Your Pretty Author

Astraea Alora Hera aka Astraea Is the most valuable psychologist of L.M. Hospital she has it all from long black wavy hair a goddess voice and angelic face but not just that she's also a talented doctor and psychologist and no one can resist her charms. but what if one day her path will cross with her childhood crush but now it's not the lovable, sweet and caring Zero that she liked before, it's the complete opposite he's now a complete psycho. She was assigned as his psychologist. the aggressive Zero Elton Seviller can only be tamed by Astraea Alora Hera. Her... Just her. Will Alora be able to cure him? Astraea POV A few years ago I had an accident and lost my memory. now I will work as a psychologist. 1 month ago I graduated from L.U and was assigned to this hospital. I'm just a beginner so I'm still adjusting. So far so good, my colleagues here are kind. I just got rid of my patient who was a victim of r*pe, calming her down and giving her advices, she is slowly getting better compared to when she first came here she was miserable and troubled now she is talking to me and other people here . Today a new patient is coming. I wonder who it will be. Anyway, I was about to go to my office when I heard someone break and scream so I immediately went to it, I saw a familiar person. Did we meet? But wait did he disappear? he was with a lot of guards with him and his hands were handcuffed. He kept looking like a criminal. He was still struggling. He has that intimidating but gorgeous face that every woman could d13 for. I admit it, he's handsome. Doesn't it look like she's too attractive to be taken to a mental hospital? What did he do to bring it here? He's tall, handsome, big built and deep voice exactly like my type-- what am I talking about? "Leave me alone you bvllsh*its" He shouted and struggled. I just saw him here, he seems to be the new patient we are talking about coming here. That person is brave. It will definitely be difficult for the one who will be assigned to be his psychologist. He's handsome and aggressive. when he suddenly looked at me, our eyes met, his gaze was terrifying as if he had seen what he had been dreaming and looking for for a long time. I just looked away and walked to my office because I had to talk to someone important. When I came to my office, I saw a woman, she was beautiful, white and looked like she was in her mid 20's, she stood up when she saw me. "Are you Ms. Amanda Seviller?" He nodded and sat down where he was sitting earlier. I sat in my swivel chair and started Kona "What do you mean?" I will ask. "You... I mean you Ms. Hera." I was surprised by what he said. "What do you mean?" "I need you Ms. Hera, No... My brother needs you. Can you be his personal psychologist?" He begged for it. "What are you saying, if I'm one of you, just look for someone else, there are many good ones out there, why am I still there?" It's weird because it's too much. "As long as you have to do is take care of my brother, I will pay you big, big big. no matter how much you pay, how much do you want 500 thousand? 1 million? Name it. I heard that when you save money, you want to travel. Don't you want it? Your job will be simple, you should always be by your brother's side. Deal or no deal? Think carefully Ms. Hera." when he convinces me. I thought about it. Maybe he really loves his older brother, right? "Fine...Deal. Who is your brother? What's he like?" I will ask. It's like we have an idea who will take care of me, right? "Ah my brother? He's the one who just arrived earlier." I was shocked by what he said. Huh!? "What?!" I screamed. Does he mean the one that disappeared earlier? What trouble did you get yourself into, Astraea? Someone's POV The guards escorted me to this fckg mental hospital because I'm crazy... crazy for her. i saw a familiar figure from afar. Finally. "Found you." I whispered to myself with a smirk. How I miss her, She's still as gorgeous as ever. I badly want to hug her but these useless bvllsh*t guards are stopping me. You have a day with me too. "Arghh get off me you b@st*rds if I ever escape here I'll k*ll every one of you. Mark my words."

"Allen, get over it. You can shoot with me later!" I screamed loudly. It looked at me but quickly avoided it. I can still see him shaking his head. I heard the laughter of the students I was with today in the Basketball gym. although that was shouted against my will, I could not do anything. My pocket depends on it for a week. I didn't pay attention to the few people who were close to me who almost became flies in my ears. I saw the grin of my female best friend, who was now sitting where the other players of our school's Basketball team were sitting. She can sit there because she is the girlfriend of Jackson, who is the Captain of our team who is a friend of 'Ace' Allen. I could see him from where I was sitting because our team was on the other side. Here I sit in the part where our team's opponent is. 'It's like looking at my damn best friend.' I was stunned when the referee blew his whistle. I didn't realize that I had been staring at my best friend for so long and was no longer focused on the game. "THREE POINTS FOR GOMEZ!" the Announcer shouted. A loud scream erupted inside the gym. I looked at the score board for a moment. 78-54. Only our team. "WHOO! YOU ARE GOOD MY BABY. YOU'LL GIVE ME THREE KISSES LATER TOO!" Another shame came out of my mouth. I looked at my good best friend, who almost fell out of his seat because of laughter. I noticed Allen glancing at me but he also quickly returned his gaze to the person watching over him when our eyes met. The ball was theirs again, in an instant he grabbed it. Awesome! It dribbles the ball. I saw a small smile on his lips. Don't get excited. Just dare.' I glanced at the paper I was holding. Everything I'm going to shout when Allen shoots is written here. "THREE POINTS FOR GOMEZ!" 'L*nghiy* why is it coming from?!' I blew out air before shouting what was written on the paper. "LET'S GO, BABY. THREE ROUNDS LATER." The basketball gym roared with laughter from the students. My good best friend also fell off the chair. Jackson gave him a worried look, but my good friend didn't seem to mind and returned to his seat. The suppression of laughter is still evident here. 'I wish you would fart!' I never thought that an introvert like me could do this just for money. Kelly is holding my money that I have saved from working part-time jobs. He forcibly took my money from me and threatened that if I didn't do his dare, it would rot in his hands. Kelly is rich, so I know he won't touch it because it's just a coin to him. Also, even though that girl likes to tease me, she is not that kind of person. He said he just wants me to have a love life because I'm getting old. Even though I'm only 17. mom even lets me play. He also said he wanted Allen for him because he said he had no girlfriend since birth. Even the lips are said to be fresh. 'L*nghh girl. How rude!' The referee whistled to signal a short time out. I glanced at the score board again. we are still alone and only four minutes left. It looks like another win again for the school basketball team. I wish! 'My Baby can do that, I mean Allen.' The referee blew his whistle again. The players of both teams went to the middle of the court at the same time. The opponent has the ball. I stared hard and barely blinked at what Allen was watching. Mud! His big man, I mean his body is so wide that it's like he's not in high school. They are the same height as Allen but his body is really different. Allen isn't thin, his body is just right and he's wide, but not as wide as the person he's guarding. 'It's like the body of the bouncer is double the body of the person he's guarding.' I gasped when it hit Allen's shoulder, but Allen didn't even fall even though I knew it was too strong. I don't know if the man could have done that because the referee didn't kick him. And I don't even know anything about the game of basketball. the man couldn't get away from Allen no matter what he did so he was caught because he held the ball for so long. His eyes were sharp and angry looking at Allen. I felt nervous when his angry eyes landed on me. I pinched my left leg because of fear. My eyes moved around as if looking for something. It stopped right in the eyes of Allen who was also looking at me now. My eyes narrowed when he mouthed 'I'll protect you' which messed up my brain. 'Why would he do that for me?' I looked away from it and it landed on my best friend who now had a big smile on his lips. 'Another weird one!' The game resumed, and as expected, our basketball team won. I was about to leave because I was too embarrassed but the mic made a noise that hurt the ears of the students present. My eyes searched for Kelly, she was in the middle and she was holding the mic. He looked at me with a smile on his lips. 'Mud! what nonsense is he going to do again?!' "May I have your attention, please?" he began. "That girl." This taught me that the students immediately turned to my place.

Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world. In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief." But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius. Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be.

The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.

Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun. Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos. As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage. The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice. Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her.

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.

The roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand. Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn. She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back.

My husband Julian celebrated our five-year anniversary by sleeping with his mistress. He thought I was a clueless trophy wife, too dim to notice the vanilla and tuberose scent on his expensive suits. He was wrong. For years, I played Mrs. Vance, hiding my brilliance while Julian claimed my patents. An anonymous email confirmed his ultimate betrayal: photos of him and Scarlett Kensington in ecstasy. My heart didn't break; it solidified into ice at five years wasted. I activated "The Protocol" for a new identity and escape countdown. Playing the doting wife, I plotted his downfall, catching him with his mistress selling my work, and publicly snapping his credit card. His betrayals and stolen work ignited a cold, calculated fury. He had no idea the monster he'd created. I was dismantling his empire. I shredded his patent papers, stripping him of his ill-gotten gains. With a final tap, I initiated "Identity Erasure." Mrs. Vance was dead. Dr. Evelyn Thorne had just begun her counterattack.

Vivian clutched her Hermès bag, her doctor's words echoing: "Extremely high-risk pregnancy." She hoped the baby would save her cold marriage, but Julian wasn't in London as his schedule claimed. Instead, a paparazzi photo revealed his early return-with a blonde woman, not his wife, at the private airport exit. The next morning, Julian served divorce papers, callously ending their "duty" marriage for his ex, Serena. A horrifying contract clause gave him the right to terminate her pregnancy or seize their child. Humiliated, demoted, and forced to fake an ulcer, Vivian watched him parade his affair, openly discarding her while celebrating Serena. This was a calculated erasure, not heartbreak. He cared only for his image, confirming he would "handle" the baby himself. A primal rage ignited her. "Just us," she whispered to her stomach, vowing to sign the divorce on her terms, keep her secret safe, and walk away from Sterling Corp for good, ready to protect her child alone.

Serena Vance, an unloved wife, clutched a custom-made red velvet cake to her chest, enduring the cold rain outside an exclusive Upper East Side club. She hoped this small gesture for her husband, Julian, would bridge the growing chasm between them on their third anniversary. But as she neared the VIP suite, her world shattered. Julian's cold, detached voice sliced through the laughter, revealing he considered her nothing more than a "signature on a piece of paper" for a trust fund, mocking her changed appearance and respecting only another woman, Elena. The indifference in his tone was a physical blow, a brutal severance, not heartbreak. She gently placed the forgotten cake on the floor, leaving her wedding ring and a diamond necklace as she prepared to abandon a marriage built on lies. Her old life, once a prison of quiet suffering and constant humiliation, now lay in ruins around her. Three years of trying to be seen, to be loved, were erased by a few cruel words. Why had she clung to a man who saw her as a clause in a will, a "creature," not a wife? The shame and rage hardened her heart, freezing her tears. Returning to an empty penthouse, she packed a single battered suitcase, leaving behind every symbol of her failed marriage. With a burner phone, she dialed a number she hadn't touched in a decade, whispering, "Godfather, I'm ready to come home."

Yelena discovered that she wasn't her parents' biological child. After seeing through their ploy to trade her as a pawn in a business deal, she was sent away to her barren birthplace. There, she stumbled upon her true origins-a lineage of historic opulence. Her real family showered her with love and adoration. In the face of her so-called sister's envy, Yelena conquered every adversity and took her revenge, all while showcasing her talents. She soon caught the attention of the city's most eligible bachelor. He cornered Yelena and pinned her against the wall. "It's time to reveal your true identity, darling."

The acrid smell of smoke still clung to Evelyn in the ambulance, her lungs raw from the penthouse fire. She was alive, but the world around her felt utterly destroyed, a feeling deepened by the small TV flickering to life. On it, her husband, Julian Vance, thousands of miles away, publicly comforted his mistress, Serena Holloway, shielding her from paparazzi after *her* "panic attack." Julian's phone went straight to voicemail. Alone in the hospital with second-degree burns, Evelyn watched news replays, her heart rate spiking. He protected Serena from camera flashes while Evelyn burned. When he finally called, he demanded she handle insurance, dismissing the fire; Serena's voice faintly heard. The shallow family ties and pretense of marriage evaporated. A searing injustice and cold anger replaced pain; Evelyn knew Julian had chosen to let her burn. "Evelyn Vance died in that fire," she declared, ripping out her IV. Armed with a secret fortune as "The Architect," Hollywood's top ghostwriter, she walked out. She would divorce Julian, reclaim her name, and finally step into the spotlight as an actress.