Periodic Table Of Marvel

“Shit, she is escaping," said the one with the blue eyes, who cursed out, and grabbed the rope. Taking the vase from the table beside the window, I throw it over his head. “Get your fucking hands off,” I snapped, and I jumped out the window with the rope as my guide, and he followed. “Great, today is not just my day," I murmured as I landed on the- In a world of crimes, spies, a forbidden romance. I’m Sophie Rust, an 18 years old. College student. If I may brag a little, I would define myself as someone who is clever, stubborn, fun-loving, and adventurous. I’ve always known my parents were more than what they seemed, but never in my wildest dream did I imagine they were secret spy agents working for an underground Secret Service. Their secret world was full of danger and emotional roller coasters—a life I secretly craved. However, everything changed when I met Alexander Kova, a ruthless Russian gangster leader with a vendetta against my family. And love took an unexpected turn. Tragedy struck, at the High-Ranking official estate, leaving me as the sole survivor among the children of other spies Terrified and homeless, the Kovas, our enemies, turned into our protectors, offering me a blanket of safety. But that safety turned to nothing when a clash between the Kovas and a New York gangster family erupted, turning me into something formidable, a being with powers unimaginable. I never knew I could be the person that I have become. In this realm of power, secrets, and vengeance, our unlikely romance faces its ultimate test. As Alexander unleashes mayhem to claim what he believes is rightfully his, will their love survive the relentless storm, or will it crumble in the battle for power?

"Did you hear me, Luca DeLuca? I want a divorce. You betrayed me far too much. Last night was the final straw for me." I snarled, clenching my fists at my sides. I was proud of myself for remaining strong in front of my so-called mate. He always made me feel like a weakling. Still, he did not answer. Did he even hear me? "Luca?" I tapped the table until he finally looked up at me. "For God's sake, Serafina. Are you blind as well as stupid? Can't you see that I am busy?" Luca growled at me, causing me to be silent. He did despise me. The truth finally settled in my gut like a stone in that very second. I was nothing to him. He did not even care about me. Not one bit. For three long years, Serafina stood by her fated mates side, hoping that one day he would love her. But, each day caused more pain and suffering for Serafina, especially when she found her mate entangled with his ex lover. The one who truly had his heart. With his betrayal and rejection towards her, as well as the shame and disappointment her mother threw at her, Serafina finally snaps and demands a divorce, leaving the DeLuca estate and returning to her childhood sanctuary. Unfortunately for Serafina, her mother is not going to give up the idea of gaining power and greed, she forces her daughter to marry an old widowed Alpha despite Serafina’s refusal. Will Luca see sense before he loses his fated mate for ever or is it to little to late for his cursed Luna?

My sister has awakened her mermaid bloodline, but it is incomplete. Her skin is her curse. A single touch, too hard, and it cracks. For her, everything hard in our house has been thrown away. I love to dance, but the hard tips of ballet shoes are forbidden. I love music, but the strings of a guitar or the keys of a piano are too dangerous. Every dream I've ever had has been strangled in its cradle because of my sister's condition. My brother, Liam, who raised us both, always looks at me with tired, pleading eyes. "Elara is fragile, Isla. You have to be understanding." But I was only eighteen the first time I truly understood. I came home from my high school graduation ceremony, the scent of sunshine and excitement still on my clothes. The moment I stepped inside, Elara's hand connected with my cheek. Hard. For no reason at all. Everyone rushed to her. Liam pointed a furious finger at me. "Look what you've done! You've hurt her hand! How could you be so careless?" He shoved me aside and rushed out with Elara to find a doctor. I fell back against the glass coffee table, the impact jarring. And then, a strange, cold pain bloomed across my back. I felt my skin... tear. It was then I remembered the doctor's words from my last check-up: "You carry the Siren's Gene, Isla. It could manifest at any time." As my vision blurred, my own blood pooling on the pristine white floor, I finally understood. The curse wasn't just my sister's. It was mine, too.

When my husband, Austin Hart, and I participated in the earthquake disaster relief, he discovered the corpse of his first love, Stacy Deleon, in the collapse zone. That night, Austin left a suicide note behind before jumping off the building with our son, Clifford Hart, in order to reunite with Stacy in the afterlife. Only then did I realize that both Austin and Clifford never cared about me, to begin with. When I was reborn, I returned to the moment when Austin first asked for a divorce. This time, I agreed to the divorce immediately. I even gave the custody of the three-year-old Clifford to Austin right away. Five years later, we meet again at an auction. Austin laces fingers with Stacy while taking Clifford's hand with the other. He mocks me, "It's only been five years, Kendra. You're really that shameless now, huh? You can't wait to latch onto me again now that you've found out I'm here!" Clifford mocks me as well. "Mom… Wait, you should be Ms. Powell to me now. You should stop pestering my dad already. My parents and I are living a very happy life right now." I just ignore them. Instead, I grab my daughter, Faye Gilmore, who has been sneaking food off the table, and steer her back to our seats. But Austin flies into a fit of rage instantly. A vein pops out of his hand, which is still laced with Stacy's fingers. "You really are shameless, Kendra Powell! We've only been separated for five years, yet you already have a daughter that old? I can't believe you're willing to resort to such despicable methods just to make me jealous! Which bastard did you have that bastard child with, huh?"

The newly hired genius programmer was a proud woman who always thought she could turn the entire industry on its head. When an investor tried to pressure her into drinking, she flipped the table and slapped him across the face. "My worth is in my programming skills, not my ability to network. Asking me to drink with you is an insult." Enraged, Clint Warner immediately withdrew the eighty-million investment agreement. He even swore he would never work with us again. As the Head of Product, I scrambled to apologize. The situation was only salvaged after I drank so much that I ended up hospitalized. … Later, I complained to the boss and demanded that he discipline the new hire. To my shock, he dismissed the matter. "If the employee causes any problem, it's because the supervisor failed in their duty. The promised million-dollar dividend bonus is cancelled. Take this as your warning." Fed up, I wrote down Mary Hansen's name on the Counseling-Out List. She couldn't care less. "I have abilities you’ll never match, unlike a scheming bootlicker like you. If anyone tries to go after me, the project will be halted. Don't come crying to me when everything collapses." I did not argue with her then. However, when the Counseling-Out List was announced, I found my own name on it. The boss claimed it was a mistake to force me to leave. Then he promoted Mary to my position and even granted her the authority of a vice president. "You were only great because of the company's support. Mary's not the same. She's young and truly talented. She’ll lead us to greater heights." With a cold smirk on my face, I made my way to our competitor, taking the crucial piece of our company's technology with me.

I stretched lazily on the bed, much like a contented kitten, before opening my eyes. Hovering above me was a face that could have been sculpted by the gods—a handsome, well-defined face with sun-kissed golden eyes. My first groggy thought was that Cara had finally brought home a decent, well-groomed man for a change. But…. Why is he in my room? I abruptly shoved him away, ending the spell. "Get off your asshole!" With a scowl on my face, I got up quickly. “Was personal space not mentioned by Clara, huh?” I spoke in an irritated tone. “Clara?” He turned and casually picked up some papers from a nearby table, settling down with an annoying smile. “And who might that be, if I may ask?” He doesn’t even remember her? Asshole “Well, if you must know, Clara—” I started, but my words faltered as something shiny caught my eye. What is..? Then my memories began to flood back. —it’s a damn golden sofa. Shit. Brain Freeze. ~~~ Growing up as the oldest kid on a Chicago farm was no picnic for Mary Johnson. Her folks, good ol' Mr. and Mrs. Becky Johnson, were salt-of-the-earth types, who worked hard on their small farm not far from the gritty backstreets of Chicago. They taught Mary and her siblings the value of hard work, self-value. But as much as Mary loved her family, she dreamed big, but those dreams took a backseat when she needed to step up and help support her family. Then, out of the blue, fate threw her a curveball. A chance in the US came knocking, and Mary didn't hesitate. And then she crossed paths with the Blacks – New York’s high society, dripping with wealth and power, who offered her a deal she couldn’t refuse.

Every Christmas Eve, the heir of the Marco mafia family—Adrian Marco, must follow the family tradition: Draw a name to decide whether he’s allowed to marry me. Because I, Irene Cast, am not mafia-born. Unless he draws the slip with my name on it, he can’t take me as his wife. For four years, Adrian has drawn four times. And not once did he draw my name. I always thought he fought with his family because of me— that he was willing to risk losing his position as the Don, just to choose me. Every time he failed, he held me so tightly and whispered, “It’s okay. There’s always next year.” And I loved him so much it hurt. Hurt enough that I was willing to wait, year after year. This year, I told myself: If he still doesn’t draw my name… I’ll secretly switch the result. I sneaked to the door of Adrian’s study, and heard his younger brother ask: “Don… every year you do draw Irene's name. Why do you pretend you didn’t? Is it because you still can’t let Sera go?” But he simply said, in a flat voice, “Sera needs me for something urgent. Do what you always do: swap Irene’s name for a blank one.” He walked out without looking back. Instead of swapping, he tossed the blank slip into the trash, left the one with my name on the table, and hurried after Adrian. I went inside, picked up the blank slip from the trash, and replaced the one with my name. Watching my own name fall into the garbage. Adrian…I don’t want to wait and marry you anymore. I’ll grant you your choice.

"Good girl, now, call me daddy!" He whispers; his voice sexy as . "Daddy!" I voiced out, but it came out as a whispering threat. "Louder!" He commands. "Daddy!" I yelled softly, feeling the deliciousness of how sins are made. He my forehead and then reaches over to the bedside table for a foil packet. "Stay still, don't move," He orders as he releases my hair. He rips the foil while I'm breathing hard, my blood singing in my veins. The anticipation is exhilarating. He leans down, his weight on me again, and he grabs my hair holding my head immobile. I cannot move. He enticingly traps me, and he's poised and ready to take me once more. "We're going to go real, slow this time, Brie," he breathes. And slowly, he knocks on my sinful entrance of mahogany as he slowly pushes inside of me in ease into me until his length is fully buried in me. He was stretching, filling, relentless. I groan loudly. It feels deeper this time, delectable. I complained again, and he deliberately circles his hips and pulls back, pauses a beat, and then eases his way back in. - Let's talk about the most powerful young bachelor, A business mogul of his time, Jonathan Christopher, De Leon. Combined, JACE DE LEON. After a failed attempt from high school, the courageous plus timid girl left him with a very challenging heart target hunt. A couple of years passed, his hunger for her supplemented after prowling her like what feels like forever, he yearns for her which leads to racing hormones and drifting dark desires of his very own Infatuations. How will the relationship between a powerful casanova and an elegant part-timer be restricted?

“How long has this been going on?” Fatima’s voice is steady, almost too steady. Her husband of six years stands there without a hint of shame. “Does it matter, Fatima? Yes, Leslie is pregnant with my child, but nothing is going to change,” he says, annoyed that she dares question him. Her calmness makes him shift, though he refuses to show it. “How. Long?” She repeats slowly, keeping her voice low so she won’t wake their sleeping children. “Three years.” Fatima blinks. “You’ve been cheating on me for half our marriage… with your business partner?” “Lower your voice. Don’t make it sound bad. I’m a man – these things happen.” He even chuckles. “Leslie will be taken care of. You’ll stay the wife, and Leslie and I–” “Will get married,” she cuts in. He stares, thrown off, until she adds, “Top drawer in your office. Divorce papers. Sign them first thing tomorrow.” No tears. No raised voice. No trembling. Just calm finality, and that unsettles him more than anger ever could. “I’m not letting that happen. You’re my wife.” “Ex-wife,” she corrects softly. Before he can react, Fatima pushes her chair back and stands. She doesn’t storm off or slam anything. She simply picks up a magazine from the table and walks out with quiet, controlled steps, far too composed for a woman ending a six-year marriage. And that hits him harder than any shouting would have. No tears. No pleading. No hesitation. Nothing. It wounds his pride. He deserves tears. “Hold on,” he snaps, rising quickly from his seat.

SAVAGE LOVE GENRE: Romance By, Tamar writes PROLOGUE Amour sniffed back her tears as she watched the scene before her. Never in her life would she have imagined getting herself in this situation she currently was. It felt like a never ending nightmare. The sound of footsteps was what rented the room, it was coming from a tall figure, his gaze never left the man that was tied down on a chair with both his hands chained down on the table The figure held a sharp silver colored knife in his hand, twirling as if it was his play toy, a vicious smirk playing on his lips Every step he took instilled fear and panic inside the man that was tied down. “Boss please forgive me! I was drunk so I thought she was one of the clan's whóre I swear I didn't know she was yours" The man begged like his life depended on it. "Which hand did you use to touch her" Aurelio spoke calmly. "My.. My.. L-Left-" He wasn't chanced to finish his sentence when Aurelio cut off his left hand completely. Blood splashed on his cheek as it began bumping out of the man's hand. "Aargh!!!" The agonizing cry from the man echoed in the room as he peed on himself. Aurelio turned to Amour who looked horrified with the scene she just witnessed. His hands found his way to her neck and he gripped it tightly, bringing her face close to his so he could have a clear view of the terrified look on her face. "This Is just the highest level of my kindness compared to what I can do. Remember this, you're mine! Mine to touch, mine to f**k, mine to do whatever I want with... No one else... But me"