7 Minutes To Heaven

Before I could shove my wife, Cheryl Craig, into the ocean, I turned myself in. The security guard frowned. "What? Are you saying that you're going to kill someone on this cruise?" I nodded. "It's 5:05 p.m. right now. In 20 minutes, I'll push my wife off this cruise ship. You need to arrest me, now." He stared at me like I had lost my mind. "You've got to be kidding! I've never seen anyone confess before the crime." He waved me off and started to walk away, so I had no choice but to start smashing things in the lobby. Only when the cuffs snapped around my wrists did I finally breathe again. In my last life, Cheryl was pushed off this very ship and fell into the ocean. Before I could even finish arranging her funeral, the police came for me. The ship's security footage clearly showed me pushing her overboard, but at that exact time, I was in a room with my father. There was no way I could've done it. I asked my father to testify for me, but he said I had already been planning to kill Cheryl for the insurance money because my company was falling apart. In the end, I was sentenced to death for murder. Even as I faced execution, I still couldn't understand it. I didn't do it, so why did everyone insist that I had? When I opened my eyes again, I was back to before Cheryl fell into the ocean.

It was finally the day of the auction "And now we are presented with a human who looks a little unkempt right now, but with a little care from her owner would be as good as new" the hosts voice rang over the speakers in what seemed like a dungeon used for illegal gambling. But I couldn't look much, being locked in a basement for three months without any form of light coming in, and suddenly being on stage where all attention and the center light was on me was enough to just make me shut my eyes and wait for what was to come. "We'll start with $25,000" is that really my worth. Do I really amount to nothing, that I have to be sold at an auction. "$26,000" "$26,500" "$30,000" "$30,000, is there anyone who wants to bid higher? Going once, going twice... This went in for a few more minutes and I gave up hope. This was it, this is where my life journey ends. I will get sold here then if my buyer is an organ trafficker he would probably kill me and sell off my organs. "Five hundred million dollars" a deep manly voice grunted from the corner of the room "Wow that's a very high bid...I doubt if anyone is willing to go higher than that. Going once, going twice, sold. Congratulations Mr Jimmie Hendrix, you just won yourself a hot looking toy...everyone is left to wonder what you will be doing with her tonight." Jimmie who was sitting in a dark corner of the room gave a sinister smirk and uttered under his breath "Found you!!!"

"Why did you leave the party in such a hurry earlier?" Ignoring her sarcasm, Kaleb changed the subject. He just had to ask! The audacity he had! Sasha smirked. "Did you want to enjoy seeing the girl you just a few minutes ago making a friendly chat with your girlfriend?" she snapped, her wound reopened. "Oh, so you left because of Claire?" Again, Kaleb's voice was mocking. "No, I left because of me," Sasha recoiled, and it was her stupidity sending him a text. "And what about you and Samson? I see the way he looked at you at the party. He seems to really like you and the both of you seem really familiar with each other. What do I make out of that?" Kaleb sounded different, odd even. —---------- When Kaleb Luthor decides to move back to the town he grew up in, Sasha Sullivan is bombarded with a lot of emotions. This is a guy she has had a crush on for as long as she can remember, and this is her chance to make him see her more than just his sister's best friend. But as she gets closer to Kaleb, Sasha realizes that he's a totally different guy from the one she has built up in her head, but she still can't let him go. A one night stand was all she needed… But she isn't prepared for the consequences that one night could bring…. And what an affair with Kaleb Luthor would do to her friendship with her best friend, Tilly Luthor.

Everyone in Ieplad knows Leopoldo Vece, the Don of the Vece family, loves guns but not women—until me. Ten years into our marriage, my adoptive father, Raffaello Conti, lies dying of kidney failure. Leopoldo launches a global hunt for a donor, sparing no expense to save him. He finds her—a young, fragile woman—and spends millions solving her every problem to ensure she is ready for the transplant. On the day of the surgery, she vanishes. I rush to her home in a panic, only to find my husband holding her gently in his arms, soothing her in a soft voice. "If you're afraid of the pain, don't donate then. I'll find another donor." "Is there time?" she asks quietly. "I heard Lucia's adoptive father is at death's door." Leopoldo brushes his hand over her hair, his voice indulgent. "I'll search the world again if I have to. You're still young; this burden isn't yours to carry." As my heart shatters, my phone rings. I answer numbly. The person on the other end of the line says, "Signora Conti, we regret to inform you that Raffaello Conti just passed away. We waited as long as we could for the donor, but his body gave out five minutes ago." I return to the hospital and handle the funeral arrangements alone. After that, I call Marianna D'Andrea, the Don's mother, and say, "I agree to divorce Leopoldo. Please help me disappear."

When my mind-link request had been ignored by my parents for the twentieth time, I went to the Werewolf Council, clutching the report on silver dust corrosion in my hand. “Hello. I’d like to renounce my pack identity—effective immediately.” Ten minutes later, my parents burst in, dragging my adoptive younger sister, Elsa, with them, panic written all over their faces. The door burst open with a bang, and my Beta father charged in like a storm. His fangs bared, claws twitching. “You’re nothing but a spoiled brat craving attention! Stop this pathetic act. You’re an embarrassment to a Beta’s name!” My mother, a forensic specialist for the pack, immediately snatched the report from my hand. After a brief glance, she let out a cold sneer. “You faked this report just to get our attention? You’ve been a liar since you were a pup.” Elsa clung to both of them, tears in her eyes as she sobbed, “I’m sorry, Jenifer. It’s my fault for holding the shifting ritual. But please... don’t lie to our parents just to make them feel guilty!” Blood was still pouring from my nose, but I wiped it away calmly and stood tall before the werewolf councilors once more. “I haven’t had a real family for a long time. Please—remove all my personal records from the pack. I just don’t want my funeral—scheduled for three days from now—to be delayed.”

A new intern at the hospital claimed that she had excellent medical skills. Even without anesthesia, her treatments never caused any pain. The truth was that she had transferred her patients’ pain to me. After she went viral, many patients rushed to the hospital to see her. Some of them even had to bid for a slot to receive surgery from her. However, I was in excruciating pain due to all the surgeries she had carried out. I could no longer work and received complaints from the patients. In the end, the hospital fired me. I gradually discovered that I even experienced some of the side effects of the surgeries she had carried out on her patients. My hair started to fall, and I became as thin as a skeleton. Even walking caused me excruciating pain. I went to the hospital to question her. Everyone thought that I was jealous of her and that I had gone crazy. She calmly put on her surgical gloves as she faced my wrath. “Please don’t make a scene. I’m about to conduct brain surgery on the daughter of the wealthiest man in the city. I don’t have time for your nonsense.” After she entered the operating theater for five minutes, I suddenly suffered from an aneurysm and died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I had been transported back to the day when she had gone viral. I took out all my savings and bid for one of her treatment slots. “I’d like to try your painless gastroscopy.”

To take care of my paralyzed mother-in-law, I quit my job and spent three years as a full-time househusband. That day, after cleaning up her waste, I hid in the bathroom with a cigarette between my fingers and came across a post on my wife’s boss’ Instagram. [You’re meant to be with me in the end. Since that freeloader can’t give you happiness, let me take you to the paradise of Maldev.] Above the caption were two plane tickets. Someone commented below. [That homemaker husband of hers is definitely clinging onto her. After all, she’s his meal ticket.] The boss replied. [Don’t worry. Tonight she’ll go home and come clean. She’ll say the company was caught falsifying accounts and is facing massive fines, and that she might need to serve jail time. [To keep that guy from getting dragged into it, the only option is divorce. He’s as timid as a mouse and will take any chance to flee.] I stared at the screen, stunned, until the cigarette burned my fingers. Ten minutes later, my wife rushed home, panic written all over her face. She dropped her bag on the floor. “Honey, something’s gone wrong with the company’s finances. They’re accusing us of falsifying accounts. I was solely responsible for the accounts. I might need to serve 10 years in prison, plus fines of more than ten thousand dollars. “We need to sign the papers before they seize our house. I don’t want to drag you and mom into this.”

He was supposed to be a stranger. A bruised, scarred, filthy-mouthed stranger who pinned me against a bathroom wall and made me forget the boy who broke my heart 20 minutes earlier. I walked away first without his name or number, and I didn't look back. Then I found out my mom was engaged. To his dad. Rhys Maddox. Number seventeen. 6'3" of tattoos, bruised knuckles, and the kind of jaw that makes good girls do stupid things. The most dangerous player to ever step on our ice. My one-night stand. My new stepbrother. He doesn't follow rules - he breaks them. On the ice. In my bed. Against every surface in our parents' house while they eat twenty feet away. He calls me "sis" just to watch me squirm. He watches me like he already owns me. And the worst part? He does. Publicly, we're fake dating - a deal to keep my ex-bestfriend away. Privately, we're a stepbrother and stepsister who can't keep our clothes on the second we're alone. It's our biggest secret. Now the boy who I once considered my best friend suddenly wants me back. And the stepbrother who wasn't supposed to mean anything won't let me go. One wants to protect me. One wants to destroy me. And I can't tell which is which anymore. --- For readers 18+ who like their men possessive, their romances FORBIDDEN, and their chapters dripping with filthy, unapologetic spice.

Confused, shocked and petrified Eva asked that man why he wanted to kill her. She didn't even know him."W-why d-do you want to k-kill me? I d-don't even know you." Eva choked, as his hands were wrapped around her neck tightly. "Because you are my mate!" He growled in frustration. She scratched, slapped, tried to pull the pair of hands away from her neck but couldn't. It was like a python, squeezing the life out of her. Suddenly something flashed in his eyes, his body shook up and his hands released Eva's neck with a jerk. She fell on the ground with a thud and started coughing hard. A few minutes of vigorous coughing, Eva looked up at him."Mate! What are you talking about?" Eva spoke, a stinging pain shot in her neck. "How can I be someone's mate?" She was panting. Her throat was sore already. "I never thought that I would get someone like you as mate. I wanted to kill you, but I changed my mind. I wouldn't kill you, I have found a way to make the best use out of you. I will throw you in the brothel." He smirked making her flinch. Her body shook up in fear. Mate is someone every werewolf waits for earnestly. Mate is someone every werewolf can die for. But things were different for them. He hated her mate and was trying to kill her. What the reason was? Who would save Eva from him?

First day back in the office. I was face down at my desk during lunch when the desk next to mine started rattling under a series of hard knocks. I looked up. It was the firm's new architect, Flora Reeves. "Lunch time ended five minutes ago. You're still asleep at your desk? Don't bother coming in tomorrow. You're fired!" I told her I had just come back from a client meeting. I had been pulling all-nighters on the project for a week. She looked at me like I was something on her shoe. "All you do is take clients out, drink with them, and scribble a few sketches. "You don't even punch in. You're barely in the office. What gives you the right to nap at your desk during work hours?" I almost laughed in her face! I was the firm's chief architect. The bulk of the projects on Walsh & Co.'s books had my name on them. The firm's success was, frankly, carried by me. She saw me out of the office most days. She did not see me in another city, on another job site, talking down another client. And in our industry, most of those clients had hired Walsh & Co. because of my name and reputation. I kept my composure. "You're not in HR. On what authority are you firing me?" She said, "On the authority that my husband is the president of this company." I went still. When did my boyfriend get married?