Where Was Beomgyu'S Birthday Party Held?

Marina, Lexy, Khloe, Samantha, Anna, Leticia, Angela, and Jennifer are just a few of the many names on Arthur Graham's list of special friends. Who shares his bed on the last days of every month, and whom he has to thank for his lifestyle. He's a smart, sexy devil man. Manipulative, and controlling, who takes advantage of his good looks to get what he wants. Many claim that he is insatiable when it comes to sex, he is a woman's wet dream. Therefore, he is used to always getting his way, with just a smile and nice words. Morgana Wilson is a girl with a somewhat difficult childhood and a rough adolescence after her parent's divorce. She is one of the few girls who not dreams of the white dress, the veil, and the pink house with the white-painted wooden fence. For her, love not exists, because the first time she experienced it was a complete disaster. Nor does she look for it in every man she meets. In the most casual way, Arthur and Morgana meet. And although neither is attracted to the other from the first moment, because both are immersed in their own affairs, a beautiful friendship arises between them. Together they are an explosion of charisma and radiate something else, which does not go unnoticed and causes curiosity to those who observe them. Until the night, Arthur accepts that he feels something more than a strong attraction for Morgana, who repeats, over and over again, that they are just friends, that love is not in their future plans, and that much fewer want to be just another name on his list. For both of them, their lives were perfect, until their closeness turned them into LOVERS. All rights reserved: ©2303103769712

On our wedding anniversary, I canceled all my meetings and made a reservation at a restaurant. That evening, my wife, the renowned investigative journalist Amaya Shaw, called me. “Efim, I’m sorry! I just received a tip from a source. It’s urgent. “It involves inside information about a well-known company. I have to go verify it immediately!” But the next day, I saw that Javor Furey, the junior she had brought along, had posted a collage on his social media. The central photo showed Amaya wearing a childish birthday hat. Her head was pressed against Javor’s, as they made a wish together in front of a cake covered in candles. This was the caption. [Thanks, my dear Ms. Shaw! Even in the midst of her busy schedule chasing big stories, she remembered to give me this surprise birthday!] [Chasing big stories.] I stared at those three words. Then, I glanced at the limited-edition bag on our dining table. It was the one she had been raving about for half a year. It was the anniversary gift I had prepared for her. I felt absurd. I commented just two words under that post. [How touching.] Her call came in almost the second I hit send. She sounded furious. “Efim, do you have to be so sarcastic? “It’s just an anniversary. How old are you? Why are you still celebrating such childish anniversaries?” From our first year of marriage to the present, her “tip-offs from informants” and “special circumstances” always took precedence over our promises. This time, she could not even be bothered to come up with a plausible excuse. I did not say anything. I hung up and blocked her number. This marriage was over.

My boyfriend and his godsister were caught by the vice squad at a scandalous party. When I went to the police station to bail him out, he was disheveled, his exposed skin marked with dried candle wax and whiplash scars. His godsister, Sonia, clung to him, sobbing into his arms. “The light in Sonia’s house was broken. It was too dark, so I went to accompany her,” he said. I couldn’t help but wonder, Did he accompany her all the way to the police station too? In the past, I would’ve demanded an explanation, but I was too tired now—too drained to argue. Without a word, I signed the papers. The vice squad officer looked at me and asked, “Are you Anthony Leeman’s family?” I shook my head. “No, I’m not familiar with him. Just a colleague.” Lowering my gaze, I typed out a message to my father: [I agree to get married. Give me three days, and I’ll marry him.]

As my murderer's claws tear into my abdomen inch by inch, my father and brother are seated in our family's banquet hall. They're celebrating Carly's 18th birthday and coming-of-age. "You'll always be my little girl." "Happy birthday, Carly." They light 18 pink candles for her. On top of the exquisite red velvet cake is a wolf figurine that they carved for her, and there are well wishes and laughter all around. Meanwhile, I'm curled up in a sewer filled with liquid silver as I bleed to death. My phone has been crushed, and I can't get out. I can only cry for help. A few days later, my father and brother show up together at the autopsy room. My brother stands by the operating table with a scalpel. He slices open the body and sews it back up like it's nothing. My father just covers his nose as he shoots a disgusted glance at my body. He urges my brother to hurry up with the autopsy report. "The victim is a young female wolf presumed to be of pure lineage. Before her death, she was subjected to prolonged captivity and torture. Her throat is nearly severed, her cervical spine is dislocated, and her chest cavity has collapsed. She was also injected with liquid silver before death." Hearing the report, my father looks so calm that it's just like a case study of no consequence. Neither of them can recognize that the body belongs to me—their daughter and sister!

On my birthday, my husband of five years accompanied his childhood sweetheart to celebrate her dog's birthday. Avery Simpson published a loving post: [The happiest baby in the world. Mom and Dad will be with you. I hope you're always happy.] Seeing the words "Mom and Dad", I commented a question mark with confusion. The next moment, I found myself blocked. Charles Logan called me and lashed out at me. "Why do you always have to mess things up at the worse possible time? You're worse than a dog. How despicable!" Shortly after, Avery changed her profile picture to one of her and Charles, hands intertwined. When I saw the obvious provocation, I didn't get angry like before. That's because I had already made up my mind to get a divorce.

Seven days before our mating ceremony, my Alpha fiance, Kael Arnett, changes the venue from the frozen plains of Beloria to a beach in Sendor. His friend, Ryan Gerber, gives him a knowing smile. "You moved the ceremony just because Lilith's pack lives by the ocean. But are you not going to tell Akalia about it? What happens if her pack goes to the wrong venue? "Besides, I hear that holding the ceremony on the frozen plain is Akalia's dream. Everything has already been planned around that venue." Kael picks up the tie Lilith gave him and holds it against himself, sounding unconcerned. "Akalia can't live without me. She'd risk her life for me, so wherever I go, she'll follow. The mating ceremony means everything to her, so she'll check every invitation herself. "Once she realizes the venue has changed, she'll quietly take care of any problems. Besides, if she really wants to visit the frozen plains that badly, I can always take her some other time." I stand around the corner as I brace a hand against the wall, listening in silence. After a long moment, I turn and leave without saying a word. When the mating ceremony begins, Kael stands on the scorching beach and anxiously calls me. "Akalia, are you okay? Why aren't you here yet? Everyone's waiting for you!" I gaze up at the northern lights above the frozen plains of Beloria and smile faintly. "I'm already here."