Monoma Laugh

"She will come back," she promised. "She just needs time to sort her head out." "Not her heart?" The dry distinction made Charley wince. "I'm sure she loves you," she persisted. "She's just not ready to commit to marriage." If you just give her time, then I— Black eyebrows with a fascinating silken gloss gave her a curious look. "Are you actually standing there, Miss Jones, suggesting that I should wait for Adelina to sort her head out?" Well, was she? Lifting her chin, "If you love her—yes," she insisted. "Then you are a romantic fool because it is not going to happen." He moved suddenly, straightening away from the desk. "There is a wedding arranged for next Saturday morning, and I intend to make sure that it goes ahead." Without a bride? Charley stared at him. "You mean—you're going to find her and drag her back to marry you?" A silly kind of laugh left her throat at the very image of Adelina being dragged by this man down the church aisle, kicking and screaming. ‘No.’ Reaching behind him, his long fingers picked Adelina's letter up again—this time to fold it with slow, neat precision. "I mean to replace her with someone else."I want reparation for being taken for an idiot, and if that means putting you in Adelina's wedding dress and marrying you in her place, then that is what is going to happen."

I was treating some friends to dinner at the private club my cousin owned. When we wrapped up, I waved over a server. "Just put it on Nick's tab." The server nodded, but a manager I'd never seen stepped in to block her. Wearing a smile that never reached her eyes, she said, "Sir, Bosco is a members-only establishment. We don't offer tabs." I felt a flicker of irritation. "I'm the owner's cousin. Just let him know." She let out a sharp, mocking laugh and slapped a bill onto the table. Eighty-eight thousand. Exclusive suite atmosphere maintenance fee, ten thousand. High‑end social network filtration fee, twenty thousand. Spontaneous entertainment ambience enhancement fee, fifteen thousand. And a mess of other miscellaneous charges. Since when did Nick's place dare to bleed customers dry like this? "What's wrong? Can't pay and now you're trying to name‑drop?" She looked me up and down with an arrogant tilt of her chin. "I've seen plenty of our boss's relatives. Not one of them is as broke, pretentious, and shameless as you." Right in front of her, I dialed Nick and put the call on speaker. "Ten minutes," I said. "Make sure she disappears from my sight. Otherwise, I'm revoking your authorization for this club."

When Seth Gibson told me his legs were crippled and that only snowmelt from a mountain's peak could cure him, I did not hesitate. I scaled the mountainside, climbing over 15,000 feet just to get some snow for him. When I staggered back, bruised and scratched, cradling the snow outside the hospital room, I overheard cruel voices down the corridor. "Seth, today's the deadline. Nevaeh still isn't back. Could she have died up there?" "I heard that the mountain's pretty high. She might have gotten altitude sickness. What a shame! She's already risked herself for Seth ninety-nine times. This was supposed to be the last time before the game ended." "Serves her right! She used to bully Janice, Seth's childhood friend, didn't she?" I saw Seth through the crack in the door. He was standing at the window, his legs perfectly intact, and his expression ice-cold. "Enough," he said flatly. "If she dies, the game ends." I froze in disbelief until it finally sank in. Seth had been pretending all along. A laugh nearly escaped me. What a relief! I could finally get rid of this weight on my shoulders. I pulled out my phone and called his uncle. "I'll marry you," I said.

The dying heir to Silverbay's showbiz empire suddenly announces he'll select a bride at random from the city's prominent families, hoping the marriage can bring some luck and save his life. On the night before my own wedding, his men arrive and inform us that the Simmons family has been chosen. My parents have just three days to deliver a daughter to him. As soon as my sister, Roxanne Simmons, hears the news, she breaks down in tears and rushes to my fiance for help. When he sees her crying, Clinton Whitfield drops to his knees in front of me, under everyone's gaze. "Mr. Sterling enjoys tormenting virgins. If Roxanne marries him, who knows what he'll do to her? "But you're already past the marrying age, so he won't be interested in you. Please, help Roxy this once!" He looks away, his voice heavy with guilt as he continues, "Besides, he doesn't have much time left. When you return, I'll marry you." Tears well up in my eyes. I ask, stunned, "And what if I don't want to?" Clinton's gaze turns cold, his earlier guilt replaced by ruthless intent. "Then I'll make sure you go to him myself." I laugh bitterly as a chill runs through me. "Fine. I'll go instead."

We all know how it ends, the story of the sexy cheerleader and the captain of the football team. But this is different. Every cheerleader always dates every guy on the football team it is a "high school achievement". You know how it feels to walk down the hall and have all eyes on you, most of them envy you, some wish they were you, some wants your man and the few just would stop at nothing to drag you down. Well that's a "high school challenge" one way or the other student see school as a battle field in other to meet up with the high status, keeping up appearances, expressing themselves and getting high. Keeping up good grades is only secondary. PROM, PROM, PROM, that's what's on every girls mind and it will be embarrassing when your girls ask "who are you going with" and you say "with no one", "that's a high school walk of shame". High school is like a bed you lay. You can choose how you want to lay it, what matters is you lie on it eventually. By The story of the sexy cheerleader and the captain of the football team are just like the fairy tale story of Cinderella and her prince charming but the question is, does every story end up like that? Still, standing at the far end of the hallway was a simple introvert, trying to cook up the courage to say one word to her. He could see her laugh at her friends jokes, but can she SEE him?

I live in my own world since I was young. Or should I say I closed the door from everyone. My family's brand was music, and I hate it. I became a girl who kept everything to herself and never voice out her opinion. Why would I? It's just a waste of breath, they will never listen to her anyway. Until I met a friend who opened my closed heart and let me know that living with someone was happier. My friend, my best friend, Layla. She becomes my light in my dark world. Everything she does, right or wrong, when she cried or laugh, I will always stay by her side. Yes, I'm a loyal friend. So I tried to help a certain good man that really loved her and could make her happier. But turns out I fell to that man. Hard. Head first. I kept it to myself not until I found out that my friend was in love with another man. Oh, how happy I am. But the problem is, this man clung hardly to my best friend. Oh, what will I gonna do? Should I seduce him? However another problem kept popping. This threats... Who made them? **** This is a story of second female lead of a certain love story being in love with the second male lead. It is not only romance, but also with a hint of a thrill.

I did everything against my beliefs in marriage. The day our worlds collided, I hated his guts. If you think a man who is striking—so damn good-looking, shallow, narcissistic, and extremely rich like Mykel Creed will ask the love of his life to marry him? You’re wrong. It was me who asked—a complete stranger, a hardworking independent woman who took a different path from the family business. Yet, right now, I’m marrying him for my inheritance. I blame myself for my self-defeating action. It doesn’t take long for me to realize my biggest mistake is marrying the right man for the wrong reason until my actions speak the loudest, and my heart starts to get a mind of its own. *** Not so long ago, my only priority was making billions with a little bit of fun along the way. Yet it only took Adley Kross a minute to make me agree to marry her—the woman who called me names. If you think I will laugh in her face, call her nuts, and show her the way out? You’re wrong. Well, I owed her, and now she comes to collect it, but that’s not the point—she had me at the first sway of her ass. I blame myself for being drawn to those sterling eyes and her gorgeous curves. But being with her seems to matter more than my money and being bound to her stupid terms.

I believe it is yours Renee" the way my name rolled off his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure right into my core, causing my legs to squeeze together, but I still couldn’t bring myself to look into his eyes, he extended his hand revealing my lost necklace. "It smells like you." His voice almost breathless. I could feel his chest touch my back. He didn't need to be this close to put a necklace on me. His smell was overpowering me, my legs felt weak causing me to lean into him a little more. “You run really fast; you know?" He said with a laugh, he was so close I could feel his breath fan my ear then I could have sworn he brought his head even closer to the nook of my neck and took a deep breath of my scent. My breath hitched in my lungs, and I squeezed my eyes closed telling myself that this must just be a dream. “There, back where it belongs.” I awkwardly replied. "Thank you, Alpha," I felt like every cell in my body was vibrating. I was becoming very aroused, and it was embarrassing if I barely moved, it might have caused me to moan in pleasure. What would he think of me, being so aroused in his presence.

"Did you ever, even once, imagine yourself loving me?" Sarah posed a hopeful question to Philip. "Don’t make me laugh, Sarah. Everything between us has been purely about pleasure and business.” Sarah had harbored feelings for Philip ever since she first saw him in a sports magazine. When his fiancée abandoned him at the altar to elope with another man, Sarah selflessly offered herself as a replacement bride to spare his embarrassment. After enduring three years of a loveless and toxic marriage, Sarah finally summoned the courage to divorce Philip, who was still pining for his former fiancée. She vowed to herself that she would find another man who would love, trust, and worship her like a queen. This is what she sought if she were to marry a second time. A year later, their paths crossed again. Philip confronted Sarah in a ladies’ restroom, demanding, “Do not let other men touch you!” Sarah remained indifferent; her demeanor noticeably changed. “And what if I do?” she retorted. Philip’s tone grew menacing, “You won’t like what I’d do.” Unfazed, Sarah shot back, “Mr. Cornell, I’ve never liked what you’ve done, even in the past. There’s nothing new about that, and please stop whining like a baby,” before turning and walking away, disdainfully leaving him behind.

Every Thanksgiving, my husband, Salvatore, brings home a showgirl from one of his clubs. He makes me kneel and serve them drinks. A lesson, he calls it, in how to please a man. This was the eighth Thanksgiving, and this time, he brought back a girl poured into a tight leather dress. "She doesn't have any decent jewelry," Salvatore announced. "Give her your heirloom diamond ring. Your grandmother's pearl earrings, too. And take off that silk choker for her." He smirked. "And listen, she's young, doesn't know the rules. You'll have to show her the ropes. Especially how to handle a man in bed." Every member of the Genovese family was watching, waiting for my humiliation. I didn't disappoint. I opened my mouth and asked Salvatore for a divorce. Salvatore let out a sharp, ugly laugh, his eyes full of contempt. "Francesca, you pull this same shit every time," he jeered. "Your act is pathetic. Even more dramatic than your performance in bed." He leaned in. "You really want to divorce me? Fine. I'll give you five million in cash if you actually walk out that door." The living room erupted in laughter. They all said I was playing hard to get, that I didn't know my place. But they didn't know. This was the 88th time I had asked for a divorce, and it was the first time I truly meant it.