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Happy New Year
Date de publication:
2026-01-01 08:41:47š Happy New Year! š
May this new year bring you fresh hope, renewed strength, and endless opportunities. May your days be filled with joy, peace, and success. š New Year Prayers: I pray that God goes ahead of you this year, opening doors no one can shut. May He grant you good health, wisdom, favor, and protection. May your efforts be crowned with success, and may sorrow, lack, and failure be far from you. This year shall be your season of breakthrough and testimony. š” Words of Advice for the New Year: Walk with purpose and discipline. Let go of past regrets and embrace new beginnings. Be kind, patient, and grateful in all things. Work hard, pray always, and never stop believing in yourself. Choose peace over anger and progress over excuses. āØ Final Wish: May this new year be better than all the years before it. May your dreams come alive and your life shine brighter each day. Happy New Year! šš
Dernier chapitre
No Saints in My BedĀ Ā Ā Hot summer day
CoraIt was scorching hot at the lake house. It was 3:00 PM in the middle of a July heatwave, and the ancient air conditioner had finally given up the ghost with a pathetic rattle two hours ago.Now, the only sound was the rhythmic, annoying thwack-thwack-thwack of the ceiling fan as it moved the stagnant, ninety-degree air around the living room.I was sprawled on the hardwood floor, my cheek pressed against it, trying to find a patch of wood that wasnāt already warm from my body. It wasnāt working.āIām actually going to die,ā Sloane said suddenly.She was lying about three feet away from me. Her blonde hair was a matted, damp mess stuck to her forehead and the back of her neck. She was wearing an oversized gray t-shirt that was currently translucent with sweat, clinging to her shoulders in patches.āYouāre not going to die,ā I muttered, though I felt like I might. āYouāre just being dramatic.āāCora, look at me. Iām melting. I am literally a puddle.ā She sat up suddenly, the moveme
No Saints in My BedĀ Ā Ā The revelation (3)
GenevieveThe gala was a failure. It was just a room full of people in expensive suits pretending in each otherās faces. Every ācongratulationsā from a board member felt like a slap. The champagne was too cold, the lights were too bright, and I just wanted to scream.Father and Uncle Artie had masked the ceremony as a celebration of a merger; meanwhile, it was a funeral for my old life as Genevieve Jacobson. My mother had been awfully silent through all of this.My father stumbled over to me for the dance. He reeked of scotch and whiskey. He was disheveled. How he managed to stand on his own two feet was a miracle. When he pulled me onto the floor, his hand was clammy, and beads of perspiration formed on his head despite the perfect air conditioning. He was so shaky I felt like I was the one propping him up.āYou look beautiful, Genevieve,ā he whispered. His head actually sagged toward my shoulder. He sounded pathetic. āThank you. Seriously. Youāre saving the family, Gen. I know itās
No Saints in My BedĀ Ā Ā The revelation (2)
GenevieveWalking through the hidden room behind the bookshelf was nothing short of humiliating. I hadnāt signed the papers. I couldnāt. I just stood there, staring at the ink as if it were blood.Arthur didnāt push. Instead, he reached for a leather-bound book on the shelf, pulled a lever, and the wall groaned loudly and opened. āI have more to show you, Genevieve.āI was still naked. Goosebumps erupted over my skin from more than just the cold in the room. Uncle Artie held my arm, his grip firm and possessive, while my father trailed behind us. Every time I tried to fold my arms over my chest, Arthurās gaze landed on me. If his eyes could shoot daggers, Iād have dropped dead on the marble floors.āArthur, your employees are going to start asking questions about the lockdown,ā my father muttered. He kept his eyes fixed on anywhere except my bare body. āEspecially if they canāt reach you. We need to get her dressed and get out of here.āāThe people see what I allow them to see, Richar
No Saints in My BedĀ Ā Ā The revelation (1)
GenevieveThe silence in the room was a heavy weight, broken only by the sound of my father's ragged breathing. I scrambled back, my knees hitting the floor, my hands trembling as I tried to scrape up what was left of my dignity. I tried to gather my clothes, but they were strewn across the floor in different directions. My panties were kicked far away. I weighed the option of crawling toward it and just staying put, and realized crawling was far more humiliating.So I pulled my knees tighter and shielded my breasts with my hands. I looked at him, waiting for the explosion, for the rage that would surely end us both. I was officially dead, like cold in the morgue dead. I could see my life disappear in front of me.I stole a glance at Uncle Artie, if I was having it worse, his was definitely going to be worse. There was no way in hell my dad would spare him. And yet when I looked at him, he had that same blank, unbothered expression he had had on his face when he told me he would handl
No Saints in My BedĀ Ā Ā Uncle Artie (10)
GenevieveI heard the office door click shut behind me; the silence of the room was loud. My eyes were burning from lack of sleep, and my mind was stuck on the empty desk Iād passed on the way in. Marcus hadnāt shown up. No call, no emailājust an empty chair where he usually used to be.āWhere is he?ā I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.Arthur didnāt look up from his laptop. He looked perfectly composed, the silver of his watch catching the morning light as he scrolled. āHe wonāt be returning, Genevieve. Iāve handled the situation.āWarning bells went off in my head. āHandled it how? Uncle Artie, he was just here yesterday. People are talking. What did you actually do?āHe finally lifted his gaze, his expression a blank, unreadable mask. āItās better for everyone if you donāt have those details. Just know that the threat to your reputation and mine is gone.āāWhat do you mean, gone?ā My voice faltered in panic. āYou canāt just erase someone,ā I breathed, the uncertainty gnawing
No Saints in My BedĀ Ā Ā Uncle Artie (9)
GenevieveThe next morning, the tension in the office between us felt like a live wire. My father was pacing the rug, concluding a meeting with Arthur, Marcus, and two other board members. I stood next to Arthur, leaning over a stack of spreadsheets as the final directives were given.āThe numbers for the April targets are here,ā I said, my voice professional and steady.āLet me see,ā Arthur murmured. He didnāt look at the tablet. Instead, he reached out, his hand sliding under the table and resting on my hip. His thumb hooked into the waistband of my skirt, tugging it just enough to let the air hit my skin. āYouāve been very thorough, Genevieve. I like the attention to detail.āI felt a flush creep up my neck. My father turned around as the others began to pack up. āSheās a fast learner, isnāt she, Arthur?āāThe fastest,ā Arthur replied, his fingers digging into my flesh. āShe knows exactly how to follow instructions.ā He looked up at me, a knowing smile on his lips.At the close of
No Saints in My BedĀ Ā Ā Fucked By My Childhood Crush (2)
NoahI woke up with a banging headache on the left side of my face. My eyelids fluttered open as I struggled to adjust to the light. There was a soft floral scent in the air, and my pillow felt extra soft this morningāalmost likeā¦I raised my head so fast I gave myself whiplash. Groaning, I massage
DerniĆØre mise Ć jour : 2026-03-29No Saints in My BedĀ Ā Ā Fuck me, Mr. Locke (9)
ChantelleThose were the last words I remembered saying, and then my loud moaning and his deep grunting, the slick wet noises our bodies made where we joined, the sound of his balls slapping hard against my ass, my hips slamming into the table, and the table scraping lightly against the posh rug be
DerniĆØre mise Ć jour : 2026-03-28No Saints in My BedĀ Ā Ā The dancer (6)
LenaThe first thing I felt was light. It poured through the tall glass windows and burned against my closed eyes until I turned my head away. The sheets beneath me were soft, smooth, and smelled faintly of him.I didnāt move at first. For a second, I didnāt even remember where I was. Then the memo
DerniĆØre mise Ć jour : 2026-03-25No Saints in My BedĀ Ā Ā The dancer (2)
LenaI was halfway through changing when Marcus, the manager, stuck his head into the dressing room.āCandy,ā he called. āYou almost fell flat on your faceā¦ again.ā He said the last word with a straight face.āBut I didnāt,ā I replied with a toothy grin.He narrowed his eyes at me, then broke into
DerniĆØre mise Ć jour : 2026-03-24
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