kerdaino

Love is citrusy. It can be sweet as it is sour... Medical school. Check. Wonderful grades. Check. Famous parents. Check. Great love life. Skip. There's nothing Abigail Espérer wants more than to flee her parents suffocating shadows and save lives, so internship is a cape day for her. Graceland hospital seems to be the perfect place to make friends and live freely without the pressure of being offered a couple of bucks in exchange for a picture with her parents. Everything is perfect... Until she runs into Jack, her freakishly handsome supervisor which happens to be her first love. Her only love infact... And no matter how hard she tries or how much she would give to have him talk to her like he once did when they laid under the stars, but perhaps some wounds take time to heal and some won't just heal...   Jackson Heartland has always wanted to be a doctor. He had never been so sure about anything else before. He'd also wanted a big house, a large bookshelf, a dog to go to country games with and a wife to love. Without a doubt he knew Abigail was it for him right from the very first sticky handshake, her quirky spirit was just as magnetic as her beauty... But if wishes were horses then his seven-year old self would ride all day. He may not have gotten everything he thought he couldn't live without, but his life at Graceland was good and coffee made it greater, so when he bumps into twenty eight year old Abigail at the elevator he wants nothing more than his life to go back to the way it was_just coffee and routine_but love just doesn't work that way... It never has.


Stage! Light! Action! Wait...       When young single mom and singer, Adele Freeman is approached by a talent manager who is convinced he could elevate her from just singing in bars to singing in big stages all in the name of Broadway, she knows saying no is not an option. It's not like the bank would take the excuse of her not born for Broadway as collateral instead of her father's dream farm... She finds her way in L.A and in the most famous art school in Hollywood in the blink of an eyes, now she has to not only find a way to blend into this new world she's found herself in, but also deal with arrogant, young lads... The types of Anders Carter.   Anders knows for sure that Adele's the prettiest girl he'd ever seen, so why not just approach her like a normal human being... Instead he fumbles it and now she thinks he's the most arrogant man she's ever met. For some reason, he can't quite look away or quit talking when he's with her. He's sure of his scars... His drive to ruin everything... But he's also sure about the saying that everything happens all of a sudden. Especially love...

Eva, a young kid who lost both her parents in a hit and run case, was found by a top secret organization called Sentinel. Sentinel, a top secret organization run by former spies and government agents,with unlimited and unrestricted access to advanced technology and resources. It aims to uncover the dirty dealings of successful business men and women. Determined to use Eva as an effective weapon, Sentinel trained her to be the perfect spy. Driven by her hatred for criminals, Eva becomes the shadow huntress. Planted in George's life, she was sent to find out everything about him that could be used to bring him down. Carefully planning each phase of her plan, Eva befriended George, slowly worked her way into his heart and got him to put a ring on her finger, it was all a contract to Eva. Working tirelessly to expose his dirty secrets, Eva finds herself falling in love with the man she aims to destroy, Eva chooses to abort her feelings. However life has more in store for her, as she discovers not everything she was told was true. Only time can tell how this drama unfolds.

Ava made a huge mistake when she was in college by getting married to her college sweetheart, she didn't know that life wasn't all sweet and beautiful. In a loveless marriage, she decided that she needed to set both her and Miles free, she shouldn't have ever done what she did at the beginning, she knew she had been obsessed and she needed to kill that obsession. After divorce, Miles finally realises that he has feelings for her, but would she be able to fall in love with all over again, after all he did?. Or will they keep going in circles just to try and find a way around their feelings?!. Find out.

Katherine Mayers never saw herself as a spy, but when the FBI recruits her to go undercover as a housekeeper for Carson Cooper-a ruthless arms dealer-she has no choice but to dive in. Her mission: gain his trust, gather intel, and stay alive. But Carson isn't just dangerous-he's also dangerously irresistible. As Katy's cover deepens, so do her feelings for Carson. Torn between her mission and her heart, she's hiding more than just government secrets. When a deadly business deal goes wrong, and Carson's life is on the line, Katy must risk it all to save him-while keeping her own identity hidden. But when Carson uncovers her betrayal, a shocking twist changes everything. He's been undercover too. Now, with their trust shattered, can they work together to stop a bigger threat, or will the secrets between them destroy their only chance at love?

At 16, Mila wants nothing to do with hard work and she wants nothing more to do with Ryel, the soon to be alpha of the Silvercoast Pack. But why does she seem happy and fulfilled when she discovers they are mates on his 18th birthday. Raped, rejected and betrayed, an outcast in her own pack she no longer views life as roses and rainbows. Now a human in the human world with no recollection of her past, she chances upon her beloved mate. He remembers everything but she has no idea who he is or what they were to each other. Will he let go of the past and move forward? Will her heart give him another chance? Is he willing to let her go again?

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.