Bad Signs

She is just a good girl trying to impress her parents. He is a bad boy who only joined this website so he could get a couple of bucks. He has tattoos, a bad attitude, smokes, has no care in the world and has a horrible past back in England. He can't stand her because she is a little spoiled brat who listens to everything her parents tell her. She can't stand him because of his mockery and stupid sarcastic comments. It's hard to hate someone who has a panty dropping smile, someone who awakes all your sexual desires, someone who changes you into the best version of yourself. Live your life like everyday is the last and one day you will be right. Previously Known as Rent a Christian boyfriend.

A story about The Don who loved too much. ⚠️CAUTION!!!⚠️ ⚠️This book contains mature themes, inappropriate language and drug abuse.⚠️ "Have plenty of rest Alexandra because it'll be a very rough day." He says huskily looking deeply into my eyes. "I'll handle it." I answer my voice equally low before a smirk forms on my face. Alex Black hosts a show 'Red Flags' that interviews different women and reveals cheating partners. She receives a note about a ruthless billionaire who's story she can relate with and starts investigating him. Determined to find the red flags in the relationship, Alex Black gets closer to the businessman and tries everything to lure him into a relationship and expose his secrets. Join twenty three year old Alex in this challenge trying to get past the high walls of The twenty seven year old Aiden Matthew Kings a ruthless businessman and heir to the biggest mafia world.

Extract. " Why are you here?" She asked, staring out the window. She has refused to face him since he entered the room, treating him as if he were a ghost. She was a ghost to everyone but not to him and she wondered why. " Came to see you. Did I come at a bad time?" He asked. With a crooked sigh, she finally turned to face him, revealing a tear streaked face. Anger rose in him. Moving towards him, she muttered through gritted teeth. " Every time is a bad time Ray, don't you understand that?" " I understand if you're angry, I can always come see you tomorrow..." She cut him off. " I don't want you to come see me tomorrow or the day after that! I need you to leave me alone! Stop trying to help me Ray, we both know it's not going to work. I wonder why you even bother. Just go away!" " Why do you keep pushing me away?! I want to help you, why won't you let me?" " Because it's of no use. No one can help me Ray, not even you. And you trying is going to hurt the both of us! Even more than we can ever imagine." She spat, tears clouding in her eyes again. She was always crying and frowning. Never smiled. He never thought she knew what it felt like to smile. " But I love you! I freaking do! Why can't you understand and let me stay?" He yelled, shaking her, tears forming in his eyes at the one girl he loved but keeps pushing him away. " Then hate me. If you truly love me Ray... You would hate me." She growled, staring deep into his eyes. Giving him a choice, to hate or love her...

Disclaimer: Don't read this story if you are used to reading all-tell and spoonfed plot stories in the beginning. Broken Bad Boy will only annoy you, but if you are a fan of mysteries and puzzles with backstories, then go ahead. Percie Matthews’s life changed in a heartbeat on one tragic night. The affectionate turned him unloving and cold. The compassionate became egotistic and blunt. That's how Percie is known for. Until a smart, soft-hearted, and gullible Hailey Ward walks into his world. Hailey doesn’t swear, keeps her distance from people, especially a bad boy brooding like Percie. At first look, she knows Percie is trouble. When Hailey is looking for a roommate, he’s shocked to find himself offering her a place. What will happen when cold like him lives together with a kind-hearted Hailey? How will he keep his head straight when she keeps reminding him of someone he lost?

Three days ago, Damon Ashford marked me. The night he became Alpha, he sank his fangs into my neck under the moonlight. When his wolf blood mixed with mine, my wolf soul trembled violently. I thought the bond was taking root. I was too excited, too happy to tell the difference between real blood transfer and the simple sting of broken skin. This morning I went to City Hall without telling him. I wanted to pick up our certificate and frame it for our bedroom wall. I wanted to surprise him. The clerk checked the system, then looked up at me. "Whitmore, the mark on your neck is fake. There is no trace of wolf blood exchange." "Also, Ashford completed a formal registration with a woman named Clara Wellick two weeks ago." Under wolf law, a mark must be registered within seven days or it becomes invalid. I came to register, only to find I was never registered at all. I took off the scarf covering my neck and dropped it into the trash can outside City Hall. Standing on the steps, I sent my brother a message. Marcus, I’ll go with you for the closed medical research.

I put my t-shirt down, my hands shaking. I try to ignore them and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair color is dark brown and a vague hint of golden. My dad used to say that my eyes are ocean blue. A guy in my history cl once said that I had perfect s. Another guy said that I had a great body. They wanted to date me. And I dated few of them. I brush my fingers in my forehead. Then my dark, thick eyelashes. The side of my nose. My s. I run my hand at my neck, then across my collarbone. Am I beautiful? Honestly, I don't know. Maybe I'm not. "You were wrong, Angelina Valentine." A voice inside my head suddenly whispers. "Calm down, Angel," another voice whispers. It's the voice I loved. His voice is fading away. My hands start shake again, my breath rapidly quickening. I am losing control. I have to do something. "Goddammit!" I punch the mirror with my fist. It shatters into thousand pieces. My reflection has shattered into thousand pieces, too. The mirror now looks to me like an art. And my bloody knuckles. "I am sorry, Edwin. I can't promise you anymore, because you left me." I bite my to stop myself from crying. I won't cry. What's the point of crying? My sixth sense is suddenly alert. Somebody is watching me. I spin around. A guy is standing in front of the door, leaning against it. He wears a tight blue shirt, the sleeves folded. His black hair is ruffled and his hands are folded across his chest. The probable most amazing thing about him is his eyes. They are dark green. They are dangerous, beautiful and incredibly unreadable. And they are watching me.