Steve Buscemi In Pulp Fiction

before all man can remember, monsters roam our lands, special group of people named keepers has known the history of how monsters were vanquished and removed from our world. all monsters are now fiction, can be read in books and heard in legends, however, another group of people seeks chaos and want to free these monsters known only from our books and legends.

Elaine Smith gave ten years of her life to a man who never chose her. On the night she lost her unborn child, her husband ran to another woman, again. Humiliated, divorced, and branded barren by the media, Elaine disappears from society… only to return as the contract wife of Steve Greyson—the most feared billionaire in New York. Their marriage is fake. Their alliance is strategic. Their enemies are powerful. But when revenge turns into desire, and secrets begin to surface; hidden pregnancies, corporate conspiracies, and deadly betrayals, Elaine must decide if she will use love as a weapon… or risk her heart one last time.

My car was passing by the entrance of the office when I saw both my sisters 'wrestling' vigorously with a bum. I wasn't surprised, however, even recording a video of it and sending it to the biggest news outlet of the country, saying, "I want it seen across the world before 7pm." After all, in my last life, those two sisters were so keen to please Harold Langford that they allowed him to steal my birthright all he wanted. I bore with it because they were family, and ended up resting in pieces. But now that I had a second chance, I would return the favor. At the company gala, Harold once again took my seat as he snorted at me haughtily. "Hmph! If Ellie and Jennie didn't insist on showing you how the world works, a poor college student like you wouldn't even make it through the front door!" "Know your place and don't cause me trouble, or they will have you beaten to a pulp!" Seeing that he was still running his mouth, I kicked him three feet away as I chuckled. "Who do you think you are? How dare you strut when you're just a gigolo who only knows how to please hags!"

My husband's first love posted a video on her social media. In the video, the two of them were passing a playing card with their lips. When the card fell, their lips met in a kiss. They didn't stop—lost in the moment, they kissed passionately for an entire minute. Her caption read: [Still the same clumsy piggy! PS: Steve's skills are as good as ever!] I quietly liked the post and left a comment: [Congrats.] The next second, my husband called, yelling at me furiously, "No other woman is as dramatic as you! I was just playing a game with Lanie. Why are you acting crazy again?" It was then that I realized seven years of love meant nothing. It was time for me to leave.

When I was seven years old, a handsome man Mom brought home gave me a box of mangoes. That day, Dad watched me happily eating the mangoes as he signed his name on the divorce agreement. Then, he jumped to his death. From that day on, mangoes became a lifelong nightmare for me. So, on our wedding day, I told my wife, Irene Johnson, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." She held me without saying a word. From that moment on, mangoes became forbidden for her as well. … On the fifth Christmas Eve after we got married, Irene's childhood sweetheart, Steven Carter, placed a mango on her desk. That same day, she announced that she was cutting ties with him and fired him from the company. That day, I felt that she was the woman destined for me. ... Six months later, I return from overseas after closing a billion-dollar deal. At the celebration dinner, Irene hands me a drink. After I drink half of it, Steven, the man who was kicked out of the company, stands behind me and grins. "Is the mango juice good?" he asks. I look at Irene in disbelief, but she is holding back a laugh. "Don't be mad. Steve insisted I play a joke on you. I didn't give you a mango, just a bottle of its juice. "But I think Steve is right. There's something wrong with you for not eating mangoes. Look at how much you enjoyed it just now!" she says. I keep a cold expression, raise my hand, and splash the remaining mango juice onto her face. Then, I turn and walk away. Some things are never a joke. Mangoes aren't, and neither is my decision to divorce.

May mga islang hindi mo mahahanap sa mapa. At may mga gabi na hindi kailanman pwedeng ikuwento. Siya—isang dalagang nangangarap ng katahimikan. Siya—isang lalaking matagal nang ginugupo ng mga alaala. Isang gabi. Isang kasunduan. Isang halik na hindi na mabubura. Akala nilang pareho, panandalian lang ang lahat. Hanggang sa lumitaw ang katotohanang kay tagal nang itinatago—at may isang pangalan na hindi dapat banggitin sa isla. Sa Euphoria, lahat may presyo. At ang ilang halik… may kapalit na buhay. This story involves themes of luxury companionship, sex work, and high-profile desire—served with a shot of fiction and a twist of imagination. Rated R18+ All characters, events, and situations in this story are purely fictional and stem from the author’s imagination. Any similarities to real people, stories, or existing works—published or unpublished—are entirely coincidental and unintentional. This story is a personal creation meant to explore unique emotional and psychological journeys. It is not intended to imitate, copy, or reflect the narrative or structure of any other existing work. Please respect the author’s creative freedom, and enjoy this story for what it is: a work of fiction born from heart, imagination, and curiosity.

Murder Inquiry is a crime fiction, whose plot is about Edwin Wolfgang, a rich New York based banker, who gives out loans for which he accepts artworks as collateral, but kills his customers before they are able to pay back the loan. And a FBI agent attached to the New York field office, who's charged with the task of bringing Mr Wolfgang to book. The story is set in three cities, in three different continents, and is full of twists and turns from the killing of Wolfgang's last two victims, up to his eventual arrest.

Serene Gomez's life is more like a mess, how does she cope with a gambling father, a mentally unstable mother, and a sick little brother. Her life was riddled with piled-up debts that she must settle. The ones who should stand by her side were her greatest downfall. All she wanted was to settle her debts and live peacefully but upon encountering him, her plans crumbled... Steve Jobbs, a thirty-two-year-old billionaire who was under the pressure of his grandfather to get married and have an heir. The young CEO only have his business at heart and nothing more. The affairs of love was useless to him. To abide by his grandfather's will, he also needed to find a woman... With the contract between them, can love happen?

"Stop… please stop… There are too many of you. You'll break me." On the bus back to the village, three rugged men from my hometown spread my legs apart and tore a hole right through the middle of my stockings. Steve Axwell, who lived opposite, said lecherously. "Kendall, I've watched you grow up. Let me check if you've started growing hair down there yet." Under the gaze of those big, strong men, I felt a mix of ache and itch. I couldn't stop myself from getting wet. "You're this soaked, and you've never been with a man? Don't worry—today, we're going to satisfy you real good."

At a gathering, I discover that the guy my best friend, Rachel Jost, secretly has a crush on has slipped something into her drink. When he brings the glass over to her, I deliberately knock it over, spilling the spiked wine and saving her life. He storms out in anger. The very next day, he announces his engagement to someone else. Rachel comes to me in a rage, convinced that I sabotaged her out of jealousy. "Stella Leigh, if you hadn't interfered, I would've already slept with him! The one he wants to marry would've been me! You just couldn't stand seeing me happy! You ruined my shot at love, so you'll pay for it with your life!" She pushes me off a high building. I fall to my death, my body reduced to a pulp that is beyond recognition. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day of that gathering. Rachel is sitting next to me, stealing adoring glances at the man across from her. The next moment, she turns to glare at me and warns me not to meddle with vicious eyes. Seems like she is reborn, too. But what she doesn't know is that the man she secretly loves has always despised her for being obsessed with him. What he added to that glass of wine isn't some aphrodisiac—it is something that can kill her.