Spoil My Sweet Widow Novels & Stories

Already she felt as if she had a neon sign blinking over her head: Fake Sorcerers Thank God, Levy hadn’t realized the truth. And wasn’t the other mistress a shocker? Short, squat, and foaming-at-the-mouth-rabies mean. Awfully. If the Wicked Witch of the West had sex with Mr. Bean and John Cena, and the two of them had a baby, that child’s name would be Levy. Pay attention to what’s happening around you, Grace! Right. Grace, concentrate. She gazed, stunned, as one of the wardens cleaned James from head to toe and the other oiled him.

"Bingo. I had attacked you system and got your attention. While you were busy I managed to get all the information I need but you had also layed a trap for us. You had uploaded a virus on our systems." "Yes I had first just wanted to see what you would do at first but the game had become a little boring so I just sent one of my viruses to stop you mid way." "But I still managed to out smart you in this little game of ours." "Well I appreciate someone smart and even better when he can outsmart me." "Nice I didn't think you could do all this in a matter of hours. You've really outsmarted me." "Before we are done were you the one who made the poison that killed those man didn't you."

She was his responsibility now—they were his responsibility now. "I love you, Axel Griffin." She muttered, a lone tear rolling down her cheeks at the realization of how extremely lucky she was to be Axels Woman. How extremely lucky she was to be Axel’s wife! And she knew that, without a doubt, she was going to love him until her last breath. "I love you too, Reese McBride.” He muttered, then lifted his hand up and wiped the tears rolling down her cheeks with his thumb. “Always and forever.” THE END.

Motefalco Corporation called a meeting early, led by Mary her witch evil sisters, who was just sitting as the newly elected CEO since they thought that Maria was dead and Mr. Montefalco is still resting with her spouse in the states. A little, because she is no longer happy with the declining sales of their market in the past week. She was a bit alarmed as to who was fighting them. While she was killing her time, her dad's secretary, Paulina, who is now somehow recovering from his mild stroke, entered. "Paulina, have you seen the company's new sales inventories?" she asked while browsing through the documents she had read already. She couldn't find the documents she was looking for. The last

Thank you all for always supporting “Sweet Treachery”. I couldn’t have asked for better fans. I love you all!!! I rush to the window to catch a glimpse Of how life used to be wonderful How there were no worries and I was at ease I had my family’s love in full But all I see is the tears of the moon In the form of dew And the life which I once knew Is now a poor shadow of itself PenaciousShewa

" I replied to her. "Clearly, baby girl, it's your ex-husband and your stepsister," she said to me, excitedly. This whole release and the downfall of Silas was one of Dora's favourite things at the moment. I think it was the only thing that made her extremely happy. "Really!" I asked her as I grabbed my phone and checked if what she was saying was true. As I checked, I noticed she wasn't lying. Finally, the downfall of Silas is working as planned.

“Liam you don’t understand, you have to think clearly. The man who killed your parents is almost dead and is counting on his last breaths. His two right hands were executed by you yourself. Don’t you think it’s enough?” “No it’s not enough!” he shouted and then buried his face in his palms. “Are you crying?” I asked in astonishment. Oh my God, he was actually crying. Liam Lautner was crying. “I should call Cassie” “No wait, don’t tell her that her Mafia husband is weeping like a kid demanding for an ice cream” he chuckled and wiped his tears. “Look Liam, you are one of the luckiest persons on earth. You’ve got Cassie beside you as your wife. You should be very thankful to God.” He held his h

Domenik moved—closer, never touching, but every inch of him a barrier. “She’s not leaving with you.” The Widow tilted her head. “I never asked her to.” She leaned in, low enough for only Eirwen to hear: “Find me when you’re tired of letting men decide your price.” Then, louder, almost bored: “Run.” A crack split the stairwell. Gas hissed again. The Widow turned and was gone—slipping into the storm, a ghost made real by reputation alone. Chaos crashed back in. Boots. Orders. Guns primed for war.