I Am Looking Respectfully Novels & Stories

Melissa Jones, the so-called 'fake' heiress, lost her memory trying to save me. Her memory was stuck at the time she was 18, back when our lives had not yet been set right. Everyone told me to be the bigger person. In the new family portrait, I was the only one missing. My biological mother tried to comfort me, "Shirley, be reasonable. It's just a photo. We will make it up to you later." I applied for the vice president position year after year, only to be rejected five times in a row. Then, when Melissa said she wanted to learn the business, my brother, Maverick Jones, approved it immediately. Afterward, he turned to me and said, "You should give way to Melissa. You're the reason she lost her memory. I'm helping you make up for it." When I went into labor and needed my husband, Charles Smith, to sign the consent for a C-section, he was one floor above me, accompanying Melissa to a follow-up appointment. I called him seven times. He declined every call. In the end, my seven-month-old baby suffocated. Even in a wheelchair, I went to demand an explanation. However, outside the hospital room, I heard Melissa crying. "Back then, you all agreed I should pretend to have amnesia. I'll never randomly decline calls for Charles again. I just want to stay by your side for three more months." There was a moment of silence. Then, Charles and the others agreed. At that moment, I was not angry. I just felt something inside me turn completely empty. I turned around and accepted my adoptive parents' request to return to Nebula City. This time, I would give these people what they wanted.

'Ms. Johnson, your marriage certificate is fake. 'The system shows that the name of Mr. William Clark's spouse is Sophia Lopez, and they have a six-year-old son.' I was holding my daughter, Emmy, at the time. My ears were rang as I recalled the words that escaped the lips of the staff member at the vital records office while passing the piece of marriage certificate, which now had a trashy feel to it, back to me. Suddenly, my phone vibrated, snapping me out of my thoughts. I checked and saw that it was a message from Sophia. 'Heather Johnson, my beloved husband, William, is attending my son's parent-teacher meeting and doesn't have time to help you with your illegitimate daughter's birth certificate application.' I clutched my phone and stared at the text message. Tears blurred my vision, for it made my eyes sting when I saw Sophia calling Emmy illegitimate. I kissed Emmy's forehead and carried her out of the hospital. … When I was on my way home, I called William's archnemesis, the very man he despised with every fiber of his being. "I'm currently single. If your offer still stands, I'll marry you in five days."

At the underground auction house, tonight's grand finale was billed as a 'premium wolf pet'. Inside the cage, a male wolf knelt with a bite-prevention muzzle locked around his neck. He was clearly a prisoner, yet his eyes held no trace of submission when he lifted his head. Instead, he looked like he was judging every single person in the room. His gaze cut through the crowd and locked onto me. My heart stuttered as excitement flooded my system. I finally knew what true attraction felt like. A well-dressed man in the front row raised his paddle. "$100 million." Gasps erupted across the venue. It was an astronomical opening bid. I smiled and slowly raised my paddle too. My voice brought the hall to dead silence. "$500 million."

William Graham and Jasmine Spencer had been at odds since they were kids. But that year, fate played a trick on them—out of all the eligible matches in their circle, only the two of them were left. William swore he would rather die than marry Jasmine. That piqued her interest. She said, "Great. Then I guess I'm definitely marrying you. Go ahead and drop dead." On their wedding day, William humiliated her by releasing dozens of chickens at the ceremony. With a flat look, Jasmine picked one up and called it "Darling". Just like that, William lost all interest in the joke. He looked at the woman who insisted on marrying him and sneered. "You'll regret this." Three years into the marriage, Jasmine caught William cheating for the ninety-ninth time. It was only then that she finally understood— So this was the kind of regret William had meant.

It was the day of our wedding trip, and my fiancee only hurried over to the airport at the last minute. Right before we boarded, she got an urgent message from her male secretary. "Sorry, honey. There's a big project that needs my attention. Just showed up. You go ahead without me. I'll catch up once I'm done with work." It was a shame, but work was important. "Yeah, I get it." Then, I tore up the flight ticket after my fiancee was gone. My fiancee talking about a big project when I just bought the whole company hours earlier? Well, I'd like to see who was the idiot who worked around their new boss to talk to someone who did not exist.

When I witness my husband, Wayne Donaldson, and Valeria Meadows, a poor scholarship student he had been funding, exiting the hospital with a baby, I finally realize that Wayne has been lying to me about the fact that he got drugged by others. That day, I file for a divorce from him. But Wayne grips my hand and promises me, "Don't worry, you'll be the only Mrs. Donaldson. She won't be able to affect your position in any way." I just laugh in his face. He thinks I choose to be with him because of his money. But what he doesn't know is that my dad is the richest man in the city. Even the Donaldsons' ascent through the ranks is all thanks to my secretive help. That night, I send my dad two texts. The first one writes, "I agree to enter a marriage alliance with Mason Frost." The second one writes, "You can terminate all investments devoted to the Donaldsons right now."

At the company's annual party, my fiancée, the CEO, was chosen for a game called "opposite-gender squats." With the whole room cheering, she did not hesitate. She jumped onto a young male intern and wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. He held her by the hips as he lifted and lowered her again and again, while she laughed as if she did not have a care in the world. Then came the second round: blindfolded face recognition. When her hands reached the intern, her fingers lingered on his lips and traced them slowly. He suddenly licked her fingertips. Right there, in front of everyone, he smirked. "Miss Smith, your hands are really soft. The way you touched my lips just now… that felt amazing. This kind of perk beats any year-end bonus. You smell incredible, Andrea." Her face flushed red, but she did not deny it. She only smiled, shy and pleased. That was when I let out a cold laugh. "If you like it that much, I will assign you as the CEO's assistant. All business trips next year, you two can go together." Her expression changed instantly. "Daniel, what is with the attitude? Can't you handle a game? It's just for fun. Why are you making such a big deal out of it? Who is going to dare play with me after this?" "Fine. If you enjoy playing so much, then go play with him. Because that CEO seat is about to belong to someone else," I muttered.

My mother-in-law, Eleanor, was having a heart attack, and my husband, Ben Dover—a heart surgeon—was the only one who could save her. Did I call him? Nope. I just stood there, watching her gasp like a fish out of water. In my last life, I'd begged Ben to come save her. He brushed me off, accusing me of interrupting his time with his mistress, Ima Schit. No matter how much I pleaded, he wouldn't come. Eleanor had died in the hospital. And when Johnny, my father-in-law, demanded answers, Ben flipped the script, saying I'd never even called. He made Eleanor's death my fault. Johnny, blinded by grief and fury, killed me. But plot twist—I woke up. Right back to the day this circus started.

"Genie" His voice was barely a whisper, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. "This is so wrong, we can't be doing this." His lips find their way back to mine, trailing the bottom lip with his tongue. "So so wrong" He pulled my lower lips in, biting on them. I stifled a moan. "I know," I managed to say. I could feel the warm slickness ache between my legs. "We shouldn't be doing this. You're my step brother." My body doesn't agree with what my mouth is saying. I snuggled closer into his chest wanting to feel the heat of his bare body against mine. I want his mouth against mine, ravaging me like he had done before. We have gone too far to back out now. "Take me, Ryder" Those were the words he needed. Only those three words. Suddenly, he grips the back of my thighs and lifts me up, forcing my legs to wrap around him. Planting me against the wall, he peers up and look straight into my eyes "You're mine" Then his lips came down on mine. I'm yours. I whispered back in the back of my head. ******** Ryder Saint, for years, has bullied me. Reasons? None. It was like he signed a contract from heaven to make my life hell. From the moment he set his eyes on me, he added my name to his list. Don't be fooled by his last name. It's a charade, he's not anything like it. Everything about Ryder Saint smells evil. His heart, dark. His soul, dark. His aura, dark. Except his face. I should have neglected him like I always have, but I couldn't when our parents decided to tie the knots and he became my stepbrother. He and I, under the same roof.

The day I got out of prison, my girlfriend—who I hadn't seen in five years—pulled up in a Maserati to pick me up. In the passenger seat sat a guy in his early twenties, athletic build. His face looked a little too much like mine did when I was younger. Selene told me not to make a scene. Not to want things that were never mine. She said with her status now, she could have as many pretty boys as she wanted. Right now, she only had one. Apparently, he was my replacement. So I shouldn't be so narrow-minded. After all, a guy like me—fresh out of prison with a record—wasn't even in her league anymore. I stared at Selene, a little dazed. She wasn't wrong. But she seemed to have forgotten why I went to prison in the first place.