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Isabella is a struggling artist who had a heart full of dreams and aspirations, while Alexander Sinclair is an cold-hearted Billionaire with a secret past. Their worlds come together when Alexander commissions Isabella to paint his portrait, a decision that ignites a forbidden passion that neither of them cannot deny nor escape, but as their love blossoms, it faces relentless tests --both from hidden rivalries and family secrets to a well calculated art heist that threatens to tear them apart. Will their love survive the trails and tribulations or will the price of wealth and ambition be too high to divide them. Come with me as I take you through a tale of passion and the power of love to conquer even the most greatest challenges
Isabella's small studio which was inserted in a corner of their small home was a haven of creativity and chaos. Canvases leaned against the walls, with brushes of all sizes and different texture's were strewn across a cluttered table. In the midst of this artistic mayhem stood Isabella, a young woman with a fiercely burning passion for painting that burned brighter than any financial struggle.
A canvas stood strung across her low cost portrait hanger, her pallette filled with paints of different colors as the low light from the studio lights casts a mesmerizing beauty around the room.
As Isabella carefully applied brushstroke after brushstroke to a canvas depicting her grandfathers weathered hands holding a winnowing fork while standing in the evening sunlight, her thoughts wandered to her journey as a painter. The art world was a competitive one, and to gain success seems like a distant star in the galaxy. She had always known that her path would be anything but easy and she had come to terms with it.
She reveled in her thoughts as she waves her head in self pity. A lot of obstacles lay scattered across her path and it seems she can't brave them all.
Soon her phone buzzed clearly breaking her concentration. A frown came over her face as she cursed inwardly at the unknown texter.
Checking it. It was a notification from her bank --a reminder of her increasing rent payment. Isabella sighed, her once raised high shoulders sagged under the weight of frustration and financial
anxiety.
The life of a struggling artist was not a rosy one, it was a relentless battle and which she often thinks she was on the losing side.
Later in the day, Isabella took out their worn out beat up truck and drove to the local art supply store to pick up some much needed materials. As she searched through the shelves and aisles, her eyes fell on a brand new set of high quality oil paints. She longer to have them, to feel the silky texture of the paint on her brush, but then she pushed the thought aside.
The were a luxury she can't afford yet.
As she reluctantly selected the more low budget paints, a fellow artist Mr James approached her. He was a regular customer at the store and had seen Isabella and her struggles over the years.
"Isabella," James greeted her with a warm smile. "How's your latest masterpiece coming along?"
Isabella forced a smile, though the weight of her financial burdens still pressed hard upon her. "It's a work in progress, James. You know how it is."
James nodded knowingly. "We all go through rough patches, especially in this field. But your talent is undeniable, Isabella. Don't lose hope."
"I won't James, it's in me and the fire keeps me warm enough to keep going," Isabella replied metaphorically.
"You speak indeed like an artist," James said aloud, "who knows what other talent lay hidden in the body of yours"
Isabella let out a laugh, James was obviously wanting to make her happy and smile. She heaved as he slowly caressed the tip of a paintbrush, feeling it's texture and smoothness.
James stood watching her while resting on the shelf beside him.
A clatter of steps came towards their direction as their conversation was interrupted by the store owner, Mr. Mitchell, who approached with a sympathetic expression. "Isabella, I couldn't help but overhear. I have some leftover paints from a discontinued line. They're still of excellent quality, and I'd like you to have them if you don't mind."
Isabella's eyes widened in surprise and gratitude. "Mr. Mitchell, that's incredibly generous of you. Thank you."
"Yes Bella, I kept them specially for you" Mr. Mitchell nodded with a smile as he pats her on the back while walking back when Isabella's voice halted him in his tracks.
"Where do I get them Mr. Mitchell?" She asked.
"Check the last shelf on your right hand roll, they are in a carton at the side." He answered continuing his walk.
She looked up in happiness as James smiled at her.
"You deserved it dear one." James said with grinning like Cheshire cat. "I better get going, seem there's gonna be a storm." James said walking towards the counter to pay for his purchases, as Isabella walked to find her prized gifts.
She was forever indebted to Mr. Mitchell, he had saved her some money and now she's gonna use it for their feeding.
As she left the stores with the unexpected gift of paints, Isabella's heart was greatly touched by the kindness of her fellow artists the undying sense of community with the art world. It was great reminder to her that even in the midst of her struggles that she was not alone.
Branching over that the grocery store, she bought enough foodstuffs needed for the week. She would worry about how to get money to buy food, Mr. Mitchell had done it for her.
Moving straight to the kitchen, she fell to work preparing dinner.
That evening after a hectic time in the kitchen preparing the family dinner, Isabella returned to her studio with the new paints in hand. She sets them down in the still clustered table using her hand to clear some space for it, a renewed sense of determination slowly surging through her.
She stood admiring the soon to be completed portrait of her grandfather, the portrait seemed lie it had a life of its own. The lights in the studio playing tricks on them, it was a beautiful sight to behold.
The path of a struggling artist was an undoubtedly challenging path, but her live for art was her guiding light just like a firehouse guides a ship safely to dock during a storm at sea.
As she resumed work, on her grandfathers portrait, she whispered words if encouragement to herself, "I may be a a struggling artist, but surely I will paint my way through the challenges. Art is my passion, my solace and won't let financial worries quench the burning fire within me"
Luna Scarlett, mate to the dying alpha of the Mooncrest wolf pack has been given leadership over the whole pack earning unspoken murmuring and grudges from the wolves around. What happens when a Luna suddenly came to be the leader of the Mooncrest pack when her mate and Alpha died in war in her own very arm's turning her cold blooded. Will she be able to stand the pressure and prove herself worthy of leading the pack or who she succumb and watch the pack slip from her fingers. What will happen when a beta falls in love with her, hoping to make her his mate even if it means laying his life for her. What will happen now that the night of the blue moon is close,she is required to choose a mate for herself or risk fighting to save herself from the ursupers of the throne. Would she choose a mate or would she fight to either keep her position if she won or lose it if she lose. Join me as we travel to a time of love, loss and regret.
"You're mine, little puppy," Kylan growled against my neck. A soft gasp escaped my lips as his lips brushed my skin. My mind screamed at me to push him away-the Lycan Prince who had humiliated me again and again, but my body betrayed me, leaning into him before I could stop myself. He pressed his lips against mine, and his kiss grew more aggressive, more possessive as I felt my legs weaken. What was I doing? In a split-second, I pulled away and slapped him hard across the face. Kylan's eyes darkened, but the smirk on his lips exposed his amusement. "You and I both know we can't fight this, Violet," he said, gripping my wrist. "You're my mate." "And yet you don't want me," I replied. "You told me you were ashamed of me, that l'd never be your queen, that you'd never love me. So please, accept my rejection and let me go." "Never," he whispered, his grip tightening as he pulled me closer. "Soon enough, you'll be begging for me. and when you do-I'll use you as I see fit and then I'll reject you."
Allison fell in love with Ethan Iversen, the soon-to-be Alpha of the Moonlight Crown pack. She always wanted him to notice her. Meanwhile, Ethan was an arrogant Alpha who thought a weak Omega could not be his companion. Ethan's cousin, Ryan Iversen, who came back from abroad and was the actual heir of the pack, never tried to get the position nor did he show any interest in it. He was a popular playboy Alpha but when he came back to the pack, one thing captured his eyes and that was Allison.
In the previous life, Maggie Johnson was so cowardly, gullible and stupid that she was coaxed by her fiance and stepsister and then broke her legs and lost everything including her fortune, love and even life. However, she was so lucky that she was reborn in the year before everything happened. Since her life restarted, how could she repeat a previous tragedy? Therefore, in this life, she took the opportunity to improve herself and take revenge on the ones who had ever insulted her. Facing the people who had humiliated her previously, she became smart and experienced to break their frames and tricks that had caused her to hurt in the previous life. Finally, no one could stop her pace to amaze the world any more.
"You're pathetic!" Brenden sneered, each word cutting deep into Corinna's heart. Years of emotional wounds had drained every ounce of love she once held. "I've wasted enough time on you. If there's a next life, I hope we never meet again." Her words severed the bond between them like a blade. From that moment on, Brenden was haunted by her absence—unable to sleep, longing for the warmth he took for granted.
For as long as Emily can remember, she has wanted to overcome her shyness and explore her sexuality. Still, everything changes when she receives an invitation to visit one of the town's most prestigious BDSM clubs, DESIRE'S DEN. On the day she chose to peruse the club, she noticed three men, all dressed in suits, standing on the upper level, near the railing. Despite her limited vision, she persisted in fixating on them. Their towering statues belied the toned bodies concealed by their sharply tailored suits-or so she could tell. The hair of two of them was short and dark, and the third had light brown-possibly blond-hair that reached the shoulders. The dark, crimson background incised their figures, exuding an air of mystery and strength. They stood in stark contrast to the unfiltered, primal energy that pulsed through the club. Shocked by the desires these men aroused in her, she was disappointed to learn that they were masters seeking a slave to divide and conquer. She couldn't afford the fee, and she also realized that they were outside her league. Emily hurriedly left the club, feeling disappointed and depressed, unaware that she had also caught the group's attention. A world of wicked pleasure, three handsome men. Over the years, they have lived a life of decadence, their lavish lair serving as a stage for their most sinister desires. But despite the unending parade of willing subjects, one woman sticks out. A mysterious stranger with white porcelain skin and a killer body, a slave, a name with no address, the first lady to attract their eye and they will go to any length to obtain her no matter the consequences.
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. .