How Can I Get A BKLYN Library Card, And Is It Available To Non-Residents?

Steal the CEO's Black Card... or His Frozen Heart? "Please... please, sir. I'm begging you. I didn't steal the card." Belle's trembling voice cracked as tears streamed down her face. "Believe me..." "You belong in prison, fraud!" the store manager spat, his eyes filled with contempt. Humiliated and surrounded by accusing stares, Belle could only clutch her worn bag and pray someone would listen. But no one did. After all, who would believe a poor medical student over the owner of a limitless Black Card? Belle had been fighting for survival ever since she lost her parents. An orphan with nothing but a dream. A dream of becoming a doctor. A dream she once shared with the parents she loved more than life itself. For years, she lived in a cramped room inside a rundown building. She endured hunger, sleepless nights, and the mockery of classmates who looked down on her faded clothes and worn-out shoes. Life had never been kind to her. Yet despite her hardships, she never stole. Never cheated. Never took what wasn't hers. So how did she end up accused of stealing the Black Card belonging to Ethan DelValle—the cold, powerful, and untouchable CEO everyone feared? The man who could buy anything he wanted. The man whose single word could ruin lives. And the man who, for reasons she couldn't understand, suddenly became interested in hers. What begins as a humiliating misunderstanding soon entangles Belle in Ethan DelValle's world—a world of wealth, power, secrets, and dangerous attraction. She never wanted his money. She never wanted his Black Card. But what happens when she accidentally steals something far more valuable? His heart.

He was the campus king. She was the only heart he couldn't steal. Jace Kingston is untouchable. Star hockey player. Campus legend. A walking trail of broken hearts and whispered warnings. Girls call him King. They say it like a prayer. I say it like a curse. He nearly ran me over with his sports car last semester. He throws money around like it means nothing. He smirks while girls cry over him. And now, thanks to my tutoring job, he's my assignment. One semester. One paper. Five hundred dollars that I desperately need to keep a roof over my head. The rules are simple. He shows up. He does the work. He doesn't flirt with me, charm me, or treat me like another conquest. But Jace Kingston doesn't follow rules. He shows up with bruises he won't explain. He looks at me like I'm something he wants to break. And when he accidentally lets his armor slip, I see something terrifying underneath. A boy afraid of becoming a monster. A boy who flinches at loud voices and keeps a photograph of his mother hidden in his drawer. A boy who might be just as broken as I am. I can't afford to fall for him. I have rent to pay. A future to build. A promise I made to myself when I watched my mother die with nothing but debt and a daughter who couldn't save her. I swore I'd never depend on anyone again. But Jace is everywhere now. In my study sessions. In my thoughts. In the way my pulse stutters when he says my name. And when his demons come hunting, I realize the worst truth of all. He's not just my enemy anymore. He's the one person I might destroy myself to save.

Warning: Brutally Raw Erotic story for mature minds ONLY! The kind that stalks you, creeps up on you in the dark, and makes you mumble prayers. Triggers and themes: Insane taboo, Stranger’s BBC on a crowded subway, Age gap, Slut for a stalker, Obsessed with the masked man, Dark kinky, Pervert savior… *** *** Isla has always been a wild teenager. Her blissful life gets messy when she fails her scholarship exam to the city’s college and her overly protective mum offers her to the convent as a nun. On her way to the cathedral, she meets the Subway Perv who is about to be her only way out of her twisted fate. Except that the price for her freedom may cost Isla her soul.

The three heirs of the Whitman family all claimed to love me. But their way of loving me was to keep me hidden. Alexander said New York's financial reporters were too aggressive and that making our relationship public would only put me in the middle of a media frenzy. Nicholas said people in the investment world were vicious gossips and he was afraid I'd become a target, so he never brought me to his partners' gatherings, private clubs, or holiday receptions. Leon said his music career wasn't established yet. Once he had a stage that was truly his own, he would acknowledge me in front of the whole world. I waited four years. This changed when Lillian Grant walked into their lives. Alexander walked her down the red carpet at the Manhattan Art Foundation gala. The next day, every entertainment outlet ran the same headline: "Eldest Whitman Heir Appears to Go Public with New Romance." Nicholas brought her to an investor reception, where his partners called her "the future Mrs. Whitman" right to my face. Leon was the most direct. He played a song at a twenty-thousand-person concert and told the livestream camera, "For the most important person in my life." The jumbotron cut to Lillian's seat. The day after the livestream. Alexander set a folder on the coffee table. "You're twenty-five now. We think it's time you had a life of your own." Nicholas continued, "This man comes from an ordinary background, but he has a stable job. He's been divorced once and has no children. " Leon slid the photo in front of me, smiling with the same easy warmth as always. "We've already met him for you. He's more than a good match." I didn't argue. I just picked up my phone and called the Whitman family attorney. What they didn't know was that the family trust Grandfather had established before his death made one thing perfectly clear. Whoever I chose would receive that twenty-seven percent block of voting shares and become the true power behind the Whitman family.

Some people have a good life, some people have a great childhood, well some people have a roof on top of their head. But not me, I’m different than most people, I lived in my car, worked in the local library, I was no one, add to that being a little doesn’t really help my case at all. It was all going to downward to hell, until I met them, I’ve met her first, then her husband and they wanted me, homeless, bookworm and all. This our story, our adventures, and our love. Contains ddlg and mdlg, you’ve been warned. Apologies for any misspelling and grammar mistakes.

A drunk rich kid speeds down a pedestrian walkway and hits my daughter, shattering her femur and breaking multiple ribs. She hasn't woken up since. Now the boy's mother wants to settle. She sits across from me with her chin lifted and slides a settlement agreement across the table. "Ms. Carlisle, just sign it and don't hold up my son's future." Rage burns through every last shred of my composure. I grab the document and hurl it in her face. "Not a chance!" She doesn't even flinch. Her lips curl into a smirk, and she looks me up and down. "The law says you only have to pay about a million if you kill someone. Your daughter isn't even dead. I'm offering medical expenses plus two million dollars on top. How does that sound?" She pulls out a black card and holds it up like a trophy. "You probably don't even know what this is. It's a globally limited black card." My eyes land on it, and I recognize the pattern instantly because I had it custom-made as a birthday gift for my husband. A metallic taste rises in the back of my throat, but I force the blood down, every ounce of rage coiling behind my eyes. "How much is your son's life worth? Name the price. I'll buy it."