Dumpster Rental Mentor

Looking to get over a betrayal and layoff, Everest Prue Camara goes to the small town of Lucerne-Alpane County to find recluse, and hopefully, discover a new passion. When fate puts her up as a neighbour with a single father, Everest is determined to not fall for the handsome rancher. Especially not when his six-year-old had wormed her way up her heart already. Mentor Gayle Calloway Jr. had always thought he was doing okay. His ranch was turning out very well over the years, Lucerne-Alpane was paradise to him and his daughter was fine, so what else could he need? The arrival of a new neighbour up the road puts the rancher's whole belief into question when he starts having feelings for her, to his annoyance. Everest has to make the choice of succumbing to her needs and risk toying with his heart, or steering clear till her recluse was over. Mentor finds it equally hard giving in to his own passion, especially having sworn off women. Will both of them relent and find solace in each other? Especially when at play is The Rancher's Heart?

My boyfriend has depression. To help cure him, I pass on the opportunity for a recital abroad. Instead, I accept commercial gigs so I can rake in the cash. After one performance, I see my boyfriend holding hands with a woman who looks like me in a private room. He wears a sharp suit and smiles so brightly that he doesn't even look ill. The people around him cheer and tease him. "You really are different with your true love back in the country. When are you two going to make things official?" "I heard you'd been dating another woman for seven years, though. Do you love her?" Charles Foster smiles indifferently. "I was just having some fun with her. Only an idiot like her would take me seriously." I sob with devastation while hiding behind a door. Suddenly, I feel like a fool for spending seven years with him. I call my mentor, who suggested that I take part in the international piano competition. "I will take part in the competition."

Jasmine became a human-robot dead to emotions, the night her parents were murdered in cold blood right in front of her. She was a killer, the type that tempts a man with her body, entices him with her siren-like voice, and then drives a blade into his chest sending him to his Creator. When her uncle and the only family she had is killed by the Governor she sought out to get him in the only way she knows how to, but her plan falls through as she discovered he wasn't in the least interested in her body. In between being his assistant, sharing a floor with him, and wondering why he had such a cold blank look that made her shiver, he slowly was beginning to work his way into a piece of her anatomy she could swear she had tossed into a dumpster - Her heart. Now Jasmine must choose between revenging her uncle's death or try figuring out if there was more to the hardcore desire she felt for a man she was supposed to hate with her being.

"Let's live in together ..." She said those words solemnly in her flat facial expression like reading a formal report. “WHATTT???” The young man blinked his eyes in disbelief several times at the woman in front of him as if she has gone insane. But the firm look on her eyes showed him that she was serious with what she just said before. “I like this apartment. You also like it, right?” “Let’s live in together so we can share the rental fee. After 1 year, we can decide whether we want to extend here or not?” The woman glanced at him once again. Requesting for an answer from his mouth. "How?" The young man turned his head away. He seems irk with this weird request but in other hand, he should admit that everything that she said was makes sense too. Especially for sharing the rental fee. It’s a win - win solution! He’s totally broke! And he is in an urge for finding a new place to stay now! "OK. Deal… ” The two of them shook hands as an agreement. "But I also have a request." The young man said those words while his hand still holding her hand warmly. He stared at her and forming a smile on his face seductively. Arissa frowned and raised her eyebrows confusedly. "What is it?" "You can't fall in love with me ..." She sneered out and a mocking smile curved on her face shortly. "No worries. I'm an asexual after all…. ”

After being condemned across the internet for plagiarism, I stood before everyone and announced my retirement from writing. My boyfriend, Carter Xavier, who had been furiously accusing me just moments ago, froze in shock. “What are you doing? Don’t you still have debts to pay?” Ruby Quinn—his precious and the so-called victim of this scandal—immediately panicked. “Vera, you don’t have to punish yourself like this. I’m willing to give you a chance to start over.” I remained firm, my expression cold and unmoving as camera flashes exploded around me. In my past life, these two had humiliated me, plotting together behind my back to steal my work. My painstaking efforts had built Ruby’s reputation as a so-called genius author. But not this time. Without hesitation, I deleted the pen name I had used for the past six years. I had spent enough time struggling in a cramped rental apartment. It was time to return home and claim my family inheritance. As for Ruby Quinn— Let’s see how you finish the rest of that stolen manuscript without me.

Salvatore El Manzoni is the most powerful mafia boss in the world. But if his mentor, Avanindra Vallar asks him, he would mountains and that was how Salvatore became a bodyguard to Mr Vallar's son. His life takes an unexpected turn when he meets the clean businessman, Aryan Vallar. Aryan Vallar is the youngest billionaire around. He owns the seas and the oceans and is as reckless as any 28 year old hot blooded rich man. He has never been told no and when finally someone does, he is shocked. One night changes Aryan's world.

I watch as he gently places the gun on the table. Seconds tick by a heavy silence filling the room. He takes a stand and makes his way to me. He takes a stance behind my chair and places his firm arms on my armchair, caging me. I bask in his scent and warmth. "You choose now Lana, here and now." He whispers into my ear. His traces my knuckles before grabbing my notebook out of my hands, and tossing it on the table. "I wasn't done with that." I say. He laughs, I feel his chest rumble as he laughs. I turn to face him, feeling my breaths shorten with each passing second. "Eyes on the prize, Lana." He turns my head back towards the table. "You choose the notebook you can go back to living your life in fear and delusion, then one day end up dead in a dumpster or," He brushes a strand of hair from my face, " You could pick up the gun and hunt your past which shall it be Lana?" I feel beads of sweat on my back and my anxiety prickling through my skin. I have to choose, here and now. I extend my hand and pick my choice.

When my husband Joshua dragged his student Linda Moore into our apartment, I didn't even blink—I gave up the bed. Last time, it'd been pouring when he showed up with her in the middle of the night. Told me to crash on the floor with my daughter Mia and gave Linda the bed like it was nothing. I lost it. Fought with him, snapped at her. She bolted, slipped into a ditch, and supposedly drowned. Joshua said nothing. Then, one night, with the storm going wild outside, he pried open a manhole and dumped me and Mia in like trash. "Linda's my mentor's daughter. She's dead—how am I supposed to face him? You two can apologize yourselves." We didn't even get to scream before that freezing, disgusting water swallowed us whole. Turns out, Linda faked the whole thing. Just a twisted joke to punish me. Joshua moved her in right after, like nothing happened. Now, thunder cracked again as the door opened—and there he was, Linda right behind him.

My roommate had a peculiar knack for pestering everyone into liking her posts on social media, all so she could collect enough likes to claim some prize or another. It was her way of life—nagging, nudging, and guilting us into clicking that little thumbs-up. One time, the campus beauty queen liked my roommate's ad for a facial mask. Not long after, she was in a horrific car accident. The vehicle caught fire, and her face suffered severe burns, leaving her disfigured beyond recognition. Meanwhile, my roommate seemed to undergo a miraculous transformation, her complexion turning porcelain fair and flawless as though she'd been kissed by the heavens. Then there was the academic prodigy, a shoe-in for graduate school, who liked her tutoring service post. Shortly after, he was exposed for academic fraud, and his once-brilliant reputation was reduced to ashes. Strangely enough, my roommate's research paper suddenly won an award, catapulting her to fame and fortune. And me? I fell into her trap too. I liked her rental agency ad, and before I knew it, my world crumbled. A scandal erupted, revealing that I was the result of a mix-up at birth. It turned out she was the long-lost child of wealth and privilege—a hidden gem cast into the rough, now reclaimed by her rightful family. As for me, I was packed off to the countryside village she had escaped from and forced into a brutal marriage with an old man. My life became a living hell, and eventually, I died there, broken and forgotten. But fate wasn't done with me yet. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day my roommate begged me to like her post in exchange for yet another prize.

On April Fool’s Day, my CEO husband cut out my heart to save his childhood sweetheart's son. After the surgery, he tossed me into a cold rental apartment, where I died in agony. Three days after my death, my five-year-old daughter played in the room as usual. Walking by the sofa, she wrinkled her little nose and mumbled, "Mommy, there's a weird smell in here." She touched my face and murmured, "Mommy, are you pretending to be Snow White? Why are you so pale?" She shook my arm harder and raised her voice, "Mommy, it's my birthday today—get up and blow out the candles!" Confused, she picked up the phone and called her father. “Daddy, did I make Mommy mad? I lit the candles, but no matter how much I call her, she won’t wake up.” On the other end of the call, Patrick Hart’s voice was cold and impatient. “What could possibly be wrong with her? She’s just pretending to be asleep for sympathy. It’s Johnny’s birthday, I’m busy. Don’t bother me! Tell your melodramatic mother to stop playing her little tricks. I don't have time to humor her." My daughter removed the candle from her bun, pinched off a piece of the bun, and fed it to me. "Mommy, I made a secret wish… I really wish you could hold me again, just like before."