50 People Who Stuffed Up Australia. By Guy Rundle & Dexter Rightwad

One of the best fashion designers of the industry and a billionaire's daughter Juliana Sanders is engaged to Adrian Butler who is the son of her father's millionaire friend. Juliana often gets jealous whenever she sees her fiance with his best friend Alice Rivera who is also a model and is secretly in love with Adrian Butler. Things get changed in her life when for the first time she notices a strange guy at her birthday party. Her life gets more complicated when she realizes that the strange guy named Alberto Mathews, most of the time is following her.

When sixteen-year-old Ruby Cole’s life gets uprooted from her sunny hometown to the loud streets of New York City, she expects the worst. New school, new rules, new people—total disaster. But she didn’t expect him. Kai Kingston. Her next-door neighbor. The loud, ridiculously handsome, rich boy who throws parties that last until 3 a.m. The boy every girl wants… …except Ruby. Because Kai is rude. Arrogant. Annoying. A certified heartbreaker. And after she accidentally embarrasses him on her first day of school, he decides to make her life miserable. But the more they clash, the more Ruby realizes that Kai’s smirk hides loneliness… And the more Kai pushes her away, the more he finds himself drawn to the one girl who refuses to worship him. Enter: A charming boy at school who actually treats Ruby right. A jealous Kai who hates how much he cares. Secrets, late-night rooftop confessions, family drama, heartbreak, and a love that neither of them expected. Because sometimes the boy she swore she hate… …is the one her heart can’t let go of. Welcome to the loudest, sweetest, most confusing year of Ruby’s life. Read to find out what happens

The Consigliere—my husband, Sal Barzini—who'd always despised anything soft or weak—suddenly started sleeping with a teddy bear. One button eye missing, filthy as a stray dog, yet he cuddled that beast every night, curled up in silk sheets like a baby returning to the womb. And left me freezing on the edge of the master bedroom. I couldn't stand it anymore. At our son Luca's first-year baptism, I announced I wanted out. Everyone went numb with shock. Sal grabbed a glass of red wine and threw it in my face. "You're jealous of a stuffed animal? Have you lost your fucking mind?" I wiped the wine from my cheek, cold as ice. "You say you want to spend your life with that beast. I'm giving you my blessing."

After dating Scott Kenta for 10 years, I said to him, "Scott, I'm pregnant." The file in his hands slipped and hit the floor. He frowned, clearly irritated. "Don't be ridiculous," he said. "This is a critical moment—my company's going public. I never planned on having a child." "It's fine. Your career matters more," I said, smiling gently. He didn't catch the meaning behind my words. I was pregnant, yes. But he wasn't the father.

A car accident leaves me unconscious for a full three years. When I wake up, my family bursts into tears of joy. They care for me with the utmost attention. But from their behavior, I sense something is wrong. There are women's clothes in the house that don't fit me. My mother's shopping cart is filled with mysterious baby items. My father's friends send congratulatory messages about a new child, and my husband is always working overtime. When my husband once again leaves me alone under the pretext that there is something urgent at the company, I secretly follow him. Inside a warmly decorated house, my parents and husband sit around a table. A woman who looks almost exactly like me is holding a baby just a few months old, gently coaxing the child to call my husband "Daddy".

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!