My Formula 1 System - Chapter 12: Momentum Begins

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.

15 years ago, his elder brother was killed right in front of him in the middle of the night – killed by their most trusted driver. Since then, Stefan had a hard time sleeping and often got nightmares. He learned not to trust anyone.

Cayenne worked almost all day and all night. She only got three hours of sleep every day. She was the breadwinner of their family since her mother was diagnosed with tuberculosis. She thought she would have a great time working as a receptionist in a hotel.

Until…

“I’ll pay you an additional $3000 a month. Sleep with me.” Stefan placed a signed check on the table in front of her.

Her head was spinning at the large sum of money. She can finally buy her mother’s medication and send her brothers to school without worry. But to sleep with him?

“I’m sorry if I come off rude but, I can’t sleep with you sir.” She tried to refuse politely, afraid that she will lose her job if he felt displease towards her.

Stefan took off his coat and placed on the backrest of his chair. “Think about my offer carefully. It wasn’t so bad sleeping with you after all.”

It was a mistake she made on her part when she fell asleep right beside him on his bed, drunk and dizzy.

Will he make the mistake of trusting someone again? Will he entrust his life to her by sleeping soundly beside her? How will they face each other when they started to unveil the mystery of their identities?

We are born free; yet, why do the deities and Buddhas claim supremacy!Bodhisattva, Buddha, Deity? ... I shall wipe out all your Divine Souls!If the heavens obstruct me, I will shatter these heavens; if the earth obstructs me, I will crush this earth!Tathagata, today you must return to me—five hundred years!...

“Where the f*ck am I?”

One day, he suddenly fell into a world of barbarism and superstition.

“F*ck, I ain’t a savage!”