Saint Augustine Philosophy

I’ve always felt like Travis Chancer was forced to marry me. Every time we were intimate at night, he’d rather use his hand to get me off than actually have sex with me. I got more and more disappointed and decided to divorce him. But the night before I printed the papers, I heard him on the balcony talking to his buddies. “Bro, I’m not trying to be nosy, but you’re obviously dying for it. Why won’t you touch her? The perfect woman is right there. It must feel amazing.” “Women can’t stand being ignored. If you keep bottling it up, she’ll eventually run off with another man, and you’ll regret it.” He took a quiet sip of whiskey. “But her skin is so delicate, and her waist is so slim… she’s so sensitive. What if I lose control and scare her? “She’s my woman. I have to be careful. If she wants to find comfort elsewhere, she can. As long as she’s still willing to come home, I’ll keep spoiling her.” They snorted. “Don’t act like a saint, man. If you’ve got the guts, stop secretly posting on Reddit.” Late that night, I quietly opened Travis’s browser history. A full hundred entries. The pinned post read: “I finally married the girl I’ve loved for years, but I have a very high sex drive. How can I make her enjoy it without leaving psychological scars?”…

My name is Elena Valesi Moretti. I'm a Brooklyn mob bride, a pawn in everyone's game. My father Enzo traded me for an alliance. My sister Isabella played the saint while secretly selling our baby sister Sofia to the Bianchi family behind closed doors. And my husband, Dante Moretti—the man with winter in his eyes who whispered “Try to run, I’ll break your legs” on our wedding day—he married me because when I was fifteen years old, I once pointed a gun at him inside a burning building. The only rule in this marriage was simple: stay out of his way. I spent three years breaking it. I sat in on council meetings and memorized every traitor's secret. I stood and watched a man's finger be severed to teach my own brother the price of betrayal. I turned myself into a blade. Then I uncovered the truth—Dante knew everything from the start. He knew my father had planted a mole inside his inner circle. He knew my sister was a trafficker's broker. He knew the woman he married was meant to be disposable from the very beginning. But there's one thing he never accounted for. He didn't marry a lamb. He married a wolf who learned how to draw blood. Now someone is trying to sell my little sister, and I have six weeks to stop it. I'm going to beat this man at every game he ever taught me.

After I, Wynn Jaffe, the Chief Forensic Pathologist, submitted my request to transfer into a clerical position, everyone in the department lit up with joy and approved it unanimously. Everyone except my boyfriend’s childhood friend, Yvette Hans, the rookie forensic doctor who called herself the ‘corpse whisperer,’ completely broke down. She burst into my office, grabbed onto my white coat with both hands with reddened eyes. “Senior, your skills may be outdated, but I truly hope you’ll stay and keep speaking up for the victims!” I coldly shrugged off her hand, packed my things, and walked away. In my previous life, she claimed herself as the ‘corpse whisperer,’ someone who could commune with the dead, hear their murmurs, and know what happened to them before they died. I worked tirelessly on every autopsy, dissecting, analyzing, and revising my reports. She only needed a single glance at the body to recite my entire report word-for-word. The victims’ families treated her like a saint, while they sneered at me, accusing me of disrespecting the dead. I could not accept it. I poured everything I had into every examination, but she always beat me to it, revealing the truth before I could. In the end, an extreme group of grieving family members, convinced I desecrated a corpse, kidnapped me, dismembered me, and dumped my remains in the wilderness. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn back to the very day Yvette first claimed she was a corpse whisperer.

Doctor Santiara Dy, kilala biglang isang magaling na Neurologist at isang sikat na writer sa social media. Perfect is the best description about her. Having a face like a Barbie, beautiful eyes with a long and thick eye lashes. But the most attractive is when she smile dahil lumalabas ang kaniyang malalim na biloy. The way she walk, mapapatingin ka dahil sa ganda ng katawan. Perfect size of boobs, small waistline and nice ass. Pero kahit nasa kaniya na ang lahat ay hindi pa rin siya kontento sa buhay niya. Hindi siya nagtatagal sa mga Hospital na pinagtatrabahuhan niya at kapag nagsawa na siya ay nagkukulong lang siya sa bahay niya at nagsusulat sa online Platform kung saan isa siyang sikat at kilalang writer. Si Dominick ay isang Ruthless Mafia Boss at nagmamay-ari sa lahat ng Hospitals na nakapangalan sa kaniya ang Saint Dominick Hospital. Bukod doon, isa rin siyang kilalang magaling na negosyante. Hinahabol ng mga babae sa taglay na ka guwapuhan. Guwapo pero nakakatakot na halos hindi ka makakatitig kapag siya ay nakatingin sa'yo dahil sa tingin pa lang niya ay parang mamamatay ka na sa takot. Matatakot kaya ang isang topakin, maldita at palaban ngunit friendly at palangiti na si Santiara sa isang mapanganib na Mafia Boss?

Women. Booze. Casual Sex and repeat. Yan ang nakasanayang buhay ng isang Saint Paris De Luca - isang casanovang bilyonaryo. Pangalang sinisigaw ng mga kababaihan at kinaiinggitan naman ng mga kalalakihan. Ipinangako niya sa sarili na walang babaeng makakapagpaluhod sa kanya sa kahit anong kagustuhan nito. No stress - no love , just sex. Hanggang dumating ang isang araw na aksidente niyang narinig na ipapakasal siya ng mga magulang sa isang babaeng nagngangalang Lois Andromeda Verlice. Isang babaeng ang prioridad ang pamilya at pangarap, malayong malayo sa iniisip niyang katulad ito ng ibang babaeng humahabol sa kanya. Ang babaeng ayaw din sa lalaking babaero tulad niya. At hindi siya pwede matali ng basta basta man lang, hindi niya kayang i-give up ang kalayaang meron siya ngayon bilang binata. Sanay siyang siya ang hinahabol at sinasamba ng mga babae. Kaya naman hinikayat niyang umayon ito sa plano niyang magpapangap silang magkasintahan kalaunan para na rin sa ikakabuti ng kondisyon ng ama niya. He love his life more than ever. Pero paano nalang niya gagawin yon kung araw-araw nito ipinaparamdam sa kanya kung ano ang kulang sa buhay niya. The love he never believe it existed. Mananatili pa ba silang magpapanggap para lang lokohin ang mga sarili nila, na alam nilang sa una palang talo na o mag take ng risk para sa pagmamahal na inaasam nila para sa isa't isa?

His hand pressed flat against the door before I could pull it open, and the warmth of him behind me made my body go completely still. "You are the mother of my child and you belong to me, and every breath you take on this island exists because I allow it."His hand moved from the door to my jaw, tilting my face up toward his with a gentleness that made me gulp. "So tell me, my beautiful wife—where exactly do you think you're going?" I had no answer and a knowing smile pulled on his lips. *** Elsie Miller’s simple life unravels the moment she discovers she is pregnant with no memory of how it happened. In a small town where reputation is worth more than truth, her parents choose to erase the scandal the only way they know how—by selling her to a man old enough to be her grandfather. She had accepted her fate and was ready to endure the wedding, but before the vows could be spoken, the church doors burst open and Salvatore Vitale—the most feared Mafia Lord in the underworld, known only as The Saint strode in, put a bullet in her groom’s head without breaking his stride, and told the priest to continue the ceremony. Then his dark eyes found hers across the blood-soaked aisle, and he spoke the words that rewrote her entire future. "I’ve been searching for you. Mother of my child." Taken to Salvatore’s private island, Elsie is thrust into a brutal empire built on blood oaths and ruthless power. Surrounded by those who see her as unworthy and a discarded fiancée who will stop at nothing to reclaim what she believes is rightfully hers, Elsie quickly learns that mercy does not exist in Salvatore’s world.

"BRENNENDER SCHMERZ": ​"Sie liebt ihn. Er benutzt sie. Und sie kann nicht aufhören." ​Die Saint Oswald University ist die Spielwiese der Reichen und Skrupellosen. Und Etienne Blackwell ist ihr unangefochtener König. Kalt, unwiderstehlich und gefährlich wie eine offene Flamme. Jede will ihn, doch er lässt niemanden nah genug heran, um ihn zu verbrennen. Bis Lilly Graves in sein Leben stolpert. ​Lilly weiß, dass Etienne Gift für sie ist. Sie hasst seine Arroganz, seine Kälte, seine grausamen Spielchen. Doch jede Berührung von ihm, jeder seiner dunklen Blicke zündet ein Feuer in ihr an, das sie zu verschlingen droht. Sie weiß, dass sie gehen sollte, bevor sie zerbricht. Aber wie kann sie sich von dem einzigen Mann lösen, der ihr das Gefühl gibt, wirklich lebendig zu sein? ​Es beginnt als ein Spiel, ein tödlicher Tanz zwischen Hass und Begierde. Etienne genießt es, Lilly an den Abgrund zu führen, um zu sehen, wie weit sie für ihn gehen würde. Er glaubt, er hätte die Kontrolle. Doch Lilly ist nicht wie die anderen. Sie ist stark, sie fordert ihn heraus und sie liebt ihn mit einer Intensität, die ihn verunsichert. ​Als eine dunkle Wahrheit aus Etiennes Vergangenheit ans Licht kommt, wird die brennende Leidenschaft zwischen ihnen zu einer Gefahr für sie beide. Werden sie gemeinsam verbrennen oder wird die Wahrheit sie endgültig zerstören?

Her silky hair was a mess. Her makeup, ruined. Her dress wrinkled like she slept on it. She was there, but her mind, elsewhere. Her eyes went to me. Her lips curled into a lazy smile. In every step she gave, my heart sank thinking she would fall. “What happened to you? Are you okay?” I rushed towards her. Her face twisted with disgust. “Oh, perfect Bella. The golden girl. Always correct. Always the best.” “What…” “Perfect Bella. Has the best grades. She doesn't have to fight to get into college, colleges fight over her.” “Emma, you are drunk.” “Perfect Bella doesn't drink. She is as pure as water. Saint Bella.” Her eyes glinted. “Perfect Bella doesn't sleep with her best friend's husband.” My body froze as a wave of chill ran through my spine. “What… what are you talking about?” She leaned in, her breath thick with alcohol, “Where do you think Marcus is? Why do you think I can barely walk straight? Is it hard to believe he took me and not you to that bad that was supposed to be yours?” My heart clenched. Tears started forming in my eyes. It didn't take long till they gave up to gravity. He… he didn't. We'd promised this morning. He couldn't. “He wouldn't.” ***** It's been a year, but the scars are still there. My past echoing in my head reminding me of everything that happened since that day. Every time I open my eyes in the morning to see... nothing. “You only get hurt by the ones you love the most.” “You only get betrayed by the ones you trust the most.” What happens when these two misbeliefs collide? ***** I hope I wrote this book good enough to make you feel it. Obrigada.☺️

Lyrique avait passé toute sa vie à être détestée. Moquée pour son visage marqué de cicatrices, méprisée par tous - y compris son propre compagnon - on ne cessait de lui répéter qu'elle était laide. Son compagnon ne l'avait gardée que pour obtenir davantage de territoire, et dès qu'il avait obtenu ce qu'il voulait, il l'avait rejetée, la laissant brisée et terriblement seule. Puis, elle l'avait rencontré, lui. Le premier homme à la trouver belle. Le premier à lui faire découvrir ce que signifiait être aimée. Ce n'avait été qu'une seule nuit, mais elle avait tout changé. Pour Lyrique, il était un saint, un sauveur. Pour lui, elle était la seule femme capable de lui faire atteindre l'orgasme - un problème qu'il avait combattu pendant des années. Lyrique avait cru que sa vie allait enfin prendre un autre sens… mais comme tous les autres avant lui, il lui avait menti. Et lorsqu'elle avait découvert qui il était réellement, elle avait compris qu'il n'était pas seulement dangereux - il était du genre d'homme auquel on n'échappe pas. Lyrique a voulu fuir. Elle désirait la liberté. Mais elle voulait aussi reprendre ce qu'on lui avait volé : son respect, sa dignité, sa place. Elle voulait se relever de ses cendres. Jusqu'à ce qu'elle soit finalement forcée d'entrer dans un monde sombre, un monde dans lequel elle n'avait jamais souhaité mettre les pieds.

This isn't a fairytale. Mirror Mirror on the wall. A fairytale that became her fall. “Over my dead body will I let a man whore father my child. You're in every way incapable, irresponsible and definitely incompetent of becoming a father.” She said with a smile. "Stop acting like a saint, you're not one. You're only pregnant because you're a slut yourself, so what exactly is the difference between you and me?” She stepped up to him with a mocking smile. “Maybe, I'll show him pictures.” Anger flared up inside him. Who the fuck does she think she is? “Show him pictures!?" His fingers grabbed her throat. His eyes held hers. She didn't flinch, instead, a small smile played on her lips. Crazy ass bitch. He isn't used to being challenged. “I don't need to beg you for anything.” He growled. "You have no other option.” She scoffed. "I have a lot of options, Kim.” He continued. "I can take him away from you after birth,” “I want to see you try.” The smile on his face told her otherwise. “What will you do? Take me to court? Fight for custody?” He chuckled. “I can bribe the whole fucking court.” Her heart skipped a beat. No. "You don't get to decide.” He lit a cigarette. "Everything will go my way.” "It'll not!” “Maybe I'll show him your pictures. Or let you visit him once a week, who knows?" He shrugged. “This is my child!" She screamed, tears welled up in her eyes. “So it's either you do as I say, or I'll do as I please." “What do you want?" Hot tears rolled down her cheeks. “Where I come, illegitimate children aren't accepted in the family." “I'm not marrying you!" “I'll never marry you!" She screamed. "You have no choice..”