Backroom Casting Couch Michelle Novels & Stories

Hello, I'm Rose. I thought my life was perfect with my husband Luke, until I came home from a trip to find the truth. I couldn't reach him because my phone had been lost. But finding his second phone on the couch , that was an opportunity to call my friend and informed her that I am back. I dialed her number, that's when I saw it. Sophia's name came up as "Honey," and the texts between them broke everything. Luke wasn't in love with me. He married me because of my father's business connections. "Once I get what I want from her father, I'll divorce her," he wrote. My heart was shattered, and I couldn't believe my eyes as Luke and Sophia entered the house together, looking like lovers. A marriage based on a lie, what choice is there? Find Out!

She watched as he settled on the black couch while she stood a few meters away from him, with her luggage right beside her.  Her gaze lowered to the floor as her eyes met with his stiffened, icy face which wore a demeaning look that sent shrills all over her body.  Her heart palpitated with fear as she became overwhelmed by the thoughts of being strangled tonight by her newly wedded husband who was sitting right in front of her.   She had heard him rumored to be ruthless, arrogant and hostile just like his father.   After the collapse of his marriage with a billionaire's daughter whom he had tried to murder, he became feared by many, and every lady would see it as a death sentence to be married to him.  But here she was, the daughter of a peasant farmer, married to the ruthless Billionaire's son. How did she get here?  Her name is Alex, and this is her story with ADRIAN STEEL, SON OF THE RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE

Zacharias Goldman's second-in-command was a young and beautiful Beta. His friends, thinking he had never done anything to the Beta, often laughed at his incompetence. "She's a cute female. Are you sure you can hold it back?" Zacharias leaned into the back of the couch lazily. His voice was oozing with nonchalance. "I can't. She's… delicious." That shocked the crowd. Mikhail Crosswing, his best friend, whistled. "And I thought you were loyal to the end. Loyal to Lucilla. She's going to raise hell if she finds out." Zacharias chortled. "Ah, yes, she can be a headache when she does that. That's why you boys need to cover for me. The bonding ceremony is in three days. I don't want anything to go wrong." The boys cackled and promised they would keep their mouths sealed. I was standing right outside the door. I heard everything, but all I did was leave in silence. The mate ring was still in my hand, but the bonding ceremony was not going to happen.

One accident led to An Xin waking up in the body of her best friend. The once domineering Miss An was now suddenly the gentle Madam Ye, but this does not mean that she is without thorns. The first thing to solve, is this cold and unapproachable husband of hers that makes her pity her best friend. At the same time, perhaps squeeze a pretty penny off some hustle, and save up so she can travel. Perhaps she will find a few hunks on the way and her newfound life would not be boring at all. But wait, why is the once unapproachable husband suddenly so clingy? Good sir, I am not your wife, and marrying me is impossible. Unless...you promise to spoil me for the rest of my life, love me like nothing else, and to and over all your wealth and influence, and to be content coming home to do the chores and cook for me everyday. Perhaps then, I would sit on the couch and cheer you on!

The day I married Vincent Sorrentino, Lena, the Sorrentino family’s adopted daughter, threatened to jump off the steeple of the family church. Vincent left me standing at the altar in my custom wedding gown, no hesitation, just bolted after her. With every New York crime boss, politician, and oligarch staring at me, I looked out at the crowd and said loud and clear: “Any man who walks up here right now and says ‘I do’? I’ll marry you.” Three years later, Vincent was back into the Sorrentino family’s Long Island estate, Lena on his arm. I was sitting on the leather couch in the main living room, watching my favorate TV show. Vincent’s eyes locked on my huge pregnant belly, his jaw tight, growling through his teeth: “Whose bastard is in there?” I took a sip of orange juice, curled my lip into a smile, and said: “It's a Sorrentino baby, of course.”

My boyfriend is a forensic doctor. I've been abducted and tied to a bomb—there's only ten minutes to detonation. The abductors force me to call my boyfriend, but all I get is a scolding. "What the hell do you want, Michelle? What are you playing at, using your life as an excuse just because you're jealous? "Vi's cat has already been stuck in a tree for three days. She loves it like it's her life! If you delay me from saving it, you'll be a murderer!" I hear a coquettish voice ring out on the other end of the line. "Thank you for this, Kev. You're amazing!" I recognize that voice—it belongs to my boyfriend's childhood friend. I text my boyfriend when the bomb is about to explode. "Farewell forever. I pray we won't meet each other again in another life."

The day I was reborn, I came across that anonymous post again. “My sponsor is like a sister to me, but her husband gives me butterflies. “I know it’s wrong, but I can’t stop myself from feeling this way. Yesterday, we got down and dirty on the couch she bought.” Back in my past life, this very post broke me. In a fit of rage, I exposed their filthy secret to the world. The girl I once gave my heart and soul to help succumbed to cyberbullying and took her life by jumping off a building. After the funeral, my husband, Taylor Rogue, became a devoted and gentle man, only to lock me up in a mental institution the moment I put down my walls. “You should spend the rest of your life atoning for ruining Ivy!” With three years of pills and electric shock stripping away my sanity and dignity, I climbed to the roof and leaped. When I opened my eyes, I was back to the moment everything began.

When I hear my boyfriend, Terence Bowen, is trapped in a house fire, I immediately rush back to save him. However, after dragging him out with all my strength, I realize it's just a dummy. Laughter erupts from the house next door. "Ariana Brock is such a fool! She fell for it again!" Through a half-open window, I spot Terence lounging on the couch, casually scrolling through his phone. He looks completely fine. "That's the 47th prank we've pulled on her. Three more to go and we're done." "Serves her right. She shouldn't have stolen Bethany Howard's scholarship. Bethany is the one Terence actually cares about. That's why he decided to fake a relationship with Ariana to get revenge 50 times over. Too bad the game will end soon." I bend over, gasping for air. All this time, the relationship I've worked so hard to protect is nothing but a game to them.

He was consumed by hate, while love ripped through me like a storm. We were like two thorns, trapped in a prickly embrace with no escape. We exchanged vows soaked in blood, sealed with a brutal kiss, and bound by bloodied rings, with no happily ever after on the horizon. Marco Costello, my so-called prince, shackled me as his wife, but he was no savior. I used to imagine what our life would have been like if I had said yes all those years ago instead of running away. I'd play Juliette to his brooding Romeo. But fate had a different script for me, casting me as the antagonist, trapped in a cycle of resentment and sadness, like a lost soul wandering through the shadows, unseen and unappreciated. “Till death do us part...” It wasn't a promise of forever, but a sentence to endless torment.

My boyfriend is a forensic doctor. I've been abducted and tied to a bomb—there's only ten minutes to detonation. The abductors force me to call my boyfriend, but all I get is a scolding. "What the hell do you want, Michelle? What are you playing at, using your life as an excuse just because you're jealous? "Vi's cat has already been stuck in a tree for three days. She loves it like it's her life! If you delay me from saving it, you'll be a murderer!" I hear a coquettish voice ring out on the other end of the line. "Thank you for this, Kev. You're amazing!" I recognize that voice—it belongs to my boyfriend's childhood friend. I text my boyfriend when the bomb is about to explode. "Farewell forever. I pray we won't meet each other again in another life."