Private Story Names Offensive

Five years into my marriage to the Don, Ives Moretti, he left me for dead during a shootout to get his mistress, Isabella, to safety. I woke up three days later in a private hospital room. No apology. Ives was cold. “You’re my wife. You knew the risks. Stop being so dramatic.” Then, he added, “Isabella’s different. She’s fragile. She needed me.” That was followed by three months of the silent treatment. Like always, he expected me to be the one to break, to come crawling back begging for forgiveness. Three months later, I handed the Irish deal to Isabella on a silver platter. The big one I’d spent half a year building myself. Ives thought it was a peace offering. He smiled, a rare, genuine thing these days. “I knew you’d come around. As a reward, we’ll go to Vegas. I know you’ve always wanted to go.” The next day, Isabella whined about being bored, and he broke his promise. He took her to Vegas instead. Told me it was “urgent family business.” This time, I didn’t cry. Didn’t make a scene. Ives was pleased I was being so understanding. He had no idea I was already cutting all ties to the Moretti family. That he’d already signed the divorce papers. I was free.

On the day we receive our bonus, one of the staff members of the finance department gives me 500 dollars worth of vouchers for the fast food restaurant downstairs. He tells me that my wife, Jillian Dunn, who is also the company's president, specifically ordered him to do so. In utter disbelief, I seek out Jillian and question her. "Didn't we agree that whoever secures the project will get a 50,000-dollar bonus? Stop messing around! I still need to pay for Freya's cochlear implant!" "I'm not messing around with you," Jillian answers seriously. "These vouchers can last you for a whole month. I wouldn't even give them to you if you were anyone else. "Money is tight right now at the company. Besides, Freya has been deaf for more than a decade now. She can survive being deaf for another decade." The next day, Jillian gives one of the interns a sports car that's worth 50,000 dollars. I look at the photo she uploads of her and the intern grinning widely as they sit in the car and give it a like. Jillian must assume that everything is proceeding smoothly since she has signed the contract. However, she misses the additional condition that's printed on the last page of the contract. I dial her rival's number, asking, "Ms. Swan, are you interested in Project Charlie?"

In my previous life, everything I do to care for myself somehow ends up benefiting my new housekeeper instead. I apply expensive skincare, yet dark spots and fine lines spread across my face, whereas the 45-year-old housekeeper's face becomes silkier. I jog every morning, yet my body only grows heavier and bulkier, while hers becomes slender and toned. When my husband notices the stretch marks on my abdomen, his face twists with disgust, and he never touches me again. "I genuinely can't bring myself to touch you. How can you look worse than Mirabelle when you take such good care of yourself?" My housekeeper looks at me with a sinister smile. A chill crawls up my spine, and the strange feeling makes me fire her on the spot. Yet, as soon as she leaves, I start aging at lightning speed, entering menopause 20 years early and developing diabetes and high blood pressure. I see every doctor I can, but after hanging on for a week, I die from a stroke. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day she first reports to work. This time, I push away the royal jelly she sets in front of me with a pleasant smile. "I've been avoiding certain foods lately. You can have it instead."

My son was caught in a car accident. My husband said that without a cornea donor, he would be trapped in darkness forever. Heartbroken, I let him sweet-talk me into signing away my corneas. Blind, I overheard my son gloating, "Dad, the plan worked. Mom fell for it, and Rachel's got her sight back. She won't be miserable anymore." "Yeah, now we're a real family with her," replied my husband. The truth gutted me. They'd played me like a fool to save my husband's old flame. When I confronted them, Rachel Huffman shoved me down a staircase, and I died in agony. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of my son's car accident.

WARNING: This novel contains a lot of mature erotic content that explores human desire, it's not for the weak. So take note please.  If you find it offensive you are free to leave now without even going further. Please don't say I didn't warn you. Some secrets are whispered, while some are moaned. You never say it out loud. Each ending chapter leaves you aching for more. It's a pure erotic collection and unfiltered passion. So, if you are uncomfortable with the explicit scenes that cross the boundaries, then I guess this book is not for you. I’m telling you now. I repeat  Because the book itself sounds dirty from the name like hell, what do you expect? Of course, it's a smut story that takes readers on an eclectic journey with a diverse sexual landscape of characters.  It is written for dark-minded adult readers who embrace fantasies and primal imagination. So if you are searching for a hot, highly erotic, dirty, wild sex novel, then no worries, you've gotten one.  So if you think this is for you, then you should get to have a lot of power struggles, mind games, and of course moments that blur the lines between pleasure and surrender. The book contains: Lesbian. Gay.  Horny stepmom. Secretary and CEO. And lots more. So sit back, grab your popcorn and I bet you will enjoy it.  It is rated 18… If you can handle the heat then please let's drive in because things will be messy while reading.  Thank you.

Warning !!! Mature content (18+) "Ah get me out of here, open my hands please." In this cold weather, her body was drowning in the cold water, her hands and feet were tied, and she was unable to get out of the bathtub. Until hours ago, I was the best person in the world to her, I knew but now seeing my brutal face, she was shivering with fear and cold. "How quick was it for you to be punished, who told you to go for a walk in the house and see it all?" She was shivering with cold and fear while I was constantly smiling. "Pup . . Please …” She was pleading with her eyes closed in a broken voice shivering from the cold. Her lips as well as her body were now turning blue. I sat on the floor next to her. She was losing consciousness while saying something in a low voice. "Oh No... How weak you are, you offensive ones, you cannot bear even a little." I put my thumb and forefinger together to indicate a slight pain and pitifully looked at her unconscious existence. I was not ready to listen my wolf this time. I was just remembering my brother’s painful death. - This is a story of a ruthless and cruel Alpha, who wants revenge for his brother but melts, when he met her. Alex was an innocent girl, madly in love with Alpha Conard. He wants revenge but what will happen when he found out that she was his mate? What will he do now? Will this love last forever? Or he will leave her?

Everyone in New York knew that Don Lorenzo Capone loved his wife dearly. At the height of our love, he shielded me from a bullet that went straight through his chest. The hospital issued eleven critical condition notices. I cried myself hoarse at the door of the emergency room. "Lorenzo, don't you dare die on me, or I'll instantly find a pretty boy to marry and have children with!" He survived the ordeal, and the first thing he did when he opened his eyes was to marry me. After the marriage, he ruled over New York's largest underground empire with an iron fist, but never allowed any woman to get close to him. On our third wedding anniversary, I went to his private dock to give him a surprise. There, I saw him holding a pair of twins, teaching them how to shoot. The man who could kill without batting an eye was looking at the children with eyes full of affection. The children's mother was Elena Tribbiani, the daughter of an arms dealer who was his equal. "Lorenzo, what if Vivian finds out?" Lorenzo dismissed it casually. "A fragile porcelain doll like her is only fit to be displayed in a glass case. Only a she-wolf like you is worthy of bearing my family's cubs." It turned out, what I thought was true love was merely a carefully-woven lie. I did not confront him. Instead, I sent a text message to an FBI special agent. "Agent Smith, I have a list of the arms deal you’re investigating."

Kimberly Samson Isang Nobody . Akala Ng lahat Isa lang siya'ng walang paki alam sa mundong ibabaw. Will, yes. she does like that, but. Not untill Trevor Suarez appear in the picture. Paano nga ba Niya i-iwasan Ang isang drop dead gorgeous na lalaki? Na alam Niya sa sarili Niya na malalim na Ang napasok Nito sa puso Niya'ng inalagaan Niya Ng ilang taon. ___ This is a work of fictions, Names, Characters, Business, Places, Events and incidents are either the products of the Author's playfull imagination or used in fictitious manner, any resemblance to the actual Persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Do not publish or transmit, modify, display or create derivative worksnor exploit the content of this story in any way please obtain permission.

On day two of Matthew's so-called business trip, I was wiping down the counter when I said, "Auri, play some music." Instead of music, a syrupy voice chirped, "Sure thing, my Baby Moon. Oh, and Matthew, don't forget Bibi's birthday surprise tonight." I froze. The speaker blasted some random playlist, but all I heard was 'Bibi.' Matthew Kein was my husband. So who the hell was Bibi? I called him. "Did you mess with our smart speaker?" A beat of silence, then his fake laugh. "Oh, a buddy dropped by. Probably logged his account in. Why?" I laughed back like I bought it, then hung up. Two taps later, I was scrolling the login history, already hailing a cab to the company tied to that mystery account.

In the fashion industry, I was known as the most mysterious designer. I worked hard to keep my identity from the public. As I stood at the top of business, I was invited to be the secret judge of the Innovating Design Competition’s final round. The organizer reserved a VIP seat for me in the middle of the front row and ensured that my presence would not be revealed. Just when I was about to sit down, a new male influencer pushed me aside and threw his hand bag onto my seat. “What are you looking at, bumpkin? How dare you show up at the VIP section dressed like a beggar? Where’s the security? Throw this person out!” I swallowed back my anger and replied coldly, “This seat was reserved for me.” The influencer laughed. “Yours? Do you know who I am? Ms. Reid spent eighty million dollars in sponsorship to get me to come here! Ms. Reid has the final say in this industry. Do you understand me?” I could only scoff at him. How bold of the Reid family! Did they really think they could make this kind of decision without consulting me?