Floor Wax White

Three years ago, Ivy Valmonte married Julian Blackwood to save her family from ruin. The night before the wedding, she let Sebastian ruin her instead, on the marble floor of the wine cellar while the rehearsal dinner carried on upstairs. It never stopped. Stolen nights in hotel suites, quick and brutal sex in the back of limousines, whispered threats and promises while Julian slept down the hall. They hated each other for it. They lived for it. Now Julian is dead, the will has been read, and the empire is split: 60% to Ivy. 40% to Sebastian. Only one of them can gain interest. Only one of them can destroy the other. They declare war in boardrooms by day, and tear each other apart in bed by night, because some addictions are stronger than hate, and some secrets are worth killing for. Love was never the problem. It was the price.

"Alex... help… please…" I tried to whisper, but no sound came out. I saw them, Alexander had his arms wrapped around Sophia, who was clutching him like her life depended on it. She was pressed against his chest, her face buried in his neck, and she wasn't letting go. "Don't look at her," Sophia whispered loudly. "You'll only make yourself sick with guilt. This isn't your fault. She did this to herself by being dramatic." That's when I heard the scream. "Oh my God! Mrs. Sterling!" Rosa, one of our housemaids, came rushing into the dining room. "Mrs. Sterling, what happened to you?" Rosa dropped to her knees beside me, her hands fluttering over my body like she didn't know where to start. "You're bleeding! There's so much blood everywhere!” I was bleeding? I couldn't feel anything below my waist anymore, but when I managed to glance down, I saw the dark stain spreading across my dress. "Mr. Alexander!" Rosa shouted, her voice cracking with an anger I’ve never seen in her before. She looked ready to commit murder. Did I look that bad? “Your wife is dying! How can you do this to her? How can you stand there holding another woman while your wife bleeds to death on the floor?!" Rosa snarled. "Rosa, lower your voice," Alexander snapped, but I could hear something different in his tone. Uncertainty. "Take Ivy to the hospital and stop making a scene, or you'll be looking for another job." Rosa shot back, tears streaming down her face. "¡Sos un bueno para nada! What kind of man are you?" I was going to die. Right here on my dining room floor, wearing my mother's blood-stained dress while my husband comforted another woman.

“There is nothing to think about.” I said, with an edge to my voice. “You may be right, but this doesn't change anything. I'm not returning to that pack.” “Then we all are going to die.” he said, with ice in his voice. “Including you.” ***************** Following the revelation of a century year old prophecy, the fate of the White Moon pack lies on the decision of a twenty-one-year-old — Clary Tompkins. Will she return to save the pack who betrayed her? Or would she leave them to suffer an awful fate that could bring their end?

Sasha Stone has been sheltered her entire life. At the age of 18, Sasha has seen very little of the world. After convincing her overprotective parents that she needs some royal duties, she is finally allowed to leave pack lands. Sasha's tour of America's pack begins in White Crest, where her parents feel she will be the safest. Sasha soon realizes her parents were wrong. She isn't safe; her heart isn't.

Building an empire comes first. Or it did until I met her. My family’s billion-dollar hotel chain has been my life for as long as I can remember. Travel. Women. Wealth. That’s all I know, until fate grabs me by the throat and decides to not let up. She’s a beach body, a beautiful, curvy California girl who hasn't found the right person to give into yet. I would have felt the same, but something about her has me pacing the floor at night. And my father sent me out to her hotel specifically. The sly dog knowing that she’s exactly the woman I need in my future. But it’s not that easy. It never is. Not until our love produces a little one. Then everything changes. Especially me. Now I want more than just one night. I want forever.

"HELLO MASTER" I screamed as I dropped the book on floor "PLEASE, DO NOT BE FRIGHTENED. I COME TO SERVE WHOEVER THE BOOK CHOSES" Wow, I think I'm going crazy, I don't know which is more weird, the words magically appearing on the pages ot the fact that the book just turned itself over... "THE ANCIENT BOOK HAS HELPED MANY GET THEIR DESIRED ONCE UPON A TIME AND HAPPY ENDINGS. TAKE THE TEST IF YOU DARE" She had a perfect life, a perfect family, perfect friends, perfect grades. Everything she could ever want. But all that is at risk of going up in flames. What happens when a teenage girl is chosen not only to save our world but dimensions that have only ever existed in book. She must remember that what she wants doesn't always mater until it matters where it's needed the most

"Stop... Don't! I'm already at my limit!" I'm on my knees on the floor, tears streaming down my face, while a shirtless man stands in front of me with a leather whip in his hand. His voice stays gentle, but his movements never slow. "Babe, we're only halfway there." After I come back from the dead, I spend 80 million dollars hiring the most expensive male model in all of Navarro to spend the night with me. With that kind of money on the table, the service absolutely lives up to its price. He pulls out every trick I've never tried in my life. The next morning, I'm sitting astride him, using him as my morning workout, when suddenly there's one more person in the room. My husband, the Don of a mafia family, Leone Vieri.

In the sixth year of my marriage with Zach Elroy, his workplace finally allocated us a small, two-room flat. I was overjoyed. I told our daughter she would finally have a bed of her own. But Zach said coldly, "This room is for Jennifer and her daughter. You and Kathy can keep sleeping on the floor." In my past life, we fought bitterly over it. He eventually gave in. But while I was away on a work trip, he went back on his word. He brought Jennifer Cross into our home and made our daughter, Kathy, sleep on the floor. That night, when Kathy came down with a high fever and cried out that she felt sick, he was reading Jennifer and her daughter a bedtime story. Our daughter passed away that night. Now, in this life, I calmly laid out the bedding on the floor and said, "Whatever."

I died in the year my husband hated me most. Unable to endure his endless silent treatment any longer, I swallowed a bottle of pills and ended my life. At the crematorium, watching the flames roar inside the furnace, he allowed himself a rare smile. “Someone as vile as her doesn’t deserve to be laid to rest whole.” So when the staff handed him the urn, he flipped it over. My ashes scattered across the floor in an instant. All this time, he had believed I was responsible for the death of his first love. That belief was why he had schemed and plotted for years, all for this precise moment of final desecration. When it was over, he stepped over my ashes and walked away without looking back. Though not long after that, he fell to his knees and begged the crematorium to give my ashes back to him.

I had been with the company for eleven years. One day, the boss’ son was abruptly planted as my immediate superior. In order to establish his power, he started to humiliate me. He splashed coffee on my face in front of our client. “Why are you serving our most prestigious client this nasty drink? You’re embarrassing the company!” I was furious. However, I held my anger back for the sake of the company. During our townhall meeting, he threw my proposal to the floor. “We’re not an old folks’ home. We don’t take care of useless pieces of shit like you.” I did not leave the next day. Instead, I asked my personal assistant to publish a notice on the digital display at our office building. [Due to the tenant’s unstable emotions, the lease on the 17th floor of this office building will not be renewed when it expires next month.]