Piledriver Waltz Makna

The life trial system "If You Think You Can Do Better, Prove It" burst onto the scene like a traveling circus promising wonders. The idea was plain enough: "If you reckon someone's life is a mess, and you think you can do better, go ahead and prove it. There's a reward waiting if you do." Before I knew it, my whole family had me pegged for the fool in the middle of the show. There was my mother, dreaming of turning me into some grand goose; my husband, who'd spent years dodging his rightful share of the family load; and my son, mortified by the very sight of me. They shoved me onto the "judgment seat" like I was the villain of the tale. Every last one of them swore up and down that, given my place, they'd manage my life better than I ever could. The stakes? Well, if they pulled it off, my consciousness would be erased—gone, wiped out like a mistake on a chalkboard—and turned into their personal servant. On top of that, they'd waltz off with a cool million dollars. But if they couldn't? Then I'd be the one raking in three million dollars. Now that's a gamble for the ages, isn't it?

The year I loved Channing Waltz the most, he shattered my hopes. I remember, as I was hauled into the restroom, beaten mercilessly by strangers, there he stood, grinning like the sun itself. His face beamed with a brightness that made my heart sink. The burns from his childhood friend's curling iron marred my skin, leaving a trail of scars, and all the while, he took out his phone, snapping pictures of me in my undressed humiliation and posting them online for the world to mock. I cried, begged him to spare me, but he only laughed coldly, his voice as sharp as a blade. "You haven't even begun to suffer what my sister went through. What's the hurry?" That was when the truth hit me like a lightning strike. He had come to me, drawn me in with warmth, with affection, pretending to care—when all along, it was merely a means to an end. He had used me to set the stage to avenge his sister.

Debbie Griffin, second born of the Griffin's sees herself been drawn to the darkness after the death of her parents . And the continuous torment that keeps her awake at night, she waltz into Alexander Jefferson world a young billionaire who has his own demons lurking in the shadows. What happens when they cross paths? Would she accepts a marriage of inconvenience ? What would be the fate of their lives when Debbie finds out the very secret that led to her torments? Wanna find out? Yallah!! —----------- “I didn't do it- I didn't do it” the voice repeated in distress. She move in that direction. “Who's there?” Debbie asked getting all sweaty,she couldn't help but be drawn to the voice. She moved closer to see a manly figure shaking. He was facing the walls so she couldn't see his face. “I didn't do it, please stop leave me alone!” Alex cries to himself dragging his hair and cutting himself. Debbie fearfully shifts backwards but stood wondering why he was acting unstable. “Hey,just calm down okay you are fine” Debbie said softly moving closer to him having no idea why she's doing this.