Stomach Growled

On the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, Michael Robertson ghosted. I sat outside the County Clerk's Office for hours. Instead of him, I got a pic from his secretary, Kallie Clunt. She was in his lap, arms wrapped around him, making out like it was the hottest scene in a drama. [Sorry, Elsa. Michael said he had to comfort my broken heart. You don't mind, do you?] When I asked him about it, he just looked annoyed. "She gave me blood once. What's the big deal if I hang out with her? Can't you be a little more understanding?" My stomach dropped. I turned away and called his older brother. "Leon, do you still want to marry me?"

On the way to a dance competition, a massive truck rammed into me. My legs were shattered, and my mother was sent flying from the impact after she tried to protect me. My stepbrother, who was also my secret boyfriend of six years, went crazy after hearing the news. He had the driver dragged off to a lawless borderland and called in the best doctors in the country to save me and my mother. Not many people knew, but I was born with a rare sensitivity to pain. The more it hurt, the clearer my mind became. That was how I ended up lying wide awake on the bed, listening to Luke Quinton and his friend, Harvey Lane, talking just outside my hospital room. "Luke, are you sure about this? You really want to let Queenie practice on Natalie's mother's heart?" "She deserves it. That vile woman seduced my father and drove my mother to her death. If not for revenge, do you think I'd stomach being with her daughter for six years? "She should be honored that Queenie is dissecting her heart. Keep it from Natalie for now. If she loses it, she might ruin my wedding with Queenie. What would I do if that happened? The only woman I'll ever have as my wife is Queenie. No one will ever take her place." So, that was the truth. What I thought was a love strong enough to defy the world had been a lie from the very beginning—just a carefully crafted act of revenge.

After six years with Joel, Lyra landed in the hospital—sick and drained. The day she got discharged, she caught something in the hallway she wasn't supposed to hear. "Joel Fenwick, are you out of your mind? You gave Lyra's bone marrow to Renee without telling her? You knew her health was trash and lied about it being a stomach issue just to make her do it?" Renee. Joel's childhood flame. The girl he never got over. Lyra didn't cry. Didn't freak out. She just picked up the phone, called her parents overseas, and said yes to an arranged marriage with the Windsors.

“You are playing with fire," he growled as he pinned her to the wall by the throat, his nose trailing up her neck as he lean close to her. "And you know what happens to those who play with fire," the lust in his eyes was unmistakable. "They get burnt." ********** Salvatore De Rosso, an enigmatic self-made business tycoon, is the renowned owner of the De Rosso Empire. Ruthless, arrogant, cold-hearted and the most wanted bachelor in Marvolia. He is a storm in the business world and no one has ever defeated him as he remains the top one. Yet, there is still one dent in his perfect image. Along with all his titles, Salvatore is also known as a sex freak. Tired of his promiscuous ways, his mother took a drastic step and did what he hated the most. Getting him married. Having just limited time to get her twin sister out of a deep-necked debt, Luciana Marinello would do anything to get her hands on money, even if it involve getting married to the most infuriating man in the whole of Marvolia. She vowed not to be swayed by his charm, yet she can’t ignore the pull of attraction between them. Salvatore watches Luciana like a wolf stalking its prey, she had stepped on his toe the moment she agreed to and for that, she will be punished… Retribution is best served cold, and passionately behind closed doors. He plans to have Luciana on his bed before the end of their contract. Luciana is ready to reject his advances but soon she finds herself sharing his bed, attending glamorous parties and being showered with luxuries. Their vows may be fake, but the heat that ignites behind the closed doors of their mansion is absolutely, wildly, not!

"N-N-No, I'm joining my hands in front of you not today, it hurts a lot." she cried out while joining her hands in front of him. "Come here, fast!!" he commanded her in his authoritative voice making her stomach churn and insides shudder. "N-N-No, please let me go. Don't do this." she cried out loudly when he started to charge towards her. She decided to run in opposite direction in order to save herself but before she could even take a single step away from her place he was standing right in front of her and snatched her scarf away from her. ________ Tears welled up in her eyes because no one has ever talked to her with this much respect and calmness. Moreover, she was shocked too after hearing him talking in her native language which she didn't even expect from him. Ryker Verlice, the most feared mob boss of Ireland. Everyone fears him because of his intimidated and impatient aura. His anger issues are cherry on top. He cares for nothing literally nothing but what happens when a caged and scared beauty catches his eyes? Inaayat, the caged and scared beauty is serving the thakurs since her childhood. She has no identity except the maid of the thakurs. No one knows her because she lives hidden by the thakurs. They have broken her to the extent that she couldn't trust anyone but what will happen when an unknown intimidating man will start standing up for her?

What happens when a wedding planner has to work alongside a temperamental and annoying bride's brother to plan the wedding of the year? Chaos, pure chaos. The last thing Violet needed was a man to touch her slightly not so flat stomach (or perhaps it was a little more than slightly not to flat) and press her against a wall. She wasn't a model, and she knew it. So naturally, she just sucks her stomach in. Violet prided herself on creating the best weddings society has ever seen, the last thing she needed was to go head to head with the bride's brother, when planning Melbourne's biggest wedding of the year. Alex was everything Violet could dream about, but not touch. Handsome, built straight out of a magazine with the six pack. Was his interest in Violet genuine, or just another charm for the bedrest?

The train to Centraford was about to depart. That was the ride we'd spent our entire life savings—30 thousand bucks—to get a ticket for. I was gripping my mate, Byron Reynolds's, hand tightly, trying to pull him onto the last train to Centraford. This was the chance I'd waited three long years for. Once we entered Centraford, we could rise from being low-tier civilian werewolves to official Silvren Talons workers—registered, salaried, and numbered. If we missed this train, we'd be stuck forever in Sidersville, a chaotic melting pot, never able to enter the heart of the werewolf city-state. But Byron held us back, refusing to leave without Lisa Peters, who was still down by the river, washing her face. In the very last second before the train took off, I had our friends forcibly drag Byron aboard. We made it to Centraford and became Silvren Talons workers. But Lisa missed her chance. She was left behind in Sidersville and became a rogue, a plaything passed around by countless men. A few years later, she was tortured to death. Byron looked fine on the surface. But on the day of our marking ceremony, he drove a silver blade into my stomach, killing the pup growing inside me, and tore out my heart. His eyes burned red as he growled through clenched teeth, "This is all your fault. You're the reason Lisa never made it to Centraford. "She suffered so much before she died. Why do you get to be happy?" After killing me, he chopped my body up and fed it to the stray dogs. Then I opened my eyes—and found myself right back at the train station, before it departed. This time, I'd wait with him for the woman he loved so much. And I'd make him pay for everything he did to me and my pup.

I did not get pregnant in the five years that I was married to Julian Gunter. He claimed that there was something wrong with his body and asked me not to leave him. But one day, I was sent to the hospital because of a stomach ache and continuous bleeding. A nurse came in and gave me an injection. She muttered impatiently, “Can’t you hold yourself back? You’re pregnant, but you had such vigorous love making. It serves you right that you lost your baby.” I endured the pain and walked out. “Mr. Gunter wanted Mrs. Gunter to have a permanent contraceptive injection after her fifth miscarriage. Don’t worry. Mr. Gunter has a way around it.” “The heir of Gunter Group can only be Mr. Jack Gunter.” Jack was the son of Julian’s sister-in-law.

"Finders keepers," Deangelo growled, his voice all sharp edges. "I found her first, commoners, she belongs to me. The only reason she's still breathing is because I saved her from that fucking fire." Romano snorted, pushing his way further inside. "You think you can just claim her like that? She's not a damn trophy, Scorpion." Fernando gave a series of hand gestures in sign language. Deangelo translated, "You may have found her, but that does not make her yours. We have a stake here, Papi." Vincenzo's voice cut like a knife through the tension. "This isn't some playground game. She's a person, not a prize to be fought over?" As their voices rose, they suddenly fell silent, snapping their eyes to Rosita. She was rushing towards the door. DeAngelo's eyes narrowed as he took a step towards her. "Little peasant, don't even think about it." **** Rosita's life has been anything but ordinary. Homeschooled and sheltered by her overprotective father after a near-fatal stalking incident, she dreams of escaping to college and pursuing her passion for music. But her father's plans to enroll her in an online university leave her feeling trapped and desperate. On the day, she finally decides to away, a fire overtakes their home, trapping her in her room. Just when she thinks all hope is lost, her metal door is broken down—not by her father, but by Deangelo Luis Valladares, the most-feared mafia drug lord in the whole of Mexico. With an intriguing, sinister smile, he extends his hand to Rosita through the smoke-filled room. Will Rosita take his hand and let him save her, or will she be taken by force? Can a breathtaking beauty like Rosita survive in a world ruled by mafia dons who live like kings and control Mexico City?

"Did you think I’d just let you go?" Suzanne’s grip on her son tightened as Charles took a slow step forward, his smirk curling like smoke in the air. "I sent you the damn divorce papers, Charles. Sign them and leave." He chuckled. "Oh, I got them." Another step. "But I don’t sign away what’s mine." She backed up. "I am not yours. I stopped being yours the night you betrayed me." His jaw clenched. The silence stretched—thick, suffocating—before he lunged. Suzanne barely had time to gasp before his hands were on her, ripping their son from her arms. The boy hit the couch with a soft thud and let out a startled cry. "You son of a—!" She shoved at him, clawing, struggling, but he was stronger. His hands dug into her waist, yanking her against him, his breath hot and reeking of alcohol. "You’re mine, Suzanne," he growled, fingers digging into her skin. "And if I can’t have you—" his grip tightened, his lips brushing her ear, "no one will." Then—CRACK! Charles gone—ripped off her, sent flying across the room. Suzanne gasped, chest heaving, scrambling back just as her attacker crashed into a table. A voice, dark and furious, sliced through the chaos. "Touch her again, and I’ll kill you." Her heart stopped. She knew that voice. Liam Carter. --- Trapped in a loveless marriage to a ruthless CEO, Suzanne Smith thought she had no way out—until Liam Carter, her high school sweetheart, walked back into her life. He’s everything her husband isn’t—kind, passionate, and willing to fight for her. But leaving Charles Langford won’t be easy. His Lies. Betrayal. Violence. Will she escape his grip, or will her past consume her? How far will she go for freedom?