Face In Hole Birthday

"Don't you know how to fake a smile anymore? Those irritating little smiles of yours that screamed nothing but desperation? We're making an appearance in front of several high calibre people for goodness sake. You must carry this facade on without any slip, Rosalie.” He said.  My chest pinched, and I looked away, pretending to adjust my bracelet to hide the pain. “I know."  ~                                    ~ “Rosaline...” Ezra murmured. “Why help me to ruin a man you once loved?”   "Why?" I repeated. "Because they took everything from me—the one thing I loved more than life itself. They destroyed my life, my reputation, my happiness, all to serve their own selfish agendas. Him and his mistress. I've been maltreated and betrayed severally, countlessly! But no more. It's my turn to take what I deserve: their pain, their humiliation, their downfall." I paused, my face hardening into an expression of pure, vengeful rage. "And I will make them suffer for it.” *                  *.             * Rosalie’s journey had been a tumultuous one– betrayal and pain. The transactional marriage that she had entered into, hoping one day it would turn around to be a marriage for love, had instead left her heartbroken and betrayed. Her ex- husband’s infidelity, coupled with an unimaginable cruelty that he had subjected her to, had shattered her beyond repair.  Now, fueled by a desire for vengeance, Rosalie had returned to seek revenge on those who had wronged her. Joining forces with her ex-husband's rival, a ruthless business tycoon who harbored his own grudges against her ex-husband, she plotted a scheme that would bring them both justice...and ruin.

By a twist of fate, my husband, Morgan Lancaster, and I perish together in a sea of flames. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the very day we received our marriage certificate. In my previous life, we appeared to be a loving couple in the eyes of others, yet Morgan refused to share a bedroom with me the entire time we were married. It was only moments before our deaths that I discovered I was merely a substitute for his first love and that he had chosen to remain chaste for her for life. After getting another chance at life, neither of us mentions the past. Instead, by mutual understanding, we file for divorce that same day. From that point on, we go our separate ways. Eight years later, Morgan shows up arm in arm with his childhood sweetheart, Freya Springer, at a business summit. He is now a prominent and celebrated rising star in the business world. Seeing me dressed in a plain outfit, he approaches with a glass of champagne. His tone drips with mockery as he asks, "Ms. Smith, even if you still have feelings for me, there's no need to dress like a waitress just to get close to me. You aren't hoping for a reconciliation, are you?" I say nothing and simply smile as I wave at someone in the distance. My son, Theo Coltrane, toddles over and tugs at the hem of my shirt. "Mommy, Daddy says that he's tired from waiting so long. When are you coming home with us?" The smile on Morgan's face freezes instantly, and he nearly loses his grip on the glass in his hand.

"I can't do this no more. I'm leaving you, Rupert Peter Myrie," Tasha said, her heart thudding in her chest. He turned, locking his eyes with hers, but she didn't flinch. Rupert snorted softly, his footsteps slow and deliberate as he approached, each breath husky, each movement heavy until he stood just an inch away. "Tee, you must be really angry for you to be calling me by my full name." "Stick to the point," she said, turning her face from his intimidating gaze. "I want to end things with you." Her voice trembled, but she forced the words out. He closed the space between them. "You want to end things with me?" His voice dropped. "Who teaching you this 'strong woman' crap?" He wrapped his arms around her, gently rocking her and pulling her to his chest. "The only way I'll ever let you leave me... is in a body bag." ****** After escaping a toxic relationship and years of being controlled, Tasha Mackenzie finds herself under the protection of Joseph Grind, America's most feared Mafia boss. He’s cold-blooded. Untouchable. And hiding a secret darker than his empire: he's also the Alpha of the Stinging Vipers werewolf pack. As Tasha is pulled into his dangerous world, she learns the man protecting her has a fiancée he claims is just a business deal. But how can she trust a man feared by an entire country, let alone love him? Can Tasha survive the war between her heart and his secrets... or will loving a monster destroy her for good?

Over the Fourth of July weekend, I took my boyfriend's sister to his flashy new influencer hub. Fresh off brain surgery, Benedetta Griffin needed a break from her recovery, and I hoped the trip would lift her spirits. In the hub, a streamer was hawking a face cream like a carnival barker. "Listen, fam! The boss lady is slashing prices. Get this $3,800 cream for just $398 today!" Benedetta tugged my sleeve. "That cream is bad news." She'd interned at the FDA last summer and could spot a scam from a mile away. "It's packed with steroids. Long-term use will ruin your skin." Driven by her sense of justice, she marched up to the streamer. "You can't sell this unlicensed junk. The steroids exceed legal limits. Pull it from the shelves." Morgan Lamb froze, but then her fake smile twisted into a scowl. "Who the hell are you to trash my product?" Benedetta didn't back down. "You're scamming people, and you know it." Morgan planted her hands on her hips. "I'm the boss lady here. How dare you slander my brand? Nobody leaves until you cough up $500,000 for damages." "Boss lady?" My stomach churned. My boyfriend's sudden venture into the streaming industry now made sense. He was sinking money into this hub to bankroll his lover. I fumbled for my phone to call him, but Morgan was faster. "Babe, get to the hub. Two haters crashed the party, trying to tank our business."

Sometimes kissing the Beast does not turn it into a Prince Charming — instead, he is a fascinating mogul you want topunch.Jules is an ordinary nineteen- span- old omega from a impeccably respectable family. He ’s not the most beautiful, or the smartest, or the strongest of the four Blake siblings. And he ’s fine with it, really. He is n’t unhandsome or anything, but by omega morals, he ’s nothing special. Jane is an ordinary nineteen- span- old omega from a impeccably respectable family. He ’s not the most beautiful, or the smartest, or the strongest of the four Blake ’s. And he ’s fine with it, really. He is n’t unhandsome or anything, but by omega morals, he ’s nothing special. “ Nothing special ” describes Jane ’s whole life. It ’s considerably boring. So when strange paraphernalia start doing in their house, it piques Jane ’s curiosity. There ’s a beast in the Blake family manor; Jane is sure of it. He sometimes hears growls and screams coming from the basement, and the men guarding the door look favorably scared. What could scarify grown mornings? Jules will have to probe! But his probation comes withsurprises.like the Beast's disarming effect on jane's omega nature. It does not mean anything. Of course it doesn't. Jules is just curious; that is all. Curiosity can change a life, but when you are attracted to a feral morning whose real face you have n’t yeaseen.will it change for the better? What if the Beast is no Prince Charming but a cold-hearted, misanthropic bastard? A bastard Jane should not want — but does. A bastard jane should stay out from — but can't

On her first day at work, a new colleague uploaded a 500-million-dollar property purchase agreement to the company group chat. The message was accompanied by the caption: “Thanks for the gift for my first day at work, Dad!” She quickly deleted it, following up with, “Sorry, wrong chat!” I frowned, recognizing the contract immediately. It was the same property my father gifted me for my birthday a month ago. Some sharp-eyed colleagues noticed the contract number and chimed in. “I have a relative in real estate. I remember this property. Our chairman bought it recently!” “So, the heiress has joined us to experience life. Forgive your humble servant for not recognizing you!” The chat was soon filled with flattering remarks. Even my stingy and miserly husband joined in. I felt a coldness in my heart and couldn’t help but respond in the group chat, “I recall the president always opposing ostentatious displays of wealth and advocating humility. This heiress seems to veer away from his usual philosophy.” Instead of support, I faced attacks from my husband and others. “Look at you being so poor and petty. How could you ever compare to Grace? Why did I ever marry someone so shortsighted?” “As if you know the president that well! I think you’re just jealous that Grace was born with a silver spoon!” I sneered coldly and, without hesitation, dialed the president’s number right in front of everyone. “Dad, I heard we’re not that close, hmm?”

A month before the SATs, I, Jenny Reid, could see my score. Literally. It was just floating right above my head. But there was a catch. Every time I cracked open a prep book, my score would drop by ten points. But if I skipped a day of school? It jumped right back up by ten. So, I played the system. For a whole month, I barely lifted a finger. And on the day of the test, the number glowing over my head was a solid 1560. When the scores finally dropped online… I'd scored a 500. And the 1560? That was my little sister Patricia's score. My parents lost it. As punishment, they got me a grueling night-shift job at a local electronics factory. That first night, a bunch of guys I'd never seen before cornered me in the parking lot and beat me half to death. Fading in and out of consciousness, I heard my sister's voice right by my ear. "You just had to one-up me, didn't you? Thought you were so smart… but you never figured out I was the one controlling that number over your head." The truth hit me like a physical blow. The score had been her trick all along. I opened my eyes—and I was back. One month before the SATs. The number above my head read exactly 1300. "Hey," my sister said, all fake sweetness. "Want to study together tonight? We can go over the practice tests." I looked at the stack of papers in my own hands. Without a word, I pulled out my lighter and set them on fire right there in the driveway. "Exams are coming," I said, watching the flames. "I'm not studying." My score ticked up to 1310. My sister's face was this perfect mask of disappointment, but the second I turned away, I caught the sly smile she couldn't quite hide. She had no idea… the real performance, the one I'd been rehearsing just for her, was finally about to begin.

Alexa dreaded her eighteenth birthday, why? On her eighteenth birthday she would officially be Alpha Diaz's Bedwarmer. Living as his slave was one thing but warming his bed every night was another... How could she warm the bed of the man who proclaimed her father a traitor, the one who is responsible for her family death. To others he might be a savior but to her, he is the one she hates with every spit on her tongue. But just on her eighteenth birthday, she was rescued... By an Hybrid Alpha, who turns out to be her mate.

On my eighth Mate-Marking anniversary, I had carefully prepared a special celebration ceremony. My Alpha mate, Derek, told me the pack had an emergency and the ceremony was canceled. When I arrived at the venue, I was shocked to see the ceremony proceeding as planned. Scarlett, once my best friend, was walking hand-in-hand with Derek onto the ceremonial platform. Her daughter and my son were being led by their hands, one child with each adult. The four of them stood closely together while other pack members, unaware of the truth, praised them: "The Alpha of Shadow Pack and his mate look so happy together." I stood up in the crowd and applauded: "I didn't know Shadow Pack had replaced their Luna with an Omega. They make such a perfect couple." The next moment, Scarlett's face turned pale as she collapsed on the platform. I ignored the chaos and walked straight home. The following day, Derek stormed back home and confronted me: "Scarlett's condition has barely improved. Why did you have to provoke her?" My son pushed me and accused: "It's all your fault! You made little Emma cry!" I pulled out the mate-bond dissolution agreement and threw it in their faces: "Yes, it's my fault. So I'm stepping out. Now you four can be one happy family." But my mate and son suddenly began to panic.

Before my mother passed away, the person she most wanted to see was her beloved son-in-law, Anthony Brosnan. She supported Anthony financially for five years, and the latter started his own business after graduating. At that time, I accidentally walked into his office and instantly fell in love with him at first sight. However, Anthony changed after three years of marriage and fell in love with his secretary. I called him over a dozen times, and it was the secretary who picked up the phone. "Anthony is cooking right now. Do you need something?" Just as I was about to speak, my mother overheard the voice. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and she passed away filled with resentment. Anthony, since I had lost my mother, you meant nothing to me anymore.