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Sitting in a corner at the end of the pub, Ethan Sawyer looked behind him. A bar girl was being harassed by a middle-aged man and his friend.
"How about a night with me? I'm going to take good care of you baby girl" the first man said and ran his fingers over her exposed lap. She was putting on a mini-skirt, which was exposing her lap. The girl slapped his hand away from her lap.
"How dare you?" The man's friend shouted, but the girl remained silent. "How dare you slap my friend's hands, you ugly girl?" he asked.
"What is happening here?" Her boss asked as he approached them.
"Mark" the first man called in an angry tone. "Your staff are being disrespectful these days. How can a little girl like her slap my hands away from her lap, all because I was trying to ask her for a night! ' He said with a frown on his face. Mark, the owner of the pub and also the girl's boss, glared at her, eyeing her scornfully
Oh god, can't I have just one peaceful night?
Leah thought, taking a deep breath
She barely suppressed a shiver as she looked down at the ground
"Is that true, Leah?" Mark asked as he stared at the girl, who looked up at him through her lashes with tears forming in her eyes.
"Yes sir" she replied shivering, feeling scared of what her boss might do to her.
"Go down on your knees" Mark ordered, but she remained standing and wouldn't do as she was told, this made Mark burn with anger making him slap her hard on her cheek.
"She's possessed," Edmond replied with an annoying look.
"Get on your knees, you disrespectful girl!' Mark shouted again, but she wouldn't kneel, and then he slapped her once more.
"I won't kneel!'' she cried out. "I won't!"
"You dare go against me?!" Mark asked with wide eyes and was about to give her the beating of her life when he heard a cold voice. A voice that made people tremble in fear when they heard it, a voice that nobody dared to go against. This voice was what stopped Mark from venting out his anger on the girl.
"How about we end things on a light note today, huh?'' Ethan warned, causing an uproar in the pub. Most people who knew Ethan for a long time were sure he hardly said anything to anyone not to talk of defending a girl.
"I respect you, Mr. Sawyer," Mark said and bowed a little. "But this bitch had it coming for a while now" He added and was about to slap Leah again when Ethan's voice stopped him once more.
"You would dare?" Ethan asked, with a look of amusement and just the slightest hint of excitement. The people at the pub were once again surprised because of his warning. Just what was the great Ethan Sawyer trying to do? Why was he defending a mere barmaid? Different questions ran through different minds. Ethan stood up from his seat and approached Leah and Mark, with his men behind him.
"Mr. Sawyer?' Mark looked perplexed because this was the first time Ethan had ever defended anyone. Even if he wanted to defend somebody, must it be a barmaid? A mere barmaid.
"You want to go against me?" Ethan asked, his voice sending chills down Mark's spine.
"Me? Go against you? I would never, Mr. Sawyer! I would never go against your word" Mark asked and laughed a dry laugh. He caught sight of Ethan looking at Leah, and an idea came into his mind. "Do you want her, Mr. Saw..."
"How much will you sell her to me?" Ethan asked and scanned Leah from her head to her toe. His question once again brought an uproar in the pub.
He watched as some people turned their heads away, while others openly stared with open mouths or even had a look of disbelief on their faces. They didn't know whether they should believe him. After all, who doesn't know Ethan the cold Mafia Lord? But they also knew that if Ethan wanted a piece of the girl, he would do whatever it takes to get it. And so everyone else simply kept quiet and listened in on the conversation.
Leah was standing right there, she was too beautiful, too pure, too innocent. Ethan's eyes lingered over her long, slender body. She had no makeup on but still looked stunning, which only made her more enticing. The girl tied her hair back into two loose braids that rested on her shoulders. She wasn't wearing make up either, just simple mascara and lip gloss.
Her skin was flawless, smooth, and soft. It didn't matter how many times you saw her, you couldn't find even the faintest hint of imperfection. No acne scars or bruises, not even freckles. There were no blemishes at all. Even though the bar was packed with other customers, not one of them seemed to mind when he ogled her. In fact, they were quite pleased that his attention was on someone else.
"What makes you think I'll sell her to you?" her boss asked, making Ethan's smile widen. He leaned over to Mark and whispered.
"Come on, man, now you're just pushing it. See Jerome over there?" he asked and gestured over to one of the guys behind him. Mark looked over and gulped. The man named Jerome looked like he'd been born with a dumbbell in hand and Mark didn't feel Leah was worth the trouble.
"Just name your price," he added. Mark smiled dryly when he heard Ethan asking him to name his price.
"Nonsense, Mr. Sawyer," Mark replied with a laugh. "You were gracious enough to um... Grace us with your presence, so there's no need to, um... Pay anything" Mark swallowed hard at that last sentence. Just the thought of giving anything away for free irked him to the bones, but he'd actually seen what Ethan was capable of and if he was pissed off, the monster named Jerome would be the least of his problems.
"No, I insist, unless you think I won't be able to afford it"
"We- well... I- if you insist, she was given to me for 5000 dollars, so..."
"Of course" Ethan said with a smile and whispered over to one of his boys.
I was four months pregnant, weighing over two hundred pounds, and my heart was failing from experimental treatments forced on me as a child. My doctor looked at me with clinical detachment and told me I was in a death sentence: if I kept the baby, I would die, and if I tried to remove it, I would die. Desperate for a lifeline, I called my father, Francis Acosta, to tell him I was sick and pregnant. I expected a father's love, but all I got was a cold, sharp blade of a voice. "Then do it quietly," he said. "Don't embarrass Candi. Her debutante ball is coming up." He didn't just reject me; he erased me. My trust fund was frozen, and I was told I was no longer an Acosta. My fiancé, Auston, had already discarded me, calling me a "bloated whale" while he looked for a thinner, wealthier replacement. I left New York on a Greyhound bus, weeping into a bag of chips, a broken woman the world considered a mistake. I couldn't understand how my own father could tell me to die "quietly" just to save face for a party. I didn't know why I had been a lab rat for my family’s pharmaceutical ambitions, or how they could sleep at night while I was left to rot in the gray drizzle of the city. Five years later, the doors of JFK International Airport slid open. I stepped onto the marble floor in red-soled stilettos, my body lean, lethal, and carved from years of blood and sweat. I wasn't the "whale" anymore; I was a ghost coming back to haunt them. With my daughter by my side and a medical reputation that terrified the global elite, I was ready to dismantle the Acosta empire piece by piece. "Tell Francis to wash his neck," I whispered to the skyline. "I'm home."
For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.
Luna has tried her best to make her forced marriage to Xen work for the sake of their child. But with Riley and Sophia- Xen's ex-girlfriend and her son in the picture. She fights a losing battle. Ollie, Xen's son is neglected by his father for a very long time and he is also suffering from a mysterious sickness that's draining his life force. When his last wish to have his dad come to his 5th birthday party is dashed by his failure to show up, Ollie dies in an accident after seeing his father celebrate Riley's birthday with Sophia and it's displayed on the big advertising boards that fill the city. Ollie dies and Luna follows after, unable to bear the grief, dying in her mate's hands cursing him and begging for a second chance to save her son. Luna gets the opportunity and is woken up in the past, exactly one year to the day Sophia and Riley show up. But this time around, Luna is willing to get rid of everyone and anyone even her mate if he steps in her way to save her son.
The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.
Linsey was stood up by her groom to run off with another woman. Furious, she grabbed a random stranger and declared, "Let's get married!" She had acted on impulse, realizing too late that her new husband was the notorious rascal, Collin. The public laughed at her, and even her runaway ex offered to reconcile. But Linsey scoffed at him. "My husband and I are very much in love!" Everyone thought she was delusional. Then Collin was revealed to be the richest man in the world. In front of everyone, he got down on one knee and held up a stunning diamond ring. "I look forward to our forever, honey."
Maia grew up a pampered heiress-until the real daughter returned and framed her, sending Maia to prison with help from her fiancé and family. Four years later, free and married to Chris, a notorious outcast, everyone assumed Maia was finished. They soon discovered she was secretly a famed jeweler, elite hacker, celebrity chef, and top game designer. As her former family begged for help, Chris smiled calmly. "Honey, let's go home." Only then did Maia realize her "useless" husband was a legendary tycoon who'd adored her from the start.
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