Periodic Table Of Marvel

“The contract was only for a year, Mr Gray. I marry you for one year and you stay the fuck away from my properties,” her tone was high-pitched annoyance and anger. “You got it all wrong, sugar. The contract was to quench my thirst for you but all you did was fuel that desire. Now, I want to own you. Your body, heart and fucking soul,” that honeylike baritone was void of its usual teasing now. He meant every word of it. There was no escape for her. ********** As she lay on the operating table, bleeding to death from an abortion her husband, Regal had arranged, Claire saw her life flash before her eyes. Even in her dying state, he refused her a transfusion because donating blood would ‘hurt’ his unborn child. The words pierced through her heart. The man she'd given her world to chose her sister over her without blinking. But then life smiled at her and she was given a second chance to correct her mistakes. What happens when she gambles this chance by stealing from the famous trillionaire, Asher Gray? What will be her fate when he barges into her life and overturns her world with his wicked seduction? When life throws Regal at her feet, begging for a second chance, when old flames ignite, will she let go of the past and forgive or pursue the prospect of a beautiful new love?

Every orphan dreams of one thing—finding a home. When my parents finally found me, I thought I was the luckiest girl alive. But the moment I stepped through their door, I saw her—a girl my age, dressed like a princess, calling them "mom" and "dad." That girl, Cassia, had been living the life that should have been mine. She was their pride and joy, while I was nothing but an outsider. In front of others, she played the perfect sister. Behind closed doors, she made sure I knew my place. I was her shadow, her punching bag. She was my tormentor—my fake sister. I thought my husband could save me from the misery of that home. He was kind, gentle—or so I believed—until he demanded I give up my unborn child, because the only baby he wanted was hers. Betrayed by the two people I trusted most, my world crumbled as I bled alone on an operating table, my life slipping away. But destiny had other plans. I was given another chance—a chance to rewrite my story. This time, I’m ready. I’ll expose Cassia for who she truly is. I’ll protect everything that was stolen from me. I’ll no longer be the weak girl in her shadow. I’ll become my own strength, and Cassia will never have power over me again.

"Please teach me to become a better writer!" "Oh?" Joaquin got his glass sipped his whiskey as he looked at me in a condescending manner. "I need something in return," he teased as he put his glass down on the table, making me nod excitingly. "Yes, yes! I would do anything you ask for!" Hearing her feedback, he stood up from his chair then walked towards me, chuckling. "Erm..." I stepped away from him, now bumping my back on the wall behind me. Surprised, I gasped as he did a breathtakingly hot "kabe-don". He then spoke near my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "What if I ask... for a collaboration?" --- Haven Thorne, a young woman who is eager to become a great writer, secretly attended a party that was hosted by a popular and rich top author, Joaquin Greyson. Wanting to learn from the great writer, Haven gathered her courage and visited his home for consecutive days even after the constant rejections. Irritated, Joaquin entertained the persistent woman to stop her. Seeing her determination however, piqued his interest and had agreed to her request—even asking for a collaboration! Will the top author really be willing to teach the newbie, or will he lose his patience? Will she able to meet the demands of her experienced mentor, or will she disappoint him? With that in mind, what will their pen and passion teach them? Love, hate… or something more?

Can you ever understand the feeling of having sex with your husband as he keeps calling out another woman's name? Yes, that was my life as the wife of the ruthless, stoic CEO. With my sister, his childhood sweetheart on the run with her boyfriend and his need for a Mrs Levine and an heir, I was picked in the stead of my sister to temporarily fill up the space. “ You're not pregnant yet?!” He banged his hand against the bedside table in anger. “; I guess we just have to keep trying then,” he smirked. I was always afraid of that statement, he indirectly meant sleeping with me every single day but no one dared to say otherwise even if I would fall sick after. What's weird about the heart is how it falls in love with the weirdest persons. I loved Asphalt even though he didn't love me and I believed I could make him love me but that dream came crashing down when Janet returned. As I pushed my babies into the world, I wondered if  Asphalt would love me once he sees our kids but with his plans of taking my kids and reuniting with my sister, I wasn't going to wait until I was kicked out. Taking my babies in my arms, I ran away from the hospital as the rain went pit-pat concealing the tears and I for the first time resented Asphalt.

"Nos pères étaient ennemis, mon tatouage juste au dessus de ma poitrine prouvant fièrement que je suis la fille de Espanto. Je respire un bon coup avant de m'avancer alors qu'il discute avec un autre homme l'air lui aussi important. Je prends le verre et m'abaisse pour le poser sur la table alors que je sens déjà son regard tomber sur mon tatouage. Je me redresse alors que mes pupilles s'enfoncent dans les siennes comme une ancre dans la mer. J'ai sentis mon cœur se retourner dans ma poitrine à son regard. Je m'apprête à repartir mais il m'arrête m'attrapant par le poignet. Il se relève me dépassant de toute sa carrure imposante. J'ai crus qu'il allait prendre une arme mais non, il sort un billet de cinq cents qu'il glisse dans mon soutien-gorge en frôlant sans hésitation mon tatouage de ses doigts. Un éclair de frisson me frappe violemment alors qu'il retire sa main. - Achète-toi quelque chose de jolie princesse."

My sister had struggled with depression since childhood. The doctor warned that she could not tolerate any kind of stimulation. As a result, my entire life fell silent. To avoid upsetting her, I never dared to laugh at home. I never dared to cry. When I got hurt, I did not even have the right to say it hurt. My parents would hug me with apologetic expressions and say, "You're the good one. Your sister's illness requires the whole family to work together. You're healthy. You're strong. Let her have more, okay?" One day, I accidentally knocked over a cup. The crash sounded enormous in the quiet room, and my sister's emotions shattered at once. My father struck me for the first time. He roared, "Can't you be careful? Do you have to push her until she dies before you're satisfied?" He shoved me to the floor. The back of my head slammed against the corner of the table, and blood poured out. But my whole family rushed to my screaming sister. No one even glanced at me. I lay on the cold floor as my vision blurred and my consciousness began to fade. To them, my sister's feelings were the only emergency. My small injury could wait. They did not know that bleeding inside the skull does not wait.

Ten years to the day we were mated, Eric came home wearing the scent of his first love. He wrapped me in his scorching heat, his voice a hoarse whisper against my ear. "I want you, Lyra." He hadn't marked me on a full moon in so long. But right now, the scent of another she-wolf on him was a bitter ache in my chest. The dinner I'd prepared for our full moon ritual was swept off the table by our cub, River. He looked at me with his father’s cold expression. "Mom, your cooking doesn’t even come close to Auntie Aurora’s." Aurora. The first love Eric could never forget. The one he'd brazenly appointed as CFO of our pack's corporation. They were the perfect pair, flaunting their connection for all to see. And I, his true mate, had become the pack's laughingstock. For ten years, I played the part of the perfect mate and mother, only to become a shadow in my own home. That night, I filed the request to the Elders. I would sever the mate bond。 Later, under the brilliant Alaskan aurora, I received Eric's frantic mind link. "Lyra, what about River if you leave?" I let out a small laugh. " River only needs you." "Your first love is back, isn't she? Let her be the mother. I'm free."

Life comes hard and fast for Kendra and her family in a dystopian world that is struggling to recover from a nuclear war and is now under the rule of an alien government. Unaware of the impending alien invasion, a group of scientists -which included Kendra's parents- were ordered to create a zombie virus and set it loose on Russia. The intention was to subdue Russia and then release the cure, but the alien attack took them unawares and the scientists and their cure disappeared, leaving the virus to run rampant. Having been inoculated against the virus, Kendra's aunt is one of these scientists who has kept her identity a secret for fear of being made a slave to the alien government. When a village that is connected to the people who moved underground for survival kidnaps Kendra in hopes that they can harvest any memories of her parents discussing the cure while she was a mere infant with the use of an experimental machine, her aunt must decide about coming forth with her identity. In the meantime, along with dealing with the ever-rising population of zombies, the alien regime -which considers humans a delicacy for their dinner table – sets out to correct and purify the human race from those who were mutated in some way by the nuclear explosions. Rex is one of those humans. He is also Kendra’s lover. “Where Zombies Walk” is Book One of Kendra’s Journey in a world that offers steamy romance, nail biting peril, and thrills, and a paradise-like sanctuary within its core. All she has to do is make her way there.

After failing the mission, the System gave me one final chance, and to succeed, I had to give birth to a child. The System promised that if the baby were born safely, it would reveal the truth to my target and give me one last glimmer of hope. However, six months into my pregnancy, just when things seemed stable, I was dragged onto an operating table in the middle of the night by my husband and family. My husband stopped the anesthesiologist from giving me any pain relief. “Let her feel the pain,” he said coldly. “We need to keep the kidneys as fresh as possible.” My parents instructed the doctor to draw my blood. “She’s the same blood type as our precious girl. Let’s take some for backup.” Even my childhood friend, the boy who had always been by my side, was the one to slice open my abdomen.  They wanted my kidneys to save my sister, who was dying from kidney failure. No one believed I was pregnant. No matter how much I begged, they went ahead with the operation, tearing me open. The baby couldn’t survive, and I died on that operating table. However, as my soul began to fade away, something strange happened. Those who had murdered me—my husband, my parents, my so-called friend—they all lost their minds.

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.