Novel & Cerita Onyx Leopard Bogg Bag

My boss, Grant Whitlock, removed every table and chair from the operations team's area during the company's holiday party. Then, he placed one stainless-steel dog bowl in the middle of the stage. "Ops is basically the company's guard dog," he announced. "And dogs don't eat at the table." The top sales guy laughed and scraped his leftovers straight into the bowl. After that, Grant threw a black trash bag over my shoulders. "From now on, you're our walking trash can. Make yourself useful." The room exploded with laughter. I didn't say a word. I just tightened my grip around the master access card in my hand. What they didn't know was that the building's emergency utility approvals, maintenance access, and property management favors all went through me. They were all living it up because of this "dog" they loved looking down on. I had had enough. So, I dropped my employee badge into the dog bowl and walked out on them. I thought, 'After the holidays, no one will be cleaning the mess on those two floors. Let's see how well they survive without me.'

They're supposed to be forbidden. At least, it’s what I keep telling myself whenever I see them. Yet, when my once close friends of 18 yrs begin to drift away, I’m suddenly left standing, alone, even as they move into their new roles within the pack. My role being null and void, even with me being born the son of a Gamma. Always being told I’m useless as the pack treats me with zero respect. “Worthless Runt” “Freak” “Pathetic” Only a few choice words that my pack likes to use against me whenever they see me. And when becoming bruised and battered seems to be a newfound favorite I take a risk and try to flee only to be stopped by them. My future Alpha, Beta and Delta. “Where are you going?” “Out” “Uh huh sure, and you're taking that with you?” Snatching my bag, they move to look at me with knowing stares, a stare filled with longing, pain and purpose. “Give that back.” “I think not little mate, your ours, now and forever and were not letting go” Crap. I think things just got a whole lot more complicated than it needed to be.

“Landon is here?” Mabel asked, turning to look behind her, a frown forming on her face. “Are you stalking me? Huh?” She asked drunkenly and made to climb down from the stool, but she missed her footing and fell toward Landon who instinctively caught her in his arms. Upon realizing what he had done, Landon suddenly pushed her away from his body like he had touched a bag of filth, making her fall to the ground on her butt. “Ouch!” She winced as her butt came in contact with the hard floor. Landon felt a pang of pity for her but quickly masked it. Such a shameless woman isn't worth his sympathy. She was married, yet she was drunk at a bar, flirting with a random guy. ******* What happens if your wedding was never about love but about settling an old score? Mabel never wanted an arranged marriage, but honoring her father’s dying wish left her no choice. On her wedding day, her groom, Landon Ferguson, didn’t bother to show up only sending someone in his place. Humiliated and furious, she swore never to forgive him. As the truth behind their arranged marriage comes to light, Mabel realizes too late some debts demand more than just a name on a marriage certificate. Some demand a sacrifice.

“Oops, my fingers slipped! These pictures were for someone else but I guess the cats are out of the bag now!” A cold chill ran down my spine as I scrolled through raunchy pictures of my Alpha husband and my sister. Five years of unrivaled love and dedication just for him to sleep with her sister on a stupid business trip. Well two could play that game, she unblocks a number and dials it with her heart in her throat. “One night–that’s all you get, after that we go back to being strangers,” She says, and a soft,dominant voice comes out from the other end. “My chauffeur will be there to pick you by right, wear the gown,” “That gown? Not in your wildest drea–” She's caught off by a new influx of pictures and she chokes her words, “Fine, but I'll need to drink–” “No,” he replied calmly, “I want you to remember everything I'll do to you tonight,” Two weeks later the pack doctor hands her a white envelope, “Congratulations, Luna Alice, you're pregnant!” Alice finds herself thrust into a web of lies of manipulation, caught between two brothers. Will she choose a familiar affection or traverse the plains of foreign passions?

There was one rule in HQ that everyone worshipped with their life: ‘Never leave these two alone in a fucking room.’ But these days, 'Never leave these two alone in a room. They'll be fucking.' ~~~~~~~~~ Elijah Lancaster has never been enough-- not for his family and certainly not for himself. Born as a regular Alpha in a dominant Alpha family, Elijah has become a ridicule and must constantly prove his worth. At 24, he's a shadow of the boy he once used to be-- a walking bag of insecurities, a pawn and a man he can hardly recognize. His heartache runs deeper, especially around William Sterling, a boy he once used to know and love, but everything changed when blows exchanged and harsh words were spoken. Now William is back in his life-- stronger, and more confident than Elijah can ever be, and worse, he's in Elijah's face as much as he hates to. As team leader of HQ, William is everything Elijah can never be, and the tension between them is as unbearable as their history. Caught between their shared pain and chemistry, Elijah and William cannot ignore their undeniable chemistry and must put their ego aside to work together. As Enemies. Even if they're tearing each other's clothes in the dark, stealing kisses in the dark and a quick fuck. ____ THIS IS AN OMEGAVERSE. IF YOU'RE NOT FAMILIAR WITH IT, I DUNNO

At dinner, Tiffany White grabs my fiance's phone and spends 100 thousand dollars on a designer bag. She even sticks her tongue at me. "Come on, Meredith. You're loaded. You won't mind such a small amount, right? Shawn and I share everything. His money is my money," she says. Everyone at the table waits for me to lose my temper or smile and let it slide like a saint. Instead, I calmly take out a voice recorder and my laptop from my bag and adjust my gold-rimmed glasses. "100 thousand meets the threshold for criminal filing. Since you said you two share everything, I have to ask—is this embezzlement or an illegal transfer tied to an improper personal relationship? "Oh, and what you just said about 'his money is my money'? I recorded that. According to the supplemental clauses in our prenup and the company bylaws, I'm officially initiating an asset-freezing order against Shawn Harrison." I turn to Tiffany. "Enjoy your free meals in prison, Ms. White." Shawn is livid. "It was just a joke, Meredith. Is it really necessary to ruin me over this?" I hit the "enter" key. "Sorry. In my book, there are no jokes—only bad debt."

My father's company lost a senior executive out of nowhere, so he called me back from overseas to steady things. He even set me up with the best office in the building and an antique ornament as a welcome gift. I had barely started working when a man barged in. He slammed his bag onto my desk, knocking the ornament clean over. Before I could react, he grabbed me by the collar, yanked me out of the chair, and dropped himself into the leather seat like he owned the place. "I'm taking this office," he said, lounging back. "Show yourself out and shut the door." My temper spiked. "This is my office. You need to leave." He let out a cold, dismissive laugh. "Your office? Please! Forget this office. The whole damn Neel Corporation is gonna belong to my girlfriend, Violet Neel. If you know what's good for you, get lost!" I frowned. Wasn't I the one set to take over? Who the hell was Violet supposed to be? I pulled out my phone and called my father. "Have you lost your mind, old man? You've got some secret daughter taking over the company now?"

The appointment of Susan Moore as the Broadcasting Channel's executive director has forced out the station's more valued news anchor, sparking heated discussions throughout Hayworth. Susan herself is standing before me right now. She wants to sell her jewelry. As the manager of a luxury boutique store, I'm here to inspect the goods. "These are pieces my partner commissioned for me. I have so many that I'm tired of them." One of them is a diamond-encrusted necklace, featuring a pigeon-blood ruby in the center, worth a few million. There are also several similar gifts on the table, with the crocodile skin bag the least eye-catching one. I smiled. "Your husband must really love you." I set about verifying the purchaser's ID and signature as part of a routine procedure. However, I freeze in place at the sight of the name. "I'm not his wife," she replied, bringing the coffee cup to her lips. "We're just each other's first loves. He said he missed out on 15 years of my life, so he gave me 15 gifts. Isn't that romantic?" It is romantic, indeed. However, it's my father's signature. For 30-plus years, I assumed that my father was a dull man who had never once surprised my mother.

After my daughter was seriously injured in a car accident and suffered heavy bleeding, she was rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment. When it was time to sign the surgical consent form, the nurse suddenly snapped the medical file shut and pressed it down firmly. "Hospital regulations state that only immediate family members can sign the surgical consent form. What proof do you have that you are the child's father?" I was stunned. "She is my biological daughter. Do I still need to prove it to you?" The nurse retorted, "Birth certificates can be forged. How do we know the child wasn't abducted by you? If you cannot prove it, we cannot proceed with the surgery." Seeing the nurse's self-righteous expression, I trembled with anger. "I am signing the surgical consent form for my own biological daughter. Do I need to provide DNA evidence as well?" She curled her lip. "These are hospital regulations. We are being responsible for the patient. If you cannot prove the child is yours, we will report you to the police for child trafficking." After saying that, she actually called security to report it and loudly accused me of being a human trafficker. Report me to the police? I took out my police uniform from my bag and put it on. I'd show her what a split-second response was.