Will They Or Won T They

Violetta was supposed to be the other woman in her own life. After discovering her husband, Mark, in an unforgivable betrayal with the one person she trusted most, her world fell apart. But what started as the end of a relationship became the beginning of something she never saw coming. In a world where she was once discarded, Violetta discovers that the sweetest revenge isn't just about moving on but it’s about moving up. When she crosses paths with a man who sees her worth, she finds herself playing a game that Mark never intended. Now, she’s not just moving on; she’s rewriting the rules of the family that once tried to break her.

His love is needy and possessive but yet, waits patiently for her broken heart to mend. Her innocent heart is forcefully shattered from deception, lies, toxicity and manipulation leading to a failed relationship and another. A third one becomes a taboo. Every man had something that would leave her regretting and in pains when secrets began to unfold. She develops fear to love and be loved by the right man. It becomes more difficult for her heart to open up when those hideous forgotten relationships hunts her back to her bittersweet past. Her hate becomes more intense. Her coldness mixed with beauty, confidence, smartness and determination makes her more alluring and wanted but how can he gain entry to a violently shut heart and how long can he wait for a flicker of hope? In this love hate entanglement, the outcome is uncertain. While one waits endlessly for a romance that would transcend work relationship the other hopes to forever shut down the desperate yearning to feel genuinely loved.

Elena Jones and I became orphans on the same day. Her parents are killed in a mass murder, and my father—the killer—is executed on the spot. For a month straight, Harborfield's most notorious playboy waits outside the courthouse, intent on keeping Elena. However, she throws his black card right back at him, like a headstrong heroine straight out of a movie. "The Mr. Carter I admire is refined and noble. How could he have a nephew like you? I'd rather starve than accept anything from a thug." He lets out a sharp, amused laugh and crooks a finger at me. "A death row convict's daughter and a thug make a fitting pair. I'll back you. Are you willing?" While clutching the ten-million-dollar IOU my father left behind, I nod without hesitation. Later, he orders me to get into his uncle Daniel Carter's bed. "With all that sin on your shoulders, you're an even better match for him. That way, Elena will finally give up on him for good."

My fiance called me to post bail after he was arrested. When I arrived, however, I was informed that he was caught in a compromising position. "I came to protect Lily because I was worried for her safety," my fiance retorted, putting an arm around her shoulder. "But her boyfriend didn't believe me. Or is it the same for you too? Go post bail already." Nonetheless, I spied the lacy underwear poking out ever so slightly over his belt. In the past, I would have made a scene as I demanded an explanation. But now, I was as cool as a cucumber. When the cops asked what our relationship was, I paused in thought for a moment, before saying quietly, "His employer." Once I signed the papers, I texted my brother: [I'll go on that blind date. Schedule it for three days later.]

After her mother's death and her brother Reno's deportation, Riana is left alone in NYU. Life seems to only get worse when she finds her roommate and her boyfriend having sex in her bed. Alan's girlfriend just cheated on him. With his PA. In public. And they were caught by a server. Angry on his behalf, Riana bids on him at a charity auction to make sure his cheating girlfriend doesn't go near him again. She wins what she thought was a simple date with the man, but boy was she wrong. Riana wins a date with billionaire Allan Sinclair and a trip to Venice. For two weeks. With him.

. "Shhh, Daddy won't know," Lucas whispered, his hands tracing my thighs as the silk of my robe slid away. My husband bought the robe, but it was his son's touch that made me tremble. "Stop... Stop, Lucas," I said, but my body betrayed me, already dripping with a need I'd buried for years. I was about to make out with a 23-year-old boy, in the home his father paid for. The air was thick with secrets, my guilt a sharp perfume beneath his clean, dangerous scent. This wasn't fixing him anymore. This was him breaking me open, and God help me, I was begging for the crash.