A Bride's Prayer On Her Wedding Day

Rule number one: Do not kiss strange men in clubs. Rule number two: Never kiss the owner of the club. Rule number three: If he’s a secret billionaire with a dark past and a disturbing obsession with your heartbeat? Run. My name is Scarlett Whitmore. And I broke all three. I was born with a heart condition called Mitral Valve Prolapse. My mother hates me for ruining her life. My brother cannot stand me. And my boyfriend, Drake Bittencourt, the man I thought was the love of my life, proposed to my twin sister in front of 19,000 hockey fans. And she accepted him without hesitation. When my sister walks into the club I work at, flaunting Drake’s ring without remorse, I make a rash decision: I grab the first man that catches my fancy and kiss him like my life depends on it. He turns out to be Harlan Rousseau. Team captain of the formidable Vancouver Icefangs. Hockey god. And according to the tabloids, dead broke and drowning in debt. But the tabloids are wrong. Not only is Harlan Rousseau NOT broke, he’s the secret heir to a ninety- billion-dollar oil empire. He offers me a deal: wear his ring. play the devoted wife. And sleep in his bed for a year. In exchange, he’ll pay off my medical debt and save my best friend from homelessness. The most important of all: he offers a chance to get my revenge. I should’ve said no. But I was desperate. And desperate women make deals with the devil. The longer I stay, the more I realize Harlan Rousseau is not just hiding wealth. He’s hiding a monster. And I’m starting to think I don’t want to run from it…

When your billionaire alpha 🐺 only married you for duty, you rejected him and left for good by faking your death When you meet again, his eyes on 🔥. He wants to devour you. But he's interrupted. “Mommy who’s that?” "A stranger." “Say that again? Who am I to her?!”

  “Liar. Slut. That thing in your belly isn’t mine.” Those were his last words before the door slammed and I hit the floor, shaking, wondering how the man I married had turned into someone who enjoyed watching me fall apart. Love wasn’t supposed to feel like punishment, but with him, it became exactly that. The insults. The bruises. The silence afterward. And the worst part was watching my own cousin the girl I grew up with slide into his life watching mine fall apart. He threw me out like trash. They both did. But I didn’t die out there. I got back up. And the woman who stood again wasn’t the weak one they tried to break. She was someone they should’ve feared from the start. There’s someone new now. He doesn’t see me as a burden but as someone worth fighting for. So when my ex shows up months later, suddenly soft-spoken, suddenly sorry, mumbling, “Emily… please. I messed up,” he expects the old me to crawl back. Instead, I look him in the eye and tell him the truth “You’re not part of my life anymore. You’re just what I had to survive.”

Kayla Green is not your typical girl. She is known and she has friends. People talk to her because of her easy going personality and caring attitude. Evan though Kayla seems happy at school and is always chirpy, she didn't have things easy at home, so she uses school and her friends as a way of escaping her problems. No one knew about her problems, not even her best friends. Carson Knight, the school's bad boy, who has his own secrets, has soon become a part of Kayla's life. He is very dangerous, cold hearted and a player. Would he be another bad thing to add to her life? Or would he be her saving grace?

My twin sister, wanting to be with her thug boyfriend, secretly planned to apply for a junior college. When I could not talk her out of it, I told our parents and managed to stop her. However, just a month into the new semester, her thug boyfriend cheated on her. She left a suicide note, blaming it all on the long distance between them. She wrote that if she had gone to that junior college, her boyfriend would never have cheated. Grief‑stricken, my parents turned all their rage on me. "You wretched girl, this is all your fault for meddling! What business was it of yours which school your sister went to? Even if she didn't go to college, we could still support her. We didn't need your big mouth!" "If it weren't for your spiteful tongue, your sister wouldn't be dead!" "We were cursed to have a vicious, unfilial daughter like you!" They locked me in her room, ordering me to repent. Then they took her ashes on a trip, saying they wanted her to see the beautiful mountains and rivers she never got to visit in life. A month later, they returned from their travels to find me long dead, starved to a withered husk in front of my sister's photo. Their eyes held no grief, no guilt, only a faint, scornful curl of the lips. In their eyes, my death was nothing more than justice served. My broken soul saw their icy expressions, and despairing tears burned my eyes. Then my sister's familiar voice rang out again: "What business is it of yours which school I go to? You're just jealous that I have a boyfriend, aren't you?"

My eyes fell upon a woman lying naked on the cold floor, her face hidden behind a curtain of tangled hair. Her screams echoed through the room as pain wracked her fragile body. I rushed to her side and gently brushed the hair away from her face. Cuts marred her skin, blood oozing from her split lips. Dark blue bruises had formed beneath her swollen eyes. She whimpered softly, every sound a broken plea for help. “Hey… I’m here now,” I murmured. “Nothing will happen to you. Don’t worry—I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore.” I shrugged off my coat and wrapped it around her trembling body, preparing to lift her into my arms when Max stepped forward and placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “Don’t forget what Ella told you,” he warned quietly. “Get the car ready,” I muttered, ignoring him. “You’re saving her life today,” Max said again, his voice heavy, “and one day, this girl will destroy you. Remember Ella’s warning.” “I don’t know what my future holds,” I replied coldly, “but I won’t leave a girl in this condition.” I bent down and lifted her into my arms. She squirmed weakly before burying her face against my chest, clinging to me as if I were her last hope. Mate. Dominic’s growl thundered inside my head. My breath hitched. My eyes widened in horror. Richard’s wife… The woman whose husband I had killed— She was my mate.

"Mmm...I'm going to enjoy making you my little whore, Emilia." ************************************ Abandoned by her family, and forced into marriage to clear their debts, Emilia yearns for freedom. However, even freedom comes at a cost, and Emilia must pay to none other than Marcelo Del Ponte, a notorious crime boss and mafia leader. Will Emilia be able to satiate his raw hunger? Will she be consumed by his obsession and lust? Can she change Marcelo into the man she once knew him to be? Will she ever be truly free?

It's Kleo's 17th birth and her closest friends have all decided to treat her for the day. While at a lounge, her mom(a nurse) surprises her with a single phone call telling her to come home early which was a shock due to how busy the nurse schedule is but when mother calls you just have to listen. Never been behind the wheel before and getting praised for her driving skills it was unanimously decided as a joke that kleo should drive which as it turns out was a bad idea to begin with. A truck hits her car and puts her into a coma and is rushed to the hospital. On the other hand there's Avan and Avan's mom has cancer. She has a year to live but as fate would have it her room is just right beside Kleo's room. Avan always used to see kleo's room full of visitors but never the girl they were there to see, however, he notices that it's empty today, the day the doctors announce his mother's remaining life span... Dejected, sad and angry he storms out of the room and happens to be around when Kleo's room was left opened, sneaking a peak to notice the beautiful girl that is unconscious.

Right after finishing a meeting, I opened a forum and saw a warning post. The location tag was our company. The title read: “Red flag! What a cheap company. Anyone who joins is a total sucker. They can’t even afford a decent coffee break.” The photo attached showed the expensive coffee and five-star desserts I had just asked my assistant to distribute to everyone. I frowned and tagged the entire group chat, asking if anyone had suggestions about the afternoon tea. A Gen-Z intern who had just joined, Julian Hayes, instantly replied with a voice message: “Boss, no offense, but these assembly-line desserts are full of trans fats. Nobody would eat them.” “A truly humane company hires a Michelin chef to cook and slice everything fresh on site. That’s what real respect for employees looks like.” I laughed in disbelief. Our company’s daily coffee break budget was thirty dollars per person—already considered top-tier in the industry. So I replied, “Since it’s impossible to satisfy everyone’s taste, we’ll cancel afternoon tea from now on and convert the budget into cash for everyone instead.” Less than five minutes later, that post was updated: “Guys, can you believe this? I made a perfectly reasonable suggestion and the lame boss immediately canceled the whole coffee break perk! This is the true face of corporate greed—can’t handle even a little bit of honesty!”

I spend an entire year preparing to get my daughter, Quincy Lindell, into a top international school. By the time the application review date rolls around, I have all the documents ready. I just need my wife's and my original marriage certificate to seal the deal. However, when I reach the admissions office, my wife, Wendy, blames me for taking matters into my own hands. I am about to explode when the school staff member says with a strange expression, "Mr. Howards, our system shows that you are not Ms. Lindell's spouse." My blood turns to ice. Before I can react, Zachary Shea, who has been quietly standing behind Wendy, passes his wedding certificate to the person in charge. The school staff member nods after checking her computer. "Ms. Lindell, Mr. Shea, your certificate was validated seven and a half years ago. You can now register your child for this school." Seven and a half years ago… That was the date of Wendy's and my engagement party. She held my hand in front of a room full of guests and said that I would be the only man she ever loved. That one sentence was enough to fool me for seven years.