My Life Dolls Black

He then moved his hands beneath my dress and ripped it apart. I gasped. ''.....You are perfect....'' He whispered, hoarse, unclear. ''Damian'' I hushed. I leaned in closer, deeper into his chest. He stood still behind me caressing the heat on my skin. Fingers grazing my bare stomach, up the ample of my breasts. Circling seductively around them, rubbing slowly on the hardened tips............ ''I'm going to make you scream tonight...'' #### Sky thought she had a perfect life until one night when her innocence was ripped away by someone she trusted the most. The table turned and her life became Darker Than Black!

"จะให้ผม ส่งไปถึงใครก่อนดีครับคุณธีรา แม่คุณ พ่อคุณ หรือบ้านพี่ชายของคุณ" " ผมว่า ตัวจริงคุณสวยกว่าในรูปตั้งเยอะ ทั้งสวย ทั้งขาว หอมหวานไม่มีที่ติ" ธีรากำหมัดของตัวเองแน่นเธออยากจะต่--อยปากคนพูดนัก ทำไมเค้าถึงได้หยาบคายกับเธอขนาดนี้ "อย่าโกรธผัวเลย ผัวแค่อยากจะย้ำกับเมียอีกครั้งว่า อย่าไปไหนกับใครตามลำพังอีก ไม่อย่างนั้น ผัวคนนี้จะเดินเข้าไปที่ สุทธิรักษ์โยธิน แล้วเอารูปกับคลิปที่มี ไปให้พ่อตาแม่ยายดู" ราเชนทร์ หัวเราะออกมาแล้วรวบเอวบางที่สวมเสื้อยืดเอวลอยกับกางเกงยีนส์ขายาวเข้ามาแนบกับตัว เองเอาไว้ พร้อมกับลูบแก้มบางเบาๆ "ถ้าธีไม่ดื้อกับพี่ พี่จะลบรูปให้" คนตัวเล็กดันตัวเองออกมาจากอ้อมกอดทันที "ฉันมีพี่คนเดียว คือพี่คุณเท่านั้น" คนฟังหัวเราะลั่นอีกครั้ง แล้วบอกเสียงดุดันว่า "งั้นก็เรียกผัว ผัวขาแบบนี้ละกัน ดีไหม เมีย"

My fiance, Luca Rossi, cuts off my finger with a cigar cutter to seize Ossuary Signet, my famiglia heirloom. Afterward, he parades it like a trophy and slips the ring onto the finger of Sofia Constanzo, the heiress of the Constanzo famiglia. He mocks me openly. "An orphan like you has no right to wear the ring meant for the future Donna of the Rossi famiglia." Sofia lifts her hand to flaunt the ring, feigning concern as she says, "Alessia, don't be angry. At worst, I will have Luca compensate you with a golden finger later." Everyone present watches me as a joke, yet I laugh out loud. I wipe away my tears and start to applaud. "Congratulations, Luca. You traded one of my fingers for the Rossi famiglia's one and only lifeline." I look at his stunned expression and smile cruelly. "Do you think it's just a ring? No. It is the sole key to unlock the billions in assets under my name. The moment it leaves my hand, the Rossi famiglia begins its countdown to bankruptcy and liquidation."

I never would've imagined I would be the one to deliver protection product to Edgar Graham and his female subordinate. I get to witness him cheating on me. I even politely tell the mistress, "Here's your order. Please give me a good rating."

HA! HA! HA! HA! HA! Cheerful sounds of laughter echoed inside the Xstacy club which is known to be one of the most exclusive and the most ᙭- rated clubs in Abuja. Here inside the club, Rich pot bellied men and handsome playboys enjoy themselves as they lavish and squander bundles of cash both in naira, dollars and pounds on strippers that dance n--kedly before them. While some of them were busy focusing on strippers, some were busy playing cards, while some were busy discussing shady business deals and some were discussing top government secrets. Here in the VIP lounge, Commissioner Badmus and some politicians discuss and argue amongst themsleves about a current government project that didn't sit well with either of them ; Badmus who was more disturbed showed his resentment towards the project. What is the project and made them not to have interest in it is what we are going to find out next...

There's an earthquake. I'm trapped underneath the debris with another young woman. "This woman's chest has been pierced by a steel bar. We have to save her immediately." The rescuers start to approach me when my husband, Quintus Ford, suddenly darts in the other direction. "She's pregnant! Save her first!" I look at him to see him staring at the other young woman in panic. He doesn't know I'm pregnant, too. The doctor who's trying to stop my bleeding shouts, "I can't stop her bleeding! I suspect she has a blood clotting disorder!" I force myself to nod and look at Quintus desperately. However, he says, "I'm her husband. I'll bear the responsibility if anything goes wrong."

The maid's daughter, who grew up in my home, had the nerve to act like an heiress. On her birthday, she invited every kid from school for a full-on rager at my family's villa. When I suggested they take it to a hotel, she lost it. "You don't get to tell me what to do! My friends can party wherever they want!" She added, "The ten-layer cake my parents ordered for me is on the way. Why don't you park yourself by the door and wait for it, huh?" Her crew circled up, laughing and pointing at me. But I'd lived through this before. Nothing about her little act rattled me. I turned to the butler and told him to lock the gate. Then, I went to Rambo's cage. "Hey, buddy," I said, opening it up. "See those trespassers?" I pointed at the crowd. "I'm counting to three. If they're still here, don't let a single one get away."

In New York’s Upper East Side, there were two heirs. One was a speed-obsessed daredevil dominating the racetracks, the other was a brilliant actuary who controlled the flow of capital. Born into powerful families and polar opposites in temperament, yet they grew up side by side as each other’s only best friend. They had fought over girls and bickered endlessly over racing bets. However, at fifteen, there was one thing they did in perfect unison. They each put on the same roughly carved bronze badge. They were trinkets Mia had idly made during a craft class, marked only by a faint “M” scratched on the back. Back then, Mia was seated in the last row of the classroom. Her background was a complete mystery to everyone. Yet they wore that badge for ten whole years. Whether standing on the F1 podium or locking in billion-dollar trades at the exchange, the cheap little badge on their chests never changed. Until Ella showed up. She was the cherished daughter of a rising conglomerate family. She hand-stitched two gold-thread fabric patches and gifted them to them. The patches looked so ordinary they looked like the kind of trinket you would find three for a dollar at a flea market. And yet, they both replaced their bronze badges with her plain patches. Mia did not say anything. She simply folded away an old newspaper clipping with a photo of the three of them smiling together. That night, she called her father in Sicily. Her voice was emotionless. “Papa, I accept the marriage arrangement.”

On the day of our wedding, my fiance Thomas Warsh was killed in a car accident on the way there. His adopted sister rushed toward me, clutching his ashes, accusing me of being a jinx who brought him misfortune. I was drowning in grief when a line of floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [You must remain a widow for three years for your deceased husband. After three years, he will be reincarnated and return to love you again!] [Don’t ever remarry. Otherwise, the male lead will never rest in peace, and you will suffer for the rest of your life!] That was when I learned that my fiancé and I were the hero and heroine of a novel. Only by following the spoilers in the comments and completing the storyline could I reunite with him. I did not remarry. Guided by the comments, I remained a widow for three years, and then another three. However, it was not until I suddenly died from a severe illness that I discovered the truth–the comments had all been written by Thomas. He had faked his death, changed his appearance, married his adopted sister, and fed me endless empty promises so I would continue to slave away for the Warsh family. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day before the wedding.

Three days into the silent treatment, Derrick—my fiancé and CEO—greenlit his assistant's pitch for a self-driving road trip. He expected me to flip, like always. I didn't. A month later, he came back and saw it—I wasn't the same. He backed Molly, stole my project, and thought I'd explode. I didn't. I just helped her draft the proposal. He trashed everything I built, just so she could snag her year-end bonus. I didn't fight back. Took the blame, took the hit. Molly was all smug. "See? Told you. You can't go at Yara head-on. Give her the silent treatment—she folds. She's scared of losing you. That's why she's playing nice." Derrick ate it up. Called her smart. Then he pulled me aside—offered a raise, a promotion, even a fancy wedding. First time he'd ever brought it up. But he missed one detail: he'd already signed off on my resignation while he was off playing road trip king. And I'd already dumped him. That was it. Clean cut. Nothing left.