How Does Exit Pursued End?

Grace Anderson is a striking young lady with a no-nonsense and inimical attitude. She barely smiles or laughs, the feeling of pure happiness has been rare to her. She has acquired so many scars and life has thought her a very valuable lesson about trust. Dean Ryan is a good looking young man with a sanguine personality. He always has a smile on his face and never fails to spread his cheerful spirit. On Grace's first day of college, the two meet in an unusual way when Dean almost runs her over with his car in front of an ice cream stand. Although the two are opposites, a friendship forms between them and as time passes by and they begin to learn a lot about each other, Grace finds herself indeed trusting him. Dean was in love with her. He loved everything about her. Every. Single. Flaw. He loved the way she always bit her lip. He loved the way his name rolled out of her mouth. He loved the way her hand fit in his like they were made for each other. He loved how much she loved ice cream. He loved how passionate she was about poetry. One could say he was obsessed. But love has to have a little bit of obsession to it, right? It wasn't all smiles and roses with both of them but the love they had for one another was reason enough to see past anything. But as every love story has a beginning, so it does an ending.

“True love stories never have endings.” Dean said softly. “Richard Bach.” I nodded. “You taught me that quote the night I kissed you for the first time.” He continued, his fingers weaving through loose hair around my face. “And I held on to that every day since.”

"I agree to the divorce," I said as I dialed my mother-in-law's number. "Matteo Bellandi will never agree to divorce me, so you need to arrange a new identity for me. I need to disappear completely. He must never find me." Despite six years of marriage, I never conceived a child. In the Mafia world, how many men remarried for the sake of an heir? Yet Matteo always stood firmly at my side. To have a child, we tried everything—ninety-nine rounds of IVF that resulted in ninety-eight failures. The final pregnancy ended in fetal demise. Matteo held me and said, "Whether we have a child or not, I will always love you." Everyone said he was deeply devoted and that I was fortunate. Even I believed it. I believed it was my body that was defective. I believed I was the one holding him back. Until that day, when I went to the hospital for a follow-up exam. I saw him with my own eyes, pushing a mobile hospital bed into a VIP suite. On the bed lay a young woman named Sienna Vale, who had just given birth, holding a pair of twins—a boy and a girl. The congratulations inside the room were sharp and piercing. They praised his good fortune and Sienna's superior genes. They said the children were born to inherit the Bellandi empire. They mocked my education and my background and said I could not produce a "high-quality" heir. "Who do you think you are, daring to speak about her? My wife is not someone you get to judge. If I hear one more word of disrespect toward my Donna, you'd better weigh the consequences yourself," Matteo rebuked them coldly, preserving my dignity as Donna. In that moment, I finally understood that the marriage I had been so proud of was nothing more than a joke in everyone else's eyes. If that was the case, I would end this love story everyone envied with my own hands.

“Where is she?” “Where is Marianna Clarkson!” “Has anyone seen her!” The entire populace of the Crimson Moon Pack got thrown into confusion once the ruthless, unforgiving and callous Alpha Nickolas Cambridge began searching frantically for a mere wolfless, dirty, unwanted and disgusting commoner. Her name was Marianna - the only dirt in the Pack. Why? What prompted him into going on a desperate search for her? Where did Marianna run off too? She had endured the cruelty of the Pack for years, what could have made her run away? What could fate possibly have done to entwine the Alpha with a peasant?

Trigger Warning: This story explores difficult themes including emotional and physical abuse, coercion, non-consensual drugging, obsession, and trauma. Reader discretion is advised. Love. Lust. Obsession. Three very different men, but they all have one thing in common... Me. I was just a waitress. A woman with burned bridges and a dream of starting over. I thought I was finally free. A clean slate. I was so close... so close to gaining the independence I fought so hard for, until darkness came again, only this time… tenfold. One’s lust wants to own me. Another’s obsession seeks to break me. The third... I’m drawn to. He treated me like no one else did. I thought I could trust him. Then something shifted. Something terrifying. Hope fades when your body is not yours, your voice is silenced, and freedom is denied. --- As my fingertips brushed the smooth metal surface of the handle, claw-like fingers sank into my fleshy hips. I cried out in pure terror, the wind knocked out of me as my back slammed against his chest. “You’re really not leaving without saying goodbye to me, are you, sweetheart?” he growled. His eyes glowed an eerie garnet. “Remember, you belong to me now, Laura. If you ever dare run, I’ll lock you away where no one will find you,” he snarled, his coarse face scraping against mine. --- I’ve survived everything up to this point... Now, I’m not sure I can. They say I belong to them... Yet what if I was never meant to belong to anyone?

I worked super hard during Cyber Monday and pulled in 20 million dollars in sales, only for my wife, Chelsea Abbott, to credit it to her childhood sweetheart, who had just returned from studying overseas. I was so furious that I confronted her, but she clung to Donald Dixon's arm and said righteously, "Donald just got back, and he doesn't have a solid footing yet. What's wrong with my helping him establish some authority? Are you really going to argue with me over this?" I swallowed it. But at the year-end conference, Donald actually pointed right at my face in front of the entire company and yelled, "I produced these results myself. You're just a deadweight living off your wife. You don't even deserve to be here! Keeping parasites like you in the company is a total waste of resources!" My performance was used to build his reputation, and this was how he repaid me? I turned to look at Chelsea, but she didn't even spare me a glance. Instead, she announced to everyone, "Donald's right. The industry's moving fast, and Will really can't keep up anymore. Starting tomorrow, all of his responsibilities will be taken over by Donald!" Faced with everyone's eager, gossipy stares, I didn't make a scene. Last night, the industry leader the company had been desperate to flatter just sent me an offer letter. Since Chelsea was determined to fight side by side with her childhood sweetheart, this was where we would end.