Proper Table Manners

After secretly registering our marriage, my lawyer husband, Benedict White, proposed holding a public wedding ceremony every time he gained favor with his lover, Anna Lester. Over three years, Benedict asked me thirty-three times and broke thirty-three promises. The first time, Anna’s dog died. He said we had to mourn for three months to honor it. I stood in a wedding dress and apologized endlessly to the friends and relatives seated below the stage. The second time, Anna had menstrual pain. He turned around on the way and went to care for her. After that, every ceremony he promised came with a new problem from Anna. I cried. I protested. Yet Benedict always said, “She's just a friend with benefits. You’re my wife. Don’t be so petty about it.” After the thirty-third time, I finally grew tired. I slid a divorce agreement across the table in front of him. “Let’s get this over with.”

I've been married to Elliot Graves, the mafia drug lord in NYC, for the past eight years. But today—on our wedding anniversary—I received a photo of him with my best friend, Lila, celebrating as if they were the ones married. And in her arms was my son, Owen. I stared at the image, then typed out two words in reply. “How perfect.” Half a hour later, Elliot stormed through the front door. His voice thundered through the hallway. “Why do you always have to be so bitchy to Lila?” Owen, my own little boy, shoved at my leg and glared. “Bad Momma,” he said. “I wish Miss Lila was my real mommy.” I didn’t flinch. I simply walked over to the drawer, pulled out the crisp stack of papers I’d long prepared, and dropped them on the table with a quiet finality. “Alright,” I said, my voice calm. “It’s all my fault. Now, can I go?”

“I don't want anything to do with her, I would rather marry her mother than marry her.” Manny felt insulted. Angry, she slammed her fist on the table, picked up the papers that needed signing and then tore them into pieces. ***** Manny, a lady with a perfect life and heiress to Millicent's fashion house, is constantly pressured by her mother to get married and have a baby. But haunted by the heartbreaks of her past relationships, she makes a bold decision to undergo IVF. What happens when she discovers that there has been a mix-up and now she's carrying the child of Andrew Cooper, an arrogant billionaire with a reputation as formidable as his wealth and who won't let her keep her baby? Will she win this baby war? Andrew Cooper, billionaire and CEO of a multi-billion dollar company hires a surrogate but everything spirals into chaos and now a fat lady carries his child. He is determined to collect the child from her even if it means digging up her past

New book: Alpha's moonborn mate is OUT now. Read it today:) _____ (Book #2. Protected by the bully: OUT NOW. Read it on Goodnovel.) . Whenever she'd be asked about a thing in life that disgusted her the most, she would fume in anger and answer, "That bad bully !" Shouting loudly, she would point at the round big corner table in the school canteen where he would sit with his bully gang. ****** Valentine, was adopted by doctor Jason Pereira, of Dark Shine pack, an elder doctor who looked after the warriors and soldiers of the pack Alpha Hercules best buddy. Ryley Shine, was the son of Alpha Hercules and going to be alpha, and the bad bully who loved to bully the wolves studying in the school, to be precise her... He hated her sight, her eyes, her smile, her heart beats, her tears... Everything about her just because she was his mate, A HUMAN NAIVE NERDY MATE! Genre: Vampire/Werewolf + Romance + Teen fiction.*Not fully edited! It's under editing at the moment.*

Three months after Pete took his foster sister as his mistress, I terminated my marriage, chose to die on paper, and vanished from his life entirely. One quiet morning, I handed my child over to the nannies arranged by the family and walked out of the Rizzuto estate alone. Pete didn’t chase after me that day. He believed I would come back. Once I had calmed down, I would lower my head. The following spring, I was diagnosed with cancer. Standing in the hospital corridor, I suddenly remembered years ago— Pete had taken my hand and said, “You’ll be the finest Donna this Rizzuto family has ever had.” What pulled me back was not Pete. It was a letter from Sicily. Thin paper. Cold, rigid handwriting—the kind favored by old families who had ruled too long to bother with sentiment. “The heir has begun showing signs of emotional instability.” “Recent violent behavior has caused internal concern.” “There is disagreement within the family regarding the current Don’s judgment.” In the mafia world, there is only one reason the elders would bypass a man and reach out to a wife officially presumed dead— When the family itself begins to lose balance. So I returned. To the place I had once fled with everything I had. This time, there were no illusions. I no longer placed any hope in emotion. I was there only to fulfill the obligations of the family. I knew exactly how much time I had left. And I knew exactly what needed to be done. I became a proper Donna.

Unang araw sa trabaho ni Jean at hindi niya inaasahan na ang nakaaway pala niya sa shop ng kaniyang kaibigan ay ang magiging boss pala niya. “Good morning Ms. Jean Salazar! Remember me?” Sarkastikong sabi nito. At ako naman ay halos manigas sa kinatatayuan ko! At parang gusto ko na lang bumuka ang lupa at lumubog dito! Di ako makapag salita dahil parang walang lumabas na boses sa lalamunan ko, pinagpapawisan ako kahit ang lamig naman sa loob! Napakurap naman ako at tumikhim bago nagsalita. “Huh? Ah ehem,  g-good m-morning sir! I'm Jean Salazar sir! Nice to meet y-you!” "You can sit down Ms. Salazar baka sabihin mo wala akong manners?” sir Sandrex. “Po? si-sige po sir, t-thank you!” utal-utal kong sagot. “So Ms. Salazar, alam kong nagulat ka sa nalaman mo! Right? Na ang gago palang nakabungguan mo kahapon ay ang magiging boss mo ngayon!” sir Sandrex “S-sir! I...” “Ssshhh, Ms. Salazar don't worry I don't mix personal matters in my business!” sir Sandrex. 'Lord! Please gawin mo na kong invisible ngayon!' Binubulong ko to sa sarili ko habang nakatingin ako sa supladong lalaki na to! Aba, Malay ko bang siya pala ang magiging boss ko! Tadhana nga naman oo! Hinawakan nito ang magkabilang armrest ng upuan at inilapit ang muka sa akin! Na halos na aamoy ko na ang mabango nitong hininga at ang pabango nito na alam kong mamahalin! Ang lapit ng muka niya na halos ilang dangkal na lang ay lalapat na ang matangos niyang ilong sa ilong ko! Lord! Please ibuka mo na talaga ang lupa! Now na! “Afraid of what I'm going to do Ms. Salazar? Look straight into my eyes! And tell me what you said yesterday!” Sir Sandrex with his husky voice.

On my fifth birthday with Zachary Murdock, I sit once again in front of a full table of cold food, just like every year before. Zachary had promised, as always, to spend the day with me. And, as always, he breaks that promise. This year, it's because his childhood sweetheart wanted to shoot a set of "artistic photos". She invited him and a few of his close buddies to be part of it. Without hesitation, he ditches me again and runs straight into her arms. At 11:00 pm, his childhood sweetheart posts a photo to her social media and sets it so that only I can see it. In the picture, four men are in nothing but black briefs and Windsor-knotted ties. They kneel around her while she is draped in sheer fabric like a goddess. The caption reads, "Some people beg for crumbs, but I own the entire bakery." I take a screenshot. Then, I send it to the girlfriends of all three of Zachary’s best buddies. If they all look down on me this much, let's hope they don't end up on their knees begging me someday.

On the fourth day after my son's death, I decided to secretly dissolve my military marriage with my husband. Before that, I had three days to settle everything for my son. On the first day, I tricked my husband into signing the cremation papers. On the second day, I went to the school and collected the textbooks my son would never get to use. On the third day, I cooked a table full of dishes and begged my husband to celebrate our son's last birthday. He agreed, but soon after claimed he had a mission. Instead, he spent the entire night setting off fireworks with his childhood sweetheart. That night, I cooked. Then, I sat alone before my son's photo and ate all my son's favorite foods. The next day, my husband returned, guilt flickering in his eyes as he handed me a brand-new backpack. He said it was a gift for our child's first day of school. But he didn't know—our child would never have a first day of school.

Under the Moon Goddess, I was once the happiest Luna of the Black Pack. Alpha Mike cherished me, cradled me in his palms, and bestowed upon me a name and glory. But on that day— I lay on the operating table as he slit open my abdomen himself, offering my liver to his white moonlight, Lina. My husband held Lina’s hand, whispering tenderly in her ear: "Don’t be afraid. Anna’s life is worthless—yours is the one that matters." As the anesthesia wore off, agony seared through me. The doctor gasped: "She’s in her differentiation phase! Forcing the surgery will cripple her for life!" Yet Mike didn’t even glance back, leaving with Lina in his arms: "Just an Omega. Saving you is her privilege." Later, I knelt before the witch Jery, trading all my memories for freedom. When Mike stormed into the shop, roaring at my amnesiac, bubble-blowing self— I shrank into the witch’s arms, trembling: "Sister… who is this madman?" His eyes burned crimson as he tore our contract to shreds.

Bianca was sold to a mafia lord at a very young age and all she could think about was getting revenge. Her plan was going well until the mafia lord's son, Nico, came into the picture. Nico was handsome and cold, brutal but calm. However, when he met Bianca, she brought out his troubled side. He didn't want her. She didn't care. In fact, she hated him. She felt he was emotionless and he felt she was too tough. Both were intrigued. ~♡~ "The only thing stopping me from taking you right here on this table, is that you belong to my father." His voice was tensed and I didn't need to see his face to know how he felt. "My father's whore." He added. I swallowed, hurt by his words. "You keep calling me a whore but when will you start treating me like one and fuck me." He was resisting. I knew it. I didn't know why but I hated him for doing so.