7 Years Old

“Jayden! For heaven’s sake, we can’t make love. I’m way above your age!!” “We both know we want this,” he whispered against my earlobes, his fingers crawling under my skin. He doesn't want to take no for an answer. “You’ve been my secret crush right from when I met you, up until now.” ——— I was supposed to marry the man I’d loved since I was a child. But one brutal truth destroyed everything and I walked away from the altar — humiliated, broken, and alone. That night, my world fell apart again. But when I opened my eyes in the hospital, the first thing I saw was Jayden Sterlings. A twenty-five-year-old. Intelligent. Insufferably arrogant and far too young for me. Yet— somehow, he’s dangerously charming for my mental health. He offered me protection when I needed it most. “A secret marriage with no emotions and no strings attached. Just my own safety.” But living under the same roof with Jayden is dangerous in a different way. The kind that tempts you to forget every rule you’d sworn you’d follow. His touch burns through every wall I’ve built around myself. His voice makes my heart race too fast. And the way he looks at me makes me completely forget my own name. But when a terrifying secret about Jayden comes to the surface, I'm left with a difficult choice. Walking away from everything again… Or falling for the man I was never supposed to want.

I'm finally pregnant after five years of marriage. I initially want Morgan Holt to accompany me to the hospital so I can surprise him, but he stoically tells me that he hates hospitals. I can understand and accommodate that. Then, he surprises me—he accompanies his new junior to the hospital for a medical checkup. At that moment, I know our relationship is over. When I bid him farewell, I say, "She's your true love's younger sister, right? I can understand why you've transferred your love to her. I wish you two well." His eyes redden. "I can't live without you."

Have you ever been inlove with your best friend and never found the courage to say the word and voice out what's stuffing you in your chest? this is a love story of a girl name Zoe Marcus a nineteen years of girl who found herself loving her childhood best friend Arabella Anderson but was unable to say the one word that will make her accept her love. She watch her date Rowan, a guy they grew up with. no matter how much she wanted to confess her feelings, she couldn't not after seeing how happy Arabella wad with him. But it so much happened that Rowan never loved Arabella, but Zoe. Will Arabella accept Zoe after finding out about her true feeling for her? What will happen when Rowan becomes so obsessed over Zoe and will be willing to do anything to get her? read to find out.

By my third month on the job, I discovered that my coworkers had been calling me "the old crow" behind my back. The nickname came from none other than Jace's condescending secretary—because at 32, I was still clutching onto an eight-year relationship that hadn't ended in marriage. I confronted Jace. "Do you know your employees have been calling me the old crow?" He didn't even bother to look up. "That's just Sadie—she speaks her mind and means no harm. You're 32; why get so worked up over what a young girl says?" Then he gave me a faint, mocking smile. "Though honestly, it's a pretty fitting nickname." It felt like a cold hand had wrapped around my heart. So that was it—eight years of my youth, nothing more than a joke to him. I turned and walked away, handed in my resignation, and blocked every way he could reach me. But for the first time, the man who had always seemed so calm and untouchable finally panicked. "Elara," he pleaded, "please come back."

After being in love with Dylan for seven years, I planned to propose to him at his birthday party. But then I overheard him speaking to his friend in Italian: "You like Lydia? I'll give her to you. I'm tired of her anyway. Sarah is better—she's a dancer, young and sexy." He thought I couldn’t understand, but he didn’t know that I had learned Italian for him. I threw away the ring I had designed for him, tore apart the wedding suit I had sewn and left. Our friends were all speculating how long it would take before I came back. Dylan sneered with disdain, "She’s just an orphan with no family. Where could she go without me? Three days at most." But to his surprise, I never returned and found a new home.

To the outside world, Xavier Sullivan and I are a loving couple. In truth, my father sold me to him to repay the debt he owes the Sullivan family. When the five-year contract expires, Xavier's parents want me to extend it. They threaten me and tell me I'm heading for certain death if I refuse. I have no choice but to fake my death and leave everything behind, taking only the child in my belly with me.

WARNING: R-18 l MATURE CONTENT l SPG l VERY SEXUAL l READ RESPONSIBLY After sharing a hot steamy night, she left him the last money she had in her pocket. A one thousand peso bill as a 'payment for his service'. One week later, the agency hired her and she and started working as a personal chef and housemaid to a man whose identity was unknown to everyone. She only knew him as a CEO whom he thought an old man with a fat belly and a bald head. Working for the old man without seeing him for almost a month was peaceful and pleasant. Cleaning the house, cooking the food and leaving him a note to cheer him up everyday was now her favorite routine. She enjoys serving him. She loves the peace and silence her work is giving. Everything is calm and perfect, not until the day, a young, drop dead gorgeous bachelor with a piercing blue eyes, who happened to be a single dad showed up with his five year old daughter. Who would have thought that the old man, she thought she was working for, is the same man he ridiculed and measured the 'service' lousy and dissatisfied, turned out to be her boss? Could she still run away from him? or Will she let herself be trapped in the midnight again?

VENGANZA! The prodigious reason why Daxon Atlas Walker became one of the founders of FOEDUS. An organization where members swear integrity and loyalty. He embedded himself in the organization and faced all the atrocities to reach his goal; to avenge his mother's death. But events turned haywire, when Daxon meets, Tyra! Tyra li Sacchi is a rebellious woman who loves to travel, trying to escape from her chaotic family. A daughter of a known leader of a coven of fugitives, robbers, and smugglers, name all lawbreakers; her father leads them. What if Tyra is the daughter of the person Daxon was looking for to avenge his mother? Will he choose love over vengeance? Or the other way around? Abangan!

The night before my fiancé, Soren, and I were supposed to leave for Northern Europe to start our new life, the sounds of a lively discussion drifted from his private club. "Christ, Boss, are you insane? Why the sudden marriage alliance with the Rosetti family to make a play for Italy? Didn't you say you were getting out of the life with Abby and heading north?" Soren leaned back into a leather sofa, his voice nonchalant and muffled by a cloud of smoke. "Plans change. Besides, remember, I'm the one who made her who she is." "Once she sees the new empire I'm building, that little canary will come flying right back to my cage. The woman can't live without me." I stood in the shadows of the club, a wine glass in my hand, a dull ache blooming in my chest. The anniversary gift I had so carefully chosen for Soren was still in my purse, waiting for me to give it to him. I slipped out of the smoke-filled club, tossed the gift into the nearest trash can, and booked a one-way ticket to Northern Europe. But what he didn't know was that just as he could betray our future for Monica, I could abandon him for mine. All those years we spent dancing with death were never just for his sake.

On our third wedding anniversary, I received a cake from my husband. It had the names Clarisse Burke and Antonio Carey written on it, along with Happy Third Anniversary. But I felt like I'd been plunged into ice. That wasn't my name. Clarisse was his secretary. Sure enough, I saw my cake in Clarisse Burke's latest post, labeled Iva Grant and Antonio Carey. [Three years, and someone's already treating me like his wife.] Below, there was a comment. [Delete that post! The cakes got mixed up. Don't let Iva find out.] That was when I realized he had planned every romantic surprise in pairs. Holding my phone, I laughed at his pathetic attempt to cover it up. But I was done. I started planning my exit.