Bedside Table Attached To Bed

Ugly, disguising, repulsing and plain were only a few 'compliments' Adana was accustomed to. Finally deciding she had had enough, she works hard to get the perfect revenge body she wanted and the table seemed to have flipped on her past enemies. The Richard twins. The perfect pair of polar opposite, move to Lakeland falls after escaping a possible death threat. What happens when they both seem pulled towards the melanin goddess in form of Adana Spindly.

I had a one night stand with the self-proclaimed businessman of Manhattan, New York. I have told myself it can't happen again, it just can't. I get to attached and scare them off, I want him, I can't get my mind off him, and according to him I can't get out of his. I get a letter from him and find out he still has his eye on me. Will he give me what I need? Am I what he needs? What will come of this? I guess I got nothing to lose, yet.

I stretched lazily on the bed, much like a contented kitten, before opening my eyes. Hovering above me was a face that could have been sculpted by the gods—a handsome, well-defined face with sun-kissed golden eyes. My first groggy thought was that Cara had finally brought home a decent, well-groomed man for a change. But…. Why is he in my room? I abruptly shoved him away, ending the spell. "Get off your asshole!" With a scowl on my face, I got up quickly. “Was personal space not mentioned by Clara, huh?” I spoke in an irritated tone. “Clara?” He turned and casually picked up some papers from a nearby table, settling down with an annoying smile. “And who might that be, if I may ask?” He doesn’t even remember her? Asshole “Well, if you must know, Clara—” I started, but my words faltered as something shiny caught my eye. What is..? Then my memories began to flood back. —it’s a damn golden sofa. Shit. Brain Freeze. ~~~ Growing up as the oldest kid on a Chicago farm was no picnic for Mary Johnson. Her folks, good ol' Mr. and Mrs. Becky Johnson, were salt-of-the-earth types, who worked hard on their small farm not far from the gritty backstreets of Chicago. They taught Mary and her siblings the value of hard work, self-value. But as much as Mary loved her family, she dreamed big, but those dreams took a backseat when she needed to step up and help support her family. Then, out of the blue, fate threw her a curveball. A chance in the US came knocking, and Mary didn't hesitate. And then she crossed paths with the Blacks – New York’s high society, dripping with wealth and power, who offered her a deal she couldn’t refuse.

I never meant for this to happen, But a dream can change your point of view on everything. One night, one dream about a forbidden love and all bets were off. I tried to stay away, but the long looks he gave me from across the room went unnoticed by everyone but me. I tried to put distance between us, but it’s hard when the object of your desire sits at your family dinner table once a week.

My boyfriend, Simon Hepworth, gets down on one knee for the 66th time. Moved by his persistence, I finally say yes. But on the eve of our wedding, he drops a bombshell on me. He tells me he wants to have a child with his stepsister, Fiona Hepworth. I find it ridiculous and get into a huge fight with him. But I never could've imagined what would come next. On our wedding day, I wait at the altar for three hours, bouquet in my hands, only for him to dismissively tell me that the wedding is postponed. All because he and Fiona have an IVF appointment that very day. "Fiona was abused by her father growing up. She'll never be able to marry," he explains. "I just want to help her fulfill her dream of being a mother. It's just IVF. It's not like we're actually sleeping together. Stop being so sensitive." He then hangs up, leaving me alone at the wedding under the gaze of countless guests and flashing media cameras. The shock sends my father into the ICU. Standing by his bedside, I make a vow. "Dad, you were right. I won't marry Simon. Next week, I'll come home and take over the family business."

"Here are the leftovers for you, hurry up and finish them!" Marcel glanced at the plates filled with scattered rice, chicken bones with a little meat still attached, and vegetable soup with only the soup left. "Eat on the floor, as usual." Marcel looked down and looked at his wife, Shirley. "You have the nerve to tell me to finish your brothers' leftovers?" asked Marcel in a protesting tone, as he frowned reluctantly at the plates. The oppression Marcel experienced made him want to end his life by downing his parents' formula. However, instead of dying, he was transformed into a powerful being! Will his wife's family apologize?

My wife, Caroline Bailey, was a forensic pathologist. For her first love, Ian Lawson, she was willing to break every rule she held sacred and allowed him into the autopsy room to observe. She even let him throw acid onto a corpse's face. That was, until Caroline took on a new case. As she stood over the disfigured body on her operating table, she began to fall apart. The acid-burned face was starting to look more and more like mine.

At the company's celebration dinner, the new HR guy slapped a bill on the table—$860 for A/C and venue costs from our last all-nighter. I shot a look at Sherry—my girlfriend, my boss—thinking she'd have my back. Nope. She latched onto HR's arm and said, "Quentin, this isn't your daddy's company. Quit freeloading." And just like that, nine years of busting my ass for this company, and turns out—I was the discount item on the menu.

After Mom passed, it was just me and Dad, depending on each other. I’ve always had poor health, and people used to taunt me, calling me a “sickly, doomed child.” He kneeled by my bedside, making a promise. “I swear, I’ll get you the best treatment, no matter what. You’ll never suffer again!” Eventually, he became a powerful CEO, going so far as to buy an entire private villa just so I could recover in peace. However, his assistant assumed I was his mistress.  She came in with a group of security guards and surrounded me. “So, you’re the cripple who’s been seducing Mr. Johnson?” “Let’s see if you can still act high and mighty after I’m done with you!” She kicked over my wheelchair, yanked me by the hair, scratched up my face, and finally cut off my hand. Barely clinging to life, I lay there until Dad came back. She held up my severed hand, presenting it to him. “Mr. Johnson, this was a spy sent by a rival company. I took care of her for you.”

She was sent to kill. Instead, she might be the one destined to end it all. Lea, a top-tier assassin for the secretive High Table, has never missed a mark—until now. What was supposed to be a routine mission turns into a long-term “quest” in the quiet town of Mystique Gore, assisting a cold, commanding man in a mansion older than memory. Strange? Yes. Dangerous? Definitely. But what’s worse? The mission wasn’t for a target... it was for *her*. Marked by a power she doesn’t understand and haunted by dreams that aren’t hers, Lea finds herself entangled in a world she never believed existed—one ruled by vampires, witches, and werewolves hiding in plain sight. And at the center of it all is Ivan, the enigmatic master of the house who knows more than he says... and watches her like she’s already his. As her assassin instincts clash with ancient prophecies, forbidden truths, and a mark that binds her fate to something much bigger, Lea must uncover why the High Table sent her here—and why the supernatural world is afraid of *her*. They say she’s the beginning. They say she’s the end. They say she must die to keep the peace. But Lea doesn’t take orders. She gives them.