Novel & Cerita Monday Thursday

It’s Monday and my first day of my new school. I drive my car around to where everyone else is parked, so I find myself a parking spot. Then I find the front office and go in and get my schedule. My first class is math, so I walk into the room and I’m the first one in there so I walk up to the teacher and hand him my paper to sign that I have to take back to the front office this afternoon. “Hello Miss. Billie Green I’m Mrs. Smart. It’s very nice to meet you.” The math teacher says, then sings the paper. You can go find yourself a set. I would try to find one in the front on the left-hand side. The kids pretty much already have the back full.” She tells me, and really it’s okay. I kinda like the front anyway. I make my way to a seat that looks vacant and sit down. Kids start piling in about five minutes later. And walking to their seats, there’s a tiny little girl that comes and seats down behind me. She introduces herself as Shaylee Apple. “Hello Shaylee Apple I’m Billie Green.” I tell her and hold my hand out to shake hers. I turn back around in my seat about the same time as a tall guy that has dirty blonde hair cut into spikes all over, ash gray eyes, so gray I can see the color all the way in my seat. He’s wearing a tight fitted gray shirt, and blue jeans. He has a very handsome face, but then he looks at me and instantly I see hatred in his eyes. What the heck, he doesn’t even know me. .

I never called my stepbrother, Victor Rossi, "brother." I loved him. In my previous life, I forced him to marry me, and we became the most infamously miserable couple in New Hampston's mafia circles. On Monday, he threw me into a lion's cage after starving the beast for three days. On Tuesday, I tied him to a spinning wheel and forced him to play Russian roulette. He hated me for tearing him away from the woman he loved. I hated him because we had grown up side by side, yet even after ten years of marriage, he could not forget the woman from the fishing village. Even in bed, wrapped around each other, we hurled the cruelest curses at one another. When the cruise ship went up in flames, Victor gave me his chance to live. He shoved me onto the last lifeboat, his voice gentler than it had ever been. "This life was exhausting. I don't want to fight with you anymore. Live well. In the next life, let me go." I watched the fire swallow him along with the ship. The deep sea buried everything. The light in my eyes went out with it. I threw myself into the freezing water and ended that absurd, painful life with my own hands. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the moment I forced him to marry me. In this life, I would not destroy us both. As I watched him kneel before me, defiant even in the face of death, I did not drive away the woman he loved as I had before. "I will let you have her." Under Victor's stunned gaze, my eyes reddened as I spoke softly. "This time, I am the one who does not want you."

“Tell me again,” he murmured, his bare chest a hot, dangerous brand against her back. His teeth grazed the shell of her ear, making her shudder. “How you want me to treat you.” She clutched the silk sheets, dragging them up to her chin, hating the tremor in her voice. “I—I want you to be professional.” A low, dark laugh ghosted over her damp skin. “Then stop looking at me like that.” His amused, arctic-blue eyes held hers captive in the bedroom mirror. She squeezed her eyes shut, wondering what in the world she’d gotten herself into. ^ ^ ^ Isabella Rossi’s life shattered when she discovered her boyfriend’s affair with her best friend, Chloe. The happy couple were even expecting a baby, and she was supposed to be happy for them. Hah. Heartbreak was just the beginning. Drunk and deceived, she woke up in the bed of a powerful, enigmatic stranger—Vincent Sinclair. She thought it was a one-time, humiliating mistake. A secret she would bury forever. Until Monday morning, when Vincent Sinclair strolled into her office as the new, ruthless CEO. And she found out he was her ex-best friend Chloe’s half-brother. Flustered but confident, she met his eyes. Men like him didn’t remember girls like her. She was sure of it. He was most likely just an entitled playboy and the faces in his bed probably blurred. But oh, how wrong she was. Vincent Sinclair remembered everything. Finding his "one-night stand" playing the part of a forgettable employee was his new favorite amusement. First, he made her his personal secretary. Then, he made her life a living, tempting hell. Finally, he served her a contract. Not for a raise—for marriage. It was absurd. But with her life in shambles and his offer too lucrative, Isabella signed.