The Seven Ages Of Man By William Shakespeare

Mereka bertemu pertama kali di acara pernikahan kakak Lista. Dia melihat pria itu di pinggir pantai, berciuman dengan wanita yang lebih tua. Pemandangan yang membuat Lista tercengang karena mereka melakukan hal itu di tempat terbuka. Kali kedua mereka bertemu, Lista tak sengaja melihat pria itu masih dengan wanita yang sama. Saat itu Lista mengetahui si wanita adalah rekan kerja kakaknya, dan pria itu adalah mahasiswa semester akhir di fakultas kakaknya bekerja. Setelah itu frekuensi pertemuan mereka makin sering, hingga Lista tahu bahwa pria bernama Pras itu memang bekerja untuk menemani wanita-wanita kesepian. Frekuensi pertemuan tak sengaja membuat keduanya dekat, hingga akhirnya orang tua Pras meminta pria itu menikah setelah mendapatkan pekerjaan. Tentu saja mustahil bagi pria itu untuk mengatakan pekerjaan yang sebenarnya pada orang tuanya. Tak punya pilihan, akhirnya Pras mengenalkan Lista pada orang tuanya sebagai calon istrinya. Namun, apakah Lista setuju dengan ide gila Pras? Lalu, bagaimana dengan pekerjaan Pras selama ini?

WARNING ⚠️: This book contains some violence, explicit and mature content, BDSM, and is highly rated 18+. Just once, he thrust deeper and my lips gaped, trembling…my fingers squeezed his cloth tighter. “Why do you smell this way? Just why?” his voice was barely a whisper. I wanted to answer him…to tell him he was the whore here, but fućk…..he pushed into me deeper, once, twice and again. …… It was supposed to be a seven day contract and then we parted ways, but I didn't just end up being his rival…one whose mother he's been searching for all these years, but also I became the slave who the Alpha king relieves his stress in her damped fold. Was it the matebond? I doubted it. He wasn't just all over me, but I also prayed each day that he sends for me, have me tied up and f*cked until my body convulsed under him. He was dominant and possessive, and I submitted to every bit of him…

The day I won the championship in the pro gaming league, my girlfriend, Nina Vale, said she was coming to bring me flowers. Standing on the awards stage, I pulled the ring from my pocket, thrilled and ready to propose to her in front of everyone. However, instead of handing the bouquet to me, she turned and placed the flowers into the hands of her childhood friend, Rowan Cross, who was standing beside me. The pairing of a handsome man and a beautiful woman sent countless fans across the internet into a frenzy, enthusiastically shipping them together and congratulating them. Rowan’s fans tagged me and mocked, "Classic simp. Seven years of licking boots, and you still end up with nothing. Did you congratulate Rowan and Nina yet?" I replied calmly, "Respect and blessings. Enjoy being locked in forever."

It was the day Jessica Goldenfold got the International Wealth Club Charity Award. My doctor pronounced me dead, for I could not afford the artificial heart needed for my survival. The show's host asked Jessica to call the one whom she had the most regret about. She called my number. I picked it up. She asked, "Do you ever regret leaving me for money?" I stared at the obscene bill for the artificial heart. Then, I chuckled. "You're a rich girl, Jessica. How about a loan of 30 grand?" She killed the call. I watched her telling everyone in front of the cameras, "No more regrets." She had no idea at all. She had no idea that I was the one who gave my heart to her when she had heart failure. I did it behind her back.

Hindi inaasahan ni Marilyn na makikilala niya sa probinsya ng San Lorenzo ang pitong magkakapatid na Monroe na silang magpapabago sa takbo ng kanyang buhay, puso, at isipan.

WARNING] This story is not the typical childhood tale where the princess will be saved by her prince, and they will live happily ever after. This tale is about the princess who made her happily ever after- and to do that, she needed to be wicked like her stepmother. ------ "Run!" Snow doesn't have the choice but to follow prince Arthur. She closed her eyes and ran into the dark and dense forest. "Awoo..." Snow's quick run was stopped when a loud howl echoed through the forest. "What should I do? I can't go back...the queen soldier is all over the place and this is the only place they won't dare to go..." she uttered. Although her whole body was trembling, Snow continued her walk but she made a full stop. "Grr..." Snow's eyes widened as the cold sweat broke out on her forehead. " It looks like I can't escape death tonight..."

I suffer from a hereditary form of amnesia. By the time I found out, I had only seven days left. On the first day, I found my boyfriend had fallen for my younger twin sister. With a bitter smile, I suggested we break up. On the second day, my most treasured Lego set was smashed by my sister. Everyone laughed at me, saying I was disgraceful, unworthy of being a daughter of the Fleming family. On the fourth day, I forgot that my sister was allergic to mangoes. She ended up in the hospital, and my parents glared at me with resentment. Even my ex-boyfriend accused me of being heartless. On the seventh day, I woke up in a hospital bed to see my father walking in with a stern expression. He demanded that I quit my job and devote myself entirely to taking care of the family, as nothing more than a housekeeper. But I only looked at them in confusion and asked softly, “Who are you?” When they realized I had truly lost my memory, they lost their minds.

On the night of my wedding, my best friend's younger brother wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked me, “It’s a little big. Can you handle it?” I stared at his perfectly defined abs, my mind going completely blank. “What?” He repeated, “Can you handle it?” My voice jumped an octave from my panic. “Aren't we supposed to take things slow? Isn’t this way too fast?” That night, the sound-activated lights in the house flickered on and off until dawn. Meanwhile, my ex-husband was squatting downstairs. His eyes were swollen red from crying, but I did not even spare him a thought. Back then, when I agreed to let him proceed with a fake wedding with his childhood sweetheart, Miles Carter thought our cold war was over. When he explained things to me, he said, “Vivian and I will only be married on paper. The ceremony is just to satisfy my mom. I swear, when this is over, we’ll live as a real couple.” I remained silent. I just stared at the countdown on my phone, counting the days until I could finally leave. He did not know that the moment he tricked me into signing the divorce papers, our marriage had already ceased to exist.

I've planned seven wedding ceremonies in total, and not once has my fiance, Zachary Gardner, ever shown up for it. The first time, his adopted younger sister, Louise Foster, bursts into tears because she lost her passport at the airport. It was the dead of winter, but he dumped me by the side of the road and left me. The second time, Louise's dog sprained its ankle. Zachary stuffed the ring back into its box and rushed to the animal hospital to accompany her. Every time I argue with him about it, he declares nonchalantly, "We can get married anytime, but I can't let Louise be upset." Everyone around us agrees with him, saying that we're all family anyway, so I shouldn't be so petty. None of them has seen Zachary and Louise kissing fiercely on the dance floor. Today is the seventh wedding ceremony. Once again, he turns to leave after getting a call. I grab the corner of his shirt and say in a choked voice, "If you leave this time, Zachary, I won't marry you anymore." He stops in his tracks and peels off my fingers. "Wait for me," he says before rushing off. What he doesn't know is that this time, I won't be waiting for him any longer.

My husband threw me into the crocodile pit to help his childhood sweetheart, who was a KOL, gain popularity. To make the live stream more realistic, he personally tossed bait at me. “Have you not eaten? My grandma can run faster than you!” He watched as I bled from my abdomen, believing I was just pretending to be pitiful. When I asked for a divorce, he kicked me to the ground. “Since you love pretending to be pitiful to ask for a divorce, why didn’t you just let the crocodile kill you?” I handed him a medical report. “My child died because of you. Does this count as pretending to be pitiful?”