Good Morning, Mr. President! - Chapter 39

In a world where fate is dictated by prophecy, heroes are chosen by the gods, and Dark Lords are doomed to fall… Lucian Draeven refuses to play along.Once feared as the greatest Dark Lord in history, Lucian had the world under his iron rule—until the so-called Chosen Hero struck him down in a blinding flash of divine justice. The kingdoms cheered. The world rejoiced.Too bad Lucian isn’t actually dead.Having faked his demise and gone into hiding, Lucian watches from the shadows as a new Dark Lord rises, more reckless and incompetent than ever. Worse, the gods have selected another overly enthusiastic, sword-swinging Chosen Hero to bring “peace” once again.The problem? Neither of them have a clue how to actually rule the world.As kingdoms crumble, wars break out, and the balance of power teeters on the edge of collapse, Lucian comes to a horrifying realization:If the world is going to survive, then it’s up to him—the so-called villain—to secretly fix everything from the shadows.But there's just one little catch…Lucian’s legendary Dominions are still sealed, and the only way to regain his strength is by playing the role of a villain once more—spreading fear, manipulating his enemies, and pulling the strings behind the scenes.Now, as the oblivious Hero and foolish new Dark Lord battle it out, neither realizes that the true mastermind is watching their every move.Because if the world wants a villain…Then Lucian will be the greatest villain it has ever seen.

(Marriage first, love later, short-lived parents, 1v1 double cleanliness)

Du Jingyi braved his fate and married into the Duke’s mansion, becoming the daughter-in-law of a wealthy family.

The husband is Shang Shaoyu, the most popular god of war in the Daxing Dynasty at that time, but it is widely said that he is known as a wife-suppressant.

I thought it was a match made in heaven.

Unexpectedly, on the night of the wedding, Shang Shaoyu only had time to lift his hijab, leaving a sentence of “Cezhou is in danger” and left in a hurry for three years.

After the master returned to court, he remembered that he had a lovely wife in his house.

I thought she had been wronged, but I found that my beloved wife hiding in Xitang Courtyard was living a better life than anyone else.

Everyone in the Duke’s mansion was going through so much trouble, but she was the only one who was pampered…

Du Jingyi just wanted a stable retirement, but he was forced to kill everyone in the back house.

First, half of the bed was given away, and then someone squeezed into my heart for no reason.

Just before her fall.

The general, who had a hard face and a cold heart, had a gentle and charming smile.

He whispered in her ear: Madam, please have mercy…

- Description from novelbuddy

He is the heir of Di Hao Group; decisive, cold-blooded yet dotes on his wife a little too much.

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?