The CEO's Wife Is A Demon God's Daughter - Chapter 1 Demon God And The Goddess Of Beauty

18 years have passed since I was born as Allen, the eldest son of an earl in this world, while still retaining my memories of the present world. This world is peaceful and a stable society. The only extraordinary thing is that I was reincarnated into a world that is lenient on the existence of concubines. I selected a silver-haired maid as a sex slave and second wife candidate from among 10 candidates after a strict fellatio practical exam. I then lived an erotic life at home and at school as an attendant, but my reincarnated life is so fulfilling that I'm worried it will explode, as my busty childhood friend, a noble girl who was unsuccessful, ran for the third wife candidate, and my stepmother, who was my virgin partner, was sold off.

Ye Gushen and Tang Suiyu were married by imperial decree!Tang Suiyu thought that this cold-hearted and emotionless man married her just because of a marriage contract, but in fact...“Honey, autumn is here...” “Good girl...”The next day, several truckloads of clothes were delivered home.“Honey, green grapes taste good...” “Good girl...”The next day, she acquired dozens of vineyards.“Honey, someone said I don't deserve you!” “Good girl...”The next day, that person, huh, where did they go!A long time later, Mrs. Ye, who was spoiled beyond limits, said that her post-marriage life was overwhelmingly sweet![1v1, both male and female leads are incredibly pure, overwhelming spoiling]

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”