Seven Years Later

Twenty seven year old trust fund baby Sawyer Driscoll has way too much time on her hands, and even she knows it. Emotionally scarred with crippling abandonment issues, she finds solace in whimsical Kate Lovelace's comforting presence– the breathtaking lifeguard two years her junior who heroically rescued her from nearly drowning while drunk at Naples beach. At around the same time, she becomes drawn to mysterious Blythe Collier– an aspiring Conductor in her early thirties dead set on fulfilling her longtime dream of working with world renowned Orchestras. After meeting at a local Lesbian nightclub roughly three weeks later, the two hit it off immediately with their mutual love for body shots and the fine art of instrumental music. Her only issue? She's already heavily involved with Kate. The solution to crafty Sawyer's dilemma is simple; Date them both. What could go wrong? Assuming they don't catch on to the idea that their charming girlfriend wants to have her cake and eat it too, that is. Two's company, three's a crowd; Everyone says so, right? ...But does it have to be? *Disclaimer* - Strong sexual content, difficult mental health topics, and discussions of death, self harm, and suicide. 18+, please 2020 All Rights Reserved (you know how it goes)

When Sakura once again meets the gorgeous brothers, Sebastian and Darcy Princeton, forbidden feelings are awakened and old flame ignites. As an orphan, Sakura is accustomed to being bullied and unloved. When she is taken in by the wealthy Princetons, she works hard to earn the family’s trust and love. Her endeavor, however, ultimately leads to a series of unfortunate incidents. Now years later, the twenty-three-year-old beauty dreads the moment she once again has to meet the seven gorgeous Princeton brothers, due to arrive for their cousin’s wedding. Dodging their very presence is next to impossible since the brothers are attracted to her like moths to a flame and thwart her escapes at every turn. This leads to tempting situations, awakens forbidden feelings, and ignites old flames that have been suppressed and lying dormant for many years. When she finds them vying for her, she is torn between Sebastian, the brother who loves her and watches over her from a distance, and Darcy, the brother who was once her best friend and now secretly yearns for her forgiveness and her love once again. Will Sakura choose one over the other, or accept them both as her heart’s desire? Falling for Sakura is a slow-burn ménage romance and has a happy ending.

Caught in a web of betrayal, Nicole’s life shatters in a single evening when her mother-in-law, Veronica, sets her up in an elaborate scheme. Blindsided, Nicole faces her husband Taylor’s cold rage as he casts her out of his life and home, accusing her of infidelity and theft. As she tries to defend herself, her best friend, Sarah, adds another blow by denying their loyalty. “Please, Taylor, you have to believe me!” Nicole pleads, her voice breaking, but his icy response is a dagger to her heart. “I don’t hate you, Nicole,” he sneers. “I despise you.” When Nicole reveals she’s pregnant, she hopes for compassion, but it only fuels Veronica’s determination to rid the family of her. After signing the divorce papers, a dejected Nicole wanders alone, where a brutal attack leaves her bleeding, helpless, and desperate to protect her unborn child. Six years later, Nicole returns from the ashes to inflict seven times the pains upon those who humiliated her and left her to die. “I’ll make them pay so dearly that they’d regret ever been born!” She declares. This is a story of romance and revenge you don’t want to miss!

I’d been married to my husband James for three years. On Valentine’s Day, he gave his stepsister, Mia, one hundred and eighty thousand dollars, along with millions in jewelry. I, on the other hand, received a free bouquet of roses. When I didn’t look thrilled, he accused me of being a gold digger. “Mia never had anyone to care for her growing up. Why are you competing with her? Isn’t being Mrs. Smith enough to feed your vanity?” Furious, I stormed out of the house. When a car lost control and came barreling toward me, he instinctively rushed to protect Mia, who was standing a full ten feet from the road. I was the one who ended up in the hospital. Lying in that bed, I finally gave up. I signed the divorce papers without hesitation. “Giving up the title of Mrs. Smith is the dumbest decision you’ll ever make,” he told me, looking down at me from above before walking away. Seven years later, we met again. He took one glance at my simple dress and laughed out loud. I didn’t bother to respond. I just held my daughter close and waited for her father—the richest man in the city—to arrive.

A video of my boyfriend proposing to his secretary makes it to the trending topics. Everyone squeals over how romantic and touching it is. His secretary even posts on social media, "I've waited so long for you to appear, and I'm glad I didn't give up. I'll leave my life in your hands, Mr. Emerson." One of the comments goes, "God, this is so sweet. A CEO and his secretary—I ship them!" I don't weep or cause a fuss. Instead, I close the webpage and ask my boyfriend for an explanation. That's when I hear him talking to his friends. "I didn't have a choice. She would've been forced to marry someone she doesn't love if I didn't help her." "What about Vicky? She's your actual girlfriend. Aren't you afraid of her getting mad?" "So what if she is? She's been with me for seven years—she can't live without me." Later, I have my wedding on the same day as his. Our cars drive past each other, and I exchange bouquets with his secretary. When he sees me, he breaks down.

The day my father dies, my boyfriend, Heath Summers, is accompanying his true love for her prenatal checkup. I lose hope in him and ask for a breakup, but he thinks I'm just being jealous. He says, "Naomi's already miscarried thrice—it hasn't been easy for her to conceive this child. Stop being unreasonable." I've been with him for seven years, but it turns out I can't compare to his childhood sweetheart.

"Strip." "What?" "I said you should strip... You've lost your courage so fast?" Mavis stutters, colour flooding her cheeks. He takes a step further, coming to stand right behind her. he pushes her hair to one side, leaving her left shoulder bare save for the strap of the flimsy red dress. With a deep inhale, he picks the one strap and tugs on it until it slides down her arm, loose. "I am paying you Ten Million Dollars, I should at least have some fun." When the tip of his fingers touch her skin again, it slides dangerously close to her cleavage, and maybe, just maybe, she'd like to have his palms cup her breasts the same way they'd done all those years ago. ********************* It took Seven whole years for her to reappear in his world, and when she did, she did not come alone. She'd had a baby for him seven years before, and that jewel is on the edge of death... For the same child, she'd decided to grovel or worship him and do whatever he wants for a week, just like all those years before. Nothing could possibly go wrong, right? This time, she thinks she can run from Lance Wesker? with the child that looks suspiciously like him? And worst of all, now knowing that Lance Wesker is not a nobody... He is not just the World's Most Eligible Bachelor, he is also her best friend's Elder Brother? Things are about to unravel in the best and messiest way possible, because with Lance and Mavis, nothing is ever going the right way!

Soon after I came back to the country, someone slapped me right across the face in broad daylight, yelling that I was a mistress. A crowd of reporters closed in, pelting me with questions about whether Chandler Armstrong, CEO of Armstrong Industries, was keeping me as his mistress. I was stunned speechless for a moment, but then I pulled out my wedding photo with Chandler from seven years ago and held it up. "What are you talking about? I'm his wife!" The crowd went silent, and the woman who'd slapped me turned white as a sheet. Only then did I finally get it: while I'd been overseas, Chandler had been openly involved with an actress, and everyone in his social circle had already decided she was the future Mrs. Armstrong. Today, they all came expecting to confront a mistress—only to find out that I was actually his wife. Later, Chandler tried to justify it. "Alina, you've been out of the country for years. I'm a man, and I have needs. She's just a B-list actress; it's not like she threatens your position. Why should you be upset? Just let it go," he said. "Don't make a scene." I handed him the divorce papers. "You make me sick."

To make up for past regrets with his first love, my husband, Pierce Ronan, lied that he could see everyone’s lifespan. He told me I had sixty years left, but his first love, Jessica Stone, had only seven days to live. So, for those seven days, he said he had to fulfill the promises of their youth. He brought her home, cared for her, and when they went back to their old college campus to relive their love, I didn’t protest. When he confessed his love to her and planned the wedding of the century, asking me to be the bridesmaid, I didn’t raise my voice. It wasn’t until he wanted to break the final taboo — in our marital bedroom — that he looked at me with guilt in his eyes and begged me to move out. The housemaids watched, snickering behind their hands, but I only smiled and nodded in agreement. I packed my bags, carried our child, and moved into the guest room next door. Seeing how obedient I remained, Pierce was touched. “I promise, this will be the last time I wrong you. Once Jessica passes, I’ll make it up to you.” What he didn’t know was that I had already seen through his lies. What he also didn’t know was that the one truly dying of cancer, the one with only seven days left to live, was me. Three days remained. Then, I would be gone.

Seven years after registering our marriage, my husband Gaius and I finally decided to hold the romantic wedding ceremony we had missed back then. That day, I wore the wedding gown I had designed myself and walked toward him with hopeful eyes. Before I could deliver my carefully prepared vows, an incident interrupted the moment. Amid the stunned murmurs of the guests, Gaius dashed toward the woman who had fainted—again—at my wedding. His voice trembled with urgency, eyes burning red. "Call an ambulance! Now!" He didn't even look back as he left the wedding hall. When the wedding bell rang seven times, I calmly pulled off my veil. Facing the guests who had yet to disperse, I smiled and said, "As you can see, today marks the divorce ceremony between Gaius and me. Please, eat and drink to your heart's content. Don't let the trip go to waste!"