Danny Phantom Freak Show

He'd wanted her for six months. And the opportunity had finally arrived to make Celia Taylor his—at least temporarily. Billionaire businessman Evan Reese knew she was desperate to get him to sign with Maddox Communications. Perhaps he would. But first Celia needed to accompany him to beautiful Catalina for a family wedding. There he would wine, dine and seduce the stunning ad executive…for he knew she desired him, as well. Yet would she still want him when Evan told her she'd be playing the role of his fake fiancée? CAPTIVE BRIDE He wants his baby, so he'll make her his bride! To teacher Erin Lavelle, handsome billionaire Peter Ramsey was like a fairy-tale prince. But after two amazing days their affair was over. Peter had thought Erin was different until he discovered her secret. Then seven months later he finds her pregnant. Now there's only one way to ensure his unborn child's security…marriage. Erin's knight in shining armor has returned, this time demanding she be his bride!

When the boss...gets unbuttoned! Deep in the Brazilian rainforest, innocent English rose Grace has come to reclusive billionaire Rafael's lair to save her business. With just minutes to persuade him to help – her only other option is to settle her debts in his bed! Alexandra is worlds away from Max Goodwin's glamorous staff, but this CEO needs a secretary – fast. So he hires Alex, with one condition: a makeover! Soon Max's thoughts turn from professional to very personal indeed... Brilliant surgeon Ben Blackwood grew up with nothing. So when the rich daughter of the man who jeopardised Ben's career appears as his new trainee surgeon, Ben isn't happy... But sparks are flying!

She belongs to me...she doesn't know it yet. Nikolai When people gaze into my eyes they learn instantly that they'll find more sympathy looking into a cobra's eyes. I'm ruthless and heartless, and I have the Midas touch. Everything I touch turns to gold. There is not one thing I wanted that I have not ultimately conquered and made mine. Now I want her. There's one problem though. She hates my fucking guts. But I'm licking my lips. I know how to fix that. I'll make her submit, then I'll take her, over and over until she's in no doubt who she belongs too. Star It isn't meant to be anything more than a contract I have to fulfill. One month and it will be over. I'll get through this, then I can go back and pick up the pieces of my life. When I meet the Russian, the owner of the contract, any worries that I need to harden my heart and keep my emotions locked up, disappear. This man makes it easy to hate him. He is the most arrogant, cold-hearted brute I've ever met. I hate him... Well I do...until the unthinkable happens.

The butler's son took my secondary credit card and burned through my money so he could play the part of a trust-fund prince everyone envied. He made me, his employer's real daughter, bring him lunch every day and run errands for him. In front of his classmates, he smeared me as his family's servant and a desperate girl chasing after him. He even stole my family's heirloom jewelry to impress the campus belle. I finally hit my limit. I decided to give him a lump sum and cut ties completely, treating it as payment for the life-saving favor he once gave me. But after I brought it up, he and his father poisoned my family's food and seized every bit of our property for themselves. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my college classroom. Facing the butler's son, who was still flashing the wealth he stole from me, I took his card and cut it in half. "If you keep pretending like this, your butler dad's salary won't cover the act."

Feeling overwhelmed by loneliness, I installed a one-way mirror in the bedroom of the apartment next door, which I specifically rent out to muscular men. One day, through the mirror on the wall, I watched my tenant with his girlfriend, caught up in their fiery passion. I couldn't help but be drawn to his strong physique and impressive size. One day, I pulled him into a small, dimly lit cubicle with me...

My sister, Aria Sawyer, stumbled drunk into a billionaire's room one night. Now, she was pregnant and wanted the whole family's advice. Something about it felt off. Forget about how mismatched they were. How could a billionaire's suite possibly have no security, letting anyone just wander in? When I pointed that out, Aria actually agreed. She decided to end the pregnancy and start fresh. But the very day she left the hospital, headlines exploded. The billionaire was marrying another woman carrying his child. Aria went mad with jealousy. Right in front of our parents, she grabbed a knife and stabbed me to death. "This is all your fault! That spot in high society should have been mine!" And then, my eyes opened again. Aria sat there, blushing sweetly, calling a family meeting. "I think I might be pregnant with Mr. Moore's child. What should I do now?"

My younger sister was crazy about novels and always envied the way ordinary heroines pick up penniless heroes and climb the social ladder. So, she started picking up men wherever she could. Until one day, a man with a face covered in sores collapsed at our doorstep. I instantly recognized the signs of syphilis and warned my sister repeatedly, and only then did she give up the idea. However, fate had other plans: my sister's best friend "picked him up" instead and married into a wealthy family. My sister held a grudge. On my birthday, she locked me in my room and set it on fire. No matter how desperately I begged, she refused to open the door. Outside, she sneered: "I know you're just scared I'll live better than you, so you want to drag me down into misery with you. People like you don't even deserve to be a sister!" I burned alive, my body reduced to nothing but ashes. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my sister insisted on "picking up that man." This time, I quietly stepped back, letting her have her way—of course, I chose to let her succeed.

My wife is the daughter of a top jewelry tycoon. She accused me of pushing her mother down the stairs to steal the family fortune and had me thrown in prison. While I was locked up, her people disfigured my face and crushed my hands—the same hands that once played the piano. After my release, I run from her like a madman. Just like she said I would, I give up and start mooching off a wealthy woman. But then, she clings to me and begs me not to leave.

After closing a 100-million-dollar business deal, I dip into an ordinary-looking cafe by the street on a whim. "I'll have a cup of cappuccino, please." The waitress, who's immaculately dressed, rolls her eyes at me before sashaying toward me. In a fake, nasally tone, she says, "I'm sorry, but there aren't any servers here. I'm the owner of this place." She eyes me up and down before continuing, "The prices here are relatively high for regular people. Are you sure you want to order coffee from me?" I pause in the act of massaging my temple. Finally, I scan around the cafe. "Your cafe is nothing to look at. Are you saying that you're not going to serve regular people, then?" The owner's friend jumps up to her feet instantly at my comment. Then, she starts berating me angrily. "Gianna has opened this cafe just to burn her free time and contribute to the community by giving them a taste of what it feels like to be rich! How dare you question her! "Do you even know who Gianna is? She's the successor of Luxara Corporation! Her boyfriend is Levi Anderson, the CEO of Miller Group! How dare you talk to her like this! You won't be able to make a living in Westford anymore!" I raise an eyebrow in response. The man who had kneeled before me with tears rolling down his cheeks while begging me to invest in his company… was the boss of Luxara Corporation, if I remembered correctly. Also, isn't Levi that live-in husband of mine?

It was almost New Year. I had just withdrawn money from the bank when I noticed that the amount on my passbook didn't match the cash in my hand. I counted carefully—my passbook showed a different figure than the five thousand dollars I was holding. Frustrated, I turned and went back to the counter to find the teller who had handled my transaction. Clutching the receipt, I tried to be polite. "Excuse me, I think there might be a mistake with this transaction." Instantly, she snapped, pointing her finger at my nose. "Don't you know that once you leave the counter, we are not responsible for any discrepancies?" I waved my hands, trying to explain. "No, wait, look again. I clearly withdrew five thousand dollars, but on my passbook, it shows…" She cut me off impatiently. "When you filled out the form, it was all right there. Once you leave the counter, it's not our problem. You signed the form yourself, confirming everything. Are we supposed to correct it every time someone claims a mistake after leaving the bank?" I froze. No wonder she kept repeating that the bank isn't responsible after leaving the counter. She thought I had come back to ask for more money. What I was really trying to explain was simple: I withdrew five thousand, yet my passbook showed that I deposited five thousand.