Novel & Cerita Pen Pineapple Apple Pen Song Lyrics

From the time I could count coins, my parents hammered one lesson home—if a boy did not start saving young, he would never have enough to win himself a wife. They opened a bank account in my name, vowing that money would only ever flow in, never out. And so, every birthday bill and crumpled allowance found a home in that card. I kept funneling every hard-earned paycheck into that same old account even after I moved to the city to chase my own future. At that point, that habit was done more out of reflex than reason. However, I was blindsided by acute kidney failure after years of working myself to the bone. Suddenly, that money was not just savings—it was my lifeline. My dad's voice trembled on the phone. He claimed he had forgotten the password and urged me to just take out an online loan for now. I hauled myself to the bank, my feet still shaky from my dialysis treatment. I clutched my ID, determined to file a loss report and reset the password myself. The teller's words froze me in place. "Sir, this account was emptied six months ago." Panic surged through me. I demanded a full printout of every transaction. The statement of the most recent transfer glared up at me from the paper, stating, "Wedding fund for our precious daughter, Natalia Callahan, plus the down payment for her luxury car."

“Stay low, Omega. Unless you want to be flattened.” On the ice, I am not a girl. I am a liability. At least, that’s what Jaxon Thorne tells me every time his skates spray ice over my gear. As the only female on the university’s elite hockey team, I expected the chirping. I didn’t expect the suffocating, predatory shadow of our coach. Jaxon is a True Alpha in every sense—brutal, commanding, and obsessed with purity on his team. He hates that I’m here. He hates that my scent messes with his focus. And he spends every practice making my life a living hell. But his hatred feels… heavy. It’s in the way he traps me against the boards during drills, his massive frame pinning me until I can feel the thrum of his heart through our pads. He says he’s "fixing my stance," but his hands linger too long on my hips, and his growl sounds less like a coach and more like a beast claiming its prey. Then comes the ultimate penalty: a housing error makes us roommates. Now, there’s no rink to separate us. Just thin walls and the agonizing pull of our biology. He glares at me across the kitchen table with eyes that want to ruin me, yet he’s the one sliding the bolt shut on the front door. He says Omegas don’t belong in his sport. But the way he looks at me when I’m cornered says he thinks I belong exactly where he can keep me: on my knees, under his command, and utterly his. ************************** Trigger Warnings: 18+ Content/Hardcore: Graphic sexual content, CNC (Consensual Non-Consent) elements, dub-con (due to biological "Heat/Scent" influences), aggressive Alpha behavior, and language.

In the third year of her marriage, Natalie Spencer uncovers a devastating truth. Her blindness wasn't caused by a car accident. No, it was because her beloved husband, Jason Pereira, plotted to have her corneas removed and transplanted them into his first love. The only reason he married her in the first place was to save that other woman. The marriage Natalie once took pride in turns out to be nothing but a calculated lie. Crushed, she quietly begins planning her escape. Half a month later, she vanishes without warning. She leaves behind nothing but a signed divorce agreement and a jar of formaldehyde containing an undeveloped embryo. Those are her final gifts to Jason. He loses his mind searching for her, scouring the world in desperation. But when he finally finds her, she's no longer alone. There's another man by her side. Jason stands in front of her, eyes red with guilt and regret. "Natalie, I was wrong. Please don't leave me. Not like this." But the Natalie standing before him now is radiant and powerful—she's an internationally acclaimed artist and a woman reborn. She looks at the man she once loved and feels nothing. "Jason, I'm not that blind bat who used to live and breathe for you anymore." She turns and wraps her arms around the regal man beside her with a smile. "Someone's bothering your wife. Aren't you going to deal with him?" The man smiles back, leans in, and kisses her in front of everyone. "Of course. Whatever my wife says, goes."

Nero Vecchio was the enemy. That was what Dante had known from the moment he saw his father’s corpse in the gutter. Formerly the son of a powerful mafia Don, Dante Solace treads the edges of the life he once knew, becoming an assassin for hire. Only, a target brings him closer to the past he has nightmares about every night. And this time he cannot escape Nero. This time, Dante promises himself that he would kill the mafia Don who had taken over his mind. When secrets are revealed and the past events seem to repeat themselves, Dante is forced to work with the man he tries to hate to carve a path beyond death and dishonor. Their personalities clash against each other but the pull is magnetic. Dante is fascinated by the elusive Mafia Don but he shouldn’t be. Nero is the enemy. ...Or is he?

Miles Wright's first love, Faith Green, announces that she's leaving the country on the day he's supposed to marry me. She claims he'll never see her again. He ignores her and continues with our wedding. Even later, when the plane crashes and leaves Faith's body mangled and broken, he merely says coldly, "It was written in her fate." Miles only reveals his true colors after he uses me to become Wright Group's CEO. He moves into a monastery under the guise of wanting to repent for his sins. He has a rosary with him at all times and turns into a man renowned in the city for his piousness and kindness. Meanwhile, he forces me to kneel before Faith's gravestone every night. He also makes me pray and chant for her in atonement. I climb up a long staircase every day so I can pray for her well-being. Finally, I'm tormented to the point of miscarriage, and I die on a snowy winter night. Fortunately, the heavens were kind enough to bring me back to my wedding day. This time, I'm not making the same mistake. If Miles, an illegitimate son, thinks he can use me as a stepping stone, he's wrong! He's not worthy of that!

As soon as I get off the surgical table after my miscarriage, my husband, Presley Quinn, sends me a text message. "You were ten cents short when you paid your share of the power bill this month. Transfer the money to me immediately." I can only sit on the cold bench in the hospital on my own. The anesthesia has yet to wear out, but my belly is already hurting so much that I can practically feel it constricting on itself. The next thing I know, a new post appears on my social media homepage. It's a post made by Vivienne Ashford, the intern Presley is in charge of tutoring. In the photo, Vivienne can be seen holding a bouquet of flowers folded from money bills. A bright and radiant smile blooms on her face. The four-leaf clover necklace adorning her neck is the same necklace I've seen in Presley's purchase history two days ago. The caption of the photo writes, "I don't want a lot of money. I want a ton of love instead." Only then do I remember that today is Valentine's Day as well as my fifth-year anniversary with Presley. Over the past five years, Presley and I have been splitting every single bill, down to two decimal places. If I take a shower for more than 20 minutes, Presley demands that I pay extra for the water heater's power bill. When I cook myself some supper in the middle of the night, Presley wants me to split the gas bill generated by the stove. Even when my mom is hospitalized due to kidney failure and is waiting for her surgical bills to be settled, Presley refuses to lend me a single cent. Instead, he sends me a few links leading to web loans. As I stare at the social media feed, I chuckle all of a sudden. It turns out that Presley does know how to spend money. It's just that he doesn't have the heart to spend it on me. I smile once again as I leave a like on the post. Then, I transfer the ten cents to Presley. From now on, I don't owe him any single penny.

On the day I'm supposed to pick up my bride for the wedding, Tracie Mayer, my supposed wife-to-be as well as the heiress of the Mayer family, is replaced by Jayne Cooper, a widowed fishmonger. Everyone in the groom's party laughs and makes fun of me. "Since when are you this thirsty? You don't mind women who have already given birth before, huh?" "I can't believe the heir of the Reeve family is about to marry a widowed fishmonger! Everyone's going to be tickled pink once word gets out!" My family driver's son, Everett Huffman, provokes me on the spot. "This is for treating me like a lowly servant and ordering me to drive you around! That's why Adeline and Tracie decided to avenge me on your big day!" Realization dawns on me immediately. My older sister, Adeline Reeve, and Tracie are standing up for Everett by putting me down. As I turn to stare at Adeline with red-rimmed eyes, she replies nonchalantly, "It's just a wedding ceremony. Endure it like a tough guy you are. "You and Tracie will still get married. We won't let you marry a widowed fishmonger for real."

Larissa Walker is one to never want more in the small town. She could have gone away but instead became a doctor in her hometown. When an old teacher asks her for a favor to help with her classes at the high school Larissa agrees. She finds out more than she bargained for when an accident happened an people went missing. The teachers at the school have a secret. Larissa is drawn in to protect herself and a friend as well.

I'm the top salesperson at a tutoring center. Payday comes, and my commission is 50 cents. I'm so furious that I march straight to my boss to demand answers, but his secretary, Sasha Watson, steps in front of me. She digs through her pocket, pulls out 50 cents, and flicks it straight at my face in front of everyone. "Here's your 50 cents!" My ears ring. Heat crawls up my neck and into my skull. "Ms. Watson, this has to be a mistake. I closed 1.5 million dollars on my own last month. My team pulls in over three million dollars. My commission should be at least 200 grand." Sasha rolls her eyes. She reaches into her wallet, pulls out a dollar bill, and slaps it against my cheek. "Stop barking! Fine, I'll throw you a dollar. Keep the change!" I'm about to lose it. "My mom is still waiting on that 200 grand for her surgery. Without it, she could die." The coworkers around us start whispering. "50 cents? For the top salesperson? That's insane!" "Lower your voice. She's the boss's niece! What she says goes. Unless you want to get fired, pretend you didn't hear anything." I turn away, pull out my phone, and dial our biggest competitor. "I'm in. Five million dollars a year."

I was checking out our own hotel. Got hungry, so I snagged a tiny bread roll before my order came out. Then the lobby manager strutted over and slapped me with a fine. "Hi, miss. No outside food. You stayed eight minutes and thirty seconds, spent $150, and your fine's $128,000." I stared at the ticket like, What the hell? Snapped a pic and sent it to the board, tagging my lovely brother: [Getting fined at our own hotel—so THIS is how you're boosting revenue?]