Plummeted Synonyms

"I'm sorry." He apologized, "Too late get out" I glared but he doesn't budge, he proved to be stubborn and the mere sight of him, irked me. Slowly it made my limbs weak and it slowly made it all the way suffocating. "No," he pushed me against the wall, my back pressed firmly against it, his grip firm on my upper arm. My face blushed red, unsure how to react, yet I yelled, "You're breaking a rule! Don't fucking touch me." "Fuck the rules, you already broke it when you wore this dress." My heart plummeted, a heavy thud echoing in my chest, as the weight of his last words settled upon me like a leaden anchor "Well Fuck off, I don't want you, Tristan Donovan." I spat bitterly, all he did was smirk deviously, dangerously closing the bridge between our lips. "Fuck it Willow, I want you." He said as he crashed his lips against mine Willow Davis finds herself wedge in between one of her father's gamble, having lost the bet she is sold to the ruthless arrogant billionaire, Tristan Donovan, who wants nothing more than to make out a trophy of her. over the course of time they slowly get close but fear of falling in love Tristan has set three rules; "NO STAYING IN CONFINED OR CLOSED PLACES TOGETHER NO ANY FORM OF PHYSICAL CONTACT NO FALLING IN LOVE" But what happens when he's caught up in his own web and breaks one or all together? How far will he go, riding of every single rule? Will the arrogant billionaire finally fall in love? find out in SOLD TO THE ARROGANT BILLIONAIRE.

The day after my best friend, Sarah Blunt married Patrick, the second son of the Brosnan family, I too became a bride and wed Matthew, his older brother. She married a swimming champion, and I, the rock-climbing coach. We thought we had our futures all figured out. Then, something happened that summer. The four of us planned a getaway but Matthew and Patrick’s baby sister, Megan joined us and our peaceful trip became a crowded affair.  While rock climbing, disaster struck—the rope snapped, and all five of us plummeted into the river below. The brothers rushed frantically to save Megan, leaving Sarah and me at the mercy of the river’s current, battered and tossed like driftwood. By the time the rescue team pulled us from the water, we were bruised, scraped, and utterly spent. In the hospital, Megan and I received devastating news that would change everything.  “You’ve been pregnant for 40 days, Ma’am. How could you put yourself in such a risky situation? Your baby survived, but your friend lost hers.” Shaken, I called Matthew to tell him about the pregnancy. His anger cut through the line. “You’re angry that I went to Megs first and now you’re trying to fool me with a fake pregnancy? She’s my sister—it’s my duty to protect her!” Sarah faced her own storm. Patrick practically scoffed at her grief. “Miscarriage? Do you expect me to believe that? The doctors said you only had a 30% chance of conceiving. I can’t stand women who create drama out of nothing.” Both calls ended abruptly, leaving us stunned as we stared at each other in the sterile light of the hospital room. In that shared silence, we made our decision—we would leave these men behind and start anew, launching a business together. But when the brothers received our divorce papers, they showed up at my door in the middle of a storm, kneeling in the pouring rain, crying through the night for a second chance.