Said Synonym List

“Please, don't kill me…. Please.." she pleaded, trying to grasp fragments of her breath as she stared at the lifeless body and pool of blood before her in fright. "Jason, she might be a good toy for the night, what do you think?" One of the men asked his colleague, stretching strands of his beards. "You must be insane. Have you forgotten the mission statement?" Jason asked and he scratched his head. "Pretty girl, I'm sorry" he said, squatting to the level of the girl who trembled on the floor. "Anyone who sees the hit, goes down with the target" one of them said coldly from behind and the next moment, a bullet hole was formed between her brows as her body convulsed.

"I want the entire show" he said, looking her in the eye. "I beg your pardon?" She asked, frowning in confusion, straightening on her chair. "I want the entire fucking show, get your information from me, talk to me, seduce me, sleep with me if you have to. I want to see how you work" he said, crossing his arms over his chest "only then would I decide whether or not to keep you in the job" *********************** When Aurora is assigned to work for her Don and Alpha's son, complications happen. The new Capo Dei Capi, Alpha Dante puts her up for a challenge. She is to impress HIM and get the information that she and his father were looking for.

I was bleeding out in a corner after a hit from a rival family. My husband, Dante—the Torrino family’s underboss—was in his car, holding his best friend's little sister. He gave me one cold look and said, "Leave her. She's a nobody." Later, after someone else saved me, I walked home, soaked in my own blood. I found Dante cradling Seraphina, fussing over her. All she had was a scraped knee. The blood covering my clothes? He didn't even see it. I just watched. Said nothing. Then I pulled out my phone and called my mother. "Mom, I need to come home."

I cleared my throat and picked up the menu, pretending to study it. “So,” I said after a moment, “before we start pretending this is something serious, you should know… I’m not exactly the settling-down type.” He arched his brow but said nothing. “I do hookups,” I continued, keeping my tone casual. “That night at the hotel? I was supposed to meet someone else. I went into the wrong room. You were literally a mistake.” He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. Just smirked faintly and reached for his glass of whisky, taking a slow sip. My fake confidence wavered. “Did you hear what I said?” “Every word,” he said quietly. “And?” “And I’m still here.” I stared at him with disbelief. “Wow. You’re not even mad? You’re supposed to call off the wedding and storm out or something.” He chuckled in a low tone, resting his elbow on the table. “You’re really trying hard to get rid of me, aren’t you?” ******* I caught my fiancé cheating with the woman he called his “sister.” Broken, drunk, and reckless, I stumbled into the wrong hotel room, and into the arms of a stranger. By morning, he was gone, leaving only a note: Wrong room, but you taste good. I wanted to forget him. Weeks later, my best friend begged me to meet the man her father had arranged for her to marry and make him call off the wedding. I went there in her place, only to discover he was the same man from that night. He called off the wedding with her. Then he asked me to marry him, but I refused. But refusing a billionaire with an obsession is never that simple… especially when he shows up as my new boss.

"Ms. Harris, you're already six months pregnant. The baby is fully formed... Are you sure you want to go through with the abortion? The hospital strongly advises against it." The doctor said hesitatingly. Phoebe Harris instinctively placed a hand over her swollen belly. Six months. The child had grown inside her, from something no bigger than a grain of rice to the size it was now. They say a mother and her child share an unspoken bond, and she could feel it too. If she weren't utterly broken inside, what mother would ever have the heart to give up her baby who was about to enter the world? After a silence that seemed to stretch on forever, Phoebe took a deep breath. Then, with a resolve that left no room for doubt, she said, "I'm sure."

“I can’t choose.” I whispered. I couldn’t pick between them. It was what they wanted, it was what anyone would have expected me to do but looking at all three men, having spent the past three weeks with each one of them, I realised that I couldn’t pick one above the other. I couldn’t do it. “I want you, and you, and you.” I said, pointing to each one of them. “Then you don’t have to choose. You can have us all.” Kellian said and the other two nodded. They never agreed on anything but this one time, they finally agreed. It was unconventional, unheard of but surely the best thing was to follow what my heart and my body wanted and I wanted my three alphas.

A story about a ruthless rogue and his human slave. "Y-You said I am j-just a slave." She finally let out staring at him through her teary gaze. But the ruthless beast infront of her just smirked at her. "Yes you are. My Slave. And you will do as I say." She shook her head taking a step back making him glare at her. "So you wouldn't listen huh." She gulped clutching her clothes. "Obey your master Slave!" She flinched hearing a low growl from him. When she didn't make a move he slapped the sofa's arms standing up from it glaring at her. "Don't make me repeat Slave! I SAID STRIP!"

Gautham bend down to bury his head on Sindhu's shoulders and said, " Will you say 'Yes' already!" What surprised Sindhu was the tinch of desperation in his voice. How did Gautham end up feeling so much for her in a matter of a month??? Even Gautham did not know how desperate he was to make her his. Just now when he saw Sindhu make such adorable face, he felt something break inside him at the thought that she will be showing such faces to someone else if she ended up marrying someone else. "Its driving me crazy you know. The things that you are making me feel.", Gautham said with a slightly annoyed voice. Sindhu did not say anything. She just tightened her hold around him and stayed in his embrace. After a while, Gautham finally let her go. He took one last look at her face, quickly said his bye and left. He feared if he stayed any longer, he would start begging her. There is no backstabbing ex or a greedy relative or a dark haunting past. This is a pleasant light love story of two people facing arranged marriage. A slightly messed up wild woman and a very normal clumsy man.

Everyone in the social circle of Kingsford said I was nothing more than a lapdog raised by Charles Mankin. I was always at his beck and call. I did every filthy, ludicrous thing for him under the sun. When he street raced, I rode shotgun. When he drank himself senseless, I made him hangover soup. When he chased girls, I prepared protection for them. Over time, everyone knew: Charles had a dog who never ran, never bit back, no matter how hard he kicked. They all said I must be madly in love with him. Even Charles started to believe it. So he pushed further, more freely, more cruelly, crossing lines as if they never existed. Then came my twenty-fifth birthday. He, in a rare stroke of mercy, said he'd celebrate it with me. But instead, what he got was the news that I was leaving the country. He went berserk, charging through the airport like a man possessed. I peeled his fingers off my wrist one by one, smiling like I'd never been happier. "Don't be stupid," I told him, still smiling. "That was never love." That night, Charles smashed apart his family home like a rabid dog.

There's this unspoken rule in werewolf high society: no matter how tight the mate bond is, business banquets mean booking a hostess. Six years into our bond, my Alpha mate—Brian Stormclaw—met one. Louise. A scrappy Omega with too much pride and not enough sense. When he offered her his black card, she pushed it back and said, "I'm not some Alpha's pampered pet." Brian? Instantly hooked. Like the Moon Goddess herself had dropped her in his lap. He chased her like he wanted her mark on every pack crest. But he forgot something—I was the Luna he wrote ninety-nine love letters to before I said yes. I didn't beg. Didn't snap. Every time he chose her over me, I lit another letter. First one burned on our anniversary—he bailed to wait outside Louise's flower shop, just to walk her home. Letter thirty-four? He left me stranded in a dangerous hunting ground to keep her company. Said she was scared of the dark. Fifty-two? Torched the second he replaced our wedding photo with some sketch she made on. ... And when the ninety-ninth turned to ash, so did whatever was left of us. I walked away. For good.