Heroic Names

And just like every cliche love story, their's, also began in a marriage of convenience. But wait---there's more to it. ************ Rowan Yasir Dela Cruz is looking for a woman who has the Rousso mafia mark, but little did he know; he had already known her for a long time. He even married her. He was just too dumb not to notice her. (Rowan Yasir Dela Cruz and Avyanna Cabrera story) This is a work of fiction. The names, places, businesses and events mentioned in the story are only used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead or actual events are purely coincidental. All Rights Reserved 2022 PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Trace a.k.a The Orgy King. The Panty Ripper. His sworn brother called him funny names but he knows what he is. A spawn by Satan. Born to be his father's trouble. He fuck around like a rabbit. Party here and there. But his fave sport will always involve dark and bad. A walking sin. Trace will soon realize that karma really is a bitch*. Organization. Friendship. Brotherhood. Trace Dimagiba might be the most hateful man in FOEDUS CORP., but he’ll soon realize that even the devil himself deserves redemption. In the form of the feisty and beautiful woman who sauntered into his life– Chloe. His light and his end game.

The purpose of our lives is to be happy. Curiosity about life in all of its aspects, I think, is still the secret of great creative people. Curiosity about life in all of its aspects, I think, is still the secret of great creative people. There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness. When you find that one that's right for you, you feel like they were put there for you, you never want to be apart. — Copyright 2022 © Xyrielle All Rights Reserved No Copy Stories No Plagiarism Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Damon Draven is one of the hottest Bachelors known in New York. In fact, one of the most sought after men. When a tragedy happens from the top of his company building, and he is tagged the prime suspect in the murder of his lover. Sadly with his business and reputation on the line and having no other option, he employs the services of Sarah Len, a barista, whose only dream is to save her sick nephew. He names her his Fiancée and he is cleared of the charges. Things seem a bit sweet, and peaceful, until someone who believes that Damon should be only hers appears in the picture. Secrets open, true identities are revealed that leave Sarah speechless and threatens their relationship.

Lieah is punished with a curse she did not deserve. A curse that will undoubtedly cause her to lose her mind, figuratively speaking. She didn't realize it until she went through the same catastrophe three times. What exactly is this curse? Is she going to be able to overcome it? Will she have to go through the same ordeal for the fourth time? Let's have a look at how she overcame this affliction throughout her life. A story that the only thing you can say is, "Love me, Don't." Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

My life was about to be complicated. Meeting a stupidly hot guy after a missed flight, and a kiss that left me dizzy. We agreed: no names, no numbers. Just a hot make out session and goodbye. But when I start my dream job the next week, guess who’s sitting behind the Managers desk? Yep. The airport stranger. Now he’s Mr. Thatcher… aka my boss. Worse? He’s older and engaged. I know I’m not supposed to be thinking about that kiss especially when I’m supposed to be working, but my brain still hasn’t gotten the memo. Office meetings just got a lot more complicated…..

As the end of the year approaches, my wife, Sylvia Small, who is five months into her pregnancy, accidentally falls into a lake. Our neighbor who is a police officer, Raven Weber, jumps in and rescues her. Unfortunately, she slips into a coma after her heroic feat. As I rush over, I see that a crowd has gathered at the scene. Sylvia is drenched from head to toe, wrapped up tightly in a blanket. Water droplets keep dripping from the tips of her hair. "Are you alright, Sylvia?" I ask, drawing near. The moment Sylvia sees me, she moves toward me and burrows herself into my arms. She clings to me like she is clinging for dear life. "You're finally here, Zach!" she exclaims emotionally. I frown and push her away. "Just say what you have to say. This suit is expensive. Don't dirty it," I said indifferently. My words make Sylvia's eyes go wide with disbelief and shock. But that only lasts for a second before an anxious look replaces it. She holds my arms firmly and says in a choked voice, "Officer Weber is in a coma because of me. Please transfer a sum of money to me so that I can thank her for saving my life." I glance at Sylvia impatiently and reply, "What's that got to do with me? Why should I transfer you my money so that you can give it to her?"

Gilmore Davis, has never had anything to do with his employees or business partners. He didn't even know their names or their faces. He was that employer that barely relates with people. He only paid attention to important happenings in his business, strictly differentiating business from pleasure. He had never been a fan of office romance either. But, things changed and he suddenly had interest in one of his business partners. Vanessa Amelia Jones, was just a girl that wanted to make ends meet, avoiding trouble, and never wanting to be in the spotlight.They both seemed like opposites. But had a past binding them together. What's this past that is binding a nonchalant man like Gilmore, with his business partner, Vanessa?

A dark and gloomy villa stood in the middle of the barren landscape, hidden from sight by a perched hedge. It was phenomenal and spectacular, but it makes it appear to have succumbed to a sullen and ominous atmosphere, both inside and out. A lanky hedge and gnarled shrubs give off the impression that the house has indeed been overlooked. The rainstorm seeping from the sewer pipes made the place appear miserable and dispirited. Needless to say, the house appeared razed to the ground and devoid of life. The house was made of rune stone that had been smeared darker in spots by downpours, sending it an insidious demeanor even during the day. The window frames were all padlocked and bricked up in steel frames and woods, as if what was inside would have been too grotesque to see, trying to give the impression that someone must have attempted to prevent something horrible from escaping. People have claimed that the residence was plagued by the witch who died there, but there has been no tangible evidence to substantiate their claims. It was even widely speculated that the villa was venomous and mowed down the leaves of trees that come into direct contact with its concrete pillars. People also construed a terrifying presumption that whoever tries to enter the house will never make it out alive because there is something inside that you would never dare to see with your very own eyes. Whatever was real or not, it was unmistakably foreshadowing, exponentially cold and savage at a hundredth of a thousand glances. A breathtaking doll sat competently on a rocking chair inside the house. Waiting complacently for someone brave and heroic enough to unravel the abominable and ghoulish mystery and paradox behind her enchanting, spine-chilling smile.

I saved his life when we were children. He gave him his mother's ring as a promise that he'd always love me. Then my father tore us apart, and I spent twenty years loving him from afar. When I finally convinced my father to arrange our marriage, I thought it was my second chance. Instead, Asha treated me like a burden—cold, distant, cruel. He made it clear there was only one woman he'd ever loved: the mysterious girl who saved him from a fire years ago. That girl was me. But he never knew. Because my twin sister—Victoria—stole my identity, claimed my heroic moment, and won his heart with my story. While I grieved my father's sudden death alone, she stole his heart and planned my destruction. I should have told him the truth. I should have shown him the burn scar on my shoulder—proof of the fire that nearly killed us both. Instead, I signed the divorce papers and disappeared, letting the world believe I was dead. Now I'm back to claim what's mine: my father's empire, my true identity, and maybe... my ex-husband's heart. But some secrets have deadly consequences. And the mother I thought was dead? She's very much alive—and she'll kill anyone who stands between her and my father's fortune. Even me.