"You're running away from your wedding in a hoodie?" "And you're wearing sunglasses inside a plane. Who's the freak here?" William, a popular Thai idol, runs away on his wedding day to avoid an arranged marriage. On a flight to South Korea, he meets Est-a polite, calm fan who offers him a place to stay. But as days pass, William begins to notice that Est might not be as ordinary as he seems. "By the way, you talk in your sleep." "I what?" "And you're even prettier when you cry." "..." Soon unknown sparks started to bloom between them but will it turn into a fairytale romance or something obsessive and dark. "I hate it when you get close to others." "...Why?" "Because you're mine." "...You're insane." "And you're mine." •Pictures taken from pinterest• •Do not repost or copy my works•

In a world where power is currency and trust is a rare luxury, Chi Cheng rules his empire with an iron will and a heart locked in ice. His life is a game of calculated moves - until Wei Suowei crashes into it, reckless, stubborn, and far too tempting for a man who can't afford weakness. They're supposed to be enemies. They're supposed to destroy each other. But fate has other plans. A shared secret forces them into an uneasy alliance. Every glance becomes a challenge, every touch a risk, and every lie a test of loyalty. When a rival love interest stirs jealousy, and betrayal lurks closer than either suspects, the line between love and hate blurs into something far more dangerous. Slow-burn romance. Relentless tension. A dance of desire and revenge in the shadows of the mafia world. Only one question remains: when the final bullet is fired, will it be aimed at the enemy... or the one they can't let go?

Beau HATES Oliver Fowler. But Oliver doesn't hate Beau.. quite the opposite actually. Oliver is the univeristies 'Golden Boy', adored and admired by all. ...well, um, everyone except Beau. *** Oliver lets out a strangled laugh, placing his hand against my chest and pushing me back against the wall. Hard. "If I am so golden, how come I am doing this?" My brows draw. "Doing wha-" I don't have time to finish my sentence, because Oliver Fowler has slammed his lips onto mine. ***