Honey Honey Wedding

All my life, I've only wanted one thing. LOVE. Why, you might ask? It is because love is like honey and poison stirred together, love is like heaven and hell all rolled into one. LOVE. It is also the one thing that killed my father, drove my sister to insanity and lead me into the arms of the Mafia King. My name is Lily, and this is my story.

I always thought my wife was just an ordinary "brother-loving sister," the kind who would do anything for her brother. But one night, I watched in frozen horror as she dismembered her brother in our storage room. Then, as if nothing had happened, she turned and looked straight at me. She flashed her usual gentle smile. "Honey," she called softly, her voice sweet and familiar—exactly the same as always.

Jade Parker is an average girl from Tennessee who is head over heels for Chris Bellamy AKA Mr honey brown eyes. Suddenly, he takes interest in her and they begin to date, but Jade finds out about a secret that shatters their relationship. In order to be happy again, she gets a rebound that takes a very drastic turn. After finally finding true love, she is faced with another problem-A stalker.

After I landed a five-million-dollar contract and saved the company from financial collapse, my CEO wife wrapped me in an excited embrace and said she wanted to have a baby with me. She took out her phone and showed me a virtual baby on an app she had just signed up for. "Look, honey," she said. "Isn't it adorable? You can even change how it looks. Do you like it? Once things settle down at the company, we can have a real one." That night, I came across a post by her male secretary on social media. It was a photo of a positive pregnancy test, with my wife's figure visible in the background. I did not comment. I just liked the post. When my wife noticed, she panicked and called me immediately. "Honey, it's not what you think. Please listen to me! I wanted to surprise you. The baby is yours! "Can you clear things up on social media for everyone? I promise I'll give you a child of your own soon." She insisted the baby was mine, yet she seemed to have forgotten that we had not shared a bed in six months. "End the pregnancy," I said. "We're finished."

Astraea was a normal girl with extremely simple and happy life. But everything is jeopardized when she met a mysterious guy. 𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏. 𝑺𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓. 𝑨 𝒕𝒚𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓, 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚. 𝑨 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚. 𝑨 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒎 𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 - I closed the book and a heavy sigh left my lips. I looked out of the library and there he was standing at the door. His arms flexed as his grip on the door tightened. He felt so close yet so far. And his eyes, his beautiful honey like eyes, it held a story. A mystery that seems to pull me towards him, no matter how much I resist. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬. 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐞...

First Book of the ' Second Chance séries ' Jasmine's life was tragically cut short by the man she had admired for years. After enduring years of suffering, he cruelly pushed her off a cliff, sending her into the arms of death. However, fate had other plans for her soul, as it encountered a gracious woman who offered her a second chance at life. In this new chapter, Jasmine is determined to take back everything that was stolen from her by Carl Lawson, the very man who had taken so much from her. But during her mission of vengeance, she finds comfort and affection in a man who never left her side. **** She tenderly asked, "Honey, you look tired, should I give you a massage?" Her smile radiates warmth and beauty as she stands before him in a captivating red lace nightgown. His gaze intensifies as he harbors suspicions about her true intentions. Is this woman looking for trouble? He knows that a mere touch from her could lead to a passionate encounter. Without a word, he draws her closer, capturing her luscious lips in a passionate kiss. Between their intertwined lips, he whispers, "Do my lips taste like honey, or should I savor you like an exquisite chocolate, that's scarcely found in the market?"

“Honey, our daughter can’t marry a loser. She is our only child, we can not hand her over to a nobody, especially at such a cruiser time.” Catherine’s mother cried out to her husband. “So, an underdog for a husband. How ironic! As the saying goes, 'like mother, like daughter.”Chloe teased in a low voice, making sure that only Catherine could hear those words. Although Rome said nothing, his blood was boiling with rage and thirst for revenge. “I'll be back,” Rome said.

Evan Moore is the perfect husband in everyone's eyes. He gives me a grand wedding and fully supports my career dreams. When I faced a difficult labor, he stayed by my side, kneeling for a full day and night until he nearly passed out from exhaustion. Afterward, he held me in his arms, sobbing until his eyes were red and swollen, his voice trembling with fear. "Honey, let’s not have any more kids… It's just too much." From then on, he spends his days and nights at the monastery, praying devoutly for me and our son, earning the title of the city’s most pious CEO. But one day, by pure chance, I glimpse the handwritten scriptures he keeps so carefully copied. And that's when I realize every word, every stroke, is a confession of his undying love… for his first love. All his tenderness, all his care—it was never truly for me. It was learned for her. I was nothing more than practice—a stand-in for his so-called true love.

Right after I am done with a meeting, I scroll through social media and come across a warning post with my company's location tagged. The title reads, "Avoid this place! Anyone who comes here is a sucker. The company is so stingy that it can't even provide decent snacks." The photos show the Starbucks drinks and five-star desserts I just asked my assistant to distribute to everyone. I frown and tag everyone in the group chat, asking for suggestions about the teatime snacks. A Gen Z intern, Alice Grimes, immediately sends a voice message, "No offense, Ms. Knox, but these mass-produced desserts are full of trans fats. Even dogs wouldn't eat them. A good company would hire Kitchelin chefs to cook on-site. Now that's called having true respect for employees." I laugh in disbelief. My company spends 50 dollars per person on daily tea time, which is considered top-tier in the industry. So, I reply, "Since it's hard to please everyone, we'll cancel teatime from now on and convert it into a cash allowance for everyone." Less than five minutes later, there is a new update in the social media post. "Guys, you won't believe this. I made a reasonable suggestion, and the petty boss just cut our teatime perk! This is how a typical capitalist behaves. They can't handle any honest feedback."

Vera Quinn and I spent seven years tearing each other apart in the corporate world. When we first started, she sabotaged my presentation slides, hoping to watch me humiliate myself in front of the board. I retaliated by flagging her fraudulent expense reports to HR, making sure her name was dragged through every department in the company. When we were both up for the director position, she locked me in a supply closet to make me miss the final interview. The moment I got out, I poached a major client she had been pursuing for six months, leaving her at the very bottom of the year-end performance rankings. In our industry, we were fire and water—completely incompatible. Then three years ago, the endless scheming finally felt hollow. I handed in my resignation and walked away from the industry for good. The day I packed my desk and left, Vera was leaning against the elevator door, her eyes full of mockery. "Giving up already? Mylo, a cowardly deserter like you deserves to starve on the streets". I hit the "close" button, swearing I never wanted to see her face again as long as I lived. Three years later, we crossed paths again at the industry’s annual gala. Vera was now the youngest partner in the industry. She looked at me as I stood there, humbling myself to pour drinks for an executive, and let out a sharp laugh. "It’s been a few years, and you’ve fallen this far? Working as a glorified escort to scrounge up some investments? What happened to that pride you used to fight me with?" But I wasn't there to secure any investment. I was there to beg that executive for a few more days to pay off the predatory loans my father had left behind. I just needed enough time to sign the consent form for my stomach cancer surgery with a clear conscience.