Pat A Cake Lyrics

On our wedding anniversary, I canceled all my meetings and made a reservation at a restaurant. That evening, my wife, the renowned investigative journalist Amaya Shaw, called me. “Efim, I’m sorry! I just received a tip from a source. It’s urgent. “It involves inside information about a well-known company. I have to go verify it immediately!” But the next day, I saw that Javor Furey, the junior she had brought along, had posted a collage on his social media. The central photo showed Amaya wearing a childish birthday hat. Her head was pressed against Javor’s, as they made a wish together in front of a cake covered in candles. This was the caption. [Thanks, my dear Ms. Shaw! Even in the midst of her busy schedule chasing big stories, she remembered to give me this surprise birthday!] [Chasing big stories.] I stared at those three words. Then, I glanced at the limited-edition bag on our dining table. It was the one she had been raving about for half a year. It was the anniversary gift I had prepared for her. I felt absurd. I commented just two words under that post. [How touching.] Her call came in almost the second I hit send. She sounded furious. “Efim, do you have to be so sarcastic? “It’s just an anniversary. How old are you? Why are you still celebrating such childish anniversaries?” From our first year of marriage to the present, her “tip-offs from informants” and “special circumstances” always took precedence over our promises. This time, she could not even be bothered to come up with a plausible excuse. I did not say anything. I hung up and blocked her number. This marriage was over.

I stood in the shadows, the scent of pine and frost heavy in the air, watching my mate, Ethan, smile—truly smile—for the first time in years. But not at me. At her. My cousin, Isla. His first love. She sat beside him, warm and glowing, with our pups, Lucas and Mia, curled up against her like she was their real mother. They were laughing, sharing bites of ice-cream cake, the kind Lucas once said made his stomach hurt. I was never meant to be here. I wasn't his choice. He didn't fall in love with me—he was assigned to me. To him, our bond was never about love. It was a political arrangement—an alliance between two packs: his power, my father’s ambition. A tie forged not by hearts, but by bloodlines and borders. He never touched me unless required. He never looked at me like I was his Luna. In that moment, as their laughter echoed under the full moon, I felt the mate bond falter—thin, fading, like breath in winter. And I knew. I had played my part long enough. So I turned away. It was time to severe the bond that was never truly mine. But when he sensed I was really leaving, when the tether between us began to snap, he broke. Dropped to his knees, clutching the pups like lifelines, his voice raw. "Please," he whispered, "don't leave me." Even the pups cried, reaching for me with shaking hands. "Mom, we’re sorry… We didn't mean it. Please don't go."

On the day my twin sister, Alexia Cavanaugh, and I turn 22, I collapse and find out that I have late-stage cancer. Ignoring the doctor's advice to be admitted, I walk out of the hospital. All I want is to spend one final birthday with my family without a single worry. But when I arrive at the party, a server stops me at the door and tells me the venue has been reserved exclusively for Alexia. Outsiders aren't allowed in. Through the glass, I watch as my brother holds a cake and my father places a birthday hat on Alexia's head. Even my boyfriend is there, smiling as Alexia makes a wish. I stand there for half an hour, gripping my phone, before my boyfriend finally answers my call. "I was just at the hospital. I—" He cuts me off. "Ophelia, you've always been healthy. It's Lexi's birthday today. We should talk later." Isn't today my birthday too? My mother died giving birth to me. The doctor later explained that I deprived Alexia of nutrients before birth, which left her frail from the start. And just like that, everyone decided I should always step aside for my twin, who was born five minutes before me. I ball up the report with my cancer diagnosis and toss it in the trash. I'm done letting their favoritism hurt me. I've never received their love anyway, so I choose to leave for good.

“God, woman.” He growled as she shuddered. Suppressing his outlandish sadistic tendency, he stopped, still breathing heavily. His lungs burned, and his hard c*ck throbbed in his pants. *** Heartbroken, Charleigh Wrylee, a charming and driven associate architect, dedicates her life to her career. She grabs the opportunity when a new project promises her a promotion. Bryce Chase is a tough daddy and a great baker with only two goals in life—raising his child and managing his cake shop. But things change when he runs into a new girl. Even though their interests don’t align, it turns the heat between them, pulling them together like magnets. Will they be able to set their issues aside and follow their hearts instead? Or will they rather stick to what they’re fighting for; his shop and her promotion? *** Sometimes hiding the truth comes with a great price. That’s what the quiet and preserved Arizona Sky realizes after meeting Tripp Wrylee— a hardworking overconfident CEO of a top architectural firm. She finds herself doing things she never thought she’d do— marrying a man she barely knows and leaving her the next day.  Three years later, he comes back, asking for a second chance, filling the husband’s role he left empty, bringing out the other side of him that Ari never knew he had.  Things between them become surreal until his job is at risk, their relationship is in hot water, and the people she loves are against their relationship, but something between them is maybe worth saving.

"When I set my eyes on your beauty, I become like a vampire that is staring at blood." ~~ How about loving someone with great expectations that you will end up together with him but later on find out that fate has decided otherwise for you two? That he has to be a villain and you a hero? Lavina is very depressed when this happens to her but since a heartbreak doesn't mean the end of one's life, she decides to go on with her life. A life which is a cake with problems as a cream. A life in which her father makes a decision that makes his family a public enemy, every pack member wanting them dead and death remaining the only way out one could think of. At that critical moment, she meets Byron, a lycan who shields her out of kindness risking his only asset in life, his life. "You're my mate!" Byron whispers into her ears. Geez... They are mates trapped together in a swirl of hatred and mystries from centuries circling around them. Their packs have been rivals for a millenium. Only hatred towards each other was what their mothers breastfed them. 'If you find one of them kill him' was the motto that their fathers told them to learn by heart. Is he going to be her forever shield? Or he is going to turn his back against her leaving her inbetween the fangs of enraged wolves? What if Lavina finds out that Byron is the one who killed her twinsister? Will his protection still mean anything to her?

I don't believe in fairytale. I don't believe in happy endings too. To me, anything that involves freedom is a myth. Love is a strange word, something I sought for ages but only got slapped back in the end by the strong fume of hatred that surrounded me. The only thing that can end this pain is death, mine or my abuser's. And either way, I was prepared. ~Ellen Oliver ~ *** His hand roamed my body possessively, his gaze penetrating me with lust and hunger, his finger finding its way to my core. His voice, gruffly and nasal, filled my ear with a disturbing hunger. "You are mine. Mine alone. Mine to touch, mine to keep, mine to fuck. All of you, Omega. I own all of your goddamn body. You are my pleasure toy..." *** Rejected by her mate and forsaken by her pack, Ellen Oliver endured massive humiliations and tortures because she was believed to be a cursed wolf, and like an icing on the cake of her misery, she happened to be an Omega too. The hell, she was the weakest Omega. After losing her mother due to a forced labour to produce her, Ellen was hated by even her Beta father whom one would have expected to naturally love her. She felt life couldn't get any worse for her, as her survival depended on how well she pleases and entertained her tormentors. But there was a revival.. a revival she never expected nor believed and it came with a change that had her tormentors on their knees, at her feet. ..

Underestimated… That is what I have been almost all my life just because I am a female, a woman, a lady... but I understand… this world is filled with egotistic and chauvinistic men that need to be taught a lesson and I am more than happy to do so… My life has never been all fun and roses… I still had my mum and brothers but it will never be the same without my father. I may be of age. Far past the finding your mate age but that doesn’t mean I am in a hurry to get a mate not that I don’t want one. I do but I’m just not in a hurry. But the goddess and fate as always did the exact opposite of what my heart desired… they brought my mate to my doorstep and I took it with a determined heart but I was in for a surprise. My mate wanted another yet he didn’t want to let me go. He wanted to eat his cake and have it. He welcomed me into his home and pack with a happy face yet I was being disrespected, and ridiculed behind my back. I may act ignorant but I’m no fool. I like to plan my actions before I take it so that I would be well prepared for the consequences that may follow. And as usual my new pack comes first before my needs but that doesn’t stop me from showing my mate that he messed with the wrong bitch. Because I was named CHAOS for a reason. I am going to tear into his conscience and torment the living daylights out of him for I may be a bitch. But I am nobody’s bitch…

The day my birth parents found me, the reunion banquet they threw turned into their funeral. My parents and their adopted daughter, Leila, died of food poisoning that night. The only one who survived was my older brother, Alpha Kian. He didn’t like sweets, so he never touched the cake. The cake that I handed to them myself. “So you want to take Leila’s place. “You’re just jealous because she got all our love! “She was the only one who ever accepted you, and you still killed her!” Those were Kian’s exact words as he shouted at me right outside the hospital room. From that day on, I became a sinner. To make up for it, I barely slept four hours a night and worked five jobs just to buy back the villa the rival pack seized during the chaos. However, the day I finally saved up enough, I saw my dead parents throwing a birthday party for Leila in that very villa. Kian stood among them, looking at her with a warmth I didn’t recognize. My mother said, “Isn’t today also Lily’s birthday? It’s been eight years. Maybe it’s time to forgive her.” However, Kian didn’t hesitate to refuse. “No. Even though Leila sniffed out the wolfsbane and saved you, we agreed that Lily gets ten years. “We can’t risk her ever trying to poison Leila again. Not even a day less.” I clutched the diagnosis paper from the clinic tightly and laughed through my tears. I knew I wouldn’t get to ten years. I was already dying.

I am the long-lost true heir of the Kensington family. In just the second month after reconciling with the Kensington family, I solved a technical problem that the Kensington Corp's Military Research Institute had failed to crack for five whole years. Yet, my adoptive brother, Sean Kensington, the fake heir, exchanged my patent bonus worth millions for a 20-percent-off coupon for a cup of latte. I went to my older sister, Sonya, the CEO, but she simply waved her hand dismissively, completely unconcerned. "Enough, Wesley. Sean just did it for your own good. If you're holding onto that much money, what if some organization set their eyes on you? This way, your safety is protected. "Besides, you've only come to the city not long ago. I doubt you've ever had something like a latte before. Take it as a chance to experience it. I'll even give you another ten dollars. You can buy yourself another cup." I looked at the condescension in her eyes, planning to send the recording to our parents. Yet, I saw on their social media that they had just bought a seaside mansion and a luxury car as a celebration gift for Sean's achievements. Then, I glanced at the coupon they had just sent me. [You did help Sean after all. Your father and I bought you a cake as a reward. Go pick it up yourself.] I checked the price. After discount, it was a mere 13 bucks. They had to be kidding me. I directly dialed the number of Kensington Corp's rival company, Jet Group. "I think the exclusive patent for this new missile should be yours. From now on, all my research results will only be shared with Jet Group."

I was a child who was born in a vocational school's toilet. To my mom, I was a stain in her life that she was given birth to after having her cherry popped by a delinquent when she was still young. I knew that Mom had been trying to kill me. Unfortunately, she hadn't succeeded so far. The first time she tried to get rid of me was when she decided to give birth to me in the toilet. It was a cold, winter month, yet she didn't give me anything warm to wear. The second time she attempted murder was when she got into grad school, which was based in the north. No one was around to take care of me, so she turned on the gas while holding me in her arms and clutching her train ticket. The third and last time happened when Mom was about to marry the man she loved. On the night before her wedding, she had tears streaming down her cheeks as she told me, "You're nothing but a burden. You ruined my life! "Do you know that I can only forget about all the pain and suffering you caused me after you die? Only then can I start a brand new chapter in my life!" I wiped Mom's tears off her face with my tiny hand. So, her wish was for me to die. On my birthday, my fever hit 104 degrees Fahrenheit. That was when I finally received the first slice of birthday cake in my entire life. I didn't have the heart to eat it, so I made my wish solemnly. "I hope that I will die soon." I heard that birthday wishes often came true. That way, Mom would be very happy.