Love O2o Novels & Stories

SUSAN Susan's phone wouldn't stop buzzing after Bode posted her pictures from Linda's birthday at the club the other night. In fact, that is her most-liked post on the gram and she still can't get over the fact that people would rather admire half-naked girls than fully clothed ones. She is bewildered as she reads comments upon comments from people who she assumed to be ghost followers and even some of her friends who only remember she exists whenever she posts a cute picture. She scoffs and laughs as she reads Bode's caption to her picture again "this guy is a fool!" Her phone buzzed again, this time it was Henry liking all her club pictures and adding possessive comments on each "Mine" "My

"How were you able to identify it at all?" Dennis seemed to remember then that she was still fairly new to the operation and he calmed himself down to explain. "You see, Miss Months, every item in Olympus's storage has been tagged with a Doomsday beacon, which as the name implies, is only activated when said item is activated in a such a manner as to be classified as a doomsday.

Even though Lorenzo had sincerely professed his love for me countless times, because of the hundred-million-dollar buyout, I couldn't shake the feeling our relationship was a transaction. But then he placed a pigeon's blood ruby ring on my finger. The gem glittered in the sunlight, shining with a light as red as blood. "This is the symbol of the Vitale matriarch," Lorenzo said gently. "From now on, you hold the same power I do." "Half of my legitimate businesses, the ports, the casinos, the hotels, have all been transferred to your name." I looked at him in disbelief. Lorenzo just smiled, a dangerous curve to his lips.

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He did not know how to bring all this to his excited friend's attention so he let him be to avoid sounding jealous. There were just some things a man had to experience. This was one thing that would change his friend forever. With an uneasy heart, Leo played the loyal friend and helped his friend put together a decent-looking outfit and offered him the best bottle of wine his motel had which was not much.

I asked him. Gosh, he was serious! But no matter how persistent Wren was for the honeymoon, it's still useless and nonsensical because honeymoon was for lovers, real lovers. Not a married couple who was dealt for the business. Not a couple where the woman was the only one who's in love.

He was carrying two plastic bags that smelled like a heavenly mix of peanut sauce and toasted garlic. "I come bearing gifts," he announced, kicking the door shut behind him with a heavy thud of his heel. "Pad Thai and Spring Rolls. And I hope you like heat, because the guy at the truck said this will burn your soul." I spun the spaceship-style chair around, plastering on my best, brightest "disowned heiress" smile. "My soul is already burnt," I said lightly, my voice airy and carefree. "But my stomach is empty. You’re a lifesaver, husband."