Gangsta Granny Strikes Again!

My husband asked me if bras were more comfortable without underwire, and I was happy that he had finally become more mature. The next day, his assistant snatched the parcel I received in the mail, saying that it had the wrong address. That night, I saw Samantha Davis post on her social media, with the caption, “My boyfriend bought this for me. Isn’t it pretty?” It was a selfie taken in a hotel mirror, and there was a beautifully decorated box containing a bra lying beside her. So, as it turned out, it was not that men became mature later in life, it was that you weren’t the one they were willing to become mature for. Naturally, I gave the post a like and took a screenshot before sending it to my husband. "What a waste. You could have gotten an 20% discount if you bought the whole set."

'SHE STRIKES BACK' Is a tale of revenge, empowerment and the journey of a brave and emotional woman who transforms her heartbeat into an inspiring saga of strength and resilience. In a world where werewolves exist and power is often abused, Beauty proves that she is a force not to be reckoned with.

“You?” I finally found my voice “ you are the girl I slept with last night” he asked looking at me like I wasn't real. Oh shit how could I have slept with someone I've been forced to marry?. A heartbroken Anna was forced into marriage to save her father’s dying company, while upset she went to a club got drunk and ended up having sex with the same man she was to marry the same day, What happens when they meet each other on their wedding day and discovers the had sex??

What happens when tragedy strikes? Do you let it define you? Or do you sit still and let it consume you until you lose face? The life of Jasmine Harts began to crumble down before her face when she discovered that her husband, Fabian Harts had impregnated his mistress. This made her feel worse as her marriage was already nothing to write home about. It seemed as though their daughter was not enough for the Harts who wanted an heir. So Jasmine thought of leaving home but Fabian would not let her as he was scared of losing face before the public. But when his mistress puts it on demand that he makes her his wife or risk his reputation getting ruined, Fabian had no choice but to frame his wife Jasmine of infidelity. This way he could get rid of her without losing face. Jasmine was prevented from taking her daughter with her when she was thrown out of the mansion. And little Aria was just four years old. Will Jasmine let things slide after the cruelty of the Harts? Will the little and innocent Aria Jasmine was forced to leave behind at the mercy of her husband’s family remain sweet and innocent? Let’s see what happens!

On the streets of Milan, our nanny, Fiona, livestreamed my son’s limited-edition sneakers. A few days later, she shockingly transformed into my son’s stepmother. I overheard Anthony telling Fiona, “Once Francesca signs the divorce papers, all her assets will be ours.” Anthony was the man I had loved for ten years and had defied my family to marry. I took a step back, pretending to break down in tears, trembling as I told him I would give him anything as long as he didn’t go through with the divorce. What they didn’t know was that I had just dialed the number I hadn’t called in ten years. In a low voice, I said, “Father, the game is over. Your heiress, the principessa, is coming home.”

The Horror Game invaded the world. Real players entered the game, and their every move would be broadcast live. My adopted son shoved me—an eighty-eight-year-old woman—straight into a deadly dungeon to save his own skin. One of the comments in the live stream predicted: [What? They’re tossing in such an elderly woman? No way she’s gonna survive the first night!] On the first night, a frost-bitten ghost exhaled icy breath in my face. I shrugged off my thick floral coat, feeling sorry for her. “You poor thing! You must be freezing. Listen to me and bundle up quickly!” The second night, a starving ghost lunged at me with blood dripping down his chin. I sniffed the air, then found a jar of pickled cabbage. “Look at how skinny you are! Come on, let me get you something hot to eat.” On the final day, the last surviving players tied me up, desperate to steal the one ticket to escape. However, before they could touch me, every ghost in the dungeon came storming out, cleavers and rolling pins in hand. “Touch her, and you’re dead meat!”