How Do I Extract Pdf Pages Novels & Stories

Two opposite sides of the coin. That's how you can describe Ken Smith and Daniella Sparks. Yet how come they manage to find their ways to each others heart? No science can explain this for Ken. She made a preposition. "Just say I hate you and I'll leave you alone forever. But can you?"

Our bodies tangled in the car. My husband moved inside me, lips claiming my chest, when the sudden ring of a phone ripped me out of our intoxicating haze. Gabriel answered without hesitation. It was one of his closest friends from the medical world, speaking in German. “Don,” the voice said casually, “your mistress is two months pregnant. What are you going to do?” Gabriel didn’t pause. His tone was calm. “Grace can’t have children,” he replied. “I’ll let her carry the baby to term, then adopt it as my own. That secures the heir. This stays between us.” Something inside me froze. The one thing he had forgotten— I majored in German. And he learned it just to win me. I didn’t scream. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I smiled, stayed quiet, and kept playing the perfect wife. Later, I slipped the divorce papers into a real estate contract and watched him sign without reading. Then I quietly registered a new identity. For the next three days, his absence—and her taunting messages—erased the last illusions I had about love. When my new identity finally went live, I walked away without looking back. Carrying his child. And disappearing from his world forever.

Everyone said my good looks were what saved me from my family's downfall. It was how I managed to become a Donna. I was the only one who knew why he had to compromise to marry me. Xavier Whitmore, the tall and handsome Don, was unable to have physical relationships with a woman. When I shyly took off the gown on our wedding night, he sat in his chair and lit a cigarette before remarking in an icy voice, "I'm allergic to women. That said, you have my word that you will be the only woman in my life." He kept his promise. Though he never so much as touched me in the five years of our marriage, he provided me with a life of luxury and wealth. Although it was merely a title, being his only woman brought me happiness. Everything changed on the day my men and I were ambushed by a rival mafia family. We barely made it out alive. When I returned home, I found him locked in a tight embrace with his widowed sister-in-law, Alice Ortega. "Alice, I won't let you remarry. If you do, I'll make sure that man dies a thousand deaths." I scoffed. It wasn't so much that he couldn't handle being physical with a woman. It was simply that he could not be physical with anyone but her. In that case, she could have the pleasure of being the Donna.

The life trial system "If You Think You Can Do Better, Prove It" burst onto the scene like a traveling circus promising wonders. The idea was plain enough: "If you reckon someone's life is a mess, and you think you can do better, go ahead and prove it. There's a reward waiting if you do." Before I knew it, my whole family had me pegged for the fool in the middle of the show. There was my mother, dreaming of turning me into some grand goose; my husband, who'd spent years dodging his rightful share of the family load; and my son, mortified by the very sight of me. They shoved me onto the "judgment seat" like I was the villain of the tale. Every last one of them swore up and down that, given my place, they'd manage my life better than I ever could. The stakes? Well, if they pulled it off, my consciousness would be erased—gone, wiped out like a mistake on a chalkboard—and turned into their personal servant. On top of that, they'd waltz off with a cool million dollars. But if they couldn't? Then I'd be the one raking in three million dollars. Now that's a gamble for the ages, isn't it?

At our wedding, my wife's assistant "accidentally" uploaded the wrong photo. The big screen was supposed to display our wedding portraits. Instead, it was a picture of my wife and him in full wedding attire. Their fingers were laced together, their eyes locked in a soft, intimate gaze, looking every bit like a blissfully happy couple. The entire venue erupted in shocked whispers. The assistant froze in shock, acting like he had no idea why he was in the photo. He started panicking, asking if we should just postpone the ceremony. My wife, however, stayed surprisingly calm. She whispered her solution, “Everyone’s here. Postponing now would be humiliating and, honestly, a bad omen. Beside, most people here don’t even know what the groom looks like. Why don’t we just let him stand in for you?” Our friends were dumbfounded. They all thought I’d explode in anger and jealousy after hearing something so outrageous. Instead, I nodded, saying it was actually a great idea. Seeing how composed I remained, my wife looked pleased with herself. She told me that since we were legally married anyway, she’d make it up to me later with another ceremony. However, she seemed to have forgotten one thing: she had just signed the divorce papers.

By the seventh year of my engagement to Tristan, he postponed our wedding for the third time. The reason was simple. His childhood sweetheart, Gabriella, had returned to the country. She had just gone through a divorce and was emotionally unstable. Tristan personally retrieved every invitation we had sent out, his tone calm and steady. "Gabby has no one by her side right now. I can't upset her at a time like this." I held the ring that had already been resized twice and asked, "What about me?" Tristan glanced at me. "You're different. You're sensible." I had been hearing that word for seven years. Sensible. When his startup failed, I sold the old house my grandmother had left me to help him pay off his debts. When he suffered a gastric hemorrhage, I stayed at the hospital for three days straight and missed my own promotion defense. When his mother said my background was too ordinary for him, he only rubbed his temples and said, "Tori, don't make this difficult for me." Every time, I nodded. He once told me that no matter how thick the fog became, he would always leave a light on for me. Until the day Gabriella stood in front of the mirror wearing my wedding dress and smiled as she asked, "Victoria, you don't mind, do you? Tristan said your wedding's being postponed anyway." Tristan stood behind her. He did not deny it. He even reached out and adjusted her veil for her. The fog lamp he had given me with his own hands sat by the display window of the bridal shop. It was still lit, illuminating someone else in the white dress I had waited seven years to wear. Only then did I realize that some roads were not lost because the fog was too thick. It was because he had never planned to come for me at all.

The moon goddess must be running mad because who are these four hot shirtless men and why is my wolf purring and going into heat from just looking at them?! ~ My name is Kora Rhysand and I’m my father’s worst mistake. I have never said a word since I was born because my Omega wolf is mute. My sisters remind me every day that I’m worth less than the dust underneath their shoes, and everyone in the Saged Wolf pack calls me cursed. When the moon goddess surprises me with a second chance, I’m reborn two years in the past to the night of my 18th birthday. Now I have four mates, but I’m not sure how they are all going to fit…

All it took was a gunshot to have this criminal fucking me senseless. I'd spent months trying to bring down Antonio, the criminal I swore to put behind bars. I even set a trap for him, using someone close as bait. But instead of going down in chains, Antonio offered himself to me, in exchange for freedom. I should have said no, I should have followed the mission. But as a lonely divorcee craving warmth, how could I resist the way he touched me? The way his fingers made me forget the rules I live by? This wasn't the plan. My boss didn't send me here to get addicted to my enemy. Yet every secret night with Antonio leaves me wanting more, and drags me deeper into his dangerous world. He's supposed to die for his crimes, but unfortunately, the real crime is how badly I want him. And if the news gets out, I won't just lose my job– I'll lose my life.

For three years, I was his hidden Omega mate.I fought for him. I built his pack. I became his top warrior.But on our third anniversary, he chose a noble lady for power… and announced their marriage. I burned every gift.Awakened my royal blood.Broke the mate bond he thought he owned. I will never be your secret.Never your shadow.Never your mistress. I reject you, Alpha.This is my revenge.

At our engagement party, my fiancée said, "Even if I marry you, my heart will always belong to my first love." The room went dead silent. Everyone waited for me to snap and storm out in humiliation. Instead, I clapped first. Smiling, I said, "If marrying me makes you that miserable, I won't stop you. Just don't forget to pay back the wedding money I gave you." My fiancée panicked on the spot.