Danielle Outlaw Salary

My best friend, Cassidy Braun, earned a modest monthly salary of 2,800 dollars, only to constantly trash her doting husband with an annual income of 600,000 dollars, labelling him a broke loser. “That incompetent husband of mine can’t even afford a 20-carat diamond ring! “I have the looks that can bag me a billionaire. I must have been out of my mind to marry that piece of trash.” I chimed in. “You’re right. You’re practically a goddess. Only a Greek God stands a chance with you.” Eventually, Cassidy left her husband and hooked up with a trust-fund kid, just as she wanted. A year later, she was scammed out of every penny she owned and diagnosed with cancer. Fragile and broken, she came to me. “I heard that ex-husband of mine remarried and that he’s loaded now. Judging by the way he used to worship the ground I walked on, I bet he’ll drop the woman in a heartbeat if I ask to get back together.” I gave a dismissive nod while running my fingers along the new Birkin bag my husband had bought. “Oh, absolutely. He’s pretty wealthy now.”

BLURB: Sofia, a 25-year-old girl, was deeply in love with Miguel. They dated for five years, and Miguel decided to marry her. On the day of their wedding, the situation changed, and the occasion took another heartbroken dimension. Miguel, Sofia's fiancé, was caught red-handed entangling with Linda, a bosom friend of Sofia, right inside the restroom in the event hall. Sofia angrily left the venue heart broken. She went and got herself drunk just to appease her shattered heart. To numb her pain of betrayal, she became pregnant, which was a result of her one-night stand with a stranger, Donal, the CEO of Ocean Group of Companies. Lily, Sofia's mother, fell sick as a result of the shock, betrayal, and shame she witnessed. Worse still, her medical bills became challenging. Sofia, unable to foot her medical bills, decided to sell the minibus of their late father. Since her salary couldn't help out. Lizzy, her younger sister, objected to it. She was never in support of her selling any of their late father's property. The only option left to raise money for their mom's medical bills is to apply for a loan from a Bank. ETC BANK is the only bank that can offer such a loan. And Linda, her bosom friend, is working as a head in the department responsible for loans. And Sofia has vowed never to set her eyes on Linda again. How will Sofia sort herself out from this horn of a dilemma?

A betrayed politician’s wife. A rebel alpha with nothing to lose. A town crawling with secrets. And a war waiting to ignite between blood and fang. Calla Hart thought the worst thing her husband could do was cheat. She was wrong. After catching Senator Blake Hart in bed with a vampire and learning he’s part of the Crimson Order, a vampire mafia that wants her blood. Calla runs. Not for love but for survival. Because what’s in her veins isn’t normal. She hides in Ravenridge, a decaying supernatural border town where monsters walk like men and shadows bite back. A place where the veil between worlds is wearing thin. There, she crashes—literally—into Axel Cain, the 20-year-old Alpha of the Vanguard Pack, a feral biker gang that patrols Ravenridge like outlaw wolves. Axel doesn’t do politics. Doesn’t do mates. And definitely doesn’t do soft, wealthy women from the city. But something in Calla’s scent sets his wolf on fire. And when he learns who she’s running from—and what she really is—he makes a choice that will cost him everything: Keep her close. Claim her. And start a war that could burn the veil between their worlds. --- Extra Note for Readers This is a slow-burn paranormal romance with steamy heat, deep emotions, and an age-gap dynamic. She’s older, hunted, and secretly powerful. He’s younger, dominant, and doesn’t play nice. Together, they might save the town… or destroy it.

On the first day of work, the company president said that I looked like his long-lost daughter and gave me a salary of 100 thousand dollars, on the condition that I ate together with his wife every weekend. Once my boyfriend heard this, he yelled at me in front of my colleagues, “How could you believe such a cheap lie?! It’s just an excuse for him to pay you for dirty favors! If your mother learned that you got yourself a sugar daddy after graduation, she’d jump off a building!” So, I rejected the president’s offer. Someone told the department manager that my boyfriend and I insulted the president, and he fired us. My boyfriend was really shocked by this. He stayed at my place and loafed around instead of working. When he no longer had any money left, he asked my mother for money. After that, he asked me to sell my organs. After I said no, he knocked me out with chloroform and sent me to an unlicensed clinic. The doctor there did not use the standard procedures, so I died from the pain. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the day I met the president. This time, I shouted, “Sir, you look just like my father, even though we are not related at all!”

I accidentally saw a notification pop up on my husband’s phone saying that an automatic transfer had been completed when I was using it for navigation. Immediately after that, his ex-girlfriend, Wanda Blake, sent him a message on WhatsApp: [I’ve received this month’s 10,000 dollars for child support. Thank you, Koah. I don't know what I would have done without you.] I froze. “Child support? “Koah, you told me that the money you send every month was for medical expenses for your mother’s treatment!” Koah Quinn’s expression stiffened as he explained, “Honey, don’t misunderstand. I just felt that life has become really hard for her because she’s a woman raising a child on her own. Her ex-husband refuses to pay child support, so I wanted to help her out…” I touched the old watch on my wrist. The one I had not replaced in years to save money, and felt extremely disappointed. “Your monthly salary is only 6,000 dollars. Where did you get so much money to send her?” He was silent for some time before finally admitting. “I used the money we had set aside for the new house’s downpayment.” I was stunned. He had taken the money my parents had scrimped and saved for decades for me as downpayment for a home and then transferred it to his ex-girlfriend as child support.

My mom is 71 years old. Thanks to her arthritis acting up, she's in so much pain that she can't descend the stairs at all. She tentatively calls me and asks if she can rent an apartment that comes with an elevator of its own. But my wife, Lucy Glaser, brings out the household ledger and points at the red numbers on the pages. "Last month, you bought yourself a tie, which is 300 dollars beyond our monthly budget. Yet now you're planning on adding another impulsive expense?" Only then do I realize that I don't even have the freedom to buy myself a tie despite earning an annual salary of tens of millions of dollars. My mom is still trying to explain herself in a humble tone over the phone. "Oh, please don't feel troubled about it, Caleb. I was just asking on a whim. I've already grown used to my old home anyway…" After I end the call, I feel rather stuffy in my chest. What's there for me to feel troubled about? After all, I'm a partner of a top-tier law firm who earns tens of millions of dollars every year. The one who keeps standing in my way is Lucy, who's only a mid-level lawyer yet insists on controlling my finances. She also calls herself the best candidate for the household asset allocation.

During the Labor Day team retreat, I had booked out the entire top floor of the Grand Summit Hotel. Yet, when my fiancee, Serena Wagner, found out, she was enraged. "Matthew Grant, are you out of your mind? Spending over 800,000 dollars to rent a place for one day? Since you're so rich and have nowhere else to splurge, just let me help you spend it!" Then, she called over our intern, Dylan Foster. She pointed at him and started yelling at me. "He only makes 6000 a month as an intern. Why don't you give him this money instead?" I looked at my colleagues standing nearby, their faces clearly uncomfortable. I replied calmly, "His salary isn't low compared to industry standards. Besides, the team-building budget belongs to everyone. Why should I give it all to him?" However, the moment those words left my mouth, Serena exploded. "I'm your finance director and your future wife! Of course, I get to control where your money goes. If you don't agree, then let's call off the engagement!" With that, she stormed off with Dylan. I silently picked up a bottle from the floor and poured myself three glasses. The first glass was for her, for being with me through the first half of my life. The second glass was for me, for having a clear conscience in this relationship. The third glass was for both of us. I wished us well as we parted ways and moved on with our separate lives.

I was born blessed by the god of fortune. No matter where I work, I can close major deals while lying down asleep. The underboss of the Castellano mafia family discovers this secret. He shows up at my door personally and invites me to join as a consigliere in name only. He offers me a six-figure annual salary and chauffeur service. He even installs a special ten-foot-wide massage bed in my office just for sleeping. After I join the Castellano family, arms deals finalize one after another. Several stalled collaborations come back to life. The Castellano family's reputation climbs steadily. Until the boss' girlfriend shows up to inspect for the first time. She grabs a pair of scissors and, in front of everyone, shreds my mattress to pieces. "Useless! We don't pay you all this money to sleep! "Starting tomorrow, you're working as a bar hostess. And you'll be paid like one too." I rub my sleepy eyes and stare at her in confusion. Last night, to help the Castellano family finalize that casino operation rights contract, I didn't sleep a wink. I barely fall asleep, so how am I useless? The soldato beside her breaks into a sweat. "Signora, she's…" "Shut up!" she cuts him off arrogantly. "From now on, I'm the one in charge of the Castellano family!" Fine. Since there's no place for me here, I'll find somewhere else to sleep. I hear the rival family's boss is willing to give me an entire luxury estate.

“I want to taste you, can I?" He asked pleadingly. I was gonna say no, but the throbbing in my nether region said yes. “Yes," I breathed shakily. He then started to kiss my hip bone trailing as he pulled my panties off. “Raise your legs," he instructed and I obeyed. He pulled my legs apart and inhaled. “Exquisite," he praised as he lowered his head and gave me a long, luxurious lick. ************ Dionnah Delaney is a hardworking, ambitious African American. She is headstrong and knows exactly what she wants in life. She does accounting plus she runs a successful design business with her other sister Danielle, who is engaged to Johnathan Mulroney. Johnny cannot stop raving about his other brother Mikey who has retired from being a Navy seal and he's coming home just in time for the big wedding. Dionnah doesn't want love and commitment after her first love broke her heart several years ago. But things change when Mikey steps into the picture. He's a billionaire playboy, who is smug and conceited on top of all that. Even though the two butt heads they can't deny their undeniable attraction. After one night of steamy sex, Dionnah and Mikey agree to never talk about it again, until weeks later when two pink lines show up on a pregnancy test. What will happen when Mikey wants more than what Dionnah has to offer, will she be able to let love in her heart, or will her ambivalence cause her to miss her chance at happiness and her forever after?

In Alabama’s rot-soaked bayous, Drucilla Drakes survives by three rules: silence, scars, and never letting Louise—her Bible-thumping captor—catch her hoping. But when a schoolyard ambush leaves her bleeding beneath a stranger’s leather jacket, invisibility becomes a death sentence. Enter Dragon Morales: New Orleans’ most notorious runaway, a cartel prince turned outlaw mechanic with grease-stained hands and a death wish. He doesn’t save people—he survives them. Yet in Dru’s lashed flesh and hellfire gaze, he sees his own shattered reflection. Their bond is gasoline and matches. Dragon’s father—Colombia’s cartel kingpin—hunts them relentlessly. Louise, armed with voodoo rites and the chaos-hungry loa Marinette, vows to break Dru. Their only allies? The Lou Nwa, a bayou biker gang trading in bullets and black magic, and Papa Legba, the crossroads spirit who offers Dru a lethal bargain: *“Her soul or yours.”* Fleeing through the Deep South’s cursed underbelly, they dodge cartel hitmen, haunted swamps, and safehouses reeking of betrayal. Dark magic seeps into old wounds; family secrets tighten like nooses. Dragon swears he’s too ruined to love. Dru knows she’s too shattered to trust. But in the bayou’s choking heat, desire is a grenade they can’t outrun. This isn’t a fairytale. It’s switchblade kisses and saintly curses—a collision of fire and ruin where protectors become predators. Dru doesn’t need saving; she needs an inferno. And Dragon? He’s got a lighter and nothing left to burn. Will they raze the South to ashes, or become the sacrifice the crossroads demands? One truth remains: in the bayou, even survival leaves scars. **Warning:** No princes here. Just bayou smoke, blood-soaked magic, and the kind of love that devours.