Table Saw Blade Stop

Fauz Zlan, Alpha of the Pacesetters Pack, was forced into a political union with Nora Brooks. His parents claimed she was his fated mate, but he'd never met her, and saw it as a strategic alliance. Complications arose when he discovered Nora was seeing Alpha Pitman, leader of the rival Dreamers Pack. The two packs were mortal enemies. During the mating ceremony, Alpha Fauz realized that Nora was truly his fated mate. He laid claims on her and marked her in rage not love, igniting a union built on suspicion, and dangerous misunderstandings. Can their fated bond overcome the weight of politics, rivalry, and a manipulative she-wolf who would stop at nothing until she get what she wanted?

The old saying goes, “You may feel good mistreating your spouse, but trying to win them back will be a laborious task.”Before the divorce, Michael saw Ivanka as a heartless, self-serving woman who would stop at nothing to reach her goals. But after the split, the man who once declared that “falling in love makes you a fool” became the fool himself. “Marry me, honey. I love you,” he pleaded. “Marry me, honey. I’m sorry,” he begged. “Marry me, honey. I’ll make it up to you for the rest of my life,” he promised. Ivanka simply retorted, “Would you please stop following me around? You’re driving me crazy. Are you a dog or what?” To this, Michael replied, “I’m your lapdog, honey. I’ll only bark for you.”Ivanka smirked. As a successful lawyer, renowned physician, and elite hacker, why would she ever consider remarrying this worthless man and becoming his caretaker once again?“I won’t remarry you, you b*stard. Stay away from me,” she declared.

After Celine Anderson let her newly-promoted assistant take credit for my billion-dollar project for the ninth time, I handed in my resignation letter. I also refused to show up in the same place as her. Whenever she was interviewed by talk shows as a public figure, I would switch off all the screens in the building. I also got the security guard to stop her from entering even if she brought me a cup of coffee in the middle of a tornado. To see me, she purposely rescheduled three virtual meetings with foreign companies. So, I immediately bought air tickets to leave the country. I blocked her everywhere and formatted the hard disk that contained all of our memories from the past decade. When I was twenty, I studied with her in the university library. When I was twenty-five, I ate the cheapest bread with her when she first started her company. When I was thirty, I finally knew how to let go of things that no longer serve me. On the ninth time I was accused of sleeping my way up, I came across a photo of her and her assistant kissing. Meanwhile, I was sitting at our dining table with food that had turned cold. It turned out that our decade-long relationship had been a joke. However, it was fine. It was not too late to come to my senses.

" me." The words slipped out of her , past her lips, before she could do anything about it. Lancelot's eyes widened. He saw a golden ring form around Ziko's eyes; that was not a good sign. "What did you say?" She took one step towards him, slowly closing the gap between them. He wished she'll stop, still he wished she wouldn't. She didn't say anything, she just continued to walk towards him. Did she really know what she was getting herself into? Lancelot thought to control himself. He wasn't going to lose himself to her, he would have a shower and the bulging in his pants would reduce. Roxanne planted herself in front of Lancelot, she could feel his eyes burn through her skin. She wanted him now, and despite the indifferent look he tried to put up, the growth in his pants said otherwise; he wanted her too. "I said..." She placed a hand on his cheek. Lancelot's eyes fell to her lips and lingered there, so he saw them form the next words that came out of her mouth. " me." Ziko growled within him. He saw her bite her lower lip faintly, right before he lost every ounce of self control. ' it' He hissed. With one grip, he pulled her to himself and crashed his lips on hers.

I was the girl no one noticed. Until I opened File Case No. 0001. Azrael Atlas St. Claire. They call him “The Architect.” A ghost. A cold-blooded killer. A man so dangerous the FBI can’t touch. His death would shatter the economy. Rival syndicates would burn the city to kill him. He has no weakness. Then he found me. He appeared in my archive and vanished without a trace. The next morning, gifts started appearing on my nightstand. First, a bullet coated in dried blood. Second, ten fingers belonging to the man who touched me. He watched. Followed. Stalked my every move. Then one night, he came through my window. He took what he wanted while I floated in haze. I woke up sore, terrified…and craving for more—needing for more. The FBI saw a fracture in me, and decided to weaponize it. They wired me. Made me their spy with a promised I’d be safe if I helped them cage the monster. Yet, at the first sign of blood, they ran. Leaved me in chaos. He stayed. Now, I lived in his world. My mother thinks the lawyer at her table is a kind stranger. She didn’t feel his hand between my thighs underneath. She doesn’t know he’s been sculpting my life for years, long before we ever met. The FBI wants me to betray him. His enemies want me dead for revenge. But the monster who stole my life? He’s the only one who ever truly saw me. And I’m starting to wonder if that makes me just as dangerous as him. They say there’s a line between the victim and the villain. I don’t think I’m on the right side anymore.

Getting a good job that pays is kind of difficult and an offer came to her to commit a crime when she is no killer but for the money, she had no choice. She never planned to love but planned to be the billionaire hit woman, what happens when the table turns?

A man fades away, but not before ensuring his legacy is passed on. A boy becomes a man, and starts to awaken to his destiny. A monster lurks among men, and thus becomes more than what he is. A young woman comes to terms with her future, then works to protect the future of others. And all of this comes about from the edge of a blade, as a hero is not born, but rather made.

"If I touched you, you’d never go back to him." Arden's words rang in my head. My breath caught. Now that I was out of the palace, nothing stood between us. No gilded cages. No cameras in every corner. No Ivana breathing down my neck. Nothing to stop him from making good on those words. And the worst part? A traitorous part of me was curious. What if he was right? Arden was Richard’s brother. The wrong man. The forbidden man. And yet my body betrayed me. My heart beat harder just thinking about him. My lips tingled at the memory of his voice, his smirk, the way his eyes had lingered on me like he saw everything I tried to hide.

When James Chapman and I first got together, I was a regular student while he was one of the most popular guys in school. Five years down the road, I'm still a regular woman. James' attitude toward me has changed drastically, though. He frequently complains about my appearance. I know it's because his true love is back in the country. He misses our fifth anniversary because of her. His true love makes fun of me for being ugly to his face, so he orders me to get cosmetic surgery at her newly opened clinic. He wants me to use my fanbase to make her business boom. "You're so ugly that you'd be the perfect person to prove Barbara's skills… if she can actually make you look better, that is. We're all friends, aren't we? What's wrong with lending her a hand? Stop being so petty!" Barbara Simpson kills me—I die on the operating table in her inhumane clinic. James thinks I go missing because I'm just throwing a tantrum, but he realizes he's wrong when he finds my mangled body in the basement. The diamond ring he put on my finger is still there, too.

The air in the Parisian haute couture salon smelled like money and fear. I’d waited six months for my wedding dress. Now, it was draped over the shoulders of Sofia Ross—the trending influencer, and my mafia fiancé Vincent Cassio’s god-sister. The salon manager was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between me and the man lounging on the velvet sofa. Vincent Cassio stood up. He adjusted a fold of the diamond-encrusted train on Sofia with a casual flick of his wrist. “Her premiere next week needs a statement piece. She’s borrowing it. Pick something off the rack and stop making a scene.” His tone was flat, final. Under the crystal chandeliers, Sofia admired herself in the full-length mirror, a triumphant smile on her lips. I looked at my reflection in the same mirror, wearing jeans and a soaked trench coat. I looked like a lost tourist. Suddenly, the entire past year of planning felt like a sick joke. I didn’t yell. I just felt cold. Numb. I slipped the five-carat engagement ring off my finger. It hit the glass coffee table with a sharp, final click. “You’re right, Vincent. I don’t need this wedding dress. This wedding… I don’t need it either.”