Round Foldable Dining Table

After Celine Anderson let her newly-promoted assistant take credit for my billion-dollar project for the ninth time, I handed in my resignation letter. I also refused to show up in the same place as her. Whenever she was interviewed by talk shows as a public figure, I would switch off all the screens in the building. I also got the security guard to stop her from entering even if she brought me a cup of coffee in the middle of a tornado. To see me, she purposely rescheduled three virtual meetings with foreign companies. So, I immediately bought air tickets to leave the country. I blocked her everywhere and formatted the hard disk that contained all of our memories from the past decade. When I was twenty, I studied with her in the university library. When I was twenty-five, I ate the cheapest bread with her when she first started her company. When I was thirty, I finally knew how to let go of things that no longer serve me. On the ninth time I was accused of sleeping my way up, I came across a photo of her and her assistant kissing. Meanwhile, I was sitting at our dining table with food that had turned cold. It turned out that our decade-long relationship had been a joke. However, it was fine. It was not too late to come to my senses.

Even after more than three years of marriage, Samuel Ferguson still seemed impossible to satisfy. After the third round, he brushed a tear from the corner of Tania Russell's eye, a roguish smile playing at his lips. "Did you cry from the pleasure? Want me to carry you to the shower?" Tania turned her head, avoiding him, her fingers digging into the sheets until her knuckles went white. Steam rolled through the bathroom, wrapping a set of broad shoulders and a narrow waist in a haze of heat — but that heat could not thaw the icy chill in her heart. An hour ago, in the throes of passion, the name "Lulu" had slipped from his lips, and it still lingered in her mind. All those years, he had always called her simply "Tania." After a moment, she wiped her tears, reached for the phone on the bedside table, and stepped out onto the balcony. "Elias, investigate Samuel for me. I think… he's cheating." "A lead?" Elias did not waste time. "He used to call her 'Lulu'".

My dad is a fan of tough love parenting. When I was a kid, there was a time when I obtained full marks on two subjects. But he told me, "Your grades don't mean anything in life. If you were a true man, you'd leap down five floors without batting an eyelash." Some time later, I was awarded for my act of bravery. But Dad scoffed in my face. "Not even a hair is harmed on your head. Why should you be awarded anyway?" I thought Dad wanted me to go through more training in life. On Christmas Eve, he ditched me on a snowy mountain under the guise of wanting me to go through more training. He didn't give me a tent or a lighter. Later on, Dad even brags about his parenting method to his relatives and friends. "A real man should survive and thrive in a desperate situation! I told Julian that he can forget about being my son if he can't even make his way back to the summit!" But the red dot on the GPS tracker installed in his phone hasn't moved for the past three hours. The truth is, I've already frozen to death in the mountains. Trapped in my fist is a scrap of paper detailing the SOS number that Dad had torn apart earlier. Meanwhile, my soul is currently floating above the dining table while watching Dad brag about his tough love parenting.

When my husband and I drop by his childhood home for Christmas dinner, my mother-in-law, Melissa Potter, is the only one busying away in the kitchen. Everyone else is on their phones. I've just taken a seat when Melissa begins to lecture me. "What, are you just going to sit your ass down and wait for food to come? Don't you know when to lend a helping hand? Am I supposed to exhaust myself for your sake?" From time to time, she keeps rattling the pots and pans loudly. "I can't believe those with healthy bodies want a 70-year-old like me to serve them! Does anyone here have any conscience?" Feeling a little uneasy, I gave my husband a tiny nudge. "Why don't you help Mom out?" After Melissa hears my suggestion, she gets even more pissed off. Thinking that this is my first Christmas with my in-laws, I don't really want to cause a scene here, so I get up to my feet and help her out. But the moment I enter the kitchen, Melissa delegates all the tasks to me. I endure my fury as much as I can while finishing the Christmas dinner preparations. When I'm about to head back to the dining table and dig in, Melissa suddenly speaks up. "Hold up. We got scores to settle before dinner."

"Thirty million" I heard a male voice echo round the walls of the hall which silenced everyone. Who would bid that high just to buy me? "Thirty million dollars" the male voice spoke up once again, a young man striding confidently forward like he owned the very building with his bidding card raised up. He was eighty percent taller than everyone in attendance. I sucked in breath at his refined but cold appearance. His tuxedo hugged his body and showed of his impeccable muscles. His dark long hair was slick and let to fall, not a single strand out of place. He had the profile of a greek God but his features lacked warmth and empathy. His brown steel eyes burrowed into mine, a look of disgust on his face for me. "Sold!" the chairman hit the gavel on the table after a brief moment of silence since no one else was willing to bid higher. A wave of ovation took the hall, men chattering amongst themselves and whistling. "Get her ready and bring her to me" he pivoted and sharply ordered one of the armed bodyguards standing close to the podium. He owns me now. **** When a ruthless mafia lord bids for an innocent girl, can her innocense survive in the abyss of his darkness?

“Can I know why I have been kidnapped, sir ?” She questioned in a low, but daring voice. “First of all, you weren’t kidnapped. You were sold off, so it’s merely a transaction.” He replied to her, standing from his seat to lean on his table. Drey’s sexual tension skyrocketed up in the air, and he almost couldn’t control himself at that moment. In his mind, he was groping her and having another round of hot sex right there on his work table, however, he was determined to make her life miserable for having the audacity to forget him and the amazing night they had just shared. He leaned further, and missed her lips by an inch going straight to her ears to whisper “Welcome to your worst nightmare.” The whisper sent shivers down Marie’s spines and her stomach churned from the proximity between her and the piece of art in front of her, and his strong thick voice resounding in her ears. After a one-night stand with the biggest Mafia boss in the state, unknowing Marie gets sold off to that same Mafia empire, and her once quiet life gets shaken up by a smoking hot man, violence, drugs and a surprise baby.

Short terrifying stories that leave you insomnolent. . . definitely a must read. A family was given a gift of a huge cactus. They gave it a place of honour in the dining room,and soon noticed a strange phenomenon-it appeared to be breathing! In and out,in and out,ever so slightly the sides of the huge plant were moving. The mother decided . . . OPEN TO FIND OUT THE REST!!

I rented a house with a bloody history because it was cheap. On the first night after moving in, the faucet turned on by itself. I yelled into thin air, “Are you paying the water bill?!” The water instantly stopped flowing. I thought that was just the beginning of the ghost not bothering me. Unexpectedly, the next day, I saw a main course with two side dishes prepared on the dining table.

Today was supposed to be my sister's wedding day. Instead, I'm the one walking down the aisle. The man waiting for me is a billionaire tycoon, cold, untouchable, and infamous for crushing anyone who stands in his way. Power bends to his will, money erases his mistakes, and emotions are a weakness he never allows himself to feel. I was never meant to marry him. I'm only here because my sister ran away… and if he discovers I'm a substitute bride, my family will be ruined overnight. So when the officiant asks if I accept him, my lips tremble as I whisper, "I do." His gaze locks onto mine, dark and possessive. "You're mine now, kitten," he murmurs, as if sealing my fate. The nightmare begins that moment. I manage to escape his bed on our wedding night, hiding behind excuses and fragile lies. But the days that follow terrify me more. The walk-in closet is filled with clothes in my sister's favorite colors. The dining table overflows with dishes she loved. He researched her. Memorized her. Or so I thought. Then he slides a peanut butter bagel toward me, my sister's favorite. I'm allergic. I glance up, my pulse roaring in my ears, only to find his expression unreadable. Calculating. Watching. Has he already realized I'm not the woman he married? And if this ruthless billionaire uncovers the truth… will he destroy me? Because marrying him was never part of my future, and falling for him might be the most dangerous mistake of all.

"Shut down for rectification, fined $500,000, plus $300 compensation per customer. That’s the penalty from the Food Safety Bureau. Let’s see if you dare serve us gutter oil again!” Yves Larson, a part-timer at a construction site, sends me a provocative text purposefully, as though he's worried that I don't know what's going on. I just stare at the sign that says "closed for renovation", which is hung on the front door of my eatery. Never would I expect that the budget eatery that I've opened for the sake of the workers will be transformed into a blade that's aimed at me, thanks to the very same workers. That night, I sit in the apartment that my dad has left to me before his death. There, I spend the whole night smoking. Early the next morning, I head over to the bank and withdraw the money left behind by my dad, which is 260 million dollars. Half a month later, my eatery is open for business again. Work resumes at the construction site as well. Yves leads the construction workers to the restaurant at lunch. "I've taught him a good lesson last time. This time, I'm very sure that he won't have the guts to serve us cheap food made of shitty ingredients!" What he doesn't know is that the original eatery is already demolished. In its place stands a luxurious five-star restaurant. I stand in front of the main entrance as I perform a welcoming gesture to the workers. "This is a five-star restaurant that offers a private dining experience to you. The minimum bill for each table is 4000 dollars. You're welcome to dine here."