Bf Holding Gf Fnf

The day of the verdict, Simon—my fiancé—begged me to take the deal. "I know you're innocent, but Nancy's pregnant. I can't let her go to jail." Tears. Fake concern. "This is for your own good," he said, holding my hand. I signed it. In my last life, I refused—and paid for it with prison, torture, and infertility. This time? I played along. By morning, headlines screamed I'd stolen trade secrets. Nancy? Front and center. "Yeah, it was her. I saw her sneak into Johnston Group with my own eyes!" But when court opened that afternoon, Clark—yes, the plaintiff—stepped up and dropped the case. Then, in front of everyone, he pulled out a ring, dropped to one knee, and said, "Heidi Wynn, this time... will you marry me?"

On our third wedding anniversary, I received a cake from my husband. It had the names Clarisse Burke and Antonio Carey written on it, along with Happy Third Anniversary. But I felt like I'd been plunged into ice. That wasn't my name. Clarisse was his secretary. Sure enough, I saw my cake in Clarisse Burke's latest post, labeled Iva Grant and Antonio Carey. [Three years, and someone's already treating me like his wife.] Below, there was a comment. [Delete that post! The cakes got mixed up. Don't let Iva find out.] That was when I realized he had planned every romantic surprise in pairs. Holding my phone, I laughed at his pathetic attempt to cover it up. But I was done. I started planning my exit.

"So, what do you think about my brilliant idea?" he continued this time, with a glimmering smile on his face. "My name is Ghino Frost, by the way. Just like you, I was betrayed and cheated by the ones I loved the most."     Ghino's proposal completely tempts me as it makes me realize the reason why I dream of someone impossible. Dylan is my best friend - the love of my life.     And it appears that my one-of-a-kind dream - holding his hands - kissing his lips - and making love with him forever stays in a dream. Dylan and I will never happen.     But I badly need anything that can distract me and survive for the night. Just for the night. "Fine," I finally spoke up after a few minutes of considering everything. "Let's do it. Let's have sex."

My son, Scott Gould, suddenly tells me that he has leukemia. Then, he goes on to say that his biggest wish is to see Ivanna Newman in a wedding dress. My husband, Theodore Gould, agrees with Scott. "I'll hold a wedding with Ivanna. Once Scott is done with his treatment, we'll get remarried." I gladly agree to the request and divorce Theodore. Not long after, I learn from Scott's social media that he's attending the wedding of Theodore and his childhood sweetheart, Ivanna. The caption he writes says, "I'm so happy for Dad. I can't help but shed tears for true love." I smile and turn off my phone. Holding the hand of the person next to me, I board a plane to Wismuth.

Iris Rossi, a 23-year-old sharp young attorney, has been building a reputation for dismantling the criminal networks of New York’s elite. She sees the Moretti family as her ultimate takedown. Dante Moretti, newly in charge of his late father’s empire, needs to appear legitimate, to secure his position against rivals and federal investigators. After a major courtroom win against one of Dante’s shell companies, Iris is confronted by Dante himself. Instead of threatening her life, he offers her a deal: marry him for one year and secure his public image, or watch her family’s hidden crimes surface, destroying her career and reputation. She discovers evidence that her late father laundered money for the Mafia, and Dante is holding it over her.

‘She was MINE before. How could I have known she would find another man so quickly?’Dresden Wade was pretty sure the goddess was punishing him. Married for half a decade to his childhood sweetheart without a child, he is desperate for a chance to fight his wrongs when he sees her again.His TRUE mate. The woman he scorned and humiliated all those years ago.Except that now, she is standing holding hands with another Alpha.Mara Reid wants nothing to do with the surly, arrogant Alpha that used to be her mate. He had made the earlier parts of her adulthood traumatic to say the least.So why did meeting him again feel like coming home? Why did her traitorous heart skip whenever he called her name?

On the highway, when the vehicles of drivers on the same stretch of road went out of control and rushed towards us, Wynn Lloyd protected me by holding me close beneath him. As a result, he ended up in the emergency room, battered.In the hospital ward, a friend praised, "Your husband is really good to you. When the car came crashing, he protected you with his life, not caring about his own."I remained silent.Indeed, he was good, but it didn't stop him from liking someone else.Wynn and I had known each other since childhood, for over a decade, and everyone said he loved me to death.But who would have thought that such a person had a mistress on the side?He pampered her in every possible way, indulging her to the extreme.

"I told you to give up." He grabbed my wrist and twisted it, pulling me close with a tender smile. "I told you, you can't escape. You're cold. Were you chilled?" I answered with a venomous glare. "If you won't smile... I'd stitch your lips into one with a needle if I had to. I don't want to be rough. But why... does nothing ever go my way?" Even as I stayed silent, he muttered to himself as if used to it, then lifted the temperature-adjusted showerhead over my clothes. "Stop being so stubborn and talk to me already. I'm the one who's suffering here... Okay? Elias Reyes." Find out who the man is-who stole Elias 's memories and is holding him captive.

Warning: This book contains sexual contents that are not suitable for those under 18🔞🔞. Please proceed with caution. He was supposed to be a one-night stand. Now I’m holding a gun to his head and I still want to kiss him. I’m a hitman. Flirty, unhinged, and hired to kill the cold, powerful mafia boss I’ve been obsessed with for months. But the moment I see him again, shirtless and smug, everything falls apart. Instead of pulling the trigger, I give him a warning. Now we’re hunting down the person who ordered the hit while trying to keep our hands off each other. He’s dangerous. I’m worse. And between the bullets, betrayals, and bedroom threats… I still don’t know if I want to kiss him or kill him.

John Garnett's secretary fed me to the dogs on my own birthday. I called his number endlessly to call for help, only for him to block my number immediately, as he fooled around with his secretary at the presidential suite in broad daylight. All I felt was agony as I was ripped into countless little pieces, still holding on to the black rose seeds he had given me when we were younger. That was not thrilling enough for the secretary, however, she buried me in the backyard of John' villa, intent on making my perished soul watch their bedroom activities. It was not until rain poured a month later, and a cluster of black roses suddenly grew in the backyard. "Where's Claire? I was just scaring her with the dogs—did she run away just to spite me?"