Novel & Cerita Poison Ivy

Arranged to marry a man she had never met at age twenty, Caroline wasn’t keen about it, but ended up reluctantly agreeing to the contract marriage on realizing there was going to be a huge sum of money involved. The marriage ended up being a complete whirlpool of different things for Caroline and her husband, Richard, and they ended up getting a divorce, before parting ways. Five years into the future, a freshly shot patient gets rushed to the hospital in which Caroline works, who surprisingly turns out to be her ex-husband, Richard. Love really does bloom in unexpected situations and Richard ends up falling for Caroline harder than he ever thought possible, realizing that he could never let her go this time, especially now that he knew she had bore him a son in secret.

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Each of my three ex-boyfriends ends up committing suicide right after eating food that my mother, Florence Winters, makes. Their deaths are very different from one another, with the only similarity being that they all eat food made by Mom before they die. Mom goes viral in an instant. She becomes the center of everyone's attention, and she is even taken away by the police. But they never manage to find anything wrong with any of the food she makes. I don't dare to get into another relationship. I pack my things and move out of the house, leaving Mom. Two years later, Mom shows up at my engagement party. She proceeds to feed my fiance, Lawrence Smith, some food…

I never really cared about the concept of virginity. All I wanted was to get fucked but the question now is by who? Her, him or both? There’s one person I’ve wanted my whole life. The problem? I’m not supposed to want her. This summer someone wants to destroy me. Good, let them try. Now it’s time to flip the tables. I guess we’ll never know but all I know is that this time around? I’ll be fucking reborn. Some girls lose their innocence. I’m about to lose everything… while enjoying every second of it.

Ruthless mafia heir and billionaire CEO Jett Luciano rules with blood, power, and unyielding dominance. When a brutal ambush leaves his father dead and a bullet in his chest, the only thing that pulls him back from hell is her — the curvy stranger whose face haunts his every dark desire. Now his obsession consumes him. On her birthday, Jett takes what he wants. He kidnaps Laura and locks her in his opulent world with a dangerous ultimatum: Fall in love with him in one year… or he’ll release her. But Jett doesn’t wait passively. With every commanding touch, every filthy promise whispered against her skin, and every dominant stroke that sets her weak heart racing, he awakens the raw passion she’s been starved for. In his realm of velvet sin and velvet chains, Laura’s resistance begins to shatter. Her neglected body craves the very man who stole her freedom. Surrender has never felt so addictive. Obsession has never burned so hot. In a deadly game of power and pleasure, can Laura survive falling for the dangerous devil who owns her… or will his dark love consume them both?

”Rudina, do you trust me?” I feel my blood go still and the tongue tastes like sandpaper. He had been different from all the other men. He had been everything I had needed all my life and I had never doubted that I meant more to him than a weak wolf. But what was I supposed to do when I found out he only accepted me because his status was in danger? As a mere solution to a threat to keep his pride. It had shattered me. ”No, Volk. I do not.” I say in a husky voice. His green eyes glisten in the dark and I cannot believe what I see. I was making the Alpha of the Red crescent moon cry. Rudina and Volk can never be more different in ideals and values but fate has it that their paths must cross and the universe brings them together in the most unexpected place. Setting his pride aside, Volk intends to conquer the world for a woman he loves through whatever challenge he may be forced to face. See how a man and woman experience love for the first time. A blend of love and lust with demons lurking in the shadows.

Esmeralda Peters had never thought her life would be that of a fairytale or maybe a nightmare. Living in the Eastern part of LA, she stayed away from the Local Mafias and their doings. But then, it was of no use. One way or the other..she had become the Mafia's obsession and she hated it. Her father being the gambler he was known for had gone ahead to gamble the devil's money. He was a brutal being, but she was everything an angel could possess. He was a killer, she was just a normal girl who wanted nothing but a mundane life like others, but NOW, there was no escaping her Monster.

As one of London's premier wedding planners, I have spent my career orchestrating "perfect moments" for others, yet I never seemed to find my own. The ballroom at Claridge's was bathed in an opulent glow for my best friend Stella's wedding. The bridal bouquet sailed over the crowd. It brushed a young woman's fingertips, bounced once, and landed squarely in my arms. In an instant, half of London's high society turned toward Ryan. "Proposal! Proposal!" the crowd chanted over the rhythmic clink of champagne flutes. "Ryan, a sign like that is rare. Looks like we should prepare for the next big party!" Ryan was nudged forward by the crowd. In his charcoal Savile Row suit, he still managed to look detached, as if the noise had nothing to do with him. As I held the flowers, the lingering scent of fresh roses filled the air. For one ridiculous second, I even wondered whether I should warn him not to crease his trousers if he knelt. But he only smiled. Then, with practised ease, he took the bouquet from my arms. Without the slightest hesitation, he turned and handed it to his assistant, Emily, who was standing nearby. "She touched it first," he said, ruffling my hair with the same flawless tenderness I had endured for eight years. "Be good, Claire. Let's wait for the right time." The attention followed the flowers as they moved away. I caught the flicker of triumph in Emily's eyes and quickly looked down, tracing the intricate patterns of the carpet while forcing a perfectly poised smile. Ryan lived by schedules and efficiency, yet he never understood one simple truth: some chances, once missed, don't come with a "next time". My own wedding is next Saturday. And he has been officially struck from the guest list.

“I hate you. I’ve always hated you.” He gruffed in annoyance and I snorted while folding my arms. “Best believe the feeling is fucking mutual.” “Care to explain why you’re always giving me the ‘look’ then?” He demanded, a smirk tugging at the sides of his lips. “What stupid look?” “Like you want me to fuck you.” ~~~ It was a hate-at-first-sight thing. Ava and Mason got off an extremely wrong foot and hoped to never cross parts again. Neither of them expected that the next time they’d be seeing each other again, is to be officially introduced to one another as step siblings. Things didn’t get better from there, it got worse. Especially now that they had to live in the same house. Things drastically take a left turn when their parents plans a ‘first family’s vacation’, but were unable to make an appearance as scheduled because of some last minute changes, leaving Ava and Mason by themselves, all alone on an island. For three weeks. Ava passionately hated Mason, until she didn't. Till she couldn’t pretend to not notice how insanely good looking he was… till she couldn’t pretend to be immune to Mason’s intense gaze and lingering touches… Till she couldn’t deny that she wanted Mason to play her curvy body like she was his favorite guitar… Till she couldn’t deny that she had gone ahead and fallen head over heels, for Mason.

I cradled Chloe’s newborn, filled with joy and affection. The baby was not blood of mine, yet as Chloe’s best friend, I would love and protect the little one with everything I had. "Sweet boy," I whispered, gently tapping the tip of his nose. "I'm your godmother. No one would ever hurt you." The hospital room was washed in golden afternoon light. Adrian stood by the window in a dark overcoat, his profile sharp against the glass. He looked exactly like the man the whole industry knew: controlled, elegant, untouchable. Hollywood's golden producer. My newlywed husband. Then he said, in a voice as flat as if he were discussing a contract, "He's not your godson. He's my son." For a second, I thought I had misheard him. Maybe I was just exhausted from the wedding, from the endless calls and fittings and congratulations. I almost laughed. But Adrian turned around. A cruel little smile curved his lips. "The child is mine," he said again. My arms tightened around the baby. "The night you got hurt," he went on, "I was with Chloe the whole night. We went through an entire box... apparently this little guy still found a way to arrive." I couldn't move. It felt as if ice water had been poured down my throat. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. After a long silence, I finally managed to whisper, "But... we only registered our marriage yesterday." Adrian walked over and put an arm around my shoulders, almost gently. His tone was soft, but it carried the kind of condescension people used with a child throwing a tantrum. "Don't worry. Chloe and I were never going to get married. If I had wanted to marry her, I would have done it years ago." He paused, and something almost pleased flashed in his eyes. "Didn't Chloe ever tell you? We had a history. I was her first."