A Hundred Chances Is Enough Right Novels & Stories

Another man shouted as they moved closer to us “Just because she is the new whore doesn't mean we're buying her” “What?!? That’s rich coming from you” The man next to me spat back, taking a swing at the newcomer who recoiled in surprise, nearly falling over. “How much gentlemen?” Father asked. “10,000” “Make it 50” Father bargained. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes and tears welled up in my throat as soon as Father finished speaking. “20,000 Herschel, I am not going above that” “30” A third voice responded.

"I'll give you a hundred, and that should be enough." "No, I don't think a hundred is enough," Richard said, shaking his head. "I want five hundred." He looked from me to Sage and back to me, not even regarding Luke at all, who was closest to him. He was probably banking on his ability to easily kill Cassie with a flick of his knife and determining that it was faster and he could do it before Luke got to him. Looking at the two of them and the distance and knowing their abilities in the first place, I knew that he could probably do it. So it wasn't wise for Luke to make any move; either way, Luke didn't seem to be risking it personally right now.

'Young lady just calm down, she's surely going to be good. 'What are the chances?' 'Let's say 80percent chance.' 'Oh then I guess we can bet on that yeah?.' 'Yes we can but as soon as the money is deposited.' 'How much are we talking about doctor?' she asked with a slight frown on her face. 'Just ten thousand dollars.' he replied casually. 'Just, really just?' she asked '.....I don't have that much doctor, I don't even have half of the money.' she said to the doctor in a sympathetic manner.

“Ouch.” He shrugged again. “I call it like I see it.” I sat there, turning over the possibility in my mind. The thought of doing it was terrifying, soul-wrenching, agonizing… but… “Do you think it’d work?” “Honestly, I don’t know. I figure if you do it, you might have a twenty percent chance. Maybe.” “What about if I stay?” “One percent at best. Besides, if it doesn’t work, well… at least you got to go out on your own terms.”

"I choose you dying screaming." "Wrong answer." She pulled the trigger. Click. Empty chamber. Russian roulette. "Lucky. One in six chance. Let us try again—" "Catherine wait—" I stepped forward. Hands raised. Desperate. "The fortune. Take it. All of it. Right now. I transfer everything. You let Hope go. You win. Completely. Totally. Everything you wanted."

"That's not it. I'm here because I love you. I told him those things because I love you. I don't want to hurt you anymore. "Matthew, I love you. I'm in love with you..." Words of love always sounded beautiful. If this were before, I might have forgiven her again. But this was the 100th, and I had no forgiveness left. Even if she meant it, so what? I gave her a hundred chances. "I don't want your love anymore, Tiffany. Just because you love me doesn't mean I owe you anything in return," I said. At that, Tiffany's tears finally fell. She gave me many firsts that day—her first time looking disheveled, her first time crying. But none of it moved me.

“Casey, I’m sorry. Things between me and Paris were messy… I get why you’d be upset. Just give me another chance. Let’s pick a day to get married, and I’ll go with you to meet your parents. We’ve been together five years, and we were doing so well. It’d be a shame to throw that away.” I pushed away the necklace he tried to give me and let out a cold laugh. “Who says it’s a shame? It’s not. I’m finally free.”

“It’s worked just fine up until now.” Jessica let her gaze rest on me a moment longer, as if she wanted to see whether I realised how ridiculous my habit had become. I knew damn well that I couldn’t keep playing the eternally single Josh now that I had passed thirty by more than two years. It goes entirely against our instinct to remain alone, especially after thirty. If you manage to hold out until your thirtieth year and have the misfortune of not having found your true partner, then it is natural for a wolf to settle for the second best option. I had simply never been able to make myself do that.

"I won’t waste myself again." "Oh! About work," she said, remembering. "We have this tough client I haven’t been able to land. Maybe you’ll have better luck." "Who is it?" "A wealthy French investor. He’s passionate about art, but he's really picky. I’ve pitched to him so many times with no luck." "I can try," I offered. "What’s the worst that can happen?" "Exactly!" Nia grinned. "With your taste and eye for design, I’m sure you’ll win him over."