My Mr Perfect Novels & Stories

Or is the real crime that I didn't invite him to my wedding? Mason calmly took a sip of water. "Exactly." Tanya frowned and took his cup away, refilling it with warm water. "Is 'exactly' the only thing you can say? Eric's only like this because we spoiled him growing up. He didn't mean what he said, so—"

"Especially not someone like Ethan Anderson." Her phone buzzed. She ignored it. Daniel squeezed her hand gently. "You're perfect and beautiful just the way you are." He added, "I love you so much and that's what should matter." Daniel leaned in and kissed her. ... Miles away, Ethan sat alone in his apartment. His laptop chimed. A new message. Sender: Boston Heart Institute. He opened it. His eyes scanned the page. Estimated Surgical Cost. He kept reading. The number at the bottom made his stomach drop.

After catching my supposedly frigid wife, Emmy Winslow, aroused by our household robot butler, I swallowed my disgust and sent the machine to a destruction facility. I never expected that decision to cost her life. On the way to chase after the robot, Emmy was involved in a horrific car accident and died at the scene. From that day on, I became notorious in our social circle as the jealous husband who drove his wife to her death. Five years passed. Night after night, I tortured myself by wondering if she would still be alive had I not been so petty over a machine. Until today, while discussing business at a private club, I passed a half-open VIP suite and heard one of Emmy's closest frie

Song for the chapter : Perfectly Imperfect by Ada. *********** ~Kunmi~ It was Aminah parent's anniversary and I was supposed to be dressing up for the party but I just couldn't bring myself to stand up from my bed and get dressed. Aminah had sent their address immediately after our conversation on Thursday and she had even sent a reminder this morning.

"Sorry, but I can't read it." "Why not?" "I'm dyslexic," I state as if it should be obvious. Because it should be if teachers actually read about their students. Which he didn't. So that answers my question. "Miss Miracle, please do not lie," Mr. Asshole sighs again, clearly annoyed. He sure likes sighing. Before I can make a smart ass comment, Isaac steps in. Thank goodness, my brother, I love you! Not really. But like, thank you. "Mr. Prescott, she really is dyslexic. If you took time to read up on your students like you should, then maybe you would know that." So Mr. Prescott is his name. Nah, I like Mr. Asshole better.

Elodie heard the unmistakable sound of a woman’s voice. “What? How are you here?” She heard him ask. He sounded excited to see her, more excited than she had ever seen him. “I don’t know, I got back into the country and I thought I should see you. We have a lot to talk about” The voice said. What the fuck is going on? Elodie thought to herself, approaching slowly. He was yet to notice her presence. “You… I have missed you so terribly” Henry sighed. Elodie’s eyes widened at his heartfelt admission and before she could make her presence known, she watched Henry draw the woman into the house, wrap his arms around her and kissed her square on the lips

They fawned over her. "You're amazing, Miss Chloe!" "We're lucky to work for you!" "Mr. Vance spoils you so much!" Just then, sirens grew louder. Soon, Captain Miller and a few officers walked into the spa. Miller was a man in his forties with a slight paunch, his face a mask of cynicism. He saw Liam and immediately put on a smile. "Mr. Vance, sorry for the trouble." "A small matter," Liam waved his hand dismissively. "Just a couple of professional grifters."

Michael was beside him—tied to a chair. Lena's heart pounded. Mercer smiled for the camera. "Hello, Lena." Mercer's Warning Lena had her fists clenched. "How long has this been live?" she ordered. Noah checked. "Not live. Pre-recorded." Mercer's voice filled the speakers. "You keep following me, but you don't know how to play the game. You think you're tracking me?" He laughed. "I'm letting you play. But games have a cost." Lena's stomach turned.

SKYLA Steph dabbed powder across my jawline, but it couldn’t cover the exhaustion beneath my chestnut skin, not really. No concealer could conceal the damage Carl had done. But now, my image mattered more than the truth. “Try to look soft...” Steph whispered, angling my face towards the light. Soft, she was joking right? Across the green room, Xavier was adjusting his cufflinks with casual precision. Sharp navy suit, a subtle pin on his lapel. His media mask was flawless.

To be sincere, I'm jealous of her, the kind of life she lives is the best definition of a perfect life. You should have seen the way she and her husband were displaying all sorts of romantic stuff. Their Public Display of Affection is top-notch, I'm pretty sure she's not even up to 30. Yet, her life is perfect as that." She said with a smug on her face. "Come on, there's nothing to be jealous about. Nobody's life is perfect," she said making emphasis on the word Perfect twisting her index and middle fingers together dramatically. "At times, most people you think their life is perfect or you think they don't have a problem are going through the hard mill. it might not just be obvious. You kn