Dominant Marriage: The CEO's Overbearing Love - Chapter 3 Turning Misfortune into Blessing

[Space + Food + Su Shuangtian] Song Baozhu had three nightmares.

The first time she wanted to marry an educated youth, she dreamed that the other party was a Zhongshan wolf.

The second time she wanted to marry a soldier, she dreamed that she was occupied by a dove in a magpie’s nest after her marriage.

The third time, she fell into the water and was rescued by Shen Xuan. As soon as she got married, she dreamed that the other party was the richest man in the future, and there was a reborn female educated youth who did everything possible to marry him!

Song Baozhu: I’m not the original match for this cannon fodder!

Identify the main space in advance, make food, make pills, take university entrance exams, buy a house and open a store!

Men will only affect the speed at which she gets rich!

Shen Xuan: ? ? ?

Demining: [Natural power, beautiful, black-hearted heroine VS Junmei Wushuang, black and innocent male lead] [1V1 Shuangjie]

- Description from novelbuddy

It’s a story about a man who got transported into a novel and possessed a slum boy. He met a noble girl and served her as a butler for 13 Years. Now the girl has already fallen from her noble life and lives in an abandoned mansion with paralyzed legs. Why did she become like that? Of course because she is the villainess in the novel.

The fiancée has betrayed, but how could she know that the man she looked down upon was in fact a prodigy with healing and martial prowess!

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.”