Something In The Wind

At a dinner party, my genius painter of a husband, Henry Shepherd, used his hands, hands insured for millions, to shell crabs for his young assistant, Tamara Lee. This was all to coax her into eating a few bites when she claimed she had no appetite. Meanwhile, I drank myself into a bloody mess, trying to secure investments for him. When I asked him to hand me some antacids, he refused without even looking up. “These hands are for painting. Use your own.” For ten years, he couldn’t even be bothered to change the way he treated me. That night, as I sobered up in the cold wind, I asked my lawyer to draft a divorce agreement. "Henry, in this vast, chaotic world, our paths end here," I said inwardly

“It’s about midnight, the cool and gentle breeze will be blowing by now. I remember setting my bound hair loose to feel the soft but harsh power of the wind, sending cold shivers down my nape; the blinding bright lights illuminating the street would be lit. What about the big mansions? Situated right beside the lone empty road. So sad I can’t see or feel any of that; these great white-cornered walls would not stop me from reminiscing the beauty of taking a night walk; "who would have thought, this beautiful street conceded an Asylum?!" Emilia Vilia-Rosario was dragged into rivalry and a revenge war between,The Pedro's and her family. She was tricked into signing a contracted marriage proposal to Mariano Douglas Pedro, the billionaire heir to Pedro's Fortune.

Calista Ivy Castillo made a huge mistake by accidentally entering an alternate world where she doesn't belong; it may have the same name as her country, but it's totally different from where she came from, from its cultures down to its places. It all started one night when Calista saw a lady who looked precisely like her from head to toe, and for no apparent reason, they both couldn't stop themselves from attacking one another when their eyes locked. Calista killed her doppelganger from another world by accident. And with a single gust of wind, she finds herself in another world-the world of a woman she murdered. In the blink of an eye, she transforms into a princess who must marry a cold but attractive prince named Theodore Mason Fuentes in order to save their kingdom.

Layne needs to pay off the hunter who is threatening to sell her dad off to the highest bidder. One year, one million dollars. How does she plan to do it? By working as a for-hire mate at her auntie's high-end mate (escort) service. Easy enough to spend a little less than one month each with a man who she doesn't have to sleep with if she doesn't want to, right? With never-ending love for her dad and writing off love with anyone else, this beautiful bombshell plans to throw caution to the wind and sign up for the ride of a lifetime for the next year. Get in, make money to save dad, get out. Keep her head in the game and her heart out of it. That's the game plan. How hard can it be to stick to it?

In the final seven days after I decided to depart for good, I transformed into the daughter my family had always dreamed of. I conceded to Remy's every whim, never to fight or deny her. When she wanted to use my work for a contest, I deferred. When she wanted me out in the frost and howling wind, I did just that. My quiet compliance led my family to think that I had learned the error of my ways. "You've finally accepted that you owe Remy so much, and that you have to compensate her!" Even until the end, they never understood why I couldn't care less. "Fiona, why aren't you saying anything?" To that, I could only smile. "Isn't this what you've always wanted?"

After transmigrating into a novel, I realized the heroine and I had the exact same name. Naturally, I thought I had transmigrated into the female lead. So I marched straight to the man who was still a broke nobody at the time, threw all caution to the wind, and pounced on him like I had plot armor protecting me. He even glared at me with red eyes and told me he hated me. I honestly thought he was just into the whole push-and-pull thing. Everything shattered when the real heroine showed up and I finally understood one thing. He actually hated me. Heartbroken, I packed my bags and got ready to disappear. The next second, he pinned me against the wall. "Where are you going? Already bored of me, sweetheart?"

On the day Yara Cullen was released from prison, it was raining. A chilly wind carried the drizzle, striking her as the media swarmed the prison gates. "Ms. Cullen, in the Crestwood Estate sexual assault case, your client lost the lawsuit and took her own life six months ago. Her mother is demanding accountability. Do you have anything to say?” "Ms. Cullen, your attorney's license has been revoked, and your mentor was forced to retire. What are your thoughts on this?" No matter how the reporters pressed, Yara kept her head down and pushed forward, forcing her way through the crowd. A black G-Wagon was parked by the roadside, where Westley Langston leaned against the car, smoking a cigarette. Beside him, Elena Cullen tugged at his arm. He turned, glancing toward the prison gates.

Zoey Prince was a good girl. A girl with impressive goals. Goal Number One: Finish her bachelor's before age 21 - Tick Goal Number Two: Begin her Master’s by age 22 - Tick Goal Number Three: Get married to the love of her life by 25 - Not Quite On the day her Master’s program began, she discovered that the man she’d spent the past four years loving was cheating on her with her best friend, his excuse being that she was boring and by the books, and he needed someone fun. Zoey was shattered. Throwing caution to the wind, Zoe decided to prove to herself that she was not a boring person. She went on an escapade and this led her into the arms of the one man that promised to make her life a living hell. Professor Simon Beaumont. Simon Beaumont was a menace. At thirty-three, he’d achieved a feat his peers hadn’t achieved half of. Feat: Become a professor by twenty-eight - Tick Feat: Become a billionaire before thirty-five - Tick Feat: Get over his divorce from his ex-wife - Not Quite When his student, Zoey Prince got on his nerves, he was determined to make her life a living hell. When life threw her into his arms, he pushed, but soon he came to realize something: They both needed each other. Zoey would help him get over his messy divorce, and he would teach things about her body. … “Zoey, a man as impure as me shouldn’t be with someone as chaste as you. I’m a sinner before man, and before God.” Simon muttered as Zoey dry-humped him, placing her hands on his neck, her fingernails digging into the flesh of his nape. “I don’t care, professor. Just claim me as yours.” She whimpered into his ear.

When my best friend died, his wife, Mia Lewis, was eight months pregnant. Mia said she didn't want her baby growing up without a father. I owed my best friend my life. He saved me, literally pulled me from death's door. So I stepped up, marrying Mia and raising their son as my own. Mia loved her career, so I quit mine. Traded my job for diapers and school runs. For seven whole years, I cooked, cleaned, folded laundry, and handled the housework. Rain or shine, sickness or health, I was there—every single day. Mia, though? She stayed cold, distant. Her warmth only surfaced in the bedroom—and even then, it was a flicker, never a flame. Just soft sighs and breathy murmurs, like she was playing a role she couldn't wait to finish. Afterward, she would quietly check the condom, as if she couldn't trust me. Then came New Year's Eve. A snap. A tear. A broken condom. Her fury struck like a thunderclap. She locked me out on the balcony, left me standing in the freezing rain, soaked to the bone as the wind howled like a wounded beast. Teeth chattering, I shivered as I watched the door like a dog, waiting to be let in. Then I saw him. Our boy, Ethan Bailey. Six years old. My son, at least in name. He came running with an umbrella in his hand. For a second, my heart leapt. 'Maybe, just maybe…' But he didn't even look at me. Just walked past in silence and handed the umbrella to the nanny heading out. Right then and there, something inside me cracked. I knew it was time to go.

On the day before New Year's Eve, I didn't shut the window all the way, and my little sister sneezed. My parents kicked me out and ordered me to collect firewood in the dark. Inside, the family crowded around her, laughing as they handed her presents. I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I slung the basket onto my back before heading into the mountains through the wind and snow. I didn't find any firewood. I found a man instead. His leg was wedged in a crack between rocks, bloody enough to scare me. When he saw me, he said in a hoarse voice, "Get me out of here, girl. I can give you whatever you want." I looked up at him, my eyes finally focusing. "Really? Then I want you to be my dad."