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She Belongs To Me Novel

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Entre Fortaleza y Pasión
By: XyueRománticaRecibí un video pornográfico."¿Te gusta este?"El hombre que habla en el vídeo es mi marido, Mark, a quien no veo desde hace varios meses. Está desnudo, con la camisa y los pantalones esparcidos por el suelo, empujando con fuerza a una mujer cuyo rostro no puedo ver, sus pechos regordetes y redondos rebotan vigorosamente. Puedo escuchar claramente los sonidos de las bofetadas en el video, mezclados con gemidos y gruñidos lujuriosos."Sí, sí, fóllame fuerte, cariño", grita extasiada la mujer en respuesta."¡Niña traviesa!" Mark se levanta y le da la vuelta, dándole una palmada en las nalgas mientras habla. "¡Levanta el culo!"La mujer se ríe, se da vuelta, balancea las nalgas y se arrodilla en la cama.Siento como si alguien me hubiera echado un balde de agua helada en la cabeza. Ya es bastante malo que mi marido esté teniendo una aventura, pero lo peor es que la otra mujer es mi propia hermana, Bella.************************************************** ************************************************** **********************"Quiero divorciarme, Mark", me repetí por si no me escuchó la primera vez, aunque sabía que me había escuchado claramente.Me miró fijamente con el ceño fruncido antes de responder fríamente: "¡No depende de ti! Estoy muy ocupado, ¡no pierdas el tiempo con temas tan aburridos ni trates de atraer mi atención!"Lo último que iba a hacer era discutir o discutir con él."Haré que el abogado le envíe el acuerdo de divorcio", fue todo lo que dije, con la mayor calma que pude.Ni siquiera dijo una palabra más después de eso y simplemente atravesó la puerta frente a la que había estado parado, cerrándola con fuerza detrás de él. Mis ojos se detuvieron un poco distraídamente en el pomo de la puerta antes de quitarme el anillo de bodas de mi dedo y colocarlo sobre la mesa.Agarré mi maleta, en la que ya había empacado mis cosas y salí de la casa.
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Goodbye Scumbag, Hello True Love
all"I'm so over Cassandra." Aidan Ziegler sneers, swirling his wine glass with a lazy smirk. "A real woman is soft and sweet—like Clara. As for her..." In the corner, a glass suddenly shatters in a man's palm. Cassandra Callum stands frozen, holding the cake she made to celebrate their three-year anniversary, eyes locked on the blood trickling down from his sharply defined fingers. Tristan Freeman, head of Freeman Group, slowly wipes his hand clean. His dark gaze sweeps over her tear-reddened eyes. "Ms. Callum, would you like to marry me?" The city explodes with gossip. Everyone thinks a broke little designer has climbed her way into wealth and power— what no one knows is that this marriage is a trap Tristan set five years ago. His private gallery holds over a thousand sketches of her profile—from that day in sophomore year when she crouched in a rainy alley feeding a stray cat, to her backstage at a runway abroad, gently arranging jewelry. Late at night, he stares at security footage, cigarette in hand, as Aidan kneels in a storm, soaked and shaking. Tristan suddenly pulls his delicate wife into his arms. Later, a finance reporter captures the once cold and ruthless Tristan, down on one knee before Cassandra. His hands tremble as he holds a pregnancy test. Cassandra flashes her wedding ring and laughs softly. "Surprised, Mr. Freeman?" Tristan, once known for being sharp and vicious, blinks back tears, then presses a trembling kiss to the faded mark on her ring finger. "Cassie, when you were 22, I wanted to say..." "Say what?" He leans in, his voice hoarse as he whispers, "The cake was really sweet."
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Her Tears Are His Weakness
allThe prince of Jedo, Leonardo Garrett, is known for his cold, untouchable, and ascetic nature. A string of rosary beads hangs from his wrist, making him look as if he's one step away from renouncing the world and remaining celibate forever. While his friends indulge in the pleasures of high society, he simply shrugs and says, "I'm not interested, nor do I understand it. But you guys can go ahead." This changes one day, when the pressure to marry becomes unbearable. Cornered, Leonardo declares, "If I have to get married, I'd rather make a vow of celibacy." His grandfather nearly has a heart attack. Meanwhile, Samantha Newton, a fake heiress who's been kicked out of her family, is left with nothing—no parents, no status, and no wealth. Mocked by others and forced to scrape by, she takes on part-time jobs just to survive. By sheer accident, while delivering alcohol one night, she walks into the wrong room and meets Leonardo. "What scent are you wearing? Is it some kind of love potion? Because it's working." From that moment on, Leonardo is completely addicted to her. The once cold and distant man falls hard, his devotion unwavering, his obsession unstoppable. He willingly steps down from his pedestal, letting love consume him. Before, while others clocked out, Leonardo worked late into the night. Now, while others are furiously typing away, Leonardo clocks out early. "Work is work, but home is home. My wife can't live without me—I'm heading out first." Wait a second… who can't live without whom? So, while the rest of them slave away like workhorses, Leonardo becomes the ultimate lovesick fool?
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