Rotten In The Core Lyrics Mga Nobela at Kwento

After our company's IPO approval is granted, my boyfriend, Derek Calloway, finally agrees to publicize our relationship at the celebratory banquet. Derek and I have been in a relationship for seven years. For so long, he refuses to make our relationship official. He always cites the fact that office romance is forbidden in the company, and that he, as the CEO, should follow through as a prime example. On the night of the banquet, I wait for the news to be broken with bated breath and unadulterated delight. But when Derek stands on the stage, he chooses to utter the name of the new recruit who has just joined the company for two months—Jocelyn Grant. "It's all thanks to Jocelyn's contributions to the project that our company gets to go public. She's the MVP of our company." I just stand beneath the stage, completely stunned. For a moment, I don't know how to react. I'm the main person in charge of that project, and I'm the one who's contributed the most to that project. Not only have I stayed up countless nights working hard on it, but I also got hospitalized a few times because of it. Soon, I receive Derek's text message. "Jocelyn has just joined this line of work. She needs a project to help spruce her resume up. Just let her receive the credits this once. "We'll discuss more on publicizing our relationship in the future." I can only grip my phone so tightly that my fingertips go white. Finally, I key in one word. "Okay." Jocelyn can have the project. She can also have my position as the director. Heck, she's free to have Derek, my now ex-boyfriend. I'd like to see how these assholes can pass the subsequent trials without me.

I thought he was a ghost from my past, but he came back with a marriage certificate and a billion‑dollar debt. He says I have to pay with my body—and my voice. “You’re in breach of contract, Mrs. Moretti.” Seven years ago, Dante Moretti was a broken sound engineer who broke my heart and vanished. Today, he’s the ruthless head of a global empire—and he just walked backstage to claim what’s his. Me. He brings a marriage certificate I don’t remember signing and a list of clauses that turn my world‑famous life into a gilded cage. He owns my label. He owns my jet. And he claims he owns my voice. Dragged to a fortress in Sicily, I’m trapped between a secret past I can’t outrun and a “husband” who looks at me with equal parts hunger and hate. Dante swears he’s the only thing standing between me and the monsters who want to buy my soul. But as the line between protection and possession blurs, I have to wonder: Is Dante Moretti saving me from the fire… or is he the one holding the match? He’s my greatest sin. My biggest secret. And now, he might be my only hope. ---

Quinn is everything I’ve ever wanted and never deserved. She’s the best friend, the best person, I’ve known in my entire life. Problem is, there’s always someone between us: Nate, our other friend. I know Quinn's heart is mine, but she cares for him, too. Oh, and then there’s my other love-football. With all of these obstacles, sometimes it feels like Quinn and I will never find our happy ending. But I’m not giving up on us. Contains sexual scenes and explicit content; recommended for those 18 and over.KEEPING SCORE is created by TAWDRA KANDLE, an eGlobal Creative Publishing Signed Author.

A month before the SATs, I, Jenny Reid, could see my score. Literally. It was just floating right above my head. But there was a catch. Every time I cracked open a prep book, my score would drop by ten points. But if I skipped a day of school? It jumped right back up by ten. So, I played the system. For a whole month, I barely lifted a finger. And on the day of the test, the number glowing over my head was a solid 1560. When the scores finally dropped online… I'd scored a 500. And the 1560? That was my little sister Patricia's score. My parents lost it. As punishment, they got me a grueling night-shift job at a local electronics factory. That first night, a bunch of guys I'd never seen before cornered me in the parking lot and beat me half to death. Fading in and out of consciousness, I heard my sister's voice right by my ear. "You just had to one-up me, didn't you? Thought you were so smart… but you never figured out I was the one controlling that number over your head." The truth hit me like a physical blow. The score had been her trick all along. I opened my eyes—and I was back. One month before the SATs. The number above my head read exactly 1300. "Hey," my sister said, all fake sweetness. "Want to study together tonight? We can go over the practice tests." I looked at the stack of papers in my own hands. Without a word, I pulled out my lighter and set them on fire right there in the driveway. "Exams are coming," I said, watching the flames. "I'm not studying." My score ticked up to 1310. My sister's face was this perfect mask of disappointment, but the second I turned away, I caught the sly smile she couldn't quite hide. She had no idea… the real performance, the one I'd been rehearsing just for her, was finally about to begin.

I am about to book a room at a hotel owned by Luca Conti, a consigliere under my command, when a sharp voice suddenly cuts in from behind me. "Aspetta. That's not your price." I turn around. A woman wearing a manager's badge stands there with her arms crossed, scrutinizing me as if I am an unsightly stain she can't wait to wipe away. "We don't allow prostitution here," she says coolly. "If you're receiving clients, there will be a fine." As she speaks, she hands me a penalty notice. The charges are clearly listed on the paper. "Illegal guest reception fee: 350 thousand dollars. "Special soundproofing fee: 150 thousand dollars. "Special cleaning fee: 100 thousand dollars. "Total fee: 600 thousand dollars." Receiving clients? I have simply come straight from a Mafia cocktail party without changing clothes—that's all. What exactly does she take me for?" I lift my gaze and answer evenly, "You're mistaken. I am not that kind of person. You can contact the hotel owner, Luca Conti, and ask him who I am." A sneer flickers through Sofia Rossi's eyes. She spits to the side, full of contempt. "Still claiming you are not a puttana? Women like you come here every week. Every single one of them swears she knows him. "Our boss is the consigliere to the Russo family, the most powerful Mafia family in Seneriffe. Do you really think he needs someone cheap like you? "I suggest you pay up now, subito, before your client loses patience and drags you into the street and rapes you." I do not waste another word on her. I take out my phone and send a message directly to my secretary, Marco Bianchi. "Notify Luca. Either this manager, Sofia Rossi, disappears from this city, or he does."

When NHL superstar Thane Slade suffers a brutal fall during the Stanley Cup Finals, he doesn’t just lose his career—he loses his name, his future, and the life he thought was untouchable. Then Madison Wallace walks into his hospital room. A quiet nurse with storms behind her eyes, Madison is undocumented, out of options, and hiding wounds deeper than the ones she’s paid to heal. She’s not supposed to get attached—even if she’s been his biggest fan. And he’s not supposed to care—not for anyone, especially not her. But somewhere between the silence and the scars, something dangerous blooms. Something real. Her secret could get her deported. His could destroy them both. And when love grows where lies once stood, one mistake shatters everything. By the time Thane learns the truth… Madison is gone.

I'm on track to be a top student, but I end up taking the SAT twice. The first time, I score high enough to get into Westbridge University. The second time, my score qualifies me for Northfield University. Each time, I score over 1500. Yet when the admissions teams see my name, not a single school admits me. At first, I think it must be some kind of background check, certain they've found something in my record. But my parents are honest, hardworking people. They've never broken the law. They wouldn't even harm a fly. So I try a third time. My SAT score is 1580, and my GPA is still perfect. This time, I apply to Crestwood University, thinking I finally have it in the bag. The Crestwood University admissions officer arrives full of cheer, but the moment he sees my name, he freezes, immediately realizing there is no way I will be accepted. I rack my brain, trying to figure out what is wrong with my name. Why does seeing it make every school hesitate, even though my scores are perfect?

I forgot to bring a No. 2 pencil, so I filled out my SAT exam with a red pen. The proctor warned me it would count as cheating, and I just shrugged and told him it didn't matter. Tyson Jenkins, the school heartthrob who ranked near the bottom of the class, suddenly got anxious. In my last life, we went back to school to pick up our acceptance letters. I already had a guaranteed spot at Kingsford University. And yet, I was the only one who didn't receive a letter. Tyson had used a system to swap our exam scores. Because my score showed up as zero, Kingsford University revoked my guaranteed admission. I demanded a review of the scoring, but Tyson, who had suddenly become the top scorer out of nowhere, sneered at me. "Kieran, couldn't cheat your way through the exam this time, huh? Everyone knows you only got that guaranteed spot by cheating. You've got some nerve playing the victim!" I went to our homeroom teacher to clear my name. I never expected her to cry on camera and say, "I tried to talk Kieran out of it in private. It's not fair to the other students if he does something like that, but he used his family's influence to pressure me into staying out of it." Overnight, I was at the center of a storm. Before I could even explain, a group of fanatics dragged me up to the roof and shoved me off. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day before the exam.

On the day I'm supposed to pick up my bride for the wedding, Tracie Mayer, my supposed wife-to-be as well as the heiress of the Mayer family, is replaced by Jayne Cooper, a widowed fishmonger. Everyone in the groom's party laughs and makes fun of me. "Since when are you this thirsty? You don't mind women who have already given birth before, huh?" "I can't believe the heir of the Reeve family is about to marry a widowed fishmonger! Everyone's going to be tickled pink once word gets out!" My family driver's son, Everett Huffman, provokes me on the spot. "This is for treating me like a lowly servant and ordering me to drive you around! That's why Adeline and Tracie decided to avenge me on your big day!" Realization dawns on me immediately. My older sister, Adeline Reeve, and Tracie are standing up for Everett by putting me down. As I turn to stare at Adeline with red-rimmed eyes, she replies nonchalantly, "It's just a wedding ceremony. Endure it like a tough guy you are. "You and Tracie will still get married. We won't let you marry a widowed fishmonger for real."

The mock exam just finished. A beggar outside the school gate pointed right at me and said, "Zero points." I laughed. "The score for the top scorer in the college entrance exam always shows up as zero. Thanks for the blessing, I guess." The beggar gave me a meaningful look. "The top scorer in the college entrance exam will be your best friend. You'll actually get zero points." I just laughed. There was no way the school's top student would get zero points. As I was about to walk off, he pointed at my bracelet. "Score-Switching Bracelet. When she hands in a blank paper, you'll get zero points." I was taken aback. My bestie did give me this matching bracelet recently. I thought it would be a pain to wear because it would be uncomfortable when I write, but she insisted I put it on. I tried taking it off a few times but couldn't. Recently, my grades had indeed slipped, while my bestie's scores had consistently ranked first three times in a row... "What should I do then?" "Transfer it to a close family member. They can bear the misfortune for you." The beggar pointed at the boy coming to pick me up. "Like him." I turned around. Standing not far away, waiting for me, was my childhood friend.