MTL - Imperial Uncle - Chapter 12 Start reading

A story about a weak, small larva with a human soul, who travels all the way to become the ruler of the stars.

There is a saying that goes, a rabbit does not eat the grass by its own burrow.Doctor Jiang said seriously: “Nonsense, this is clearly the case of the pavilion closest to the water enjoying the moonlight first.”He is the young and promising psychologist Jiang Baizhou, skilled in understanding people's hearts, cold and noble. After marrying his childhood sweetheart Nie Cenjin, he was only enthusiastic about showing off their love.For several consecutive days, Cen Jin received strong complaints from relatives and friends about his 'shameful' behavior and finally couldn't bear it anymore: “Can't we just be a bit more low-key?”Doctor Jiang lazily lifted his eyelids and said, “No way, if they don't like it, they'll just have to hold it in.”Later, the always gentle and lovely Cen Jin declared she wanted a divorce, Doctor Jiang narrowed his eyes slightly: “Divorce?”Nie Cenjin pouted seriously and earnestly: “Yes, divorce.”Sitting on the sofa, Doctor Jiang hesitated for a moment, the depths of his eyes revealing a hint of laughter as he slowly got up, walked over, wrapped his arms around her waist, and gently caressed her increasingly round belly with his other hand: “Be good, we don't dream during the day.”【A sweet romance with mutual covert love, 1V1, are you lacking sweetness today?】

“I was scared!” she cried, interrupting him. “You're a married man, you have a wife now, and I didn't want to ruin that. I didn't know how you'd react. And I didn't want my children… our children… to be caught in the middle of more pain.”He looked at her in shock, breath caught in his throat. “You just said… our daughter earlier,” he said slowly.Yes,“ she answered. Jasmine and Hanith. They're yours.”Aaron's breath hitched, stumbled back a step, staring at her like he was seeing her for the first time again.“You told me they weren't mine,” he whispered.“I lied,” she admitted. “Because I was scared. I wanted to protect them. I thought if you knew, you'd take them away. And I also thought you wouldn't want them because you are married now.”“Five years,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “I had children... and never knew.” He clenched his jaw, struggling to process everything.“They are your children,” she said softly. “And now your daughter needs you.”~**~A single mother, Katherine Prescott was the perfect definition of a B3 classy lady—beautiful, brainy, and brave. She worked her ass off to ensure her children never lacked, building a name for herself while running from the unwanted attachment of the past.But when the past she thought she'd left behind the day she fled with her babies came crashing against the walls she'd built—six years later—everything she buried resurfaced.What if the forgotten spark and desires kept pulling her back into the very past she wanted to forget? What if her babies wouldn't stop asking about their father? Can she really give him a second chance at love… and risk losing herself to passion again?Aaron Knight was a celebrity. He never believed he'd see her again. But there she was—still breathtaking, still beautiful as ever. He wasn't letting her go this time. He would get her back, by hook or by crook.Two problems: he was married… and she was already a mother.

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.”