The Fall Risk

What if you are invited in a falling game? Where your heart is in contingency. You need to act like a real couple in one whole month with activities you need to do together. What's the percentage of you not falling in love? Can you distinguish if he/she shows genuine gesture or is it a trap to make you fall? The prices are immersive, hard to nod off. Will you chose money or love? Or are you dictate your heart for the sake of money? Are you going to fall for uncertain love and vague love? Putting your heart at stake? Or you will play smartly, making your partner fall and ensure your winning place. This is the falling game and everything is fake. Once you fall, you lose. Good day Oxians! You are one of a lucky student to participate in the FALLING GAME. Golden rule: ONCE YOU FALL, YOU LOSE. 1. Exclusive for students of Oxford International School only. Any transferee or exchange students need to sign contracts to avoid problems. 2. Don't kill other participants. You are allowed to harm everyone in the game but killing is a crime. 3. No to inactive. Two absents mean a punishment plus removing to the game. 4. Can do activities and attendances. Failure to comply means a punishment. 5. Act like a real couple. Play your cards well and don't let your heart dictates your mind. We have eyes everywhere. If you are interested, please see us in FG house anytime. For further information and knowledge regarding this game, you may send an email to FGhouse@gmail.com

Nora, a quiet and talented artist, has always kept to herself, letting her creativity speak louder than words. Life takes an unexpected turn when she crosses paths with Jaden, a charming and irresistible basketball star whose reputation for heartbreak precedes him. What starts as a casual connection soon spirals into a passionate and consuming romance, filled with stolen glances, secret moments, and undeniable chemistry. But love is never simple. Betrayal, heartbreak, and jealousy test the strength of their bond, forcing both Nora and Jaden to confront their deepest fears and desires. As they navigate the turbulence of young love, they must decide whether their hearts are strong enough to endure the storms—or if falling in love means falling apart. Tender, raw, and unforgettably intense, “The Art of Falling” is a story about love’s power to heal, transform, and sometimes, break us completely.

When We Fall is a second-chance romance about a love that never truly ends. Maya Lancaster had everything wealth, beauty, power, and a future carefully planned by her family. But the one thing she wanted most was the boy she loved in college. Ethan Cruz was different from her world quiet, proud, and hiding a heart that fell first and never recovered. When her powerful family tore them apart, Maya chose to let him go to protect him. Four years later, fate brings them together again in the most unexpected way. Maya is now a successful CEO. Ethan is a respected surgeon, and the man she never stopped loving. As old feelings resurface and buried wounds reopen, Maya and Ethan must decide if love is worth risking everything again. With family pressure, unspoken pain, and undeniable chemistry standing between them, When We Fall is a story of young love, heartbreak, and the kind of connection that time can’t erase. Some loves don’t fade. They wait.

To save up for my wife’s expensive asthma medication, I worked the dangerous high-rise job around our apartment complex, even on a day with winds strong enough to knock someone off their feet. However, that was when I accidentally witnessed my wife cheating on me with her ex-boyfriend, and to entertain him, she picked up a fruit knife and slowly cut through my safety rope. My body slammed into the ground so hard that the impact shattered the bones in my leg. Only later did I learn the truth: the one with asthma wasn’t my wife at all—it was her first love. All the money I’d been saving for her? She had been giving him every cent. Eventually, the same cold, proud woman I once married ended up on her knees in front of me, begging for help. I called the building security over and had them drag her out. “Get that filth out of here,” I said. “It’s hurting my eyes.”

On the eve of the driving school's simulated road test, all twelve of my students signed a petition demanding I be fired. "Coach Sutton, we paid to get our licenses—not to hear you tell us every day we're going to kill someone." "All you ever do is slam the instructor brake or grab the steering wheel. Anyone who learns from you is doomed." The ringleader, Sienna Vaughn, threw a petition in my face before uploading a carefully edited video online. In the clip, I repeatedly stomped on the passenger-side brake and barked orders for students to pull over. Caption: "Gold Medal Coach... or Crazy Coach? Students are too terrified to touch the wheel." What she left out was everything that happened a split second before: the child who ran into the crosswalk just as I hit the brake, and the box truck drifting into our lane the instant I grabbed the wheel. Months earlier, when my previous class crashed on the freeway, I injured my knee pulling students out of the wreckage. The damage never fully healed. Ever since then, I'd become stricter behind the wheel. I braked when they ran a yellow light. I took the wheel if they didn't look in the mirror when changing lanes. Anyone who dared to touch their phone would have their training ended on the spot. But while I was at the hospital for a follow-up appointment, I overheard Sienna laughing in the stairwell. "Coach Sutton's just traumatized. Once we get her fired, let's see if she still sticks her nose into everyone's business." When I returned to the driving school, the owner, Victor Cross, told me to apologize and smooth things over. I looked at the twelve signatures on the petition and smiled. "Sure. Starting today, I won't touch the passenger brake for any of you."

As the only expert in the world capable of rescue dives below 3,000 feet, I received a once-in-a-lifetime salvage contract worth tens of millions of dollars. I had dived in those same waters over a decade ago. My son's research submersible had been damaged on the ocean floor. After his oxygen ran out, he suffocated in the dark. The grief nearly destroyed me. My husband, Griffin Lattimer, held me through it, staying by my side through countless miserable nights. I found out later that he had personally redirected the only rescue vessel capable of reaching the depths our son was at to save his childhood friend's daughter. That girl had merely choked on a mouthful of water in the shallows. I divorced Griffin and threw myself into deep-sea salvage like a woman possessed, diving over and over until I knew the undercurrents of those waters better than I knew my own home. I never wanted another child to die the way mine did. Today brought the same stretch of ocean, the same crushed hull, the same depleted oxygen, and the same impossible odds. When I opened the client's file, I went completely still. I recognized the name and face inside instantly. I would never forget either of them for as long as I lived. I smiled and slid the folder back across the table to my partner. "I can't take this one."