Dice Dreams Free Rolls Simple Game Guide Novels & Stories

It's my daughter, Clementine Hartman's first time smashing cake and we hold a big birthday party for her. Somehow, she digs out a thong belonging to Nancy Ortega, my husband's female best friend, from the giftbox he has prepared. Everyone is stunned, to say the least. Nancy lets out a soft gasp before blinking at me innocently. "Sorry, this is my fault! Shawn and I traded underwear just for fun some time ago, and I forgot to take it away. Please don't take this matter to heart, Karina." I do my best to suppress my rage and pretend that nothing has happened for Clementine's sake. But suddenly Clementine picks up a document. Thinking that it's a present prepared by the elderly members in the family for Clementine, I glance at it before putting it away. Unexpectedly, Nancy bursts out laughing. "Karina, is money all you care about? Did you seriously accept that document without going through it? Don't tell me you seriously think a property deed is wrapped up in that document!" Then, Nancy picks out a few pieces of paper from the pile before tossing them to me. Only then do I make out the details. It turns out that Clementine has actually grabbed a copy of the divorce agreement meant for me and Shawn Hartman. I stare at Shawn in disbelief. "Is this what you really want? A divorce?" Shawn looks perplexed at first, but he still shields Nancy behind him out of instinct. "Nancy's just pulling a prank. Don't take it to heart. She's just joking around." But Nancy sticks her head out from behind Shawn and adds, "Joking around? Shawn, don't tell me you've lost your courage to divorce Karina!" All the guests fall silent at her words. They all turn to look at me. After a while, I don't react by crying or kicking up a fuss. Instead, I drop my signature on the divorce agreement while everyone else stares at me in shock. "Fine. Let's get divorced." After all, it is my daughter's gift.

In the dangerous world of organized crime, love is a luxury few can afford. But for Andrea Lopez, the daughter of a powerful mafia family, it's the one thing she craves most. Despite her kindness and resilience, past traumas have left her wary of opening her heart. When fate brings her face-to-face with Stefano Costanzo once again—her best friend's brother and the ruthless don she's always longed for—sparks fly, and old wounds reopen. Stefano, a cold and ruthless mafia don, lives a life devoid of emotional attachments, harboring a secret pain known to few. Yet, seeing Andrea again after so many years reignites emotions he thought long buried. As they navigate the treacherous waters of their shared past and uncertain future, they're drawn inexorably together despite their best efforts to resist. But their reunion is not without peril. Stefano's dangerous world threatens to consume them both, and Andrea must confront not only her own demons but also the demons of the man she loves. Can they find redemption in each other's arms, or will their love be their undoing?   *** “Why the hell did you just do that?” I demand, my anger rising. “I’m trying to protect you,” he says, his eyes blazing. “Protect me from what? A good friend?” “He’s not who you think he is. I don’t trust him.” “You don’t trust him, or you’re worried he’ll take me away from you?” I challenge. Stefano’s eyebrow arches. “You think I’m worried he’ll take you away from me?” He leans in close, his lips brushing my ear. “Oh, luce del sole, no one can take you from me. You’re mine.”

For both Hayley and Kenji's freedom and the things at risk, they had to tie the holy knot. Although they are now married, they still hate each other and there is one rule they made for themselves and that's to mind your own damn business. But could they mind their own businesses when they are living together and are partners of a heavenly crime called fake love.

The Mafia circle in New York City was a tangled web, where power shifted in the blink of an eye. The Dusk family, once a powerful force in the underworld, was now reduced to nothing more than a pawn in the game. Their only hope for survival was to marry off their daughters, securing the support they so desperately needed. I, Seraphina Dusk, was sadly one of those daughters. In my past life, I had managed to secure myself a powerful marriage. I married Silas Vane, the head of the most influential mafia family in the country. My sister, Lila, was less fortunate, ending up with Jaxon Westmore—whom she believed would save her. I gave Silas a son and a daughter, and in return, my family was gifted wealth and power. But my sister? She was not so lucky. Jaxon wasn’t the man she thought he was. Instead of honoring the marriage or alliance, he squandered his time on models and strippers, leaving Lila discarded by both him and our father. One seemingly ordinary day, Lila invited me to lunch—never did I expect that she would kill me, drove a knife into my heart. Then she killed herself. And now here I was, reborn, back when our father first told us that Lila and I have to marry for the family. And this time, Lila called her shots on Silas Vane. That’s when I knew. She was reborn as well. Let her have him, then. She had no idea what kind of man he really was.

Soon after I came back to the country, someone slapped me right across the face in broad daylight, yelling that I was a mistress. A crowd of reporters closed in, pelting me with questions about whether Chandler Armstrong, CEO of Armstrong Industries, was keeping me as his mistress. I was stunned speechless for a moment, but then I pulled out my wedding photo with Chandler from seven years ago and held it up. "What are you talking about? I'm his wife!" The crowd went silent, and the woman who'd slapped me turned white as a sheet. Only then did I finally get it: while I'd been overseas, Chandler had been openly involved with an actress, and everyone in his social circle had already decided she was the future Mrs. Armstrong. Today, they all came expecting to confront a mistress—only to find out that I was actually his wife. Later, Chandler tried to justify it. "Alina, you've been out of the country for years. I'm a man, and I have needs. She's just a B-list actress; it's not like she threatens your position. Why should you be upset? Just let it go," he said. "Don't make a scene." I handed him the divorce papers. "You make me sick."

In my past life, my mother kept matchmaking me with a man with violence issues. After being subject to domestic violence, I tearfully called my mother and asked for help. However, she didn't do anything. Ultimately, I died from his violence while pregnant with his child. After I was reborn, my mother ended up being the one to marry him. This delighted me. She had no idea that he had AIDS!

Valentine's Day. I was stuck on ER duty at Brighton City Hospital. Theodore Madoff, who was supposed to be working late, strolled in carrying his student—Cecilia Kuntzer. She had red marks everywhere and that smug little smirk. "Relax, Mrs. Madoff. Just stomach pain. Lucky me, Prof. Madoff rushed me here." Theo pushed me to treat her. Turns out? She was pregnant. From rough intercourse. And the dad? Theo. My husband. The same guy who'd sworn off kids with me for ten years. Felt like a punch to the gut. But I still saved her baby. Next day, she uploaded a video—ID in hand, cheesy PowerPoint, accusing me of malpractice. Claimed I killed her kid. Then Theo asked for a divorce. Priscilla—his mom—stormed the hospital, shrieking about her dead grandbaby. She brought a mob. All these "righteous" strangers who stabbed me to death. Right there in the ER. I died with my eyes wide open. Then—bam—I woke up. Valentine's Day. Again.

"I would do anything to have you back, even if it means fighting the Gods" Armando Russo, a name that struck fear into the hearts of many who crossed his path. He strode into the room with an air of confidence that demanded attention, his sharp Italian-cut suit exuding power and authority. His dark, piercing eyes were windows into a calculating mind, a mind that had made him a force to be reckoned with in the world of business and beyond. Weakness? He had none. Until she came into his life- the daughter of his business rival whom he despises the most. Aurora Vero, a name that conjured a different kind of aura in the world of high-profile events. She entered any room with a grace that was both captivating and commanding. Dressed in elegant couture, she wore her status as a badge of honour, but it was her charisma that truly set her apart. With a smile that could light up the darkest corners of a room, she exuded a warmth that belied the fierce spirit within. What happens when such two different personalities are forced to tie a knot? Will Armando accept Aurora as his wife or keep his resentment towards her forever ?

He snapped around, glaring at her, oh lord she looked sexy, wearing thigh high boots, a pleated mini skirt and a very tight white button down shirt, which was only sparsely buttoned to cover her breasts. "Why don't you snap a picture it will last you longer and you can enjoy it when you are alone". She smirked as she twirled one of her braids around her hand. Oh he would love to grab those braids, making her use that naughty mouth for something better.. f**k Sebastian snap out of it, he thought, she is so not your type. "If I wanna look at cheap whores the internet got a better selection". Amber and Sebastian is both friends with Matt.. but just as he expected they are not getting along at all.. or is that just a cover for their attraction ? How with it all end when they get entagled in a bet ?

My mom believed in one thing above all else: being number one. To achieve that, she created a strict daily schedule and even developed a monitoring app that required us to submit reports every day. Anyone who failed to rank first according to the app's evaluation would be tied to a chair and severely punished. No matter how difficult the task was, my younger brother, Jason Hunt, could always complete it and receive a perfect score. Even when he actually ranked last, the monitoring software would still display him in first place. As for me, a single misspelled word was enough to trigger a failing warning from the app, followed immediately by my mom's harsh punishment. At first, I tried to explain. Later, I stayed silent. In the end, I could only kneel and beg. My mom remained unmoved. "Trash doesn't deserve sympathy," she said coldly. "You'll thank me when you become successful in the future." On the first day of the New Year, my mom took Jason out to visit our relatives and exchange greetings. I, meanwhile, was burning with a high fever and could not even finish the day's assignments. Ignoring my illness, my mom dragged me into a bathtub filled with ice. "If you're trying to escape studying, you don't deserve to live," she said. "Pretending to be sick? If you've got the guts, then just die already." She forced my head underwater and raised a rod, smashing it against my skull again and again. I begged desperately for mercy, but it was futile. My mom left with Jason, and I curled up alone on the floor. She was right. Only those who work hard deserve to live.