Next Stop Is Unreachable Satisfactory Novels & Stories

Due to my outstanding work performance, my boss grants me special permission to have flexible working hours. I am out until very late last night meeting a client, and I have only been asleep for a while when a call from my colleague wakes me up. "It's already 9:30 am! Why are you late again today?" I explain to her patiently that I worked overtime last night to finalize things with a client and have them sign the contract, so I won't be going into the office in the morning. My colleague snickers. "You'd better not think that you can skip work whenever you like just because you've achieved top sales in our department. "Today is our boss' son, Mr. Hammond's first day in the office. He might just tell you to pack your things and leave if you were to upset him in any way!" Despite the splitting headache I'm having, I try to recall it in my head. Alex Hammond, the man she's just mentioned, sounds very much like that fiance of mine, who desperately wants to tie the knot with me.

Welcome to the next generation of The Royal Wolf Of Zidiah - The Next Generation is here! This book can be read as a standalone or as part of a series. Jai is the second son of Leander and Sara, who are featured in The Romerian Alphas Mate. When Jai meets Melinda, he must fight to prove he is everything she needs. Melinda has never known kindness from anyone other than her mother and baby sister. Born to a violent and abusive man who kidnapped her mother when she was but fifteen years old, Melinda knows nothing but pain and suffering. After finding the courage to free herself, her mother and her baby sister from a monster, is Melinda really free? Jai is everything Melinda's father is not, and with the manifestation of powers she didn't realise she possessed, will Melinda be able to take down the man who has haunted her dreams since babyhood? With Jai by her side, Melinda finds the strength to stand up to those who shun her, but will she escape a madman a second time? Or will Jai lose the mate he cannot live without? PLEASE BEAR IN MIND THAT THIS BOOK IS WRITTEN IN BRITISH ENGLISH, AND SOME WORDS, PHRASES, AND SAYINGS MAY DIFFER FROM OTHER FORMS OF ENGLISH, SUCH AS AMERICAN. ALSO, THE BRITISH TERM FOR A BABY WOLF IS CUB, NOT PUP. BOTH ARE CORRECT TERMS. HOWEVER, PUP IS SELDOM USED IN ENGLAND WHEN REFERRING TO WOLF CUBS. THANK YOU.

Anniversaries were meant to celebrate marriage milestones--- not mayhem wrapped in diamond rings. Too late --------------------- On the night of her wedding anniversary, Laura DeVille's world shattered beyond repair. Betrayed by the man she loved, the angel in her died that night, giving rise to a woman forged of scars and revenge. Worse, she's still pregnant for the man who ruined her. Enters Kaida Crawford: sin in a tuxedo, a man with a ruthless past who offers her a contract marriage, a second chance. But fate has other plans. Her ex-husband, Aaron Kai, returns, his silver eyes blazing with obsession. "I'm your's to break, to bleed, and to kill... But first, tell me he's my son." Trapped between an obsessive past and a possessive future, Laura must choose: The devil who ruined her or the angel pulling her to his dark heavens.

During the holiday, I make a rare trip back to my hometown. After dinner, Dad orders me to wash the dishes. I pause for a moment and ask, "Do we not have a caretaker at home?" Mom frowns and says, "Julia works so hard taking care of us every day. Since you are back, you should let her rest. You should be the one doing everything." I fail to fathom the logic behind her reasoning. So, I argue, "I am paying her to be a caretaker here. Is this not exactly what she is hired to do? How does it make sense that I pay and still have to do the chores myself?" My words make the caretaker, Julia Woodard, cry. My parents get angry at me too. The frown on Mom's face becomes even more pronounced. "What's the point of raising you? We barely see you all year. You are not as thoughtful as Julia! At least she stays by our side every day." Dad points at me and scolds, "You might as well stop coming back. From now on, Julia is our real daughter! Go do whatever you want!" I let out a helpless laugh. I am busy working away from home, but I send a large amount of money back every month and even fork out extra money to hire a caretaker for them. But in the end, they think her as their caring daughter and shower her with affection instead. If that's the case, I'll stop sending money and see whether Julia will still act like their "daughter" for free.

When the half-mile sprint test is about to begin, Quiana Sullivan, the class president, and I have applied to be exempted from it. My own mother, who's the homeroom teacher of my class, approves Quiana's application with a smile. But she then throws mine to the floor. "You're having a chest pain, you say? I can't believe you're able to come up with such lies just to avoid the half-mile sprint! I'd have known if you had a heart condition! "Quiana is weak by nature, not to mention she's on her period right now, so she can't handle the agony. What about you, hmm? You've always been perfectly healthy, yet now you're telling me that you're suffering from heart pain? "Don't go around embarrassing me just because you want to slack off! I don't want others claiming that I'm being biased toward my own child! As long as you're still alive and kicking, you must finish the half-mile course no matter what!" Left without a choice, I can only return to the field. The cold wind makes me feel even dizzier now. My heart keeps contracting uncontrollably against my will. Suddenly, it just stops pumping. The next thing I know, I collapse onto the grassy field heavily. When my consciousness is about to flicker to darkness, my mom finally walks over to me. But she merely kicks my arm with a frown on her face, and her tone remains glacial. "Stop playing dead. Get up right now." She doesn't realize that I can never open my eyes ever again. Isn't this great, Mom? No one will ever claim that you're biased toward your own child. I've used my life to prove how fair and just you are. You must be happy now, right?

From as far back as I can remember, I knew my mom hated me. She gives me sleeping pills when I'm three. When I'm five, she tries pesticide instead. But I'm hard to get rid of. By the time I'm seven, I've already learned how to fight back. If she refuses to give me food, I flip the table so no one can eat either. If she beats me up until I'm on the ground, writhing in pain, I go after her beloved son the same way, leaving him bruised and bawling. That's how we stay locked in battle until I turn 12. Everything changes when my youngest sister is born. I'm clumsily trying to help with her wet diaper when Mom suddenly shoves me against the wall. The look in her eyes holds both disgust and fear. "What were you trying to do to my daughter? I knew it. You take after that monster of a father. Why didn't you just die with him?" I hold my aching head. For the first time, I don't fight back. I believe she's right. My existence is a mistake. I should never have been alive.

The ambulance’s siren blared as it sped toward the hospital. But an obnoxious power-walking mob blocked its path at the entrance of our residential area. As a result, the ambulance could not leave the area. I got out of the car to negotiate with that group of power-walkers. I immediately recognized that the woman who led the mob was none other than my mother-in-law, Miranda White. “Miranda, the illness of someone important to me has flared up. He’s in critical condition! “Please get these people to move and let the ambulance pass! Quick!” I was frantic with worry. But Miranda shot me a sideways glance and jumped to conclusions. “He should’ve died a long time ago! “He’s your father. What gives him the nerve to interfere in Caleb’s marital home?! If he’s sick, he deserves it!” Right after she finished her sentence, she waved her arms and called more people over. The number of people joining the power-walking mob continued to increase. They packed the road so tightly that it was completely blocked. When it became clear the ambulance could not possibly leave the area, Miranda shot me a smug glance. She picked up her phone and said in a coy voice, “Honey, what are you doing at home? Come down and join me for a power walk! Getting some exercise is what matters most for your health.” Inside the ambulance, the phone screen next to the patient lit up for a moment, then went dark again. It was not my father who had collapsed.

I’m the public lover of Tara Brewer, the underworld queen. She often dotes on me and treats me like I'm her most precious treasure, and she goes as far as to claim that she wants to give birth to ten children for me. But when I'm getting beaten up by others while completely drenched in my own blood, Tara doesn't recognize me at all. Instead, she turns to comfort her beau, Brandon Holden. "That filthy bastard has crossed you, honey! You can just beat him to death! I'll be your safety net!" Only then do I realize that Brandon is Tara's lover this whole time. As soon as Tara's words fall, she snatches the boxing gloves from Brandon and begins punching my face, which has a mixture of blood and tears streaking down my cheeks. At the same time, she says icily, "Don't worry. Once you're dead, I'll inform your wife so that she can pick up your corpse."

“You think leaving Victor was the end of your nightmare? Baby, you just stepped into hell.” Isabelle endures her loveless marriage with her billionaire husband Victor but cheating destroys her world. She signs the divorce papers and gets as far away from him as possible until life brings her a new love with Luther, but his many secrets and lies put her life in danger. Can she escape Luther's deadly plan or will Victor's past mistakes cost her everything? And what secrets is she hiding?

As I took my newborn daughter from the nurse, I heard the voice of the baby in the next bed echoing in my head. “Don’t take her, Mommy. I’m your real baby!” The doctor and nurses did not seem to hear a thing. I thought I was hallucinating due to my fatigue, so I continued nursing my baby girl. “How dare you cry, you burdensome wretch? I’ll pinch you if you keep crying!” The baby’s grandmother picked him up and walked outside, but the voice came again, crying, “The mean old lady is taking me away. Mommy, look over here quickly! Look at the birthmark on my left ear!” I froze. My first child, who had died in an accident, had a birthmark on his left ear.