Right In Two Lyrics

Padgett Ryan, had a big crush on her childhood best friend, her mother's former boss' son Cameron Adrian, for as long as she could remember but was too scared to admit it, at age thirteen she had to leave with her mother when she got a new job, she was grateful to that but then fate play a fast one on them, bringing them together, he is no longer the innocent, decent boy but a complete playboy. She knows better than to get into a relationship, with a playboy and a boy from a different world but what happens when they kiss on one drunk night of his?

Sometimes we try too hard and forget that destinies have already been written. how strong is Destiny, can we fight it?

At twenty-eight, I held the dubious honor of being the last unmarried socialite on New York's Upper East Side. Everyone around me was growing increasingly anxious about my single status. In my previous life, my mother arranged a matchmaking cocktail party, where I was told to choose a husband from ten handpicked elite bachelors. I bribed the event planner to place Mark West's profile at the very top—and as I had hoped, I chose him. After we married, Mark treated me with what seemed like tender affection. He even bought me an oceanfront villa in the Hamptons, making me believe I had finally found true love. But that illusion shattered the day I was nine months pregnant, just hours away from giving birth. Mark drove a scalpel straight into my abdomen—then, right in front of me, hurled our newborn onto the floor. "If you hadn't forced me into this marriage with your family's power, Sofia wouldn't have been heartbroken enough to go drinking and get drugged and assaulted. This… this is what you owe her!" He tossed the scalpel aside, then calmly let his private doctor pin down my blood-soaked body. I fought through excruciating pain for six agonizing hours, until I finally bled to death. Afterward, Mark dumped my corpse into the Hudson River. But for Sofia, he hosted a grand funeral—funded with my money, under my name—and paraded himself to the world as a grieving, devoted widower. Given a second chance at life, I refused to step foot in that cursed matchmaking event. Instead, I went straight to my mother with a demand: marry me to Robert Black—the most ruthless, cold-blooded titan of Wall Street, whose scarred face was feared by all. In the end, stripped of my financial backing, Mark's hedge fund collapsed. He became a disgraced fraudster, spat on by everyone on Wall Street.

Second in series. Catch up with Delilah and Knox as they embark on parenthood. Gabriel and Manuel are pack warriors and meet their fated mates Esme and Lola on a night out, yet true to form things don't go quite to plan...... Esme and Lola are both from an unconventional pack that has unusual views on mates and restricts the rights of women. Esme already had to fight to be given permission to go to University, will she be willing to give that all up for her mate? While Lola has some adjusting to a new way of life to get used to..... Can the two warriors battle for their happy ever afters they are so desperately seeking?

How rich can a person be? My wife is incredibly rich. People call her "The Queen of Cloudridge" because nearly half the city's properties are owned by her. We've been married for five years, and every time she goes out to meet her first love, she transfers a property to my name. By the time I have 99 homes in my name, she suddenly notices that something has changed. I no longer cry, beg, or ask her to stay. I simply choose the finest mansion in all of Cloudridge, bring the property deed with me, and wait for her to sign it. She signs the papers, and for the first time, she softens. "When I get back, let's go watch the fireworks together." I quietly tuck the agreement away and hum in response. But I never tell her what she's really signed this time. It's not a property deed. It's our divorce agreement.

Shock, cold and absolute, rippled through me. My jaw dropped. “Owned? I am not an object! You can’t just—” His dark chuckle cut me off. It was a chilling sound, devoid of warmth. “Oh, but I do, little bird. You became mine the moment your dear brother, Carlos, sold you to clear his debts. Along with almost all the shares in your father’s company.” The air left my lungs in a ragged gasp. What was he talking about? That couldn't be true, yet the look in his eyes said otherwise. He had sold me like an object, like chattel. Rage, raw and unadulterated, surged through me, eclipsing the fear for a fleeting moment. I tried to push past him, to escape and to run anywhere but his hand shot out, grabbing me by the neck, not quite choking but enough to hold me in an iron grip. He pinned me to the wall, his face inches from mine, his eyes burning with an intense possessive fire. “You now belong to Lorenzo Blackwood,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You are mine. To possess. To claim. To own.”

ARYAN "Uh, now that I can't do." I smirked, lifting the picture of my future wife. Wife. I cringed at that word. I would'nt dare deny that she was attractive. But I would need more than those damn enticing dark blue eyes, dark black sex hair and a heart dropping smile. MEERA "Arranged marriages are so sick. How can you get married to a guy you have never me before? For all I know he could look like a military horse." I snickered at my thoughts.

Tamara Winslow stands amid the crowd while clutching two different documents in her hand. One of them shows a diagnosis report on her alexithymia, while the other showcases a divorce agreement. Three hours ago, she had specifically visited the Clerk's Office because the hospital's system had shown her marital status as "divorced". The city clerk looks up at her. "Ma'am, it's true that you and Mr. Braxton Merrick got divorced three years ago." Tamara's expression freezes on her face. "How could that be? We got married three years ago!" The city clerk checks the details once again. This time, he adapts a rather awkward tone. "The results are correct. It's true that you got divorced three years ago. In fact, it took place… on the seventh second right after you got married…"

How far can you go for love? Emory Meredith Grant grew up living a luxurious life and can buy everything she wants. Loved a man who was not fit and had nothing to be proud of in life. But she still wanted to be with the man she loved. It requires nothing more than to live with Hezekiah, but destiny is playful when their relationship is tested. The ship they were in sank due to a strong storm. Unfortunately, she was separated from her husband and never saw him again. It was as if heaven and earth fell upon her because of the tragedy. She woke up one day and he was no longer beside her and would never return. Despite everything, she still hopes to see him alive and would return. But what if one day he sees him alive? But the painful part is, he can no longer recognize her, and worst of all, his husband is already married to someone else. How will she win him back? Does she need to claim her real husband or does she need to play the role of a mistress? Emory Meredith Grant. A multi-billionaire businesswoman. The heiress. The wife and the mistress.

When Yelton Group tanked, their CEO and his wife showed up at our door, begging for a marriage alliance. My dad, thinking I was still head-over-heels for Rosie after ten freaking years, threw a million into their sinking ship and signed me up to marry Rosie. Wedding night? She blindfolded me and kept whispering how bad she wanted it. A month later, I tested positive for an STD. Then I caught her bragging to her friends. "Quinn got wrecked by, like, a dozen girls," she laughed. "Wanna guess who gave him the infection?" Her friends were cracking up. "I scouted all the grossest red-light spots," one said. "Each one's got a different flavor." "Just wait," another giggled. "When the symptoms hit hard, we'll know who wins." Rosie added, "Prize money's ready. Soon as we figure it out, she gets paid." That's when it hit me. It wasn't Rosie in bed that night—it was a lineup of strangers she set up. I lost it. Went straight to her, demanded answers. She didn't even flinch. "Mad? Please. If you hadn't dangled that million to force me into this marriage—or scared Caleb off—do you think I'd waste my time on you? "Once Caleb forgives me, you're done." I asked for a divorce. She locked me in the basement. "Chill," she said. "We're still placing bets on who gave you the STD." Six months later, I died down there. Just rotted away. Then I woke up—right back on the day her parents came begging for that deal. Only this time, on the wedding day? She was the one crying.