How Did The Chanteuse Join Fleetwood Mac?

“I’m pregnant too.” Sonia, my husband’s girlfriend said to me with a voice lifts with theatrical innocence. “Chase doesn’t know yet,” she continues casually. “I wanted to wait till the divorce is finalized. That way everyone will know I didn’t need to trap him with a baby… like you did.” There it is. The knife twist. Her eyes glitter with triumph as she walks out. I open my tote bag. The divorce agreement slides out easily. A thick stack of paper demanding my complete surrender of any claim to the Warren empire. In exchange for freedom. The woman who fractured herself trying to build a family out of dust is gone. I slide the signed documents into the top drawer of Chase’s desk. Let him find it. Let him choke on it.

I was Apollo’s most devoted follower, the lover he handpicked from a sea of worshippers. With me, he’d always shed his divine arrogance. He was so tender, so attentive. I actually thought he loved me to the bone. Until seven days before our Consort Ceremony, when I used my gift of prophecy to peek into our future together. I expected to see a lifetime of blinding love. Instead, I saw him violently tangled in the sheets with my adopted sister, Cassandra. Wrapped around him, Cassandra giggled. "You're so good to me, my Lord. Thanks to you, I'll finally get my sister's Sight and take her place as High Priestess." And Apollo—my god, my lover—smiled down at her with pure adoration. "Whatever makes you happy, little bird. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have played pretend for this long, let alone allow her to become a god's consort." In that split second, my heart turned to ash. My faith shattered into a million pieces. With seven days left until the ceremony, I didn't confront them. Instead, I fell to my knees before the altar of Hades, Lord of the Underworld. "I offer you my gift of prophecy. I will be your most loyal follower in exchange for your sanctuary." "Please. Take me away from here. Take me somewhere Apollo can never find me."

Kaitlyn Reynolds is a year out of college and fighting to become a journalist when she gets the biggest break of her young life: the shot at a cover story in Rolling Stone magazine. But there’s a catch. She’ll be covering the hottest bad-boy in rock, Derek Kane, whom Kaitlyn met when she was a freshman in college and he was a struggling unknown. It was passionate two-week affair: tumultuous, sensual, exhilarating... ...and it ended very, very badly. Now Kaitlyn has to decide whether she can face the pain of the past, her fear of the future – and the man who might just have been the One.

I suspected my husband's young assistant had signed up for some kind of socialite training program, all so she could try to become his mistress. She didn't call him "Mr. Anderson." She called him "Cocoa" because he loved drinking mocha lattes. It was her way of making herself seem special. Whenever he assigned her work, she didn't even move. She would just throw him a flirtatious look, twist her body into some exaggerated pose, and say, "What, you need me?" with a pout. In the end, I couldn't take it anymore. I told Perry Anderson to fire her. The second I said it, Faye Dawson leaned right into his ear and whined, "I know, I messed up. Don't be mad. I'll give you a kiss and make it better, okay?" And somehow, Perry actually fell for it. He smoothed things over like it was nothing. "Honey, Faye's a socialite. That's just how she is. Try to be a little more understanding." Fine. If he wanted to protect that fake socialite and throw away the real one, then he could forget about the billion-dollar contract from my father.

Eric Clapton never expected his ex-wife would move on overnight, and be living her best life. His friends have always mocked him for marrying such an ugly woman. When his mistress showed up, he couldn't exercise the smallest patience to stay married to Liana. "My mind is made up, Liana. Let's get a divorce. $90 million and the penthouse in Rochester will be compensation for your mental damage. Is that enough?" Eric put down the envelope and pen on the pillow beside her. Liana sat up, eyes glued to the man she has dedicated three years of her life to. "Is that all you have to say and offer?" She asked, her eyes holding a trace of detachment. Eric was stuck in thoughts. This was unlike the fragile and indecisive woman he married. Liana smiled as she gazed at his unreadable expression. "I can see you're really prepared for this, you know. This is obviously the first time in three years since you returned home before 11:00 pm, Eric." She added, her lips curling up into an enigmatic smile as she decisively scribbled her signature on the papers. The next morning at the courthouse, she held the divorce papers, her fragile heart tearing apart as she watched her ex husband smiling when he walked away, his hands carefully wrapped around another woman's waist while they strode to his car. Seeing him replace her so quickly was really heart wrenching, but right there, she saw another man who just got dumbed by his fiancee at the crucial hour, and without hesitation, she walked up to him and proposed to replace his fiancee. Now, what will Eric do when at the moment of his regret, he realised that she didn't only move on, but she's now his boss's wife?

Since I was a kid, my parents drilled it in—you're gonna be a Corleone girl, Giovanni Corleone's property. "This is just an alliance. Don't expect anything more." That's what he said on our wedding night. So I played the part—quiet, polished, dutiful. Then year three hit, and suddenly Giovanni couldn't keep his hands off me. Every night, something new. I thought maybe—finally—he felt the same way I had all along. Then I caught him kissing his stepmom. Funny. Just the night before, he told me kissing me made him sick. "I've been practicing with her—for your sake." So yeah. All that heat? Just rehearsal for her. So I ran. Took back my life—and our unborn daughter. The Don lost his mind looking for me. Begged me to come back—with the kid. But I would not stop for him anymore. I turned and walked straight toward the stage that was always mine.