How Does Birthday Boy End?

"You understand what it means for you to be mine, right? "He questions, and I swallow. Never breaking eye contact with him. "No... "I admit with my voice trembling. "If you become mine, "He begins, his tone dropping into a seductive growl that sends shivers down my spine. "You won't just be working for me. Your body will belong to me. I'll do whatever I want with you, whenever I want, and however I want. "He says, and as my back hits the wall my stomach drops. "You're not... planning to sell my organs, are you?" I ask, the words spilling out before I can stop them. "No, David, " "I mean, I'll fuck you whenever, wherever, and however I want. You'll be mine. My personal... plaything. Of course, you'll be taken care of. Shelter, food, Vanessa's bills... Everything. However, your main job will be warming my bed. "He says, and my eyes widen in horror. ***** His job was… ‘simple’. To rob him, and run as far as his resources could take him. He didn't plan to get caught. And even if that was a probability, he never expected to be spared. He never expected Salvatore to spare his life and keep him alive as a boy toy. He also didn't expect his straight self to fall for a man. Especially not one as rough, dangerous, and deadly as Salvatore. Are the feelings reciprocated? Or is David just a toy to Salvatore? This is the question that plagues David as he falls deeper and faster for this dangerous, Italian hot cake. Realizing he would do anything for the unpredictable man he had grown to love. When their dangerous world closes in, David must decide. Will he run, or will he risk everything for the man who could break his heart?

Seventeen-year-old Jordi Adkins' life became both liberating and nightmarish right after he came out of the closet. While enjoying the perks of freedom, he's also being followed by the nightmare in the form of the notorious bad boy Xavier Rockwell. When Jordi finally gathered enough courage to stand up for himself, he got beaten up. Things became clear: Xavier won't stop making Jordi's life difficult, and he has to live with it for the rest of his high school life. Jordi decides to attend a house party and drink his hatred and frustration out. When Jordi wakes up the following morning, he realizes that he just woke up to the craziest plot twist of his life. He wakes up in bed only to find a naked Xavier cuddled right beside 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!

I was a child who was born in a vocational school's toilet. To my mom, I was a stain in her life that she was given birth to after having her cherry popped by a delinquent when she was still young. I knew that Mom had been trying to kill me. Unfortunately, she hadn't succeeded so far. The first time she tried to get rid of me was when she decided to give birth to me in the toilet. It was a cold, winter month, yet she didn't give me anything warm to wear. The second time she attempted murder was when she got into grad school, which was based in the north. No one was around to take care of me, so she turned on the gas while holding me in her arms and clutching her train ticket. The third and last time happened when Mom was about to marry the man she loved. On the night before her wedding, she had tears streaming down her cheeks as she told me, "You're nothing but a burden. You ruined my life! "Do you know that I can only forget about all the pain and suffering you caused me after you die? Only then can I start a brand new chapter in my life!" I wiped Mom's tears off her face with my tiny hand. So, her wish was for me to die. On my birthday, my fever hit 104 degrees Fahrenheit. That was when I finally received the first slice of birthday cake in my entire life. I didn't have the heart to eat it, so I made my wish solemnly. "I hope that I will die soon." I heard that birthday wishes often came true. That way, Mom would be very happy.

On my 16th birthday, I treat myself to the most delicious cake I can find. On that day, before I can even take a bite, my parents, who are always at odds with each other, sign their divorce papers right in front of me. So, on my wedding day, I tell my wife, Keira Jarrett, "If you ever want a divorce, just get me a birthday cake." She hugs me tightly and promises me."Don't worry. 'Birthday' won't even be a word in our home anymore." Seven years later, on Keira's birthday, her assistant, Jackson Price, throws her a surprise party. She slaps him across his handsome, gentle face and kicks him out of Jarrett Group. That day, I am convinced I have chosen the right woman for life. But three months later, on my birthday, I find out the supposedly fired Jackson has been promoted to Keira's personal secretary. He personally delivers a custom-made birthday cake to me. I call Keira to demand an explanation, but her voice on the other end is cold and distant. "Jack meant well. Don't be a spoilsport." I freeze for a moment, then hang up. It turns out my parents are right all along. The only way a birthday cake tastes right is when it's served with divorce papers.

On my younger brother's 18th birthday, our parents book the most expensive revolving restaurant in the city to celebrate with him. But all because a waiter accidentally splashes a bit of water on the edge of his sneakers, my brother, Samuel Stone, blows up on the spot. "Do you have any idea how rare these are? They're limited-edition worldwide! Not even your life is worth as much as them!" The waiter, Rowan Lane, shakes in fright and bows his head, apologizing profusely. But Samuel just keeps going and makes a mountain out of a molehill. He even orders Rowan to get on his knees and lick his shoes clean. Our parents, who have always spoiled Samuel rotten, jump in to back him up. They yell at Rowan like he's committed some unforgivable crime. When this happens in my last life, I can't stand it. I step in and talk my family down, finally ending the farce. Unbeknownst to me, someone films the entire thing and posts it online. People on the internet call me kind and brave. By comparison, Samuel's tantrum makes him look like an entitled, vicious brat. He gets torn apart across every platform. He holds a grudge against me for it. After tricking me up onto the rooftop of a 30-story building, he shoves me off without a second thought. From that height, I hit the concrete and die on impact. When I open my eyes again, I'm back in that restaurant—right at the moment Samuel is pointing at Rowan and cursing him out. What Samuel doesn't know is that this "nobody" he's screaming at is actually the only son of the city's richest man, who went missing years ago. All the humiliation and insult Samuel dishes out that day is going to come back as one hell of a revenge.