The Lust Of My Husband - Chapter 255 - Support

Ryan «Quicksave» Romano is an eccentric adventurer with a strange power: he can create a save-point in time and redo his life whenever he dies. Arriving in New Rome, the glitzy capital of sin of a rebuilding Europe, he finds the city torn between mega-corporations, sponsored heroes, superpowered criminals, and true monsters. It’s a time of chaos, where potions can grant the power to rule the world and dangers lurk everywhere.

[Warning: Mature Content and a ruthless, villainous, badass mc!]Kael Draven was once the feared leader of an underground mafia empire. A shadow ruler who pulled the strings behind the scenes.But power comes at a price. Kael learned that the hard way when a bullet pierced his ear, and his trusted ally betrayed him, bringing his life to an end.Bang!As his empire crumbled and his body hit the cold floor, all he could think was, ‘What a pathetic way to go.’Instead of hell, Kael woke up in a far more dangerous world, with a body stronger than ever—youthful, shredded, with muscles for days and an ego that could crush mountains.His title? Master of the Crimson Maw.He now led a bandit group that had angered a mysterious force and been wiped out—except for one survivor: a strong, silent gladiatrix who wanted nothing to do with him.To make things even more interesting, his body bore a glowing tattoo that whispered in his mind: “Bond. Through body. Through soul.”But Kael wasn’t one to back down. He didn’t like losing.So what if his base was a dilapidated shack? So what if his army was just one extremely voluptuous warrior?Kael wasn’t here to play small. He was going to turn this ragtag bandit group into a force feared by all, with a harem of deadly beauties who would bow to no one but him!Welcome to the Crimson Maw. Where the training is brutal, the beauties are overpowered, and the only thing more dangerous than an enemy is the bandit king himself.Let the grind begin!

There are a lot of things wrong with Liv Brodbeck. She’s too small, for one thing. When she works in the castle kitchens with her mother, she can’t carry a sack of flour or roll a keg of ale. Baron Summerset’s chirurgeon says that she has brittle bones, so she isn’t allowed to wrestle or sword fight with the other children. Even sledding downhill in the winter brings the risk of breaking an arm or a leg if she falls. Everyone says that she ruined her mother’s life when she was born. Not when they think Liv is in the room, of course, but she overhears all the same. In the kitchen of a less kind lord, a cook bearing a bastard child would have been more than cause enough for both of them to be out on the street. No, a child like Liv doesn’t have much hope. But when she accidentally unleashes a surge of wild magic, she takes her first step on a journey which will lead her from the kitchens of Castle Whitehill, to the cold palaces of the Eld, and beyond, to the graves of gods... What to Expect: - MC starts off very weak, with a lot disadvantages - not just physically weak, but also vulnerable in a socio-economic sense. She has talents, but it is going to take time to develop them. I want to give this process room to breathe, so I hope you enjoy long-term progression. - The MC begins the story as a child. As she grows up, she will have relationships that I intend to be appropriate for her stages of life, BUT THERE WILL BE NO SEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS UNTIL SHE IS AN ADULT. Expect eventual teenage drama progressing into more adult relationships. - There is action, but it is not constant action, and it will again be appropriate for the MCs development. As a child, she will be challenged by child things, and as she grows into power the scale of threats will increase.

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”