Who Created Crash Bandicoot?

***Explicit 18+*** "I've missed the warmth of your pussy, the feel of it. God Ginevra, you're so fucking perfect." I rasped and tightened my grip on her. I began rocking her against me ever so gently with parted lips. Her tight pussy very often gripping unto my dick, taking me hostage with each rock against me and a loud scream finally escaped from the back of my throat. *** The game of chess is one love cannot salvage. When the king and the queen come out to play, they have no other goal set before them if not going at each other's throat for the kill until a winner emerges. This is the game of the mafia, the game that'd never allow Love exist between two rivals. They want to love and care for each other but don't know how- all they've known all their lives is loyalty to their famiglia and name. What would happen when the only option becomes death?

My dad urgently requested that I bring Jeffrey back as he was rushed to the emergency room following a car accident. I nodded, holding back tears, but deep down, I knew Jeffrey harbored resentment toward me. He blamed me for his shattered relationship, my inherited wealth, and for coming between him and his first love. Nothing could deter him from pursuing her, not even me. "Evalyn, today is Melinda's birthday. Can you just be reasonable for once?" He spoke these words amidst the familiar sounds of laughter before abruptly ending the call. Moments later, my dad took his last breath, his eyes wide open in a final, stark gaze. As I fulfilled his last requests, organizing everything as he had instructed, I decided to let Jeffrey go. It was only then that he began to regret everything…

“I need your help to fake a private jet crash,” I said quietly. “It’s the only way I can ever leave Luca Moretti.” People said he’d given up the Mafia throne for me. They called him the man who traded power for love— the heir who walked away from blood and gold just to marry a waitress from the slums. For years, he made the world believe in us. He built empires under my name. He sent me roses every Monday. He told the press I was his salvation. But love doesn’t always mean loyalty. While I was busy believing in forever, he was building a second home behind my back— one filled with laughter, toys, and twin sons who had his eyes. The night I disappeared, his empire burned. He tore apart cities, bribed governments, and buried men alive just to find me. But by the time he did— I was already gone. And the woman he’d once died for no longer loved him enough to stay alive.

Sandra Lowry is renting out her property for a living. A lifetime investment she couldn't really afford. When her best friend/property agent told her they were bidding on a new prospect that could cover her next 5-year rent, she was excited. The client, a handsome actor with a tragic past who would be living in her compound for the next 6 months. With her own past tragedy, the two developed an instant friendship that was rare and found a connection beyond what they've ever had before. Unbeknownst to her that her past was on its way to catch up with her and prevent her from moving on.

Dr. Lori Johnson finds herself in the middle of a series of weird turn events. Though she was the one people relied on but in this she had to rely on a stranger. A mysterious man who likes the shadows but who was the best at what he did. The two crash into each other with a bang and they find something worthwhile.

When I was seven, my constant vomiting got so bad that my mother took me to court and accused me of being born dangerous. If the charge stuck, I would be stripped of my family ties and sent straight to prison. Everyone said my mother was overreacting. "He's just a kid. Kids get sick. As his mother, you should be more understanding." But the moment the evidence was shown, the room went dead quiet. My mother had drunk herself into a stomach bleed just to land a contract, and the second she got home, I threw up all over it. The deal was voided, and she lost her job on the spot. On my sister, Ophelia Sowle's, birthday, I threw up all over her cake right in front of all her classmates. After that, she was shunned by everyone at school. She spiraled into depression and even slashed her wrists. It didn't matter where I was, at the dinner table or under the covers. I could start vomiting at any moment. My mother and Ophelia had to clean me up more than 30 times a day. It wore them down to the breaking point. What infuriated them the most was that every time I finished throwing up, I would look at them and laugh, as if I was mocking them. The judge brought the gavel down and declared me guilty of being born bad. Ophelia's eyes turned red as she cried, saying she couldn't bear to lose me. I didn't cry or fight it. I accepted the verdict. But I requested that the judge watch my memories first. The judge looked stunned. "Memory extraction means drilling into your brain. The pain is unbearable. Are you sure?" I nodded without hesitation. But Ophelia suddenly panicked. "I don't agree!"