Cara Menggambar Ring Basket

Despite a decade of marriage, Simon never once shared my bed, claiming that he had pledged himself to ascetic practices and that it was beneath him. I thought that he suffered from some shameful ailment and guarded his secret like a devoted fool, until my birthday, when I came home to find him entangled with a brothel worker before the floor-length mirror. When I lunged forward in rage, he drove a shard of that broken mirror straight through my heart. When I awoke, I was gripping my phone, its screen illuminating a message Simon had just sent: [I’ll still give you a lavish wedding, but the marriage certificate? That belongs to her.]

"Looks like our female lead likes playing hide and seek" It may contain grammatical errors. I am only a beginner.

After my 99th failed confession of love to Jim, my parents grounded me for two weeks. "You've embarrassed yourself enough over that illegitimate son from the Larson family," they snapped. "Has he ever even spared you a proper glance?" "Stay home and reflect. We've already arranged your marriage to the Shaw family. The wedding will be in two weeks." However, I didn’t give up. I was so determined to see Jim, no matter what. Only to walk in on him locked in a deep kiss with his precious first love in a private room. "Jim, you really know how to play," one of his friends laughed. "If the Cunningham family's heiress catches you like this, she'll probably lose her mind again." "Seriously, you've turned Ella down so many times, and now that she's grounded, you haven't even sent her a message. Aren't you afraid she'll finally give up on you?" Jim just scoffed with disdain and said calmly, "What's there to be afraid of? Everyone in the capital knows Ella is obsessed with me. Who else would want her but me?" "If I hadn't needed her to get back into the Larson family, I never would've postponed my engagement to Rowena in the first place."

She believes he had the saviour trait when he stood over the rain, his hand stretched out, offering his fur coat as shelter as he wrapped her in his arms, guiding her away from her bleak life that just ended. Not knowing that he was the beast, that clawed with his fangs and long nails like a vulture until he wasted her silently. "You will be my wife..." Turned out to be her worst nightmare.

Marcus Donnelly at twenty-six is one of the most successful and famous painters in the whole country. His masterpieces on contemporary art have sold for millions making him quite a well-known figure in the world of Fine Arts. However, after a mishap, two years ago, he develops a painter’s block which he’s unable to overcome. He has almost given up hope when he lands up at a beautiful beach house on Long Island. The positive atmosphere in the house coupled with the presence of a young, delicate girl willing to work as his housekeeper, compels him to buy the property. Will he be able to get over his block? What will happen when he falls head over heels in love with the young girl? Can he control his feelings when they turn into an obsession? What will happen when he uncovers secrets of her past life that drive her away from him? Cara Rose Sullivan is a sweet, eighteen-year-old, school dropout who is struggling to make ends meet after her parents' death. The sole breadwinner of her family, she is somehow providing for her three small siblings by taking up odd jobs. So when the very attractive Marcus Donnelly offers her a permanent job, can she decline it? Can she stop her heart from beating fast every time he’s near her? What will she do when he seems to be always near her? What will she do when he seems to invade her dreams as well? Read this heart-stopping, emotional roller-coaster of a love story that will keep you spell-bound!

Dear best friend, I had sex with our daughter after you died. 🦪 Dora lost her father on her eighteenth birthday, and she swore to find his killer and end his life herself. Because of this, she signs a ‘fight till death’ deal with Umbra, a deadly secret organization her father worked with. A fight where only one of the two fighters would walk out of the ring alive. Dale Lazarus, a man secretly in love with his best friend’s daughter, killed his best friend in a fight. One of them had to die for the other one to live, and it was Dora’s father who didn’t walk out of the ring. Dora doesn’t know this: that Dale Lazarus, her father’s best friend, and also the man she’s shamelessly obsessed with, is the killer she’s after. She swore to his face that she was going to wipe her father’s killer off the planet, not knowing she was talking about him, and He trains her to kill her father’s killer, knowing he was training her to kill him. What happens when Dora realizes she signed a deal to kill the man she is obsessed with? ~ Content warning: This book contains several sensitive topics that may be disturbing to some readers. Reader's discretion is advised. Specific warnings include: Graphic violence and gore, Explicit sexual content, Description of grief and loss, and strong language.

At the wedding, just as I was about to exchange rings with my fiancée, her conniving boyfriend intentionally pushed his son toward her. Right in front of everyone, the boy looked up with teary eyes and asked, "Mom, why are you marrying this man? Don't you want me and Dad anymore?" My fiancée, who never lied, smiled, took the child's hand, and said, "I was only pretending with this man earlier. Now I am going to marry your father." The banquet hall buzzed with whispers. Everyone expected me to get jealous and blow up. Instead, I said the child came first and calmly handed the ring to the boyfriend sitting below the stage. Seeing how cooperative I was, my fiancée grinned and promised she would give me a healthy baby boy someday as a thank you. However, she seemed to have forgotten that we had not officially tied the knot yet. Truth be told, I had no intention of ever doing so.

The richest man in the country, Sebastian Vance, has a ring custom-made to my exact measurements, worth billions of dollars, for the woman who will be his bride. In the first life, my stepsister, Mia Lowe, slips on the ring and marries him. Sebastian claws her face, shouting, "She's not the one!" In the second life, my other stepsister, Lorraine Lowe, loses 30 pounds before marrying him. He shoves her down the stairs anyway and says, "She's not the one either." In the third life, my stepmother, Vivian Cole, grits her teeth and slices off a piece of her own flesh just to force the ring onto her finger. Sebastian sneers and pushes her under the bathwater, holding her down until her body goes limp. By the fourth life, out of options and terrified, they finally send me. I slide the ring on, and it fits perfectly. My entire family lets out a sigh of relief. But the second Sebastian lays his eyes on me, he draws a knife and stabs me to death. "Why is it still not her? Where is she?" In the last life, he has his assistant, Owen Hayes, deliver a ring to us. All four of us insist that it won't fit. Owen shoots us a strange look. "Mr. Vance said the rightful owner of this ring is among you."

I'd been married to Joshua Merck for five years, but we still didn't have kids. To stay healthy, I took those pricey custom vitamins he ordered from overseas—never missed a dose. Then my cousin came back from studying abroad, took one look at the bottle, and was like, "That brand doesn't even make custom vitamins." I sent them to the hospital for testing. The lab report hit me like a truck—birth control pills. Powerful ones. Suddenly, all those mornings with Joshua hovering over me, acting so concerned while I took my "vitamins," made sense. The whole thing had been a lie. Five years of lies. Just as I was gearing up to confront him, my phone buzzed—a group chat notification. Shirley Hoare had tagged Joshua. [Honey, I had a prenatal checkup today, and the doctor said I'm carrying twins! Your family's about to get two grandchildren at once—excited?] My heart turned to ash. Everything clicked. Fine. We were done. I pulled out my phone and replied to my childhood sweetheart's message from three days ago: [After watching the northern lights, I still wanted to see penguins in Antarctica.]

After I came back to life, the first thing I did was hand that five-carat diamond ring—yes, the one my husband gave me—to his mother. The very woman who spent years picking me apart like it was her favorite pastime. In my last life, that ring was a custom New Year's gift. He paid a ridiculous amount for it. I actually thought it meant something. One afternoon, I was out shopping when I walked right into a bridal party taking pictures. The bride glanced at my hand, saw the ring, and her entire expression changed. She stormed over and slapped me, accusing me of being a shameless mistress trying to steal her man. I stood there, completely stunned. She was wearing the exact same ring. Before I could explain, her friends grabbed me. They dragged me aside, tore my clothes, hit me, and stomped on my hand until I couldn't move my fingers. They carved the word "mistress" into my face and paraded me through the street like some kind of public disgrace. I died there on the pavement. When my husband finally appeared, he didn't fight for me. He just signed off on a settlement, as if my life were nothing more than a piece of paperwork. Widowed that morning, married to the bride by nightfall. His mother instantly welcomed the new woman, all because she was pregnant. And then I opened my eyes again… back on the very day he first placed that diamond ring in my hand.