Parachute Kids

Adam William. J. Hunt is one of the most successful business man in his city district. At the young age of 24 he was crowned the richest man in the city, now 36 he's one of the richest men in the world. Adam here is engaged to the "it" woman of his day. Vanessa Cortwell, a reknowned model and a woman of poise and gracefulness. Together they are the star couple. The richest tycoon and the hottest model. Things are just oh-so-perfect and their pouplarity covers most, if not all the "happening" magazines. Adam and Vanessa had both came to the same conclusions that having kids was bothersome. So marriage, yes. Kids, no. That was how their fate was going to be. But life shakes Adam up when in just one day, five different kids show up at his door step and guess what? They're there to stay. But no. Adam wanting to protect his image, legacy and engagement wants the kids to go. But now the question is.... Will they?

Damien Kings, the richest billionaire in the whole of Florida USA, he is known for his wealth and cuteness, he is also the country's sweetheart. He is also a single father with three kids: Kathy Kings: The first child, seven years of age, rude to ladies most especially those who get close to her dad and pretty though. Freddie Kings: The second child, five years of age, cute and handsome just like his dad and also a foodie. Flora Kings: The last child, three years of age, cute little angel, pretty and her mother died immediately after giving birth to her. The three don't want to see a lady with their dad, every nanny that comes to take care of them either get fired or resigns by themselves due to the children's mischievous act. But accidentally Damien meets with a lady and the lady eventually becomes their nanny. Who is she? Sylvia Jones, cute, nice, gorgeous, a true definition of beauty. She lives with her mum, Mrs Jones and she has a best friend named Rachel. She just lost her job and is looking for another one when she got an offer of being Damien's kids nanny and seeing she has got no job accepted the offer. What will happen when she gets to the house? How is she going to cope with the children? Will they like her? Or Will she get fired or resign like the others? All this question will be answered if you ride with me on this journey.

I somehow became the "dream girl" of a cold, dangerous villain straight outta a novel. Well—technically, it was my mini burritos that did the damage. Hot, cheap, and hit like a hug. The year his whole world crashed, Rory Roth showed up scrawny and wrecked, clutching three crumpled bucks. "Can I get one mini burrito?" I stood there with a spatula in hand, staring at the kid who'd one day become some criminal mastermind genius. But right now? No threat, no swagger—just a shivering kid with wary eyes. "I'm not tryna scam you. If it's not enough, I'll wash dishes, mop floors, help with customers—whatever. Once I make up the rest, c-could you make me a mini burrito then?" That's when it hit me. This so-called villain... was just a starving, beat-down kid.

After sharing a passionate night with the most hated Alpha in the kingdom, Sabrina never expected to see him again. But three weeks later, she’s summoned to his Pack. When she arrives, the Alpha glares at her with disdain and declares, “I’m pregnant. Take responsibility.” * * * Asher couldn’t care less about the rumors surrounding him. Ruthless and unrelenting, he has expanded his territories through bloodshed, leaving a trail of death and destruction in his wake. For his sins, the Moon Goddess cursed him—stripping him of his status and forcing him to the lowest rank of his kind: an Omega. Now, after an unfortunate one-night stand with a female Alpha, Asher finds himself facing an even greater nightmare. He is pregnant.

.Steve was a billionaire that loves his job and cherished his wife, but he lost his wife to the cold hand of death during childbirth, and few days after the death of his wife, he employed Saraphina as his kids nanny, and has having an affair with his personal assistant, and he two housekeeper that was crushing on him, Let's read on and enjoying the fun and the potentials In this story.

The day I went into labor with the twins, I bribed the family doctor to shoot me up with every heavy-duty suppressant he could get his hands on. Anything to stall the birth. Why? Because in my last life, Vincent—my husband, the Don—claimed to have a low sperm count. To guarantee an heir, he lined up ten mistresses and told the whole house: whoever popped out a son first, her kid would be the next Corleone Don. He promised if I delivered first, he'd ditch the others. Said our baby would inherit the throne. I bought every word. When I found out I was carrying twins, I couldn't stop shaking—I thought I'd won. But after I gave birth, he tossed me and the babies into the freezing wine cellar and locked the place down. "Lucy came from nothing. I just wanted to give her kid a name. You started rumors, pushed her into despair, and now she's dead—her and the baby. You're vile. Not fit to be the Don's wife. Think about what you've done. I'll open the door in three days." Then he had the butler seal it shut. What he didn't know? That night, the cellar caught fire. Me and my babies? Burned alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back—right before labor. This time, I'm not staying. Soon as I deliver and get back on my feet, I'm taking my kids and disappearing for good.