Luffy Photo

I'm 29 years old, nearly 30 and so far, my sister and Photography have been my life and soul. Ever since I stepped foot in my first darkroom during my Sophomore year I always had a hunch that this would be my true passion. Since I held my first camera. Set up my first tripod, captured my first photo and filmed my first piece. I just knew that this is what I wanted to do. My life has been a complicated mess since I was 10 years old. My life was thrown away by my parents because I was a burden to them, I had a pen pal who I vented my anger out on for years yet he had become a huge part of my life. I haven't had a serious relationship in...well...ever and It's not every day that you find a man wanting to talk to you...granted, this man is the one who spilt his coffee down me the first time we met and from then on he became the Baine of my existence. I live in Texas City, Houston and I love what I do, the freedom it gives me being behind a camera but it also comes with a price when you least expect it. My life was complicated enough but when I vent out on a secret to this man, my feelings towards him become stir crazy and a whirlwind of emotions. One's I didn't want in the first place because 2 weeks before meeting said man...I was applying for a year long fellow ship abroad. A once in a lifetime opportunity to go to one of Spain's most explored and cultured cities - Barcelona.

"I moaned, bringing my thighs wide, further. "Do you like it, Sienna?" I nodded like an idiot, forgetting the fact that he was my stepbrother. "I do like it, Soren." My breath caught in my chest as I felt warm juice spill through my punani, "I love it, Soren. Everything you do to me." ***** The confused, pleasure-hungry nerd who fell for her stepbrothers? That was me, Sienna Cruz. At first, I thought I'd be able to conquer the urge of wanting my stepbrothers but no, I fell more deeper—lost in the ocean of depravity and Sin. Simon is the calm one, we were close. He was soft hearted and I liked him. Whenever we talked, I would find myself staring at his bulge. His morning erection was damn beautiful. He would ask, "Sienna, are you okay?" I would nod, lying I was but deep down what I craved was every inch of him. All that wanted to break from my lips was "Bury your cock deep in my pussy. Break every wall of restriction." And Soren? He was the demon amongst the twin brothers. I thought I hated him until I found myself staring way too much at the photo mom forced us to take during summer. His Ocean Blue eyes pulled me in. The arrogant smirk on his face spelt more than it looked. He was way too charming. Who did I like more? Simon or Soren? I swear I do not know. Soren was a demon, yet I find myself crawling back to his bed and when Simon flashed that cute smile at me? It made me helpless. Soren's charm was more gripping. I fantasized a lot about his rod and all I wanted was for him to ruin me in the worst way ever.

Aujourd’hui, c’est notre troisième anniversaire de mariage. Le dîner est prêt… mais il n’est jamais rentré. Notre union n’a jamais été faite d’amour, juste d’un malentendu. Trois ans sans enfant, une belle-mère qui ne m’a jamais acceptée, un mari distant, et pourtant… je l’aime encore. Il y a trois jours, j’ai appris que j’étais enceinte. Ce soir, j’espérais lui annoncer la nouvelle. Mais une notification a tout brisé : une photo de lui, en train d’embrasser ma sœur. J’ai reconnu le lieu. J’ai pris mes clés. Je suis rentrée seule. J’ai passé la nuit à pleurer. Dans la chambre d’à côté, ils ont fait l’amour. Et moi, recroquevillée sur un canapé, j’ai touché le fond. Le matin, c’est sa mère qui m’a réveillée avec un seau d’eau glacée. Elle m’a hurlé que je n’étais plus sa belle-fille, que je n’avais plus rien à faire ici. Alors je suis partie , trempée, humiliée, brisée. Mais dans ma poche, il y a ce papier froissé. Le prénom d’un inconnu. Un regard posé sur moi, hier soir. Le seul qui m’ait vraiment vue. Peut-être que c’est là que tout commence.

Millicent Andrews never expected her life to collapse right before her twenty-first birthday. One moment she’s a wife, a best friend, a girl with a future… and the next, she’s staring at her husband Brian Vel in bed and tangled in her best friend’s arms, the betrayal slices her open in ways she can’t begin to stitch shut. The divorce is brutal and the humiliation is even worse. With nowhere else to go, Milli returns to her mom’s house with her sick son. She reopens her small, struggling photo studio, just in time to learn the entire building has already been bought by Damon Hale, a forty-seven-year-old billionaire with a reputation colder than the steel hotels he builds. Damon wants the land, but Milli refuses to give up the last piece of her life that hasn’t been stolen from her. Their fight become heated, and combustible, until he makes her an offer she should never accept: marry him for one year to soothe his mother, live under his roof, follow his every rule…and in return, he’ll save the studio, every shop on the block and her sick son gets the best treatment possible, but she does. They hate each other and they’re nothing alike. The contract is supposed to keep their worlds separated, but forced proximity has sharp fangs. Meanwhile, Brian returns, desperate and regretful, determined to pull Millicent back into his life. While she tries to outrun her past, she discovers a painful truth about her own bloodline that changes everything she thought she knew, all while discovering Damon's darkest secret. What happens to their paper tie, when he discovers she knows the truth who he really is?

Kimberly Wilson had been married to Steven Smith for two years. When Steven proposed a divorce, she agreed without hesitation. Holding a huge fortune, she began to wealth freely. The Wilson family had only one child, so who would be family continuity? Simple, she said, 'Help me post a message offering a high reward for pregnancy.' It read, "Due to my husband's car accident rendering him infertile, seeking a healthy male for surrogacy. Generous compensation." As for the requirements, 'Must be handsome, have an excellent physique, graduated from an Ivy League school, and be good in bed. Price is negotiable.' Her highly efficient personal assistant, whom she had hired at great expense, sent over photos of applicants the next day. One ultimately met her criteria and even exceeded her expectations. The side profile in the photo, noble and aloof, looked familiar. She immediately decided, 'Okay, It's him.' 'He's available anytime, but he has one prerequisite.' her assistant informed. Kimberly raised an eyebrow, 'What requirement?' 'He's a bit shy, so the lights must be off.' Only later did she realize what trouble she had gotten into. The man was not only the sole heir to the multi-billion luxury goods group-Garcia group but also the best friend of her ex-husband. Steven didn't wait for Kimberly to reconcile as usual but instead heard the news of her new romance. Despairing, he said, 'I can live without her. Don't try to persuade me.' But later, drunk, he called in the middle of the night. 'Kiki...' His voice was choked up. A cold male voice responded from the other end, 'May I ask why you're calling my wife in the middle of the night?' '......'

All Seraph Hampton wanted was to dream beyond the orphanage walls. That dream finally becomes reality when she’s picked as the only intern among nine full-time workers. At first, she’s unhappy,until she discovers the company belongs to none other than Luca Zhao. Tech billionaire. National hotcake. And the man she’s secretly crushed on for years. But everything changes when Seraph is accidentally sent to the 60th floor… and walks in on a freshly-showered Luca, wrapped in nothing but a towel. Her impulsive fangirl instincts take over,she hugs him. Luca’s classy, bossy, and sharp-tongued assistant, Miss Harper, walks in and nearly fires her. But Luca redeems Seraph on the spot, promoting her from intern to personal assistant,sending Miss Harper into silent flames. Working beside Luca should’ve been a dream. Instead, it becomes a twisted game of secrets. A hidden photo album reveals the unthinkable: her late mother once married Fernandez—Luca’s father. Which makes him her stepbrother. And that’s only the beginning… The storm hits when a feared and powerful figure known only as The Don of Dawn arrives Seraph’s real father, who abandoned them. Just as Seraph tries to process this, Miss Harper,Luca’s manipulative assistant— calls this same man Dad. Secret half-sisters. Forbidden attraction. A forced engagement bound by legacy and blood. Now Seraph is caught between dangerous love and truths. As she hacks phones, sneaks through private doors, and digs into elite secrets, she’s torn between revenge… and the one man who might be innocent in it all—Luca Zhao. As kisses and intimate moments turn into confessions, and loyalty is tested on every side, one thing is clear: This isn’t just an internship. It’s a battlefield. And Seraph Hampton is the unknown weapon.

Le jour des cinq ans de mon fils Oliver, je lui avais préparé son gâteau préféré, sans allergènes. Et ce jour-là, il m'a dit qu'il voulait que Rachel, la secrétaire de mon mari, soit sa maman. Pendant que je travaillais sans relâche pour offrir à mon mari et à mon fils une vie privilégiée, ils sont allés au parc d'attractions avec Rachel, pour manger des glaces ensemble. Même après ça, j'ai continué à faire des heures supplémentaires pour soigner mes patients… alors qu'à la maternelle, Oliver a nié que j'étais sa mère, affirmant que Rachel était sa "maman biologique". Et pourtant, j'ai continué à croire leurs belles paroles. Même quand j'ai découvert une vieille photo de Derek et Rachel, prise bien avant que je ne rencontre mon mari. Je croyais qu'en tant que Guérisseuse en chef de la Meute de la Lune de Sang, je pouvais réparer n'importe quelle blessure… Mais certaines trahisons sont trop profondes, même pour la magie la plus puissante. Il est temps, désormais, qu'ils comprennent combien j'ai payé pour construire notre "petite famille parfaite". Il est temps qu'ils me rendent tout ce que je leur ai donné.

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.

Louis Bernard a ingéré par erreur un nouvel hallucinogène, et sa situation est devenue critique, en tant que médecin de famille, j'ai été forcée de devenir son antidote. Je suis née avec une grande fertilité, et je suis tombée enceinte après une seule fois. Après l'avoir épousé, j'ai donné naissance pour lui à des jumeaux, un garçon et une fille, intelligents et pleins d'esprit. Mais après le mariage, Louis n'a pas permis aux enfants de l'appeler papa et a passé ses journées à se saouler en tenant la photo de son premier amour. Au cours de notre dixième année de mariage, il a mis le feu et nous a brûlés vifs, moi et les enfants, dans la cave. Il s'est avéré qu'au fond de son cœur, il m'en a toujours voulu de l'avoir sauvé ce jour-là. Il a obstinément cru que j'étais intervenue exprès à son moment de faiblesse, dans le seul but de grimper les échelons sociaux. Cela a entraîné la rupture de sa relation avec son premier amour, qui, bouleversée, a eu un accident de voiture. En rouvrant les yeux, j'ai découvert que j'étais revenue au jour où Louis avait pris par erreur l'hallucinogène. Cette fois, j'ai volontairement laissé à son premier amour l'occasion de le sauver, et je suis partie vers le bureau…

It was just another morning commute—until he happened. Across the train aisle sat a man who looked like he’d stepped out of a high-end magazine and straight into a power struggle. His voice sliced through the air, sharp and commanding, as he chewed someone out over the phone like he ran the damn universe. Arrogant. Entitled. Dressed like a Wall Street god. Correction: he looked like a god. That’s where the charm ended—or so I thought. When the train screeched to a stop, he stood up in a hurry, stormed off… and left his phone behind. Did I pick it up? Yep. Did I snoop? Absolutely. Photos, contacts, a few mysterious texts—I couldn’t help myself. Did I keep it longer than I should’ve, building stories in my head about the man behind the voice? Yeah… I did that too. When I finally gathered enough nerve to return it, I marched into the glass-and-steel fortress he called an office. He wouldn’t even come out to meet me. So I dropped his phone on the desk outside his office door. And maybe—I left a photo on it first. Not exactly the professional kind. What I didn’t expect? A message. From him. What followed were late-night texts that burned hotter than anything I’d ever known. Words became whispers. Whispers turned into fantasies. I was falling—for someone I hadn’t even really met. He and I? Total opposites. Fire and ice. Chaos and control. But when we finally came face to face, it wasn’t just sparks. It was an inferno. What happened next? Let’s just say… falling for him was the easy part. Surviving what came after? That’s where the real story began.