Bartender Cheat Sheet Pdf Novels & Stories

“It’s all right, Don Moretti. Go take care of your other child.” My six-year-old son raised one small hand and waved goodbye to his father. Matteo froze. For twenty-eight days, I had been teaching Luca to call him Don Moretti instead of Papa. It started the night Luca was burning with fever. Bianca Bellini sent word that her son was crying for Matteo, and my husband left our sick child without looking back. I held Luca against my chest and whispered, “Say goodnight to Don Moretti.” A week later, Matteo promised to attend Luca’s school presentation. Bianca sent for him again. Tommy had no father to sit beside him, she said. The other boys would laugh. Matteo went. I placed a sheet of paper in front of Luca and handed him a pen. “Write to your teacher,” I said. “Tell her Don Moretti will not be coming.” Every time Luca used the title, he hesitated. Sometimes the words took so long to leave his mouth that I nearly told him he could still call Matteo Papa. Then came the Moretti succession dinner. Matteo had promised to present Luca before every capo and elder, name him as his chosen heir, and give him a permanent seat at the Moretti table. Luca counted the days for two weeks. But outside the estate, Bianca’s driver stopped us with another message. Tommy was crying because the other children said he had no father. Pity crossed Matteo’s face. Before he could explain, Luca waved goodbye. “It’s all right, Don Moretti. Go take care of your other child.” Then he slipped his hand into mine. “Mom and I don’t need a seat at the Moretti table anymore.”

Before anything else could happen, I stood up from squatting in front of him and walked toward my work table. My hands were shaking, but I tried not to show it. "Now you have time to listen to my proposal," I said firmly, trying to sound confident even though my heart was racing. I picked up the document I had placed there earlier—a simple sheet of paper, but one that could change everything. I held it up for him to see. Yes, kidnapping him had been desperate. But what I was about to offer? Even more so. "You just have to sign this marriage contract," I told him. "If we get married, I can claim my inheritance, solve my problem, and then we’ll let you go." He raised an eyebrow, amused. “And what’s in it for me? I don’t gain anything here. Why should I let you manipulate my life like that?” I clenched my fists. "You’re my hostage! Your freedom depends on me. You have no choice but to do what I say!" I snapped, voice rising with frustration. As soon as I said it, regret washed over me. I sounded like a child throwing a tantrum, and I saw it in his eyes—disappointment. Disgust. “I already have a fiancée, Kourtney. We’re getting married soon. I can’t marry you,” he said with finality. Of course I knew. I knew everything about him. I kept tabs on his life not because I wanted to, but because I had to. “I love her,” he continued. “And if I ever get married, it’s going to be with the woman I love. That’s Kim.” I bit my lower lip to stop the trembling. I was humiliated… but worse, I was heartbroken.

My physics teacher held up my test paper with an 18-point score in front of all the students and parents and said, “Students like this are hopeless. I don’t even know how someone like this passed the high school entrance exam. “I didn’t think there was a way to cheat on the high school entrance exam, but it turns out there is. It gives people like this a chance to cheat.” He did not just insult my intelligence but also questioned my character and family. “Well, it’s not surprising. Only a junk-collecting family could raise a kid like this.” I curled up in my seat, too scared to say anything. But my stepmom could not stand it anymore. She smacked the chalk box off his desk, pointed at him, and yelled, “Who do you think you’re talking about?! “I send my kid to school and pay all the tuition and book fees! How did it turn into us being a junk-collecting family?! “You can’t even teach properly, and I haven’t called you out for it! Have you no shame?! You don’t deserve to be called a teacher! You’re just a piece of trash!” For some reason, she suddenly seemed imposing and heroic to me.

I am in the middle of hosting an international conference when my younger sister, Aubrey Keller, suddenly calls me. She is sobbing over the phone as she says, "Aster, my spot in the student exchange program was taken away…" I immediately rush over to Aubrey's university campus. She's cornered in the teachers' office, her eyes brimming with tears. A young girl with punk flair is standing in front of Aubrey, gesturing at her with disdain. "Trying to fight for the spot against me, are you? I'm the heiress to the Keaton family in Centuria. "My father even funded an entire laboratory building for the university! Who do you think you are?" A teacher standing to the side is also adding fuel to the fire. "Aubrey, Ophelia's father is one of this university's key funders. Why don't you just let this go this time so we can all move on?" I'm about to rebuke the two when I hear the phrase 'heiress to the Keaton family.' Keaton family from Centuria? Since when did my father, Tristan Keaton, have another daughter besides Aubrey and me? I immediately call Tristan's number and ask coldly, "Dad, when did you cheat on Mom and sire another daughter behind her back?"

I had been married for five years, but my belly remained flat—no sign of a child. Then, on my 35th birthday, I suddenly found out I was pregnant. When I shared the good news with my husband, he flew into a rage. Instead of being happy, he accused me of carrying someone else's baby. Only then did I learn he had a mistress. He even claimed he wanted a "real" child—one that truly belonged to him—with her. I thought he was just being irrational and would eventually come to his senses. After getting an amniocentesis, I immediately brought him the paternity test results to prove the baby was his. He came home acting like a changed man—hugging me, kissing me, claiming that he didn't cheat on me. The very next day, he booked a hotel and threw a banquet, announcing to all our friends and family that he was going to be a father. However, when his mistress saw the news, she completely lost it. She showed up with a group of people, blocked me in the street, and—despite my pregnancy—started punching and kicking me. "You shameless woman! How dare you carry my man's child? Are you that desperate to die?"

Mira had received an unexpected message from her husband to meet him at a hotel so they could rekindle their love, which she was happy about, but somehow she ended up in another stranger's bed, leading her to cheat on her husband. Mira goes back home to meet a divorce, and not only that, but she also discovers her husband has been cheating on her with her step-sister, and they both tricked her into signing her inheritance over to them. She was humiliated and thrown out of the house only for her to be saved, but her savior turned out to be the man she had a nightstand with, and he was proposing to her a contract marriage and a chance to get revenge on all those who hurt her. Should she accept it? Could she trust him? 5 years later, she returned to New York City with her little Triplets kids for some business deals and to finish all that her ex-husband started. EXCEPT. "What the were you doing with my brother you !" Ken yells, fury obvious through his orbs as he clenches his hand into a fist, veins almost bulging out of his forehead. "Isn't it obvious?" I throw back his question, my lips curling into a smile. "Dear Ex-husband, Why Don't You Call Me Sister-in-law?"

I was the perfect wife. The Senator’s daughter. The woman who smiled while her world burned. For three years, I played the part. I ignored the lipstick on my husband’s collar, the late nights, and the cold indifference. I accepted the "open marriage" I never asked for, just to keep the peace. But peace is a lie. And tonight, I’m done playing by the rules. One night of rebellion at the city’s most exclusive underground club was supposed to be my escape. Instead, it was a collision course with the past. The Mercer Brothers. Silas, the ruthless king. Dante, the violent enforcer. Julian, the beautiful psychopath. They were my brother’s best friends. The men who warned me to stay away. The monsters who run this city from the shadows. Six years ago, they told me to run. Tonight, they blocked the exit. I thought the night couldn't get worse—until I went home and found out the truth. My husband didn't just cheat on me. He gambled me away. He owes the Mercers millions, and he just offered me as the collateral. Now, I belong to them. They say they want to protect me. They say they want to ruin me for anyone else. Silas commands. Dante breaks. Julian corrupts. I thought I was walking into a prison, but as the walls close in, I realize the terrifying truth: I’m not the victim in this story. I’m the weapon they’ve been waiting for.

“I’m confused,” Jane said. “Actually I’m very confused.” Tristan gave her a bored look, “About what?” “What just happened upstairs? Did you forget that you just told your mother- I mean Your Highness that we are dating? Because the last time I checked, we spent one night together?! Are you crazy?” “It’s really not that complicated,” Tristan turned towards her, a determined look in his eyes. “We will date for a while. I mean fake date for a while so that my mother and the media can get off our back. No big deal. It’s not like you have a boyfriend or anything. Why are you worried?” Jane wanted to kill him and wipe that lazy smirk off his face. But he was royalty, and she would pretty much be hung for that. It was not worth it. *** Jane Rosetti is an exchange medical student in Walsh, new to almost everything. To pay off her student loans, she’s working as a bartender in a high-end club “Floral Liquor”, where she meets Tristan. At first, she’s incredibly taken by his good looks and thick accent. She has no idea about his real identity, which doesn’t matter as they end up in bed together. Prince Tristan of Walsh has finally returned to his hometown after two years. As he’s been very secretive, everyone wants exclusive about him. So when he’s exiting Jane’s apartment, he’s captured with her panties stuck on to his sleeve. Both of them are photographer together, and that’s when Jane’s troubles start. Right after her one night with the Prince. ***

“I want blood,” Rowan said, and suddenly his fingers pierced deep into my chest. The feeling of pain was almost non-existent but I could feel life slipping away from me. Blood gurgled in my mouth and it flowed from the corner of my mouth. “Why Rowan?” I asked, but the answer to the question became even more obvious to me. My face was poise, graceful even at the face of death. “Why did you do this? Why did you betray me?” I asked him, my hands reaching up to cup his face and he leaned into my hand, snuggling his face. Then affectionately, like he hadn't just betrayed me, he leaned down to kiss my lips. “I love you, my queen, but I'm tired of your benevolent rule, tired of drinking that disgusting artificial blood. I want a killing spree, I want suck my fangs into human's warm blood vessels! Slave them!” Rowan said, his face suddenly tainted with anger, one that also left as quickly as it came. “I'm surprised you think you would succeed,” I said, trying to laugh but it only made the blood flow faster. I was getting drained of blood really quickly. “You won't succeed,” I said, laughing disdainfully, “I will take revenge on you, tear you to pieces!” Rowan grinned, saying mockingly, “I look forward to your return, your majesty!” As soon as his words fell off his mouth, his arm swiftly and accurately pierced my chest, precisely digging out my heart. Blooms of blood appeared on the bed sheet, like some kind of cruel artwork. “Moon Goddess, please give me a chance to be reborn!” I silently pleaded, just before my heart was harvested. At this moment, the dazzling full moon suddenly emitted a blinding white light.

Slippery Cravings In the shadows of glittering cities and private sanctuaries of sin, desire doesn’t whisper — it devours. Slippery Cravings is a scorching collection of ultra-intense erotic tales where powerful, dominant men take complete control and willing women surrender everything in raw, unapologetic pleasure. From a seductive stranger in Montreal who edges a beautiful tourist against rain-streaked glass until she’s begging and shaking… to a forbidden onsen in Hakone where a mysterious Japanese master uses crimson Shibari rope to bind and torment an expat until she squirts violently across the steaming deck… to a rain-lashed Chicago penthouse where a ruthless billionaire keeps a bartender helplessly bound while he wrings multiple shattering orgasms from her helpless body… to a scorching Vegas pool villa where a billionaire developer ties a dazzling dancer to the railing and pushes her beyond every limit under the neon desert sky. Each story is drenched in exquisite sensory detail — the cool kiss of glass against fevered skin, the rough bite of rope, the thick scent of arousal mingling with steam, rain, and night jasmine. Extended, merciless edging sessions build unbearable tension until explosive, vision-blanking climaxes rip through bound, trembling bodies in powerful, gushing waves. Raw dirty talk, total power exchange, Shibari bondage, and intense post-orgasm dominance push every boundary. These women don’t just submit — they break beautifully, sobbing, thanking, and begging for more as they are claimed, used, and ruined in the most delicious ways. No limits. No fade-to-black. Only wet, relentless lust, exquisite torment, and shattering release. For readers who crave dark, immersive erotica that leaves you breathless, soaked, and aching — Slippery Cravings is your new addiction.