A Fatal Grace

A young teenage girl lost her mother in a suspicious manner, but unfortunately she loses her memory and doesn't remember a thing about her mother's death. By now she is a powerful, talented and a beautiful woman, but is still haunted by her nightmares. There is one thing about her, she never commits or when she does she keep that commitment till her death. What will happen when Ananya meets Veer in unwanted circumstances, falls in love with him and gets married to him, but Veer is a person who doesn't believe in love. Veer Raj Singh Oberoi a successful young businessman, richest man of the country who only loves two people in his life. His sister and his grandmother. For the world he is a dangerous and a ruthless business man who never loses. His is as cold as ice and scary as sea. Ananya Anahita Bajaj Oberoi, chief programmer of haynes cooperation, daughter of Anand Bajaj, a millionaire of the country. She is a strong, charming, and intelligent woman. A girl every man desires but can't have. Though she has a rough past, she is as warm as sunshine but can turn into fire if you dare to cross paths with her.

"Maybe I was destined to forever fall in love with people I couldn't have..." Grace was a soft touch, yet remained tough when the tough gets going. It was his guess that she would always forgive. She cleared her throat, gave another wink and sighed. "Laura said that's all part of moving on. But this love thing is hard to find, to forget nor keep." "True" Laurel replied. "Love is never supposed to hurt. It seems you high hopes on him". "Not really. I only hoped, but was totally wrong". "Don't you think it's for the better?" "Maybe". She said smiling. Right there, he knew he'd have to hold on to her. What do you think?

Tired of living her life monotonously after witnessing the most gruesome dark sides of life. Phoebe Carter couldn't be more than ecstatic given the opportunity to work in a foreign country with people as powerful as Hunter industries and Russo Industries. And of course to work alongside her friends Ava Hayes and Noah Hunter. However things take a swift turn when she lays her eyes on Blaze Hunter, CEO of Hunter Industries, and every single boundary she set in her life is shattered. Like a moth to a flame, she desires him, and surprisingly for her, the feeling is mutual. But we can't always say yes to our deep dark desires now can we? After all, Phoebe is anything but normal and Blaze is the exact opposite of what he seems to be. Even with a lot of things at stake, they continue their passionate affair. As dirty secrets are revealed, all the rules are shattered, lives taken, psychotic sides revealed, will it all end in an inferno? For some people are too damaged to be ever fixed at all.

"Sign this, honey!" Grace said, rubbing her husband's head, the words clipped. She couldn't wait to run for her dear life, but first, she needed to run from him as fast as her legs would take her. It didn't matter that she was scared of the outcome, but she needed to run first, and she needed it fast. Finally, after she had gotten him to sign it, she did what she had been meaning to since forever, without looking back. A few days later, she was able to do just that, without problem because her now ex-husband had traveled out of the country, but now, it was left to her to stay hidden, if she wanted to enjoy her freedom.

Queenie Livingston, my best friend whom I have cared for over the years, gives me a bottle of perfume. I immediately turn around and pour its contents down the toilet. In my previous life, that perfume made me sprout hair all over my body and reek. I was shunned by my colleagues, and my then-boyfriend and superior, Preston Zimmerman, wasted no time in dumping me and hooking up with Queenie. I desperately sought medical treatment back then, but with nowhere left to turn, I died in utter agony and despair. Only after my death did I learn that the grotesque condition was caused by the perfume Queenie had maliciously tampered with. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the exact day Queenie gave me the perfume.

On the day I rejected Isabelle Hale, Wall Street's newest golden girl, everyone thought I had lost my mind. She had everything: a Wharton degree, a national finance championship, a perfect family name, and a résumé polished enough to make doors open before she even knocked. But I knew what was hiding behind that name. Fifty years ago, her grandfather stole my grandmother's acceptance letter, her New York scholarship, and the future she had earned with her own hands. He used them to escape an Appalachian coal town with another woman, then built himself into a celebrated Ivy League professor who lectured rich students about ethics. My real grandmother, Grace Walker, was left behind in coal dust and shame. My mother grew up carrying the weight of that stolen life. They lifted me out anyway. I made it all the way to Manhattan, to a glass conference room at Northbridge Capital, where Isabelle sat across from me in a black suit tailored like victory. She thought her family name would protect her. She thought I would bow. Instead, I closed her file and said, "You didn't pass." By the next morning, they had fired me, dragged my name through the mud, and turned a press conference into my public trial. They forgot one thing. I didn't climb to the top of Wall Street to beg for a seat at their table. I came to take back every name, every chance, and every voice they stole from women like us.