Dumb Phone Finder

After five years in a secret relationship with my boss, Eric handed my hard work to his childhood sweetheart, Shelly. Suddenly, they were the perfect power couple. And me? Just the girl he kept hidden. He never even looked my way. So why was I still holding on? One phone call later, I was done. Time to leave—and see what else was out there.

On our wedding night, Zach received a phone call and left my side. From then on, I knew that all of my efforts over the years had gone to waste. After all, the person he loved had returned. “Cassia, let’s get a divorce.” “But we just got married two days ago.” “You know that I don’t love you, and I never will.”

Hot. Fast. Dangerous. Only two things are capable of sating my hunger: racing and women. I’m a devil behind the wheel, and there isn’t another man in New York City who can beat me. Nor any dumb enough to try. But there was a woman who could. My ex-wife, Evie. And she did. Messed me up real good. Thanks to her, I gave up my dream of racing, but I can’t run from fate forever. The evil bastards at her side have taken over the underground racing scene, but I’m diving back in deep. With my focus on the road, the last thing I need is a distraction, but that’s just what Laina is. My best friend’s little sister feels off limits, until she isn’t. Perfect curves and a smile that could melt hearts, this woman has me wanting to say yes from the start. She’s relentless and drives me mad with the desire to be bad one more time—just for her. I might be outracing demons, but I’m not running from anything. Not me. Not ever again.

"I've transferred the three hundred-dollar rent to you. Thanks, Samuel." A contact named Misty has sent my husband, Samuel Tucker, a message on WhatsApp. I snatch his phone immediately, only to be stunned by what I see. "Rent? Samuel, you told me that this is the income you earn from your part-time job!" Samuel's expression freezes on his face. Then, he tries to snatch his phone back. "Darling, my brother has already passed away. It's difficult for Misty to raise two children on her own…" As I caress my tiny baby bump with a hand, I feel my heart sinking at his words. "Which residence is this rent for?" Samuel parts his lips hesitantly. A long time later, he finally tells me the residential area's name. I'm completely flabbergasted at that point. The luxurious apartment sitting in that particular area is an asset that my deceased parents have left for me. Also, the rent there is worth 10,000 dollars. Yet, Samuel has rented it out to my widowed sister-in-law, Misty Patterson, and her children for only 300 dollars!

My mother claims my husband has cheated on me and pushes me to get a divorce. I want to collect evidence before proceeding with anything—if it's true, I have to uphold my rights. Yet she causes a scene at an art exhibition I've worked on for three years, humiliating me in public and making me sound like a gold digger. "How are you any different from a prostitute when you're holding this dumb exhibition with a man's money? I didn't raise you to be a gold digger! How can you be so revolting?" She slashes the million-dollar paintings in the exhibition, claiming that she's doing this for my good. She wants me to see the error of my ways and return to the right path. Meanwhile, I clutch my bloody hand, which she slashed with her blade. I say, "You say you want me to return to the right path, but is that what it really is? You want me to divorce my legally wedded husband, who's a CEO, without a penny to my name. "Then, you want me to marry a 45-year-old cheap man who has a child and no money? He even wants me to support him!"

At three in the morning, I stare at the unknown transaction record on my phone screen, my fingertips turning cold. The record is for a payment of 2980 dollars, made for an executive suite at the Wisteria. The time of payment was 8:00 pm last night. My husband, Tristan Griffin, is a detective. He was on the night shift last night. I clutch my phone, my knuckles turning white as I text Tristan, "I just saw your credit card bill for a hotel stay last night. What's up with that?" His reply is instant. "Our team had to work overtime at the last minute, so they put us up at the hotel. I forgot to tell you about it." I scan the text and sputter. The Wisteria is located in the western region of the city, which is on the other end from where his squad is stationed. I don't press him for more details and click on the bank app on my phone. Having found the vendor's address through the payment record, I sent it to my best friend, Rowena Sheffield, who works as a private detective. She replies instantly with an "OK" emoji and follows up with, "Give me a second. I'll find out everything you want in a jiffy!"

My childhood friend said that he was connected with the doll. Now that he had lost it, he called me up to cry. One hand held my phone as I consoled him, while the other toyed with the doll. His voice began to take on a more interesting tone with my purposeful touches… I squeezed and pinched the toy and comforted him, “Shh, I agree with you. Whoever took your toy is a terrible person…”

My online boyfriend is very rich. Every time I get treated badly by my unscrupulous boss, he transfers money to me. But after another late overtime shift, I finally snapped. I was on the phone, yelling, “I’ll never forgive Zack Barlow. That scumbag!” However, my online boyfriend suddenly becomes quiet. He then asks, "Is your boss also named Zack Barlow?" His words made me pause.

Samantha Hurst, a showgirl from Las Vegas, did not expect that at twenty-five her life would be transformed when she met Theon Adamos at a bachelor party. Theon, from a large and noisy Greek family, could not have imagined that one phone call could completely alter the course of his life. A single fun and spontaneous weekend can have definite consequences. What happens in Vegas, does it really stay in Vegas? Sometimes life really is a bitch!

It was just another morning commute—until he happened. Across the train aisle sat a man who looked like he’d stepped out of a high-end magazine and straight into a power struggle. His voice sliced through the air, sharp and commanding, as he chewed someone out over the phone like he ran the damn universe. Arrogant. Entitled. Dressed like a Wall Street god. Correction: he looked like a god. That’s where the charm ended—or so I thought. When the train screeched to a stop, he stood up in a hurry, stormed off… and left his phone behind. Did I pick it up? Yep. Did I snoop? Absolutely. Photos, contacts, a few mysterious texts—I couldn’t help myself. Did I keep it longer than I should’ve, building stories in my head about the man behind the voice? Yeah… I did that too. When I finally gathered enough nerve to return it, I marched into the glass-and-steel fortress he called an office. He wouldn’t even come out to meet me. So I dropped his phone on the desk outside his office door. And maybe—I left a photo on it first. Not exactly the professional kind. What I didn’t expect? A message. From him. What followed were late-night texts that burned hotter than anything I’d ever known. Words became whispers. Whispers turned into fantasies. I was falling—for someone I hadn’t even really met. He and I? Total opposites. Fire and ice. Chaos and control. But when we finally came face to face, it wasn’t just sparks. It was an inferno. What happened next? Let’s just say… falling for him was the easy part. Surviving what came after? That’s where the real story began.