Everything I Need Lyrics

At the company holiday party raffle, I'd barely stepped on stage when my superior, Victor Grant, shoved a crumpled slip into my hand. "Special prize for our top sales guy. Go on, open it. Let's show everyone." All eyes were on me as I unfolded it. Scrawled across the paper: [VIP janitor status unlocked—every toilet in the company, three days.] The room lost it—laughter everywhere. Victor crossed his arms, grinning. "Fair, right? Everyone knows you climbed the ranks hooking up with rich cougars. Gotta avoid hard feelings for the others, yeah? While the rest of us take a break, you can get busy. You're not gonna back out, are you?" The crowd cracked up. My girlfriend—and CEO—Rachel Sullivan stood off to the side, watching. Didn't say a word. Everyone waited for me to explode. Instead, I just nodded. Next day, over 300 refund requests hit. Cash flow flatlined. Victor and Rachel begged me to talk the buyers down. I shrugged. "Nah. Don't wanna save the company and make my performance too good. That'd just cause more ' hard feelings,' right?"

Entering a one-sided love isn't easy, especially if the relationship you have is only for a business. "Why do you have to be alive?" My lips loosened up as I sensed the bitterness in his voice. It is as if he hates my existence so much that he has to do something for me to be gone already. "Why do you even need to be existed in this fucking world if you're just going to ruin my life!" Ciara Hilvano is an innocent and martyr wife who always gets violated by her husband and makes her feel that she's an unwanted wife. This guy really doesn't have any idea that the girl he was hurting and almost killed everyday was secretly suffering from the cancer in heart. The time came when Ciara's life was in big trouble. She almost died because someone tried to threaten her life. What if Ciara can no longer cope with the challenges and trials of her life? What if she just let her own death fetch her? Will Tyron regret all the things he did to Ciara? What if Ciara dies? Will he cry?

After my husband, Joseph Adams, hired thugs to smash my taco stand again, I pushed the destroyed remains to his company’s anniversary banquet. Joseph had his arm around his little secretary, Monica Martin, when he announced that she would soon be joining the company’s management team. I pressed the horn and called out, “Tacos for sale to support my husband’s mistress—three thirty a piece!” Amid the stunned and bewildered stares of the crowd, Joseph’s brows twisted into a deep frown.

On the day of my wedding gown fitting, a stranger burst into the VIP suite and stabbed me with a knife. “You think you deserve a dress this expensive after stealing someone else’s man?” She tore at the delicate fabric of my skirt. Then, with a twisted smile, she hurled a bottle of acid at me. The blade was buried in my lower abdomen. The pain drove me to my knees. She grabbed my hair and yanked my head up. “Gerald’s my husband! What are you? You’re nothing but a mistress who can’t even be seen with him in public!” Blood dripped down my fingers. That was when it finally sank in. The man I had been with for seven years had been keeping another woman by his side. “What’re you staring at? Even if I kill you, with my husband’s influence, no one will dare touch me!” Staring at her smug face, I pulled out my phone with hands slicked in blood and called my brother. “Matt…” My voice was unnervingly calm. “Come pick me up at the bridal shop. And please inform the Hoover family that the engagement is off.”

For six years of marriage, Cyran Valehart and I lived with measured respect, as if we were partners holding the same scale in perfect balance. For the sake of my equestrian career, I refused to have children. He shouldered the gossip, endured the judgment, and stood beside me without hesitation. But when I rode into what should have been my final international competition, he went back home with his first love—her hand resting protectively over her swollen belly. "All these years, you chose the horses over me," he spat. "That damned competition meant more to you than our family ever did." His voice shook with righteous anger, but his next words cut far deeper. "Six years ago, I abandoned Celia once. Now she carries my child. I won't betray her again." In that instant, my marriage became nothing but a title. I was reduced to a wife in name only, a figurehead in his home, a shadow he no longer cared to see. During the very competition meant to crown my life's work, Cyran laced a sharp needle beneath my saddle, each stride of my horse a fresh stab of pain meant to break us both. I lost the match. My horse collapsed with a shattered leg. And in that fall, my dream and my marriage were crushed together—ruined by the very man who once swore to protect them. Later, he paid with everything he had, desperate to make amends. But no matter what he sacrificed, Cyran Valehart was already behind me, nothing more than a ghost I would never turn to face again.

On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, all three of my fiancés showed up with the worst reports from their family-run businesses. My father had declared that I would marry the one who could bring the greatest benefit to our family. However, all three of them had already fallen for a penniless scholarship girl named Amelia Jones, and none of them wanted me. In my previous life, I kept them close, mentored them, and poured my resources into helping them rise. By the time they had each become powerful men in my family, they repaid me by framing my father, getting him arrested, and making him age more than 10 years overnight. He was dragged to prison. Me? They hired a crew of street thugs to brutalize me, leaving me to die while my private photos spread across the internet. As life slipped away, I heard their sneering voices: "Did you really think we ever liked you? Everything we did was for Amelia." "If you hadn't chained us to your side, we'd have married her long ago, we'd have a house full of kids by now!" "You and your father ruined her future. She couldn't afford college because of you. She had no choice but to jump!" Then I opened my eyes: reborn on the very day of my coming-of-age ceremony. I pulled my father aside, looked him in the eye, and said, "I'm an adult now. Throw them out. Strip them of every business and every asset we gave them." "I'm not choosing any of them. I chose Bruce Sullivan, the Don of the Sullivan family."

In Reychelle City, a contest was held to crown the most beautiful woman. After my cousin scarred my face, she seized first place with ease. What she never expected was that this year's contest wasn't for fame; it was to select the future wife of the Third Prince, a ruthless, bloodthirsty eunuch. That very afternoon, gifts poured in by the cartload. My betrothed panicked. That night, he tore up our engagement contract and carried my cousin into the bridal chamber. The next day, she trailed her lacquered fingertips across my cheek and sneered, "Alicia, with your ruined face, who would ever want you? Perhaps the beggar at the street corner might take you in." I caught her wrist, let out a cold laugh, and said, "Who told you I would marry a beggar?" Before her stunned eyes, I pushed open my parents' chamber doors. "Mom, since Maggie doesn't wish to be the prince's consort… let me take her place." Three years later, before the eyes of a shocked court, the Third Prince entered the grand hall with me at his side, with two children in tow. No one had foreseen it. This body of mine, blessed with the rarest gift of fertility, was the perfect match for a man believed incapable of siring heirs.

"Genie" His voice was barely a whisper, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. "This is so wrong, we can't be doing this." His lips find their way back to mine, trailing the bottom lip with his tongue. "So so wrong" He pulled my lower lips in, biting on them. I stifled a moan. "I know," I managed to say. I could feel the warm slickness ache between my legs. "We shouldn't be doing this. You're my step brother." My body doesn't agree with what my mouth is saying. I snuggled closer into his chest wanting to feel the heat of his bare body against mine. I want his mouth against mine, ravaging me like he had done before. We have gone too far to back out now. "Take me, Ryder" Those were the words he needed. Only those three words. Suddenly, he grips the back of my thighs and lifts me up, forcing my legs to wrap around him. Planting me against the wall, he peers up and look straight into my eyes "You're mine" Then his lips came down on mine. I'm yours. I whispered back in the back of my head. ******** Ryder Saint, for years, has bullied me. Reasons? None. It was like he signed a contract from heaven to make my life hell. From the moment he set his eyes on me, he added my name to his list. Don't be fooled by his last name. It's a charade, he's not anything like it. Everything about Ryder Saint smells evil. His heart, dark. His soul, dark. His aura, dark. Except his face. I should have neglected him like I always have, but I couldn't when our parents decided to tie the knots and he became my stepbrother. He and I, under the same roof.

Abandoned by her wicked stepmother and thrown out into the cold dark night with her newborn baby, Mara is hopeless and faces certain death... until a good Samaritan comes to rescue her. Leo is the handsome young billionaire that becomes Mara's savior. Against the wishes of his wife, he provides Mara and her baby everything they need. Eventually, fate brings Mara and Leo even closer together. As each day passes by, they find it harder and harder to deny the feelings they have for each other. But where will it all lead to? Can a married CEO fall in love with a young single mother?

During the tenth year I had a crush on Ron, I was diagnosed with advanced stomach cancer. With a critically ill notice in hand, I stood at the door to the room where my former classmates gathered, and I heard Ron holding his crush and cooing at her, “Just ignore it. Willow has been bothering me for ten years. If there was even a possibility of us getting together, we would have done so a long time ago. Honestly, I would never like her. Even if she continues bothering me for another ten or twenty years, I still won’t like her.” My former classmates cheered, and Ron looked like he was about to kiss her. I stood at the door and cried so hard that I trembled, but I did not dare make a sound. Ron, I would not be able to bother you for another twenty years. I was about to die.