Are There Any Fees Associated With Downloading Exam 4?

⚠️ CONTENT WARNING ⚠️ This book contains explicit sexual content, including detailed descriptions of consensual sex between adult men. >>>>>>>>> Aiden Cross who grew up dirt-poor clawed his way into the nation’s top medical school with nothing but his brilliance, every perfect grade is another step toward the day he’ll destroy the father who abandoned him and his family. Then Nikolai Serrano shows up: filthy-rich, unfairly beautiful, and somehow able to match Aiden’s perfect scores without breaking a sweat. He invades Aiden’s classes, his space, his every thought, until the tension between them detonates in the dead of night.

Lila Harper gave the Black quadruplets her virginity, her loyalty, her soul. Ethan, Marcus, Callum, and Davian were supposed to be her fated mates, destined to share her, protect her, love her. Instead, they rejected her on her eighteenth birthday, called her weak, and threw her out to die. Three years later, she's back and she's not the broken omega they discarded. Something happened the night they severed the bond, something that rewrote her from the inside out. Now she walks through Blackwood Territory with power that makes Alphas kneel and a hunger that won't stop until she's taken everything they love. The quadruplets want her back. The bond is screaming to reconnect. But Lila didn't survive the rejection to fall into their arms again. She survived to watch them beg. And when four Alphas who've never begged for anything start crawling back to the mate they destroyed? That's when the real violence begins.

I have always had an almost pathological sense of paranoia. Ever since I was a child, I was convinced that the people around me were out to get me. Back in elementary school, when everyone was lining up for their student ID photos, I flatly refused to have mine taken. I insisted that the district office was going to use my picture for identity theft. The situation escalated so badly that the principal had to personally sit me down and spend half an hour trying to convince me otherwise. Then, there was the fingerprint registration system in middle school. The school required every student to submit their fingerprints to access the campus buildings. I was so terrified that someone would steal my biometric data that I literally rubbed the skin off all ten fingertips to make them unreadable. Even when my fingers were bleeding, I kept shouting that they were trying to steal my identity. I would rather climb over the school fence every day than cooperate. Every relative I had called me crazy. My parents were so fed up that they seriously considered having me admitted to a psychiatric hospital. I did not care. I guarded my privacy with obsessive determination, gritting my teeth and holding my ground all the way up to the eve of the final exams. Then came the day before the exam. That afternoon, our homeroom teacher, Tracy Collins, walked into the classroom carrying a metal lockbox. A warm, motherly smile spread across her face as she set it down on the desk. "Everyone," she said, "to make sure nobody forgets their documents tomorrow, I'd like you to hand over your IDs and exam admission slips for safekeeping tonight." She patted the lockbox reassuringly. "Tomorrow morning, I'll personally return them to each of you outside the testing center. This way, there's absolutely nothing that can go wrong." The class was deeply moved by her thoughtfulness. Some students even looked close to tears as they eagerly pulled out their documents and lined up to hand them over. Everyone except me. My hand clamped down over my pocket so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Cold sweat poured down my back. A sharp alarm bell was ringing in my head. Trying not to attract attention, I fished out a spare flip phone from my bag, ducked beneath my desk, and dialed emergency services. As soon as the call connected, I lowered my voice and spoke into the receiver. "Hello. I'd like to report a crime. My name is Charles. "I believe a teacher at St. Alden High is working with an identity-fraud ring and is planning a large-scale operation tonight involving examination fraud and identity theft."

The SAT was finally over, and our class gathered for a celebratory dinner when our homeroom teacher, Mr. Daniel Sanford, received an unexpected phone call. After hanging up, his expression turned grave. "A student in our class submitted blank answer sheets for every single subject." The room erupted in speculation as everyone tried to figure out who it could be. Then, to everyone's shock, the class president, Jayla West, approached me with tears in her eyes, apologizing over and over. She explained that one of the pencils she'd purchased for the class had been defective. Three hours after use, every mark it made would disappear—and by sheer bad luck, that pencil had ended up in my hands. In other words, I was the student who'd supposedly turned in a blank exam. Before I could say a word, my childhood friend and the school's top student, Samuel Ashley, stepped protectively in front of Jayla. "Ellie, Jayla didn't do it on purpose. It was an honest mistake. You're smart enough that even if you have to take the exam again, you'll still get into college. Stop blaming her." As I stared at the unquestioning way he defended another girl, a pang of sadness and bitterness shot through me. What Samuel had forgotten was that just before the exam began, we had swapped pencils.

My name is 504F and I was born a science experiment, property of the company I was born to. I was special though to begin with I didn’t understand why or how. I just wanted to live and be free. But the day they decided it was too much for me to even have that, is the day I went on the run. It’s also the day where the fight for my families freedom began. Join me on my discovery of my powers, as I figure out just who I am meant to be.

After I secured early admission to one of the country's most prestigious universities, my old high school invited me back to sit for the State Scholars Exam and compete for the top statewide score. But just ten minutes into the math paper, the proctor out of nowhere accused me of cheating. "Everyone else starts with the multiple-choice section. You went straight for the proofs. Were you planning to copy someone else's answers later?" Before I could explain a single word, he dragged me into the boys' restroom. Not only was I humiliated and forced to strip, I also had to let him inspect me over and over again to confirm that I had no cheating devices on my body. After I returned to the exam room, I decided it was better not to cause more trouble, so I started from the multiple-choice section like everyone else. But less than five minutes after I sat down, he yanked me up again. "This is even more fake. You didn't even take time to read or think through the questions before writing down the options. If that isn't cheating, what is?" "I suspect you knew the answers in advance. I'm reporting this to the exam board right now and having your exam qualification revoked!"