Names That Mean Blade

The Richie Rich who violated my daughter has gotten off unscathed. He sneers and throws a wad of cash in my face. "I'll show you what people mean when they say money makes the world go round!" In that split second, I want to tear him to pieces.

They say distance means so little when the person means so much… But when you mean nothing to that person then, the little distance will definitely mean so much… They say distance is a test of how far love can go but what if there is no love in the first place… They say the worst thing about distance is we don’t know whether they miss you or forget you, but what if they don’t even give a sign that they feel your presence even after looking at you every day… Distance doesn’t just refer to the miles between two persons. Because we are not living in different places far away from each other, but still, there is a distance between us. Is it going to be just there forever? Or will there be any way to reduce it... You may have become my husband, but you made yourself as a stranger to me by forming this distance between us, and I am losing the little hope which I formed in the beginning slowly…

My life was about to be complicated. Meeting a stupidly hot guy after a missed flight, and a kiss that left me dizzy. We agreed: no names, no numbers. Just a hot make out session and goodbye. But when I start my dream job the next week, guess who’s sitting behind the Managers desk? Yep. The airport stranger. Now he’s Mr. Thatcher… aka my boss. Worse? He’s older and engaged. I know I’m not supposed to be thinking about that kiss especially when I’m supposed to be working, but my brain still hasn’t gotten the memo. Office meetings just got a lot more complicated…..

Lieah is punished with a curse she did not deserve. A curse that will undoubtedly cause her to lose her mind, figuratively speaking. She didn't realize it until she went through the same catastrophe three times. What exactly is this curse? Is she going to be able to overcome it? Will she have to go through the same ordeal for the fourth time? Let's have a look at how she overcame this affliction throughout her life. A story that the only thing you can say is, "Love me, Don't." Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

As we make our way to the city hall, Paisley Doyle is struck by regret once again. After seven years together, this is the 11th time we've found ourselves at this crossroads. Every time we reach the city hall, she claims she needs more time to care for her sick first love and can't bring herself to marry me. Unable to hold back any longer, I finally decide to confront her. "If his condition never improves, does that mean you'll never marry me? Tell me, what do I even mean to you?" Paisley's temper ignites, and she snaps back at me without a second thought. "I promised to take care of him for the rest of my life! Can't you stop being so selfish? "Besides, we've been together for seven years. What does it matter if we're not legally married?"

He was busy kissing her. Catching her breath, she took out the dagger and while he’s busy stripping her skirt. Kill. She stabbed his back. He froze as she met his eyes. He growled in pain as she pushed him hard but he grabbed her neck and throw her away. She hold the dagger tightly as she landed on her foot and knee. “You little bitch.” He growled as she raised her dagger, the tip was facing down and the sharp blade was facing him. He could feel the burn on his back as he laughed. “As I expected, you weren’t just a timid girl, Bella.” He watched those blank eyes. Like there’s no soul on it. Kill. There he heard it again as she attacked immediately and he caught her wrist the blade was near on his eyes. He gripped on it and he pinned her down on the floor as he broke her wrist in anger. She growled in pain as she released the dagger. He took it and throw it out. Now with other hand, he reached her right ear and pulled out an earpiece. He crumbled it into pieces as he growled. “Bella!” He growled. “You little traitor.” She whimpered as she tried to kneed him but his knees were on hers, completely holding her down. “Shhh!” He pressed his forehead to hers as he stared right into her eyes. “Bella, Bella. My. Mate.” She froze and stops struggling. He finally let her go as he carried her to bed. He reached her broken wrist and fixed it. Then, he put cloth around it to support it. He pulled out his phone and rang Paxton. Then, he tossed it away. “Mate,” straddled over her and reached her neck.

A Supernatural Reverse Harem. MMFMM "We're meant to be, Annabelle. You can fight the mate bond as much as you want, but it doesn't mean that we're going anywhere. We will never give up on trying to makes this work. We have always been yours and you're ours. Forever will be.."

Sabrina is a human who runs from her abusive ex and finds strength for her child. She runs into a world she doesn’t know or understand with a new possessive rich lover. She has a lot to learn about the expectations of her as the woman in Alpha Sol’s life. What does it mean to be Luna?

Nine students were invited to the mansion of the famous Artist Gregorio Santillan. But, the students were unaware of the danger that awaits them. What do Alyssa's dreams mean? Is that a warning or it just a dream? How Alyssa can save the eight students from the curse of every painting they sign if she is also a prisoner of the cursed painting?

I stepped closer. Close enough to smell his cologne—cedarwood, leather, and power. My hand moved. Smooth, practiced. The pistol slide from under the apron into my palm. I raised it fast. But before I could pull the trigger— BANG. Not my shot. A scream tore through the restaurant as another man launched himself toward Romano’s table, blade flashing. Another assassin. What the hell— Romano didn’t flinch. He shoved the table forward, knocking the attacker off balance. The blade scraped across wood, not skin. I ducked instinctively as the room erupted into chaos. Gunfire cracked. Glass exploded. People screamed and dove for cover. “Get him out—NOW!” one of the guards barked. I aimed for the second attacker. Didn’t even hesitate. One shot—head. Gone. The guard saw me. Confusion flashed in his eyes. Then rage. I ran. I weaved between overturned chairs, plates, and screaming bodies. The smell of blood was real now, thick in the air. One of the guards grabbed me. I slammed my elbow into his ribs, twisted, and brought the butt of my gun down on his skull. He dropped like a sack of bricks. Out. I had to get out. My boots pounded the floor as I tore through the narrow hallway. But then— “Elisa.” His voice stopped me cold. I turned. Antonio Romano stood in the middle of the carnage, suit untouched, blood spattered behind him like art. His eyes were on me. And he was smiling. It was darker. Slower. Like a hunter seeing something worth chasing. Somehow, he knew who I was. “Interesting,” he said softly, tilting his head. “They sent you.” I didn’t answer. I ran. But that voice followed me. He knew my name. And he let me go. This wasn’t over. It had just begun.