Ain T That Loving You

From Erwin Wickison I never asked to be here. One moment I was living my life, and the next I was dragged—along with millions of others—into a place ruled by a system that treats us like pieces on a board. Every Game is built to break something, whether it’s a body, a mind, or the small parts of myself I keep pretending are “good.” I’ve watched people die. I’ve watched people change. And I know I’m changing too. I just hope there’s something human left in me by the end… if there’s even an end. WARNING. This book contains smut, psychological decay, moral collapse, human intimacy twisted into survival, and a variety of horrors that do not wait for your permission before sinking into your mind. It will not hold your hand. It will not apologize. And it will not stop once you open it. If you continue, you’re choosing to step into a sequence of events designed to peel apart the comfortable assumptions you rely on to feel “safe.” Some of you will be fascinated. Some of you will be disturbed. Most of you will not remain the same. I’m not here to reassure you. I’m only here to tell you one thing: Whatever you think this is, whatever you think you know… you don’t. And once you begin, you can’t go back. — Welcome to the Games

Have you ever been an object of ridicule not because you did anything wrong but just by the very fact that you existed, an existence which others seems inferior and worthy of being bullied, humiliated and taunted. well if you have experienced when this an opportunity to see such but if you haven't this is a perfect story. Marcel Audrey, the infamous University pauper was everything that anyone would want to be except that he was a well recognized church rat. He suffered greatly in the hands of the well do individuals while also being ruthlessly dumped by his girlfriend but when he thought that everything including the universe was against him he was offered an opportunity, An unconventional opportunity but all the same followed him as he runs a show that no one could and can never.

"Ciccio," she spoke, taking a purposeful step forward. "In the realm of business, there exists a strategy known as 'the hostile takeover.' It revolves around the idea of 'if you can't beat them, buy them.' Since you are dissatisfied with the way this hospital is managed and how the staff treat patients, rather than struggling to pay the bills amidst difficulty, why not consider acquiring the hospital itself?"

In his final moments, he was given a chance to be back in the past by sacrificing his system. Clark promised himself that he would not let fate decide his future. … “Hey stop right there! Who are you? If you don’t have an appointment then you may leave” “Tell your master that I want to meet him” “Wait, Mister, Who are you?” “I am… Clark Montediore” His eyes glowed in the radiance of an amber. The mark of the Montediore. And that is how the missing child of Montediore came back. For his parents? For the love that he had for his family? For power? Of perhaps status? No, it is for something much more important than that.

Maxwell Reed had his life going smoothly for him until he came to discover that his loving girlfriend, Vicky Thorman had been cheating on him with the Governor's son, John Reider. Powerless and poor, the least Maxwell could do was to pack up and lay low so he could endure his disgrace and slowly heal from his heartbreak, but what happens when he comes to find out that he is the long-lost son of a billionaire's descendants? And when his grandmother breaks the silence on how he had been adopted, will this help him reconnect the dots on what happened to his real parents?

Welcome to Roshniar Roshniar is a seemingly ordinary world, with a bloody history... like all worlds that bear the fruit of life... Indeed it is ordinary save, for its one paculiarity... Roshniar is a world that has known the touch of the gods, or so all Roshnians would have you believe... Believe in their gods if you will, or not... it matters not... For the day of change has come, in a different way from the ancient rights... None could have been prepared for the day on which the Titanic God set his gaze upon their world... Welcome to Roshniar! A world in which the apocalypse has arrived... Great change awaits those who walk these lands where our journey begins... And perhaps even their views of the gods will change forever... But that's a thought for another day... --- A/N: To all who join this is a High-Fantasy so buckle up for a long journey filled with world building and locations across the land and stars... and many a place you cannot yet fathom, if you aren't a fan of world building than this probably isn't the place for you, , it's going to be a long road and I hope to guide many a reader along this path filled with many a twist and turn. And once more: Welcome to Roshniar!

The Return of the Sword God!. The most powerful Sword Cultivator swung his sword against his enemies. The Law of time was reset! The Evolution restarted. Now, he is back to the beginning. Every Karma must be sought out. If you can survive my first strike, you can't survive the second. Because I am the most powerful Sword Cultivator.

The city calls him “nobody.” On paper, he’s just a broke young man with nothing but scars and a bad attitude. But in the shadows, Caden Pierce is the Septamillionaire Heir—the ruthless King of the Underworld. His enemies fear him. The elite don’t even know he exists… yet. After ten years of brutal training, Caden’s ready to tear his enemies apart and claim everything that’s his. When the spoiled heiress Vivian Montgomery is thrown into his arms—literally—he gets a taste of power, privilege, and the poison of high society. She calls him a “nobody.” Her circle mocks him. They have no idea he owns the ground they walk on. “You think money makes you untouchable?” Caden smirks, stepping over his latest rival. “Sweetheart, I buy men like you for sport and toss them out with yesterday’s trash.” But when the old-money dynasties scheme to bury him, and gunmen storm the club with Vivian in their sights, Caden doesn’t blink. “Let’s get something straight,” he growls, shoving a pistol under the lead thug’s chin. “You came for a princess. You found the king.” Enemies want his head. Socialites want his wallet. And Vivian—she wants him gone. But Caden Pierce didn’t survive hell to bow to anyone. He’s got seven million reasons to settle old scores. And one savage promise: this city will remember his name. Buckle up. The king is back—and he’s done playing nice.

“Even with your annual salary, you can’t afford my daughter’s perfume!” Maria growled at Sawyer. “A mediocre man like you is not even qualified to smell her perfume, let alone hold her hand!” “What perfume do you use, Sasha?” Sawyer asked. “All our family members use Goldblood perfume,” Sasha stated proudly. “It’s the best there is. It’s worth 800K a bottle—not something you can afford.” “You should leave, or our Big Dog will see you out!” Maria warned in an icy tone. Little do Maria, Sasha and their family members know that Sawyer, the man they kicked out of their mansion, was the Empyrean, the only son of the two legendary figures and was also a potential candidate for the supreme commander of Earth’s armies! They all refuse to believe his words, but when the truth gets revealed, they all crawl and beg for his forgiveness!

They dragged his dying mother out of her hospital bed like she was garbage. Joshua Hart had endured three years of humiliation as the powerless live-in son-in-law of the wealthy Cavesh family. He swallowed every insult. Every sneer. Every reminder that he was “nothing.” All for one reason—his mother’s life depended on their money. Then, on the day she needed emergency surgery, they cut him off. “Admit your mistake. Apologize,” his wife said coldly. “Maybe then I’ll consider helping.” At the hospital, nurses laughed in his face. “Swipe your card, beggar.” “You can’t even afford oxygen in here.” They called security. They called him worthless. They didn’t know that twenty minutes earlier, a forgotten investment had turned him into the majority shareholder of Galaxy Tech. They didn’t know his account now held billions. They didn’t know the “pathetic son-in-law” had just wired one hundred million dollars to the very hospital trying to throw his mother into the street. When the director whispered, “Joshua Hart… the transfer came from you?” He simply picked up his black card and looked at them one by one. “You were right about one thing,” he said calmly. “I won’t beg.” Now the people who mocked him will learn a brutal truth: Never humiliate a man who has nothing left to lose—especially when he becomes everything.