Ship Names For A Couple

I watched my boyfriend down on one knee proposing to another woman. Turns out that he was cheating on me with her for two years. Our five years together meant nothing to him. He claimed that he needed her money –connections and that I should be the one to play the role of a mistress. I refused. I didn’t stick around. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I wanted something strong to numb my pain— and yes, I ended up in the loudest club. Then I met him, Adrian Foster. The wealthiest and powerful CEO. The moment I lost my balance, he caught me and pulled me straight in to his chest. Fate? I didn’t believe in it. But may be …. He did.

It is the third year of the apocalypse. All water sources have been thoroughly polluted, making even a single bottle of clean water extremely rare. Every base has to send out search teams to find new water sources for all. My husband, Jasper Curran, is a geologist, and so, he is able to locate water sources that are still pure and unpolluted. However, when someone holds a knife to my throat for the last bottle of water—thinking that he will do anything to stop them—he hands the only bottle of clean water to Avery Grayson, the person who claimed she was my parents' real daughter instead of me. "Ave is thirsty. She's been suffering since she was little and she even had her parents taken by you, Arianne Grayson," Jasper says. "Just let her have the water." Jasper's expression is too calm and collected, as if my life is not on the line because of him. "They're just trying to scare you. You've enjoyed so many years of being spoiled with a luxurious lifestyle anyway. So what if you get bullied a little?" The people then kick me to the ground in a fit of rage as I watch Jasper huddle Avery into his arms and disappear into the desert. I get beaten up so hard that my chapped lips crack and start bleeding once again. I look at the menacing faces around me and quickly exclaim, "Wait, wait! I can help you find clean water too!"

On the day before the competition, someone knocked me out when I was on the street before locking me up in a cage. For three days and three nights, I was chased around by a ferocious dog that kept biting and attacking me. Because of that, my wounds began leaking pus due to infection. Later on, five rich ladies had me locked up in a room. After chaining me up like a dog, they began tormenting me out of fun. When I finally got rescued, I had suffered from countless fractures. Even my internal organs went out of place from the beatings. My older sister, Claire Bowman, whom I'd been relying on since young, had me sent to the hospital immediately. There, I received a rabies vaccine. Meanwhile, my fiancee, Heather Vega, killed the mutt right in front of me in order to help me exact vengeance. She also stripped those ladies down and put them through a humiliating parade in public. After that, she kicked them off to the slums, where they became playthings for the beggars. But as I was lying on the hospital bed, I accidentally overheard Claire and Heather's conversation. "Do you think Christopher will resent us if he ever finds out that we're the ones who've set the dog and the ladies on him just so we can make Samuel the winner of the competition in order to repay him for his benevolence?" Heather's tone was unusually icy. "Christopher's just a replacement for Samuel. This is his fault for not knowing his place and insisting on fighting over the top spot with Samuel! I'm just teaching him a lesson! "Soon, I'll marry him in order to make it up to him. Then, I'll take care of him for the rest of his life. This is already enough." I did my best to hold my tears back while feeling my heart throb in pain. It turned out that the most important women in my life were also the ones who had ruined my lifelong dream. Since they didn't care about me at all, I chose to abandon them as well.

During the holiday break, my wife, Jayda Glover—the hospital's star surgeon and Chief of Cardiac Surgery—suddenly "had to work overtime." Our third-anniversary hot springs trip? Canceled. That night, I was scrolling social media when a post from her intern, Dillon Tripp, popped up. My ice-queen wife always said her "golden hands" were only for patients. Apparently, they cook now too. She was in a cartoon apron, calmly chopping vegetables. The caption read: [Thank you, Dr. Glover, for personally cooking to comfort me after I was bullied by a patient's family!] I tapped like and left a comment. [White coat to apron. Very domestic.] Ten minutes later, the whole hospital knew Cardiac Surgery's untouchable beauty had broken her rule—just to cook for a younger guy. Jayda called. Dishes clattered in the background. "You really had to embarrass me in public? He got hot water thrown on him by a patient's family today. I was just doing my duty as his mentor! "A pampered professor's kid like you wouldn't know the first thing about how hard broke med students have it. "Apologize to Dillon right now. Otherwise, no matter how much you beg later, I'm not going on that trip with you!" Beg her? I looked at the divorce papers that had just arrived on the coffee table and let out a quiet laugh. I wasn't begging anymore. From this moment on, we were strangers.

At dinner, Tiffany White grabs my fiance's phone and spends 100 thousand dollars on a designer bag. She even sticks her tongue at me. "Come on, Meredith. You're loaded. You won't mind such a small amount, right? Shawn and I share everything. His money is my money," she says. Everyone at the table waits for me to lose my temper or smile and let it slide like a saint. Instead, I calmly take out a voice recorder and my laptop from my bag and adjust my gold-rimmed glasses. "100 thousand meets the threshold for criminal filing. Since you said you two share everything, I have to ask—is this embezzlement or an illegal transfer tied to an improper personal relationship? "Oh, and what you just said about 'his money is my money'? I recorded that. According to the supplemental clauses in our prenup and the company bylaws, I'm officially initiating an asset-freezing order against Shawn Harrison." I turn to Tiffany. "Enjoy your free meals in prison, Ms. White." Shawn is livid. "It was just a joke, Meredith. Is it really necessary to ruin me over this?" I hit the "enter" key. "Sorry. In my book, there are no jokes—only bad debt."

(First Generation 3) 'Ang taong gipit, sa patalim kumakapit..' Nang madiagnosed ng cancer ang anak ni Mari Ysabela Fallorina ay napilitan siyang tanggpin ang offer ng isang aroganteng bilyonaryo na si Vincent Veda Lee. She will pretend as his mistress to make his wife jealous at hindi na ituloy ang divorce laban sa lalaki kapalit ng malaking halaga. Dapat ay acting lang ang lahat pero bakit pakiramdam niya ay nahulog na siya sa kanyang boss na mala-oppa? At bakit parang nahulog na rin ang loob nito sa kanya? Maniniwala ba siyang tunay ang nararamdaman nito gayong bago pa lang naman silang magkakilala? Paano kung matuklasan niya ang isang nakaraan na babago sa pagtingin nila sa isa't isa?

I am the long-lost true heir of the Kensington family. In just the second month after reconciling with the Kensington family, I solved a technical problem that the Kensington Corp's Military Research Institute had failed to crack for five whole years. Yet, my adoptive brother, Sean Kensington, the fake heir, exchanged my patent bonus worth millions for a 20-percent-off coupon for a cup of latte. I went to my older sister, Sonya, the CEO, but she simply waved her hand dismissively, completely unconcerned. "Enough, Wesley. Sean just did it for your own good. If you're holding onto that much money, what if some organization set their eyes on you? This way, your safety is protected. "Besides, you've only come to the city not long ago. I doubt you've ever had something like a latte before. Take it as a chance to experience it. I'll even give you another ten dollars. You can buy yourself another cup." I looked at the condescension in her eyes, planning to send the recording to our parents. Yet, I saw on their social media that they had just bought a seaside mansion and a luxury car as a celebration gift for Sean's achievements. Then, I glanced at the coupon they had just sent me. [You did help Sean after all. Your father and I bought you a cake as a reward. Go pick it up yourself.] I checked the price. After discount, it was a mere 13 bucks. They had to be kidding me. I directly dialed the number of Kensington Corp's rival company, Jet Group. "I think the exclusive patent for this new missile should be yours. From now on, all my research results will only be shared with Jet Group."

When I saw her from across the bar with her pretty little face, her big brown eyes, her long black hair and her beautiful body, I just knew that I would never be able to shake her from my damn mind. She turned my life upside down from the day I laid eyes on her. But then, the situation changed. She saw something she shouldn’t have seen. Found out who I really was. The truth behind my rugged exterior. But you know the rules of the Corsican Mafia. No witnesses… So I had to take her in. I had to make her my hostage. And I had to make her my wife… Whether she liked it or not.

SOLD TO THE ALPHA FOR A ONE NIGHT STAND When he stepped into view, all my breath left me in one sharp gasp. His presence filled the room, an overwhelming force that took my breath away. He stood tall and confident, his black hair styled back, a few stray strands falling over his forehead, giving him a wild edge. His jaw was strong, a neatly trimmed beard only accentuating his chiseled features. He was devastatingly handsome, but it wasn’t just his looks that affected me, it was the aura around him, the power that radiated from every inch of his body. His eyes locked with mine, and an overwhelming sense of power washed over me. My heart pounded in my chest, racing like I had no control over it. This man wasn’t just anyone. There was something primal in his gaze, something dangerous and alluring. Something...otherworldly.

"Stop... Don't! I'm already at my limit!" I'm on my knees on the floor, tears streaming down my face, while a shirtless man stands in front of me with a leather whip in his hand. His voice stays gentle, but his movements never slow. "Babe, we're only halfway there." After I come back from the dead, I spend 80 million dollars hiring the most expensive male model in all of Navarro to spend the night with me. With that kind of money on the table, the service absolutely lives up to its price. He pulls out every trick I've never tried in my life. The next morning, I'm sitting astride him, using him as my morning workout, when suddenly there's one more person in the room. My husband, the Don of a mafia family, Leone Vieri.