2nd Hand Lyrics

At the class reunion, Grace Sullivan grabs me and tears into me with vicious lies. "She's an exiled Rogue who slept her way to the top with the director, Damian Pierce! My father's bed at the clinic? She spread her legs for it!" She slaps me across the face, rallying others to join the beating. Finally, she stomps down hard on my hand, the one gripping the scalpel, crushing the bones. Ethan Carter just stands there watching, cold and unmoved. He doesn't lift a finger to stop her. The pain sends tremors through my entire body, but I scream right back at her. "You're just jealous that I'm the better healer, that Ethan chose me over you, so you made up filthy lies to destroy me! "I'm a healer. Right now, your father is dying, and I'm the one who can save him. You want to stop me? Then get ready to plan his funeral." That's when my father, Damian, storms in and roars the truth for everyone to hear. "She's my daughter! Everything she has, she earned!" With my shattered hand, I push through the pain and charge into the operating room anyway. I'm not just saving a life tonight. I'm making sure the liar and the traitor both pay the price they deserve.

GAMMAS OF LUST SERIES 2 👑 Hi. I'm a prostitute. Shocked? Don't be. I was named Dorothy McAllen by my parents but life made me Marilyn Paltan, a whore. I thought being a prostitute was the end of life, but little did I know there's still a light at the end of the tunnel. "Dori it's our mate!" My wolf screamed after five years she's being dormant. Mate? Does a prostitute have a mate? Not just a mate but Mates? Gamma Lucian and Gamma Lucifer the most powerful werewolf generals are my mates? Fraid they'll never take a prostitute like me I'm sure. But wait, when Lucifer grabbed my ass, his other hand pulled my jaws and I faced his ferocious eyes as he breathed, "I will support you, even if you wanted to become an assassin but any man that touches what belongs to me, will surely rot in hell!" I thought that was all untill Lucian opened the door and snatched me from his twin brother, before sealing my lips with kisses and then inserted a finger in my hole and warned me, "I own you Whore. Every hand that touches you expect mine will be dipped in the Hades till thy kingdom comes" Damn! The two of them are fuckin enemies! I mean I'm mates with twin brothers that hate each other. Save me!

"Do you think I will ever walk hand in hand with a girl three times my size? I only dated you because I wanted to know what it feels like, being with a plus size". That statement got her speechless,her heartbreaking so hard it hurts. "Look ,shit happens sometimes". "Tim.... it's... my first time". She sobbed loudly. "Get over it, not like I forced you to give me your virginity,I had to go, clean up the red stains before leaving". He snarled. Beauty's heart pounding, and her tears flow endlessly. He left and slammed the door after him. **** Bullied for being a plus size since her childhood. Beauty Hills had to deal with insecurity ,trauma and depression, most especially self hate. Her name( Beauty) was said to be the exact opposite of her appearance. After many failed toxic relationships, she moved on and got a job in a fashion company. There she had a one sided crush on her terribly handsome and reserved boss,but Who wouldn't! Not every day you get to see a terribly good looking billionaire who isn't arrogant or proud of his looks,a top green flag! Every single beauty queen in the company is head over heels! Beauty knows she got no chance to compete with them It's useless to dream that big! Maybe not...

“Let. Me. Go!” She said, trying to run away from the man who now had her cornered. A familiar scent filled her nostrils, but she could barely find it in her to speak let alone call for HIS help. “You are mine now,” he glared at her, his eyes filled with rage. Her heart raced, and she tried moving away from his tight grip as he wrapped his hand around her neck, choking her. “I will show you what it is to try and run away from your Alpha.” Her breathing ragged, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head before the man’s hand loosened around her neck. His green eyes met hers in the darkness, and it was seconds later before his tattooed arms wrapped around her, holding her to his chest. “And that is what you get for messing with my MATE, Stefano…” ********************************* What if everything was nothing more than a lie? What if what you know was not more than a game? What if what you held onto was the one thing that was to drop you? When Alpha Diego is given a task by his father, he is forced to play the ONE game he hates most. The game of love. And the one thing that makes it even worse is that he forced to play it against the one person that he is supposed to cherish. His mate, Lea Auditore…

"Come this way." A man forward his hand towards the girl who looked confused over what was happening. She looked at his hand and then at him. "We need to go back." She took a deep breath and pleaded to him knowing what ever she will do he is not going to change his mind. The man smiled and took a step towards her closing their distance and cupped her face. "My Luna, you need to listen to your alpha, not to care about the pack. Now, should we go or you want me to you until the sun rises." The girl turned red and hit on the of the man who chuckled and pulled her closer, quickly leaving a peck on her lips. "Let me shift first." He winked at her and freed her arms.The girl turned her head towards the opposite side as a shy smile appeared on her face. Soon a t shirt fell on her head and she heard a chuckle.  "Stop teasing me." She pouted and folded the shirt in her hands. She hugged the t-shirt and waited for sometime to get the remaining clothes but there was silence around her. "Gavin." She softly called her husband's name but didn't get any reply. There was something wrong. This wasn't how this all happened. She quickly turned and saw her husband lying on the ground in a pool of blood. His eyes were lifeless and blood was still ozing out of the sharp wound on his .

The contractions were ripping me in two. My vision was going dark. My husband, Don Vittorio, the man who ruled Chicago, squeezed my hand. His dark eyes burned with love. "Just a little longer, mia cara. You'll meet our baby soon." Sweat poured down my face. I still found the strength to smile for him. Then a nurse walked in. She held a syringe. I thought it was to stop the pain. But Vittorio’s hand fell away. He took a single step back. The needle sank into my arm. I heard Vittorio’s voice. It was cold steel. "Dose her carefully. She holds on until midnight. Not a minute sooner. Not until after Ornella delivers." And then I knew. He thought I married him for the money. He was stopping my labor. All for a sick Falcone family rule: the first son born is the next heir. Pain tore through me. I reached for him. Tears streamed down my face. I begged him to stop. He bit his lip. His voice was pure ice. "My brother is dead. Ornella carries his only heir. You will do as you are told. You and your child will not steal his birthright." The drug hit my veins. The violent squeeze in my belly, like some invisible hand, just… stopped.

I set fire to my painting in front of the entire academy. Thunderous applause erupts from the crowd as everyone thinks it's some kind of performance art. Unlike them, Willow Laurent is distraught. She rushes up and grabs my hand, questioning in a shrill voice, "Cassidy Seymour, have you gone mad? This is your only chance to prove yourself!" I shake her hand off me coldly. My only chance? No… What she means is that it's her chance. In my past life, I created this masterpiece with all my heart and soul. But she stole it from me and submitted it as her entry first. Whether it was the composition, the colors, or even my original dot-stippling technique… She replicated every detail flawlessly. Then, she won the National Young Artists Gold Award, signed with a top gallery, and became a rising star. And what about me? I was condemned as a shameless plagiarist. Insults and curses gradually drowned me. "You shouldn't be an artist!" "Plagiarists are scum! They should just die!" Her fans stormed into my studio, smashed my art supplies, and broke my right hand. As I saw no end to the hell that I was living in, I jumped down from the top floor of my studio. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the very day she first accuses me of plagiarism.

Three years after our breakup, I ran into my ex-girlfriend, and she had her new boyfriend by her side. "Hey, isn't that Henry the expert?" Diego Stanley taunted with a smirk. "Three years post-breakup, and you're slumming it here playing with clay?" I furrowed my brow, ignored them, and carefully moved the Victorian-era porcelain musician figurine onto its preset base in the display case. When I wasn't biting, he reached out to grab the figurine from my arms. "What's this junk you're treating like gold? Let me take a look." Cynthia Wyatt frowned, her voice laced with that familiar arrogance. "Henry, I've given you three years to shape up, and you're still the same loser? Come on, hand over that clay doll to Diego. Don't kill the vibe. If you play nice, I might even reconsider our old engagement." As Diego's hand neared the figurine, I dodged quickly and barked, "Hands off! It's a historical artifact!" Diego got pissed off and shoved me hard. "Some flea market find, and you're acting all high and mighty?" In the ensuing scuffle, I lost my balance, and the figurine slipped from my grasp, crashing to the floor. That sealed their fate. This entitled pair was about to go bankrupt trying to fix it.

Waking up crushed under a man, I nearly screamed—until I saw who it was. Adrian. My cold, obsessive husband. The man I spent a lifetime escaping from. In my past life, I trusted the wrong people. Betrayed the only man who ever protected me and died alone. One life ruined me. This one? I’ll ruin everyone who tries again. Now, the game is mine and I write the rules. I'll act sweet. Stay mysterious. And pit every snake against each other. And as for my dangerously obsessed husband? I will tame—wait... WAIT! I was just being a little gentle, why is this tyrant acting like a delicate princess? 'Hey, hey, stop clinging to me! What? You want cuddles? Head pats? You—You are not a cat, Adrian!' … “He’s deathly allergic to strawberries? But he devoured one from my hand like it’s a miracle elixir.” “He has sleeping disorders? But he hugged me and passed out like a lazy cat!” “He’s sulking… because I didn’t hold his hand?” When he saw me hugging my female best friend? He lost his mind. Yanked me into his arms and growled, “Mine,” like a deranged villain in love. I finally understood: no one else ever stood a chance. I was his only obsession.

"I can't be with you," he states, and I look up at him in outrage. "This isn't right." I take a step closer to him, pressing my body on his and feeling him responding with desire. "Look me in the eye and tell me that it feels wrong." He doesn't move. But he doesn't turn away either when I lift my hand to his chest, letting my hand trail down. "Don't," he warns, but I can only hear lust in his voice. "Dont' start a game that you can't finish." I don't listen. I let my touch speak for itself, to let it translate all the need I feel in my body right now. I go lower, much lower, until he finally snaps and grabs my face, devouring my lips and pressing me up against the wall. "You asked for this, and now I have to claim you." *** Astrid Marshall has always been infatuated with her best friend's dad, former Alpha Klaus Slate. At first she thought it's just a childish crush, but she later finds out that they're connected in ways that she can't comprehend. They're fated mates. He's the man of her desires, but she's his temptation, the woman he's forbidden to have.