Territorial Table And Tavern

The appointment of Susan Moore as the Broadcasting Channel's executive director has forced out the station's more valued news anchor, sparking heated discussions throughout Hayworth. Susan herself is standing before me right now. She wants to sell her jewelry. As the manager of a luxury boutique store, I'm here to inspect the goods. "These are pieces my partner commissioned for me. I have so many that I'm tired of them." One of them is a diamond-encrusted necklace, featuring a pigeon-blood ruby in the center, worth a few million. There are also several similar gifts on the table, with the crocodile skin bag the least eye-catching one. I smiled. "Your husband must really love you." I set about verifying the purchaser's ID and signature as part of a routine procedure. However, I freeze in place at the sight of the name. "I'm not his wife," she replied, bringing the coffee cup to her lips. "We're just each other's first loves. He said he missed out on 15 years of my life, so he gave me 15 gifts. Isn't that romantic?" It is romantic, indeed. However, it's my father's signature. For 30-plus years, I assumed that my father was a dull man who had never once surprised my mother.

My father was hospitalized with a fractured bone. He needed someone to look after him. My wife, Alma, who was also a doctor, said she had to attend the Lancet conference abroad. She claimed it was an event she could not miss. While I was caring for my father, my younger brother, Jack, forwarded a short video to me. “Clyde, you need to look at this video of Alma.” In the video, Alma, who always took great care of her hands, was assembling parts on an assembly line at an electronics factory. I looked up info on who uploaded the photo. It was Tobias Zidel, a male nurse from her department. He captioned the video: [From the operating table to my assembly line. A true woman of all trades!] I resisted the urge to confront her. Instead, I forwarded the video to the department’s group chat. [I wonder how much Dr. Ashford earns per day working at Mr. Zidel’s family factory?] The group chat instantly exploded with messages. The video spread across the entire hospital. Alma bombarded me with frantic phone calls. She demanded that I retract the message. “Come with a written apology on Monday. You will apologize to Mr. Zidel publicly during the meeting!” I hung up decisively. Then, I scheduled an appointment to file for divorce. I did not want a wife like this.

My mother loved a billionaire once. He destroyed her quietly, with power and control and the particular cruelty of a man who knew nobody would believe his wife's pain. She left him with nothing but the clothes on her back and a warning she planted deep inside me before I could even walk. *Never marry a billionaire.* I believed her. I built my own empire. I refused every wealthy, charming, well-suited man who came to my table with a ring and a rehearsed smile. Then I walked into The Harlow Hotel and saw a waiter. No charm. No performance. Just steady eyes that looked at me like I had startled him and then looked away first. Shyly. His name was Charles Dick. Simple. Honest. Real. Everything my mother's warning was never about. I pursued him. I provided for him. I loved him completely. Five days before our wedding he told me the truth. And everything collapsed in sixty seconds. Because the most dangerous love stories are not the ones that begin with lies. They are the ones where two people lie to protect themselves from the very love they have been searching for their entire lives. .... Vivienne Donald had sworn she would never marry a billionaire. She kept her word. She married something far greater.

" Tell me what can I do to make it up for you?" He asks, taking a seat on the table near the bed, sounding guilty. Tho, I don't trust his words or feelings it can always change. I faced him, grinning violently as I asked, "Can you let me go?" He smiled. "Except that." I knew he will say something like that. "I don't wanna do this marriage. " He cocks his brow up in amusement before he chuckled, "I thought I made it clear when we met that you don't have any choice to make while you are here with me. " I sighed, with an annoy, he continued. "Though, if that's how I can make up then let's make a deal. " "What deal?" °^°^°^°^°^ Elina's life turns upside down when she got kidnapped by the man who appears in her nightmares who is none other than the son of ruthless Mafia, Andrew, and he, himself a rumored to be the most dangerous mafia in reality. Elina soon starts to hear and see the things she has no idea of and tries her best to know the reason behind it but she wasn't ready to find and process something more horrifying about Andrew and her's unknown past that was kept hidden by her.

Amy Lacey and I were sworn enemies—stuck in a marriage neither of us wanted. She blamed me for ruining her last chance with her childhood sweetheart, Bryan Gurley. I hated her for sliding a separation agreement across the table on our wedding night. Seven years together. We both wished the other dead. The day I finally decided to divorce her, our private plane started going down. She grabbed the only parachute and strapped it around my waist. "Isaac Irving, if you die, how are you supposed to pay me back for the years I wasted on you?" The parachute snapped open. Then the explosion hit—and her last words cut through it. "Next life, don't come bother me again." Later, the rescue team pulled her burned body from the wreckage. In her arms was the love token Bryan had given her. That night, divorce papers in hand, I stepped off a rooftop. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Amy ran to the airport to win Bryan back. This time, I let her go without a second thought. In this life, I set her free. From here on out, we'd walk our own roads—owing each other nothing.

"Thirty million" I heard a male voice echo round the walls of the hall which silenced everyone. Who would bid that high just to buy me? "Thirty million dollars" the male voice spoke up once again, a young man striding confidently forward like he owned the very building with his bidding card raised up. He was eighty percent taller than everyone in attendance. I sucked in breath at his refined but cold appearance. His tuxedo hugged his body and showed of his impeccable muscles. His dark long hair was slick and let to fall, not a single strand out of place. He had the profile of a greek God but his features lacked warmth and empathy. His brown steel eyes burrowed into mine, a look of disgust on his face for me. "Sold!" the chairman hit the gavel on the table after a brief moment of silence since no one else was willing to bid higher. A wave of ovation took the hall, men chattering amongst themselves and whistling. "Get her ready and bring her to me" he pivoted and sharply ordered one of the armed bodyguards standing close to the podium. He owns me now. **** When a ruthless mafia lord bids for an innocent girl, can her innocense survive in the abyss of his darkness?

Muntik nang mamatay si Sunshine sa operating table dahil sa matinding pagdurugo mula sa isang ectopic pregnancy, habang ang asawa niyang si Shawn Navarro naman ay todo-celebrate ng birthday ng kaniyang kabit—high-profile at walang pakialam. Apat na taon silang kasal. Sa loob ng panahong iyon, sobrang humble at mapagtiis si Sunshine, pero kahit anong gawin niya, hindi pa rin niya natunaw ang puso ni Shawn. Lubos siyang nadurog nang makita niyang buong lambing at proteksiyon na inaalagaan ni Shawn ang anak ng mismong kaaway niya. Doon na siya tuluyang sumuko—iniwan niya ito dala ang isang kasunduan ng pakikipaghiwalay. Pagbalik niya sa workforce, buong puso niyang ibinuhos ang sarili sa career. Sa loob ng maikling panahon, ginulat niya ang buong siyudad at naging isang highly sought-after figure sa hanay ng mga elite. Nang makita ni Shawn na napapalibutan na siya ng mga manliligaw, hindi na mapakali ang cold-faced CEO. Siya mismo ang pumutol sa mga suitors at isinandal siya sa pader. “Mrs. Navarro, I don’t agree with our annulment!”

At dinner, Tiffany White grabs my fiance's phone and spends 100 thousand dollars on a designer bag. She even sticks her tongue at me. "Come on, Meredith. You're loaded. You won't mind such a small amount, right? Shawn and I share everything. His money is my money," she says. Everyone at the table waits for me to lose my temper or smile and let it slide like a saint. Instead, I calmly take out a voice recorder and my laptop from my bag and adjust my gold-rimmed glasses. "100 thousand meets the threshold for criminal filing. Since you said you two share everything, I have to ask—is this embezzlement or an illegal transfer tied to an improper personal relationship? "Oh, and what you just said about 'his money is my money'? I recorded that. According to the supplemental clauses in our prenup and the company bylaws, I'm officially initiating an asset-freezing order against Shawn Harrison." I turn to Tiffany. "Enjoy your free meals in prison, Ms. White." Shawn is livid. "It was just a joke, Meredith. Is it really necessary to ruin me over this?" I hit the "enter" key. "Sorry. In my book, there are no jokes—only bad debt."

As the youngest daughter of the powerful mafia family, the Blythes, I was spoiled the moment I was born. I had three older brothers who adored me. When I turned eighteen, our father was killed in a turf fight. The shock sent our mother into a rapid decline, and she passed away less than a week later. To avenge our father, my three brothers waged war against our enemies for three days. Though they emerged victorious, all three were critically wounded. My eldest brother, Damon Blythe, suffered a ruptured liver and was on the brink of death. Matt Blythe, my second brother, had severe kidney damage. Chris Blythe had lost too much blood and went into heart failure. I spent a fortune hiring the world’s top surgeons. They transplanted half of my liver to Damon, a kidney to Matt, and even gave my heart to Chris, replacing mine with a mechanical one. Thanks to the doctors’ skill, all three survived and went on to take over the Blythes’ empire. Five years later, they became infatuated with Sophia Foster, a poor but strong-willed intern. They even forced me to give up my last kidney to her. It was only after I had died on the operating table that they regretted what they had done.

My child-free husband went back to his hometown for a funeral, and after he returned, he suddenly wanted me to have a baby. He was one of the best obgyns in the state, so he handled my IVF procedure himself. After more than 160 hormone shots, we finally heard the baby’s rhythmic heartbeats for the first time, which made my usually calm husband tear up. Soon, he tightened every part of my routine, from a strict diet to my schedule, and once my belly started showing, he barely let me get out of bed. I thought he was just being overly protective. But then, right by my ear, I heard a nasty little boy’s voice. [Which player starts their mission inside the womb? And she’s not even my mom!] [Just four more months. My dad will make sure she dies on the operating table so he can keep only his son.] [After that, he’ll bring my real mom back, and my mission will be complete!] I canceled my afternoon checkup immediately as soon as I heard this. Did the system forget to tell him that he wasn’t the only player in this world?