Miles Teller Top Gun Name Novels & Stories

Layla Miles lives in a posh upper middle-class neighborhood, married to a neurosurgeon, and has a beautiful three-year-old daughter. The only thing missing is Layla’s past memories. When Layla and Damien decide to host a charity event to raise their profiles in Tampa’s high society, two men from her past pop up out of nowhere. With no memory of her former life - or them, she sets out on a mission to finally discover who she is and what had happened on that fate changing night in New York City four years prior. One woman. Three men. What will be the outcome? Warning: This work of fiction contains sexual scenes and graphic language.

Thirty days into our argument, my girlfriend kissed her first love passionately right in front of me. I quietly asked my boss for a transfer to the Northern City branch, which was thousands of miles away. Her friends clapped and teased me. “Ivan, your girlfriend’s getting a new boyfriend. Aren’t you going to win her back?” I held her hand and sincerely said, “I’m sorry.” She looked down at me with a proud smile. “Okay, I forgive you. Tomorrow, pack your things. We’re going to see my parents.” I smiled and agreed. But she did not know I was leaving for Northern City that night.

The Underboss, Gio Rocco, told me that during yesterday's hit by a rival clan, my husband, Don Domenico De Luca, and his secretary were caught together in a compromising situation. When our men broke in, the secretary had barely managed to put her clothes back on. I don't want to believe it, but when I enter the conference room and see the delicate, helpless woman in Domenico's arms, it suddenly seems laughable. Anger surges through me, and I storm up to Domenico. He instinctively steps in front of the woman, shielding her. I press my gun against his forehead. "Domenico, let's get a divorce," I say coldly.

When my father asked me who I wanted to marry for the sake of our family alliance, I made a different choice in this life. I no longer chose Leonardo Vittorio. Instead, I chose his older brother, Ivan Vittorio. My father looked confused. After all, everyone in Chicago knew that Leonardo and I had grown up together. I had chased after him for ten years. As the eldest daughter of the Lucien family, my name had long been inscribed beside his on the list of arranged marriages. Everyone believed our union was destined. Recalling my past life, I forced a bitter smile. Back then, I had indeed married Leonardo as I had always wished. But after our wedding, he never once touched me. I thought he had some unspeakable illness and went to great lengths to cover for him. It wasn't until our sixth wedding anniversary that, by chance, I opened the safe in his study. Inside, neatly arranged, were photos of him with the orphan girl I had begged my father to adopt. In those pictures, there was also a two-year-old boy—their son. They were a happy family of three. It was at that moment that I finally understood. He wasn’t sick. He had never thought of me as his wife. To get rid of me, he and my adoptive sister plotted my murder. Now that I have been given a second chance, I chose to give them my blessing. But when I walked down the aisle in my wedding dress, my hand resting on Ivan’s arm, Leonardo burst into the church with a gun in his hand. He looked deranged and completely out of control. "Madeline!" His voice was hoarse and nearly breaking. "How dare you?"

"Sign the contract. Produce an heir. And never question what happens in the dark." Cora Belmont was not supposed to be here. Her sister was the one meant to marry Roman Falcone — East Coast crime boss, untouchable, allegedly monstrous. Her family didn't give Cora a choice. They gave her a sedative. She woke up in silk sheets, with a contract on the pillow and a pen placed precisely against her lips. Sign it, or your family loses more than you. So Cora signs. She signs away her body, her autonomy, and any illusion she had about what marriage means in a world of men who treat women like ledger entries. What she doesn't sign away is her mind. And her mind begins keeping records. Because her husband is impossible. Some nights he is Roman Falcone — cold, brutal, exacting, who takes what he wants and leaves without a word. Other nights, someone comes to her bedroom who touches her like she is the only precious thing in a world of violence. Who whispers her name like a prayer. Who smells of sandalwood instead of gunsmoke. Cora tells herself she's losing her mind. She sets a camera. She watches the footage. And then a thunderstorm lights up the sky outside her window — and she sees both of them. Roman in the doorway, gun in hand, reeking of fresh blood. And Rocco Falcone — The Shadow, the ghost who was never supposed to exist — still in her bed. They are twins. They are equally dangerous. They are both completely obsessed with her. And when Cora tries to run, she discovers that one Falcone is impossible to escape. Two Falcones simply don't accept the concept of escape at all. The wrong vow was just the beginning.

Working in the Sex Industry isn't always what it's cut out to be. Some find love, like to cause chaos and others just simply try to get away with murder. = Six lives, one book and an endless rollercoaster of fun! = --- Amar lowers our hands, removing the gun from my grasp and he waits for Vanko to re-enter the room, passing him the murder weapon to dispose of. I feel Amar turn away from me and I turn to face him, wrapping my hand around his arm. When he comes to a halt and looks down at my hand, "What now?" I ask him. "You are free to leave." He says as he elevates his gaze to mine, staring me directly in the eyes.

Jane took a glance at his height and just like her he had a pair of beautiful straight long legs, just his was rather manly and firm in those nicely polished dark leather shoes. He was wearing sunglasses, she walked closer to him and just as she suspected, he was the CEO of Brights Entertainment Damon Miles. She had met him once but wasn’t sure if he still remembered her. “Was he also getting married today?” she asked particularly no one. Her thoughts are distracted by the arrival of his secretary. “President, Ms Grey has not arrived” the assistant behind him reported. Damon Miles shook his head in disappointment, “If she can’t make it on time for the marriage, I doubt she will make it in time as my wife” his voice was cold and firm. “No need to come” his assistant panicked as they were working on a condition. He had to get a married bride or no bride. “President, the old man said, you must marry today, even if it has to be nobody” This statement alone made Damon weak. He hearted the fact his life had been dictated at the moment by the old man. Not to mention he hates being powerless. “Pick a random girl from a reputed family, anyone is okay,” Damon Miles ordered. This gave Jane an idea. So he was faced with the same situation as her, Jane smiled. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy, and it was a rather bold step from her end. This was not just any regular man but the king of bright. He could get whosoever he wanted, but she felt the need to walk up to him. “I will be your bride”

Bianca is dying. Acute myeloid leukemia, stage three. The family doctor told me on the phone—bone marrow transplant, only option, perfect match. Identical twins share ninety-nine percent compatibility. I crushed the diagnosis report. My name was at the top: Gemma Blackwell. But the doctor trembled, whispering apologies. A clerical error. The sick twin was Bianca. The cure was me. I had to get home. Rain lashed the taxi windows. I rehearsed the scene: Father setting down his cigar, Mother gasping, me explaining the mix-up. The report has my name, but the blood work is Bianca's. I can fix this before it's too late. My phone lit up. Family group chat. Father's message was short: [Gemma is terminal. Bianca forbidden from donation. Family decision.] My blood turned to ice. They had seen the misdelivered file. They thought I was the one dying—and they had voted to let me rot. When I pushed open the door and saw Father, I felt it— the temperature drop, the world freezing around me. Tears burned my eyes. I couldn't stop them. "Father," I said, my voice barely steady. "I have a question for you." He looked up from his cigar, annoyed. "If it were Bianca dying," I whispered. "Would you have made me give her my marrow?" The room went silent. He set down the cigar. A long pause. "No," he said finally. "Of course. We have resources. We would find another donor. We would never ask you to take that risk." I smiled a little. Just a small, sad smile. "Good," I said softly. "That's exactly what you said. Don't regret this."

Three teenage girls tricked a waiter and hid in a presidential room to escape from two men. .... Two men walked to their presidential room when a waiter who came out from their room informed them that three hostesses were inside their room and claimed that they were invited by them. After informing them he left. Both friends became suspicious because they didn't have habits to invite hostesses. They both entered and searched all over the room but they couldn't find those hostesses. When they about the gave up they found them hiding behind the curtain. They were surprised to see them because two of them girls fooled them a day ago and ran away from them. Now it's their turned to take revenge on them, one of them took out his gun and pointed towards them and wanted to scare them. But... One of the girls was so scared that she pissed on the man's shoes. Seeing it, the man started disgustingly stomping his feet, one girl took advantage of the opportunity, she kicked on his and threw his gun away. And started running from there. But one man caught her and they started fighting while another man chased after two girls. As he grabbed one girl, her friend pounced on his back and locked her legs around his waist, with one hand she grabbed his hair and with the other hand his nose and then started pulling and twisting it. When he tried to pull her down, her friend jumped and hanged on his arm, then dug her sharp teeth on his palm. She felt his blood all over her mouth. The man screamed and his voice echoed in the presidential suite. What a shame... They all are protagonists. But who will win, men or girls?

{SUPPORT = MOTIVATION = MORE UPDATES} Valery Hale ~ All I ever wanted was a comfortable life for me and my brother, Derek. With no parents, I had to work hard to put food on our table. Derek needs to go to school, and I need money for the never-ending bills. Just when life starts getting good, fate decides to throw in a box of scorpions. I can barely make ends meet every month, as if that isn’t hell enough. How am I supposed to make the CEO of a multibillion-dollar company fall in love with me? Did I mention he’s also an Alpha Lycan?   Nathaniel Kress ~ For generations, KressCo. has met the needs of The BloodFlame Pack. Being the next Alpha, I am to also take over as the CEO of the company, but my father won’t let me until I claim someone to replace my deceased Mate. I don’t believe in second-chance Mates and even if I did, not Valery. I should've rejected her from the start because now I can’t get her out of my head. If only I knew she wasn’t the innocent lamb she was so good at pretending to be... -- Jaden points the loaded gun at me. “Valery, you have three months to get the bastard to marry you. Succeed, and you’ll get your brother back in one piece. Fail.” My heart skips a beat at the click sound the gun makes in his hands. “Fail, and I’ll break every bone in his body, then feed him to my sharks.” He threatens with his hand outstretched to me. “It’s simple enough, so do we have a deal?” The Mafia Lord asks, his lips curving to form an evil grin. Like I have a choice. “Yes.” --