Pick A Number

Malachi Brooks is a wealthy, eligible bachelor with everything going for him. He is living the life many would want, but he is missing something - The love of a real woman. Of course he has the pick of any woman he chooses; women would bend over backwards to bare his children. He is very attractive, intelligent and he has a lot to offer but he wants something different than what has been getting. Brianna Martin wants something other than being a booty call. She is a thick sistah with a lot going for her. She wants to find real love with a real man who would appreciate her for being her. Lately, Brianna has been thinking it's inevitable for her to be single for the rest of her life. On his way to work, Malachi sees the woman of his dreams but doesn't know how to get in touch with her. Yet he is determined to find out who she is. Meanwhile, Brianna gets an inappropriate phone call that livens things up for her. She does the unthinkable and steals the caller’s number to hunt him down. She’s intrigued to find out who is behind that sexy voice. As luck would have it, Brianna finds the caller and begins calling him to give him a taste of his own medicine and they click! A meet-up is planned between Brianna and the caller. Brianna is hesitant and decides to have a back up plan. The plan goes awry leaving confessions needing to be made. Will Brianna be able to come clean? Will Malachi see Brianna for who she really is?

A number one CEO unbothered queen was kidnapped and hidden inside the island with her kidnapper--the mafia leader of the kidnapping syndicate.

Five years ago, Cyrus Parker cried as he begged me to let his childhood sweetheart, Paige Gallagher, give birth to his child. I agreed, but soon I named my conditions. Paige and her child were to be sent abroad, never to return to this country. At the same time, Cyrus needed to compensate me with half of the Parker family's assets. Everyone called me a materialistic wrench who had her eye on the Parkers' wealth this whole time. As for Cyrus, he'd rather make an enemy out of the entire Parker family just so he could protect that child. Five years later, when I go to a neighboring city on a business trip, I stumble upon a lost boy. So, I take him to the police station and have him contact his family there. The police officer dials the phone number that the boy is able to recite for him. Soon, I hear a familiar voice coming from the phone. "Don't be scared now. I'll come over and pick you up right away." In less than half an hour, Cyrus, who's supposed to be in a business meeting that's taking place thousands of miles away, rushes into the police station. I meet his gaze from my seat on the bench, leaving him stunned. A smile appears on my face as I get up from the bench. "I didn't even know you'd sired another son with another woman behind my back, Cyrus. It seems that you won't be able to keep the other half of your wealth now."

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 went through 100 hormone shots for him—just to finally get pregnant. Five years begging those shots to work—all for Rafe Morello. The Don with ice in his veins... but also the guy who used to wipe sweat off my forehead in the middle of the night. Everyone thought we were goals. Then I handed over my lab results, and the nurse paused, blinking up at me. "Sorry, what's your relationship to Rafe Morello? There's already a pregnancy under his wife's name." I froze. Carmela Vitale. His dead brother's wife. Spouse listed: Rafe Morello. Breathing? Suddenly optional. No tears. No drama. I just slid off my ring and tucked it into my bag. Then I called the number buried at the bottom of my drawer. My voice? Freakishly calm. "Yeah. Three days. Pick me up." It wasn't about revenge. I left because I finally got it—some people, you gotta cut loose if you ever wanna stop bleeding. Three days later, he walked into a silent bedroom. On the nightstand: my wedding ring, the signed divorce papers, and a copy of the ultrasound. He sat on the floor and just... kept rubbing that ring. Regret doesn't knock. It floods. And that night, it drowned every lie he thought he could get away with. That was when he finally figured it out—love could wreck a person worse than hate ever could.

The day I was released from prison was New Year's Eve. My fiancée had promised to pick me up. Instead, she was busy ringing in the New Year with the man she had always loved. By the time I found my way back home from memory, she was in the middle of a cheering crowd, wrapped in his arms. "Nancy, Samuel's getting out today. Aren't you going to pick him up?" someone asked. Nancy Wheeler let out a soft laugh, her red lips curling slightly. "Pick him up? What's more important, him or New Year's? He's been in there for years. One more day won't kill him." "Aren't you afraid he'll be angry?" Colder than the wind and snow outside were Nancy's indifferent words. "He's the one who made a mistake. What right does he have to be angry? The fact that I was still willing to be with him was already a mercy." As the words left her mouth, she lifted her gaze, only to meet mine. The smile froze on her face. The cold light from inside fell across me, and something in my heart froze with it. She said she was still willing to have me. However, I no longer wanted her.

The day Jessica Smith and I went to pick out our wedding rings, her long-lost first love unexpectedly returned to town. When we went to pick him up from the airport, she introduced me to him, saying, "This is Sebastian Grant, a friend." Jessica made it clear that I wasn't her fiancé. She even went a step further and called off our engagement party scheduled for the next day. Just when she thought I would fight and insist on marrying her, I suddenly said in relief, "Your best friend previously wanted to hook up with me, you know? And honestly, I was kind of interested."

In the first year I was brought home, the phony heiress Viola Baker suggested a trip to Gold Island to build a sisterly connection with me. My fiancé, Jeremy Abbott, had joined us to ensure our safety. However, they ended up amassing significant gambling debts at the island's casinos. In a bid to flee, he abandoned me on the island as a hostage, vanishing without a trace alongside Viola. The casino staff restrained me, poised to unleash their wrath upon me. In my frantic struggle, I glimpsed a phone number labeled "Island Owner" on the leader's phone screen. "Could that be the number of my brother, who had cared for me for more than a decade?"

My name is Hazel Falken, and I am the only daughter of the Base Commander during the apocalypse. Even though it is the apocalypse, I am still spoiled left and right by my family and raised to be their little princess at home. My dad, Ernest Falken, is worried that I will marry into a family that will mistreat me. So, he decides to choose four husband candidates and bring them up in our own home for me to pick from when I'm older. In my past life, I chose Curtis Granger, whom I have liked for a long while, when Dad asked me to pick my husband. However, not long after our marriage, Curtis volunteers himself as a guard to be stationed outside the base perimeter. He never returns home after that, and I am left living as a widow in the safety of the base's inner district. 30 years later, when my hair has turned fully white, I decide that I can't wait for him anymore and go out to find him. I then realize that he has formed another family outside the base without my knowing. It then dawns on me that Curtis never liked me. He had also only married me because he wanted to repay Dad for bringing him up. Not long after that, a wave of zombies attacks us. Curtis pushes me down and shields me under his body. "Hazel, I know that I never should've lied to you. I'll give up my life to repay the kindness that Commander Falken has shown to me. "But if there is a next life, I hope that you won't pick me again." When I open my eyes again, I find out that I have travelled back in time to the day when Dad asks me to pick my husband. "Hazel, these four people are my right-hand men. Whom would you like to pick as your husband?"

The first year after they finally bring me home, the impostor suggests a trip to Golden Island so we can build some brotherly rapport. For safety, my fiancee comes with us. They rack up a massive gambling debt at Golden Island's casino. To get themselves out of trouble, she leaves me behind as a hostage and disappears with him. The casino thugs pin me down, ready to take out their anger on me. I struggle to break free, and that is when I notice the leader's phone lighting up with a number for the island owner. Isn't that the number of the adoptive sister who has adored me for more than a decade?