Beyblade Performance Tip

On my wedding day, my fiancé and my younger sister Rachel were caught doing the dirty in the private lounge. I immediately became a laughing stock, until my childhood friend Jason Law publicly proposed to me, defending my honor. After we got married, he was the perfect husband… except for his performance in the bedroom. It was like his heart was never in it. I only managed to get pregnant after going for IVF this year. After that, he became even more protective of me. I once believed he was my sanctuary… until I overheard his conversation with his friend. “You’re ruthless, Jason. Nina’s so good to you. How could you swap out her egg with Rachel’s just because Rachel is too afraid of the pain to give birth? “The baby’s due in two months. What do you plan to do then?” Jason was silent for a bit, then he sighed. “I’ll give Rachel the baby once it’s born. It’s one of her greatest wishes, after all. “As for Nina, I’ll tell her the baby died. “I’ll make it up to her by staying with her for the rest of her life.” So that was how it was. He only protected me so gently for her sake. I turned around and immediately made a surgery appointment. I was throwing away this filthy baby… and this false marriage.

For someone who was rude and cunning, it surprised me how he could be soft when it came to kissing. He placed soft kisses at the corners of my lips and held my face in his warm hands as his fingers tangled in the hair above my ears, tugging my ponytail and messing with my hair. His brown eyes filled my vision, hard and intense, a direct contradiction to his hot, sensual mouth. The tip of his tongue touched the seam of my lips, and my breath caught in my throat. I could feel a jolt clear in the soles of my feet, a warm tingling that curled my toes and settled in the pit of my stomach. The kiss was tender, almost sweet, and I fought to keep my eyes open and pressed my lips tight. I fought to remind myself that the lips brushing mine, as if he were my lover, belonged to an egomaniac asshole who told lies and swore to make my life miserable. When your bully becomes your knight in the shining armor, what would you do? Book 2 of Autumn Summers Series. Can be read as a stand-alone. ******* Book 1: The Bad Nerd Boy (Completed, exclusively on Goodnovel) Book 3: Pulling Off The Impossible (on-going)

He fell in love with the girl he had a one-night stand with. When her true nature revealed, he hated himself for loving her and decided never to see her again. However, his fate took an unexpected turn and entangled him in a contract marriage with her, turning the girl he despised into his temporary wife. Will their love-hate relationship lead to a deeper connection, or will it keep them forever bound by the terms of their contract? * “Stand up and bend over the bench.” I comply with his orders. “Are you yearning for me, Wifey?” “Yes. I want to feel you deep inside me.” “But do you deserve it?” He taps his hardness on my wetness. “Just f**k me, Steve.” “Seriously, you think I’ll listen to you after what you did today?” He asks, rubbing my with his thumbs agonisingly slow. As I grind myself against his hand, he tugs at my hair, pulling my head back. “Stay still if you don’t want me to spank your little this time. Understand?” “Yes.” “Good.” He pulls my hair and jabs deep into me without a warning. “You’re my wife.” He pulls out, but his tip remains inside me before thrusting himself into me again. “You belong to me”

Frieda Enriquez lives in a golden cage. As the perfect, silent wife to billionaire CEO Michael C. Van Leer, her life is a performance of flawless elegance, built on a mountain of secrets and the crushing debt that cost her everything. She gave Michael her body and her name, and in return, he gives her silence and control. But when Michael suffers a severe accident, the cold, loveless marriage is replaced by a chilling new demand. To maintain the illusion of their perfect union, Michael brings in two ruthless, identical associates—the Heaton twins—and forces Frieda into a twisted, shared submission. Now, her body is a battleground. Garrett, the gentle twin, offers a desperate, silent promise of protection, igniting an instant connection that feels dangerously like true love. Alvin, the violent twin, is a monster from her childhood, brought back by Michael to inflict private terror. As Michael watches his cruel game unfold, Frieda realizes the accident was a lie, the divorce is impossible, and the cage is closing tighter. When her own sister, Serena, arrives as Michael's mistress, the last thread of hope snaps. They wanted a submissive wife. They created an enemy. How do you fight a man who owns your name, your past, and now, the dark secret of your first and truest love? Read Trapped In My Husband’s Golden Cage and watch the perfect corporate wife become the most feared woman alive.

Every Thanksgiving, my husband, Salvatore, brings home a showgirl from one of his clubs. He makes me kneel and serve them drinks. A lesson, he calls it, in how to please a man. This was the eighth Thanksgiving, and this time, he brought back a girl poured into a tight leather dress. "She doesn't have any decent jewelry," Salvatore announced. "Give her your heirloom diamond ring. Your grandmother's pearl earrings, too. And take off that silk choker for her." He smirked. "And listen, she's young, doesn't know the rules. You'll have to show her the ropes. Especially how to handle a man in bed." Every member of the Genovese family was watching, waiting for my humiliation. I didn't disappoint. I opened my mouth and asked Salvatore for a divorce. Salvatore let out a sharp, ugly laugh, his eyes full of contempt. "Francesca, you pull this same shit every time," he jeered. "Your act is pathetic. Even more dramatic than your performance in bed." He leaned in. "You really want to divorce me? Fine. I'll give you five million in cash if you actually walk out that door." The living room erupted in laughter. They all said I was playing hard to get, that I didn't know my place. But they didn't know. This was the 88th time I had asked for a divorce, and it was the first time I truly meant it.

◤─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────◥ "Life is neither short nor long, it's now - that we know as life - it's twisted and cruel I'm its own way with trials coming up with every turn you make. No one knows how many seconds one will live let alone years. You never know" ◣─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────◢ His breath got stuck in his throat as he held the pen above the paper, his eyes searching the room in hopes of having at least a glance of her face. "Answer the maulvi" his father spoke. "Son" his mother pestered from his side. His eyes landed on Hiba's expectant ones. She looked from across the veil questioning his delay. He shook his head as he placed the tip of the pen on the paper, a single stroke formed on the paper but that very moment a frantic Ayan ran in the room. "Turn on the tv right now" he yelled making Hamza to oblige right away. "There had been an accident on the motorway car LEB-780 has been hit by a troller on its way out of the city, the hit has caused an explosion rendering the passengers severely injured and in critical condition-" "That's- that's the car maula bakhsh took to drop—" His ears numbed as the pen dropped on the floor, his heart stopped, his eyes stuck on the TV screen. "Bhai!" He ran out of the house and got in his car, the engine roared and soon he was on the road. ─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

On my way to the interview, my best friend—who had always warned me not to meddle in other people’s business—suddenly rushed toward the crashed luxury car without hesitation. That was when I knew she had been reborn too. In our previous life, she and I were known as the two top aces of the Finance Department. After graduation, we both made it to the final interview at one of the world’s top five hundred companies. On the day of that interview, we encountered a terrible car accident. The company’s president was inside the wreck. I gave up the interview to save him, while my friend ran straight to the interview without looking back. In the end, she got the offer, and I lost my chance at the prestigious firm. Everyone pitied me. However, the president held a grand wedding to repay me. I became the wife of my friend’s boss. I was admired and envied by all. She, on the other hand, struggled under endless performance targets. She got buried by work. At the company’s annual gala, I stood beside the president, dazzling under the lights, while she faded into the crowd—exhausted and invisible. Jealousy drove her mad. She grabbed a knife and stabbed me right there at the gala. When I opened my eyes again, she and I had both returned to the day of the president’s car accident.

I was at the Blood Registry office to reissue my Blood Covenant Certificate with Lord Ethan when the registrar looked up at me and said, “Your Blood Covenant Certificate is forged.” “There is no record of your bond in the vampire consort system.” I froze. “That’s impossible,” I whispered. “I registered my union with Lord Ethan five years ago. Please check again.” The clerk searched once more. “Lord Ethan’s record is here,” he said calmly. “His lawful consort is Ella.” Ella? The name fell like a blade. Before he said it, I still hoped it was a clerical mistake. But Ella… was his childhood companion. In that moment, everything made sense. In five years, he had never marked me. He had publicly acknowledged me as his Blood Queen, letting the entire Coven believe I stood beside him by right. He had given me titles, a throne at his side, and a crown to wear in front of the world. Titles can be announced. Only the Registry makes it law. The certificate he gave me had been nothing but a beautiful lie. The five years I believed were happiness— were nothing more than a carefully forged illusion. An illusion crafted to keep me obedient, grateful, and blind. If none of it was ever truly mine, if even the title of “Blood Queen” was only a performance, then leaving should be easy.

To scrape together my mother's surgery money, I worked myself to the bone at this company for three straight years. My performance was always number one. By myself, I supported half the sales department. Then, a newly hired HR director decided every desk needed an AI camera, claiming it was to optimize efficiency. Every blink, every breath I took was measured and calculated by the system. "Warning. Employee Nathan Gray blinked more than twenty times within one minute. Mental distraction detected. Fine: 50." "Warning. Employee Nathan Gray took 3.5 seconds to drink water, exceeding the standard by 1.5 seconds. Slacking detected. Fine: 100." "Warning. Employee Nathan Gray's mouth corners drooped for over thirty seconds. Suspected spread of negative emotion. Fine: 200." The most ridiculous part was the way he stood in front of the entire department, pointing proudly at my data on the giant screen. "See that?" he said smugly. "This is the power of technology. In front of AI, you lazy freeloaders have nowhere to hide. Nathan, your bonus for this month has already been wiped out by the system. If you don't like it, get lost. Plenty of people are lining up to take your place." What he didn't know was that the AI system he trusted so blindly had its core code written by me. Tonight, I was going to show him what happened when he angered the one who built the machine.

On the night the family manor was set on fire, my husband Don Luciano Cacciola whisked Loretta Peri away. "Be a good girl and wait for me here, Tati. I'll send my men over to pick you up soon." As soon as he left, the explosions buried around the villa were set off instantly. That's when I sent Luciano one last text. "Luciano, we're even now." Rumors had it that Luciano had gone mad after that incident. As he gripped the burned ring, he purged the entire mafia family on his own. After that, he kneeled before my grave for three long days. When Luciano found out that there was a possibility of my surviving the explosion, he decided to give away half of his family fortune just so he could track me down. Three years later, Luciano stares at the woman, who's toying with a pistol, with red-rimmed eyes at the family's negotiation table. "Tati… Is that you?" I pull the trigger in response, causing a bullet to ricochet past Luciano's ear. "You got the wrong person, Mr. Cacciola. I'm here to take your life." As I watch Luciano kneel by my feet and press a kiss onto the tip of my high heel, I can't help but laugh. This time, it's my turn to choose.