I won't fall for the queen who burned my world - Chapter 276: Mission seduction successful

In previous life, she was ignorant and naive. She was a “villain” owning a horrible reputation ever since childhood. She was framed by her friend, betrayed by her beloved, and ended up alone and died miserably. When she was reborn in the 1980s, she vowed to recognize the true nature of the people around her and work diligently. In this life, she would never let her younger sister die for her again. She will be an excellent female soldier, a pious daughter, and a qualified elder sister.Let's watch how she goes all in, saving her sister from great distress. She will turn the tide and lead her family through the reform and opening-up, striving for prosperity and a better life.

Neo was on the verge of achieving his dreams, set to graduate with flying colors and secure a bright future. But fate had other plans.One moment, he was lounging in his apartment, enjoying his simple and ordinary day. The next, he found himself in a nightmare—a brutal game orchestrated by the hidden rulers of the world.But Neo wasn’t just another victim. When he was pushed to the brink of death, something awoke within him—an ability unlike any other. God-Tier Adaptive System .Every injury made him tougher. Every battle made him smarter. Every encounter shaped him into the perfect survivor.Now, he isn’t just fighting to escape. He’s evolving. And soon, those who once saw him as prey will learn to fear him.'To kill those sick monsters, I must become something far worse.'

BOOK TWO OF THE HAMILTON SERIESWARNING: A Regency Era novel. Adult content with detailed smut…Read at you own risk⚠️⛔️Genre: Historical Romance / Smut / Enemies-to-Lovers / Mystery / Comedy[Book Two of the Hamilton Series. Can be read as a standalone, but better enjoyed after Lady Ines’ Scandalous Hobby.]To the world, Duke Rowan Hamilton is the perfect gentleman. But in the bedroom, he is a man possessed.Rowan Hamilton has it all: a Ducal title, the face of a fallen angel, and a smile that makes debutantes faint. He is the “Golden Duke”—charming, responsible, and utterly adored by society.But it’s all a lie.Beneath the coats and polite manners, Rowan is a man haunted by a ghost. For three years, he has remained faithful to the memory of a masked woman who stole a kiss, bested him at a game of chance, and vanished into the night. He doesn't want any one as his wife; he wants her.When his domineering aunt tires of his bachelorhood, she hires London’s most notorious underground matchmaker to force the issue.Enter Miss Delaney Kingsley.She is sharp-tongued, infuriatingly competent, and entirely unimpressed by his title. Her mission? To drag Rowan to the altar with the season’s “Diamond,” Lady Celine, within three months to collect the juicy payment Rowan’s aunt had to offer.Rowan intends to fire the meddlesome woman. But when Delaney looks at him with those hazel, intelligent eyes and orders him around like a young lad, he feels the first spark of life he’s felt in years.He decides to play her game. He will let her “coach” him on how to woo a lady. He will let her teach him how to dance, how to flirt, and how to seduce.But he has no intention of using those lessons on Lady Celine.“You were hired to find me a Duchess, Miss Kingsley. But the only person I want in my duchy and in my bed... is you.”As the lessons turn into forbidden nights and the bickering turns into scorching passion, Rowan begins to suspect that his matchmaker is hiding a secret of her own.She moves like a shadow, handles a rifle like a soldier, and tastes exactly like the ghost he’s been hunting for three years.What to Expect:* The Golden Retriever Duke: Who turns into a possessive Alpha behind closed doors.* The Matchmaker Trope: She’s trying to marry him off; he’s trying to take her clothes off.* High Heat: Slow burn that explodes into intense smut.* Competence Kink: He falls harder every time she bosses him around.* Cameos: Featuring the chaotic domestic life of Duchess Ines and Duke Carcel (and their baby Harry!).Excerpt:“Your Grace, please focus,” Delaney snapped, adjusting his cravat with efficient, gloved hands. “Lady Celine is waiting in the ballroom. You must look at her as if she is the only woman in the world.”Rowan caught her wrist, stopping her movements. He stepped into her space, backing her against the heavy oak door of the study, his “Golden Boy” mask slipping to reveal the hunger beneath.“And how, exactly, does one do that, Miss Kingsley?” he whispered, his voice rough. “Show me.”“I—I cannot show you, I am merely the coach—”“Then teach me,” he growled, lowering his head until his lips brushed the sensitive skin of her neck. “Teach me how to pretend I am not burning alive every time you walk into a room.”

“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

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