Pocket-sized

I'm a nationally certified animal trainer running the Lion King, Caesar's final assessment. I've barely stepped into the enclosure corridor when the steel guillotine door slams down behind me. My wife's laughter crackles over the loudspeaker. "Everyone, we're doing the ultimate challenge today! We're locking the so-called number-one animal trainer in the Lion King's enclosure and taking bets on whether he wets himself in ten minutes!" Caesar crouches low and rumbles a warning. I reach for my tranquilizer gun but stop cold. The liquid isn't the right color. In a phony sing-song voice, the veterinarian, Hugh Archer, says, "Lucian, I forgot to mention, I swapped your tranquilizer darts for pepper spray so you won't hurt Caesar by mistake. "You two are so close. Just win him over with love!" I look at Caesar, his eyes bloodshot from the stimulant, and it clicks. Hugh still resents that I stopped him from touching a tiger with his bare hands a few days ago. I tune out the trash blaring over the loudspeaker, pull a remote from my pocket, and hit the button. It's the master switch for the electric fence gates around every predator enclosure in the zoo. If I don't make it out, no one does.

Marrying Lucas Darken, son of the wealthiest IT company CEO in the city, was all Taya had dreamed about since their first meeting. But the pride and joy of marrying Lucas turned into a disaster, after Taya discovered the affair Lucas had been hiding. To her surprise, the girl Lucas had been having an affair with was none other than her so called best friend. Damaged, Taya tried hard to cover her unbearable pain, but deep inside, she swore that Lucas would suffer way worse than she did. Being drained mentally and emotionally, Taya eventually decided to leave her bitter life behind, moving away to a small town, hoping for a new adventure all her own. Her journey led to her meeting the attractively secretive Declan Mercer, a man with deep deep pocket, who changed Taya's life completely. Declan helped with her transformation from a meek, soft spoken, heart-broken girl, into a tough, blunt woman. However, as Taya got closer to Declan, she learned that he was in fact the most feared mob boss in history. Further, with Lucas' reappearance and Declan claiming Taya to be his one and only, along with Ella showing up that she dragged Taya through another level of hell, could Taya survive this time?

It was the third anniversary of my registration of a mate bond with Xavier Ashford, the alpha of Shadowcrest Pack. My gift to him was a positive pregnancy test, but his gift to me was a contract terminating our bond as mates. I froze, too distraught to reach out and take it from him. Xavier cleared his throat awkwardly. "A wolf tricked Talia into getting pregnant. A pup born out of mate bond can't get the rights to live in the pack. My plan is to terminate our bond as mates and become mates with Talia for the time being so that her pup can have a legal identity. After she gives birth to her pup, then you and I can become mates again. How does that sound?" He passed me a bond termination contract. It had clearly been prepared a long time ago. He noticed my hesitation and explained gently, "You're my one true love. I'm only helping her as a friend. Even after we split up, I can guarantee that you won't be mistreated." I looked up at him with a smile and stayed silent. Then, I reached into my pocket and felt the pregnancy test under my fingers. The two red lines on the screen were as clear as day.

I help my students gain admission to top state art academies, yet my boss, Sebastian Emerson, withholds every cent of the pay I earned from 24 consecutive days of overtime. When I confront him in anger, he accuses me of stealing 120 thousand dollars in training fees from the students. "Honestly, being poor is no excuse for being shady. And having disabled parents doesn't give you the right to steal. "You've got two days to pay it back! Otherwise, I'll make sure you spend a few nights in jail, and I'll even inform your parents!" When a student calls, he snatches the phone and starts screaming, "There's no money! All your tuition went into buying your art supplies! If you've got a problem, go ahead and sue me, brat!" Meanwhile, Jayla Buckley, who is curled up in his arms, keeps placing order after order of Chaennal haute couture without the slightest hesitation. Watching the two of them colluding so shamelessly, I grip my attorney license in my pocket until my knuckles ache. Take it to court? Litigation? That's my arena. And I'll make sure both of them end up exactly where they belong—behind bars.

I had funded Tilly Jenkins for five years—and spent those same five years chasing after her. Just when I thought I had finally won her heart—when I believed she was ready to spend her life with me—I discovered the truth: the one she had loved all along was her childhood sweetheart, the boy who had grown up by her side. I, on the other hand, to her, was nothing more than a privileged elite who used money to grind her pride into the dirt. A few years into our marriage, she secretly transferred my assets away—and even had a child with that childhood sweetheart of hers. In the end, I died filled with resentment, trapped in a raging fire. The flames reflected the sight of the three of them together, smiling like a perfect family, while I cried myself to death in despair. After I was reborn, Tilly's childhood sweetheart shoved me hard, sneering with open contempt. "What do you take us for? Toys for rich people like you?!" I slipped my bank card back into my pocket at once. "Sorry, having money doesn't mean I'm brain-dead. I'm not interested in trashy toys like that."

On the company's designated monthly day off, Gigi Lott, Donald Hoover's secretary, posted an Instagram story. The caption read, "So what if you're the boss of me when we're at work during the day? At night, I'm the one on top!" In the photo, she was lying atop a water bed covered in rose petals, and the usually stern Donald was kneeling down to massage her feet for her. From his pocket hung a brand new golden necklace. Just that morning, I bought several gold bars and gave them to Donald while beseeching him to make our relationship public. He happily took the locket from me, but when I tried to take a photo of us with our phone, he smacked my phone out of my hands, smashing it into pieces. With a look of pure derision, he declared, "Why don't you take a good look at yourself in the mirror first? You really are a motherless wretch who wasn't raised right. Look at the lengths you'd go to just to ruin me!" Throughout the last five years, I had meekly gone along with his demand that we keep our relationship a secret, claiming it was because office romances were forbidden. But now, I was abruptly hit with the realization of how laughable it all was. The next day, I sent my father a message. "I admit defeat. I'm willing to come home and inherit the family business."

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

“I know who you are,” Rebecca said to him, breathing his perfume. He looked into her eyes. “Who am I?" A rebellious tear fell from his eyes. “You're not the tenant that came one day without a penny in his pocket, you're the CEO of the Muriel's company.” She expressed with pain breaking her heart. “We're not very different, Alexander Muriel. I'm the daughter of the mafia king who killed your sister and you're the idiot who took my son away." Rebecca smiled mockingly. Alexander's heart broke. “I should never have looked at you, I shouldn't have loved you.” The tenant's secret tells the story of Rebecca who was kicked out of her house and ran away with her son from her ex-husband who wants to kill her to owe her shares of the company but what she didn't expect to find in her way was a helpless man who had nothing to offer but his protection as a man. Living a double life, Alexander falls for Rebecca in the searching for the killer of his sister without knowing Rebecca is the mafia king's daughter who killed Graciela. Will the love between them be able to surpass any obstacle? Will they be able to forgive each other for their mistakes? Secrets don't last forever and they're going to discover they are not the only guilty ones.

I'm the top salesperson at a tutoring center. Payday comes, and my commission is 50 cents. I'm so furious that I march straight to my boss to demand answers, but his secretary, Sasha Watson, steps in front of me. She digs through her pocket, pulls out 50 cents, and flicks it straight at my face in front of everyone. "Here's your 50 cents!" My ears ring. Heat crawls up my neck and into my skull. "Ms. Watson, this has to be a mistake. I closed 1.5 million dollars on my own last month. My team pulls in over three million dollars. My commission should be at least 200 grand." Sasha rolls her eyes. She reaches into her wallet, pulls out a dollar bill, and slaps it against my cheek. "Stop barking! Fine, I'll throw you a dollar. Keep the change!" I'm about to lose it. "My mom is still waiting on that 200 grand for her surgery. Without it, she could die." The coworkers around us start whispering. "50 cents? For the top salesperson? That's insane!" "Lower your voice. She's the boss's niece! What she says goes. Unless you want to get fired, pretend you didn't hear anything." I turn away, pull out my phone, and dial our biggest competitor. "I'm in. Five million dollars a year."

War. War is all we know. War for peace, war to take, war to protect. War for resources. It is impossible to avoid war because your neighbors won’t. If you are perceived as weak, you will be targeted. Your land and wealth stolen, your people killed, sons enslaved and daughters raped. To survive in this world, more important than oxygen; is strength and a cold heart. The only source of strength are mana veins. He who owns mana veins has the right to live and the right to rule. He who owns mana veins better have the strength to keep it or long life is but a pipe dream. Xasha hated war. War had taken everything from him and gave nothing in return. He hated that all wars were over petty things like pride and pocket change. He always looked to the vast wilderness with longing. He wondered why all the warmongers hadn’t turned their spears there. Where vast lands and untapped wealth were. Once he became a father. Xasha, the naïve, knowledge-loving merchant, decided he did not want his child growing up in the same world he did. He decided to change the world, end all war and unite the abandoned region. How will he do it? By starting a war, a war that will end all wars. Not a war with his neighbors over pride or a few mana veins. No. He will rage against the wilderness and the world beyond.