Gavel And Hammer

Upon hearing about my husband's surgery, I braved a typhoon and torrential rain, driving four hours back to the city. When I arrived at the hospital, my husband, Xander Gray, was lying on the hospital bed, calling out loudly, "I want my wife! Get my wife here!" His buddies around him joked about how his wife had him completely whipped. Everyone said he loved me to death. Blushing, I walked over with a happy smile and held his hand, saying, "I'm here." To my surprise, he shook off my hand in disgust and snarled, "Get lost! You're not my wife! My wife is Beverly Long!"

In my tenth year of marriage, my old childhood friend, Joshua Sears, posts a photo on social media. Both Joshua and my wife, Sabrina Lawson, are hugging his son, Andy Sears, and my daughter, Tiana Jenkins, in it. The four of them look very close to each other. The caption accompanying the post says, "Blessed to have the perfect son and daughter." I leave a comment below the post, saying, "Looking good together." A few seconds later, the post is deleted. The next morning, Sabrina rushes home and yells at me. "Ashton Jenkins! Joshua was finally feeling better for once. Why did you have to trigger him again?" Tiana shoves me hard and snaps in an accusatory tone, "It's all your fault that Andy's crying now!" I take out a copy of the divorce agreement and slam it down before them. "Yes, it's all my fault. That's why I'm stepping out of the picture now. Then, the four of you can form the wholesome family you've always wanted."

I took my in-laws to our place for Christmas without telling my wife. It was supposed to be a surprise, but the moment George, my father-in-law, stepped into the house, my wife's assistant shoved him. He crashed into the shoe cabinet and threw out his back. "Ms. Sampson's villa doesn't let homeless people in. I can't believe you're her father-in-law. Look at you. Even a homeless guy wears better than you." I told the maid to hold George, but the male assistant stopped me again. He even shoved my mother-in-law, Diane. "You think you own this place? That's Ms. Sampson's maid. It's enough she has to serve a leech like you. You don't get to make her serve your parents." The fury consumed Diane whole, and she had a heart attack. I called my wife and asked her to come to the hospital. Wendy Sampson, however, shrugged it off. Scoffing, she said, "Zack told me everything. I can't believe you brought your parents to my house! And you want me to see your mother? She's faking her heart attack! I know she is! I want them out of my house! So what if they die? Best Christmas gift I could ever hope for."

My once best friend posted a photo on her social media account on the tenth anniversary of my marriage. In the photo, her daughter and my son were wrapped in my husband's and her arms. The caption said, 'The perfect pair.' I commented, 'Perfect indeed.' Soon, the post was deleted. The next day, my husband rushed home and asked me, "Sophie is finally recovering. Why are you provoking her?" My son even pushed me and accused me, "It's all your fault for making Tammy cry." I took out the divorce papers and threw them in their faces. "Well, it's my fault, so I quit your perfect family of four."

For eight years, I stayed by John Harlem's side, even without a title. I was there when he recovered and rose from his wheelchair, and I was there when he clawed his way out of depression. I thought that one day, if I endured long enough, he would see my sincerity and affection for him. And we might end up together. But when his first love returned to the country, all my hopes turned into delusions. He told me to put away feelings I should never have had and remain by his side as nothing more than his "sister". For her, he deceived me, humiliated me, and pushed me away. What he never knew was that in helping him heal, I had absorbed far too much of his darkness. The very day he stopped taking his medication, I was diagnosed with severe depression. In order to save myself, I chose to let him go… and married his uncle instead. But at my wedding, he set aside his pride and dignity, dropped to his knees before everyone, and begged me for nothing more than a single glance.

Miles Wright's first love, Faith Green, announces that she's leaving the country on the day he's supposed to marry me. She claims he'll never see her again. He ignores her and continues with our wedding. Even later, when the plane crashes and leaves Faith's body mangled and broken, he merely says coldly, "It was written in her fate." Miles only reveals his true colors after he uses me to become Wright Group's CEO. He moves into a monastery under the guise of wanting to repent for his sins. He has a rosary with him at all times and turns into a man renowned in the city for his piousness and kindness. Meanwhile, he forces me to kneel before Faith's gravestone every night. He also makes me pray and chant for her in atonement. I climb up a long staircase every day so I can pray for her well-being. Finally, I'm tormented to the point of miscarriage, and I die on a snowy winter night. Fortunately, the heavens were kind enough to bring me back to my wedding day. This time, I'm not making the same mistake. If Miles, an illegitimate son, thinks he can use me as a stepping stone, he's wrong! He's not worthy of that!

One accidentally crossed, and crossed the United States. Well, there's nothing wrong with crossing America. But who is that guy flying around with a hammer?! Hey ~ Who's there to control the thunderstorm! I didn't know this weather was bad for business...

Kim has Genophobia, and that's why she can't be in a relationship for too long. Meanwhile, her family wanted her to get married soon. Same with Kim, Ronald J. Gavel was also ordered by his grandpa to get married as soon as possible, or he would be betrothed to the woman of his grandpa's choice. Kim is Ronald's employee at JG. Company, but they live in opposite apartment units. When he finds out that Kim is in the same boat as him, Ronald offers her a contract marriage.

On Independence Day, I was on my way to my boyfriend's house when a car slammed into me. The stretch of road was deserted. The collision jammed my door shut, and the acrid smell of gasoline filled the air. My car was about to explode. I scrambled for the emergency hammer, only to find it had been swapped out for a pink toy mallet. Panic rising in my chest, I dialed my boyfriend's number. To my horror, his ringtone sounded from the very car that had crashed into me. He stepped out, arm wrapped around his childhood sweetheart. She put on a pitiful face, tears in her eyes. "Oh no, I'm so clumsy. It's my first time driving, and I hit someone." When my boyfriend realized the victim was me, he didn't hesitate to console her. "Don't worry. She must have collided with you on purpose." I pounded on the window, desperate. "Nick! The emergency hammer's been switched out. Help me get out of here!" His childhood sweetheart lit up with a mischievous smile. "Katie, I swapped it! Isn't the pink hammer super cute?" Disgust flickered across Nick's face. "It's just a little crash. Get out on your own." By now, thick smoke was pouring into the car, and the heat was searing my lungs. I begged him to save me. But the girl only giggled, covering her nose in mock annoyance. "Katie, why are you cooking in there? The smoke is awful." Then she patted her stomach. "Oops, my tummy is rumbling. Nick, let's go home and eat." He tightened his hold around her and turned to leave. "Enough already. Stop pretending. My parents are waiting for us at home." Just as suffocation closed in on me, I slammed my hand against the car's emergency distress button.

"Thirty million" I heard a male voice echo round the walls of the hall which silenced everyone. Who would bid that high just to buy me? "Thirty million dollars" the male voice spoke up once again, a young man striding confidently forward like he owned the very building with his bidding card raised up. He was eighty percent taller than everyone in attendance. I sucked in breath at his refined but cold appearance. His tuxedo hugged his body and showed of his impeccable muscles. His dark long hair was slick and let to fall, not a single strand out of place. He had the profile of a greek God but his features lacked warmth and empathy. His brown steel eyes burrowed into mine, a look of disgust on his face for me. "Sold!" the chairman hit the gavel on the table after a brief moment of silence since no one else was willing to bid higher. A wave of ovation took the hall, men chattering amongst themselves and whistling. "Get her ready and bring her to me" he pivoted and sharply ordered one of the armed bodyguards standing close to the podium. He owns me now. **** When a ruthless mafia lord bids for an innocent girl, can her innocense survive in the abyss of his darkness?