Good Morning Jack Hartmann

"Shut down for rectification, fined $500,000, plus $300 compensation per customer. That’s the penalty from the Food Safety Bureau. Let’s see if you dare serve us gutter oil again!” Yves Larson, a part-timer at a construction site, sends me a provocative text purposefully, as though he's worried that I don't know what's going on. I just stare at the sign that says "closed for renovation", which is hung on the front door of my eatery. Never would I expect that the budget eatery that I've opened for the sake of the workers will be transformed into a blade that's aimed at me, thanks to the very same workers. That night, I sit in the apartment that my dad has left to me before his death. There, I spend the whole night smoking. Early the next morning, I head over to the bank and withdraw the money left behind by my dad, which is 260 million dollars. Half a month later, my eatery is open for business again. Work resumes at the construction site as well. Yves leads the construction workers to the restaurant at lunch. "I've taught him a good lesson last time. This time, I'm very sure that he won't have the guts to serve us cheap food made of shitty ingredients!" What he doesn't know is that the original eatery is already demolished. In its place stands a luxurious five-star restaurant. I stand in front of the main entrance as I perform a welcoming gesture to the workers. "This is a five-star restaurant that offers a private dining experience to you. The minimum bill for each table is 4000 dollars. You're welcome to dine here."

My boss had a new boyfriend called Eugene Larson. The first day he came to the office, he put on a great show of exerting his dominance. He deleted my number from my boss's phone right in front of me. Eugene waved his phone in front of me while playing innocently. "You can talk to me about anything you need to communicate to Tina, Mr. Sanders. I'll help you pass the message to her. I don't have much sense of security, so please don't mind this. It's to avoid any misunderstanding between us." I was hoping my boss, Tina Kayden, would be able to say something fair on my behalf, but all she did was stare at Eugene approvingly and adoringly throughout the conversation. She turned to me and said, "This is a pretty good plan, Mr. Sanders. Do take good care of Eugene from now on." As there was no way for me to reject her, I was forced to add Eugene's contact to my phone. However, the moment he had my number, he flooded my phone with messages. [Mr. Sanders, is the client you're meeting tomorrow with the surname Charleston a man or a woman?] [Where are you having the meeting tomorrow? Wear something casual tomorrow. It would be best if you avoid washing your face and hair. Otherwise, I would think you're trying to seduce my wife.] [I believe your relationship with Tina is innocent. You're not allowed to betray me because I'm treating you like my buddy!] [By the way, you have an extra duty from now on. You need to remind Tina every 30 minutes to send me a message telling me that she loves me.] As I read these ridiculous messages, I laughed in anger. I put my phone on silent mode and flung it to the side before going to bed. The next morning, I woke up to dozens of missed calls on my phone.

I was the top repair specialist at a luxury goods store. Ninety percent of the shop's revenue came from my work alone. In three years, I turned a run-down little shop on the brink of closing into a nationwide chain. All because I clocked in two minutes late one morning, the newly appointed supervisor, Tom Menzie, locked the front doors and announced he was taking everyone on a company trip. I asked why no one bothered to tell me. Tom sneered, "Well, those who can do more are trusted with more. We're going on vacation. You stay and work overtime. If you can't handle it, then get the hell out!" I was so mad that I laughed. I called the owner directly. "I heard you're firing me."

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT Jack Grant is a self-absorbed billionaire CEO who can't keep it in his pants. He believes he can buy any woman with just the right amount and treats them like trash. Cindy Banks is a sexy and beautiful young lady with a strong dislike for arrogant and unfaithful men. She has just one goal: to give her little brother a better chance at life. Cindy crosses paths with Jack Grant in her quest for a good job and suddenly he wants her beneath him, begging for more. However, she puts him in his place and shoves his job in his face. Jack Grant is upset by Cindy's rejection but she also successfully piques his interest. He sees her as a challenge and goes all out to conquer her with the intention of humiliating her when he finally gets in-between her legs. What Jack did not count on though, was falling head over heels in love with his secretary but, is it too late for him? How far would he go in order to prove to Cindy that what he feels for her is true?

The whole world got sucked into a survival horror game. While everyone else was grinding mobs and trying not to get wiped, the system bugged out and tagged me as an NPC. My role? Takeout girl. I cruised around on my busted scooter, dropping food at boss lairs. If my rating dipped under 9.0, I'd keel over instantly. I figured I was just some unlucky idiot skating on death's edge. Then a pack of dumb players tried to jack my ride. That's when the scariest bosses in the game roared at once: "Who the hell thinks they can touch my crew?!"

Everyone cheered on the most handsome student in our elective class, Jack Anderson, to reveal his ideal type. “My future wife has to be at least five feet five inches tall, and her parents must be professors. She also has to be beautiful and a top student in her field…” While everyone cheered, I immediately looked up. Why did the description… sound like my girlfriend, Cindy Swift? The next second, the professor standing next to the podium, Liam Swift, immediately smiled obsequiously. “That’s great! If Cindy hears this, she’ll be very happy! “You should meet her so that she wouldn’t go overseas over some silly guy.” Our classmates were roaring with laughter. I lowered my eyes and stared at the text message my parents had sent me. [You rascal! Are you sure you want to accompany your girlfriend overseas? No one will take over our family business, then!]

The fertility clinic called to inform me that my embryos were ready for transfer. I touched my abdomen, still numb from the anesthesia of that morning's egg retrieval. Even with cutting-edge medical technology, embryos couldn't be prepared this quickly. Before I could call back to clarify, my husband stopped me. "Mom's been pressing us hard. I pulled some strings to fast-track the process so you can get pregnant sooner. Imagine twins! My buddies will be green with envy." Silent, I drove straight to the clinic and dialed 911 on the way. "Hello? I'm reporting a fertility clinic involved in illegal surrogacy."

I'm a dance major who's preparing for her exams. Everyone thinks I'm a good girl, but there's one thing they don't know about me—I've fantasized about being violated more than once…

[WARNING: This story contains mature themes with profanities, hardcore graphical explicit sexual situations, and others. Strongly recommended for 18+ only. Otherwise, read at your own risk.] Bata pa lamang si Jack ay iniwan na sila ng kanyang ama. Ang tanging kasama lang niya ay ang maganda at napaka-bait niyang stepmom na si Marianne. They only have each other, through the good times and the bad times. Pero paano na lang kung biglang umamin si Jack na ang kaisa-isang taong gusto niyang makasama at mahalin ay walang iba kundi si Marianne? A love that overflows like magma - a love, so intense and hot that it burns in every touch. Sa mundong walang kasiguraduhan at puno ng tukso at pagkakamali, ang pag-ibig nga ba nila Jack at Marianne ay pang-walang hangganan? Paano na lang kung may mga taong patuloy silang pinaglalayo sa isa't isa? Jack once said to Marianne, "I don't care about anyone. I want you to be mine! At kahit masunog ako sa pagmamahal natin sa isa't isa, that's fine. Gustuhin at mahalin mo lang ako hanggang wakas, I am more than willing to be burnt to death."

My husband, Luca, had a childhood sweetheart named Sophia. Years ago, during a brutal gang shootout, Sophia shielded him from the worst of the bloodshed, and since then, she had suffered from severe PTSD. Because of that, Luca would push aside family business every year and fly to our estate on a secluded island off the coast of Sicily to spend three months “helping her recover.” “Victoria, she lost her mind because of me,” he told me. “I’m responsible for her. I hope you can be magnanimous.” So, I nodded. And eventually, I got used to the fact that every year, my husband would disappear for three months to fulfill what he called a moral obligation. That was until the day I flew in without warning to inspect the family’s money-laundering network on that island and saw him. In the town square, under the bright Mediterranean sun, Luca was standing there with a five-year-old boy by his side. “Papa, how long do we have to hide on this island?” the child asked. “I want to go to New York. I want to see the Empire State Building.” Luca laughed gently and scooped him up in his arms. With his other hand, he held Sophia’s. “Antonio, be good,” he said affectionately. “Papa’s position is… complicated. When you turn eighteen and pass the family’s initiation ceremony, I’ll kill that woman and her dead old man. Then, I’ll take you back to New York to inherit the entire Corleone family.” I stood in the shadows, unseen. Slowly, I lit a cigarette. The smoke curled around me as their voices drifted over, the conversation getting more vicious as it went. Sophia leaned into his chest, her tone sweet and coy. “Luca, I’ve been with you for seven years without a name or a title. How much longer are our son and I supposed to live like ghosts?” Luca sighed. “I don’t have a choice. The old man in the Corleone family is still alive. I married Victoria just to get her territory. Don’t worry. I’ve been adding something to her milk every day. She’ll never get pregnant in this lifetime. My family bloodline will only continue through you.” The last thread of reason in my mind snapped. In the six years of marriage we shared, I had been infertile. I’d taken countless hormone injections to stimulate ovulation. I’d knelt in church and prayed more times than I could count. Yet, all along, the devil poisoning me was my own husband. The initial shock faded quickly into rage. I crushed out my cigarette and pulled out my phone. Then, I dialed my uncle, the family’s clean-up man. “Uncle Rocco,” I said calmly, “Luca betrayed me. He betrayed the family. Order a coffin in the finest black walnut for me, and make it large, large enough to fit a family of three.”