Jared Stackable Rings Novels & Stories

My name is Ivy Lawson. At 3:00 am, I get a call from Christina McSpire, a parent of one of my students. "Hello, Ms. Lawson, I noticed Zoe only spent five dollars on her meal yesterday. Did she not eat any meat?" she asks. Pushing through my exhaustion, I reply, "Don't worry, Mrs. Street. I'll check on it tomorrow." Another half hour goes by, and she calls again. "It's supposed to rain tomorrow. Can you remind Zoe to bring an umbrella?" I can hardly keep my eyes open. "Got it," I reply absentmindedly. A few minutes later, my phone rings once more. "Please make sure Zoe brushes her teeth for three minutes. It's also important that she scrubs each side of her face at least three times." Suppressing my frustration, I calmly respond, "Zoe is in her senior year of high school. I'm sure she's capable of taking care of herself." I expect that to be the end of it, but when I wake up, my silenced phone shows over a hundred missed calls.

When Naomi Sullivan married me, she was already ten million dollars in debt. I spent the last five years working three jobs to help her pay off her "debts" while providing for her as well as our son, Shane Lewis. Not once did I ever complain about anything. All along, I firmly believed that my efforts would pay off, and we would eventually lead a good life together. Last week, our company finally secured a massive investment. Naomi and I hugged as we celebrated the occasion. I thought that the hard times were finally over. Today, I ended up seeing Naomi featured in the financial news. Dressed in a formal gown, she was hailed as the sole heiress to a multi-billion-dollar empire. She was shown engaged in an animated conversation with her "investor", Jared Lewis. The news headline read, "Naomi Sullivan Completes Five-Year Adversity Trial, Proves Her Ability to Build from Scratch to the Board of Directors". I trudge home in a daze. When I get there, the five-year-old Shane is playing with the latest limited-edition toy robot. He looks at me with a frosty, distant expression that bears an uncanny resemblance to his mother's. "Mommy told me everything. You failed the trial, Daddy. You care too much about money."

She was an heiress to one of the most prestigious luxury shipping lines in the world, a bi-product of nobility, by birthright, Aurora was meant to oversee multibillion properties and be in charge of the Cunard brand that was well-regarded in the world. But she chose to be an ordinary yet independent woman and pursued a life of service as a cardiothoracic surgeon. To safeguard her family's assets, her parents had to make a deal with someone capable of overseeing something as big and broad as Cunard Shipping while ensuring corporate ownership retains in their bloodline. There was only one way that it can be done. Aurora needed to marry. Not just anyone. She needed to marry someone capable, with a proven track record on managing multi-million properties across all continents, someone their family trusted, and powerful enough to wield authority in handling an inevitable merger. His name was Jared Rickford. Known in the business scene as a ruthless strategist, CEO, President of Rickford Hotels International. Also playboy, ex-military, and a womanizer of the first degree. He was the most unsuitable man Aurora could ever think to be her husband. But she had no choice. She could not play surgeon in the Board Room. She needed the man's expertise to ensure that her family's corporate assets are secured, and she would do anything in her power to safeguard her dying father's legacy. Including agreeing to be married to the devil.

"I'm your husband now, Janice. Give me your hand, and don't do something stupid," Connor Hughes whispered those words that sent shivers down my spine, and I knew I was doomed for the rest of my life. I was supposed to get married to Carl Hughes, but his brother, the person I feared the most in life, showed up instead. Standing in front of the altar together, my heart pounded hard against my chest and the smirk that played on his lips made me regret ever playing a trick on this man. If only I could be given another chance to make things right, but it was too late. Just two weeks ago, I was happy, duping this man, thinking I was smart, little did I know that I would be tying the knot with him today as his wife. "You may exchange your rings now," My heart stopped beating as I watched him slid the diamond ring into my finger while having a deadly smirk playing at the corner of his lips. The ring felt like shackles of bondage, a promise of lifetime nightmares and miseries, something I wasn't sure I would ever be able to escape from. There were only two things involved. It was either I have a happy ending, or a sad one...

I ended up with the person who used to bully me in school. As the morning sunlight seeped into the room, I barely moved my arm when the arm wrapped around my waist tightened, pulling me closer. Ethan Chambers lowered his head to kiss my neck, his deep voice tinged with a husky tone from just waking up. "Did you fall asleep last night?" I froze for a moment before nodding obediently. In the past, I might have resisted, but three weeks with him taught me a simple lesson to be compliant. He took my hand, which rested at my side, and interlaced his fingers with mine, playing with them as if amused. Leaning close to my hair, he let out a low chuckle full of interest. "This time, you didn’t throw away the ring I gave you?" He was referring to the diamond ring on my finger. There had been two others before this one—one I hid in the freezer, and the other I threw into the fountain in the garden downstairs. I didn’t want to think about the consequences of losing the first two rings for now, but the result of the third ring was clear: I was going to marry him, the person I once feared the most.

Nyra Calder has spent three years building a life that does not require anyone to die for it. A quiet apartment. A kind man who loves her. A future that looks nothing like the compound she grew up in, where her father ran his empire on fear and she was trained to be its most precise instrument. She left all of it behind. She told herself she was done. Then her father turns up dead and the phone rings and the compound pulls her back like it never let go. She returns expecting grief. What she gets is a cellar, a drugged drink, and the man she planned to marry watching her fall with a face she has never seen before. Magnus was never who she thought he was. The life she built was constructed on top of something rotten. And the only person in her world who has never once lied to her is Raze Calder, the man she left, the man she has never stopped wanting, the man who looks at her like three years was nothing more than a delay. Nyra does not need saving. She never did. But she is about to find out what she actually needs, and it is nothing like what she chose.

My fiancee gets drunk the day before our wedding. While I'm taking her home, she mistakes me for my best friend. "Jackson, don't bring our child to the wedding tomorrow. I don't want Samuel to know about us." I slam on the brakes, causing Madelyn Wilkinson to hit the seatback and come to her senses. When she realizes it's me, she freezes for a moment before slowly explaining, "Since you heard that, let's call off the wedding for now. You don't have to worry. Jackson doesn't plan on getting married again. But I'm still that child's mother no matter what, so I need to help out. "Jackson's your best friend. You feel sorry for him if he has to raise a child alone, don't you? I'll marry you after my son starts school." I can't help smiling bitterly. "Alright then… I don't have a problem with that." When we get home, she packs up a suitcase and leaves without another word. Feeling a sting in my eyes, I suppress my emotions as I sit on the couch, falling into a daze. That's when my phone rings at the worst possible moment. My childhood friend, Hazel Parsons, says in a hoarse voice, "Sam, don't marry her. Please." I fall silent for a beat. "Alright."

On the third day of attempting to conquer Blake Stone's heart, he confesses his feelings to me. But the thing is, the affection meter displayed above his head shows the number "0". After we start dating, Blake pampers me to no end. He even proposes to me in a grand fashion on our sixth year anniversary. With tears in my eyes, I'm about to nod when I see a range of comments floating across my vision. [Blake must be exhausted from all the acting, huh? He has to reel in his disgust and keep up the act with Joanna for six years in order to protect Keira from her.] [That idiotic replacement actually got so immersed in this act! I'm laughing my ass off right now!] It's as though my blood had transformed into ice. No wonder the number never changed throughout the years. At the same time, the system's icy voice rings out in my mind. "The final phase is now activated. The countdown to the time left to conquer your target's heart has started. You have ten days left. If you fail, you'll be wiped out from this world." I just smile as I draw back my hand that was about to wear his ring. Then, I wipe my tears away. "I'm sorry, but I'm sick and tired of this stupid strategy game."

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

Theodore Callahan has built his entire life on two things: the ice and his reputation. He's a captain, leader and son of a woman who survived hell and raised him to be iron. He does not lose. He does not bend. And he absolutely does not think about Elijah Voss. Elijah Voss is everything Theodore has been trained to hate — polished, untouchable, and annoyingly good at everything Theodore considers his. When a bar fight and a reckless dare birth the most dangerous bet of both their careers, Theodore doesn't think he has anything to lose. Then he loses. What follows should have been simply a debt paid and a night to forget. Instead, it is the beginning of something Theodore has no language for and no safe place to put. And when their parents sit across from each other at a dinner table with rings on their fingers, simple becomes impossible. Now they are living under the same roof, sharing the same hallways, breathing the same air. The bet is still active. The rivalry is still blazing. And something far more dangerous than hatred is building in the space between them. Theodore has always known who he is. He is starting to suspect he has been wrong. As secrets, lies, and temptation spiral out of control, their pride clashes with their desire. With careers, reputations, and hearts on the line, the question remains: in this dangerous game of dominance, who will surrender first—and at what cost?