Runic Tablet Simply Swords

How rich could a person get? My husband was extremely wealthy. The world knew him as Yvan Ellison, the person who owned nearly half of Ember City's real estate. In the five years of our marriage, he would transfer a property to my name whenever he went out for a rendezvous with his true love. By the time I owned ninety-nine properties, he suddenly realized that I had changed. I no longer cried or caused a scene. I did not beg him to stay home. I simply chose the best villa in Ember City, held the property transfer agreement in my hands, and waited for him to sign. When he finally did, he showed the first hint of softness in years. "When I get back, I'll take you to see the fireworks." I obediently put the agreement away and gave a soft hum. I just did not tell him that this time, the document he signed… was our divorce papers.

I was in a temporary shock from an allergic reaction. The two guys I had grown up with didn't even look my way. One of them was busy helping Vivian Byrd carry a pile of gifts, while the other was snapping pictures of her at some popular social media spot. It was a stranger passing by who called an ambulance and got me to the hospital, saving my life. The next day, Vivian called, her tone almost smug. "Trish, Zeke and Hendrick were so exhausted after shopping with me yesterday. I heard you threw a tantrum and ended up in the hospital. Should I come visit you?" I simply replied, "No need." Zeke Benson and Hendrick Peay were my childhood friends. They once treated me like I was everything to them—promising to pluck the moon and stars from the sky and to protect me forever. But ever since Vivian came into the picture, their world no longer revolved around me. I thought for a moment and then dialed my mother's number. "Mom, I'll accept the marriage arrangement."

The day I signed the divorce papers, I voluntarily gave up custody of my daughter. Because that day, in the courtroom, she clung to her father’s neck, sobbing with all the fury a six-year-old could muster: “You don’t even love me… do you? If you leave Daddy, I’ll stay with him… and you’ll be all alone forever!” In my past life, I had ignored her childish threats. I fought tooth and nail for her custody. I poured every ounce of myself into raising her. And yet… she spent her entire life hating me. Not once did she ever call me “Mom” until the day I died. On her wedding day, she even invited her father’s mistress to the stage to give a speech of thanks. Now, opening my eyes again, seeing that same cruel little face staring back at me, I simply nodded. “I don’t care.” After all… I never wanted a daughter like her anyway.

Brilliant Manhattan attorney Michael Rannigan has his life arranged exactly the way he likes it. As a founding partner at the law firm of Murphy, Rannigan, & Metheny, he can let his underlings do the legwork on the high profile defense cases his exclusive 50th floor division handles. He prefers to simply breeze in and do what he does best: dazzle juries and charm the press.Michael hires new lawyer Maggie Flynn and has her assigned to his elite 50th floor team. He knows smart when he sees it. He also sees the spark in her eyes. She wants him. And having her nearby strokes his ego. It’s not like anything will come of it, she’s so far from his type. But there’s something unsettling about Mary Margaret Flynn.Maggie realizes that her crush on Michael is all but hopeless. What would happen if they ever crossed that line?Sex scenes/explicit content, Suggest age range 18+Rannigan’s Redemption is by Pandora Spocks, an eGlobal Creative Publishing Signed Author.

Synopsis : Bedroom, washroom, living room, office, elevator, there wasn't any place left where they didn't make out. However, everytime she did that* with him, she felt guilty, disgusted as the person was her sister's husband. She tried hard to avoid him, but he didn't let her escape from him. It wasn't she who wanted to cheat her sister by making out with her husband, it was he who continuously forced him on her and she simply couldn't resist him. This story is about Dimple who was having sex everyday and night with her own sister's husband, and her sister, Twinkle was completely unaware of her husband and sister's betrayal. Read the story to know what will happen when Twinkle finds about her husband and Dimple's sin.. How will she react? More importantly how will Dimple face her own sister? So, at last who will ends up with the playboy Arav singhaniya, who was messing up with these sisters, marrying to one sister, and having relationship with another?

My husband, Gavin Chapman, is giving his secretary, Natasha Gardner, exactly what she wants. He's making her his wife. To pull it off, he fakes a lab accident, pretends to have amnesia, and brings her home. In his office, Gavin wraps his arms around Natasha and murmurs indulgently, "Not just Mrs. Chapman. Even if you want to pretend to be the vice president for a week, I'll let you." My eyes dim, but I let the lie go on. The next day, at a press conference, Gavin holds Natasha's hand and tells the world she's his real wife. He even threatens to kick me out of the company and take over all my research data. Dozens of cameras swivel toward me, waiting for my outburst. But I stay silent and simply sign the termination papers. Gavin doesn't know that the pharmaceutical project he believes will be done in seven days isn't quite finished. There's still one final step, and I'm the only one who knows how to do it.

One day, after getting rear-ended outside my office, I, Maeve Dahlman, call out for help, but Austin Cooper, who is simply passing by with Carmen Holt, merely glances at me impatiently, annoyed that I've disrupted their lunch plans. Instead of helping, he has his assistant take me to his private club and lock me in a room, accusing me of being paranoid and dramatic. "I'll give you three days to calm down," he says before walking away and leaving me in isolation. Eventually, I escape and call the police. An ambulance rushes me to the hospital, where doctors diagnose me with a brain injury that requires immediate surgery. I keep calling Austin, only to realize that he has blocked my number. Then, I see Carmen's latest post online, gushing about a romantic luxurious dinner with him. After I'm discharged, I cancel the wedding, destroy all the invitations, and finally call my mother. "Mom," I say, "I've made up my mind. I'm ready to meet him."

“Strip.” He ordered simply, his eyes boring tentatively, “I'll not give you the liberty of picking up your clothes if you will not do as you're told.” “You married me to get revenge on me!” I spat, angrily. “You are not supposed to have any carnal knowledge of me, I won't let it happen.” He smiled. The same smile that cuts across his lips yet doesn't reach his face. “You want me to have sex with you?” “Isn't that what you mean by stripping?” I asked, confusion boldly written on my face. A loud, dry mocking laugh from him almost made me wish for death. “No wife.” He whispered, standing up from the bed towards me. “I don't want to see any of my properties on you in my house, I want you tattered and extremely void, I want to see what you will do when you're all bare before me.” I stumbled backwards at the hatred in his voice. “I want to see you at your lowest, Now strip!”

When the news of my death on the battlefield, pinned to the pack's watchtower by silver arrows, reached my pack, my Alpha mate, Killian, simply laughed. He thought I was just jealous he was going to claim the Rogue, that I was faking my own death just to get his attention. "I was just trying to bring Valerie into the pack, and this is how she threatens me? With her own death?" "I left her with my most elite warriors. How could she possibly be dead!" "Tell her to get back here. I will claim Valerie, but after that, the title of Luna is still hers." Seven days later, he appeared before my family's home, carrying the ceremonial Luna circlet. He saw me in my white ceremonial dress, resting quietly beneath the white birch tree in the garden, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "I knew it. You were just giving me the silent treatment again." But in the next second, a pack elder's voice thundered: "Prepare the funeral pyre. Let us pay our final respects to our fallen warrior, Sloane!"

On the very night Finn Chapman's first love got divorced, he threw the ninety-ninth divorce agreement at me. "Lisa's heart is broken. She can't move on. I have to take care of her," he said. Even our seven-year-old son tried to persuade me. "You should just agree to the divorce and leave," he told me. "Let Lisa move in. We don't need a maid like you anymore." Both father and son were certain I'd scream, cry, beg them not to throw me out. But I didn't. I simply nodded, quietly signed my name on the divorce papers, and left. Ten years later, my son became the top scorer on the SATs. During an interview, a reporter asked him, "What has motivated you to study so hard all these years?" He went silent for a moment. Then, in front of everyone, his eyes turned red. "Because I wanted to tell my mom," he said, voice trembling, "I've grown up now. Will you come back? Please don't leave me again."