Novel & Cerita Sugar We're Goin Down Swinging Lyrics

Lily was the little sister of my fiancé’s best friend. She was a mistress to a mafia Don—a sugar daddy—until his wife found out, and the clip of Lily getting beaten up ended up on the local news. Yet, somehow, everyone thought the woman getting dragged on TV was me. People at work who never liked me jumped at the chance to pile on. One of them even pointed right at my face and called me shameless. I tried to explain, “My fiancé is Sam Johnson, the CEO of Johnson Group. He’s handsome and ranked third on the Forbes list. Why would I become a mistress to a sugar daddy?” However, no one believed me. If anything, they looked at me like I was even more pathetic. One coworker sneered and pointed to the TV. “You’re not just morally bankrupt; you’re a liar. The CEO’s fiancée? That’s not you.” The TV was playing a breaking news segment titled: First Appearance of Johnson Group CEO’s Fiancée. And there Sam was, arm in arm with Lily, officially announcing their relationship.

Once again, my wife, Claire Winters, stabbed me with a silver needle. A reporter tracked me down and asked, "Louis Sterling, wasn't your wife, Claire, one of the winners of the National Inspiration Awards from ten years ago? She won the reward for saving you during the earthquake and ending up paralyzed from the waist down, right?" I stayed quiet for a moment, then nodded. "Louis, we're from a TV station, and we're producing a tenth anniversary special about the earthquake." I rubbed my arm, which was covered in tiny needle marks, and looked her straight in the eye. I replied, "That's fine, but can you keep the cameras discreet? Claire isn't used to being in front of so many lenses." However, I never expected that on the very first day of the live broadcast, I would be dragged onto the trending charts and torn apart online.

I canceled my ticket to Iceland. Even the customer service agent sounded confused. “There are only two seats left on this flight. Are you sure you want to cancel?” “Yes,” I said. “I’m sure.” We had been together for four years. Every February, he flew to Iceland. He always said it was for a photography project. On social media, he only posted glaciers and the northern lights. Whenever I said I wanted to see the aurora too, he would tell me, “It’s too cold there. You wouldn’t be able to handle it.” Then yesterday, I helped him organize an old hard drive. Inside was an encrypted folder named **February**. When I opened it, every photo was of the same girl standing beneath the same northern lights. The light was soft around her. Even the strands of her hair glowed clearly in the frame. The only photo he had ever taken of me was outside our apartment complex. Backlit. Out of focus. My eyes were squinting, and my entire face was blurred. At the time, he had even laughed and said, “As long as you can tell it’s you, it’s fine.” So it wasn’t that he didn’t know how to take good photos. He just never wanted to take them of me. For four years, he chased the northern lights. And every time, the same person stood beside him. The farthest light I had ever seen was nothing more than an Iceland photo he had posted carelessly online. While I was packing my things, he called me. His voice was rushed. “Weren’t you the one who kept saying you wanted to see the northern lights? Why did you cancel the ticket?” I hung up without answering. Iceland was too far. The aurora was too cold. Since he was never willing to come toward me, I would walk toward the light on my own.

The temperature starts to drop once we reach the top of the mountain. My two childhood friends, who swore to protect me with their lives, don't even spare me a glance. One is hastily wrapping all his clothes around Lisette Locke, while the other is warming her with his body. I'm so cold that my heart condition acts up; I beg them to save me. However, they're infuriated by this. "How can you still be trying to get our attention at a time like this, Cecilia? Run around for a while if you're cold!" "We'll buy you that white down jacket you wanted when we get back, but you can't take it from Lise now!" The rescue team arrives, and I barely make it out alive. I'm hospitalized for a week, but neither of them come to visit me. I see from my social media that they're busy celebrating Lisette's birthday. We've been friends for over a decade, yet I mean nothing when compared to the driver's daughter. I call my father and say, "Dad, "I'm willing to marry into the Jorgensen family!"

My back hit the cold wall of the Alpha’s packhouse, my breath hitched in my throat as the triplets closed in—Asher, Alaric, and Argent. Asher leaned in first, his mouth brushing against my ear. “Sign the contract, Alisha,” he growled. “You’re ours. Your body, soul, and every filthy little sound you make.” I swallowed hard as Alaric’s fingers traced a circle around my swollen areola in an infuriating slow-mo. “See, your body is already responding, stop pretending you don’t want to be ruined by us.” Argent stepped in last, his hand skimming under the hem of my dress. “You’re trembling, sweetheart. Not from fear… but from need. Say the word, and we’ll own every inch of you.” “And if I say no?” my voice was shaky as I bit down the moan crawling up my throat. The three of them exchanged glances and then turned to me. And like a rehearsed lyric, they all unisoned. “Then we make you beg on your knees. And we won’t stop until you forget your own name… just ours.” Asher grabbed my chin, tilting it up. “Last chance, sweetheart. Safe word or surrender.” My lips parted. “I surrender.” That was all they needed. Alaric was behind me instantly, lips on my neck, one hand wrapping around my waist, the other dragging the strap of my dress down torturously slow. “Good girl,” he murmured, his teeth grazing my skin. “You’re ours now.” •••••••• This is not just a love story. It’s survival. And it starts with rejection…

I'm afflicted with a severe phobia related to socializing. Christmas is the one holiday that I fear the most. In order to escape from my relatives' incessant questions, I've spent one year digging up dirty laundry related to every single person in my family. Before going home for the holidays, I've made a secret vow that as long as my relatives don't disturb me, I will definitely keep those skeletons of theirs sealed tightly in their closets. But at the Christmas Eve dinner, these relatives insist on making me their personal doormat. My oldest uncle, Adam Burton, is the first one to start a topic in a passive-aggressive manner. "Hannah, you're not getting any younger, you know. It's one thing to not be able to nail down a job, but what's with your inability to find yourself a boyfriend, hmm? "Look at Quinn. The moment she'd graduated from college, she'd already married a rich scion." I can only smile bashfully before I lower my head and start eating from my plate in an attempt to skip the topic. But my second aunt, Zoe Brown, refuses to let it slide. She begins putting on airs as a senior member of this family while lecturing me. "Stop being so stubborn, Hannah. Adam is doing this for your own good. We're a family at the end of the day; we will never hurt you. You have to listen to our advice. Otherwise, you'll become an old and lonely woman that no one wants as a partner when the time comes." Pfft! "We're a family", she says! I think these relatives of mine just don't want me to live a nice, comfortable life as a single woman! Unable to endure it anymore, I put down my fork and lift my head. Then, I flash everyone an awkward smile. "In that case, Aunt Zoe, why don't you tell me who's more impressive in bed? Was it Uncle Caleb… or Uncle Adam? "Since we're a family, we should be honest with each other, right?"

When I arrived, I saw my husband sitting at a table with Nalani by his side. Was this supposed to be a meeting? Was he seriously introducing me to his mistress? I sat down quietly, my heart heavy. “Eden,” Liam began, his voice calm. “I hope you know why we’re here.” Nalani cut him off with a sharp tone. “Oh, just tell her already.” She looked straight at me, her words cold and deliberate. “I’m carrying Liam’s child, and we’re getting married as soon as possible.” The words hit me hard, but I refused to show how much it hurt. I glanced at Liam, hoping for some sign of remorse, but he just stared at the table. I stood slowly, clutching my purse. “You win,” I said softly. “I’ll sign the papers.”

After getting laid off, I come across a post when I'm looking for a new job. "What sort of job is the most lucrative these days?" There's a comment with the most likes in the comment section. "Find yourself a sugar daddy, duh! My sugar daddy is already the CEO of a company even though he's only in his 30s! He gives me 100 thousand dollars every month. Not only is he handsome and caring, but he's also amazing in bed! Hoo boy, we can keep going around seven times every night!" Someone asks the commentor, "How did you find such an amazing daddy?" "Last May, he was at a bar drinking his sorrows away after an argument with his girlfriend. I consoled him for a bit. That's how we ended up being together. "He kept complaining that his girlfriend was like dead fish in bed, so he was already sick of her a long time ago. You know what men are like, always going for excitement in life." My fingers curled around my phone slightly. Last May, I did get into a huge argument with my boyfriend, Brian Dicht. He never came home that night. The next morning, he returned while reeking of alcohol. I continue scrolling down the comment section, only to see the commentor posting a photo. "See? I was acting all cute and whiny to him just now by telling him that I cut my finger when I was preparing a meal for myself. He agreed to drop by my place to keep me company tonight." In the photo, there's a diamond ring adorning the ring finger that has a plaster wrapped around it. That ring looks exactly the same as the set of engagement rings Brian and I have. At the same time, my phone starts ringing. Soon, Brian's voice drifts from the other end of the line. "Bella, something came up in the company at the last minute. I'm not coming home tonight."

While working with the search and rescue team to save people trapped in an earthquake, an aftershock suddenly struck. Without hesitation, I pushed a hospital intern, Serena, out of the way. However, the force of the movement sent me to the ground, where a steel rod pierced my back, leaving me unable to move. When the aftershock ended, my husband, Derrick, came down with the others. Yet, instead of coming to me, he rushed to cradle Serena, who only had a few scrapes. Then he turned to glare at me. “What are you still sitting there for? Are you dead? Serena’s hurt, and you can’t even help her up?!” I was in so much pain I could barely speak, only able to force out a faint sound. “Honey, I… I’ve got a steel rod in my back… Please… help me.” Serena suddenly burst into tears in fear. “Mr. Nelson, I was so scared. Just now, Ms. Jones pushed me forward. If I hadn’t shifted direction, that huge rock would’ve crushed me!” Derrick, furious, shouted at me. “Gwen! You’re a doctor! What about your ethics? Your humanity?” Tears streamed down my face as I shook my head. “I didn’t. Please, just save me. I really can’t move…” One of the medical team members who came down with him checked my condition and looked worried. “Director Nelson, the steel rod seems to have pierced her spine. If we don’t treat her now, there’s a risk of paraplegia!” However, Derrick yanked him aside. “Save her? Let her walk herself! Gwen, we’re saving lives right now. If you want to act, I’ll put on a show with you when we get home! “Serena’s injured. Since there’s only one stretcher, we’re taking her up. You can walk up on your own.” His cold, departing back left me in utter despair.

I die on my wedding night. When Zachary Gordon receives a call from the police asking him to identify my body, he snorts disdainfully. "Who cares whether she's dead? I'll be there for the funeral." "We're not joking, Mr. Gordon. You should come down here." He glances at the woman in his arms as a hint of impatience flickers in his eyes. "Fine."