He Hit Me Up Hey Ashley

My billionaire husband suffered from chronic insomnia for years. Only the sleep balm I made could help him sleep. On the night of our seventh wedding anniversary, his childhood sweetheart poured a basin of scalding water over the old camphor tree in our garden. I wept and tried to save the tree as she apologized, “I didn’t know you used its leaves to make the sleep balm.” My husband gently comforted her and ordered his men to tie me to the tree trunk instead. “What a precious tree. You’ll spend the rest of your days with it!” With my wrist fractured as a result, I filed for divorce immediately. A month later, my husband was unable to sleep late one night. He stood in the garden and stared at the withered camphor tree.

My husband, Jacob Morris, wrongly believed that I had pushed the woman he loved down the stairs. So, he locked me in the basement to make me reflect on my actions. He hired people to punish me, trying to break my spirit. I suffered inhumane torture. My tendons were cut, and my face was disfigured. Four years later, he finally remembered me and let me out. But by then, I was too broken to love him anymore.

I was chosen to be the fiancée of Lorenzo, the Mafia’s heir. But at a family gala, Lorenzo was openly pursued by Chiara, the daughter of an arms dealer. Chiara wasn’t like the other rule-abiding debutantes.She tore through the streets in a modified sports car, used a military-grade combat knife to cut her cigars, and drank the harshest whiskey neat.There was an untamed wildness about her, a fire Lorenzo couldn’t look away from. He complained to the family elders, “How can a woman like that possibly be our Madre and run this entire family?” His words dripped with disdain for her recklessness, yet his eyes were glued to her, tracking her every move as she raised her glass. Then, on Lorenzo’s birthday, he announced his intention to make Chiara his mistress. Chiara refused.”The women of my family are wives, never mistresses.And my husband’s heart must belong only to me.” Lorenzo came to me, his voice hesitant.”Alessia, it’s just a title.I need you to give it to Chiara.Please? She doesn’t understand our family’s traditions, and she’s making a scene about marrying me.We just need to pacify her for now.Even if she marries me, you will still be the one to manage the family’s affairs.” As I stood trying on my wedding gown, a sharp crystal bead on the bodice pierced my finger.A single drop of blood bloomed against the pure white satin. The dress was ruined, but the wedding would go on. Since he chose someone else to be his wife, I will become his Madre.

With mixed feelings, Jillian Moore goes to the casting of the new season of "The Super Model" to investigate the case of a missing girl behind the scenes. Before she knows it, she stumbles into a turbulent whirlpool of glamour, ambition and shady dealings. When, to make matters worse, she falls in love and has to shimmy from one lie to the next, her life seems to come completely apart at the seams ...

Aleya hates playboy because of her playboy ex-boyfriend but she suddenly becomes the bodyguard of a popular playboy, Enrique Villarreal. Although she dislikes him she still needs to be professional in her work. Enrique was challenged to see a woman who doesn't swoon in front of him and instead hates him so he promise himself that he will make his beautiful and brave bodyguard to fell in love with her and then kick her out of her job while Aleya promise to herself that she will not fell from Enrique's tricks and will not fall in love with him. But can she stick to her promise to not fall in love with him when he always seducing her? Will Aleya's love can change the heart of a playboy?

I'm not only ugly, I'm an idiot. Because, tell me, why would I think that the hottest guy at school would be interested in me? To make it even worse, he was dating my sister. My sister was perfect. She was the golden daughter—perfect at everything, beautiful. So why would I, in my right mind, think that Damien Salvatore would be interested in an ugly duckling like me? That was my first mistake. *** I couldn't believe Damien had just said that to me. Damien wanted me.... Me!? Inner squeal. He cupped my face and kissed me fiercely, catching me by surprise. My body sprang to life, answering to the need in his kiss until it became more, heated, too much. I tore away from him, shaking my head, even as my body throbbed with desire. “Wait...” Why was I stopping this? Am I an idiot? I have dreamt About this since forever.... I have never wanted anything so bad in my life. "Don't you want to kiss me??" He rasped out.

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"I’m a good girl—until I got drunk in Vegas and married a panties-flaming-hot Irishman. Oops. I’ve always lived my life by the rules. Unlike my two sisters, I’m the good one. The responsible one. Going outside my comfort zone is when I wear red lipstick before five PM. That comfort zone of mine? It’s smashed to smithereens on a wild night in Las Vegas when I met—and married—Liam Gallagher. After one shot of tequila, then two, then too many to count, a good girl’s rules tend to disappear. And so do her panties, and her bra, and various other articles of clothing when she’s with an Irishman who knows his way around a woman’s body. Now my husband wants us to stay married. For six months. He says it’ll be worth my while. Considering our chemistry underneath the sheets, I can’t say that he’s wrong. Liam isn’t safe, though. Liam definitely isn’t comfortable. He’s like the male equivalent of wearing red lipstick in the daytime all wrapped up in an irresistible, dangerous package. Yet this stubborn Irishman isn’t about to let me go, drunken Princess Bride-themed Vegas wedding or no. Now I have to decide if I’m brave enough to break the rules for love."

"You can't walk away," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. "Not now." I never should've followed him. I knew it the second I saw his dark, predatory eyes lock onto mine across the bar. But I couldn't stop myself. I was drawn to him, to the danger simmering beneath his cool, controlled exterior. "One night," I told myself, "just one night." But it wasn't just a night. It was a raw, thrilling ride into darkness, where he took control in ways l'd never imagined. "Do you like it when I make you beg?" he growled, and I did. God, I did. By morning, I was tangled in his sheets, marked by his touch, my body still aching from the things he'd done to me. But when I opened my eyes and saw his face in the cold light of day, reality hit like a punch to the gut. The man l'd spent the night with, the one who made me surrender in every way possible, wasn't just a sexy stranger. He was a mafia kingpin-one of the most feared men in the city. And me? I'm the future district attorney, the one assigned to take him down. "You belong to me now," he said, his voice a deadly promise. And as much as I wanted to deny it, I knew he was right. But what happens when the lines between law and lust blur beyond recognition?

I spend a decade as the woman behind Corey Larson. I help him save his company from the brink of bankruptcy and turn it into a public-listed company. He's on the cusp of success, and I'm about to propose to him. That's when he brings his childhood sweetheart into the picture to take my place. He thanks me for my decade of hard work. Then, he tells me I'm no longer a good fit for the company as it's about to embark on a new journey. I stare at him. I've loved him for ten years and given him my everything, but he brushes me off with a bank card. My blood turns to ice. The decade I've spent with him has ultimately gone down the drain. He doesn't seem to realize the consequences, though. Once I quit and leave, his company will cease to exist… just like my love for him.