Fifteen Hundred

My wife, Vivian Lane, is the wealthiest woman. Her assistant had made it clear he had three "do-not-disturb" rules: no messages after work, no calls on weekends, and absolutely no contact when he was in a bad mood. Because of this, the company lost a major deal—one worth over a hundred million. Yet the assistant looked completely unbothered. "Sorry, I had no idea one phone call could make such a difference. If something goes wrong and I have to be the one to take the blame, fine—I'm just another cog in the machine." My wife snapped, "Who said anything about blaming you? You did exactly what you were told." She shot me a look of pure irritation. "You take the profits from the project, and when things fall apart, you dump it on the regular employees? Is that how you run a business? If your company folds over something this small, it just proves you're not fit to be in charge." It suddenly clicked, and I let out a quiet laugh. So she thought this project belonged to my company? I didn't bother correcting her. To be honest, I couldn't really hold it against her—after all, it wasn't my company going under.

To "fix" Leonard Rinehart's oh-so-tragic depression, Naomi Gaffron—yeah, the same girl who once swore she'd only ever marry me—secretly tied the knot with him. So I gave in. Played along with the family's little matchmaking stunt. Married Aurelia Spencer—Brieton City's golden girl who'd been obsessed with me since forever. For seven years, she clung to me like I was oxygen. Every night, curled up like she'd break if I moved. I thought that was happiness. Then one night, I caught her whispering to her best friend: "Leonard's already got international awards. When are you dumping Leone?" "Whatever—I'm stuck with someone I don't love anyway. Doesn't matter who I married. Someone's gotta keep an eye on Leone so he doesn't screw up everything Leonard built." I checked her study. Found a hidden folder—over 100,000 photos of Leonard. A hundred unsent love letters. Even I couldn't fake it anymore. Bought a silicone dummy. Laid out the plan. The fire would be step one. Dead or alive—we're done.

"Marry him, Valentina. Or watch Klaus bleed out on this floor." My father's words were ice in my veins. I had defied Don Moretti a hundred times his cold eyes, his iron grip on everything I loved. But this time, Klaus was on his knees with a gun to his head, and love was no longer a luxury I could afford. Valentina Greco is fierce, reckless and unapologetically herself the rebellious daughter of a powerful mafia boss who wants nothing more than to choose her own fate. But fate in the mafia world is rarely yours to choose. Don Luca Moretti is ruthless, commanding and dangerously possessive. He wants Valentina and what the Don wants, he takes. I saved Klaus the only way I could. I married his enemy. I shared his bed. And I carried a secret that could burn everything to the ground because the son Moretti calls his own has another man's blood running through his veins. For years I've buried it. Survived it. Then Klaus returned powerful, dangerous and hungry to reclaim what was stolen from him. Now I'm caught between the Don who owns my name and the man who owns my heart. How long before one of them discovers the truth about Viktor?  

I've been caught in a relationship with a divorced man for eight years. We've broken up and reconciled too many times to count. In the end, I tallied ninety-four breakups and five divorces between us. One more would make it an even hundred, but I'm too exhausted to continue this cycle. The first breakup happened when I was giving him my virginity. Halfway through, his ex-wife called asking him to pick up some bread, and he simply left. The fifth breakup occurred when he abandoned me, newly pregnant, on the highway to comfort his ex-wife who was having complications with her own pregnancy. I ended up in a car accident and miscarried. He arrived at the hospital with his clothes disheveled. Despite all the pain he caused me, I could never bring myself to truly leave him. Our most recent divorce happened for an equally absurd reason. His ex-wife and their child were participating in a family reality TV show that required them to appear as a complete family unit. To protect his ex-wife's public image, he divorced me yet again. When filming wrapped, he called to discuss remarrying. This time I refused, because I'm going to marry someone else.

My best friend and my husband, Lorenzo Bartoli, fought every time they met. Lorenzo was the Don of the family, while my best friend was his Consigliere. She always fiercely opposed his most ruthless, high-risk decisions. Tempers explode every single time. But there was one rule that they both agreed on without any hesitation. No one was allowed to touch me. Because of them, no one in the city dared to cross me. Until the fifth month of my pregnancy, when I went down to the basement vault to organize Lorenzo's guns for him. I opened the safe to see stacks of letters, hundreds of them, all unsent. I picked one up. The moment I opened the letter, cold dread overwhelmed me. The receiver of the letter wasn't me. [My dearest Sofia…] I quickly scanned downward to the final lines of the letter. [If I don't make it back alive, everything in the Swissie accounts goes to you. As for Vittoria, she's a good woman, but I have never loved her.] With trembling hands, I tore open the rest of the letters like a hysterical woman. Three hundred of them in total. Every single one was addressed to Sofia Finzi. Sofia was not a stranger. She was my best friend.

Hera is not your typical girl. While most are likely to expose their face, she prefers to cover it with her hair. Friends? She doesn’t have those. You can say she’s anti-social and nearly a psychopath. But that’s not the weirdest thing about her. It is the fact that no one has heard her voice ever since she entered the orphanage that makes her the subject of gossip. On top of which, she lost the will to study, owing for her marks to barely reach the passing score. The funny this is, despite being dumb, the president of Sagkahan High invites her over to their school with a full scholarship. It is a prestigious institution that only accepts exceptional students whose IQ exceeds a hundred and fifty. She never likes the sound of it, though. It’s so fishy. It’s until she wakes up in an entirely different body that her disposition changes. What’s more is she’s inside the president’s daughter. As it turns out, the school knows her better than she is to herself. It makes her wonder why they collect her information when she’s just a mere orphan. Along with the goal of comprehending the secret of that body transfer, she enters this school and rose to become the most intelligent student. Things will only become more interesting from there.

Three years ago, she ruthlessly dumped her penniless boyfriend in order to repay her mother’s gambling debt of eight hundred thousand dollars；Three years later, during a punishment game, she kissed the most dangerous man in the bar—never expecting their fates to intertwine once more.Broad Ramsden.The ex-boyfriend she had abandoned was now the all-powerful godfather of the mafia.“Evelyn, the score between us isn’t settled yet.”He cornered her in the booth, his eyes bloodthirsty and deranged.She thought he would kill her.But instead, he trapped her by his side—giving her the best job, the most expensive clothes, the gentlest shelter—and also the cruelest humiliation.“Don’t reject me. You know it hurts you to leave me.”When he took her hand and placed it over his heart, she realized—He hated her, yet he couldn’t let her go more than he hated her.And the secret she had buried deep in her heart for three years was enough to destroy everything.He thought she was greedy for wealth and status; she thought he was consumed by hatred.But the truth—it seemed, wasn’t what either of them believed.How would they face the love they once had?

This is the sequel to Billionaire, Let's Divorce! and if you want to read on, head on over to my book Billionaire, Let's Divorce! and the subsequent chapters will be updated there. Thank you for your support! My heart rammed in my chest as each picture looked clearer than the previous one. I could swear my vision almost went blurry for a split second staring down at the screen. I zoomed in on the man's face, refusing to believe that the man who looked delirious as he mouthed the woman's boobs was my man. There were over a hundred different angles of him having sex with with this woman, and Aiden's face was AS CLEAR AS DAY! Then I threw my head back and laughed shakily. Definitely not. It could never be true. The last thing Aiden will do is cheat. Aiden, a cheater? Nah. He would rather say it to my face that he didn't want me anymore. Which wasn't even possible because we are both crazily in love with each other. I turned off my phone and looked ahead. Just a few more feet and I would be on his lawn. Since I am here, why don't I go find out myself then?

“That video in the group chat was filmed in your bridal suite, wasn’t it?” one of the women asked with a grin. “Sleeping around right under Adela’s nose? That’s bold.” Lorenzo leaned back, swirling his drink, looking pleased with himself. “Yes.” “I used to be too sick to do half the things I wanted,” he said, tapping his chest. “After the transplant, I realized spending the rest of my life with only one lover would be a waste.” The room erupted. He let them laugh, then added, “I set myself a goal. One hundred places before the wedding. Once it’s over, I’ll settle down. After that, my body and my marriage belong to Adela.” More laughter. More glasses raised. I stood outside the door with one hand pressed hard against my chest, where an artificial heart kept beating. Lorenzo never knew I had learned his language. He also never knew that I had already discovered he was keeping Vera—our wedding’s mistress of ceremonies—behind my back. And because he had hidden something from me, I had hidden something from him. I had already booked an assisted death service overseas.

No one gets to understand Nigerian 419 scam until you`re caught in their dragnet. This story will blow your mind. Franck Dubila and family decided to celebrate the established health of his son Anthony (Junior) in their home in Makepeville. All was going on great, till the moment the story of ‘ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND dollars’ secret gift from grandpa to his grandson sets in. Opening a Pandora box, as 419ers got hold of the intelligence. Thus, provoking, a wanton appetite, as they hatched out a diabolic plan to harvest the money by all cost. But, unfortunately for them, the Machiavellic plan only gave birth to a collateral damage in the course. As little Anthony is caught in a ghastly motor accident during the process changing the face of the whole game. When Franck is whispered the truth at the hospital, that, it was all conmen at their art, it created a tsunami in his spirit seeing the situation in which his son was in. Where he took the most dangerous decision which is to revenge his son`s comatose state. By plunging himself into a bloody manhunt against one of the deadliest 419 cabal of Makepeville. But, will he be up to the stakes, will he be able to hide his plans from his entire family, will he be human enough to forgive the person who betrayed him and his son? For sure, blood will flow and hard decisions will follow.