Junior Chef

Ich war im neunten Monat schwanger. Ein ehemaliger Mitarbeiter, der meinen Mann hasste, weil dieser ihn ersetzt hatte, schleppte mich auf das Dach und stich Dutzende Male auf mich ein. Mein Mann, der Chef des Rettungsteams, mobilisierte unterdessen alle seine Leute, um seine depressive Jugendliebe aufzuhalten, die ihre Mietwohnung in Brand setzen wollte. Ich bat ihn nicht um Hilfe. Im letzten Leben hatte ich ihn angefleht, da hatte er sie zurückgelassen, um mich zu retten. Unser Baby und ich überlebten. Sie jedoch kam in den Flammen um, nachdem sie die Wohnung angezündet hatte. Er machte mir äußerlich keine Vorwürfe und buchte sogar einen Privatkreißsaal für mich. Doch genau an meinem Entbindungstag fesselte er mich. Stach auf mich ein. Auf unser Baby. Immer wieder! „Das war alles abgekartet mit ihm, stimmt’s?“, brüllte er. „Diese Messerstiche waren doch nicht schwer! Du wärst bestimmt nicht gestorben!“ „Wenn du Messerstiche so liebst – dann krieg sie jetzt!“ Als ich die Augen aufschlug, war ich zurückgewesen. Zurück auf diesem Dach, als Geisel. Diesmal war mein Entschluss gefasst: Ich würde ihn lassen, damit er sie retten konnte.

Once again the oxygen from my lungs was stolen at the sight of her. I cursed my night vision and knew I was going to be punished when I got home for what I was about to do. Just a kiss. One little kiss wouldn’t hurt, would it? I took a deep breath as I moved closer to her. She shifted nervously. “I-” I pulled her against my body, silencing her words with a passionate kiss. She gasped and I took the opportunity to thrust my tongue inside of her mouth. When she melted against me, I lost control. This was not the plan, but I couldn’t resist her. I picked her up before pressing her against the wall behind her. I know I had been warned against pursuing her, but it was too late for that. I had claimed her first kiss, and now I wanted all of her firsts. My hand moved under her short skirt to brush her wetness. I closed my eyes as she spread her legs. Fuck. I was screwed. I knew it was wrong. She was just a freshman who deserved her first time to be somewhere better than a closet full of musty coats with a junior who had a girlfriend. I pulled back to look into her eyes, trying to resist temptation. She touched her lips, and her eyes closed. Fuck. I was so screwed. I knew at that moment that she was going to be my first, too. ******** Sequel to Hunting Her Hunters. This is Osprey's journey to finding his mate. Follow his path that is full of twists and turns, misunderstandings, and a love so deep that it transcends the normal bounds of a mate bond from day 1.

The day I finally secured an investment worth over 20 million dollars, I walked into the office and immediately caught sight of that calculating assistant wearing a smug look as she spread gossip around. According to her, my husband, the CEO, was planning to strip me of my position and exile me to some forgotten branch in Northreach. Contract in hand, I headed straight for the CEO's office. I stood behind my husband and rubbed his temples while joking casually, "You won't believe what I just heard. Apparently, you're sending me off to a branch office. If only they knew we've been married in secret for seven years and are about to make it public." He didn't look surprised at all. He gently pushed my hand away and smiled. "It's not a rumor. Andrea messed up the last project, and the board is breathing down my neck. They want someone sent to Northreach, and they picked her. That place is brutal. She wouldn't survive it. She's not like you. She doesn't have the luxury of failure. If she goes there, her career is finished. She was my junior back in school. I can't let her life fall apart." He paused, then added softly, "Once you come back, I'll announce our marriage. And I'll make sure you get what you've always wanted. A child." I smiled, but it held no warmth. I turned around and walked out without another word. Before I reached the elevator, I made a call to his biggest competitor. "Looking for a vice president? I'm bringing 20 million dollars of funding with me. I only ask for one thing: Don't send me to Northreach."

After the real son, Asher Vale, was brought back, everything in our house became tied to drawing lots. The chef of the day, who would have to cook a particular person's preferred dishes, had to be decided by drawing lots. Even our parents' kisses and hugs were chosen the same way. I always drew the short stick. The long stick, by default, belonged to Asher. He never had to do anything to receive our parents' love. Whenever I felt it was unfair and wanted to cry, Mom would scold me sharply, "I bought the lot-drawing box because I was afraid you'd feel hurt. I wanted to be fair to both of you. If you want something, decide it yourselves. Your father and I won't interfere. If you can't draw the long stick, you can only blame your bad luck." So I began practicing every day, shaking the box diligently, over and over, in hopes that one day, it would help me earn my parents' love. Unfortunately, for ten years, I never once drew the long stick. Until my birthday. Asher wanted to go to the amusement park, and Mom once again told us to decide by drawing lots. I secretly glued the two short sticks together and handed them to Mom, hoping to keep her with me. She slapped me hard across the face, screaming that I was cheating and disobedient. Then she stormed out of the house with Asher. When I fell to the ground, the short stick stabbed deep into my neck. 'I'm sorry, Mom. Next time, I'll work harder. Next time, I'll definitely draw the long stick.'

J'étais la guérisseuse en chef de la meute, et mon compagnon Marcus n'était qu'un simple guerrier. Tout le monde trouvait que nous faisons un couple mal assorti, mais je m'en moquais. Quand Marcus m'a demandé en mariage, j'ai accepté sans hésiter. Mais le jour de la cérémonie, Serena, son ex, a fait irruption avec un petit garçon. L'enfant a agrippé la jambe de Marcus en criant : « Papa ! » Je pensais à un piège, jusqu'à ce que je voie l'expression de Marcus. Mon cœur s'est glacé : son regard est passé d'une pâleur à une ferveur que je ne lui avais jamais vue. Puis il a soulevé l'enfant avec une délicatesse. « Annule cette cérémonie. Je dois marquer Serena et élever cet enfant avec elle. T'inquiète pas, même si je la marque, mon cœur t'appartiendra toujours. » Il croyait que je l'aimais assez pour accepter d'être sa seconde ? Pas question ! J'ai calmement contacté mon ami d'enfance, l'Alpha Dominic. « J'ai tout préparé pour la cérémonie, il ne manque plus que le héros. Veux-tu venir me marquer ? »

The story of two completely different people where one is cold hearted and void of emotions while the other is hot tempered and really rude.Andrian Carter is a rich business tycoon that has everything at his beck and call. He's a billionaire at the young age of 20.There's nothing he hates as much as he hates commoners and females in this world. He believes commoners are ill fated people who don't deserve to exist in the world of the rich and he believes females are too weak to exist in this world.Skylar Brandon is that cold hearted human that behaves like she doesn't have feelings but deep down she's really soft-hearted. She lost her parents at a tender age and is left with the responsibility of taking care of her younger sister on her own. She's really skillful in taekwando and judo because she practices a lot and watch a lot of movies that has to do with that.Things became hard for Skylar when she was sacked from her place of work because she refused to have s*x with a customer.She's left with no other choice than to go job hunting with her high school results in order to take care of her younger sister. She happened to come across a vacancy at Andrian's company but her qualifications were not good enough. Andrian picks interest in her and decided to make her his personal chef and P. A. What happens when Andrian is to get married within three months when he doesn't even has a girlfriend? He decides to go into a contract marriage with Skylar seeing she's the best option for him but will he be able to put up with her behaviour?Find out in this intriguing story.️ Tricia

"Aku membasuh kakinya setiap hari, menjaga kehormatannya di depan dunia, namun ia membiarkanku mati kedinginan di peraduan kami sendiri." Dua tahun pernikahan seharusnya menjadi waktu yang paling indah bagi sepasang suami-istri. Namun bagi Almira, setiap malam adalah siksaan sunyi. Di balik kemewahan rumah dan perhatian Reza yang tampak sempurna, ada sebuah tembok besar yang tak pernah bisa ditembus. Almira masih suci, sebuah kenyataan pahit yang ia simpan rapat-rapat demi menjaga martabat suaminya yang berprofesi sebagai Chef ternama. Di saat Ibu mertuanya terus menghujaninya dengan tuntutan cucu dan ramuan-ramuan kesuburan yang menyakitkan hati, Reza justru memilih diam. Ia tak berusaha, tak pula jujur. Hasil medis menyatakan ia normal, namun di atas ranjang, ia hanyalah seorang pria asing yang tak pernah mampu menjangkau istrinya. Apa yang disembunyikan Reza? Rahasia gelap apa yang tertinggal di masa lalunya saat bekerja di kapal pesiar hingga membuatnya lumpuh secara psikologis? Ketika kesabaran Almira telah terkuras habis dan janji suci itu mulai terasa seperti jerat, ia dipertemukan dengan Ustadz Rayyan—sosok yang memberinya ruang untuk bernapas, juga bimbingan yang selama ini ia cari. Almira dihadapkan pada satu pilihan sulit: Bertahan dalam pernikahan yang membunuh jiwanya secara perlahan, atau pergi demi mengejar haknya untuk bahagia dan menjadi seorang ibu seutuhnya?

Eu era apenas uma garota das favelas que se apaixonou por Damon Vitale, o Chefão mais temido de Nova York. Por cinco anos, eu dediquei minha vida a ele e cheguei a levar nove tiros para protegê-lo. Ele beijava minhas cicatrizes enquanto eu sangrava, me segurava apertado e me fazia pensar que eu era a sua verdadeira rainha. Então, quando eu me recuperava, ele me fodia com uma paixão tão intensa que chegava a perder os sentidos. Eu achava que ficaríamos juntos. Eu achava que iríamos nos casar. Mas, na nossa 999ª noite, ele me disse que estava noivo. Sua noiva era a princesinha da família rival, Bianca. Eu queria chorar e ele apenas segurou meu queixo, soprou fumaça na minha cara e disse, em meio a risos: — Você achou mesmo que ia se casar comigo, Nora? Vou deixar isso bem claro. A gente transa. Só isso. Você não é minha parceira. É tipo uma obra de arte que eu coleciono ou uma pet da qual sou dono. Uma pet. Era só isso que ele queria de mim. Em vez disso, fiz uma ligação de um telefone criptografado. [Eu aceito sua oferta. Três dias. Me tire de Nova York.]

Once I became pregnant, I was hailed as the most precious woman in the underworld. My husband, the new Don of the Jenkins family, shut down an entire private hospital wing for my check-ups, while my father, the Collins Don, summoned every Michelin-starred chef in New York to the estate, just so I could pick whatever I craved. The baby I carried was destined to be the sole heir of the two most powerful mafia families. But on the day we were to sign the papers securing my child's inheritance, they both vanished. "An urgent family matter came up," my husband, Vincent, said, kissing my forehead. "We can finalize the child's inheritance when we get back. There's no rush." Shortly after they left, I received a link to an anonymous live stream. My father's voice came from the video, colder than I had ever heard it. "You're saying your marriage contract with Evangeline was never valid. Doesn't that make the child a bastard?" Vincent, lounging in a club, blew a smoke ring. Cradled in his arms was my half sister, Sarah. "Evangeline has always had all the love and affection. Her child will want for nothing." "Sarah has been mocked for her status for years. I have to make things right for her, give our child a legitimate name." In that moment, my heart seized, and I could barely breathe. Then my phone vibrated again. It was a text message: "Welcome home to the Gallo family, my queen." "Just give the word, and the child you carry will bear the Gallo name and become the most powerful heir in the American underworld."

Lors d'un dîner de famille, ma mère m'a tendu des photos d'hommes et m'a demandé avec lequel je souhaitais contracter un mariage arrangé. Dans ma vie actuelle, au lieu de choisir la photo de Benoit, j'ai sorti une autre de mon sac. Sur cette photo figurait Charlie Gautier, l'oncle de Benoit, mais surtout, le véritable chef de famille Gautier. Ma mère a été stupéfaite. Après tout, j'étais amoureuse de Benoit pendant de nombreuses années. Pourtant, elle ignorait que dans ma vie antérieure, j'avais épousé Benoit et il rentrait rare à la maison. Je pensais qu'il avait un emploi du temps chargé et je m'étais toujours reprochée pour son indifférence. Le jour de notre vingtième anniversaire de mariage, par accident, j'avais brisé la boîte qu'il gardait précieusement sous clé depuis des années. J'avais alors découvert que la femme qu'il aimait depuis toujours était ma sœur. S'il rentrait rare à la maison, c'était simplement parce qu'il ne voulait pas me voir. Mais lors de mon mariage, voyant que Charlie et moi avons échangé les alliances, Benoit a perdu complètement la raison.