Black Clover Leaf

For three years, Laurie Rayne lived as the perfect wife. She was silent, devoted, and invisible in the shadow of the Voss empire. Every bestselling creation credited to the Voss name bore her fingerprints, but none bore her name. And Zane Voss, her cold, distant husband, never once gave her his heart. Now his first love is back, and Laurie is nothing more than a forgotten pawn; discarded, humiliated, and blamed for everything that went wrong. But when her younger brother's life is on the line, Laurie begs Zane for help… only to be spat on and called a leech. Cornered by desperation, Laurie does the unthinkable… She auctions herself off to the highest bidder. Theron Blackmoor: ruthless billionaire, feared businessman, and the man who buys her at a price that shocks the world. He makes her his possession, but promises her power in return. Anything she wants: except her freedom. As Laurie experiences the dark, seductive world of Theron, she uncovers secrets that were never meant to surface. Zane is not done with her. And the past she thought she left behind may be the key to taking everything back. Love was never part of the deal. But is it? Revenge? That was always the plan. ♠

«Marley!» Il se branla de son siège, "Je vous interdit de prononcer ce nom désormais. Je ne peux pas y croire!" il attrapa fermement ses cheveux. "Mar-" "Ne fais pas ça!" il la coupa avant de lui lancer le morceau de papier qui ne volait qu'à une petite distance de lui jusqu'à la moquette. «Neuf semaines?» ** La nuit, Liza, strip-teaseuse de dix-neuf ans, sacrifie son école pour parrainer ses sœurs à l'université, paie les factures et gagne du pain. Les choses empirent lorsque le doyen la congédie après avoir découvert qu'elle dénudait la progéniture d'un client. Richesse, Marley Woods, vingt-trois ans avec assez pour être qualifiée de milliardaire, est la PDG d'une entreprise de fabrication automobile connue. Mais la mauvaise conduite d'une nuit l'engloutit dans un dilemme de destruction cérébrale. Amour et désastre, Zaphrina et Marley ont commencé sur un chemin rocailleux avec l'aide de sa perspective sur les femmes. Des étincelles commencent à se former entre ces deux humains immiscibles alors que Zaphrina devient l'employée de son pire cauchemar et que le destin étant le cadeau parfait enveloppé de ruban, les deux se retrouvent dans une situation et ne peuvent pas se passer de l'autre. Liza se présente juste à temps pour ruiner l'union harmonieuse avec l'aide de quelqu'un qui recherche le chagrin de Marley plus qu'elle ne cherche son bonheur.

At the Davenport family dinner, I arrive wearing the same dress Tucker Davenport's true love once wore. His face darkens immediately. He glares at me coldly and orders that my dress be burned on the spot. "Damn it, Willow, can't you show a little self-awareness? Shelby might be too naive to notice, but there's no way I'm letting you appear like this in front of her." The intense heat rushes toward me as the flames consume the fabric. A sharp, burning pain shoots between my legs, crashing over me like a tidal wave. The pain drags me under, but I suddenly jolt awake, barely able to gasp a plea for mercy. Tucker doesn't spare me a glance. He simply turns away to help Shelby cut the cake. Days later, he finally remembers I exist. "As long as you behave and don't bother Shelby again, you'll still be Mrs. Davenport." I stare at the burns on my legs as my tears dry up. I refuse to beg any longer. I'm done being Mrs. Davenport.

The pills I keep by my bedside have been swapped with vitamins. I almost die after getting a heart attack. After the stent surgery, I ask my husband, Evan Whitmore, to find out who did it. I just want the truth. However, he doesn't even look up and just brushes me off. "It was just a mistake. Cecilia probably grabbed the wrong bottle. She bought those vitamins for me. "Don't push this. She has asthma. She can't handle stress." I stare at him in shock, my chest tightening. I can't tell if the pain is from my healing heart or from the words he just threw at me. Cecilia Monroe is his secretary, and he always takes her side. That moment is when I realize that our five years of marriage mean nothing to him at all.

After eight years of loving him in vain, my boyfriend, Gilbert Hughes, finally proposed. The wedding is set for a week from now. However, just as I'm happily preparing for it, I accidentally overhear a conversation between him and his friends. "I have to give it to Gilbert. The moment he proposes, his first love, Cheryl, gets restless." "But now that Cheryl's back, what are you going to do with your girlfriend?" Gilbert pauses for a moment, then replies casually, "It's fine. I'm not actually going to register my marriage with Jennifer. At worst, I'll just hold a wedding and play along." At the party the next day, he wraps his arm around me dotingly and socializes with our guests. Yet, the moment Cheryl Manning runs out in tears, he instantly lets go of me and chases after her in a panic. I follow quietly and watch them embrace tightly in the dark, kissing each other deeply. With my heart completely shattered, I turn away and dial a number. "Want to get married? I need a groom."

Dakota Stelter and I tumbled down that steep ravine together. I lay there bleeding and broken, only to watch my boyfriend scoop her into his arms and walk away without a backward glance. He left me. In that moment, in every way that mattered. While everyone fussed over Dakota's scratches, no one even checked if I was still breathing. When I was finally rescued and recovering at the hospital, my boyfriend didn't even visit. I was hurt. So I moved on. Piece by piece, I rebuilt myself without him. But then he became distraught. Suddenly, he was sobbing, telling me he had always loved me.

Seven years into our marriage, my husband, Lucas Thorne, is hailed as a legendary astronomer in the field of astronomy. It is no secret that he absolutely adores me, his wife. He always keeps a polite, distant demeanor with those around him. Even when his new assistant, Serena Cox, asks for his number, he coldly turns her down. In the year he proposed to me, he named a star "LAW", which was an acronym for "Lucas Adores Wilma". Since then, every asteroid he discovers is named with initials that hold a special significance only the two of us know. To others, they might just be scientific achievements. But to me, they are unspoken love letters. This goes on until this morning, when I stumble upon an unfamiliar phone. I unlock it easily with my middle name, thinking it's yet another quiet gesture of his love. But to my horror, I find a string of explicit messages between him and another woman. The person who was at the receiving end of those messages was none other than… Serena, his assistant.

My childhood sweetheart who promised to marry me the moment I graduated proposed to Camille Willow, my sister, during my graduation ceremony. At that moment, Dennis Malcolm, the most eligible and admired bachelor in Blington City's elite circle, stepped forward and confessed his love for me immediately after my childhood sweetheart's proposal was accepted. For five years after our marriage, Dennis showered me with devotion, treating me with such tenderness that it felt as though I were the center of his world. But everything shattered the day I overheard a conversation between him and his close friend. "Dennis, now that Camille's on top, are you really going to keep pretending with Tracy?" "It doesn't matter. I'll never have Camille. Besides, as long as I'm here, she'll never disrupt Camille's happiness," he answered. The paper notes he held dear, each one carefully preserved, revealed a harsh truth. Each one carried her name, accompanied by heartfelt wishes: "May Camille be released from her burdens. May she find peace within herself." "May Camille achieve all she dreams of, and may her heart love freely." "Camille, we were never meant to be together in this life. I can only hope that in another, we will walk side by side." … Five years of devotion shattered in a single moment of clarity. I crafted a false identity and planned an elaborate drowning to vanish without a trace. From this day forward, in this life and all others, we shall never cross paths again.

I had been married to James Tennant for seven years. In that time, he had already kept twenty-nine mistresses, like pretty little canaries in gilded cages. Now, I saw the thirtieth one in our bedroom, young and draped in nothing but a bath towel, lounging across our bed. I turned to him and asked coldly, “Can’t get enough out there, huh? Did you really have to bring her home?” The girl deliberately tugged her towel lower, her pale skin showing as she sneered, “Mr. Tennant says you’re like a dead corpse in bed! He wanted me to teach you how to please a man.” That night, I was forced to watch their little performance right in front of me. The next morning, James was furious at my indifference, resenting me for not reacting. However, he seemed to forget that our marriage was nothing but a contract, and in just one week, that contract would expire.

Born to meet. Fated to love. "Listen to the silence. And you shall find the answer to your heart." When Clover Hon sensed somebody turning on the black van she was hiding beside, she immediately slid in sneakily without giving it much a thought. The only thing she knew was that she gotta escape. She was never going to continue being a sex slave. Never! But whose van was it? Did she really escape from trouble?