Image Of A Glass

Billionaire Adi Grenier has silently loved the girl since he was a young teenager. But due to the secrets that he had to burden in his early twenties, he never thought of pursuing her watching her from afar. And so he can only look on as she goes from a happy girl to a woman whose eyes only hold sadness. Now, he has finally settled all the matters that stopped him from pursuing her and so, he is going to cross every obstacle that stops him from getting her… But what he has not expected is that the person he has to fight is none other than the woman of his heart. Faith Heming is not going to risk her heart again.The walls around her heart are not going to be broken down. Not even by the one man who has always held her heart. Excerpt: Allie walked over to the couple, "You really are something, Faith. I need to know your secret.” Faith asked curiously, "Secret?” Allie sipped from her glass with a smile before she continued, "Hmm. You have three lovers. Your ex-husband still dotes on you and is ready to protect you. Your sugar baby is always following you around like a dog wagging its tail and Adi is not even ashamed of having you on his arm." Adi stiffened at the insult ready to defend her when Faith silently gestured to him and smiled lazily,"Why, it's the se* of course, Allie. You counted my ex-husband, my boy toy, my eye candy but I also have a female partner." As the woman frowned in horror, Adi Grenier could only sip his wine to stop his laughter from escaping… Finally, Allie stomped her foot and glared at Adi, "How can you even be with HER?"

My mother marries into the Patterson family with me after her divorce. She marries Thomas Patterson, the dean of a veterinary hospital. Meanwhile, I marry Walter Patterson, a firefighter captain and Thomas' son. On this day, there's a huge storm. I'm almost due for labor, but I still head to the hospital to pick my mother up after an operation. We head to the subway, but it ends up being flooded. I endure the labor contractions and call Walter with trembling hands, wanting to ask for help. He finally answers after hanging up on me 18 times. "What the hell do you want? How stupid can you be, calling me in such a huge storm? "I'm saving lives here! Tracy's foot was cut by glass while being saved, and I've just bandaged her wound. Now, I have to take her dog to Dad's hospital so he can save it. The dog is hanging by a thread; if you need help, get some other firefighter to do it! Don't pester me!" Later, the rescue team arrives. My mother and I are pushed to the back of the crowd, and people won't stop shoving us around. The floodwater rises, and I have no choice but to carry her on my back while trudging along the corridor. This continues for three hours. When we're finally rescued, my mother is already unconscious, and I end up losing my child, who's almost to term. My mother and I look at each other tearfully in the ward we share. I say, "Mom, I'm getting a divorce." She says, "It's not a big deal, sweetheart. I'll do it with you. I've done it once before—I know how this goes."

The Heart Beneath the Thorn — A Modern Beauty and the Beast Retelling 💔 In a glittering city of fortunes and façades, The Heart Beneath the Thorn reimagines Beauty and the Beast through the broken glass of betrayal, redemption, and forbidden love. Emilia Grace, a fierce yet quietly bruised soul, is just trying to survive. Between juggling hospital shifts, family debts, and the ghosts of her past, she’s never had the luxury of dreaming. But fate has a cruel sense of humor when she’s assigned to care for Max Carter—the cold-hearted billionaire who once made her school years a waking nightmare. Max was the golden boy with the cruel smirk—the privileged heir with everything, except peace. Years later, a tragic accident leaves him scarred, not just physically but emotionally. Isolated and emotionally exiled, Max is now a man haunted by his past choices and a legacy wrapped in barbed wire. When Emilia walks back into his life, she's no longer the girl he mocked—she's the woman who might just be his undoing. Forced into each other’s orbit, what begins as a war of words slowly melts into lingering stares, late-night confessions, and an unraveling of everything they thought they knew. Max, the beast of her memories, begins to reveal the tender man beneath the mask—a man who collects poetry he never shares, who builds gardens no one sees, and who might have always loved the girl he couldn’t protect. But trust doesn’t bloom easily in thorn-covered soil. And when old enemies, buried secrets, and a scandalous inheritance come to light, Emilia must decide: can she love the man who once broke her, now that he’s the only one trying to piece her back together? A tale of enemies-to-lovers, second chances.

Maeve Ford after graduating high school decides to leave Cario, Egypt for the united states of America in search of her brother who had gone missing for years, to find some clues which could lead her to her brother, she steals a book sorted out by every illegal syndicate, powerful Clans, and even the Mafia, this makes her become a target, and amidst everything she gets caught up in a misunderstanding, entangled with a cold-hearted Ceo, and with the increasing need to find her brother she goes into a contract marriage with the enemy """""''''''' " Let me be clear Miss Ford" He growled, his voice slightly husky but cold, his gaze never leaving her face as he closed the distance between them, trapping her with his hands against the wall. The fresh musky scent of sandalwood mixed with some other fragrance that would usually put her in a conscious state filled her nostrils but this time she was more concerned with how close their bodies were. Her heart began to race, and her breath caught, she didn't like the way her body reacted to him but she had no control over it. She clenched her fist with her gaze fixed on him, and his on her, his silver-grey eye terrorized her but she wasn't willing to show any form of weakness. He leaned closer toward her ears and she finally let out her breath but the relief was short-lived as she felt his breath on her skin, causing a chill to run down her spine. "I don't care what image you've built to convince.." He whispered, his voice raspy as his words trailed off after which he continued."But, I won't hesitate to kill you, if you so much as pose a threat to his life."

At Manatee high, where wealth whispers through the marble halls and last names open doors, Emma Carter stands out for all the wrong reasons. She’s there on a scholarship — smart, quiet, and completely out of place among the designer uniforms and polished smiles. Her father works long hours as a construction worker, and her mother’s absence still echoes through every choice she makes. All Emma wants is to survive senior year unnoticed. Connor Hayes Charming, confident, and born into old money, he moves through school like he owns it — because, in a way, he does. But behind the perfect image lies someone quietly restless, bored of the shallow routines and expectations his family forces on him. When a class project throws Emma and Connor together, their worlds collide. What starts as polite conversation turns into stolen glances, late-night talks, and moments that make Emma question everything she’s been taught about people like him. For the first time, Connor finds someone who doesn’t care about his last name — someone who sees him. But no everyone is happy about it ,The whispers start. And soon, Emma isn’t sure if she’s part of Connor’s world — or just an experiment in rebellion. As emotions deepen, the line between love and heartbreak blurs. Emma learns that privilege comes with its own cages, and Connor realizes that sincerity can’t be bought. Together, they must decide whether what they have can survive the pressure of judgment, jealousy, and fear — or if love alone isn’t enough to bridge two very different worlds. “Emma and Connor” is a coming-of-age romance about class, courage, and finding where you belong — even when the world tells you that you don’t.

I stepped closer. Close enough to smell his cologne—cedarwood, leather, and power. My hand moved. Smooth, practiced. The pistol slide from under the apron into my palm. I raised it fast. But before I could pull the trigger— BANG. Not my shot. A scream tore through the restaurant as another man launched himself toward Romano’s table, blade flashing. Another assassin. What the hell— Romano didn’t flinch. He shoved the table forward, knocking the attacker off balance. The blade scraped across wood, not skin. I ducked instinctively as the room erupted into chaos. Gunfire cracked. Glass exploded. People screamed and dove for cover. “Get him out—NOW!” one of the guards barked. I aimed for the second attacker. Didn’t even hesitate. One shot—head. Gone. The guard saw me. Confusion flashed in his eyes. Then rage. I ran. I weaved between overturned chairs, plates, and screaming bodies. The smell of blood was real now, thick in the air. One of the guards grabbed me. I slammed my elbow into his ribs, twisted, and brought the butt of my gun down on his skull. He dropped like a sack of bricks. Out. I had to get out. My boots pounded the floor as I tore through the narrow hallway. But then— “Elisa.” His voice stopped me cold. I turned. Antonio Romano stood in the middle of the carnage, suit untouched, blood spattered behind him like art. His eyes were on me. And he was smiling. It was darker. Slower. Like a hunter seeing something worth chasing. Somehow, he knew who I was. “Interesting,” he said softly, tilting his head. “They sent you.” I didn’t answer. I ran. But that voice followed me. He knew my name. And he let me go. This wasn’t over. It had just begun.

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.

Domenico Pietro de Cerintti, in the eyes of everyone was the good boy, the sacrificial lamb, the one who attended all the classes and obeyed all the rules, the one who would not let a puppy get run over by a car, the one who didn't have a girl in his bed every Friday night, the one who didn't smirk, the one who girls liked but never wanted, the one who girls used and dumped, the one who wasn't badass. He lived with that image, was content with it even with the bullying until a certain day when they crossed the line, the one line they were never to cross. He disappeared. And appeared months later, in college; the college that had a good percent of his highschool student in attendance; changed, for the worse. Rosetta D'armani, one of his mates in highschool and now his mate in college, who never bullied him but who also never saved him from the bullies. She was, as defined by the male folk, hot, sexy, drool worthy. She saw him on his first day back and lusted after him. She followed him, sought after him, chased after him with every breath in her. He made her lick his heels. After all he was badass now. He smirked now, he had girls in his bed not only every Friday night but every night, the girls wanted him, he used and dumped them now, he was badass. But oh...those bullies didn't know his definition of badass. Badass for him meant revenge. He would revenge on each one of them including his beloved girlfriend. He'd show them just how hot badass burned. One mysterious girl, one desperate girl, one perfect girl and one revengeful boy. ???

As the son of Zephyr and Avani, Ancalagon is the last pure dragon. Because of his time in a scientist’s laboratory, he not only has the air and earth elements, but also fire and water, making him the only dragon in history to have all four elements. However, the scientist created a flaw in Ancalagon's DNA. If he isn’t claimed by his mate, he could lose his humanity. Eliane is the daughter of Oliver, the scientist who tortured Ancalagon. She, herself, was experimented on, never seeing the outdoors until the night the dragons came for Ancalagon. When Ancalagon tried to rescue her, Oliver snatched her away and for months he tortured her in the same way that he'd tortured Ancalagon. Eventually, Eliane believed that Ancalagon left her to suffer at her father's hands. When she finally escapes, Eliane runs, trying to hide from all supernaturals. She begins having blackouts, large periods of time where she has no recollection of what happens to her. It’s during one of these blackouts, that she meets Snow, another dragon. They become friends and begin helping each other, protecting each other from the bad hybrids who are hunting them. When Snow shifts, telling Elianne that his name is Iniko, he leaves a strange mark on her, his image over her heart. It forges a deeper connection between them and when the bad hybrids capture him, she runs to the elemental dragons for help. What will happen when Ancalagon realizes that his brother has been claimed by his mate? How will Eliane react when she realizes that Ancalagon has been searching for her all this time. Will she be able to heal his broken DNA and help him regain his humanity, or will she leave him, breaking what's left of Ancalagon?

> “Stay still, Little Thorn… I want to taste you slowly.” His voice was velvet and ruin. His mouth, a weapon. And I—fool that I was—leaned closer. Before death wore a suit and called itself a lover, I used to believe in beauty. Before the blood. Before the runes. Before I painted the image that killed my parents—I believed my art could save me. Now I know better. I was just weeks from graduating when the painting came to me like a fever. I didn’t choose it. I didn’t plan it. My hands moved, possessed, dragging symbols I’d never seen and a face I’d never forgotten—his. Eyes red as wine. A crown pierced with thorns. And a girl in the center… me. Offering herself. I signed it with a mark I didn’t recognize. I sold it to a stranger. And days later, my parents were dead—no wounds, no reason, just... gone. The police said stress. I say fate. Now I’m being hunted by a world I didn’t know existed. Vampires with ancient courts and older grudges. Symbols that whisper in my blood. And Lucien D’Aragon—the vampire who says I summoned him with my brushstroke. That I belong to him. He says I’m his prophecy. His ruin. His Little Thorn. But I’m not just prey. Something is waking in me. Something hungry. Something I was never meant to survive. If I give in, I lose everything. If I fight, I might finally learn the truth. About my art. About my bloodline. About what really happened that night. And why he keeps whispering that I was painted for ruin... but made for him.