MTL - Dressed As the Heart of a Paranoid Boss - Chapter 955 fairy identity

Meng Huaiyin accidentally traveled to another world, and chose to participate in the romance drama because he was penniless.

However, what she didn’t expect was that there was a person who followed her all the way to Lianshan when she just crossed over.

Meng Huaiyin: shivering.jpg

The show just started:

Xiao Nanqi stared at Meng Huaiyin with sharp eyes like a knife, but Meng Huaiyin was so frightened that the melon in his hand dropped.

Barrage:

[He loves her so much, it was love at first sight yyds. ]

[Running in both directions, Grandpa is here. ]

[Woohoo, please lock up the two of you.]

Meng Huaiyin: Excuseme? ?

The love and killing of the dog hero and the dog heroine are daily.

[Come here, they are not human anymore, kick over this bowl of dog food. ]

Xiao Nanqi & Meng Huaiyin: Thank you for the invitation, I am not human 🙂

- Description from novelbuddy

He’s the dream guy of women world wide, the CEO of a formidable mega-corporation. But, he’s absolutely powerless against her, resorting to all kinds of methods to force her into a marriage, tying her to his side with a certficiate.

#Rated 18-Mature ThemesViolet’s life was never her own—her father’s crushing debt made sure of that. But when the debt collector kidnaps her as payment, she takes a desperate deal: become a servant and spy on the mysterious and tyrannical Lord Cain, the ruler of her Werewolf district.There’s just one catch: Lord Cain only permits male servants in his house.Disguised as a boy, Violet cuts her hair, flattens her chest, and dons a voice-altering band to pull off the deception. Everything goes according to plan—until Cain, a man known for his cold personality starts to take a peculiar interest in her.Violet’s disguise becomes a prison as she battles her own growing attraction to him. But this is no love story. Cain’s obsession to her is dangerous. Beneath his icy gaze lies a mind fractured by years of affliction by a curse.A curse made by Violet's biological mother: A powerful witch.*************“TAKE IT OFF!”Violet’s knees nearly buckled at the thunderous command, her chest tightening with panic. The raw anger in Cain’s voice was as sharp as a blade.“My lord! I-I’m a man!” she stammered, gripping her shirt tightly, her fingers trembling as they clung to the fabric.“I don't like other men!” she cried, a desperate plea in her voice since the second she took her shirt off and he discovered that she was a woman was the moment she died. Painfully.Cain’s glare was unyielding, his voice dropping into a growl. “Don’t insult me, You think I do. You kissed me!”Her breath hitched as he stepped closer, his presence suffocating. “If you don’t take it off,” he said, his tone low and dangerous, “I’ll rip it off myself.”Violet’s mind raced, panic threatening to overwhelm her. She couldn’t let him find out—he’d kill her. Painfully.Glancing away to avoid his gaze when she caught the undeniable bulge in his trousers. Heat flushed her face, her thoughts spinning in desperation at the only idea she could think of to make him back off.'This has to work. It has to!'

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”