Lucky Vip

I had been married to Matthew Zackman for 20 years, taken care of my bedridden mother-in-law for ten years, and supported him as he transformed from a rural teacher to a well-known professor. Everyone called me a model of a virtuous wife and a great contributor to the Zackman family. When my mother-in-law was on her deathbed, she held my hand and said that she still wanted me to be her daughter-in-law in her next life. Matthew had held me in his arms and said gratefully, "Jamie, you've worked so hard all these years. I'll make it up to you in the future." I thought the hard times were finally over, but my mother-in-law had just passed away when he handed me a divorce agreement and embraced my best friend, who had grown up with me. He said, "Jamie Lingsworth, I've endured this marriage for 20 years and am finally free. Rosie is the one I've loved all along." I left the marriage empty-handed and was forced to wander the streets until a car accident ended my life. When I reopened my eyes, I had returned to the day of my blind date 20 years ago. The matchmaker was enthusiastically praising Matthew, "This young man is a diamond in the rough! He's kind and filial. Whoever marries him is one lucky woman!" I looked at the polite and sincere-looking man across from me and smiled. Then, I threw the matchmaking document in my hand into the trash can. "Sorry, I don't think we're a good match."

What if you are invited in a falling game? Where your heart is in contingency. You need to act like a real couple in one whole month with activities you need to do together. What's the percentage of you not falling in love? Can you distinguish if he/she shows genuine gesture or is it a trap to make you fall? The prices are immersive, hard to nod off. Will you chose money or love? Or are you dictate your heart for the sake of money? Are you going to fall for uncertain love and vague love? Putting your heart at stake? Or you will play smartly, making your partner fall and ensure your winning place. This is the falling game and everything is fake. Once you fall, you lose. Good day Oxians! You are one of a lucky student to participate in the FALLING GAME. Golden rule: ONCE YOU FALL, YOU LOSE. 1. Exclusive for students of Oxford International School only. Any transferee or exchange students need to sign contracts to avoid problems. 2. Don't kill other participants. You are allowed to harm everyone in the game but killing is a crime. 3. No to inactive. Two absents mean a punishment plus removing to the game. 4. Can do activities and attendances. Failure to comply means a punishment. 5. Act like a real couple. Play your cards well and don't let your heart dictates your mind. We have eyes everywhere. If you are interested, please see us in FG house anytime. For further information and knowledge regarding this game, you may send an email to FGhouse@gmail.com

Three years ago, I've pushed my boyfriend, Niccolo Moretti, into the sea even though he doesn't know how to swim. Then, I leave the scene with my new beau. Niccolo is lucky enough to survive the ordeal. After he gets saved by the Greco family, he's quick to get betrothed to the principessa of the family, Bianca Greco. Everyone claims that I'm a heartless woman who's capable of killing her ex-boyfriend just to be with her new lover. But what they don't know is that I've gotten diagnosed with anterograde amnesia. It feels as though there's an eraser that has erased everything about Niccolo in my mind. Three years later, Niccolo and Bianca bump into me at a restaurant. He gazes at me haughtily, though immense hatred can be seen burning in his eyes. "Elena Mancuso, when you pushed me into the sea and left with another man, did you ever think that your family would get annihilated one day, leaving you without any protection? "To think that the principessa of the Mancuso family is now working at a restaurant as a pathetic waitress!" I don't remember having met the man in front of me at all. "Did you mistake me for someone else, sir?" Niccolo continues to mock me. "Oh, so now you're acting, huh? Fine, we'll go along with your performance. Bring me the menu." Upon hearing that the customers want to dine in this restaurant, I glance at the memo app on my phone before passing a menu to them as per the instructions.

For three years, I slept with my father’s head of security behind everyone’s back. Last night, with one hand at my throat and the other under my dress, he finally asked for a name, a future, something real. “After graduation,” I whispered against his mouth. “Let me finish my defense first. Then we’ll tell them.” “No.” By then I was shaking beneath him on the leather seat. “Then sooner. On my birthday next Friday. I’ll stop hiding then... Cassian, please—gentler...” That seemed to satisfy him. His mouth softened against my skin, and his voice dropped low against my ear. “Good girl. I just want you too much.” The next afternoon, I met my best friend for tea. The moment she opened the passenger door, she spotted the torn foil packet caught beside the seat and lifted a brow. “Bourbon cherry?” she said, already grinning. “That’s our company’s unreleased line. So this is what you’ve been hiding.” I snatched it up and shoved it into my bag. “It’s not public yet.” She frowned. “That’s the strange part. We only sent those samples to a handful of VIP clients.” Then she pulled out her phone. “I did a product follow-up with one of them yesterday, and his private account was basically a shrine to his girlfriend.” She turned the screen toward me. I only looked once, and my whole body went cold. The man in the photo had a line of Latin script inked low across his abdomen. I knew that tattoo. I had kissed it the night before. My fingers started shaking as I opened the private account Cassian had never shown me. April 4. The conservatory. Me and him. April 7. The upstairs studio. Me and him again. April 11—last night. A six-second clip in the back of the car.

“Valerie.” My head snapped up at the sound of my name. The Alpha was standing by the sofa, unbuttoning the neck of his coat. “Come,” he said. “We don’t have much time.” Much time? For what? A chill moved up my arms. I wouldn’t dare ask—not that I needed to. I was not an innocent child anymore. All of my training had been for this moment. There was only one reason why werewolves purchased young, human virgins. Sex. I was a slave. A pet. And my master could do whatever he pleased with me. _________ When the war started. They fought. They slaughtered. We were nearly wiped out on the earth. Surviving humans were classified into three categories: free humans, Servants, and Slaves. My name is Valerie Davis. My parents were accused of committing a crime against the creatures in the war. After their execution, I was captured and sent to the cell as a human slave. I lived in that cell for years before I was transported to a Slave Shop, where I would be picked by a Master. It was during the dry season when I was put in the display box. I wasn't afraid like the other girls, because I was unwanted for my weirdness. I was despised for being the criminals’ daughter. I was lucky, as the masters wouldn’t want to lay a finger on me. But then the Alpha came. When he looked at me, he said he want me. ___________________________ Daily Update!

Before the wedding,Serena Williams caught her fiance with his mistress who is also her best friend. Angrily she called of the wedding and in a bid for revenge she ended up in her ex’s bed . Ben Blackwood is the CEO of the Blackwood Group . He is not only the richest man in the city but also very powerful and the most eligible bachelor. Rumors had it that he is ruthless and cold hearted. Her chest tightened. “He ruined me. Now, I want to return the favor.” Silence stretched between them. Then, suddenly, Ben tilted her chin up with two fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Serena,” he murmured. “But lucky for you… I love danger.” Before she could react, he closed the distance, capturing her lips in a slow, searing kiss. It was nothing like Jake’s touch Ben was in complete control, every movement deliberate, calculated. He tasted of whiskey and power, of promises wrapped in sin. He kissed like a starving wolf ,cruel and teasing ,savoring her surrender before the kill . He was dangerous,but she couldn’t resist . She held on to him tightly, her legs brushing against his side ,a breathing moan escaped her lips . His hands trails up her body ,pushing under her shirt to cup her soft round breast . His teasing touch made shudder as she let out a trembling plea “ is this good enough Mr Blackwood?” “Got to say you’re pretty good”he smirked.

During the mandatory freshman orientation camp, my skin had flared up with a severe allergic reaction, so I didn't use the plastic washbasin the school handed out. Instead, I opened my suitcase and took out the custom silver basin I had brought from home. My roommate, Louisa Carter, immediately made a snide remark, drawling, "You're really something, huh? Kids from broke families like us are lucky to have any basin at all." I didn't bother responding. I simply pulled out my facial essence to do a cold compress, but she immediately rushed over, slapped the bottle out of my hand, and jabbed a finger at my face. "Bet you get tens of thousands a month for living expenses. You have a sugar daddy, don't you? Don't you feel guilty making your folks work their fingers to the bone back on the farm? People like you don't deserve to be at our school. I'm reporting you to the student counselor." I laughed in disbelief and slapped her. … The next morning, the family photo I'd left on my desk had been slashed to ribbons. Across the back, carved in ink, were the words: 'Daughter of a homewrecker. Go to hell.' I went straight to the police. While officers pulled the dorm security footage, our student counselor and the university president rushed in. The moment the president saw the man whose face had been cut apart in my photo, his legs nearly buckled. He almost dropped to his knees.

Graceful, classy, sexy, and many more names are described for 23 years, Ada Elsher Hayes. She is a young billionaire who stood on her own feet because of her hard work and dedication but some people may call her lucky because of her filthy rich parents but people who saw her closely only know her hurdles and struggles to get to the position she is in right now. Ada never shows her emotions or how she reels, everyone around her adapted to her poker face which conveys nothing other than her anger when times come. Ada’s peaceful and well-groomed life got disturbed by a very handsome man who is by the way is a married man.  Cheating is the most hated word in Ada’s life and she swore that she never in her life will cheat but after meeting the handsome greek god for the first time in a club that she forgot the promise she made to never cheat on someone and never help a cheater in cheating. Every moral, every rationality went out of the window the second her eyes land on the tall alluring olive-skinned god who is emitting a dangerous and powerful aura making everyone in the room cower with fear but like many firsts in her life which happened in a minute Ada’s heartbeat begins to race and her core pulsated so hard that she thought she is going to reach her c****x in front of everyone and she clenched her thighs to stop that. She felt like a deer caught in headlights aroused by a stranger.

"Strip for me," he commanded, his ice-blue eyes devouring her. "Tonight, I take what's mine." I thought I knew betrayal when I caught my fiancé's balls-deep in another woman. I thought I'd hit rock bottom when that woman turned out to be my TWIN SISTER. But the real knife in my back? He was her boyfriend first. For eight months, she fed him every secret about me—my fears, my dreams, my insecurities—so he could seduce me, make me fall in love, and destroy me when it hurt the most. Why? Because she's always hated that I'm successful. That I'm respected. That people love me for who I am, not what I look like. So there I was—promoted, engaged, happy—walking into my fiancé's apartment to celebrate... only to find him f*cking my sister against the wall while she smirked at me over his shoulder. "Surprise, sister. He was always mine." I should've gone home. I should've cried. Should've been the victim they wanted me to be. Instead, I walked into the most exclusive bar in New York and caught the attention of the most dangerous man in the city. Dante Ashford. Billionaire. My ex-fiancé's boss. Sex personified. And currently getting pleasured by a beautiful blonde in the VIP lounge—while staring directly at ME. He said my name while another woman's mouth was on him. Then he dismissed her with one cold word: "Leave." When I demanded to know how he knew who I was, he smiled like the devil making a deal. "I know everything about you. Your cheating fiancé and backstabbing sister. I know exactly how to make them pay." His offer was simple: Marry me. Destroy them. I'll give you power, wealth, and revenge. My response shocked us both: "I'll marry you. But first... take my virginity. Tonight."

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.