102 Minutes

What do you do when you're so utterly and brutally betrayed by the two people you love most in life? Life hasn't been kind to Lucy, right from a few minutes after she was born until now that she's a happily married adult. In the blink of an eye, everything she knows is proven to be a lie, and she is thrown into despair. In a surprising twist of fate, though, right at this trying time, luck finally decides to shine on her in a really big way. Her greatest heart's desire is suddenly granted, along with unimaginable success. Now, it's time for revenge ... time to show those who looked down on her and betrayed her that she's a force to be reckoned with. However, it seems that the universe isn't done dealing her a bad hand, because terrible secrets from the far, dark past suddenly begin to rear up their ugly heads, and seemingly unknown enemies begin to spring up out of nowhere to cause her problems. Will Lucy be able to conquer these problems? Will her new-found love with Nathan survive these sudden twists in their formerly perfect life?

Sylvie Bouchra, à l'insu de Louis Vincent, a envoyé la jeune fille qu'il gardait chez lui dans un top conservatoire à l'étranger. Louis, que tout le monde décrivait comme un homme froid et détaché, est instantanément devenu fou. Il a envoyé Francis, son fils avec Sylvie, sur un bateau de croisière à destination de l'Arctique. Il a forcé Sylvie à lui livrer Flora Richard. Sylvie regardait son fils de cinq ans pleurer pitoyablement sur le bateau, qui naviguait progressivement vers les eaux internationales. L'assistant de Louis tenait l'enfant suspendu au-dessus de l'eau, tout le petit corps de l'enfant exposé au vide. La voix sinistre et étouffée de Louis a résonné : « Sylvie, il ne te reste que cinq minutes pour réfléchir. Si tu refuses toujours, ton fils tombera dans la mer ! »

Revenge. Sweeter than a kiss laced with honey. Hotter than the deepest depths of hell. And, it hits harder than a f*cking train… I want all of it. I need it more than the air filtering through my lungs. And the constant, unsteady but racy beat of my heart when I’m around them. Darius. Jace. Hunter. It took them five minutes to destroy my life. Faster than it took the eighteen years of my existence for my father–the alpha of the Black Syndicate–to ruin me. I was neglected. Abandoned. Rejected. Pushed around and outcasted by my pack. Now I have to prove myself so my father’s gang won’t kill me. All because of them and by the hands of my father. Want to know the worst part? They are working together. What they don’t know is, once I get released from the juvenile detention center for werewolves I was sent to because of them–I will tear them to shreds. One by one. I, Elise Cartwright, will get my revenge. NOTE: This is an enemies to lovers dark/mafia/werewolf romance where the girl will end up with multiple love interests. (Reverse Harem)

I am diagnosed with severe systemic lupus erythematosus, and I only have three days left to live. When my husband rejects my 188th plea for help, I take my test results and enter the hospice care center. "Hello, I'd like to schedule my own cremation process and apply for government aid." Ten minutes later, they arrive. Before I can speak, my lawyer husband, Jasper Horton, coldly slaps me across the face. "You're faking a terminal illness just to steal attention from Janice?" My doctor brother, Casey Carter, snatches the medical report from my hand and scoffs at it. "Lupus? If you're going to fake being sick, at least make it believable. Only one in a million people gets this." I endure the pain in my body, return to the counter, and hand in the application form and my medical records once more. The staff member sees the butterfly-shaped rash on my wrist and sympathizes with me. "I have no family left," I say. "I'm requesting cremation in three days, location doesn't matter. I just don't want my death to burden anyone."

Imagine standing in your white dress, 20 minutes to your wedding and your boyfriend of 4 years and supposed soon to be husband walks in and tells you it was all a mistake and he doesn't want to marry you anymore. You're devastated, because everyone is in the hall waiting for you, both the same people that have mocked you for being in a relationship that was heading nowhere; you should have listened to them. Now you run out crying, after begging him in tears to please consider taking you back (I'm such a fool) You're in the garden crying and you meet his hot half brother and you both share his cigarette. Now he has a proposal. To save you from shame and for personal reasons for him; He's asking you marry him. But it doesn't end there, because you never knew that he was in the Mafia, a top ranker at that, and he has obsession issues. He will literally kill anyone he dares to look at you, he will protect you, even take a bullet or two for you, but there's a catch. You must not fall in love with him. Sounds crazy right? Well let's go

Sofia Russo dashed into the elevator, running late for work. But as soon as the doors closed, she found herself face-to-face with the notorious mafia don, Luca Greco. Her heart raced as he pulled her closer, his smoldering gaze sending shivers down her spine. Suddenly, he whispered in her ear, "Two minutes before the elevator stops. Enough time for a quickie." Sofia was taken aback, disgusted by his brazen proposition. She tried to push him away, but he was too powerful. “Disgusting” she blurted. "Sofia Russo," the words rolled off the tongue of the infamous mafia don, Luca Greco, as he pulled her closer, his smoldering gaze locked onto hers. "Ex-husband Tony Moretti. Has a seven-year-old daughter, Isabella." Sofia's heart raced as she realized this man knew more about her than she'd ever imagined. "Give me a chance, sweetheart," Luca demanded, his voice silky smooth. "Let me take care of you and your princess." Sofia was lost in the intensity of his gaze, but she knew better than to fall for a man like him. She'd been burned before and had no intention of repeating the same mistake.

« Mademoiselle Lebrun, nous avions suivi vos instructions à la lettre : le corps ‘mort' vous ressemblait en tous points. Nous devions le livrer dans dix jours, directement sur le lieu de votre mariage avec Monsieur Humbert. » Au bout du fil, la voix calme de l'employé procurait enfin un peu de répit à Doriane Lebrun, dont les nerfs étaient à vif depuis des semaines. « Parfait, je vous remercie », répondait-elle. « Tout est en ordre, rassurez-vous. Aucune suspicion n'est possible : l'identification sera indiscutable. » Doriane sentait alors son souffle lui revenir, comme si un poids immense se soulevait. Elle prenait encore quelques minutes pour confirmer les derniers détails de l'opération avant de raccrocher. Puis, recomposant son masque de sérénité, elle franchissait la porte de la loge privée. À l'intérieur, les rires et les conversations s'éteignaient instantanément à son entrée, comme coupés au couteau.

My name is Ivy Lawson. At 3:00 am, I get a call from Christina McSpire, a parent of one of my students. "Hello, Ms. Lawson, I noticed Zoe only spent five dollars on her meal yesterday. Did she not eat any meat?" she asks. Pushing through my exhaustion, I reply, "Don't worry, Mrs. Street. I'll check on it tomorrow." Another half hour goes by, and she calls again. "It's supposed to rain tomorrow. Can you remind Zoe to bring an umbrella?" I can hardly keep my eyes open. "Got it," I reply absentmindedly. A few minutes later, my phone rings once more. "Please make sure Zoe brushes her teeth for three minutes. It's also important that she scrubs each side of her face at least three times." Suppressing my frustration, I calmly respond, "Zoe is in her senior year of high school. I'm sure she's capable of taking care of herself." I expect that to be the end of it, but when I wake up, my silenced phone shows over a hundred missed calls.

Richard Lorde’s childhood friend had just become a widow. On our fifth wedding anniversary, he brought his childhood friend and her daughter into a karaoke box and removed my ring right before everyone. “Lily needs a proper status right now. It’s no longer right for you to wear that ring. “Resign from your job tomorrow and take care of Lily and her daughter.” Everyone in the room fell silent as they waited for me to blow my top off. But I said nothing. I calmly brought out the divorce agreement I had already signed, put it on the table, and left. My best friend stood up to advise me against it, but Richard just swung the wine glass and snorted. “Let her. She’ll come begging for my forgiveness before tomorrow.” When I slammed the door shut, I heard laughter from the room. What they did not know was that half an hour ago, I had received a message telling me that my visa application had been approved. The person in charge of picking me up had been waiting at my house ten minutes ago. This time, I was not turning back.

My husband, Alex Walter, was the head of the Bodyguard Association. When I was about to be killed by the kidnappers, he was comforting his childhood crush, Susan Miller, who was sobbing in his arms. While the kidnappers stopped for a meal, I called Alex five times calmly. He was angry when he finally answered. "Susan was just rescued from the kidnappers, and she needs me. If you want me to come home, stop using your own kidnapping as some excuse to compete for attention. It is pathetic!" Hearing Susan's sweet and delicate voice in the background, I had no time to argue with him. Instead, I called the Bodyguard Association. The operator informed me that Alex had pulled all the city's bodyguards away thirty minutes earlier to rescue Susan. When the kidnappers returned, they mocked Alex's heroic efforts to save Susan, mobilizing the entire force for her. If I remember correctly, this was Susan's twenty-eighth kidnapping this month. As the kidnappers approached me with guns and tasers, I closed my eyes in despair. Before I died, I used all my strength to send Alex one last text message, [No matter what, I loved you. Move on from me.]