Psycho Post Malone Lyrics

Love is a Lie. As a photographer for the New York Post, Kari Martin was used to seeing heartache and scandal up close. But one night at the club… her whole world changed. Heartbroken and willing to call off her wedding, she decides a change is in order and moves from NYC to a small town in Maine, where the average age of the residents there is sixty (or thereabouts). She works to fit in perfectly, and tries like hell not to let anyone find out just how very jaded she’s recently become over the lie called love. Jake Isaac left Texas quite a few years ago; his heart torn from his chest, and his mind set on being a bachelor forever. Maine would welcome him, give him land to explore and a community to belong to. Getting a job as the coach of the local junior high and serving on the fire department kept him busy — and labeled him a hometown hero — but the truth of his damaged heart was forever hidden. No one would ever know just how jaded he was about love. That is… until he meets Kari.

On New Year's Eve, Facebook blew up. The reason was that Bennett Miles, the golden boy of Crestmoor’s elite, posted an update. In the photo, a shy young woman hid her face as she leaned against his shoulder while he grinned. His eyes were full of affection and mischief. His caption read, "What do I do? Looks like I'm officially taken." Friends in his circle flooded the comment section with congratulations. The real frenzy began when Bennett announced that the first 10,000 followers to like, share, and comment on the post would each receive a gold bar. The internet went wild with envy and curiosity. Everyone scrambled to find out more about the woman in the picture. Then, someone claiming to have inside information started a livestream. "Stop guessing. Her name is Kara Sierra. You know Sierra Hall at Crestmoor College? That building was named after her! "Two years ago, she had kidney failure. Bennett personally donated one of his own kidneys to save her!"

Everyone knows that love is blind, but these three have taken the blindness to a new level. Ella had a rough life, she was abused, neglected and just went through the typical hell you would imagine, but she wasn't about to forget all the abuse, or let it go, instead, Ella had called an assassin to have her revenge. Devil is a paid assassin, bitch, drug dealer, gun dealer, anything you could imagine, as her name suggests, she's the devil, and she's not shy to say it, or show it. When the innocent girl asked her to commit murder for her, she was happy to take the job, even if the girl couldn't pay her, she'll take the girl as payment. Nicholas is a mafia boss, he's the leader of the local mafia, he deals in everything, and does everything you might imagine a mafia boss doing, that until he met two girls at the same time, a pyscho, and a little princess, and it was his lucky day when he knew they were in a relationship and agreed to allow him in with them. A princess, a psycho, and a Mafia king, what do they all have in common but love. Enjoy! Apologies for any misspellings and grammar mistakes.

“Who the hell typed this contract, Liam? I see typos.” “What typos? I wrote every damn word myself.” “Then you must’ve been typing while Evelyn was suck–” “Shut the fvck up, Olivia! Just sign it, or forget about ever seeing my babies again.” “They’re my babies too, you asshole! Would you sign if some psycho shoved this shitty contract in your face?” “Then don’t sign. Your loss. Get the fvck out of my office. Call me only after you sign, or you’ll regret it.” --- I thought giving birth would be the happiest day of my life. Instead, it became the day my whole world shattered. While I was still weak and bleeding in that hospital bed, my husband walked in… not with flowers, not with comfort, but with a hard blow to my stitches. That devil set a trap far worse than our marriage itself. And no matter how much I hated him… a part of me still burned whenever he touched me. Was this love, madness, or the devil’s contract I could never escape?

“We’re equals, remember? And you’re the king.” He pulled her onto his lap, his right hand gripping her thigh. Their faces were so close, Violet could see the flecks of gold lingering in his irises. “To me, you’re king, Violet Bellerose.” *** Violet Bellerose lives in a jealous, elven world where everyone from royals to bounty hunters are after her unique ability to amplify magic to incredible heights. When she saves the Storm King from an assassin, Violet earns a post at his side as bodyguard, unaware they have begun to unravel each other’s secrets. Forgotten lovers, turbulent powers, and a political marriage push and pull at king and bodyguard. Their bond must strengthen to withstand court rivalries and the enemies at their borders. With only each other to lean on, they face the Blood King together and labor through every obstacle to make it to their coronation. The Elf King and His Bodyguard is created by Hayden Marlowe, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

There are two options for you to choose from: One quit your surviving job and end up in the street Or Two be in a contractual relationship with your boss for a year. This is your choice to make. The gate of hell or the gate of your struggles paths. What are your choices? Ah Lam bit on her lower lips, she shouldn't have a bash in unexpectedly, she meant no harm or even have the time to discuss what she saw with others except her bestie. But now, it seems like the gates of hell opened up to her. She has always heard of her boss's cold attitude towards his employees of course to those in high posts, not a lower post she's in. never has she met him before, this has turned into one of her nightmares, she shouldn't have bought in the documents files. He gaped at her with those devilish cold eyes and chuckle like the devil himself. "So, what's your choice?" His deep cold voice asked.

Jenny posted a picture of me and her brother, who had an intellectual disability. The caption? "Finally, a happy ending!" The comments were all the same: "Is this your sister-in-law? She’s gorgeous!" I simply replied with a question mark, but Jenny ignored me and responded to someone else instead. "She's kinda my sister-in-law, yes!" It didn't take long for Steven to call me, his tone full of anger. "It was just a little edit, do you really have to blow things out of proportion?" Half an hour later, Jenny posted another photo of her sitting in Steven's luxury car, and even tagged me in it. "We may not be related by blood, but this big brother of mine has always been my rock!" Steven commented. "I'll always be here." I knew he was trying to get a rise on me on purpose to appease Jenny, but I didn't grace them with a reply this time. All I did was like the post and file for divorce.

On the night of my fifth wedding anniversary with Sebastian Gray, he lit up the entire city with fireworks for me. All our friends kept saying what a wonderful man he was—so loving, so romantic. The kind of husband every woman dreams of. At the grand finale, the fireworks burst into words that lit up the night sky: Happy Birthday, Jen. Jennifer Kingsley was Sebastian's first love, his ideal woman, the one who had always lingered in his heart. Sebastian looked at me, his expression almost sheepish. "Ah, it's Jen's birthday too. They must have mixed up the fireworks." That night, Jennifer posted on her social media: "Men are boys till the day they die, always fumbling their way through romance." She added a picture of the fireworks, along with a photo of her and Sebastian standing close under the dazzling display. I liked her post and left a comment: "From school to altar—what a touching love story. When's the wedding?"

I had just returned from a business trip. The moment I stepped through the door, I scooped my wife into my arms and rushed her straight to the bathroom for a steamy shower together. We were kissing passionately when, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something: the toilet seat was flipped up. I froze. Seven years ago, my wife had read a post online claiming that when men pee standing up, bacteria splash onto the seat. She begged me to sit down to pee for the sake of her health. I have kept that promise. For seven years of marriage, that seat has never been up. A knot formed in my stomach, but the bathroom was spotless, so clean it looked staged, not a single stray hair anywhere. Then I noticed the shower temperature. It was set five degrees lower than her usual 43°C. Men like cooler showers. Women like them hotter… At that moment, I knew, Ruby Lynch had cheated on me.

In my third month of employment, I realized that my colleagues were calling me an old geezer behind my back. This nickname came from Wanda Stewart’s arrogant and ambitious assistant. I had hit the age of 32, but was still clinging onto the last vestiges of hope of marriage after eight long years of our relationship. I asked Wanda, “Do you know that your subordinates call me an old geezer?” She said without batting an eyelid, “That’s just the way Samuel is. He’s just a straight-talker and he’s just kidding. You’re already 32, are you seriously fussing about this?” She then chuckled, “You two are really alike.” My heart turned cold. Turns out that eight years of my youth were nothing but a joke to her. I turned to leave, resigning from my post and blocking her. Yet, the woman who was always so calm and cool started panicking. “Jansen Graham, please come back to me.”