Electric Wax Melt Warmer

Emily an average girl who wallows in debt, deperately accepts a nanny job offer to save her comatose father. “You start first thing tomorrow morning. Don’t be late. But before that,” Ryan paused bringing out a white sheet of paper from his desk wardrobe. “You have to sign this and you’ll be staying here 24/7.” This single act led her to finding out secrets she could never had imagined. Join Emily cater on her love roller coaster as she tries to navigate her way into her boss past.

I was a top-tier heart surgeon. The kind they gave a government-issued black SUV with diplomatic plates—armored, red-light-skipping, cleared-for-anything kind of ride. I parked it at my fiancé Marco Varonetti's place so he could keep it in shape. Bad call. One day, I got an emergency call: heart transplant for the Chancellor—yeah, that Chancellor, the one with state secrets ticking inside him. I rushed over to Marco's to grab the car. Right as I was about to leave, some rando slid into the back seat like she owned it. "Mall first. I need a mani," she barked. "Then get the ice cream Marco ordered. If it melts, I'll kill you." Excuse me? "This is my car," I said, trying to stay chill. "I've got a critical airport run. You need to get out." She rolled her eyes. "You're just the driver. Open those eyes and check the plate." Then the maid chimed in. "Everyone knows Mr. Varonetti takes Ms. Caro out in this car. Nobody says a word." I froze. Marco used my federally issued SUV... to chauffeur her? This wasn't just messy. This was criminal.

I check on family businesses in the countryside with my girlfriend, Mildred McClure, in tow. At noon, we stop by my uncle, Barron Cortez's, place for a simple lunch. Just as we are getting ready to leave, his new wife, whom he married just six months ago, Hilda Ross, rushes out and demands that we settle the bill. "Elden, you two just had the Supreme Farmhouse Set Meal, which is 1,888.80 dollars, and your girlfriend picked three organic, pesticide-free tomatoes in the garden. That's 199.80 dollars. "With an 80% service charge, your total comes to 3,800 dollars." Mildred is stunned. "Elden, do we have to pay to eat at your uncle's place?" I start to feel embarrassed, and my expression darkens as I look at Hilda, my supposed aunt, who's barely any older than me. "I've grown up eating at my uncle's place and never paid a single penny. Besides, your prices are downright outrageous!" Hilda calmly whips out a price menu and righteously declares, "That's all ancient history. Now, we're running a farmhouse business where all prices are clearly marked, so everyone pays the same rate. "Barron said you're some big boss in the city. Surely you're not going to stiff us over a little bill, are you?" She steps in front of the gate to block the exit with her body and shoots me a contemptuous look. "Even family settles their accounts. If you don't pay up today, don't even dream about stepping through this door!" While Mildred panics, I laugh in disbelief before taking out my phone and dialing Barron's number. "Uncle Barron, Hilda wants to settle accounts between family, so don't you think it's time we settled our accounts too?"

Ang sabi nila, ang pinakamasayang tao ang pinakamalungkot sa lahat. That they are faking their happiness. That even they are alive, they are dying deep inside. All I can see is my pain. My anger towards her. She's the cause of my loneliness. I lost the love of my life because of her. Why should I care? She deserves it anyway. But little did I know, she's dying deep within. I've hurt her. All I did was give her pain. Ipinamukha ko sa kanya na kailanman ay hindi ko siya mamahalin. Little by little, I am killing her. I took out her shine. Her bright smile. Her own life. I've crushed her heart. Michelle is like a flower, slowly withering without my notice. Melting my heartless heart is her only option.

My husband, Joaquin Landon, is a renowned wax sculptor. He hangs up on me when I call him to save my life so he can focus on the wax sculpture his cousin wants. Amphetamine is injected into my system, so my mind is clear as I watch my nails get removed one by one. Every inch of my skin is covered in burning hot wax. My hair and lashes are plucked off, and my organs are ground. Steel pipes are inserted into my legs, and I'm turned into a wax sculpture. Joaquin sees me during an exhibition. His colleague tells him that the wax sculpture he sees looks eerily like me, but he merely looks disgusted. "All she does is cause trouble and act unreasonably. She's better off dead." What he doesn't know is that I already am. Joaquin doesn't recognize that I'm the wax sculpture before him.

In the high-stakes world of Thorne Global, Julian Thorne is a man who calculates every move, valuing cold efficiency over the unpredictability of human emotion. But one night at a high-society masquerade ball, his world is upended by a magnetic encounter with a woman in a silver mask. Elena Vance, posing as her twin sister Layla to settle a family debt, never intended for their anonymous connection to become anything more than a single, electric memory. The illusion shatters two months later when Elena discovers she is pregnant. Before she can find a way to tell the mystery man from the ball, Julian finds her. He believes she is Layla—the social climber he once despised—and is stunned by the "new," grounded woman standing before him. When the truth of the pregnancy comes to light, Julian demands a contractual cohabitation to protect his legacy, unaware that the woman he is falling for is living under a stolen identity. As the pregnancy progresses, the ice around Julian’s heart begins to melt, but the web of lies Elena has spun grows increasingly fragile. Between a blackmailing debt collector, a vengeful twin sister, and corporate rivals looking for any sign of weakness, the stakes have never been higher. When Elena finally confesses her true identity, the fallout is catastrophic, forcing them both to decide if their connection was built on a lie or something far more enduring.

Blurb. The candle tilted in his hand, a drop of wax falling onto her breast. She gasped, arching, but he held her down with a firm grip on her hip. “Too much?” he asked, his lips brushing her ear. Her breath shook. “No…” Another drop slid lower. She whimpered, thighs pressing together. “Open for me,” he said, voice low but steady. She obeyed, shivering. “Luca…” He smirked, dragging his tongue over the hardened wax. “Not Luca.” She tried so hard not to say the words, but the wax kept on dropping on her skin, his touch against her body was nothing to write home about. Her cheeks flushed. “Daddy…” “That’s better,” he whispered, another drop marking her skin. “Say it again.” Her nails dug into his shoulders as she moaned. “Daddy.” ****** She's 21 and he's 39. Sold at an auction, Mirabelle never expected her buyer to be Luca DeLuca—the most feared mafia heir in the country. Luca had bought her for a different reason, but didn't imagine he'd keep her. Their marriage was supposed to be a lie, a deal for power and just to deceive his father. But his touch burns, his jealousy cuts deep, and every night with him pulls her closer to danger and to a love she swore she’d never feel.

She was reborn soft, sweet, and touched — surrounded by women who never learned to let go. Evangeline “Eva” Claire Maxwell — Lioré was once a brilliant, overworked woman from a cold, futuristic world. When exhaustion finally claimed her, she didn’t expect to wake up as a baby in the arms of luxury — a second chance in a modern world where time moved slower, kisses came warmer, and desire wore velvet gloves. In a world without magic, desire is its own spell. And love? It’s the most dangerous kind of possession.

Broken by her ex-boyfriend, Catherine Myers built a strong wall around herself against men. What happens when Ace De Sylvano walks into her life and slowly breaks every single wall she built, he succeeded in making her fall so helplessly in love with him, just when Catherine thought she already met her Mr right, he said to her. "I'm sorry you're just a bet, a bed warmer and a useless past I want to get rid of"

On the way home during the holidays, my fiance's sister-in-law, Pamela Kensington, brings out an electric pot that requires 2,000 watts in order to function so that she can cook some meatballs. "The sockets in the electric car are meant for us to use, no? If we can't have hot food during our trips, then what's the use of having an electric car in the first place?" My fiance, Mason Vance, who is driving, doesn't bother to stop Pamela. Instead, he helps her fill up the pot with water while smiling. In my previous life, I had strictly stopped them from cooking meatballs and told them that we didn't have enough power left in the electric car. If they were to cook the meatballs, the car would stop in the middle of the journey, and we wouldn't be able to make it home. Pamela, who tagged along for the ride, thought that I refused to let her son have a piping hot meal, so she began criticizing me. Mason, on the other hand, thought that I was being too much of a busybody. He slapped me in front of everyone before pushing me out of the car. I was frozen to the bone in the blizzard as I watched everyone else leave me behind happily. In the end, I died from hypothermia. When I woke up again, I realized I'd returned to the moment when Pamela is about to plug the electric pot into the socket. This time, I hand her a power strip. "Go ahead and use this power strip. It can channel more power for your meatballs to cook quickly."