Novel & Cerita E-ink Phone

When I started college, my new roommate secretly used my phone to take a selfie. She sent it to the guy I was in an online relationship with and added the caption: [Baby, do you think I'm beautiful?] My boyfriend replied with a giant question mark, followed by a voice message full of curses. "Just thinking about dating someone with that face makes me want to puke!" "Let's break up, you ugly freak. Stay far away from me!" By the time I got out of the shower and tried to explain, I realized he had already blocked me. My roommate, holding her own phone, smugly told me, "The streamer I've had my eye on just added me. He says he wants to start an online relationship." When I looked at the account, I saw it was none other than my ex-boyfriend.

My best friend, Maya, flew in from Miami for my bachelorette week. My last days of freedom. She insisted on a girls' night in to celebrate, ordering all my favorite takeout. She asked me to hold her mobile phone and wait.Then her phone lit up. A message from some guy. A shirtless pic. Text: I need you tonight. Another photo buzzed through. Sex toys. Bondage gear straight out of a movie. My face burned. My heart hammered against my ribs. I’d just stumbled into her secret life. But the next image made my blood run cold. A close-up of the man's chest. A jagged scar I knew better than my own reflection. It belonged to my fiancé, Luciano Carbone.

It was the day Jessica Goldenfold got the International Wealth Club Charity Award. My doctor pronounced me dead, for I could not afford the artificial heart needed for my survival. The show's host asked Jessica to call the one whom she had the most regret about. She called my number. I picked it up. She asked, "Do you ever regret leaving me for money?" I stared at the obscene bill for the artificial heart. Then, I chuckled. "You're a rich girl, Jessica. How about a loan of 30 grand?" She killed the call. I watched her telling everyone in front of the cameras, "No more regrets." She had no idea at all. She had no idea that I was the one who gave my heart to her when she had heart failure. I did it behind her back.

I thought I was walking into a deal. Thirty days to obey him. Please him. Let him own my body in exchange for enough money to breathe again. But Damien Voss doesn’t just want obedience. He wants surrender. Cold. Possessive. Sinfully rich. He doesn’t want a girlfriend, he wants a good girl to break. When he says kneel, I kneel. When he says, “Please, Daddy.” I say it. But I didn’t read the fine print. Hidden cameras. Secret files. A contract with darker clauses than ink can show. And now, what I thought was control has become a cage. I should’ve never signed it. Because Damien Voss doesn’t let go. I’m not just his. I’m Sinfully His.

She built her company from nothing. He built an empire out of breaking others. When eco-tech CEO Elena Grant wakes up to headlines announcing a hostile takeover, she swears she'll never let billionaire tycoon Damian Cross steal more than her business. But the board has other plans: to save the company, they must co-lead for six months. Forced into late-night strategy sessions, high-stakes investor retreats, and press conferences where their smiles are as sharp as their words, Elena and Damian discover a dangerous attraction simmering beneath their rivalry. But Damian has secrets-ones that could destroy Elena's reputation and everything she's fought for. And in a world where deals are signed in ink but sealed behind closed doors, passion may cost them more than either can afford. Enemies. Partners. Lovers? In business, there are rules. In love, there's only risk.

I was at the grocery store stocking up on holiday supplies when my phone suddenly pinged with a friend request. The profile picture was a scenic shot I'd casually snapped years ago, and I knew right away who it was. But we hadn't spoken in five years—total radio silence. I had no idea why Marcello Golden was popping up now, so I typed into the verification field: [What's going on?] His reply flashed up almost instantly: [I'm back. Can we meet? I have something important to tell you in person.] Something important? As I stared at those words, I found the situation both absurd and amusing. What could be so important between us after all this time? I pushed the thought aside, pulled out my phone to scan the payment code for the cashier, and once the transaction was complete, my first action was to block his contact permanently.

"Don't lick there. Not now... My husband's calling..." I answered the phone, my face burning with shame. The husband on the other end of the line had no idea his beloved wife had another man's head between her thighs at that very moment.

Paige got pregnant by a bad boy in high school. Two years later, after many sacrifices and without having any contact other than phone calls, she and the father of her child reunite. Can they live together for the sake of their shared child? Can the bad boy not be so bad?

I spent three hundred dollars on a brand-new phone for my mother, only for her to start saying that the smartphone was stealing her money and that I had personally siphoned off her bank balance. I could never win the argument. So I offered to just reimburse whatever “loss” she imagined. She got even more unhappy. She slapped a stack of receipts on the table and demanded I pay up. “Where did you buy this piece of junk? It’s a ticking time bomb. Give me my money back!” Most of the receipts were for men’s sneakers and athletic wear; the rest were household basics like brooms and hangers. I felt a wave of suffocating frustration. Since when was shopping free? Why was I expected to pay for her? I bought her a new phone, and I just became the ATM? “Fine. If you hate it that much, I’m taking it back to the store.” But she would not let go.

The year was 1983. The sun had set. It was dark outside. Only one dim light was in the Foster family’s living room. “Dad, Mom, I’m willing to live abroad with you.” When they heard their daughter’s words through the phone, Philip York and Angela York were moved to tears of excitement.