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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.
Blinded in a crash, Cary was rejected by every socialite—except Evelina, who married him without hesitation. Three years later, he regained his sight and ended their marriage. "We’ve already lost so many years. I won’t let her waste another one on me." Evelina signed the divorce papers without a word. Everyone mocked her fall—until they discovered that the miracle doctor, jewelry mogul, stock genius, top hacker, and the President's true daughter… were all her. When Cary came crawling back, a ruthless tycoon had him kicked out. "She's my wife now. Get lost."
"I stood at the edge of my heart and watched him choose her. In the end, I was not the one he needed. I was simply the one he settled for." - Noelle ~~~~~~~ I thought I was the one he loved. But a few days before our wedding, I saw him in a way I never had before. His eyes softened as he spoke to her. His first love, and the very woman who had left him in pieces. Heartbreak was something I knew too well. And as I watched the love he still held for her in his eyes, I realized what I had to do. I couldn't marry a man who wasn't truly mine. With no means to cancel the wedding and lacking the courage to confront him, I made a desperate choice to leave. I painfully gave his first love my treasured engagement ring thinking it was for the best and the only way to free myself. But when he saw that ring on her finger, the fragile world I had tried to escape began to shatter. His obsession to find me and bring me back ignited a dangerous game of cat and mouse.
Elodie took a deep breath and knocked, the sound echoing in the quiet corridor. A moment of silence passed, broken only by the pounding of her heart. Finally, the door snicked open, revealing a surprised Dashiell. 'Can't you see the Do Not Disturb sign? We don't want-' His initial frown quickly morphed into confusion at the sight of his wife. 'What are you doing here?' he demanded. 'Your girlfriend invited me,' Elodie replied, her voice laced with icy calm. She tried to peer past him, but his broad frame blocked the view. A saccharine voice chimed in from within the room. 'Elodie? Oh dear, we didn't mean for you to find out this way. It's just that-' Elodie cut her short. 'Oh please, Selene. Spare me the fake apologies. You wouldn't have sent me all those texts if you didn't want me to know.' Dashiell shifted uncomfortably, his face a mask of annoyance. 'What texts?' Elodie stepped past him, taking in the luxurious suite with a sardonic smile. The king-sized bed, the scattered rose petals, the lingering scent of sex – it all painted a vivid picture of their betrayal. She looked up at Dashiell, her gaze unwavering. 'I want a divorce.' ****** Dashiell lived a life of luxury, surrounded by the best things money could buy. But when a car accident left him vulnerable, he met Elodie, a seemingly ordinary woman who nursed him back to health. Mistaking her for just another employee, Dashiell entered into a loveless marriage with her solely for convenience. However, fate had a different script in store. Elodie, the 'ordinary nurse,' held a secret more precious than any diamond: she was the sole heiress to Northstar, a vast and powerful enterprise. Unaware of her true identity, Dashiell cast her aside when his ex-girlfriend returned, leaving Elodie humiliated. But Elodie was not one to be easily broken. She shed the facade of the meek nurse, reclaiming her rightful inheritance and stepping into the role of Northstar's CEO. Now, the woman Dashiell discarded was the one holding the reins of power. As Elodie thrives in her new role, Dashiell is consumed by regret. He finally sees Elodie for the extraordinary woman she truly is, realising the depth of his mistake. But will his remorse be enough to win back the heart he so carelessly discarded?
When Zora was sick during the early days of her pregnancy, Ezrah was with his first love, Piper. When Zora got into an accident and called Ezrah, he said he was busy, when in actual fact, he was buying shoes for Piper. Zora lost her baby because of the accident, and throughout her stay at the hospital, Ezrah never showed up. She already knew that he didn't love her, but that was the last straw for the camel's back, and her fragile heart could not take it anymore. When Ezrah arrived home a few days after Zora was discharged from the hospital, he no longer met the woman who always greeted him with a smile and cared for him. Zora stood at the top of the stairs and yelled with a cold expression, "Good news, Ezrah! Our baby died in a car accident. There is nothing between us anymore, so let's get a divorce." The man who claimed not to have any feelings for Zora, being cold and distant towards her, and having asked her for a divorce twice, instantly panicked.
Once upon a time, there were two kingdoms once at peace. The kingdom of Salem and the kingdom of Mombana... Until the day, the king of Mombana passed away and a new monarch took over, Prince Cone. Prince Cone, has always been hungry for more power and more and more. After his coronation, he attacked Salem. The attack was so unexpected, Salem never prepared for it. They were caught off guard. The king and Queen was killed, the prince was taken into slavery. The people of Salem that survived the war was enslaved, their land taken from them. Their women were made sex slaves. They lost everything, including their land. Evil befall the land of Salem in form of Prince Cone, and the prince of Salem in his slavery was filled with so much rage. The prince of Salem, Prince Lucien swore revenge. 🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳🌳 Ten years later, thirty-years old Lucien and his people raided a coup and escaped slavery. They went into hiding and recuperated. They trained day and night under the leadership of the fearless and cold Lucien who was driven with everything in him to get back their land, and take Mombana land too. It took them five years before they ambushed and attacked Mombana. They killed Prince Cone and reclaimed everything. As they screamed out their victory, Lucien's eyes found and pinned the proud princess of Mombana. Princess Danika. The daughter of Prince Cone. As Lucien stared at her with the coldest eyes anyone can ever possess, he felt victory for the first time. He walked to the princess with the slave collar he'd won for ten years rattling in his hand as he walked. He reached close to her and with a swift movement, he collared her neck. Then, he tilted her chin up, staring into the bluest eyes and the most beautiful face ever created, he gave her a cold smile. "You are my acquisition. My slave. My sex slave. My property. I will pay you in spades, everything you and your father ever did to me and my people." He stated curtly. Pure hatred, coldness and victory was the only emotion on his face. .
Dear readers, this book has resumed daily updates. It took Sabrina three whole years to realize that her husband, Tyrone didn't have a heart. He was the coldest and most indifferent man she had ever met. He never smiled at her, let alone treated her like his wife. To make matters worse, the return of the woman he had eyes for brought Sabrina nothing but divorce papers. Sabrina's heart broke. Hoping that there was still a chance for them to work on their marriage, she asked, "Quick question,Tyrone. Would you still divorce me if I told you that I was pregnant?" "Absolutely!" he responded. Realizing that she didn't mean shit to him, Sabrina decided to let go. She signed the divorce agreement while lying on her sickbed with a broken heart. Surprisingly, that wasn't the end for the couple. It was as if scales fell off Tyrone's eyes after she signed the divorce agreement. The once so heartless man groveled at her bedside and pleaded, "Sabrina, I made a big mistake. Please don't divorce me. I promise to change." Sabrina smiled weakly, not knowing what to do...