Breakfast Quotes

His eyes traveled all over my body, from head to toe. It made me self-conscious for some reason. "The dress fits you well,” then he paused and murmured, looking at the floor. "I was wondering if you'd like it or not." "Huh?" His head turned to me again as if he was freed from a trance. "So now will you tell me what I have to do for you, sir?" I said sarcastically. "What?" He looked at me with surprise. "What? You have to have some purpose for keeping me here by force," I said, pressing on the last two words. He paused for a few seconds and then the lamest thing I could have ever imagined came out of his mouth. "Yes, you are here to serve me," he stated blankly. "What? Did I hear you right? You knocked me out, kidnapped my sister, and blackmailed me into coming here just to be your servant?" I cried out in disbelief. A smirk began to settle on his face as he took in my reaction. He was enjoying this absurdity even more! "Yes, dear. You are here to serve me. From now on, you will be with me 24 hours. All matters regarding me are your responsibility from now on." This is insane! Is he really a pervert? What is he trying to pull? "But you already have a lot of servants!” I protested. “And they're always at your beck and call too! Why the hell would you have me kidnapped for this? And who gives new clothes and breakfast in bed to a servant?” This was driving me crazy. Was he playing with me? Probably, a rotten rich vampire prince playing for fun. But I was not going to play hooky with him. No way!

Welcome back to Clifton Heights. Sheriff Chris Baker and Father Ward meet for a Saturday morning breakfast at The Skylark Diner to once again commiserate over the weird and terrifying secrets surrounding their town. Sheriff Baker shares with Father Ward the story of a journal discovered in the ruins of what was once an elaborate koi pond and flower garden, which regales a tale of regret, buried pain, and unfulfilled debt: “Sophan” – Jake Burns has always been a bit...off. Rude, awkward, sometimes brutish, he's tolerated by Nate Slocum and his friends because he hits a mean line drive, and because they all know but don't discuss the abuse he faces at the hands of his troubled father, a Vietnam veteran consumed by his demons. But Jake is suffering something far worse than domestic abuse, and when Nate discovers what, he faces an impossible choice: help Jake and put himself in the path of evil, or abandon him, only to damn himself in the process. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

Ella is her name. She's just an ordinary girl. Oh, wait, is she really as ordinary as we presumed about her? Allora, you can't guess it right. For she herself didn't know about her true identity. Living in a ramshackle hut with an old man with whom she had no blood relation. There's nothing extraordinary about her lifestyle or even her. She wakes up, prepares breakfast for both of them, and then the old man leaves of food hunting. They're living an extremely poor life which is a common status in her surroundings. And one day she had a mysterious dream, the one she had never thought of. Not even in her dreams! Her 18th birthday was coming right after two days and she's having his dream as a present. Well, a present worth it all. Forest, wolves, handcuffed maiden, and the demand. A two-word demand, asking for the keys. What keys those strange, voiced creatures were asking for? Whose keys? She didn't know but soon she will know.

In the third year the law firm was established, Claire Stone joined the firm as an assistant. From then on, my boyfriend started buying breakfast for her. My childhood friend also drove her to and from work. As for me, I became the wicked woman who bullied the newbie. The repeated disappointments made me decide to expel them from my life. So I agreed to a marriage contract with someone else, and while my boyfriend and childhood friend mocked me, I left the firm we had formed together. Later, they learned that they had been showering all their love and attention on a spy sent by a rival law firm. When they regretted their actions and asked me to go back to them, my husband sent them an invitation to our wedding.

"Good morning, Greg. What would you like for breakfast?" "What? Did you just call me Greg? Are we mates? What gives you the right to call me that? Just because you're my wife? Listen, don't you ever call me Greg." "But... we're... married..." "So what? I only married you because of my grandmother. And let's face it, we're not on the same level, whether it's age, class, or status. You're just an eighteen-year-old country girl." "I'm 26, and you're only 18. An eight-year age gap isn't a joke. Just because we're married doesn't mean you can call me by my name. Didn't your parents teach you to respect your elders?" "How should I address you then?" "Just call me sir. I don't ever want to hear 'Greg' from your mouth again," I said sternly "The Billionaire's Country Girl Bride" is an engaging novel about the marriage between Greg, a rich businessman, and Sophie, a young country girl. Greg insists on being called "sir" by Sophie due to their age gap, and sets strict rules that keep them apart. As Greg brings other women home and ignores Sophie's feelings, she finds support in her university roommate, Diana. The story follows Sophie's journey as she learns to stand up for herself and find her own strength. With Diana's help, Sophie discovers the power of love and resilience.

On the one thousand and ninety-fourth day of being Mrs. Harris, I asked James Harris for a divorce. His face showed a hint of confusion, but it quickly shifted to his usual, composed expression. "As you wish," he said, his tone as flat as if we were discussing whether to replace the milk on the breakfast table. He did not even bother to ask why. On the one thousand and ninety-fifth day, I gently saw him and the children off, acting as if nothing had happened, and then completely left the Harris family behind.

I knock on the door, heart pounding like it always does when I’m about to see him. “Come in,” Justin’s voice calls—cool, smooth, and frustratingly calm. I take a deep breath and walk in, holding the folder tightly. “Here’s the report you requested, sir.” He doesn’t even glance at me. Just keeps typing, his expression unreadable. “You’re late,” he says without missing a beat. I clench my jaw. “There was a delay at the printer—” “No excuses, Joanna. Just do better next time.” Ouch. Professional and cold. As always. I nod, ignoring the sting in my chest. “Yes, sir.” I turn to leave, gripping the doorknob—just one more second and I’ll be out of this weird tension-filled office— “Wait.” I freeze. I turn around slowly. “Yes?” Justin stands now, walking toward me. In his hand, a familiar brown paper bag. He holds it out. “You didn’t have lunch.” I blink. “I’m fine.” “You skipped breakfast too. Eat.” I hesitate. “What is it?” “Chicken pesto. No onions.” My breath catches. He still remembers? “Why are you doing this?” I ask quietly. He shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “I just… remember things.” My fingers brush his as I take the bag. Warmth. Stupid warmth that shouldn’t still feel this familiar. Then, he looks at me—really looks at me. “You shouldn’t skip meals… wife.” Silence. My chest tightens. “Don’t call me that.” But my voice is too soft to sound convincing. I walk out before I say something I’ll regret. His words echo in my mind like a dangerous lullaby. Cold one second. Kilig the next. God… he’s still him. And that’s exactly the problem.