Mark Hoffman Jigsaw Mga Nobela at Kwento

Billionaire romance. When Mark comes halfway across the country to find Sutton. He had no idea that the wild beauty would be his very undoing. Unable to keep his hands and heart from being completely tangled up in her, Mark might have bitten off more than he can chew. Sutton knows all about hard times. What she doesn't know, is how to be a Park Avenue princess. But all that is about to change when she inherits billions of dollars. A girl could get used to living like this.

I had been hanging around with Mark Anderson for eight years. People in his circle said I had become addicted to loving him.To what extent had I become addicted?I had become addicted to the point where I didn't hesitate to get rid of any woman who got close to him.In the end, Mark sent me to rehab.Others went to rehab for smoking, drinking, or gaming addiction.But I went to rehab for Mark.Later, I did successfully overcome my addiction to him, but he expressed regret over it.

Lara is a prisoner, she will meet Mark in a hard situation, what will happen?? Both of them are completely devoted to each other...

Sylvia finds herself as the Omega of the Westwood pack, but her real identity is unknown. She gets mistreated by everyone in the pack. She has no friends, no allies, she is all alone. She only wishes to find her mate. Hoping that he will find her worthy. On her recovering bed, she discovers that her biggest torturer, soon-to-be Alpha Caleb is her mate. He rejects her onsight. Without anyone to stick around for, she decides to leave Westwood pack thinking that her troubles will end, only to find out that she has landed into more trouble. She isn't able to find a second chance mate because of the mark on her back, her second chance mate will also have the same mark on his back. The only way for happiness is if they find out about the mark, and recognise each other as mates, only then will they unlock the curse. Despite all challenges Sylvia strives to be better, she trains more, and rises to higher ranks in the new pack she goes to. Dark forces are everywhere looking for her. What makes her so special?

I'm born with a curse, so I never speak another word since I'm old enough to be understanding. Since my six-year-old daughter, Jada Westfield, accidentally knocks over my sick older brother, Cain Westfield, my wife, Serena Harlow, sends her to a dog-training facility immediately. Jada has gotten bitten by dogs in the past, so she's extremely terrified of them. I do everything I can to stop Serena from sending Jada there—even resorting to groveling in front of her, my forehead sticky with blood—yet Serena never spares a glance in my direction. Instead, she helps Cain up to his feet and gently pats the dust off his pants. But the moment she speaks up, her voice is glacial and ruthless. "Don't think I can't tell that Jada did this because you've been secretly grooming her to do so. You're an extremely manipulative mute, after all. Your dirty blood courses through Jada's veins as well. If I don't start teaching her a lesson at an early age, she will eventually grow up as a pathetic loser. "I'm sending her to the facility so that she can learn the rules of this world. She will learn that seniority takes precedence over everything. This also serves as a lesson for you to never harm the person you aren't supposed to engage with!" I finally find Jada, who has gotten trapped in a cage filled with a dozen rabid mutts. Her body has already been torn into pieces. I suppress the pain in my heart as I put pieces of Jada together like a jigsaw puzzle. After more than 20 years, I finally utter my first sentence. "Serena Harlow, I want you to pay the price with your blood, and I want you to lose everything you have in life."

At twenty-eight, I held the dubious honor of being the last unmarried socialite on New York's Upper East Side. Everyone around me was growing increasingly anxious about my single status. In my previous life, my mother arranged a matchmaking cocktail party, where I was told to choose a husband from ten handpicked elite bachelors. I bribed the event planner to place Mark West's profile at the very top—and as I had hoped, I chose him. After we married, Mark treated me with what seemed like tender affection. He even bought me an oceanfront villa in the Hamptons, making me believe I had finally found true love. But that illusion shattered the day I was nine months pregnant, just hours away from giving birth. Mark drove a scalpel straight into my abdomen—then, right in front of me, hurled our newborn onto the floor. "If you hadn't forced me into this marriage with your family's power, Sofia wouldn't have been heartbroken enough to go drinking and get drugged and assaulted. This… this is what you owe her!" He tossed the scalpel aside, then calmly let his private doctor pin down my blood-soaked body. I fought through excruciating pain for six agonizing hours, until I finally bled to death. Afterward, Mark dumped my corpse into the Hudson River. But for Sofia, he hosted a grand funeral—funded with my money, under my name—and paraded himself to the world as a grieving, devoted widower. Given a second chance at life, I refused to step foot in that cursed matchmaking event. Instead, I went straight to my mother with a demand: marry me to Robert Black—the most ruthless, cold-blooded titan of Wall Street, whose scarred face was feared by all. In the end, stripped of my financial backing, Mark's hedge fund collapsed. He became a disgraced fraudster, spat on by everyone on Wall Street.

“Hope you are neat in there.” He croaked. I was speechless for some moment. I tried to figure out what to say to convince him but my head was blank. “It's time.” The master announced. “Mark bundled her into my bedroom.” Tiny tremor ran over my skin when I heard those words. “Please don't do this to me. I'm begging you.” I pleaded. Tears were cascading from my eyes as Mark, one of the guys carried me up in a bridal style and laid me on the bed. The lights were turned off, not giving me an opportunity to see the man's face. This must be hell on earth. Mark left and the master came in, shutting the door behind him. Patricia has been forced into a marriage she wasn't ready for. She's faced with a plethora of challenges ranging from her kidnap, a mysterious woman taking over her home and her mother being her husband's mistress. It was hell on earth. Immerse yourself with this book to find out more suspense, drama and surprising twists.

"I have found your woman" Mark, said through the phone. "What!" James who was coming out of the shopping mall exclaimed "Yes, I saw her in Northland. In very pitiful conditions. She was......." James cut the phone immediately without letting Mark finish with what he wanted to say. "Prepare the jet immediately we are going back to Topland," James told his assistant Toby after he hung up on the phone. He is not prepared to come back home so soon because he is still hurt by the way Catherine abandoned him. However, after receiving such information from Mark he has the urge to see her and ask her why she left him like she did. He thought he could move on with his life, but that girl was irresistible. Her image kept coming back to his memory and made him lose control of his emotions. Fortunately when he least expected he received such news. "The jet is ready boss" Toby announced and instantly James and his men headed to Top Land.

I was born a liar. That was the label my mother gave me. In the Dark Moon Pack, every pup carries a Lunar Mark on their wrist. Green means truth. Red means liar. My twin sister Maya slashed Mommy's ceremonial dress with a blade and blamed the pack hounds. Her wrist stayed soft and green. My mark went crimson when I said I was cold. "Mommy, I'm telling the truth. Please believe me." Elena would crouch down, look me in the eye, and say the same thing every time. "The Goddess's mark is absolute, Selena. Your own heart betrays you." She never touched me. She just looked at my wrist with disgust. No matter how honest I tried to be, my heart would race when I was scared. And every time my pulse spiked, the mark turned red. I lied when I said I was hungry. I lied when I said I loved her. I lied when I cried. After enough years, I stopped fighting back. I started to believe her. Maybe I really was broken. Maybe I was just born wrong. The night I died, I wrote one last line in my Penance Journal. "Mommy, help me. It hurts. Please — just believe me once." She never saw it. She had already locked the door and walked away. I'm sorry, Mommy. I died still trying to get it right. In my next life — will you hold me?

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I found another woman’s lace thong in my bedroom. My husband, Mark Donovan, stood in front of the closet and said coldly, “She’s just a kid, Leslie. Don’t make this ugly.” That “kid” was pregnant with his child. That “kid” had already moved into my home, worn his shirts, slept in my bed, and made him cut down the magnolia tree my dead parents planted for me. Everyone in the Donovan family thought I would scream, cry, and beg. After all, I had loved Mark for nine years. But this time, I only picked up my suitcase. Because they didn’t know one thing. The divorce had already been filed. The Donovan wife’s emerald brooch had already been returned. And the evidence against his precious little mistress had already been delivered to the old Don. Mark thought I was walking out of his mansion. He didn’t know I was walking out of his life. Forever.