Portrait Of A Scotsman

I was a sketch artist acting for the police. On a secret mission, I was discovered by a murderer. My eyes were gouged out, and my body was dismembered, unceremoniously dumped in a garbage bin. On the brink of death, I called my boyfriend, a criminal investigator. However, he hung up on me because he was busy accompanying his first love to a prenatal checkup. A few days later, he received a painting that was a vital clue to finding the murderer, but he thought I was playing tricks on him. In his anger, he tore that portrait to shreds. After he found out the truth, he spent the whole night searching through the garbage to piece it back together.

My mother was the best portrait artist in the police station. She had a strong sense of justice and brooked no evil. However, all I got was a sharp retort when I called her to save me. "You know it's your sister's coming-of-age celebration today, and you're cursing her? Kidnapped, are you? Fine, the kidnappers can kill you for all I care." She assumed it was a prank call. So, she refused to go to the police station and do her job. I wasn't saved in time and was tortured to death. When the DNA report came out, she came to the scene all wobbly. She drew a portrait of me with my bones as reference, her hand trembling all the way. "Jessica? It can't be her. This is a mistake!" She tried again and again. Yet, it didn't matter how many times she redid it as the portrait showed my face. My mother, who had hated me my whole life, teared up.

Since a little boy, William always wanted to be a knight to help the Kingdom's people fend off their enemies and provide safety to his family. So, he found himself a mentor has dedicated from a nobody to a fledgling squire. But fate shall test William's resolve as every step to reach knighthood; new enemies arise to challenge him. Join William as a powerful shadow organization threatens the Kingdom and his loved ones. Would he rise to the occasion and be a knight that the Kingdom needs? Or will he crumble beneath it all?

The night before I was supposed to leave for my study trip to Bath, my boyfriend Ethan suddenly tagged me in our three-person group chat. "Nora, check your train ticket. There's a surprise." I opened the railway booking app. The ticket from London to Bath had turned gray. The page read clearly: Trip cancelled. Refund issued to the original payment method. The cancellation had been made yesterday afternoon. Before I could even type a reply, messages started flooding the chat one after another. My best friend Sophie sent a string of laughing emojis first. "Ethan, you lost again. You're covering all the coffee this month! I told you she wouldn't notice even the day before." Ethan replied quickly, "Fine, you win. Nora, you're so oblivious. Hurry up and buy an open ticket without a reserved seat. Sophie and I will take turns giving you ours once we're on the train." They chatted away enthusiastically, the screen filled with emojis celebrating their winning bet. Just like the camping trip, when they'd bet on whether I would cry over beetles and deliberately broke my tent zipper. Or the time before that, when they'd bet on how long it would take me to start wheezing after accidentally eating peanuts, and hid my EpiPen in the highest kitchen cabinet. Every time I told them with red-rimmed eyes that I really did mind, their answer was always the same. "What's the big deal?It was just a joke." I stared at the group chat for a long time. In the end, I said nothing. I left the three-person group and bought a plane ticket to Inverness for the next day. I wanted to see the lakes of the Scottish Highlands in winter, to see just how blue the sky could be when the wind swept across the moors. On my own, done with toxic people for good, the scenery might be just right.

He worshiped her like a goddess. She let another man make her moan. Duncan Moretti had everything—power, wealth, control. Women wanted him, men feared him. But when Aphrodite walked into his world, she didn’t want his money… she wanted his soul. And he gave it to her. Every kiss, every whispered promise, every desperate moan—he thought they meant something. He planned the perfect proposal, ready to give her forever. Until she didn’t show up. Until she arrived hours late—smiling like she hadn’t just crushed him. Until a man walked in uninvited, laughing, calling her home. And when Duncan followed her, broken and burning, he saw it all with his own eyes—Aphrodite naked under another man, moaning his name like she once moaned his. Now Duncan isn’t the man who fell to his knees. He’s the man who’s rising—with revenge in his blood and nothing left to lose. She wanted to be worshiped? He’ll make sure she remembers exactly how it feels.

Rosalie Maxwell is the breadwinner of her ungrateful family. She does everything she can for them, pays medical bills, electricity and tends to all their needs even though they've never appreciated her. The only reason she looks forward to the daily visits to her parents house is because of her grandmother, the woman who did a better job at raising her and her brother than their own mother. Taking care of her family, taking their constant ungrateful treatments, and the insults has become a normal routine for Rosalie. But one day her whole life is up in shambles when her beloved grandmother goes missing. When Rosalie finds out that her, Grandma Mary has Alzheimer's which makes Rosalie all the more scared about what may happen to her. She has nowhere to run to. So, she goes to the only person she thinks can help her. Her boss, and the man that seems to inherit space in all of her wet dreams, Nicholas Sinclair. Philanthropist, Most handsome man three times in a row on the cover of Rayview Magazine. Rosalie is ready to do anything if it means getting her grandmother back. She'll take on extra hours, whatever it takes! But what happens when Mr Sinclair wants something far different from extra hours at work? What will she do when her boss tells her what he wants? He wants, Rosie.