards and mansions. He truly believed she needed someone else to want her before she could leave him. He never understood that wanting herself was enough. Did he really think she spent all those lonely nights just crying in her gilded cage? He was dead wrong. Faith didn't just pack a cheap duffel bag to run away. She walked right into his seventy-third-floor corner office, slammed down a zero-compensation divorce agreement, and tossed a highly encrypted USB drive onto his desk. "Sign the papers today, Branson. Or I hand your company's deepest secrets to a short-seller, and we watch your empire burn."

I was Landon Mercer's secret girlfriend and loyal assistant for four years. I thought my absolute devotion would eventually win his heart. But he casually announced his engagement to a wealthy heiress, reminding me I was just a convenient nobody from an orphanage. When I got trapped in a horrific car crash and begged him to call an ambulance, he just hung up on me, annoyed that my bleeding was ruining his romantic getaway. He even blackmailed me with my orphanage's land lease, forcing me to attend his engagement party as a prop. At the party, his elite family and friends brutally humiliated me. They deliberately crushed my broken arm, poured red wine over my head, and kicked me into a freezing pond. When Landon finally pulled me out, he didn't care that I was suffocating and turning blue. "Are you out of your mind? You come out here and cause a scene during my engagement party?" He threw a stack of cash at my shivering body, furious that I had embarrassed him in front of his wealthy guests. Looking at the hundred-dollar bills floating in the muddy water, my four years of foolish love completely died. To him, I wasn't even human; I was just a cheap toy he could abuse and pass around. I didn't cry, and I didn't beg. I dragged my soaked, battered body into a car and headed straight to the penthouse of his biggest billionaire rival. It was time to burn Landon Mercer's world to the ground.

"Sign it. Save her, and I'll give you anything." For four years, I was Damian Wright's 'invisible wife'. While I played the pauper, he poured his soul into his dying first love. Desperate, he blindly signed a stack of papers to buy the 'Gifted Doctor's' time. He didn't read the fine print. Buried inside was our Divorce Decree. "Congratulations, Damian," I said, stripping off my surgical mask to reveal the wife he never truly knew. "You're free." The submissive Amelia is dead. The legendary 'Ghost Surgeon'? That's me. The blindfolded racing queen 'Raven'? Also me. The shadow behind the global intelligence network V-Null? Still me. I was ready to vanish, but Lucas Sullivan-the titan who makes the Wrights look like peasants-blocked my path. When Damian tried to reclaim me, Lucas didn't just stop him; he brought an empire to its knees. "They don't deserve to look at you," Lucas whispered, his touch a lethal mix of protection and obsession. "But if you crave the world, Amelia, I'll burn it down just to hear you say my name."

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.

I was the "perfect" fiancée for Harrison Vincent—regal, silent, and low-maintenance. For two years, I suppressed my career as a forensic accountant to be the "safe" choice that polled well with his family’s shareholders. But at a high-society gala, I found him in a VIP lounge with a socialite wrapped around him. He told her I was just a "boring art piece display stand" he had to drag around until his trust fund was unlocked. I didn't scream or make a scene. I mentally filed a "bad debt" report, tossed my emerald engagement ring into a glass of stale champagne, and walked out of his life. That same night, I found myself in a dark jazz club bathroom, using a strip of my velvet dress to stop the bleeding of a mysterious man with a gunshot wound and eyes like grey flint. The fallout was immediate. Harrison blocked my credit cards, assuming I’d crawl back once I couldn't afford rent. His mother called me a "nobody" while simultaneously begging me to handle the family's medical emergencies because they were too panicked to function. They treated me like a tool they could discard and pick up at will, never realizing I had already moved my things into a cramped Brooklyn apartment. I couldn't understand why they thought I was still their puppet, or why a black Maybach began following me through the city streets. I had saved a stranger's life and ended a toxic engagement, yet the air around me felt heavier and more dangerous than ever. The truth came out at the hospital when the most feared man in the city stepped out of the shadows. It was the man from the bathroom—Collis Vincent, the ruthless head of the family. He didn't just humiliate Harrison; he took my hand in front of everyone and made a chilling declaration. "Harrison is a fool to have let you go, Helena. Your arrangement with him is terminated. From now on, you'll be working with me."

Harlow had stage IV lung cancer and only three months left to live. Her only hope was for her billionaire ex, Ezra, to take in their deaf four-year-old daughter. But Ezra despised her. Five years ago, Harlow's sister Katherine framed her for corporate theft, sending her to a brutal state prison. Ezra believed the lies completely. To him, little Clementine was just another man's bastard. When Harlow knelt on his floor begging for a DNA test, he looked at her with pure disgust. On the day the results were revealed in front of both their families, Harlow thought the truth would finally save her child. Instead, Ezra threw the lab report at her. Secretly manipulated by Katherine's wealth, the paper stated Ezra was excluded as the biological father. "You are a lying, manipulative parasite, and you are done!" Ezra screamed. Katherine offered her a fake pity check, while Harlow's own father cursed her as a shameless stain on their legacy. Harlow stared at the forged paper, her world spinning. She couldn't understand how her own family could be so monstrous, or how Ezra could be so blindly cruel to watch his true daughter be thrown into the streets. The suffocating despair violently ruptured her diseased lungs. A horrific spray of dark blood erupted from her mouth, soaking the fake DNA report and Ezra's crisp white shirt, before she collapsed lifelessly at his feet.