About Yesterday Caption

I bloomed early, my curves more defined than other she-wolves my age. The year I came of age, my Alpha brother, Asher, was terrified I’d be snatched up by some rogue. He asked his best friend—Alpha Caden of the Nightshade Pack—to personally look after me. What my brother didn't know was that the very first time we met, Caden got drunk and took me. He pinned me against the wall, claiming me with a primal urgency. He left his scent all over me, kissing every inch of my skin like he was obsessed. But the next day, he told me that if my brother found out, he would kill him. And so began our four-year secret affair. For four years, I was his personal healer by day and his secret lover by night. Until his first love, an Omega she-wolf, came back. I watched them in a passionate embrace as Caden kissed her with a tenderness he never showed me. As for me? The same mouth that had been tangled with mine just yesterday was now spitting venom. "Aria, don't forget it was you who faked the scent of my fated mate to seduce me four years ago." "Are you going to make a scene and try to force me to marry you again?" In that moment, I finally saw him for who he truly was. I called my brother. "Asher, I'll do it. I'll accept the marriage alliance with the Silvercrest Pack."

Hunter Webster is the Alpha's son; the next Alpha in line once he turns 18 but to humans, he's just the mayor's son, a bad boy and an embodiment of trouble. Hunter has a secret; his bad-boy attitude was just a cover-up for the grave sin he's committing until a girl from his past came into the picture, ready to win over his heart and unravel his darkest secrets.Babara Arnold attracts trouble everywhere she gets to, even if it is at school or home. She meets Hunter Webster after several years and in the process of trying to avoid the bad boy, she keeps on getting thrown into his hands. "What are you doing here?" I asked. I could hear murmuring around us."Eating, just like you three" he replied"You can't sit here," I warned."Why?" "You're trouble," I replied."Is that surprising? You see me in leather jackets, bikes and I have tattoos as well. Isn't that enough to let you know that boys like that are usually trouble? You don't have to state the obvious, Babe" He answered. "You need to leave" "If you want your cousin to be safe, you'll sit like the good girl that you are and have breakfast" He warned.I turned to look at Pinky and I could see the discomfort on her face. The guys with her waved at me to my disgust."Sit Babara. Don't make me hurt somebody else today? Yesterday was enough for me," He growled in an inhuman manner.

The following book contains mature contents. I laid beside her and turned her body to make it face mine. I slid my one hand under her waist and pulled her even closer to me until there was no space left between us. I hugged her feeling a lot of things; love, care, pain, hate. “Gabriel?” she whispered. “Yes love.” “I Love You!” There. She said those words to me. If she'd said to me before yesterday then I would've been the happiest and most probably the craziest person on earth. I would declare a holiday in the entire city, I would take her in my arms and kiss her until we both run out of breathe, but today, it was different. I felt only pain. “Zayla?” She did not speak. She was already in her wonderland. “I don't want to love you anymore Love.” ------------------------------------------------------------ Her past was a Werewolf, her present is a Lycan. Her past broke her heart, her present deceived her feelings. Stuck in between Worse and Worst, Then and Now, yet she goes for the odd option; end her life and finish everything at once. "Everything will be fine as long as I'm gone." Experience the life of Zayla; a girl for whom luck never favored and no good cards were ever dealt to her, as she is torn in between a Werewolf whom she loved immensely and was her pride and a Lycan whom she trusted blindly and went against all the prejudice. ... Be ready for Pain, Hate, Betrayal and a Love like no other.

I'm a mafia princess with crippling social anxiety. My fiancé, Rocco Falcone, is our family's consigliere. He’s the exact opposite of me—extroverted, effortlessly charming, a master at reading and bending people. He's supposed to be my protector. My only link to the outside world. Tonight was the charity gala for my late mother. I was hiding in the darkest corner, a mask covering my face. Rocco was supposed to give the speech. My speech. He never showed. [Emergency. Sorry. Skip the speech, I know you hate the attention. Driver will take you home after the auction. Don't wait up.] Then I saw Livia’s new post. It was a picture of Rocco, draping his suit jacket over her shoulders. He was looking down at her, his eyes full of a tenderness he never showed me. The caption was a gut punch: [No prom date, so my big bro saved the day! Couldn't have done it without him! ] The cold hit me. Bone deep. He ditched a memorial for my dead mother... to take his stepsister to a university dance? The guests began whispering and sneering that I, the famously awkward, socially crippled princess, couldn’t even force a word out. I stared at the whiskey I’d ordered for him. The ice in my glass was melting. Just like the hope in my heart. When I got back to our empty penthouse, my screen was lit up with missed calls and texts from Rocco. The last one came in thirty minutes ago: [Aurelia, trouble at Livia's prom. You know how she gets. Couldn't leave her. Your mother's gala means everything. I'll make it up to you, I promise. Next time will be perfect. Trust me.] I didn't reply. An engagement held together by "next time." Was a promise like that even worth keeping?

Richard Montague, a rich heir in Durmask, has just posted a new tweet on Twitter. The accompanying photo features a luxurious winery. The caption reads, "My wife loves this place a lot, so I bought it immediately." I tap on the photo, soon realizing that this is Amie Winery, the same place that I had briefly mentioned to Richard last week. Then, I recall the fact that he has told me that he's prepared a surprise anniversary gift for me in a mysterious tone. So, this winery must be the gift! With a wide smile on my face, I respond to his tweet in the comment section. But three minutes later, Kiara York, a popular celebrity from the same company that I'm in, quickly proclaims her love for Richard on the Internet. "Wow, my husband is so generous! I'm very satisfied with this gift!" All the onlookers and fans begin shipping Kiara and Richard like mad overnight. "What a sweet relationship! As expected of the rich heir in Durmask! Even the way he announces his relationship is very domineering!" The whole turn of events leaves me feeling stunned. Once I realize that Kiara is just trying to ride on the coattails of Richard's popularity, I quickly post a picture of my marriage certificate online. It comes with a caption. "If she's the legitimate wife, then who am I?" But Kiara soon posts a marriage certificate of her own. To my surprise, there's a photo attached to the certificate. Richard's face is shown in the photo. Kiara mocks me, "There's a limit to being a lunatic fangirl, you know! Rick and I are husband and wife by law! You can't just slap a Photoshopped picture here and pretend that he's your husband!" As I stare at both copies of the marriage certificates, which show the courthouse's stamp, I fall in deep contemplation. Then, I look at the place Kiara tagged on her Twitter comment. Finally, I can't resist calling Richard, who's currently overseas. "How dare you engage in bigamy behind my back!"

Anibersaryo ng kasal namin nang mag-post ang high school sweetheart ng asawa ko ng sonogram picture sa kanyang social media, na may caption na public thank-you sa asawa ko: [Salamat sa lalaking nandiyan para sa akin sa loob ng sampung taon, at sa pagbibigay sa akin ng anak.] Umikot ang kwarto, at namuo ang galit sa akin habang mabilis akong nagkomento: [So, proud ka sa pagiging homewrecker?] Halos kaagad, tumawag ang asawa ko, puno ng galit ang boses. "Paano mo nagawa na mag isip ng nakakasuklam na bagay? Ang ginawa ko lang ay tulungan siya sa IVF, natupad ang pangarap niyang maging single mom.” "At oo nga pala, kailangan lang ni Ruby ng isang subok para mabuntis, habang ikaw ay may tatlong round ng walang resulta. Walang kwenta ang katawan mo!" Tatlong araw lang ang nakalipas, sinabi niya sa akin na pupunta siya sa ibang bansa para sa negosyo—hindi pinapansin ang aking mga tawag at mensahe sa buong panahon. Akala ko busy lang siya. Gayunpaman, sa huli ay kasama niya pala si Ruby, dumadalo sa prenatal checkup nito. Makalipas ang kalahating oras, muling nag-post si Ruby, na ipinakita ang isang mesa na puno ng masasarap na pagkain. [Nagsawa ako sa French food, kaya ginawa ni Ash ang lahat ng paborito kong pagkain. The best talaga siya!] Napatitig ako sa pregnancy test sa kamay ko, ang saya na naramdaman ko kanina, ngayon ay tuluyan ng nawala. Matapos ang walong taong pag-ibig at anim na taon ng paglunok ng aking pride para lang manatiling buhay ang kasal, sa wakas ay handa na akong bumitaw.

“If you leave this palace tonight, you become prey” Lyra Vale got rejected by her fated mate like yesterday’s trash, hauled into enemy land, and turned into the single most lethal prize a blood-soaked kingdom has ever drooled over. In Dravenhold they don’t chain prisoners. They drape them in silk that costs more than most packs see in a lifetime and call them queen. Kael Draven, the Enemy King, had every reason to slit her throat the second she hit his dirt. Instead he put his mouth to her ear and claimed her protection. Claimed her. Now the whole damn continent whispers the same filthy truth: her blood can make kings. Or drown them. The past won’t stay buried. Rowan, the Alpha who ripped her heart out to “save his people,” creeps back through the shadows with one desperate, cocky demand: come back to me. Stay here and she becomes Kael’s living blade, soaked in power and whatever else he decides to take from her body. Leave, and she lights the match that turns every pack into smoking graves. One man wants her soul to rule with. The other already shattered it and still thinks he deserves the pieces. Lyra’s done being the girl who waits to be chosen. In a world where power gets ripped out of throats, not politely handed over… she isn’t prey anymore. She’s the f*cking throne. And she’s deciding who bleeds for the right to sit on it.

Just as she’s starting her new life in Las Vegas, she gets an urgent call to return home to Atlanta. Deila Barbson could be stubborn, witty…among other things but she wasn’t the rogue her family thought her to be so she answered with equal urgency oblivious to what awaited her— her past. She’s faced with the person that’s haunted her beautiful nightmares everyday for two years. Betrayed by her heart, she found herself running again from whom she still longed for as the very air she breaths. Breathing was as difficult as commitments. Would she stand unbroken or she melt under his touch? Time they said healed every wound so why did his heart still bleed at the sight of the woman that left him shattered sixteen months ago? Hard-headed as he was, James Martin felt open as if it were yesterday he got stood up on his planned proposal dinner. He wanted answers, from her, from himself; why didn’t he feel anger towards her for breaking his heart? Why was his heart still thudding with hope at the sight of her? Why did Deila still unman him as if he wasn’t the macho CEO that intimidated even the Mayor? And most importantly, why did she return? Behind the unwilling woman and broken man was the dark secret both their families shared. What would be keeping them apart? Their ego? Or the family secret? Warning: This book contains mature words and sexual encounters that aren't suitable for readers under the age of 18.

“Please just kill me. Please.." with tears in my eyes I begged for my own death. I am not one to have suicidal thoughts but I could no longer bear the humiliating torture I was being subjected to any more. However my abductor smiled at my pain and suffering with joy. “You will surely meet your end but it will be when I decide your pu"*y is no longer of use to me and my men. But don't think that's the only terrible thing I can do to you. So you better apologize to me and my honored guest before I allow the dogs and horses to also get a taste of you too and make no mistake it's not going to be pleasant at all," he said wickedly and I felt so humiliated.. How did my life end up this way? Physically assaulted, starved, molested and made naked; being offered as an object of pleasure to his uncharacteristically attractive but intimidating guest? I used to have a perfect life. A family who cares for me and a man who loves and cherishes me. He only just proposed to me yesterday and I have been dreaming of raising a happy family with him. So where did it go wrong? Oh, I remember now. I was stabbed in the back by the person I love and trusted the most. I didn't know she has always been envious and jealous of my happiness. My best friend Gloria, she betrayed me and sold me out to a gang of ruthless thugs to be violated and murdered. However when it seemed all hope was lost the person I least expect to help me would be my savior.

On our third wedding anniversary, I brought a gift to my husband’s office. Walking past the secretary's suite, I stopped dead. A king-size bed had been set up inside. A young woman in a designer dress was sprawled across it, a handheld game console in her hands, surrounded by imported snacks of every variety. "Kevin, the lunch you ordered yesterday was pre-packaged meals. Marcus and I both felt sick after eating it. Today, make sure it's from The Palace Hotel." Kevin -- my husband's personal assistant -- bowed and scraped before her, his face a mask of obsequious flattery. "Mrs. Thorne, please don't worry. Mr. Thorne made it very clear -- everything should be tailored to your preferences and the baby's. He knows you love the chef at The Palace Hotel, so he set up a standing VIP account for you. Anything you want, anytime." She was Mrs. Thorne? Then what exactly was I? My brow furrowed. I glanced down at the wedding ring I'd worn for years. The girl beamed, radiant. "For the baby's arrival, my husband is throwing a lavish yacht party. Every important person in New York is getting an invitation. I want the whole world to know that I'm the love of his life, and that our son will be blessed by the most powerful people before he's even born. The champagne and flowers must be the finest available -- no budget limit. Our child is going to have the best of everything from day one." I stared at the gentle swell of her belly and called my father. "Dad, that divorce agreement you drew up three years ago -- you can have the lawyers send it over now."