Gifted Hands

When I bring up divorce in front of my husband, Vito Corti, he happens to be toying with a lace thigh strap that's gifted to him by a rising adult film star. Vito, the head of the Corti family as well as the youngest Don in Emaly, orders his Soldato to pick up his new lover tonight. Then, he shoots a languid glance at the divorce agreement on the table. "How big of a tantrum are you throwing this time, my dear Donna?" I reply calmly, "I didn't touch the bank card tied to the private account. I also don't want the estate in Emaly as well as the bulletproof convoy. I have already entrusted the asset management authority to your Consigliere." Vito is stunned for a moment, but he still thinks I'm still throwing a tantrum. "You don't want those assets? Then what do you want? My devotion? Gia, I already told you in the past that you're the woman with the highest position in the family. But it's too boring for a Don to own just one woman." He tries to reach out to feel my cheek, thinking that I'll act the same way as before; that I'll forgive him in a roundabout way after lashing out at him. But I just avoid his hand. I no longer want Vito's devotion to me. Now, I just want to leave him.

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?”

I have been the Donna of the Smith family for nine years— but only in name. I took my deceased twin sister Lily’s place, raised her daughter Emma as my own, and lived beside a husband, David, who never once looked at me with love. For nine long years, I gave everything. Emma, however, only saw me as the woman who “killed her mother,” never knowing it was Lily who stole my marriage, my identity, and the man who was supposed to be mine. She pushed me in public, screamed that I was a murderer, and even used the gun I gifted her to shoot the only thing that brought me comfort—a tiny bird I’d been nursing back to health. And David… David, the man I once loved with my whole heart, couldn’t hide the coldness in his eyes. Every time he looked at me, I could feel Lily’s shadow standing between us. So I made a decision. If this family wanted Lily so badly— then they could have her ghost. I would leave the Smith estate, the title of Donna, the child who hated me, and the man who never wanted me. But the night I packed my bags, David suddenly appeared in the doorway, blocking my path— his eyes no longer cold, but afraid. As if he had finally realized what losing me truly meant.

Rosela a young teenager of about 16 years old wants nothing but love and care from the people she calls family. The woman that was supposed to look after her is being blinded with by love, the same man that murders her late husband, Rosela's father. She always live a life that pleases her mother while she suffers silently in the hands of Amunsa, her step-father. She kept remembering how her late father died and he wanted to tell her before he passed on. Suffering everyday in the hands of Amunsa is a nightmare she wishes to wake up from and pretend as if it's never happens. In the process of putting a stop to Amunsa's molestation, the wort it's becomes. Along the line, she was able to find out who really killed her father. Now despite her young age, she swore to fight against the the person that murders her father and also putting a stop to Amunsa's obsession towards her. Will she lives or loses her life in the process of digging into the past on finding the killer?

Slowly his hands glide up from my hips, up my back to the base of my hairline tilting my head down so that our foreheads touch. His eyes are closed and his breath is just as ragged at mine. “What on earth was that?” I ask “The best damn kiss of my life. Worth waiting almost 3 years to kiss you like that” My cheeks flush red at the comment. We have kissed a handful of times over the years. Usually instigated in a moment of weakness by Dimetrius but never anything like that. That kiss was dripping with desire from both sides. It definitely wasn’t one sided, I could feel what that kiss did to him through the hard length pressing against the inside of my thigh through his pants. I figured, why not throw it all at the wind and take a chance. I maintain eye contact with him as I slowly run my hands down the front of his chest, his eyes don’t leave mine as he sits dangerously still. I bring my hands back up his body again as I wrap my arms around the back of his neck. I adjust myself on his lap, so that now im sitting directly on top of his hard length and lean down to kiss him stopping just short with a smirk on my face. “Amelia” he says my name almost like a warning. That if I push him too far he is scared that he wont be able to stop. Once those flood gates are open, will either of us be strong enough to close them. I’m risking everything in this moment. I’m risking any future with Abran, and I’m risking my friendship with my best friend I am currently straddling. Fuck it

Yana meets my eyes then, and I see a passionate light in her eyes that I haven’t seen before. Slowly, she takes my hands and puts them on her shoulders. My palms graze her skin, sending shockwaves of pleasure through every cell of my body. “What are you doing?” I ask in a low voice. “Making sure it’s real.” She meets my eyes, letting my hands roam to her arms and to her waist. “I don’t repel you, like you said. It’s meant to be. And for that I need you to touch me.” The heat between us is getting more and more intense. She puts her hands on top of mine and let my touch wander to her hips. I trace her hip bones with my thumbs, watching as the light in her eyes dim into something more mature. Darker and more primitive. Lust. Desire. “Does it feel like I’m repelling you?” she asks. “No.” I pull her closer to me. “It feels like you’re inviting me, telling me to make you mine.” *** Desperate times call for desperate measures. And a desperate measure is what Yana Allard is seeking to save her small jewelry business. When she gets a chance to get an audience with one of the biggest holdings companies in Los Angeles, she grabs it by the neck and refuses to let go. Only to end up at the mercy of the cruel bachelor CEO, Mikhail Sartori, who has an offer she couldn't resist. But what happens if she discovers that he's not just the leader of an empire, but a King to a race of Lycans? And what happens when he finds out that she can command and control his destructive, monstrous side aimed to harm humans like her?

“How do you feel?” He asked, his voice low and dangerous. “How do you think I feel?” I returned the question, staring back at him defiantly. “Perhaps I should continue?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Can you please step back, your fiancée is just meters away and this is not the right way to stand with a woman”. I said, my voice firm, and his face turned into a scowl. “Why are you keen on torturing us?” He asked, one of his hands trailing downwards, “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “Do you like it when I flirt with her?” He inquired, his hands now in between my laps and I bit back a moan, “Do you want me to touch her like this?” He added, his fingers slipping into panties and I immediately held his hands, “Stop! Guards and maids are around, Sophia is still at the dining table” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “Answer the question, Ava”. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After her husband’s betrayal and a hospital error, Ava discovers she’s carrying the child of Billionaire Zayn Beckham. Forced into a surrogacy contract, Ava’s stubborn nature and determination clash with Zayn’s dominant personality and he finds himself falling in love with his supposed surrogate, despite his girlfriend’s presence. As Ava’s pregnancy journey progresses, secrets are revealed, their lives are threatened by attacks, putting the baby’s and Ava lives in danger. With each attempt on their lives, Ava and Zayn must fight to protect their unborn child and struggle to get over their growing feelings for each other. Can they overcome the obstacles and find a happy ending? Find out more about their love story as you subscribe.

"Hubby, some people are trampling on m. I want to beat them up." "No problem. How many men should I send?" ... "Hubby, someone stole my work. Sha should I do?" "Should I break their hands or clamp their mouths" ... Assistant: Boss, someone is proposing to your wife. " Hubby: Go and abduct him... No. Get the cars ready *grabs coat* ...

Her father and stepmother died, leaving her to the brutal hands of her step brother. Her stepbrother is heartless. He treats her as a maid, is it a torture? She however discovers that she has been sold. Sold to a Ruthless Mafia, just to serve as a settlement for her stepbrother's debt. Now she fears her life. Would her life take a turn for the worse or for the best?

Luke moved then. Fast. Too fast. One second he was across the room, the next he was in front of her, towering over her like a wall of heat and fury. His hands came up, gripping her arms not gently, not cruelly, but with a force that said he was one second from shattering. “You think I don’t fight for you every damn day?” His voice was low, dangerous, vibrating with something raw. “You think I don’t take bullets for you behind the scenes? Every single move I make is to keep you breathing, Abigail. So don’t you dare stand there and act like I’m doing nothing.” Her breath hitched, but the anger didn’t stop burning. “Then say it to her. Say it to their faces instead of hiding behind silence like a coward!” Something snapped in his eyes then something sharp and blazing. And before Abigail could blink, his mouth was on hers. The kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was a collision hard, punishing, desperate. All the rage, the fear, the need that had been coiling between them exploded like fire. Abigail gasped against him, her hands going up to his chest, meaning to push him away except she didn’t. Just couldn’t. Because the second his tongue slid against hers, the second his body pressed flush against hers, every bone in her body melted. Luke growled low in his throat, a sound that made heat curl deep in her belly. He spun her, slamming her gently but firmly against the wall, his hands framing her face as he devoured her mouth like he’d been starving for years.