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... A few seconds later, the little secretary realized something and suddenly turned his back and said nervously: "Then... Then I told everyone that Mr. Jiang's meeting at noon should not start yet? Just say you and Brother Fang went out to discuss business, Mr. Jiang? "

The little secretary opened one eye and looked back carefully, only to find that Fang Zheng and Jiang Xiyao had left the company.

He breathed a sigh of relief, staring curiously at the door that had disappeared, and mu ...

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The disgraceful illegitimate daughter had been detested by her whole family, but suddenly won the love of the young master of the Huo Family.

Since then, he turned into a “slave” of his wife and pampered her.

Mrs. Huo: “They say I am an illegitimate daughter, and totally out of your league.”

Master Huo: “Who has such a big mouth! I’m gonna sew it up!”

Mrs. Huo started circling on his chest with a finger, “They also say you’ll get tired of me sooner or later.”

Master Huo held his wife into his arms, proving his love to her with practical actions, “Nonsense! My wife’s body is soft and easy to be pushed down to bed, how come I will get tired of you!?”

Mrs. Huo: “Pervert!”

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As a princess that could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne gets kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realizes that she’s in over her head.

She had heard of these cursed mountains before― rocky terrain, freezing temperatures, and the land was ruled by a man feared by many within the continent.

King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North.

Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus’s ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone’s imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring.

No one outside of Vramid had ever met the fearsome king before. Not until Daphne.

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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Driven by his need for revenge, Lazarus, the Lore’s most ruthless vampire, plots to seize the throne of Wilyra and rule it along with his betrothed, the fae goddess Maeve who thrives in a borrowed body.

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