Invincible Flying Pose

The Duke was standing in the middle of the room, his hands in his pockets, his head tilted to one side. It was a relaxed, casual pose, and yet the way he looked at her was anything but casual. The deep midnight of his eyes burned and he radiated a subtle, sensual energy that made the air around him crackle. He looked like a man who’d never heard the word ‘no’ in all his life. Unluckily for him, ‘no’ was the only word she had. “There's no reason why I should stay,” Anna clasped her shaking hands together in an effort to still them. “I’m not marrying you.” His gaze flickered, his mouth curving slightly, and she had the disturbing thought that far from putting him off, her insistence was only inciting him further. “But you haven’t heard my proposal yet,” he said mildly. “Isn’t that why you’re here?” “I don’t need to hear it. I already know that my answer will be no.” “Of course. But you can hardly tell your father that you heard me out when you haven’t, in fact, heard me out…. Anna.”

BLURB "Really?" "Yes, but only on one condition" I stayed silent and waited for him to continue. I'd do anything he asks as long as he's willing to help me. "You marry me," he says finally. "What? Marry you?" "Of course, it's going to be fake. The company shareholders want me to get married to keep my inheritance, something about a will my late father left before he passed on. So, I'll agree to help you if you can pose as my fiancé" he explained. ~~~~ Katie had no other choice than to go to Sean Banks when her mother was diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer and has barely a year left to live. Having lost her job the previous months, she was back on bills, with no one else to help, she had to meet her ex, whom she broke his heart with when she ended their relationship abruptly with no reason. Sean is different from the man he used to be, colder and sexier, but agrees to help her under one condition, she poses as his fake fiance to make sure he gets his inheritance check. Will Katrina agree?

One desperate contract. One year to pretend. One chance to change the trajectory of her life. Amelia Davis never expected her past to collide with her present—it almost seemed like a soap opera. When her childhood friend, Dax Hughes, wakes from a three-year coma, and the Chairwoman of Kenzyl group, his mother demands the unthinkable: Amelia must pose as Dax’s wife to help him recover—else pay a staggering debt left off from ten years ago. Bound by obligation and driven by desperation Amelia steps into the world of wealth, lies, and manipulation. What began as strictly business quickly spirals into an undeniable web of lies and deceit. A thin line between pretense and reality is crossed too many times, as her heart is tested—Dax’s charm could not be denied, pulling her whilst he drew closer, igniting feelings and emotions she didn’t care to feel. But when Dax reclaims the life he'd forgotten, old love resurfaces and Amelia's resolve shatters. Can Amelia still go on playing the role of a wife? Or will this fake marriage break her, much more than her heart in ruins?

I paid for a first-class plane ticket with my own money to beat our competitors and locked down a multi-million-dollar deal. By the time I went back with the signed contract, I received a notice of termination. The reason was because I violated the company cost-saving policy, and I was dismissed effective immediately. I was stopped and mocked by Maeve Zolten, the intern assistant. "It's a strict company policy that only train travel is allowed for business trips. You deliberately violated this rule. Should we undermine the company's regulations just for you?" My fiancé and the CEO of the company, Chance Goode, backed her up without hesitation. "As the director, you're taking the lead in violating the rules, setting an extremely negative example!" Through the narrow gap in the blinds, I caught a glimpse of him cheating on me with Maeve. That was when I finally understood all the mistreatment. They clearly misunderstood who owned the deal if they thought firing me ended the story. They fired me for a ticket, but I would walk away with the future. I turned away, pulled out my phone, and made a phone call. "I'll join you and bring in my new energy project worth tens of millions of dollars. Additionally, does your company restrict key employees from flying for business negotiations?"

Pour le monde, Lucas de Bourbon est un désastre. C'est le "voyou" tatoué de l'aristocratie française, récemment expulsé d'un pensionnat suisse et largué dans le manoir immaculé de mon père à Paris. Pour moi, c'est mon nouveau demi-frère — et ma plus grande distraction. Mon père me pose un ultimatum : Donner des cours à Lucas pour qu'il ne rate pas sa dernière année, ou dire adieu à mes rêves de la Sorbonne. Mais son numéro de "méchant garçon stupide" est un mensonge. Dans le silence poussiéreux de la bibliothèque du grenier, Lucas ne regarde pas les livres. Il me regarde. Il connaît mes secrets. Il sait que je ne suis pas aussi "parfaite" que je le prétends. Et plus j'essaie de lui enseigner, plus il m'enseigne… à quel point il est bon d'être mauvaise.

"I'm a stripper, so what?" "You dare speak to me like that?" Ryan growled. "You ungrateful, good-for-nothing, wretched stripper." "You have no right to judge me. You're only privileged by luck." "Don't get too comfortable. You never know what's coming for you. Watch your back." Did I just stand up to the most ruthless and feared billionaire in town? Unfortunately, he's my husband. And I might be in deeper trouble than I thought. Ryan, a spoiled and ruthless 30-year-old billionaire, can't access his father's empire unless he's married. Desperate, he contracts Iris -a bold 26-year-old stripper-to pose as his wife. Iris, with nothing to lose and everything to gain, agrees. But as her life finally seems to come together, shadows from the past threaten to tear it apart. Ryan's hidden identity and a dark family secret push their lives into turmoil, with his manipulative mother determined to keep the truth buried. Will Iris be the key to unlocking Ryan's empire, or will their fake marriage lead to something far more real-like love? And as tensions rise, will the empire fall into unexpected hands?

It is the third year of my marriage when the video of my bodyguard, Julian Sutherland, holding an umbrella over me in a downpour goes viral. Overnight, the internet becomes obsessed with the "Icy Protector and his Forbidden Heiress." Netizens are relentless; they dig through the archives until they unearth a ten-year-old clip. In the video, a girl was holding a pair of high-heeled shoes while sprinting through the Folander airport. My friend teased, "No way, Ms. Serina Brown. Are you really flying back home to confess to that poor man? What could you possibly see in him?" The camera shakes, capturing my youthful face. I was just a reckless 20-year-old. "I love Julian. I love everything about him." That night, after seeing the video, Julian loses his composure and bursts into my room. "I didn't know you loved me back then. I thought… I thought… God, it was never supposed to end like this." I pull my coat around me and stand rooted on the spot, remaining silent. Suddenly, a mocking laugh echoes from behind me. Someone places their hand firmly on my waist and says, "Are you trying to reminisce about your love with my wife right in front of me? Do I look dead to you?"

The night before my fiancé, Soren, and I were supposed to leave for Northern Europe to start our new life, the sounds of a lively discussion drifted from his private club. "Christ, Boss, are you insane? Why the sudden marriage alliance with the Rosetti family to make a play for Italy? Didn't you say you were getting out of the life with Abby and heading north?" Soren leaned back into a leather sofa, his voice nonchalant and muffled by a cloud of smoke. "Plans change. Besides, remember, I'm the one who made her who she is." "Once she sees the new empire I'm building, that little canary will come flying right back to my cage. The woman can't live without me." I stood in the shadows of the club, a wine glass in my hand, a dull ache blooming in my chest. The anniversary gift I had so carefully chosen for Soren was still in my purse, waiting for me to give it to him. I slipped out of the smoke-filled club, tossed the gift into the nearest trash can, and booked a one-way ticket to Northern Europe. But what he didn't know was that just as he could betray our future for Monica, I could abandon him for mine. All those years we spent dancing with death were never just for his sake.

I was always flying for work, so I left the whole renovation thing to my husband, Daxton Pruitt. This time, my flight got scrapped last minute, so I swung by the house to check in. The second I stepped inside, some woman named Mona Scambley, who claimed she was the designer, chucked a stack of invoices at me. Couples' lingerie display case: $15,000. High-end waterbed: $40,000. One glance at that pile of overpriced tacky nonsense made me nauseous. My brows pulled tight. "Ms. Scambley, this is a private house, not some couples' motel. What is all this?" Her face flipped in a heartbeat. She jabbed a finger at me. "The owner gave those orders. You're just the site supervisor. Disobey me again, and I'll have Mr. Pruitt fire you!" Then she spun around and called Daxton right there. I laughed, cold and low, about to ask what kind of clown show designer he'd hired—until I heard his voice. Gentle. Doting. "This is Mona and my love nest. We'll do whatever we want. Don't like it? Get out." I smiled, snatched the list from Mona, and nodded. "Sure." One week later, that overpriced waterbed showed up—Daxton, very much not smiling.

Married in secret for five years, Yvonne Singer always thought I was just a washed-up nobody from a fallen family. What she didn't know was that I was the sole successor to Guzman Group, the world's largest venture capital firm. She tricked me into attending a cocktail party for the sake of her male best friend, Francis Yorke, and forced me to toast my sworn rival. Furious, I shattered the wineglass in my hand and snapped, "Yvonne, don't push me! Believe it or not, with a single word from me, your company can disappear from the stock market by tomorrow!" Panic flickered in her eyes. The next second, she threw herself into my arms. "Honey, I just needed your help. I didn't mean to hurt you." She then personally fed me a hangover pill and gently escorted me to a private room. When I woke up, I was hanging upside down from a drop tower. Francis slammed the switch. I was sent flying dozens of feet into the air, then plummeting straight down into the water. As my consciousness began to waver, I forced myself to make an emergency call. "Mr. Chance, contact global media outlets. Before nightfall, I want headlines showing them begging on the streets!"