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The golden angel who swooped in to save me from a nightmare first date turns out to be a billionaire vulture circling the company I work for.Carter Kingsley: My savior and ruthless corporate raider hell bent on destroying the newspaper I love. Oh, and my new boss.His first order of business? Cut half the staff. I should hate him. Easy, right?Wrong.I met him two weeks ago, when he saved me from the most awkward first date of my life. I was looking for a way out when he strolled up in a ten-thousand dollar suit with a winning smile, and told a white lie that turned the date from hell into heavenly bliss.I left with his number in my phone, and spent the next two weeks staying up late to text him. He's charming. Funny. Sincere.Completely unlike the ruthless villain who comes in and carves us up.My first order of business is to interview the new boss. But who is sitting on the other side of the desk? The man who saved and charmed me, or the one who's threatening everything I hold dear?Carter insists that we can still be friends, but I know that the whole situation is a ticking time bomb.
It's the waiting I hate the most. Nerves grow until they're so thick in my stomach that I feel nauseous, my palms turning slick around my glass. Why had I ordered a Cosmo? I've never had one before in my life. Brian's late. How late is acceptable before I'm entitled to leave? Leaving would be the easier option. A quick text. Let's rain check. But that would be fleeing, and I'd promised myself I would face my fears. Idiot, I think. I should have started with something smaller. Confined spaces, spiders, the concept of infinity. Just not blind dating. I can't handle the awkwardness.
To see how he looks down at his phone, or worse, to look down at my own in search of an excuse. What if he's visibly disappointed by me? Or worse, what if he wants to grab a nightcap and I don't? I take a fortifying sip of my pink drink. One drink. That's all we have to share, and then I can say I have to get back home because I have work tomorrow. I'll order some food on the way home to celebrate surviving. The bar looks good, at least. He'd been the one to suggest it after a week of awkward text exchanges. Dim lighting and patrons in fancy clothes. Music at just the right volume. Not too loud, not too quiet. The prices are just shy of fortune-ruining, which is good for Manhattan. My phone vibrates against the table with a text. Brian's late, which I already know, and he apologizes profusely. He actually uses the word profusely. I put the phone down and take five steadying breaths. Maybe I should have eaten something after my job interview before coming here. Maybescheduling a blind date and an interview for my dream job on the same day was too much. But I'd been caught up in a rush of adrenaline and bravery, and I'd done it. And now I'm paying the price. "It's just a date," I murmur to myself. The ball of nerves in my stomach doesn't listen, continuing to spin in nausea-inducing patterns. "Just a date. I can leave if I don't like it. Just leave." I don't feel better, so I try another argument. One that Nina had said over and over again last night as she talked me back from the ledge of cancelling. The only way to get more comfortable with it is exposure. But exposure doesn't seem so harmless tonight, and not when Brian just gave me another fifteen minutes to sit alone and look like a dork while my nerves rise from innocent butterflies to Hitchcock-like birds in my stomach. I need a glass of cold water. I leave my Cosmo on the table and head for the bar. It's mostly empty, a few businessmen leaning against it in smarmy suits. Standing up feels good. Moving about feels good. I lean against the bar and tap my fingers against the glass counter. The bartender spots me. "Yes?" "A cold glass of water, please," I say. "Lots of ice." "Still or sparkling?" "Still." "Sure thing." He turns, but stops. "Would you like some lemon in that?" "Just water. Please." Why is dating horribly, awfully nerve-wracking for me? Everyone else seems to have a breeze doing it. They dance from one date to the next like it's a game. The bartender sets a tall glass of water in front of me. I drain it, every last drop, until there's nothing but clinking ice left. A voice speaks to my left. "You doing okay?" I catch the sleeve of a suit jacket beside me, a large hand curled around a glass of scotch, but I keep my eye on my own. My chest is heaving. "Yes. Just fine, thank you." "Need another glass of water?" The voice is male, smooth and deep. I shake my head and close my eyes. The last thing I need is someone to waste all my pent-up small-talk energy on. "Nope. All good." A small bowl of complimentary peanuts is pushed into my field of vision. "Just in case."
The gesture makes me chuckle. It comes out like a nervous squeak, but it releases some of the tension rising up inside of me like a teapot. "Thank you," I say, turning toward him. Light, tawny eyes meet mine. I've never seen eyes like that on a man before. Hair a dark shade of auburn is pushed back over his forehead, rising over a square face. "If you're planning on having a panic attack," he says, "I can think of better places than this bar." "I'm not having a panic attack. Besides, who plans on having one?" "It's just a figure of speech." "It's a stupid one," I say, and smooth my hands over my dress. Then I realize what I've just said. "Sorry. I didn't mean to insult you." He turns toward me, his lips curling at the corner. He's tall, now that's he's stretched to his full height. "I'm not insulted." "Good. Well... thank you for the peanuts." "You're welcome, although I have a confession to make. They were already here." I snort again. Perhaps this is good. I can blow off steam with this Wall Street banker. "I suspected. Nice gesture, though." He waves a hand at the bartender, who turns mid-stride to listen to whatever peanut guy has to say. I glance at his suit. He looks like money. It's there in the well-fitting fabric, glossy beneath the dim lights. I don't trust guys who look like him. Too charming to be real, and too rich to be humble. "Another water for the lady," he says. "Lots of ice, no lemon. You know the drill." The bartender nods. "Coming right up." He disappears down the bar and peanut guy turns back to me. I frown at him. "You didn't say please." His eyebrows rise. "I'm sorry?" "To the bartender." I'm speaking more frankly than usual, especially to a stranger, but my nerves have me turned upside down. My cheeks heat up. "I mean, it's just more polite to say please." "Noted," peanut guy says. He leans against the bar, lips still quirked. "Although, I'm sure that bartender has seen people far ruder than me in his days." "That's not an excuse to be rude going forward." "I tip generously," he says. "Always have." "Flinging money around doesn't make up for a lack of manners."
She was kidnapped and totured for being a witness to a murder. Forced to live and adapt to the depraved things rich people do. After much hesitation. She pretends to be like them, but she eventually after six years htches up an escape plan. The problem is will she manage to escape or Is her kidnapper smarter than she thinks.
Stuck in a fake relationship and real hate for each other, with time will these two eventually have feelings or will their relationship result to a never happy after.
A romantic relationship wanting to happen . Will a fake relationship turn into a real one or will it end in a never happy after
My father had just sold me off. Bartered my body to erase his debt to the very devil himself. A Beast of a man. Literally. A creature whispered about amongst the villagers and feared by all. He was a beastly visage at three times the size of a man, his monstrously huge body covered in fur. Sharp fangs and eyes that held an unearthly red glow. He had pawlike hands tipped with claws and horns that arched back from his inhuman face. I was to live with him, to be his in every way—all ways—he saw fit. I was to be his wife, and so I offered myself up as the proverbial sacrifice to the very devil himself. I just didn’t expect to enjoy being with a monster as much as I did.
Rumors claimed that Fernanda, newly back with her family, was nothing more than a violent country bumpkin. Fernanda just flashed a casual, dismissive grin in response. Another rumor suggested that the usually rational Cristian had lost all sense, madly in love with Fernanda. This frustrated her. She could tolerate gossip about herself, but slander against her beloved crossed the line! Gradually, as Fernanda's multiple identities as a celebrated designer, a savvy gamer, an acclaimed painter, and a successful business magnate came to light, everyone realized they were the ones who had been fooled.
Janice, the long-forgotten legitimate heiress, made her way back to her family, pouring her heart into winning their hearts. Yet, she had to relinquish her very identity, her academic credentials, and her creative works to her foster sister. In return for her sacrifices, she found no warmth, only deeper neglect. Resolute, Janice vowed to cut off all emotional bonds. Transformed, she now stood as a master of martial arts, adept in eight languages, an esteemed medical expert, and a celebrated designer. With newfound resolve, she declared, "From this day forward, no one in this family shall cross me."
Rosalynn's marriage to Brian wasn't what she envisioned it to be. Her husband, Brian, barely came home. He avoided her like a plague. Worse still, he was always in the news for dating numerous celebrities. Rosalynn persevered until she couldn't take it anymore. She upped and left after filing for a divorce. Everything changed days later. Brian took interest in a designer that worked for his company anonymously. From her profile, he could tell that she was brilliant and dazzling. He pulled the stops to find out her true identity. Little did he know that he was going to receive the greatest shocker of his life. Brian bit his finger with regret when he recalled his past actions and the woman he foolishly let go.
After three years of loveless marriage, Kira was slapped with divorce papers. She has shown him her unrequited love throughout her entire marriage with him, but he decided to turn blind eyes all because of his lover. Distraught and heartbroken, Kira choose to sign the divorce papers with bitter heart. But then and there, she promised herself that when she's back, he will come crawling to her, but she will make him pay for hurting her. Join Kira as she transform to a wealthy heiress and soared as the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar empire, a remarkable healer and make her ex-husband pay!
Charlee was left at the altar and became a laughingstock. She tried to keep her head high, but ultimately lost it when she received a sex tape of her fiance and her half-sister. Devastated, she ended up spending a wild night with a hot stranger. It was supposed to be one-time thing, but he kept popping up, helping her with projects and revenge, all while flirting with her constantly. Charlee soon realized that it was nice having him around, until her ex suddenly appeared at her door, begging for another chance. Her tycoon lover asked, “Who will you choose? Think carefully before you answer.”
After two years of marriage, Sadie was finally pregnant. Filled with hope and joy, she was blindsided when Noah asked for a divorce. During a failed attempt on her life, Sadie found herself lying in a pool of blood, desperately calling Noah to ask him to save her and the baby. But her calls went unanswered. Shattered by his betrayal, she left the country. Time passed, and Sadie was about to be wed for a second time. Noah appeared in a frenzy and fell to his knees. "How dare you marry someone else after bearing my child?"