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Second Chance Series Book One. ***** To some, marriage is a word. To others, a sentence. ***** Excerpt He unlocked his safe and pulled out some papers. He threw them on my face and gestured me to pick them up. I glared at him, refusing to listen. "Come on, pick them up" he ordered like he was talking to a pet dog. When I didn't listen he crouched down to my level and picked them up himself. "Do you know what it is? It's our marriage contract, read it!" He threw them on my face again. "I said fucking read it!" He yelled loudly. "Don't make me do something, you'll regret afterward, read it, I'll beat you if I have to" he threatened. I picked them up with trembling hands and blurry vision. I saw my signature at the bottom of the page, my breath seized as I stared at it. "Read it!" He ordered, standing tall before me. 1. I will not work. 2. I will respect my in-laws. 3. I will do whatever my husband tells me to. 4. I will take care of my husband as an obedient wife whether I am treated like a wife or not. 5. I will bear children for my husband, I won't have any parental rights over them. My husband will have their sole custody. 6. Finally, I will be ready to go to bed with my husband at his wish whether I like it or not. A single tear fell on the page followed by many others. He snatched the contract back from me. "Now you understand your place?" He asked menacingly.

A mature CEO of a successful clothing company develops a crush on his new secretary, a girl more than twenty years younger than him. After carefully navigating his feelings and the professional boundaries between him and his secretary, he discovers that the crush is not as one way as he initially thought. Can a secret crush that turns into a passionate affair develop more? Could these two people, despite the difference in their age and social position, create a lasting, loving relationship?

On my second day of employment at the city hall, I took over my colleague’s tasks. A young man came requesting for a new copy of his marriage certificate. It was far from his first visit. My colleague, Bernard Anderson, laughed. “This is the 99th time he’s here to get a copy of his marriage certificate again! We have all of his information ready, so the process wouldn’t take long.” I was stunned. “99th time?” Bernard laughed. “That’s right. He married a rich older woman. They always fought, and they would tear up their marriage certificate whenever they fought. “He’s so immature. Only an older lady would be able to tolerate him. I heard his wife is from the wealthiest family of our city, the Jameson family.” Immediately, I frowned. “The Jameson family has always kept a very low profile. Is his wife a fraud?” Bernard immediately stopped me from talking. “Don’t say that, she’s the rightful successor of the Jameson family, Mae Jameson.” I was stunned. My phone slipped from my hand and fell onto the desk. It was a photo of Mae and I on my lockscreen. Before me, the young man’s face fell. He snatched my phone. “Who are you? Why do you have a photo with my wife?”

I begged my husband for weeks before he finally agreed to come with me to my prenatal appointment. The whole time, he just stood there with his hands buried in his pockets, watching me coldly as I handled everything on my own—paying the bills, checking in at the front desk, running around like crazy until I was completely overwhelmed. The second I walked into the exam room, he vanished into thin air. And to top it off, he took off in my car, leaving me to take the bus home by myself. As soon as I got on the bus, my phone buzzed. He'd sent me a screenshot of a receipt: [Companionship fee: 50 dollars] [Round-trip gas: 7 dollars] [Total: 57 dollars] There was also a voice message attached. "Our marriage is strictly fifty-fifty. What does your pregnancy checkup have to do with me? Why should I give up my day off to go to the hospital with you?" Listening to that icy message, I suddenly remembered the way he once got down on his knees in front of me, begging me to help pay for his education. I was so angry, I just started laughing. Fine then. If this was a fifty-fifty marriage, it was time to settle the score!

Celia Johnson, my boss's sister-in-law, joined the company as the finance director and announced that all reimbursements must strictly follow the standards. I spent an entire week running around for the company and finally closed a five-hundred-thousand-dollar deal. Because the client had used two extra packs of paper towels, the per-person amount for their meal ended up eight dollars over the limit. Celia folded her arms, glanced at the reimbursement form on my desk, and sneered. "Five hundred and eight dollars?" "Yes. Last night at The Peak Restaurant, where we closed Richard's deal. Zack was there too," I explained patiently. "Eight dollars over the per-person limit. Not reimbursable," Celia said coldly. I tried to reason with her. "This was a special case. The client is high-level, and the deal amount is large, and Zack personally said it would be fully reimbursed last night." She returned the reimbursement form to me. "I don't care who said that. Don't think closing a five-hundred-thousand-dollar contract lets you ignore company rules. Reimbursements must all follow policies. Everyone will follow them to the letter." I took a deep breath. I knew arguing with her head-on would get me nowhere, so I called Zack directly. Zack said, "I did say it would be reimbursed, but I never said company rules could be ignored. It's just five hundred. And you still get commission from closing the deal. You young people need to have perspective." I stopped arguing. I turned around and refused the delivery containing the hard copy of the five-hundred-thousand-dollar cooperation contract, smiling as I explained, "Company rules say all cash on delivery packages must be refused. "Also, today is my last day here. Starting tomorrow, I work for Richard's company. As the client, I will be setting the rules this time."

DEOS The world is distorted, yet most are oblivious about it. The creator seems to have abandoned his works and has left it incomplete, appearing in inappropriacy. All that's left is a book that is said to have all the records about the world and they call it "DEOS". Being aware of the distortion, a person becomes "awakened" and gains a power that can manifest their thoughts and mental images into the physical realm, a power that's almost like the creator itself. But, without the "awakening", normal people cannot see the actual power of the awakened nor the distortion, making them see what's beyond the superficial world.