HER POSSESSIVE BILLIONAIRE - Chapter 11 - : Who was behind this?

“Do you love...me?” My eyes stung as I asked my so-called husband.“No,” he said quietly. “I don't love you. I don't need to love you. I just need to take care of you as I promised your father before he died.”My world crumbled down on me.His words hit me like a physical blow. I staggered back, the world spinning around me. “S-So that's it? This whole time, you've been with me out of some sense of duty?”Elijah looked away, unable to meet my gaze. “Your father asked me to look after you, to make sure you were happy and safe. That's what I've been trying to do.”“Fine then. Let's get a divorce!” I announced, loud and clear.___Ash always believed he could make his cold and vicious hubby fall in love with him.However, after three years of marriage, Ash received only betrayal from Elijah. Elijah never loved him and was only with Ash because he promised Ash's father that he would take care of him after his death. Ash, heartbroken and sorrowful, decided to quit his marriage.However, when he handed Elijah the divorce papers, he ripped them pieces and pushed Ash against the wall.“You have lost your mind if you think I will ever divorce you.” Elijah glared, but Ash was unaffected by his rage. However, once Ash had left him for good, Elijah realised how deeply he loved him, and not just because of his responsibility to Ash. So he resolved to go after Ash and bring him back.Amidst this, he came to know that Ash was the one who caused the accident four years ago in which Elijah lost both of his parents. He had investigated this case for years but now that he found out it was Ash, he was devastated.“Come back before I lose my mind and do something you will regret.”But can an emotionless and frigid man who has never learned to express affection or feelings approach the love of his life while he conflicted between taking his revenge and loving Ash?

Alexander lived—and died—as a wretched, poor virgin, meeting his end as he laid in the hands of his own mother.Stricken by a strange illness, his final vow was a desperate plea: If I’m ever reborn, I’ll attack all the ladies. I'll give my canal desires more attention!Miraculously, fate answers.Reborn into a world eerily similar to his last, Alexander awakens as a Guardian Candidate—a chosen warrior destined to endure trials and serve the gods.But he has no interest in destiny. Armed with divine skills and a frustratingly incompetent and seductive system, he rejects his ordained path, determined to seize this second life for one purpose: conquering women.Now, as a self-aware, unapologetic pervert, Alexander embarks on a relentless quest to charm, seduce, and claim every beautiful woman he encounters.Will his insatiable appetite lead him to the harem of his dreams, or will his reckless pursuit bring another premature end?Join Alexander in this wild, uninhibited adventure—where desire defies duty, and pleasure reigns supreme!

Synopsis one: “The people here aren’t innocent. They’re cunning, they’re greedy, they’re ruthless.” “The nobles here aren’t noble. They’re selfish, they’re arrogant, they’re schemers.” “I was once furious about this. But now, I just pity them. This is a dark world, from the moment they were born, they had no choice but to live life like this. Now, I will give them a choice.” “I want to bring them food so they can be freed from hunger, that will give them morals. I want to bring them peace, so they can have beliefs. I am a transmigrator who has come from a faraway world, I want to bring the fire of civilization to this dark and barbaric place. I know I’m doing the right thing. Eliminating hunger, eradicating plagues, suppressing evil, and ending wars. I will give a second chance to anyone who wants change.” “Then, I’ll kill all of those shameless, brainless idiots.”

Synopsis Two: Kang De transmigrated. He didn’t expect this new world to have sorcerers, dragons, and even gods who were mythical beings that only existed in legends. To protect himself, Kang De had no choice but to train and fortify his body consistently. Soon, he realized that malicious intent didn’t just come from those who possessed extraordinary powers, but also the greedy aristocrats and the king, who was a ruthless dictator. “What? Did I overthrow the nobles? I just wanted to lead the people in my territory to live better lives?” “Why are you guys calling me the king? I don’t want to be a king!” By the time Kang De realized what was happening, his territory had already become the most powerful human kingdom on the continent. The Dragon Emperor called him a brother and powerful sorcerers formed his army. The only targets left now were those gods who saw themselves as superior beings!

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.