Lipstick

In a city where secrets glitter like diamonds, Isabella’s fairytale life begins to crack the moment a single photo arrives on her phone. Her husband’s tender smile, another woman’s delicate silhouette—and a lipstick she never wore. As midnight winds howl outside her lonely villa, Isabella is forced to chase shadows she never imagined existed. Each step into the truth cuts deeper, revealing a world of illusions and half-spoken lies. Can she untangle the web before it destroys everything she loves—or will the man she gave her heart to become the stranger who shatters her soul?

Book 1of the Rainbow Sisters Series Reese Laurier is the eldest of the seven Laurier sisters—and not just in name. At only eighteen, she's already the official CEO of their father's company, juggling board meetings, business proposals, and her sisters’ daily chaos with military precision and an eye-roll always at the ready. She thrives on control, order, and excellence. Feelings? Flirting? Boys? Absolutely not on the agenda. So when the first day of school ends with her accidentally kissing Raiden Whitlock—the arrogant, insufferable younger brother of her ex—it’s not just an embarrassing mishap. It’s a full-blown PR disaster. At least in her mind. What follows is a comedic spiral of sharp-tongued arguments, tension-filled encounters, and unwanted attention from a boy who seems to enjoy pressing all her buttons—and maybe something else too. Raiden’s persistent teasing starts to chip at Reese’s icy resolve, and worst of all… her heart might be starting to glitch. She’s built for boardrooms, not butterflies. And yet… Cherry-red lipstick, stolen glances, and locker-side threats later—Reese might be losing control of more than just her schedule.

Her silky hair covered her eyes and I only saw her lips. That was so soft and smooth. She applied light peach coloured lipstick. That made her lips perfect...

"Kita akan bertemu seribu purnama lagi, Cintaku. Tapi tentu saja Kau akan menemukanku dalam raga yang berbeda, tunggu aku," begitulah suara jiwa cinta sejatinya. "Jika kita tidak bertemu dalam kurun waktu seribu purnama, maka Dewi Bulan telah mengubah takdir kita. Kau bebas memilih penggantiku di sisimu," serigala itu melanjutkan pesan terakhirnya yang cukup panjang. _______ "Rachel, I love you," Danique mendekatkan bibirnya ke wajah Rachel. Rachel membeku di tempat, ini seperti dejavu. Ia merasa seperti pernah mengalami kejadian ini sebelumnya. Berada di lift berdua bersama Danique dan lelaki itu mengajaknya berciuman. "TIDAK, INI CUMA MIMPI!" teriaknya. "Mimpi? Ini nyata, Sayang," Danique memundurkan badannya karena kaget oleh teriakan gadis itu. Benar-benar membingungkan, Rachel pernah mengalami ini tetapi di dunia mimpi. Ia terbangun waktu itu karena melihat sesuatu yang ganjil di dada lelaki itu. Rachel menggeleng dan memegang dahinya. "Mengapa, Sayang? Pusing?" ucap Danique dengan lembut. "Tidak, minggirlah," Rachel menggeser kakinya menghindari Danique. Lelaki itu berbahaya, mulutnya manis dan lembut tetapi isi otaknya tidak mungkin tidak berisi kebrengsekan. "Ada yang salah denganku?" Melihat tingkah Rachel, Danique semakin bingung. Baru kali ini Ia melihat Rachel pucat pasi, bibirnya memutih dan sangat ketara karena menggunakan lipstick yang tipis. "Tidak, hanya saja Kau berbulu," racau Rachel sembari masih memijit keningnya. "Hah, berbulu? Enak saja, aku tidak berbulu. Apakah Kau pernah melihatku melepas baju? Sini kuperlihatkan dada telanjangku," mendengar tuduhan Rachel, Danique mengotot. Danique melepas kancing jas hitamnya tetapi seketika dihentikan oleh Rachel. "Hei, mesum! Apa yang Kau lakukan? Hentikan!" Danique hanya tertawa, Ia pun mengikuti gadis itu keluar lift dengan sedikit lega. Sedangkan dalam hati Rachel, masih terpatri beberapa pertanyaan tentang kejadian di lift. Ia pernah mengalami itu dalam mimpinya, Ia masih ingat padahal sudah sembilan puluh lima tahun berlalu. Dalam mimpi tersebut, Rachel berteriak lantang karena menyadari apa yang Ia alami hanya mimpi. *** Mahaya Liliana 2 Juni 2022

The room was thick with the smell of wine. January 2025, Aezren leaned against the couch with wine in his hand, His eyes red like the sun during an eclipse, while his hair a chaotic Blonde framed his face with eerie elegance, hoping not to be disturbed by the screams of people. He was the Grim Reaper and the cause of people’s misfortunes, so it was only natural that he was embraced by screams day and night. Without a moment’s notice, he heard another person cursing him. “Not this again…” he groaned as he got up. He sipped his wine as he watched the drunk woman cursing him from the reflection on his wine. Lavinia stood on the parapet wall with high heels, ready to fall at any moment. Her red lipstick messed up, her skin a shade of bright olive, her hair had faded black hair dye, her eyes a shade of deep green, reminiscent of the forest. Her movements came out unstable as she screamed out, “Seems like all doom is attracted to me!” she laughed, tears rolled down her face. “I’m really not,” Aezren scoffed as he rolled his eyes. His eyes blew into saucers at a closer look at her face. “That face, it’s her!” he exclaimed. “I can’t let her die,” he pleaded with desperation as his “heart” raced. Aezren put his glass of wine back on the table with telekinesis as he stood up and teleported to Lavinia. However, it was already too late and she jumped off. Aezren jumped off of the terrace and held her in his arms as he floated in the air. He quickly took her back to the terrace before anybody could notice. Lavinia shut her eyes tight, hoping for the worst to happen—her death. She opened her eyes soon after she realized that she was on solid ground. “What is it,” she smiled, “Am I in heaven or hell?” she walked as she wondered. She was in her own world. “You’re in none,” Aezren told her, about to crash out at her obliviousness. But of course, she was half rat — drunk as hell. He let out a deep sigh. She didn’t listen. He recited some sort of spell, his index and middle finger pointed at her. Since alcohol has similar affects to being dead, it was easy enough for him to get her to be sober. She blinked in surprise. “Wh…Who are you?” she stammered, taking steps back defensively. “Be my muse.” He asked her. He has been searching for a her for over 4 centuries now. Having been living for so long, he has started making paintings to pass time. He has her face like a fuzzy faded painting in his head, and he has always struggled to capture her in his paintings. Finding her was a dream come true for him. She couldn’t die. Not before he painted her. Lavinia’s breath hitched. She was hit with nausea and dizziness. “Please.. please leave me alone!” She begged, her voice came out louder than she wanted it to. Aezren stared at her, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t save you because I care about your life,” he said, voice low. “I saved you because you have a face that doesn’t belong to this era.” Lavinia’s breath hitched again, her head spinning, “What the hell does that even mean…?” “I’ve seen you before. In dreams, in sketches, in brush strokes I never finished.” He sighed, “Centuries of searching. And suddenly, you’re on a rooftop, yelling about doom like some half-broken opera.” “You’re insane,” she whispered, backing away. He didn’t argue. “Probably,” he said with a shrug. “But I don’t care what you believe. You’re here. And I need to paint you before you disappear again.” Lavinia blinked, confusion and fear wrestling inside her. But something about him—his tone, his posture, the weird mix of detachment and obsession—made her pause. Her stomach flipped. The room still spun, but she wasn’t sure if it was just the wine anymore. “Okay,” she said slowly, swallowing hard. TW: Might include topics or references to Self harm. Reader discretion is recommended.

“He died with my name on his lips... and her perfume on his chest.” Arianne thought death would end the betrayal. She was wrong. Her husband is gone — buried in silence, mourned in pain. But the scent of another woman lingers in his shirts. Her lipstick stains the cup Arianne drinks from. And her voice? It echoes in voicemails he never deleted. Every drawer hides a memory that doesn't belong to her. Every reflection shows a woman who lost a war she never knew she was fighting. As Arianne unravels the quiet infidelity that stole her marriage, grief twists into obsession. What begins as mourning becomes investigation. What begins as sorrow becomes vengeance. But what happens when the dead aren't done speaking? And what if she — the other woman — was more than just a mistake? She wasn’t just loved. She was chosen. This is not a love story. This is a haunting told from the side of the widow who refused to die with him.

Marysol looked up at the sky, dreaming of touching the stars. She lifted her palm to the moon and grasped it. The moon was so small, so delicate, and so beautiful. Her eyes were stuck on the holes of the moon. Lifting her lips, she kissed the large craters and left her lipstick stuck to them. She smiled, wishing she could reach a little farther…Her fingertips, as light as porous rocks, reached towards the sky. However, she could not reach. She knew perhaps she would never reach. But it was enough to dream, right? Dreaming would only be enough…enough until she realized that people had already been to the moon before.

The entire nation was eagerly watching the grand wedding between two of the biggest real estate empires—"Royal Estates" and "Prem Real Estate." This wasn’t just a union of two hearts, but a merger of two kingdoms. However, the groom, Romi, the son of Royal Estates' owner, seemed unusually gloomy about the wedding. Meanwhile, the bride, Preeti, daughter of Prem Real Estate's owner, Prem Chaudhary, ran away just before the ceremony! Now, Prem Chaudhary was in deep trouble—his business deals, family honor, and reputation were all on the line. In desperation, he remembered something—his daughter had a twin brother, Monty, who looked exactly like her! In a moment of panic, he came up with a wild plan—Monty would take Preeti’s place as the bride! Monty: "Dad, have you lost your mind? I'm a guy!" Prem Chaudhary: "Until Preeti is found, you ARE Preeti!" Monty: "But…!" Prem Chaudhary: "Son, sometimes, saving honor requires a little lipstick!" To save his family’s pride, Monty had no choice but to go through with this bizarre wedding. Hidden beneath the bridal veil, he was sweating bullets, but no one suspected a thing. After the ceremony, Romi gently told his “bride”

The boardroom was a wall of glass and judgment. At exactly 8:59 AM, Arielle pushed through the doors in a sharp navy dress that clung to her like confidence had been stitched into every seam. Her heels echoed across the floor as she approached the long, polished table where half a dozen stone-faced executives sat, murmuring over papers and steaming coffee. Dominic was already seated at the head of the table. He didn't look at her. Not at first. But he felt her enter. Just like gravity feels the moon. She took her spot near the screen, placed the tablet in front of her, and exhaled slowly. "You ready?" Dominic asked quietly, his voice low, unreadable. She turned to him with a sharp smile. "Born ready." He finally met her gaze—and for a second, something flickered behind his eyes. Not approval. Not yet. But something… closer than before. "Gentlemen," Dominic said to the table. "This is Arielle Sinclair. She'll be walking you through the market projections and proposed strategy updates for Q3." One of the older men raised a brow. "Her?" Arielle didn't flinch. "Yes. Me," she said, smiling sweetly. "Try to keep up." There was a pause—half stunned, half amused—and then, silence She launched into her presentation. And she nailed it. Clear. Sharp. Confident. She wasn't just parroting facts; she owned the numbers. Her explanations were quick, her slides precise, and her delivery unapologetically fierce. For the first time, they weren't looking at her legs or her lipstick. They were looking at her mind. And Dominic? He watched every second like a man watching a match ignite in a room full of gas. At one point, their eyes locked—and she saw it. A crack in his armor. Not desire. Not annoyance. But something like… respect. And it made her stomach flip in a way no designer bag ever had. When she concluded with a succinct, "Any questions?" the room was quiet. Then, one of the board members nodded. "Well done, Miss Sinclair. Concise and well-structured." Dominic didn't say a word. But his fingers drummed once against the table. A silent approval. The meeting ended. As the board members filed out, Dominic remained seated, watching her. She turned to him slowly. "Well?" she asked. He stood, approached, and said nothing until he was directly in front of her. "You surprised them." "And you?" His gaze dropped to her lips for a split second before meeting her eyes again. "I don't surprise easily." She stepped closer. "You didn't think I could do it." "I knew you could," he said, voice dark and steady. "I just didn't know if you would." She tilted her head. "So what now?" His eyes raked over her—not with lust, but with something more dangerous. Calculating. Hungry. "Now," he said slowly, "I stop holding back." She inhaled sharply. "What does that mean?" "It means if you're staying in this game, you better be ready to lose sometimes." She licked her lips. "I never lose." He smirked—slow, wolfish. "We'll see." And he walked out first. But this time? She followed with her chin high, her stride proud, and fire crackling in her chest. She hadn't just passed the test. She'd lit the room on fire. The hallway was quiet after the boardroom storm, but Arielle's heels still echoed like a victory march. She was glowing. Not just from the adrenaline of her flawless presentation, but from something else—something hotter, deeper. The way Dominic had looked at her afterward wasn't just professional respect. It was a crack in his walls. And she intended to widen it. She pressed the button for the elevator, and just as the doors slid open, a shadow fell over her shoulder. Dominic. Of course. He stepped in beside her without a word, towering, silent, composed. The doors closed. Silence. Tension. Air that thickened with each passing floor. She stood beside him, not touching, but close enough to feel the heat rolling off his body. Close enough to catch a whiff of his cologne—clean, dark, devasta

(CONTAINS R18+ CONTENT) Enemies to lovers- check Slow burn- check A cute naughty dog- check Spice? (The author is keeping her mouth zipped) No third-party breakup or misunderstanding. But there are lots of banter and witty comebacks. (The story is planned to be around 200 chapters. No drag) Mu Yiren I never imagined I'd be faking a relationship with my biggest enemy—the untamed, ridiculously charming Feng Junjie, known throughout the city as the "golden boy" of business and a billionaire playboy with a reputation for breaking hearts. But when he dangles a life-changing offer in front of me, the kind that could secure my inheritance, I find myself agreeing to be his "girlfriend." But the thing is….. What if I start seeing the real him? Pretending to be Junjie’s devoted partner is like walking on a razor's edge. He’s everything I can’t stand—sexy, cocky, and devilish, and yet a sweetheart by heart that leaves me flustered by his actions. I know better than to fall for a man like him; my mother’s battle with Alzheimer’s has convinced me to never fall in love. But Junjie isn't just any man. Beneath his easygoing charm is an intensity that leaves me breathless, and he knows exactly how to crack through the walls I have built around me, awakening a passion I never felt before. JUNJIE I need my life back. A sorry attempt at love had me question everything and forced me away from my brothers. Since my ‘ex best friend’s’ constant accusations had gotten out of control, I might as well pretend to date someone and shut her mouth. My definition of a fake date- Beautiful, sexy, tempting…..umm…. insufferable, annoying, and with a mouth that won’t stop running. The mouth with red lipstick. The mouth I want to…. This arrangement was supposed to be simple: fake dating, clear boundaries, no feelings. But the more he plays the role of her devoted partner, the more the lines between fake and real start to blur. And now, he’s no longer sure where the act ends and his true feelings begin. The catch? Mu Yiren doesn’t believe in love. And she certainly doesn’t believe a man like Feng Junjie is capable of anything but heartbreak. But Feng has never been one to follow the rules. Boundaries? He’s about to break them. Deals? They were made to be rewritten. He’s going all in, and this time, he’s not playing pretend. ******* "Are you saying you'd let any man get this close?" "ABSOLUTELY NO!" The words burst out of me, too quick, too honest. His smirk deepens. "Tell me, if I leave you like this, all wound up and aching, will you be sneaking off to use one of your little toys?" "Yes," "Tell me, were you waiting for me to initiate something this past week?" he tugs my shorts more and kisses my navel. My heart hammers and my voice comes out shaky. "N-No." I won't give him the satisfaction of knowing he's right. He chuckles darkly. "Wrong answer. Let's try again." ****

Absolutely. Here's the full write-up again, now with the list of symbolic criminal case references placed in **chronological order** based on when the events occurred: --- Symbolic Criminal Case References (Chronological Order) 1. **University of Texas Tower Shooting** (1966) – Charles Whitman 2. **The Zodiac Killer** (late 1960s–1970s) – Encrypted letters, cryptic messages 3. **The Son of Sam** (1976–1977) – Claimed orders from a demon-possessed dog 4. **The Hillside Stranglers** (1977–1978) – Ritualistic behavior, fixation on sex workers 5. **The Alphabet Killer** (1970s) – Symbolic disposal patterns 6. **The Atlanta Child Murders** (1979–1981) – Serial killings with ritualistic elements 7. **The Lipstick Killer** (1940s, referenced symbolically) – Messages written in lipstick 8. **The Tamam Shud Case** (1948) – *Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam*, mysterious code 9. **The BTK Killer** (1974–1991) – Encrypted letters, biblical references 10. **The Jonestown Massacre** (1978) – Scripture used to justify mass suicide 11. **The Oklahoma City Bombing** (1995) – Anti-government ideology, *The Turner Diaries*, April 19 12. **The Black Dahlia** (1947, referenced symbolically) – Body arrangement, psychological symbolism 13. **The Unabomber** (1978–1995) – Anti-government ideology, coded manifestos 14. **The D.C. Sniper Attacks** (2002) – Tarot card with message “I am God” 15. **The Note Found in Ricky McCormick’s Pocket** (1999) – Two encrypted notes 16. **The JonBenét Ramsey Case** (1996) – Ransom note with coded language --- Merged Symbolic Paragraph Before the tower fell silent at the University of Texas, he left behind a detailed note—an echo of inner torment, or perhaps pain too deep for language. He claimed the voice came from a dog possessed by something unholy, a creature of command and chaos. At the scenes, messages bloomed in lipstick on walls, cryptic and trembling. His rituals were not just acts—they were obsessions, patterns of disposal that spoke in symbols, bodies arranged like offerings, buried in rhythms only he understood. He moved with the weight of ideology, anti-government and apocalyptic, whispering from the pages of *The Turner Diaries*, choosing April 19 like a ciphered prayer. A copy of *The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam* lay near, its spine cracked open to a code no one could read. Letters arrived, encrypted and biblical, sent to newspapers like warnings. In blood, he wrote of endings and scripture. The ransom notes were riddled with language that might have been code, or madness, or both. Some letters spoke in symbols, others in verses. Scripture was not quoted—it was wielded, used to justify the unthinkable. In his pockets, two notes slept, encrypted and silent. And in the end, a tarot card remained, bearing a final message: “I am God.”

This is fuckin stupid I have diplomatic immunity so like Luke , intent or in ur ass pull ur head hit out ya? Absolutely. Here's the full write-up again, now with the list of symbolic criminal case references placed in **chronological order** based on when the events occurred: --- ## Symbolic Criminal Case References (Chronological Order) 1. **University of Texas Tower Shooting** (1966) – Charles Whitman 2. **The Zodiac Killer** (late 1960s–1970s) – Encrypted letters, cryptic messages 3. **The Son of Sam** (1976–1977) – Claimed orders from a demon-possessed dog 4. **The Hillside Stranglers** (1977–1978) – Ritualistic behavior, fixation on sex workers 5. **The Alphabet Killer** (1970s) – Symbolic disposal patterns 6. **The Atlanta Child Murders** (1979–1981) – Serial killings with ritualistic elements 7. **The Lipstick Killer** (1940s, referenced symbolically) – Messages written in lipstick 8. **The Tamam Shud Case** (1948) – *Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam*, mysterious code 9. **The BTK Killer** (1974–1991) – Encrypted letters, biblical references 10. **The Jonestown Massacre** (1978) – Scripture used to justify mass suicide 11. **The Oklahoma City Bombing** (1995) – Anti-government ideology, *The Turner Diaries*, April 19 12. **The Black Dahlia** (1947, referenced symbolically) – Body arrangement, psychological symbolism 13. **The Unabomber** (1978–1995) – Anti-government ideology, coded manifestos 14. **The D.C. Sniper Attacks** (2002) – Tarot card with message “I am God” 15. **The Note Found in Ricky McCormick’s Pocket** (1999) – Two encrypted notes 16. **The JonBenét Ramsey Case** (1996) – Ransom note with coded language --- ## Merged Symbolic Paragraph Before the tower fell silent at the University of Texas, he left behind a detailed note—an echo of inner torment, or perhaps pain too deep for language. He claimed the voice came from a dog possessed by something unholy, a creature of command and chaos. At the scenes, messages bloomed in lipstick on walls, cryptic and trembling. His rituals were not just acts—they were obsessions, patterns of disposal that spoke in symbols, bodies arranged like offerings, buried in rhythms only he understood. He moved with the weight of ideology, anti-government and apocalyptic, whispering from the pages of *The Turner Diaries*, choosing April 19 like a ciphered prayer. A copy of *The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam* lay near, its spine cracked open to a code no one could read. Letters arrived, encrypted and biblical, sent to newspapers like warnings. In blood, he wrote of endings and scripture. The ransom notes were riddled with language that might have been code, or madness, or both. Some letters spoke in symbols, others in verses. Scripture was not quoted—it was wielded, used to justify the unthinkable. In his pockets, two notes slept, encrypted and silent. And in the end, a tarot card remained, bearing a final message: “I am God.” ---

**Dangerous Rose** *She is the queen of shadows. He is the man who walks in the light. Their love was never meant to exist—but fate doesn’t care about rules.* Aurora Vale doesn’t inherit power—she *conquers* it. When her father was gunned down, she didn’t weep—she watched, learned, and burned her way to the top. Now, she commands the city's most feared criminal empire with icy precision and lethal grace. Her name is a whisper in dark corners, a warning dressed in black silk and crimson lipstick. Aurora is more than a mafia queen—she’s a force of nature, unyielding, untouchable, and above all, alone. Kael Ramsey is the kind of man Aurora should destroy. A brilliant prosecutor known for putting monsters behind bars, Kael is bold, incorruptible, and too damn curious for his own good. When he sends the son of a major crime boss to prison for rape, he becomes a marked man. The hunters are closing in fast—until Aurora saves him with a gun in her hand and a warning in her eyes. But Aurora never gives without taking. And she *never* lets go of what’s hers. As Kael is dragged deeper into her violent world, the line between captor and protector begins to blur. With every glance, every touch, they sink deeper into a web of forbidden desire, where loyalty is deadly and love is a fatal weakness. In a city ruled by blood and betrayal, one wrong move could destroy them both. But some roses only bloom in the dark.

“Blood made him hers. Power kept them untouchable. Love made them dangerous.” Ava Carter wasn’t just a single mom — She was an empire. Cold-blooded in the boardroom, flawless in black silk and stilettos, she built her fortune from ashes after her husband vanished without a trace. The world called her ruthless. Untouchable. A myth wrapped in lipstick and lethal precision. But behind closed doors? She was soft. Clingy. Hopelessly devoted to the only thing she ever truly loved — her son. Adrien Carter — golden boy of the elite, heir to her empire. Top of his class. Star of the team. Born with everything, trusted by no one. Raised in shadows, trained to smile with secrets in his mouth. The world wanted him — but he only ever belonged to one person. To them, he’s perfect. To her, he’s still just “baby.” But when a hidden threat resurfaces — one tied to the father Adrien never knew and the blood Ava tried to bury — mother and son are forced to step out of their roles and into their legacy. As enemies circle and loyalty is tested, Adrien must choose: stay golden, or go dark. And Ava? She’ll do what she’s always done. Love too hard. Protect too much. And kill for the boy who calls her “Mom.”

The world ended not with a bang… but with a moan. A viral plague wiped out most men, twisted others into monsters, and shattered everything that once resembled civilization. Now, the cities burn, the strong prey on the weak, and women are left to survive in a world dripping with violence, chaos.… and desire. Lira Orin was supposed to die on Day Two. Betrayed. Beaten. Sold for scraps. But fate had other plans. She didn’t awaken as a victim. She awakened as a sinner. A mysterious voice whispered from the darkness inside her offering power for a price. Every sin she commits... fuels her evolution. Lust sharpens her charm. Wrath strengthens her fists. Greed fills her pockets. Gluttony, Pride, Envy, Sloth each sin a weapon, each act a step toward godhood. Now, she’s not just surviving She’s seducing warlords, taming monsters, toppling queens, and bending the apocalypse to her will. She doesn’t run from danger. She wears it like lipstick. But every power has its price. The deeper she falls into sin, the louder the system whispers. "Feed me more." Making her commit sins she didn't want to even though she enjoyed it.

status: complete April Jackson a 24 years old painter's life took the worst turn, in just a day she lost everything, her job, her home, and went totally bankrupt. In the darkest moment of her life, there was a flicker of hope. She got a generous offer from a stranger she couldn't resist. That one leap of faith changed her life drastically. As she ends up living with the most sort out bachelor in the city, Brad Sebastian Smith, a grumpy handsome billionaire who has an hidden malicious agenda. April wasn't the ordinary girl she thought she was, there were secrets about her life she is totally clueless about. She has something the vicious Brad Sebastian Smith wants, and he will stop at nothing to obtain it from her. Grumpy meets sunshine as their world collides. Broody Brad couldn't resist the bubbly jolly April innocent charms as he was caught up in a personal conflict of choosing April over his ambitions. Can Brad carry on his ulterior motive when April has completely hold his heart captive? Excerpt# Brad I can't believe this is the same quirky April Jackson I saw at my study days ago. Gone are the ridiculous Jeans and T-shirts. She was wearing a sexy black dress that caresses her body like a second skin, bringing out beautiful curves I didn't notice before. I nearly stumbled when my gaze fell on her sexy long legs, and her wild curly hair added a fierce appeal. She looks like sin. I had to support my weight by pressing my palm to the wall, lest I trip and fall. "Mr. Smith you are back," she said snapping me out of my daze. "Mr. Smith, are you ok? you look pale" she asked. I clenched my fist, my eyes darkens as I took a step towards her, I cornered her to the wall. Ever since I met her I feel like I am losing control, from her pushing my buttons, getting under my skin, and now to this. She is going to be trouble! I gaze at her with lust. Her eyes flickered open. For the first time, I noticed she has beautiful grey eyes. My gaze fell on her plump lips, painted with red seductive lipstick. She bit her lips stirring up a strong urge to brush my lips on hers, devouring her lips with the craving desire surging up in me.

Helen settled in the living room, the silence heavy like an unwelcome weight. The only sound in the room, the soft ticking of the wall clock, reminded her that time was going—time she no longer wanted to count. Her mind a mist of thoughts, she subconsciously followed the edge of her coffee mug, her fingers fluttered slightly. None of the questions gnawed at her throughout the long, sleepless night could be answered. \n \n She had only arrived from the hospital early that morning. The doctor's words pulsed in her mind like an unusual symphony: *You're pregnant, Helen. Your baby is now. The child was not anybody's kid. This offspring was Jack's. She ought to have felt something, should have been elated, but she did not. No happiness came from the news. Not today at all. Not after everything that had turned out. For months now, Jack had withdrawn. At first there were minor indicators—forgotten anniversaries, the sudden late work hours, the missed phone calls. But everything changed when she discovered the lipstick on his shirt collar, the one that was not hers, the one she was sure didn belonged to anyone he worked with. He didn't even attempt to hide it. Though he was not one to be totally truthful either, Jack was not one to fib. \n \n The door banging wide open disrupted her thinking. \n \n Jack's fists clenched at his sides in the doorway, his face red with fury. Once warm and love for her, his eyes were now cold and free of any compassion. "Helen," he howled, his voice cutting, "I want a divorce." The words stung her as a slap to the face. The way she felt she knew everything came undone was as if the planet moved below her. Her stomach turned and her heart pained. Things were not meant to be like this. Her trust, her love, her dedication she had provided him. And still, here he was saying she is over. Jack waited not for an answer. His eyes on hers, he tore into the room. He appeared more furious than she had ever seen him. "I'm seeing Jane," he snapped out, as though he had just revealed a new line of sneakers. Your worst enemy. the one who really knows how to make me happy. Helen is better than you. She is more sensitive, finer, and more affectionate. She truly pays attention when I speak; not like you." \n \n Helen's throat clenched as she fought to consume the lump of bitterness rising inside her. Jane? The idea of it made her stomach turn with a combination of shock and treachery; this very same Jane with whom she had been loved for years? How might Jack accomplish this? How could he betray her with the one person she trusted most? Jane wasnuggested completed. "You at most can't give me a child," he went on venomously. "I maybe do not even know why I am still here. For years you have been infertile. I must not continue living like this. I need someone who can provide me the future—someone who can fulfill me. Helen blinked, his words piercing her heart like stings. She opened her mouth to talk, to justify herself, to describe how she had exhausted every means to conceive, but the words caught in her throat. It was pointless. Jack had his mind fixed. Already left, he would not change no matter what she said. \n \n Her lips released a cold, derisive laugh, a hushed sound that sounded like it echoed all over the otherwise quiet room. "You believe it is that simple?" she said, her voice full of feeling trembling. "You believe you can simply discard everything we have developed because you found someone else? Simply younger, simply prettier, simply someone who can give you children?" Jack's eyes stiffened, his jaw set, and he walked a step toward her. Absolutely. Whenever first person pronouns are used in sentences, I respond. I have had it with you, Helen. There is no need for me to justify myself. Simply sign the documents. It has come to an end.

The clock ticked past midnight, each second echoing like a hammer in the hollow silence of the apartment. Rain lashed against the windows, the storm outside mirroring the tempest brewing in Emily’s chest. She sat rigid on the couch, her fingers digging into the upholstery, eyes fixed on the door. David’s keys jingled in the lock, his laughter—warm and carefree—seeping through the wood before he did. He stumbled in, tie askew, the sharp tang of bourbon on his breath. But it wasn’t the alcohol that made her stomach churn. It was the cloying sweetness of jasmine perfume clinging to his collar—a scent that didn’t belong to her. “Where have you been?” Emily’s voice trembled, though she’d rehearsed the question a hundred times in her head. David froze, his smile dissolving. “Work ran late. You know how it is.” “Work ends at six, David. It’s *midnight*.” She stood, her legs unsteady. “And since when do you wear lipstick to the office?” His hand flew to the smudge of crimson on his white sleeve—a shade too bold, too *alive* for the muted tones of their marriage. His face hardened. “You’re imagining things.” “Am I?” She stepped closer, the jasmine scent now suffocating. “Or is it *Jane* from accounting? The one who ‘just needs your help’ every time I call?” His laugh was a cold blade. “You’re paranoid. Always picking fights—” “Paranoid?” Her voice cracked. “You haven’t touched me in months! You come home smelling like *her*, lying to my face—” “Enough!” He slammed his fist on the table, a vase rattling. “I’m tired of your nagging! What do you even do all day? Sit here and wait to accuse me?” The words struck deeper than any slap. Emily’s breath hitched. “I gave up my career for you. For *us*—” “Us?” He sneered. “There *is* no ‘us.’ Just you, digging through my things like a desperate—” She didn’t see his hand move. The crack of his palm against her cheek split the air, her head snapping sideways. She stumbled, clutching the wall as the taste of copper bloomed on her tongue. David loomed over her, his eyes wild, foreign. “You… you pushed me to this,” he hissed, grabbing his coat. “Clean yourself up. You’re pathetic.” The door slammed. Emily slid to the floor, tears mingling with the blood on her lip. Outside, thunder roared. But beneath the pain, a spark ignited—a flicker of defiance. Her gaze landed on the shattered vase, its jagged pieces glinting in the lamplight. *Pathetic.* The word echoed, twisting into a vow. She would rise. Not for him. Not for “us.” But to make him regret the day he underestimated the woman he’d reduced to ashes. -**Chapter One: The Scent of Betrayal (Continued)** The air hung thick with venom. David’s chest heaved, his earlier bravado fraying at the edges. Emily wiped her bleeding lip with the back of her hand, her eyes blazing. “You think Jane *wants* you?” she spat, her voice a razor. “Or does she just pity the man who needs to steal confidence from a bottle and affairs to feel alive?” David’s jaw twitched. “Shut up.” “Why? Because it’s true?” She laughed, cold and sharp. “You’re a cliché, David. A middle-aged fraud in a tailored suit. Even your *precious* promotion—did you earn it, or did you cry your way into it like you did when your father called you a disappointment?” He lunged forward, but she sidestepped, her words relentless. “Jane must be desperate. Or blind. Tell me, does she know you couldn’t even—” “I said *shut up*!” he roared, his composure crumbling. “Couldn’t even *what*?” she taunted, stepping closer. “Finish a sentence? A marriage? Or is that why you’re so bad in—” The slap exploded like a gunshot. Emily’s head whipped sideways, her body crumpling to the floor. The world blurred—a kaleidoscope of shattered glass and spinning shadows. Her cheek burned, but worse was the silence that followed, broken only by her shaky breaths.

The Ashwood Hotel is no ordinary abandoned place. It is a living tomb. In 1930, a mysterious fire claimed the lives of 23 people within its opulent halls—including a girl whose body was never found. Since then, the walls have whispered with silenced screams, ash rains from the ceiling, and anyone who enters the hotel becomes part of its eerie legend. When four young urban explorers venture into the decaying building, they have no idea that they are not only facing ghosts but the hotel itself. Sven, the anxious one with a knack for seeing the invisible. Natalia, the diva who feels her facade of sarcasm and lipstick beginning to crack. Jacob, the tough guy whose cool demeanor dissolves into smoke. And Lucas, the idealist who realizes too late that some spirits don’t want to be photographed. But the Ashwood is hungry. Its corridors shift, its victims return as shadows, and the stench of smoke becomes a choking reality. When the group realizes they haven’t ended up here by chance—that the hotel has called them—a race against an unrelenting past begins. But how do you fight walls that breathe? And what happens when the spirit hunting you... is your own reflection?

"Are you quite sure you're alright? You look a little... flushed." His hands were still tangled in my hair, gripping the strands in his strong fingers. My lipstick on his lips, smudged. Heat emanated from his gaze, eyeing me like a predator did his prey. As usual, he didn't say much, but I knew he wanted me. To devour me. Claim me. Own me. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Lily Robinson is young, fresh out of college, and will go to any length to secure the money needed for her father's chemotherapy. When she gets a strange job offer from a mysterious businessman to spy on his billionaire cousin for him, it seems all her problems have come to an end. However, this job immediately becomes far more complicated when the billionaire pays her double to work for him instead, and lie to her employer. Caught in a web of love, deceit and betrayal, Lily is unsure of what sort of game she is being played into, and will do just about anything to survive. Of course, there's also the not-very-negligible issue of her gorgeous billionaire employer. Will the sparks between them blossom? Or will the dangerous games she's playing lead to her destruction?

“Lila, will you stop looking like someone dragged you to the funeral of a relative?” Diana shouted over the music, pulling me forward by the wrist. "It's a club! You're supposed to have fun, get a life!" Fun of course, I should get much of it as much as I want. It's true. The fun was finding your trusted boyfriend of three years in bed with no other but your best friend. The pleasure was being humiliated and left alone with the pieces of your self-esteem shattered before you, with no attempt of repair. I didn't want to be here, but Diana insisted and I was too numb to argue or go against her wish. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," I said, rising a little on my heels. "Oh, don't complain anymore," Diana cried, pouring a funny looking cocktail into her hand. Her lipstick spread in a sly smile. "Drink enough of this. You need much of it to relax." I looked at the glass like a time bomb, everything about it looked suspicious. "I don't drink." "There's always a first time, you'll drink tonight." Diana clinked her glass with mine. "Trust me, one sip won't kill you." I hesitated, but the words "trust me" did something funny to my pride. I didn't want her to think I was weak, not capable of making choices, not after everything I'd been through. So I took a sip. The bitterness from a single sip burned my throat and I grimaced, but Diana was already putting another glass in my hand. "Come on baby girl!" she shouted at me. On the third glass, the room began to tilt dangerously. The lights dimmed and my thoughts became unclear, unhealthy and shattered. "Diana," I managed to murmur, trying to calm every bit of myself down. "I think I probably should sit for a moment..." "Okay, then!" she interrupted, leading me towards a group of men seated in a VIP area enclosed by ropes. "Come on, sister, let's meet real men that make things happen. Forget about that cheating loser of yours! It's time to wine and dine with the happening men." "Wait, I don't...I can't..." I stammered as my legs flopped under me. Before I knew it, a man smelling of sweet cologne pulled me into his hairy lap. "Hey, pretty girl," he said, his smile stretching too far. I tried to pull away, but my arms felt like jelly. "No, I don't...I can't..." "Relax," he said, running his rough hand up my thigh. "Keep your silly hands off me!" I tried to scream with my whole strength, but it was weak. Panic gripped my throat. And then, suddenly, I was pulled to my feet miraculously. "What are you planning to do to her?" a cold, loud voice cut through the chaos. I closed my eyes, my vision flickering, until my gaze landed on the man standing before me. He was tall, with a jaw so sharp it could cut glass and eyes the color of ice. His tailored suit clung to him like a second skin, and his presence was so imposing that the fat man retreated. Heartbroken after discovering her boyfriend's infidelity, Lila Monroe is pushed into a one-night stand by her jealous step-sister, Diana. Unknowingly, she ends up in the bed of billionaire Sebastian Knight, instead of a random guy as planned by Diana. Their paths cross again months later, when Lila is forced to marry Sebastian to protect her mother's political image. To complicate matters, Sebastian's brother, Ethan, who Lila had a childhood crush on, lives in the same house and rekindles old feelings. Torn between two brothers, Lila struggles to overcome the complexities of love, betrayal, and family rivalry. As enemies close in and secrets are revealed, Lila must choose between the man who challenges her and the one who still make feel safe.

Isis walked slowly into the bathroom, her heart beating with unease. She heard muffled voices, followed by soft chuckles. Her steps faltered. The voices were familiar — a man’s deep tone mixed with a woman’s gentle laughter. A cold feeling crept through her chest. She recognized them, but she desperately hoped she was wrong. With trembling hands, she moved closer to the door, the sounds becoming clearer. Her breath caught as she gently pushed the door open. The sight before her made her freeze in shock. Barry, the man she loved and planned to propose to, stood in the small bathroom, holding Melisa — her friend. His lips, smudged with lipstick, confirmed what words couldn’t. Time seemed to stop as her gaze locked on them. A wave of pain shot through her, leaving her numb. The door creaked under her shaky hand, drawing their attention. Barry spun around, panic flashing in his eyes. “I… I can explain,” he stammered, wiping at the lipstick on his mouth with trembling fingers. Isis felt hot tears roll down her cheeks. Her vision blurred, her chest tightened, and without a word, she turned and ran.

The one feared by all -Rodney Casimero The one bold enough to defy - Caroline Riviera The flirt - Guillermo Sandoval. And their messed up lives.

Lin Shen traveled through the Tang Dynasty's Zhenguan period and also bound with a divine-level supermarket system. From then on, he opened a supermarket in Chang'an City. The first customer of the supermarket was Princess Changle. With the assistance of the system, Lin Shen quickly rose to prominence in the Tang Dynasty. Princess Changle: Boss, I'll take this lipstick, and you can give the matches to my father. Princess Chengyang: I'll call you "good brother," can you give me a few boxes of chocolates? Li er (emperor): I'll appoint you as the King of Chu. Your food relief has saved the people of the world. If that's not enough, you can choose my daughter as you wish. Lin Shen: I just wanted to open a supermarket, why are you making such a big deal out of it...

Pushed to her death. Esmeralda Galatea, wakes up two years before her life officially turns upside. With her eyes opened to the plots and schemes around her, her only goal is to survive. She would do everything to survive even if that means stealing her sister's husband-to-be, the renowned Kai Adler. who she knows is more than capable to protect her Her acts of Deception gets exposed and riles a whole lot of chaos. With her husband's refusal to accept the marriage, she is left with no option but to find a way to remain his wife at all cost. would she be able to make him fall in love with her? or what other methods are there to keep his family name? Losing is not an option or she stands against losing her life once again. ... "You're despicable!" The man's cold lips spat out. Disdain in his eyes as he stared at the woman before him. Esme smiled softly and settled herself in on the dressing table. she picked up a tissue and casually wipes the blood red lipstick on her lips. her luscious lips parted "stop calling yourself names, after all i bare your last name" The man snorted "is that what you stand to gain from stealing your sister's husband? my family name?" Esmeralda's hands paused. her eyes lifted and stared at him through the mirror. His name? "I stand to gain everything you'll also gain from this marriage" "you overhype yourselfm You're useless to me and my family. I stand to gain nothing from you" He spat out crudely. Esmeralda was not offended, rather she smiled even brightly. He had no idea how wrong he was...

"Open your beautiful almond eyes those are filled with tears by me, doll." he is making me vulnerable day by day. I didn't open my even he grabbed my hair, I just closed my eyes. The hairs on my back rose, and when his hot tongue Licking my tears from my neck I opened my eyes when he pulled my bandage with his teeth and placed wet kisses and he bit my bursie, and I screamed in pain. He raised his dark eyes to meet my brown eyes which were filled with tears.  "How sexy you look with your eyes shed tears and your pink plumpy lips covered with blood like acred lipstick." He traced my lips. "You will be the death of me." He is eating my upper lips, sucking blood. I just released my tears in pain. He kissed me until he was out of breath, he pulled me towards him until our breath mingled, and my soft button nose touched his nose.  "I'm getting addicted to biting your lips until there is no drop of blood left to suck. those tears which shed due to my assault on you're lips. You're making me crazy and feel heaven digging my nails in your delicate and smooth flesh," He pressed my body into him I could feel his rock chest with my soft body. I'm struggling in his firm hold, he can do anything to satisfy his demons. _______________________ Eesha Sharma a true, honest, and well-witted attorney, owns a leading law firm in the country. her father who was a corrupt politician, as well as owning an illegal business. fixed her marriage with a criminal to gain power and a higher position. Eesha plotted against his father by marrying one of his enemies to destroy her both enemies. just as people suggest, "Keep your family close but your enemies closer." Akash Mehta was her pawn in her game to gain the power to end her enemies. A cold-blooded criminal, who came from a criminal family. his family is the reason for snatching the person she loved, inspired, and her only weakness. The phrase "wild and free like a sea" evokes a sense of limitless freedom and untamed beauty. Just like the sea, nature possesses an innate wildness that cannot be contained or controlled. The sea, with its vastness and ever-changing nature, symbolizes the essence of freedom. It dances with the wind, crashing against the shore with unyielding force, creating a symphony of sound and motion. It is home to a myriad of creatures, each living their lives in harmony with the natural rhythms of the ocean. Like the sea, we too can embrace our wild side, casting off the constraints and expectations of society, and connecting with our true nature. To be wild and free like a sea is to embrace the unpredictable, explore uncharted territories, and live with a sense of awe and wonder. It is to embody the raw power and beauty of nature and to live life authentically, unapologetically, and in harmony with the world around us.

Maru excused herself to the stranger. "Wait," pigil nito. "You don't look okay. Your lips are pale," pansin nito sa labi niya. Wala sa sariling napahawak siya sa kanyang labi. "Must be my nude lipstick," kaila niya. "Excuse me, Sir, pero kailangan ko na pong bumalik sa trababo." Magalang na aniya at inalis ang pagkakahawak nito sa kanyang kaliwang braso. Maging ito ay nagulat na nakahawak pala ito sa kanya. Ngunit bago pa siya makalayo ay tuluyan siyang bumuwal at bumangga sa dibdib nito. Umiikot na ang paningin niya at sigurado siyang hindi na niya kayang lumakad o kumilos mag-isa. Marahas na napamura ang lalaki at naramdaman na lamang niyang umangat ang kanyang mga paa sa sahig. Binuhat na siya nito at hindi na siya nakatanggi pa lalo na nang lumapat ang mukha niya sa matipunong dibdib nito. Hindi rin sinasadyang nasamyo niya ang panlalaking amoy nito na humahalo sa amoy ng alak. "Ang bango mo," wala sa sariling pansin niya rito. Mas lalo niyang binaon ang mukha sa dibdib nito Marahas itong suminghap at bahagyang dumiin ang pagkakahawak sa kanya. "Don't move too much. Baka mahulog ka," matigas ang tinig na sambit nito.

“I am Celeste Luna, the illegitimate daughter of the clan’s Luna.” I barked bitterly, landing gracefully on the ground. “I highly doubt that I am your mate. I am just a nobody. The only way out is a mark from my mate. Thanks for ruining my time off. Go find your real mate.” Walking away from him, he was my mate but he deserved better. Running into the kitchen, my shaking fingers spun my hair up into a bun. Tying an apron around my waist, I set out silver platters. Applying foundation on my face, the red lipstick glided over my lips. Shaking out my nerves, my bloody worn white flats clicked out of the kitchen with a tray of the first appetizers. My breath hitched at the sight of the done up reception hall in the main log cabin of our village, Genovi eyes met mine, confusion twisting his face.

Zesther (Thinking that most women don't like men that know a lot about make-up trying to make Sereena dislike him): Wait, are you using the Sweet Red lipstick from Alferra Cosmetics? I have always wanted to owe one! Sereena (The owner of Alferra Cosmetics that likes men with no fragile masculinity taking out the bag of her company products that she always brings in case she had to advertise them): Do you want to have one? I think Sweet Pink would suit you better instead of the Sweet Red shade. Zesther (Trying hard to make himself sound like a fuck boy): Actually, I am very into doing the 'deed'. I'm afraid I cannot be faithful if my... n-needs are not satisfied. Sereena (Seeing through Zesther's clumsy act that can't even say the word 'sex'): Is that so? Then, I just have to make sure that your sexual needs are always satisfied. Don't worry, I am confident and good in that aspect. Zesther (Flustered and blushing hard): H-how can you say s-such l-lewd things in p-public! ---- Zesther Callisto is a hopeless romantic guy that wished to someday have a sweet romance with the woman of his life. He yearned to have a romantic love story similar to the dramas he enjoyed watching. He is the type of person that dates to marry and a person that made sure to avoid women that he instinctively knew are not up to a serious relationship built upon love. Sereena Alfierra is a strong and independent woman that has peculiar taste in men. She likes men with soft personalities, especially those that look sexily cute while crying but while she would date them, she never took these men seriously. In terms of physical charms and personality, Zesther is definitely her type but her upbringing made it so that she was not the type of woman that could love someone easily. When Sereena decided to marry someone to make the only family member she cared about happy, her path crossed with Zesther. One side wanted to have a casual marriage while the other side wanted a serious one causing the start of a long chase. Will our leads find a happy ending with each other?

I didn't mean to time travel, especially not to a place like this! But I think I have to stay, at least a little while longer. If I want to keep living that is. ----- When Emily Long opened up the box of her late grandmother's heirlooms she didn't expect much. The contents were surprisingly nice antiques, especially a strangely beautiful compact mirror. The real surprise however was traveling back in time with them. Even worse, she's landed herself in the walled city of a famous pleasure town. A place where most normal women cannot enter unless they're a resident. That means only one thing in this ancient times red light district. She could just go back through the mirror and forget this ever happened. If only it weren't for the blood like messages written in lipstick counting down to her death. Now she has to go back and forth completing vague quests until the cursed family mirror is satisfied. Along the way she can't help but get attached to an ill fated courtesan with a face eerily similar to her own. Great great great great grandmother? Is that you? Is that even enough greats? ----- Warning: sensitive topic regarding the setting. It will be placed in a brothel(s) & red light district and such related topics will come up. However while there may b R18 contents, there will be no such scenes.