It Just Doesn't Matter Bill Murray Novels & Stories

A decade has past since Evangel set her eyes on the man she hated with her whole heart. Her ex boyfriend Trenton Wade. A handsome playboy who broke her heart several years ago. She never expected to see him again and was shocked to find him at her father's birthday as handsome as ever with that devilish smirk on his face pleading for her to smack it off. Worse of it all she never expected to find out that her father has arranged a marriage between her and the bastard. Never. Hell will freeze before Evangel agrees to marry the bastard and she will do everything in her power to make sure it doesn't happen. Trenton Wade has had everything handed over to him. The word responsibility has never been used in the same sentence with his name. All he had ever cared about was women and having fun. He was the resident playboy. A reckless mistake on his path is about to drown his father's company and he must find a way to save it or risk losing everything to his half brother. What better way could he find than running towards their company rival for help, only the help comes with a price. He must marry his daughter. A daughter that turns out to be the woman he hurt years ago and hates his guts Will Trent be able to convince Evangel to marry him and what happens when two others comes into the midst. A drama filled with a lot of twist is what you get.

Drugs disappeared during one of our family’s deals—and everyone knew it was my stepsister, Emily’s fault. Now, our rivals demanded someone be sent to them, held captive until the debt was repaid. My fiancé, my family—they all agreed it should be me. “Emily already got hurt in the mission. You are stronger. You can handle it while we figure things out.” I knew this moment was coming. And so I signed my name. In five days, I’d be sent away. And I have decided that no matter what happened—whether I lived or died—I was done with my family and my fiancé. In those last days, I gave everything I owned away. The casino? To my stepsister, who had always eyed it with envy. My checking account? To my father, who never missed a chance to remind me how useless I was. The engagement ring? Back to the man who’d been fake as hell. They didn’t notice anything off. They just smiled, pleased with how thoughtful I’d suddenly become. When they realized I was gone for good—and that their fragile Emily was their undoing—would they still smile like that? Would they still look so content?

*Smut After her mate's brutal rejection, healing prodigy Sandra surrenders to a dangerously seductive stranger in a dark alley, only to discover he's her uncle Marcus. Trapped by blackmail in his isolated house, forbidden desire ignites between lessons. But Marcus harbors a deadly secret about her father's death. ----------------- “Fuck, Sandra,” he growled, thumb brushing over my nipple through the fabric until it stiffened, aching. “Vanessa’s right upstairs. If she hears us—” “I don’t care,” I panted, rocking up against him, chasing that thick pressure. “Make me forget today. Just tonight. Please.” I’m going straight to hell,” he muttered, then closed the gap. His mouth took mine slow this time, deliberate, like he was memorizing the taste of me. I sighed into it, hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders. He tasted like black coffee and smoke and sin, and I wanted more. He tugged me closer, one hand fisting in my hair, the other splayed low on my back, pressing me against him. Heat flared low in my belly, spreading fast. I shifted, trying to ease the ache between my thighs, and he groaned against my lips, grip tightening. His tongue traced the seam of my mouth; I opened for him instantly, meeting him stroke for stroke until we were both breathing hard. He tilted my head back, lips moving down my throat, teeth grazing the frantic beat of my pulse. I gasped, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. “We should stop,” he rasped against my skin, but his hand was already pushing under my thin tank top, calloused palm gliding up my ribs. “We should,” I agreed breathlessly, then dragged his mouth back to mine, kissing him deeper, hungrier.

During a company team-building event, I collapse from a seafood allergy. Yet my fiance, Frederick Scott, rushes Beatrice Sutton, who only twisted her ankle, to the hospital. I come close to dying because I don't get treatment in time. Later, Frederick explains, "Beatrice is my best friend's sister. He's seriously ill now, and I promised him I'd take care of his sister. I swear I'll keep my distance from her from now on." This isn't the first time I've heard an excuse like that. On our fifth anniversary, Beatrice accidentally deleted a work file and burst into tears out of worry. When Frederick heard about it, he left me stranded on a mountain and drove back to the office himself. I spent a whole day and night walking home through the rain. On Christmas, Beatrice's house lost power. Frederick was worried that she might be scared of being alone, and he rushed over to her place without even telling me, leaving me out in the snow waiting for him until dawn. These kinds of things have happened countless times. Afterward, he always brushes them off with the same excuse. I've long since lost all faith in him and no longer believe a single word he says. I pick up my phone and call the company that keeps reaching out to me. "I've decided to accept your offer from last time. I'll bring the core technology with me."

On the heavy traffic road rushing my father to the hospital due to a cerebral hemorrhage, we ran into my husband, who was directing traffic as a police officer. My mother was about to wind the window down and beg him for help, but I immediately stopped her and decisively turned the steering wheel, taking a narrow side road instead. In my previous life, at this exact situation, after a brief moment of hesitation, my husband had chosen to clear a path for us and personally escorted my father to the hospital. That very night, his childhood sweetheart, out of spite because he hadn't answered her calls, turned on the gas and killed herself. He seemed utterly unaffected by her death. He even organized a welcome-home party for my father when he was discharged from the hospital. But on the day of the party, he poisoned every dish on the table. "It's because of you and your damn father! If it weren't for you, Rosalin wouldn't have killed herself! You're the ones who drove her to death! You should pay for her life!" When I opened my eyes once more, I had returned to the day my father collapsed. This time, my husband answered the phone. Without a second thought, he ran to his childhood sweetheart. Yet, why had he still come to regret it?

One night of desire at my best friend’s wedding and One man I couldn’t forget. I had expected him to be my best friend who I had a crush on for years but now, staring at the stranger in my bed made me realize how I had messed up things badly. With every heartbeat, every glance, pulls me closer to a want I shouldn’t have. “Fuck, Tim… I want to ruin every thought you have about me.” He growled, a small smile making its way to my lips as I unbuckled his belt. I tug the waistband of his pants down. “Ruin me..” I said as his junior springs free from his boxers standing proud, staring at me like it just couldn’t wait for the next action. And I couldn’t either.

Seraphine Hale, a genius musician, announces her return to the country. When a reporter asks whether she's back for her first love, she smiles icily. "Are you talking about that trash? It wouldn't be any of my business even if he were to drop dead tomorrow." What she doesn't know is that I've already been dead for close to a decade.

"You’re a Kane, Daniels. You’re property, not a person." For ten years, those were the only words I heard from the Moretti triplets. As the daughter of disgraced junkies, I was the resident "Charity Case" at the Moretti Family Estate, forced to scrub floors while the three heirs to a billionaire high-tech empire ruled the Blackridge underworld. Nickie, Matteo, and Luca were my tormentors—cruel, breathtaking, and untouchable. Then I turned eighteen. My Noir identity synced, my neural-links flared to life, and the air grew thick with a scent that made my blood boil: Them. In the Biker Mafia world, data doesn't lie, and the code says I belong to all three. Now, the brothers who once dragged me through the dirt are trading their cruelty for a dark, possessive hunger. They’ve cleared their beds and their calendars, determined to claim their match. Genre: Dark Biker Mafia Romance / Contemporary Billionaire Tags: #EnemiesToLovers #SharedMate #ReverseHarem #BikerMafia #HighTechCrime #Triplets

Vanessa was working as a stripper for a couple of years before she decided to call it an end and ran away from the man who she use to work for. She started a fresh life buy what happens when the past catches up on you and you developed feelings for a certain someone you shouldn't have?

Three days before my wedding, Adrian canceled it for the fifty-second time. He came to the Palermo workshop to approve my gown’s crest embroidery, but the moment I stepped out from the fitting curtain, he snatched up his holster and radio. “Torino bastards smashed Bianca’s vineyard, surrounded the estate. Lia’s terrified, so I have to go. The wedding is off.” Once, I would have stopped him and demanded to know who mattered more to him, me or Bianca. This time, I simply let him go. Thirty minutes later, Bianca posted an Instagram Story: [You’re the only shelter for me and my daughter.] The photo showed Adrian holding Bianca close, with Lia in his arms, calling him Dad. They looked like a real family. My parents sighed. “Seraphina, is the wedding in Hawaii off again? We’ve already sent the invitations to every renowned Italian family. What will this do to the Bellini family’s honor?” I shook my head, tapping the backup invite. "The wedding goes on.  In three days, I’ll still be a bride. Just not Adrian’s."