Slap In The Face Synonym

On the day I attend the centennial celebration of my alma mater, I encounter my first love, Victor Whitmore. After he delivers a speech as an alumni representative, he publicly presents me with a diamond ring. "Back then, you said you wanted to use your 'Wild Roses' design to make me a wedding ring. Now it's my turn to propose. Claire Webb, will you marry me?" The auditorium erupts in excitement. Everyone waits for me to nod tearfully in agreement. After all, I once pursued Victor with such passion that it shocked the entire school. However, everyone has forgotten something. Back then, I was accused of plagiarizing Emma Palmer's work for my graduation project. Victor knew the truth, yet he slandered me as the plagiarizer. At the press conference, as the brand representative, he announced that they would cease collaboration with me and called for me to be blacklisted across the industry. On the very day my reputation was ruined, I moved abroad. Now that I'm back, his close friend keeps advising me. "He's been waiting for you all these years. Even though you embarrassed him back then, you're still the one in his heart. "He even made a scene at the principal's office just to get your graduation certificate. Claire, he truly loves you."

I paid Curtis Robinett 200 thousand dollars a month to be a standby blood donor. My fiancée, Eden May, thought it was a waste of money. So she reassigned him to work part-time as her personal assistant instead. When Curtis accidentally submitted my marriage license appointment as a divorce filing for the 99th time, I kicked open Eden's office door. She didn't even look up. "We're in no rush to get married anyway," she said calmly. "Curtis is just careless. That's how he's always been." Later, in the emergency room, I called Eden while doctors rushed around me, my throat shredded from yelling. "Where's my emergency medical kit?" I rasped. "What did you do with it?" Curtis answered instead, his voice warm and smug. "You mean the expensive leather bag you kept in the cabinet? I swapped it out for a large party snack box. It holds everything just fine, and honestly, it looks a lot more cheerful. "Ms. May's brother and sister-in-law are both career soldiers. Your bag didn't really match that image, so I thought this would be more appropriate." My vision dimmed. My hands shook as I told Curtis to come donate blood. Eden laughed softly and cut in, "Stop pretending you're anemic just to get attention. If you're actually sick, deal with it. You're at the hospital; I think the doctors are fully capable of keeping you alive. Curtis is afraid of needles. He's not coming." Then, she hung up. She didn't appear until the surgical lights finally went dark. "Curtis had me bring you chocolate milk," she said. "It's good for recovery. It's not that he didn't want to help. He just faints at the sight of blood." She placed a settlement waiver on my bed. "I was the one who told him not to come. That 200-thousand-dollar monthly salary is his pay as my assistant. It has nothing to do with you. You didn't have to call the police for that. Sign this, and I'll go get the marriage license with you." I thought of what I had just seen in the operating room. Eden's brother, Harvey May, was bleeding out on the operating table, waiting for a lifesaving drug that never came. In the final moments of surgery, he could do nothing but lie there and die. I looked at her and said evenly, "You're the immediate family. It's not my place to sign that."

BOOK #6 - WRIGHT-PETROV SERIES After her father's death, Kamilla lost her association with her father's employer. The Petrov family. Everything else followed. People she considered friends, including her boyfriend, turned their backs on her. She was outcasted by the same people previously groveling to please her. Overnight, she becomes a nobody. An easy target for the hypocrites of society. Nonetheless, she endures. She is far stronger than anyone realizes. However, someone thought she needed protection. "Why are you doing this, Mr. Samuel Petrov? I do not need the frivolity of your world. And please do not give me that lame excuse about being my father's friend again," she shows her defiance by meeting his calm gaze with her sharp angry one. "Believe me, Kamilla, you will not want to hear my reasons." Samuel bore her with an ominous look, attempting to dismiss her. "What reasons, Mr. Petrov? Does it include watching me sleep in the middle of the night? Or your huge one down there having a hard-on whenever you see me in my flimsy nightgown?" with regained boldness, she sassed while pointing at the bump of his pants. Samuel raised a brow in response to her brazenness. "It's just the tip of the iceberg you are seeing, Kamilla. You do not want to know the rest of it," his voice turned icy cold as he gritted every word. "I'm no angel, Samuel Petrov. I can smell your desire since day one, baby" A suggestive sultry smile carves her lips. "Fuck you, Kamilla. Don't call me baby" she was no longer surprise when he swiftly pulled and pinned her on the couch. "It's dangerous" His ragged hot breath fanned her face, and a rock-hard thing was wedged between them.

I was New York’s golden girl, the perfect princess. But for three years, I loved a monster, Don Damien Costello. I finally got the courage to propose. And I found him kissing another woman, Sophia Marcelli, the princess of our rival family. "I'm bored with you, my perfect little doll. I need a real queen. Sophia is the only one fit to be by my side." All of New York was talking. Damien Costello had tossed me aside. So I moved on, Found another man. Left my old self behind. We kissed in a cramped elevator. I did something I'd never dared to do. I just never expected the doors to open. And there he was. My ex. Don Damien. His face was pure murder.

On Benedict Bradford’s birthday, he posted a link on social media with a taunting offer: [$1.99 buys you a prank—target: Sansa Stormcloud.] So when I arrived at his party, the guests drenched me in water, hurled glasses, smashed cake in my face, and shoved me down the stairs. Benedict sneered as he stood over me, arm slung around Lina Kipling. “You think you’re fit to marry into the Bradfords? Pathetic. “You’re not even in Lina’s league. You’re worth nothing more than a couple of dollars!” I picked myself up, dusted off my dress, and handed him an invitation. “You know, Benedict, the Bradfords have another heir. “And shortly afterwards, you’ll address me respectfully as your sister-in-law.”

She sacrificed everything for him because of the love they had for each other. Hailey went to the extent of disobeying her parents just to marry him. But at last, he surprised her with a divorce paper with his name already signed. How can an orphan who she helped do this to her? He kicked her out of the house she greatly assisted him to build because his first love was back. Of course, she left the house, but then something intriguing happened. ~~~ Excerpt “Congratulations, ma'am. You're pregnant.” Dr. Derrick announced with a smile curving his lips. “What!” Hailey's eyes widened in shock. “ My husband and I just got divorced…”

On the flight to Arlencia, a post popped up: [What's it like to have sex in a wedding dress?] The pic showed a girl yanking some guy's purple tie while he hiked up her gown. His face was blurred, but hers? Straight-up blissed out. Everyone in the comments was swooning over how in love they looked. I didn't swoon. I froze. Because that purple tie? I gave it to Zeke Santoro, my fiancé, a few days ago. And that wedding dress? The exact custom one he had made for me. There was only one. I kept zooming in, heart racing, until I spotted a family photo in the background. My hands were shaking when I called him. "I wanna see the dress," I said. He hesitated. "It's at the studio getting final touches. Not with me right now. I'll show it to you later." I just smiled and hung up. That was all I needed. Zeke cheated—and the girl? His stepsister, Jella. Total circus. I reopened the post and shot her a DM: [Your wedding dress is stunning. I have the same one.]

“You have been promised to the grandson of a business partner. There’s no need for college. You’ve already wasted enough time fooling around at school” My brother's face pulled into a twisted grin. “You are part of the business deal. You wouldn’t want all of the employees who depend on us for their jobs to suffer would you?” That was it, the day my life changed. I couldn’t be selfish, I had to take care of these people, my family, in every way possible. My brother has seen fit to run our late parents' company into the ground, living a lifestyle he didn’t earn. Now I have to marry a complete stranger as part of some twisted business contract. I’m only 18. I just graduated high school. I’ve only had one semi-serious relationship that went up in flames. How was I supposed to be the wife of a very publicized, womanizing billionaire?

The day we were meant to be mated, my Alpha, Ford, was ambushed. Silver bullets shredded his car, sending it plunging off a bridge and into the river below. He was pronounced dead. Drowned. I was left pregnant with his heir, shattered by the raw agony of our severed mate bond. Then Ford's twin, Aiden, returned from abroad with his mate, Kyra. His identical face and a scent so similar to my mate's nearly drove me mad. A desperate part of me swore Ford was still alive. I told myself it was just grief. A widow's delusion. Until I overheard a hushed conversation and the horrifying truth slammed into me: the man pretending to be Aiden was Ford. He had faked his death. He'd let his own brother die in his place, all for Kyra—the other woman carrying his child. The grief that had crippled me instantly morphed into a cold, sharp rage. Ford didn't just break our bond; he shattered it. And I would make him pay. I wiped my tears and sent a single message to my brother, Billy, the Alpha of the Winterstone Pack. "Brother, I need a plane crash. He loves faking his death? Fine. Let him feel what it's like to truly lose a mate." Only when the news of my "death" spread did Ford reclaim his name. He knelt for seven days and nights in the ashes of the home we once shared, consumed by a grief of his own making.

I transmigrated into a trashy, tragic romance as the vicious side character. By the time I arrived, the story had already reached its ending. I had caused the female lead to lose her SAT opportunity, and my two older brothers forced me to my knees. My eldest brother, Lucas Sherman, beat me mercilessly with a stick. He hissed, "Slap yourself 1000 times before you can get up." My older brother, Charlie Sherman, threw a bottle of pesticide at me. He spat, "Someone as vicious as you should just die." I let out a cold laugh and picked up the pesticide bottle, downing it in one gulp. Lucas and Charlie turned pale with shock. "Are you insane? You actually drank it!"