Cradle Me I'll Cradle You

"You can never own me, I am neither the objects in your room nor the body on sale. " I shouted. "There is nothing I can't own. Just some bucks swayed and things are mine." He smirked with a wittiest smile. "You will come to me begging! Mark my words! " "I will make you mine-with the power of money. The power which can buy anything, which can win anyone. " "What a miserable heart you own! Mr Billionaire" My heart felt pity for him. "Do you think your money can buy love?" "Things of beauty are costly to have but then there is nothing I can not afford. " He blurted flushing a mischievous smile. "Soon, I will own every bit of you. " He asserted, soon his face turned stern and smile was replaced by a horrifying determination shining through his brown lifeless eyes. "You will be mine" He whispered , coming closer to my ears.

I am about to book a room at a hotel owned by Luca Conti, a consigliere under my command, when a sharp voice suddenly cuts in from behind me. "Aspetta. That's not your price." I turn around. A woman wearing a manager's badge stands there with her arms crossed, scrutinizing me as if I am an unsightly stain she can't wait to wipe away. "We don't allow prostitution here," she says coolly. "If you're receiving clients, there will be a fine." As she speaks, she hands me a penalty notice. The charges are clearly listed on the paper. "Illegal guest reception fee: 350 thousand dollars. "Special soundproofing fee: 150 thousand dollars. "Special cleaning fee: 100 thousand dollars. "Total fee: 600 thousand dollars." Receiving clients? I have simply come straight from a Mafia cocktail party without changing clothes—that's all. What exactly does she take me for?" I lift my gaze and answer evenly, "You're mistaken. I am not that kind of person. You can contact the hotel owner, Luca Conti, and ask him who I am." A sneer flickers through Sofia Rossi's eyes. She spits to the side, full of contempt. "Still claiming you are not a puttana? Women like you come here every week. Every single one of them swears she knows him. "Our boss is the consigliere to the Russo family, the most powerful Mafia family in Seneriffe. Do you really think he needs someone cheap like you? "I suggest you pay up now, subito, before your client loses patience and drags you into the street and rapes you." I do not waste another word on her. I take out my phone and send a message directly to my secretary, Marco Bianchi. "Notify Luca. Either this manager, Sofia Rossi, disappears from this city, or he does."

It was five years ago when Andrew's friends died. Two of them were his teammates in volleyball and one of them was his boyfriend. All of them were said to be killed by his best friend, Allen. The tragedy almost caused him to take his own life. But just like the rainbow that appears after a rain, Andrew was able to get back on his feet and tried to live as normal as possible. It was then when he met Karl, a handsome and a tall looking man with a cold demeanor. For Karl, Andrew was his sun no matter what his past is. Andrew was the person who changed him, a person he had promised he wouldn't leave. But there will always be darkness after the sun shines. For they thought they could finally be happy, a person from the dark past came back. Will Andrew be able to find happiness? or will the past pull Andrew back to how he was? For updates follow me on my Facebook page: @lawlietwrites

"You have no house to go to, no money, no friends and no child to drain me of child support. Don't be stubborn. You know you'll die without me, I'm your only family left." Once again that proud tone was sneered at me. "I worry for you." Devon’s eyes glimmered waiting for me to go on my knees and beg him. I shake my head. "Worry about yourself Devon. Do you really think you'd go scott free after the shit you pulled today? You couldn't even let me mourn my baby in peace." I searched for his gaze, my eyes burrowing into his. "I promise you, if not today, one-day Devon. I'll make you wish you were dead." ____ Corrie North gave Devon Remington everything. Amazing sex? She gave him her body. A devoted house-wife? She abandoned her career for him. A fucking maid? She scrubbed every inch of his sprawling mansion. A child? She nearly died bringing their son, Haven, into the world. And how did he repay her? Devon betrayed her. He cheated with a younger woman, handed her divorce papers, and vanished on the day their son died in a mysterious accident. Two months later, he finally showed up to Haven's funeral, with his pregnant mistress on his arm. As if that wasn’t enough, he accused Corrie of murdering their child. Devastated, Corrie vowed revenge. She vanished from Devon’s life, promising that everyone who played a part in Haven’s death would pay, including him. Four years later, Devon wants her back. He’ll do anything to make her his again. But Corrie isn’t the same woman he left behind. Will she make him pay for his betrayal , or will old flames pull her back into the arms of the man who destroyed her?

Bella Wilson's marriage shattered in an instant when she found evidence of her husband Mike Wilson’s infidelity. The breaking point came at the Grand Astoria Hotel, where Bella witnessed Mike being intimate with Lucy, her own best friend. That betrayal ended tragically when Lucy stabbed Bella repeatedly until she died, while Mike simply watched with a gaze as cold as ice. However, fate gave her a second chance. Bella woke up in the past, exactly seven months before her cursed wedding day. Armed with memories of the future, Bella swore she would avenge every drop of blood she had shed. While acting as a naive bride-to-be, Bella secretly built her financial independence and worked at a conglomerate owned by Dominic, Mike’s eternal rival. The wedding that was supposed to be a happy day has now turned into a stage for public execution. Amidst the flames of revenge, will Bella be able to complete her vengeance as Dominic’s presence begins to heal her dead heart?

“Just stay married to me for three years. After that, we divorce. In return, I’ll help you destroy your husband and the woman who took your child.” I agreed. Not because I was weak. But because I survived. I was once a devoted wife. Obedient. Loyal. Pregnant with a child I believed would save my marriage. Then his first love returned, and everything I trusted turned to blood and betrayal. We were rushed to the same hospital. I was bleeding. She was crying in his arms. There was only one operating room left. He chose her. He wheeled his mistress, his first love, into surgery and left me behind to miscarry alone. I lost my baby on a cold hospital bed while my husband held another woman’s hand. I divorced him. But some wounds do not heal. They sharpen. Now I have a contract marriage, a man with no love to give, and a plan written in patience and pain. I will take everything my ex-husband values, piece by piece, and make him beg for what he threw away. Forgiveness is for the dead. And I am very much alive. Watch out, husband. I will ruin you.

During a kindergarten parent-teacher conference, a rich wife accuses me of stealing her bag. I'm baffled. I bought the bag myself abroad, and it even has my name etched on it. However, when I scrutinize the bag, I discover that my name is missing. I call my husband, and he impatiently says, "I gave your bag to Jen. She's fresh out of college and needs an expensive bag to make herself look good. Even Finn said the bag is too young for you—it suits Jen more. You're too old for these things. You should be glad to even have a fake one." I bark out an exasperated laugh. I can go without having a husband, but the bag has to be returned to me.

Years after graduation, someone suddenly tags me in the class group chat. "Mr. Warren is gravely ill, Mira. Aren't you going to do anything? You really are heartless!" I only realize what's going on when I click on the fundraising link in the chat. Our high school homeroom teacher, Joseph Warren, has late-stage cancer. Thus, Lyra Fairfield, the class belle, is leading a fundraiser and patient-donor matching process. "I'll donate ten thousand dollars. My husband is the director of Waverly General Hospital, and I've already asked him to arrange a VIP ward for Mr. Warren." Right after I send that message, the group pounces on me. "Mira, you contracted an STD back then and tried to pin it on Lyra. She didn't even hold it against you, and now you're trying to steal her thunder? You're unbelievable!" "I can't believe you're still lying through your teeth during such a serious situation. You never change, do you?" Lyra immediately defuses the tension. "Mira, I don't blame you for what happened in the past, but you really shouldn't impersonate the director's wife. I've already arranged the ward and surgery, and I'm donating another 100 thousand dollars to Mr. Warren!" I'm this close to laughing out of sheer anger. She's the one who scratched her name off the diagnosis report and framed me for having an STD all those years ago. I never even confronted her about it, and now she's playing the victim? Lyra soon posts a photo in the group chat, showing off her husband's car. Yet, when I see the man in the passenger seat, I guffaw. Isn't that my husband's driver? When did he start running a hospital?

It all started when my fiancée's adoptive brother, Afton Jackson, claimed I had used a dirty scalpel in his private parts enlargement surgery, and that had given him Syphilis. My fiancée, Mia Jackson, flew into a rage. She stomped on the hand I had used to perform surgery. Then, she stripped me naked, forced me into humiliating poses, and put me up for auction on the black market for free. [Second-hand. Free.] Her best friend tried to talk her out of it. "You and Ryan Hathaway are about to get married. Are you really going to destroy him like this?" Mia's voice was calm. "He operated on Afton so recklessly and made Afton break down after catching that disease. Afton almost jumped off a building, yet he still refuses to admit what he did. He doesn't deserve to be a doctor. I'm only trying to scare him. It's not like I'm really going to give him away and let him catch some filthy disease too." I stood in the doorway, my face pale. When our eyes met, she spoke as if every word were justified. "You made a mistake, so you deserve to suffer for just a little while. As long as you cure Afton and then apologize to him, you'll still be the fiancé I love most." I silently held back my tears and reposted the auction link to my feed. It was claimed in seconds with a single comment. [I'll take him.] But Mia's face darkened as she threw the wine glass to the floor.

On the tenth day of my postpartum recovery, my husband, Deputy Commander Harvey Wyatt, uploads a photo of me breastfeeding my newborn in a disheveled state to the department's group chat. Obviously, that photo was taken without my knowledge. "See? After having a kid, she's as loose as a sack. It makes me sick just looking at her. I much prefer my side piece, who's nice and tight." A few female colleagues send sweating emojis to the group. The majority of the chat, however, consists of the male colleagues' perverse silence. While I continue to burp my baby with one hand, my tears land on the screen. In order to give birth to this baby, my pelvic bone was sawn in half, which causes me so much pain that I can't even walk properly. But all I get in return is my own husband body-shaming me in front of hundreds of people. I don't bother arguing with Harvey at all. Half an hour later, I drag my broken body all the way to the commander's office with a divorce agreement as well as the chat history over the past ten days, which has been printed out, in my hands.