Can T Take My Eyes Off You By Andy Williams

I break up with Ansel Wright when his enemies chase him for debt payment, and I start dating a rich man. Ansel says he loves me and begs me not to break up. He weeps and continues that he cannot live without me; I am in another man's arms as I pour whiskey on him and say scornfully, "Ansel, stop pestering me! I never want to hide with you and live without money again!" He leaves with a despondent look on his face. Six years later, he returns to Wall Street as a finance giant that everyone in New York takes notice of. The moment he gets back to the country, he brings his fiancée to show off to me, but he cannot find me, no matter how hard he tries, because I die the day he returns to the country.

"You were never really meant to last, Olivia. Sebastian just made the mistake of dying in your place.” Philip's eyes darken, and something cruel passes in them. “But don’t worry—you won’t be far behind.” Something inside me shatters. My voice shakes, my whole body trembling. “My heart, my love. I gave you everything. And this is w-what I get?” ••• Olivia made all the wrong choices. She chased the wrong love, trusted the wrong people, and lost everything—including the one person who had always been there. Now, with a second chance, everything is changing. But can she fix what she broke? Can she love the husband she once pushed away? And more importantly… will he ever let her? Sebastian once begged her to stay. Now, he won’t even look at her. The wounds she left behind run too deep. The love she never wanted is slipping through her fingers, and she’s beginning to understand things she failed to see before. The truth is slowly unveiling itself, and it’s more painful than she ever imagined. This time, she’s not just going to stand by—she’s going to fight for him, for their future. But as old enemies resurface and secrets are revealed, Olivia realizes the price of redemption may be more than she’s willing to pay. Can she make things right before it’s too late, or will she lose him again, this time for good?

A month before I was set to present my life’s work—the Moonlight Therapy—Marcus, my Alpha and fiancé of five years, asked me to give the entire research project to his old flame, Isabella. I refused. He spent the entire month trying to convince me, insisting he was only fulfilling her dying wish. Then, two weeks before the presentation, a link from a friend arrived. That’s when I discovered Isabella was already promoting my research online as her own. He had never intended to ask for my permission at all. In that instant, I chose to sever our five-year bond. What Marcus didn’t know was that the core research he’d stolen was critically flawed. On the very day Isabella presented that faulty data to the world, I walked through the doors of the Boston Werewolf Medical Institute instead. I never looked back.

"Doesn't it bother you?" I blurted out right there and then, having been asking myself that question since the night we slept together. I was curious, but I'd been obviously avoiding him. "What? That you're the heir to the Siren-" "That I'm trans," I said. I could care less about what he think of me being a Sirenio by blood. "T-That I'm a trans...man," "Does it bother you that I'm bisexual?" he asked me. I hadn't expected that response. Not when I'm having mixed feelings about all of this. "Does it?" he probed, closing what's left of the space between. His scent and warmth envelopes me as I'm caged between him and the sink. I shook my head. "Use your words, Miles," he said running his finger over my bottom lip. I shuddered at the sensation it brought to my body. "You were so good with those, that night," I sucked in a sharp breath. I looked away, and his touch disappeared immediately. "It was a mistake," I whispered, my heart racing. "What...happened was a-" "I don't do mistakes, Miles," Mr Stark said guiding my eyes back to his. "You should know that by now," I let out a shaky breath when his thumb found my bottom lip again. "Does it bother you that I want to fuck you right now?"

When my son asked me about his father while crying once again, I pointed at the television. Samuel Shaw, who had just made it into the top three of the wealth rankings, was being interviewed. He said he had achieved fame and success, and the person he hated most was his childhood sweetheart and ex-wife. “She abandoned me when I was gravely ill, all for the sake of money. But it was that very betrayal that pushed me to rise from the ashes in my darkest hour.” The reporters grew excited and suggested contacting me on the spot. "She must be filled with regret, begging Mr. Shaw to take her back!" My phone rang right then. I answered and immediately asked for money. "Samuel, my son is sick. Could you lend me sixty thousand dollars?" He abruptly hung up the phone and said with a cold laugh, "Knowing she's living so miserably gives me peace of mind." Looking at the kidney failure report in my hand, I silently wept. Six years ago, I secretly donated one of my kidneys to Samuel. Now, his son was suffering from the same disease and didn't have much time left.

~You were there when my heart fell for you, but you were never there when my heart yearned for you, still, you never got out of my heart~ I thought it was good to leave because it seemed like they were on their date. I turned around suddenly Newt called. 'Prisha, is that you? Wow! what a pleasant surprise..." I slowly turned towards him, forcing a smile, and replied, "Hey! Newt, nice to see you..." "What are you doing here? Where is your friend Kriste? It is a little awkward to see you without her. I have noticed you two going everywhere together be it washroom as well," he mocked chuckling. Even though I didn't found it even a little funny, I forced a smile and replied, "I am just wandering around the town alone. As I was bored staying home. And about Kristen, she might be busy somewhere." "Oh! anyway come and join us. I want to introduce you to my..." "Girlfriend," before his words were completed my mind had already said it loud. so, I hastily interrupted him, "I am so sorry. I need to rush back home. My mom called me twice. Bye..." Before he could react, I was already out of the restaurant at great speed. The sky was covered with heavy black clouds and soon one after another drops of rain drip down along with my tears. I walked few steps but was not able to go any further. I fell on my knees getting weak to stand and slowly eyes got blur. Soon, I collapsed on the ground and before my eyes were forced to shut, I saw someone walking towards me.

Asya is the most promising ballerina the Royal Ballet has seen in years. Wildly ambitious, back-breakingly disciplined, and immensely driven, she has only one objective: prima ballerina. There is nothing she won't do to earn this once-in-a-generation title. But behind her ballerina grace she hides dark secrets of an inhumanly strict mother, pushing her body to cruel limits, and serial hookups with male dancers. Roman Zharnov is the star of the Russian ballet: young, successful, arrogant, beautiful, and worst of all, talented. He's come to London for a fresh start after earning himself the nickname 'the bad boy of ballet'. It is during a rehearsal that his eye falls on Asya, a nineteen-year-old soloist with spitfire in her eyes and a raw talent capable of silencing an auditorium. But Asya has a partner, and she wants to stay as far away as possible from the Russian prodigy with a reputation that won't seem to leave him alone. In the competitive world of classical ballet Asya is climbing the ranks, earning coveted parts and building a name for herself as a promising soloist. But all the while she is playing a dangerous game behind the curtain. Roman has found the one ballerina that can keep up with him and wants her to partner him, but he will soon realise that animals can't do what she does.

Tony Gambino never forgave me. His childhood sweetheart died saving my life, and for seven years, his hatred was a constant, silent burn. I fasted. I prayed. I begged for absolution. He met my penance with a cold sneer. "I'll only forgive you when you're dead." The words were a knife to the heart. So why, when we were both poisoned, did he shove the only antidote down my throat? As the poison claimed him, blood trickling from his lips, he choked out his last words, "Scarlett... in our next life, let's never meet." Later, I tried to visit his grave. His sworn brother and Consigliere, Richard Bruno, blocked my path. He pressed a gun to my forehead. "I don't know how you have the nerve to show your face here, Scarlett. He'd be alive if he hadn't saved you. "I should never have let him give up Elma for you. You're a curse. Everyone who gets close to you gets destroyed." Their eyes were unanimous in their blame. And they were right. So I watched his gravesite from a distance, my own guilt a heavier stone than any marker. Not long after, I was killed in a gang crossfire. When I opened my eyes, I was seven years in the past. This time, I made a different choice: I let Tony go—so that everyone might live.

Have you ever been inlove with your best friend and never found the courage to say the word and voice out what's stuffing you in your chest? this is a love story of a girl name Zoe Marcus a nineteen years of girl who found herself loving her childhood best friend Arabella Anderson but was unable to say the one word that will make her accept her love. She watch her date Rowan, a guy they grew up with. no matter how much she wanted to confess her feelings, she couldn't not after seeing how happy Arabella wad with him. But it so much happened that Rowan never loved Arabella, but Zoe. Will Arabella accept Zoe after finding out about her true feeling for her? What will happen when Rowan becomes so obsessed over Zoe and will be willing to do anything to get her? read to find out.

During the third year of our marriage, my husband's ex—whom he dated for eight years—suddenly shares a photo of a ten-million-dollar marital home on her social media. It's captioned, "I've finally gotten a mansion! Who's the best at dating? I am!" I gape at the image—I see my husband swiping his card at the real estate sales office in a corner of the photo. I leave a question mark in the comments. In the next second, my husband calls me to tell me off. "I'm just making good on a promise I made her when we were dating—to buy her a marital home. Why did you have to go insult her like that? Are you evil enough to turn me into a man who goes back on his word?" That evening, his ex shares another photo of a million-dollar renovation bill. I know it's a gift from my husband to appease her, but I don't care anymore…