Index Of Txt Password Novels & Stories

“Let’s have a child….right now,” “What?”Amelia took her steps back in terror, hearing his words. She immediately covered her naked body with her arms which intensified the rage in his eyes. “Yes…... We both hate each other and we both know the only way to break this f*cking marriage of ours is for you to give birth to my child, so….” he uttered through a clenched jaw while opening the buttons of his shirt. Amelia hugged herself more tightly, seeing him coming closer to her. “Stop. You….” He placed his index finger over her lips, halting her words. “Tonight, you will just moan my name,” his voice grew deeper. The rage in his eyes shifted to something more sinful. She swallowed, feeling his palms cupping her naked waist. “This is not….” “Ssshhhh…” he pulled her closer in his arms. “Let me have you tonight, my princess….” Whispering those words, he kissed that girl in his embrace whom he claimed to hate the most in his life. ……….. The deal was simple. Callum Morelli, the ruthless Lycan Prince, needed to kill the werewolf princess, Amelia Ashwood, to break the curse on him of being an infertile, but…..this simple deal took a dark turn when after finding Amelia after a search of years…..instead of killing her, his father commanded him to marry Amelia and make her give birth to his child. But how would Callum make Amelia give birth to his child when he had hated her all his life? He hated her innocent smile, her beautiful green eyes, her softly-warm skin. He hated everything about her, so how? The cruel Lycan prince surely received the answer that one sinful night when he couldn't control himself and touched her like… he owned her. ………..

Julian Hayes spent eight years climbing from first officer to captain of the most coveted international routes. I stood beside him for every mile of that climb. For him, I walked away from the Valenti family, the most feared Mafia name on the East Coast. I buried Elena Valenti, and became Lina Vale, the girl who smiled in the cabin while he ruled the cockpit. The day I left, my father stood on the marble steps of our estate and said, "Elena, if you walk out that gate for him, don’t come crawling back." Julian never knew. To him, I was a woman with no real family, no real power, and no life worth asking about. I was the one who memorized his flight schedule, packed his stomach pills, and kept dinner warm until midnight. Once, I asked him, "Can you take me into the sky the way you see it? Just once." He didn’t even put down his fork. "The cockpit is a workplace, Lina. Not a theme park." I said okay and never asked again. Then one sleepless dawn, I found the encrypted album on his phone. More than forty cockpit photos: cloud seas, blood-red sunsets, double rainbows after storms, the Milky Way over the Atlantic. Every one had been sent to the same contact. A teddy bear emoji. The newest photo showed half a sun hanging off the wingtip. His caption read, [Next time you’re off, I’ll put you in the observer seat. Sit on the right. That’s where the whole sky opens up.] She replied, [I’ll hold you to that.] I put the phone back. I didn’t change the password, didn’t delete the album, didn’t wake him up to beg for an explanation. At dawn, I brewed his coffee like always, sat alone at the kitchen island, and drank mine in silence. Then I sent my resignation letter and called a number I hadn’t touched in eight years. I watched the first flight of the morning rise beyond the Manhattan skyline and said, "Papa, I’m coming home." When the line connected, my father’s voice was colder than a gun barrel. "Have you thought it through?"