Forced Marriage: Escaping Her Monster - Chapter 283 - Married Life

«Until death do us part.»That was our vow.And she kept it... by driving her sword through my chest.I was a hero. A symbol. The one chosen by the gods to free humanity.I fought for her. For us.But in the end, it wasn’t the demons who killed me.It was the woman I loved.Helena betrayed me.I fell with my heart shattered and my blood burning between my fingers.But death wasn’t the end.I woke up in another body, in another world...No, not exactly.I woke up inside the very story she wrote.And now, I am Daven von Riesenhart:the bastard son of a marquess, a noble outcast with a name no one respects, and a life I never asked for.I no longer believe in ideals, in gods, or in happy endings.I won’t fight for others.I won’t die for anyone.This time, I’ll live only for myself.And if surviving means deceiving, betraying, or destroying...so be it.Even if it makes me the villain of this story.

“Uncle, I was punished for being late! ” “Buy the school. ”

“Uncle, I was bullied! ” “SEND THEM TO HEAVEN! ”

In this era of competing for fathers, Qin Sheng never competed for fathers. Those things were too extravagant. She didn’t have them, she only competed for uncles!

Ever since she had a rich uncle, she lived a life of fighting and being cleaned up by others, causing trouble and being scapegoated by others.

Her three big goals in life were to make him fall in love with her, fall in love with her, fall in love with her!

Bestselling author Elias Vayne has spent years writing stories to escape the horrors of his past. As a child, he was the sole survivor of a massacre that wiped out his entire orphanage. He doesn’t remember how he survived—only that when the slaughter ended, he was the only one left standing.His latest work, The Arcane Academy Chronicles, takes place in Veylin Academy, a prestigious school of magic and combat. But one night, after finishing the final chapter, Elias wakes up inside his own book—not as the hero, not as the villain, but as an extra. Worse, he’s been reborn as Kael, the very same orphan who survived a similar massacre in the story.But something is wrong. The academy isn’t as he wrote it. Characters are acting off-script, unknown forces are rewriting events, and the mystery surrounding Kael’s survival mirrors the one in Elias’s real life. The more he tries to regain control of the narrative, the more he realizes this world may not be his creation at all.

“They Call Guys Like Me a Simp.”(Meanwhile, I’m out here living what their favorite MC only dreams about.)You ever notice how stories glorify the ones who feel nothing?The MC who never laughs.Never feels.Who plays women like chess pieces and calls it intelligence.He manipulates a girl? “He’s strategic.”He never opens up? “He’s mysterious.”He never flinches, never laughs, never lives —And you call that strength?Funny.Because to me?That’s just a prison in disguise.You see an “alpha.”I see a boy too scared to feel anything real.While they spend ten chapters monologuing about logic and sacrifice,I’m already making the Saintess scream,drenched in sin,halo cracked,legs trembling from truths her prayers never taught her.And I didn’t get there with cold eyes or control.I got there with laughter and chill. With warmth. With a grin and a hand on her thigh.I didn’t need to dominate her mind —I freed her heart.But that scares people, doesn’t it?Because readers trust the ones who suffer.Who stay quiet.Who kill without blinking and love without showing it.But me?I flirt.I laugh.I take hits and smile back, bloody and defiant, as if too weak to get angry.I don’t need to pretend emotions are weakness.I weaponize mine.Pleasure. Connection. Laughter.That’s my arsenal.And while your favorite MC is still calculating his next five moves,Trying to outwit death and romance like both are math problems,I’m already balls deep in the jade fairy — her sacred yin furnace clenching like it’s worshipping my shaft, her Dao Echo shattered into breathless moans, and her so-called cultivation path leaking down her thighs while she begs me to break her meridians again.You call that luck?Nah.That’s mastery of the three worlds.Because in a world that respects coldness,I came in hot.Where others manipulate, I connect.Where they posture, I play.Where they sacrifice, I seduce.So go ahead.Call me a simp.But while your genius MC is busy monologuing about destiny,I’m the one making goddesses question theirs —with a smirk, a touch, and no regrets.I’m not the hero.Not the villain.I’m just a simp… the kind who leaves your cold, emotionless MC’s woman dripping, ruined, and too stretched to go back to him.