Novel & Cerita My Stomach Hates Me Ice Age

He presses her hard to the wall, but make sure to secure the little girl head, his hands at his ex-wife waist tightened as his trembling lips opened, his voice quivered as he said something near her ears. "I wont be a bad guy anymore Xiara, dont leave me again, okay?" he repeated it over and over again like chanting a spell, but the pit at his stomach only continued to grow. His eyes flash a bit of crazy obsessiveness and paranoia as the hand that hold Xiara head a while ago gently stroke her head with great restraints. Tilting her head, Xiara blinked, "Who are you?"

After my parents died, the family went bankrupt, leaving my brother and me with a large sum of debt. To pay it off, he became a haunted-house test sleeper, while I acted as a corpse on film sets. For five years, we worked tirelessly, not daring to rest a single day—and still, the debt wasn't cleared. By the end of the year, only 13 thousand dollars remained. Gritting my teeth, I signed up as a clinical trial volunteer. When it was over, I dragged 13 thousand dollars in cash, brimming with joy, to show my brother. But I found him frowning, on the phone. "Dad, Mom, Lily's doing well. Have fun abroad," he said. "She's stopped spending recklessly. The punishment ends next year." What? Our parents weren't dead? Our family wasn't bankrupt? The five years of hardship, every ounce of struggle—I'd endured it all as punishment for my love of spending. My smile froze on my face. My stomach churned violently. A mouthful of fresh blood spilled out.

York Langston locked me up for six months. Word on the street was he dropped over 100 million to buy me my own private island. Security here? Tight enough to rival the White House. Even a bird that flew past the area would get shot down on sight. But what nobody knew… All that luxury people envied? To me, it was just a gilded cage. It wasn't until he found a woman who looked almost like me that his interest began to fade. One day, she stormed the island with a gang at her back while he was away. She slashed my tendons and carved up my face with a blade before locking me inside a cage with a rabid dog. I was barely breathing by the time York finally found me. "York, this woman thought she could fool you by imitating me? She must be a spy! You'll have to flay her alive if you want her to talk!"

After an abrupt stampede, Freya was hastily taken to the hospital, yet her mate Kingsley found solace in another woman. For three long years, Freya harbored the hope that her love would thaw Kingsley's icy heart, but alas, her yearning proved to be nothing more than a jest. She observed Kingsley showering the other woman with affection, and now, weary of unrequited devotion, she resolved to depart, vowing to reject him. However, the aloof Kingsley underwent an astonishing transformation, assuming a new persona as he fervently pursued Freya.

My wife, Janice Frost, was an interworld traveler. People like her weren't supposed to form attachments with anyone in another world. But she fell for me the moment she saw me. Every time her feelings stirred, it tore through her, like her soul was being ripped apart. She had endured that pain 99 times. Later, I was abducted and taken to North Kaman. They beat me every day, over and over. Right when I was about to break, I remembered the method Janice once taught me, a way to reach her across worlds. Somehow, I managed to use it. But instead of her voice alone, I heard her speaking with her mentor from the other side. "Janice, how could you contact a resistance group yourself and have them take Samuel? I thought you loved him." Janice's voice was cold and hard. "This ordeal was meant for Tim. I had to do this to save him. Samuel is the main protagonist of this world. He's protected by fate. Nothing will happen to him. Once this mission is done, I can stay in this timeline for good. When that happens, I'll make it up to him." My chest tightened until it felt like it might split open. When those people closed in on me again, I stopped resisting completely.

In the legend she was meant to be cold and unfeeling, a killing machine only meant to destroy and kill and the two races knew this and was more than ready to use her for their selfish reasons. She was meant to be the doom of the whole universe, until she met him…and became his doom instead.

My boyfriend, Miles, finally invited me to his family’s Christmas dinner. I passed out on the way there. Half-conscious, I heard him whisper, “Sorry, Eva. Those thugs said you’re just their boss’s type. Too pretty for your own good, babe. Blame that—not me.” “Don’t be scared. If you help me pay off the debt… maybe they’ll let me have you back. I’ll make it up to you. For the rest of your life, I swear.” He wheeled me through the back of a casino. My family’s casino. The boss he was selling me to… was my brother. Ever since our parents died in a crossfire, my brother had taken full responsibility for me. More than a brother, he’d become a father figure—a protector. My stupid boyfriend should be scared—he had no idea how fiercely my brother protected me, or how ruthless he could be to anyone who dared hurt me.

"I am not my sister. And you can LOVE ME OR HATE ME for that, but you don't get to punish me for her sins." Daniel breaks. The wall doesn't just come down. It collapses. --- Aria Blackwood didn't plan to fall in love with her boss. She planned to keep her head down, do her job, and ignore the way Daniel Cole's presence rearranged every room he entered, including the room inside her chest. Daniel Cole didn't plan to feel anything ever again. Not after Vivienne. Not after the betrayal that stripped him of $50,000, a fake pregnancy that never existed, and every reason to trust a woman's smile. He swore on her name. On her bloodline. On every person who carried her last name. He just didn't know he'd already fallen for one. When the truth surfaces at the worst possible moment, mid-engagement, mid-happiness, mid-finally, Daniel must choose between the wound that shaped him and the woman who healed him without even knowing he was bleeding. Love was never supposed to find him again. It sent the wrong sister anyway.

Ice had seen courage under fire, in many cases literally, back in his SEAL days. But he’d never seen anything like Vixen that day. When he first caught sight of her, she was standing with her feet wide apart, solidly braced on those mile-high, mid-thigh black boots, the ones that he loved fucking her in. Her minute green skirt had ridden high and tight up her perfect legs, and her dark eyes were dilated to black as she grimly stared down the approaching vehicle, shooting and shooting, both hands holding the gun. She’d looked every inch the hot female assassin in some blockbuster Hollywood movie, right down to her hair flowing behind her in the autumn wind. **** Ice Johansson is the Road Devils MC’s Chief Enforcer: cold, ruthless, and built for violence. He doesn’t feel guilt, except where Vix is concerned. Weeks ago, he crossed a line with the one woman who mattered to him. Now an enemy attack leaves her badly injured, and Ice wants one thing: to protect her, if she’ll let him close again. Victoria “Vixen” Shaw owns her reputation as the club’s favorite ride. No shame. No apologies. For eighteen months, though, she’s been Ice’s alone. What he did shattered her trust, but when Ice becomes her caretaker – no sex, no demands, just presence – she begins to see the man beneath the ice. As the Road Devils are pushed to the brink, Ice and Vix find intimacy where they never expected it: clothed, raw, and vulnerable. But if Ice reveals the darkest parts of himself – the violence he embraces to protect his family – can Vix accept him? And even if she does, can loving a man like Ice ever truly be safe?

My cousin, John Anderson, always paid me in tens rather than in thousands. He owned a renovation company, and my team and I always worked hard for his projects. However, he only transferred me thirty dollars for sand and concrete that were worth three thousand dollars. Besides that, he only transferred me one thousand five hundred dollars to finance customized doors and windows worth one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I did not harp on that. Instead, I bore the cost in full, as he was my cousin. That was until his wife, Rory Anderson, scolded me in front of all the workers. “Peter’s a bloodsucker. He never informs us whenever he buys new materials. He must have scammed a lot of money from us! I saw that he got himself a new house and a new car. I bet these are all bought with money he took from us!” John smoked next to us and sighed, “Never mind. He’s family after all.” I was furious when I heard that. I paid more than six hundred thousand dollars’ worth of material fees for him, and he was accusing me of stealing his money? The next client had a mansion and wanted natural marbles worth hundreds of thousands of dollars for his living room floor. John approved the request but only transferred me a thousand dollars to get it sorted out. So, I went to the brick factory located in the countryside and got a truckload of used red bricks from pigpens. Then, I used them for the client’s flooring.