Skipper Kowalski Rico And Private

Before our marking ceremony, my fiancé, Adrian Conner, insists on bringing his childhood sweetheart along on our trip—all because Flora Wooledge says she also wants to see the northern lights. He switches my first-class ticket to Flora's name. He says, "I'll fly first class with Flora. You can take connecting flights by land. The doctor said it's not good for a pregnant woman to stay at high altitude for too long." I don't cry or argue. Instead, I calmly push him toward Flora. He snorts. "You've finally learned to behave. You're not as clingy and troublesome as before." After he leaves, I quietly sign the abortion consent form at the hospital. Then, I book a ticket to the southern hemisphere. In my past life, I begged and clung to him, hoping to keep him with our pup. But on that trip, Flora was attacked by rogue wolves and torn apart in the snow. Adrian kept a calm facade. Yet on the night I was about to give birth, he dragged me back home and cut open my belly with his own hands. He stood there and listened as our pup's cries slowly faded away. He poured all his hatred onto me. He believed I caused Flora's death and that I ruined his chance to become the Conner family's heir. To him, I was nothing more than a sacrificial pawn. In this new life, when I step off the private jet, I see Adrian standing there with his eyes bloodshot. He stares at my belly and asks, "Where's the pup?" Before I can answer, his half-brother wraps an arm around my waist. "Adrian, show some respect to your sister-in-law."

Caitlin Van Dyke is at a crossroads. She’s thirty-two years old and she’s never been married, has no career, or a real life by the world’s standards. Caitlin is determined to find herself and figure out what she wants out of life. So, she made an impulsive purchase online – a fixer-upper in Key West. While there she plans to discover herself and try new things. Before she leaves she attends her sister, Catherine’s wedding. During the reception, her boyfriend, Hector Beaumont, proposes to her. Caitlin explains where she’s at in her life and tells him she’ll think over his proposal while she is away. Caitlin had planned to be alone to find herself on the tropical island – and to renovate her new purchase. But when she arrives, she discovers that the fixer-upper is in worst shape than she had thought. She has no choice but to hire a handyman. A.J., lone wolf, drifter, and he lives on a boat but he came highly recommended. So, Caitlin hired him not knowing that doing so would turn her life upside down. Their attraction is too strong for them to deny. Their chemistry boils over during Hurricane Bart on a private island. After two or three weeks of bliss, Caitlin decides she has to return to the real world – without A.J. After returning to New York, Caitlin accepts Hector’s proposal. Her mother can’t wait to start planning wedding weekend events Van Dyke style. Everything is going according to plan until A.J. pops up in New York at a dinner Caitlin is hosting under his real identity. Pregnant and engaged, what is a girl to do when her summer lover shows up, demanding that she be with him?

My fiance, Victor Blackwood, is a mafia boss who rules the country's underworld with an iron fist. To the rest of the world, he is the epitome of power. Yet to me, he is the embodiment of love. But I do not realize the cost of loving a man like him. On Valentine's Day, I cook his favorite dishes and wait for him to come home. However, time passes, and his chair stays empty. Uneasy, I go to Queenie Stone's social media page. She is Victor's foster sister. She posts, "All I said was that I felt lonely, and he came right away. "Even when I accidentally spilled wine on him, he didn't mind. Victor is still someone who puts family first, even if it means neglecting his lover. "He never lets me down. I hope things stay that way." In the photo, Victor's shirt is soaked at the waist. Queenie's handkerchief lingers near his most private parts, but he doesn't pull away. He merely looks at her affectionately. I do not make a fuss and give Queenie's post a like. Then, I send Victor a message that reads, "Let's break up." Victor ignores it as always. Later, I discover that when my breakup message popped up, he had said offhandedly, "Vivienne can't live without me. She's just acting out. "If I ignore her for a few days, she'll come crawling back by herself. She's easy to please." What he doesn't know is that I was easy to handle only because I once loved him. But now that I have decided to leave, he cannot make me turn back, no matter how he tries to win me over.

"I didn't do anything wrong," I choked out. "You stuck your nose into my private matters," he hissed. "No one can sentence me without proof," I challenged him. He straightened up. Any traces of a smile abruptly disappeared from his face. "You still don't get it, do you? I own this city. It means that if I say you go to jail, that means you go to jail." He leaned over me again, his stare piercing right through me, "And if I say that I want you, that means you are already mine." My jaw tensed as I resisted an urge to talk back. This wasn't a battle I could win, and this wasn't a man I could win against... How did I get myself into all that mess?! *** My name is Cora Bell, and I'm about to marry Aren Lan, New York's most wanted bachelor. A dream come true? I highly doubt that. The guy is an arrogant, wealthy beyond imagination, asshole. Not to mention that our relationship is based solely on a contract, a contract I was forced to sign when I accidentally ruined this guy's engagement... I used to dream of a simple life. I wanted to graduate from university and work as a software programmer, but my fate chose a different path for me to follow. First, I had to give up on my studies to take care of dear Grandma, and now I'm forced to play the role of a manipulative jerk's loving fiancée! The problem is that my husband-to-be is insanely sexy and enjoys teasing me a bit too much. How the hell am I going to survive being close to him throughout the two years of our fake marriage?!

"If I were you..." He began, his eyes suddenly having slits of fury burning within them. "I'd mind my thoughts and limit what I say." His voice dropped gravely low. My brows knitted in a frown. "Excuse me?" I asked, amused. "Are you threatening me??" I prodded further. Nicholas chortled, his voice reverberating through the walls of the room. "Call it whatever you want-I honestly don't give two fucks, but let me make it known to you, young lady..." He started and paused, and in a flick, his face became contorted with rage. "You're my possession now... You're at my mercy and I can fucking do anything I want to do to you right now, in case you don't realize that yet." He continued and I stared on, goosebumps breaking out on my forearm. "Who can save you from my clutches? Exactly what you're guessing... nobody, not even your boss, Megan!" ~>>>~ Nicholas Hills is one of the new names on the movie production scene. He is known as a Billionaire Playboy who had inherited his fortune from his Grandfather. Nicholas is naturally flirty, his good looks making him an automatic ladies' magnet, so he hides his vulnerability and prefers to give off the impression of being a careless playboy. Corvette Vincente, a 24-year-old Private Investigator is the best at what she does. Working for the ruthless gossip magazine "Splash a Star" which makes its profit from bringing out the skeleton in the closet of celebrity stars,Corvette is the best they have and her latest assignment is the Playboy Billionaire movie producer, Nicholas Hills. Getting him caught up in a scandal should be as easy as swatting a fly, but what happens when his charms and sensuality turn her into his scandal instead...? And she loves it! Every single bit!!

When my four sons were finally old enough for preschool, I arrived at the school office with my marriage certificate and their birth certificates, ready to sign them up. But the lady at the counter frowned and said, "These documents don't check out. According to the system, your kids don't even exist." I felt as if the floor had dropped out from under me. I remembered when Sheldon Clem and I got married—he was the one who handled all the paperwork, the birth registrations, everything. I never imagined that when I tracked him down with our four boys, he'd be holding his childhood sweetheart in his arms, with her little girl snuggled against him. And then we heard him sweet-talking her right in front of us. "Don't be mad, babe. I've got everything set up for us overseas. Gigi is going to the most expensive private school, and you'll be living in the nicest penthouse downtown. "Sure, she gave me four sons, but all my love and money are with you. I only kept her around because I felt sorry for her. "What else do you need? My will's already signed. Everything goes to you and Gigi." Riley Anderson pouted, smug and satisfied. "If you don't love her, then she's the other woman, not me. She's got no right to fight me for anything!" So he never went bankrupt. When we got back home, Sheldon acted as if nothing had happened. "Honey, I've found this amazing project overseas, so I won't have time to come home much. I'll need you to hold down the fort at home." I smiled and nodded. "Sure, go ahead." If that was how he wanted to play this, then fine. I'd make sure he really went broke, and then I'd find my boys a new father.

After being forced to give my wife's first love my heart, I died in the hallway of the private hospital she had personally founded. My six-year-old son, Ash, had already begged her thrice by the time I had drawn my last breath. The first time was when he tugged on her hand, saying I was coughing up blood. Sneering, she claimed, "So he's finally learned something—teaching his kid how to lie." Then, she had the bodyguards throw him out of the room. The second time was when he clung to her sleeve, insisting that I rambled nonsense due to the pain. "It's just a heart transplant," she opined with a frown. "The doctor already said he won't die." At that, the bodyguards stepped in again and dragged him away. The third time was when he fell to the ground, clutching her pant leg with all his strength, crying that I had already passed out. She finally lost her temper by this point, grabbing Ash by the throat and hurling him out of the room. "I have already said it—Howard isn't going to die. Dare to disturb Skye's rest again, and I'll throw both of you out of this hospital," she warned. To save me, my son pawned the most precious thing he owned—his St. Christopher medal—to a nurse. "Ma'am," he said. "I don't need to live a long life. I just want my dad to live." She accepted the medal and was about to arrange for me to be transferred to the last available room. However, my wife's first love, Skye Whitley, had someone block the doorway with his pet dog. He mentioned, "Sorry, kid. Your mom's worried I'll get bored if I can't see my dog. This room is reserved for him."

At twenty-eight, I held the dubious honor of being the last unmarried socialite on New York's Upper East Side. Everyone around me was growing increasingly anxious about my single status. In my previous life, my mother arranged a matchmaking cocktail party, where I was told to choose a husband from ten handpicked elite bachelors. I bribed the event planner to place Mark West's profile at the very top—and as I had hoped, I chose him. After we married, Mark treated me with what seemed like tender affection. He even bought me an oceanfront villa in the Hamptons, making me believe I had finally found true love. But that illusion shattered the day I was nine months pregnant, just hours away from giving birth. Mark drove a scalpel straight into my abdomen—then, right in front of me, hurled our newborn onto the floor. "If you hadn't forced me into this marriage with your family's power, Sofia wouldn't have been heartbroken enough to go drinking and get drugged and assaulted. This… this is what you owe her!" He tossed the scalpel aside, then calmly let his private doctor pin down my blood-soaked body. I fought through excruciating pain for six agonizing hours, until I finally bled to death. Afterward, Mark dumped my corpse into the Hudson River. But for Sofia, he hosted a grand funeral—funded with my money, under my name—and paraded himself to the world as a grieving, devoted widower. Given a second chance at life, I refused to step foot in that cursed matchmaking event. Instead, I went straight to my mother with a demand: marry me to Robert Black—the most ruthless, cold-blooded titan of Wall Street, whose scarred face was feared by all. In the end, stripped of my financial backing, Mark's hedge fund collapsed. He became a disgraced fraudster, spat on by everyone on Wall Street.

Prologue Nathan sat on the roof with a portrait in his hand. He has been looking at her portrait for the past hours and he is not ready to let go of it. He stared at the picture with a satisfied smile on his face. His Sadie! He just can't stop staring at her. She was really his sweet angel which portray the meaning of her name. Sadie! He hugged the portrait before dropping it. He picked up his drawing paper and pencil ready to sketch her beautiful face again. Every corner of his room has her picture, everything! And almost all his belongings too. His plates were designed with her picture, his phone pouch was her, his wrist band has her name. His private company is in her name, his box has her picture, his closet, just name it. The workers thought he's running mad, no one believed it's love except his family and of course, his personal guard. He smiled at nothing closing his eyes before starting the sketching. He's been stalking her ever since that faithful day they met , that faithful day she became his sweet angel. He knows her every moves, everything she does and how she's being treated in her own home . He turned his hand in a fist and his jaw tightened. The thougt of that does nothing but angers him. He wants to save her, he wants to take her out of that bondage but it's not yet time. She doesn't even recognize him, it will be insane to go ask her out for marriage when she doesn't know him . He's going to make them pay, watching his Sadie from a far distance seeing her in tears, seeing her lonely, seeing her sad and seeing her feeling unloved hurt his heart so much

What happens when the heir to the strongest Alpha bloodline, who has his future arranged and his Luna chosen, crosses paths with destiny? What happens when that destiny takes the form of a mate… the same transfer student who’s just been assigned to share his Alpha Suite? What happens when his mate isn’t the perfect Luna the council promised him— but a man. What happens when loyalty to his pack collides with a bond he never asked for? What happens when the walls of the locker room helps him to hide secrets he cannot deny? what happens when students begin to vanish inside Silverfang University? Three months until his wedding. One bond he can’t break everything he had laboured for. ***** “Alpha,” Sky said calmly and almost playful. “You’re too stiff. You can’t play like that.” I swung my stick to take the puck, but he turned fast again. And his back brushed against my chest. My whole body practically jumped. My body reacted in a way it shouldn't have. “Relax, baby…” he said, still moving with the puck. “It’s only a drill, my princess. Besides, we have audience.” he whispered. BLURB: Riven, the perfect Alpha. Born to lead. Soon to be married to the Luna everyone has been preparing for him. But then Sky walks into his life. A new transfer student with a scent Riven can’t ignore. One word flashes his mind the moment they lock eyes: Mate. It’s wrong. It’s dangerous. And it’s messing everything up—his focus, his team, his future. Everything goes worse when Riven is forced to share his private dorm with Sky. Riven can’t stay away. He craves Sky. His scent drives Riven crazy. He is addicted to Sky. But does sky want him?