Story About David

His first love barged into my office and stood before me, mocking, "He doesn't love you at all." I rolled my eyes. "I don't know whether he loves me, but I am Mrs. Brooke now. And who are you, exactly?" I was surprised that there was still someone so clueless in this day and age. Marriage was all about mutual benefit; the idea of love was downright ridiculous. To me, Noah was just a means to an end—a tool that would double my worth. I had never taken him seriously.

In the fashion industry, I was known as the most mysterious designer. I worked hard to keep my identity from the public. As I stood at the top of business, I was invited to be the secret judge of the Innovating Design Competition’s final round. The organizer reserved a VIP seat for me in the middle of the front row and ensured that my presence would not be revealed. Just when I was about to sit down, a new male influencer pushed me aside and threw his hand bag onto my seat. “What are you looking at, bumpkin? How dare you show up at the VIP section dressed like a beggar? Where’s the security? Throw this person out!” I swallowed back my anger and replied coldly, “This seat was reserved for me.” The influencer laughed. “Yours? Do you know who I am? Ms. Reid spent eighty million dollars in sponsorship to get me to come here! Ms. Reid has the final say in this industry. Do you understand me?” I could only scoff at him. How bold of the Reid family! Did they really think they could make this kind of decision without consulting me?

Emma Blanton twists her ankle, and my fiance, Matthew Harrison, insists on becoming her personal chauffeur. When I voice my disapproval, he makes an even more outrageous decision. He moves Emma into my apartment at Bellemont District—the apartment I bought with my own money. He argues like he's the victim, "You're being selfish. She's injured, and living alone is too dangerous for her right now. I'm just being a decent human being. "And that place is sitting empty anyway. Having someone there helps with security." On the morning we were supposed to get our marriage certificate, he doesn't show up. I call, expecting apologies. Instead, I hear, "Emma had a fever this morning—101 Fahrenheit. I had to take her to urgent care. We can postpone getting the marriage certificate. Her health can't wait." To hell with postponing! I grab my phone and call David Rockefeller. "Do you want to marry me? Then get to City Hall. I'm serious—right now."

Over five years I’ve lived a bittersweet lie as David Hargrove’s kept woman, Maria Bell. David’s shown no interest in me beyond what he wants. Love’s a bitter pill to love when it's not returned. I'm bought and paid for. Kept in a gilded cage. David suspects nothing of the secrets I hold. Tonight, David announced he’s marrying my stepsister. He doesn’t know. The level of betrayal I’ve experienced is unbelievable. Everything becomes complicated as the lies surface. Leaving and facing it alone are my only choices. I’m living in fear as I pick up pieces of a life, I believed lost. Blackmail, sabotage, and intrigue dog my steps. I don’t know who I can trust or how to win. I won’t surrender without a fight this time. They don’t recognize me. They won’t see me coming. My name is David Hargrove, and someone is trying to destroy my family. I must marry my rival’s daughter. His stepdaughter signed the contract. Before we learned, she couldn’t deliver the Belgrave empire to me. She can help me secure my family’s empire as my fiancée. I need the ugly biological daughter, Maria Belgrave, who’s hiding. Things get confusing. Maria Belgrave sent two women to represent her. One is my Maria. My missing woman. The betrayal and conflict of interest still stand. I will say when our contract has ended. How can I work with her? I know nothing about her. She owes me answers and loyalty. Perhaps I’ll use this to my advantage. When David learns of Maria’s past life. Will he help her? Or use her and take over the business himself? It starts with an engagement and the death of a patriarch.

My best friend asked me to conduct a blood test on her before she got married to the richest man in the city. That was how I found out that she had AIDS. Due to patient confidentiality and her claim that her fiance would not mind, I did not tell him about her diagnosis. Later on, he contracted AIDS as well. When this happened, my best friend went online and pointed the finger at me. “Maya Sullivan intentionally kept the results of my blood test a secret. That’s why my husband got AIDS. It’s all her fault!” Even my boyfriend added fuel to the fire. “This isn’t the first time Maya has set Pearl up. She only got AIDS because Maya used an infected needle to take her blood sample!” No matter how much I insisted otherwise, everyone kept hounding me about it. To avoid the fallout, I was forced to move myself and my parents to another city to start fresh. However, in a fit of rage, Pearl’s husband crashed into our car and killed all of us. He was later sentenced to death, so Pearl inherited all of his assets. She then lived in luxury with my boyfriend. When I opened my eyes again, I discovered that I had gone back in time. It was the day that Pearl had undergone her health checkup.

David Romano CEO muda yang tampan dan mapan, sayang sekali pernikahannya yang sudah berjalan hampir 6 tahun belum juga mendapatkan keturunan. Tes kesuburan menyatakan David mandul. Tetapi ,tanpa sengaja ia dan Lilian sekretarisnya terlibat kisah cinta satu malam karena mabuk. Liliana hampir saja bunuh diri karena kehilangan kehormatannya. Tetapi, Nadine, istri David menyelamatkannya dan berniat memanfaatkan situasi. Sebulan kemudian, Liliana ternyata hamil dan David tau jika ia tidak mandul sebenarnya. Hal ini juga yang membuat sebuah rahasia besar terungkap. Apa yang akan dilakukan oleh David setelah rahasia besar itu terungkap?

My husband, Luca, had a childhood sweetheart named Sophia. Years ago, during a brutal gang shootout, Sophia shielded him from the worst of the bloodshed, and since then, she had suffered from severe PTSD. Because of that, Luca would push aside family business every year and fly to our estate on a secluded island off the coast of Sicily to spend three months “helping her recover.” “Victoria, she lost her mind because of me,” he told me. “I’m responsible for her. I hope you can be magnanimous.” So, I nodded. And eventually, I got used to the fact that every year, my husband would disappear for three months to fulfill what he called a moral obligation. That was until the day I flew in without warning to inspect the family’s money-laundering network on that island and saw him. In the town square, under the bright Mediterranean sun, Luca was standing there with a five-year-old boy by his side. “Papa, how long do we have to hide on this island?” the child asked. “I want to go to New York. I want to see the Empire State Building.” Luca laughed gently and scooped him up in his arms. With his other hand, he held Sophia’s. “Antonio, be good,” he said affectionately. “Papa’s position is… complicated. When you turn eighteen and pass the family’s initiation ceremony, I’ll kill that woman and her dead old man. Then, I’ll take you back to New York to inherit the entire Corleone family.” I stood in the shadows, unseen. Slowly, I lit a cigarette. The smoke curled around me as their voices drifted over, the conversation getting more vicious as it went. Sophia leaned into his chest, her tone sweet and coy. “Luca, I’ve been with you for seven years without a name or a title. How much longer are our son and I supposed to live like ghosts?” Luca sighed. “I don’t have a choice. The old man in the Corleone family is still alive. I married Victoria just to get her territory. Don’t worry. I’ve been adding something to her milk every day. She’ll never get pregnant in this lifetime. My family bloodline will only continue through you.” The last thread of reason in my mind snapped. In the six years of marriage we shared, I had been infertile. I’d taken countless hormone injections to stimulate ovulation. I’d knelt in church and prayed more times than I could count. Yet, all along, the devil poisoning me was my own husband. The initial shock faded quickly into rage. I crushed out my cigarette and pulled out my phone. Then, I dialed my uncle, the family’s clean-up man. “Uncle Rocco,” I said calmly, “Luca betrayed me. He betrayed the family. Order a coffin in the finest black walnut for me, and make it large, large enough to fit a family of three.”

My husband only lasts a minute each time. As a mature woman in my thirties, I often find myself lying awake at night, feeling like something is missing from my life. That is, until I met a rugged, muscular mechanic while getting my car repaired. Watching his strong muscles flex beneath his tank top awakened a desire I hadn’t felt in a long time. Our brief, intense encounter left me overwhelmed with emotions I couldn’t control. Just as things were about to go too far, I pushed him away, not wanting to make a mistake. But then I discovered that my husband had already been cheating on me with our pregnant neighbor. So, maybe I should just...

On the night my dad kicked me out, I drank too much and slept with my “brother” It was a one night mistake. Yet, he proposed and claimed me as his mate, his luna. When I woke up, my mom's body was cold. The color was drained from her half-opened eyes, and I could see no signs of life. My father told me that she purposely drank poison to kill herself. But that was a lie. My mother would never kill herself; she would never leave me. That night imprisoned me. - “It wasn’t a mistake,” “What are you talking about, Jonathan?” I asked him. “Arina, you are my mate. You were born to be my luna,” he said. His face showed no signs of humor. “I wasn’t born to be anybody’s luna,” I shot back. “Arina, I love you…” he spoke softly, still staring into my eyes. I could feel the wolf in me stirring; something that I had never felt before. She was awakening; the fire that burned so deep inside of me was beginning to flare. “Love?” I heard myself saying. “There’s no such thing as love…” After everything I knew about “love”, what my mother went through when she married my father, love didn’t exist. “Give me a chance to prove you wrong. Marry me.”

It all began with a single post about canceling a food delivery order. Overnight, I became the internet's punching bag. Thousands of vicious messages flooded my inbox, filled with photoshopped memorials urging me to die. They doxxed my family, plastered my personal details across shady websites, and used AI to create obscene images of me, spreading them in vile chat groups. They spread lies about my income, claiming it came from illicit sources, and accused me of carrying diseases. I didn't call the police or block the messages. Instead, I read every hateful word before singling out the 100 worst offenders. Every day, I sent each one a luxurious meal: Boston lobster, Australian wagyu, the works. Each delivery came with a simple note: [Thank you for your hard work.]