The Slap That Ended 18 Years

He crossed his arms the towel hung low. "I'm married Celeste… you’re like a daughter to me that can’t happen… you don’t know what you’re asking for little one” he grunt. I laughed soft. "Daughter? No daddy I want to be your slut. Kiss me. Touch me. Ruin me, I need you." I closed the gap my hands went to his chest his wet skin under my fingers. I leaned up and kissed him hard my lips pressed to his, my tongue pushing in. ••• At eighteen, a birthday wish led to a forbidden night with her best friend's dad. At twenty-five, a cheating scandal sends her running to New York, straight into the orbit of the one man who she tried so hard to forgot. The problem? He's her powerful new boss—and some secrets can't stay in the past.

Rolape suffers sleep paralysis and traumas. She blames her parents for her turmoils but as she strives to be a better person, she ironically discovers that her tribulations are pointing her silently to a purpose.

This is my 18th time coming to City Hall, yet Tessa's still nowhere to be seen. Right as I'm about to call and ask her how much longer she'll be, her childhood friend's post popped up on my screen. "Celebrating 1000 days of marriage with my wife. May we always be this happy." The photo highlights a marriage certificate, and Tessa Cross' name is right there under "wife". As for the license date, it shows February 14th, three years ago. So this is why she hasn't shown up the last eighteen times. It turns out that she's already somebody else's wife.

"I know I don’t deserve a second chance. I know I’ve hurt you in the cruelest way. But I regret it, truly regret it. I've spent five years searching for you, hoping to atone for my mistakes. I... I still love you." My heart raced. Part of me wanted to believe him, wanted to surrender to the words I had longed for. But I couldn’t just forget how he had shattered me. "Love?" I let out a small laugh. "You’re talking about love after what you did to me? After you made me feel like nothing more than a replacement? I’ve moved past the days when I cried over you, when I questioned my self-worth just because you chose another woman. You want me back? But what if one day you find another reason to leave me?" "No!"

Vanessa Valencia a 17 years old girl whose eyes is full of life, a heart full of magic, a mischief prankster, a cupid matchmaker who make a win-win situation for herself, but one conversation with her friends makes her have a mission, MISSION to find a perfect man for her mom, who's been single for too long when Vanessa realized her been a cupid matchmaker, she never played hitching game on her mother. what if Vanessa decides to find her mother a partner? a soulmate?. "But Vanessa dude, that was a successful hitch," Aden fist bump Vanessa while having a bite of pizza that they got as a treat from the person Vanessa played cupid on. "Enjoying yourself kids?" Alisa asked. "Yep, Mrs valencia" Kova nodded his head in yes. "Glad, when I'm off to bed, have a goodnight," Alisa greeted and began to walk upstairs in towards the bedroom. "Damn nessa, no offense, your mom still has it" Aden commented while sipping his drink. "Aden really," Vanessa said rolling her eyes. "What? can't a man be honest," Aden dramatically placed a hand on his heart. "But nessa, I don't understand, You been a hitcher or cupid matchmaker, still your mom is single WHY?" "What WHY?" Vanessa questioned while trying to copy Aden. "Aden's right," Kova agreed. "Come on girl, USE YOUR BLESSING ON YOUR MOM AND HITCH HERR," Aden whispered standing up and pointing at Vanessa. "Now that's dramatic Aden". But Aden's words did put Vanessa in deep thought, ADEN IS RIGHT, HITCH HER, YES, Vanessa thought. ................................. Will Vanessa be able to find her mother a perfect man or not? Join Vanessa's journey in 18 to 80, to know what happens. {The above cover doesn't belong to me, credit to the owner)

My best friend was a D-list influencer who'd blown six months of savings to drag me to a so-called "socialite finishing school." But then the instructor made us slap each other across the face — an "obedience test." I couldn't help it. I laughed. The next second, my friend was blacklisted from the entire circle, and her agent sent a termination notice. The instructor pointed at me and gave my friend an ultimatum: "Get on your knees. Slap her ten times. Then I'll lift the ban." My friend cried, trembling as she walked toward me. I sighed. The billion-dollar inheritance I'd just received — looks like the secret was about to come out.

“Sign it.” Axton’s calm voice echoed in the room. The kind of calm that made silence deafening. He pushed the divorce papers across the polished desk, his expression cold and composed. The pen rolled until it stopped in front of her hand. Isla’s fingers trembled slightly as she picked it up. The golden ring on her finger glinted under the office light, a cruel reminder of everything that was about to end. Three years of marriage, three years of smiles and unspoken tenderness, now reduced to a signature line. They had never married for love, binded by a contract signed for convenience, destined to expire the moment it no longer served its purpose. And yet somewhere along the way, Isla had forgotten it was only temporary.

For another girl, Lex Hamilton—my fiancé of several years—dumped me in the middle of nowhere and left me to fend for myself. Three years later, he showed up with her to bring me back. "It's been three years," he said. "Even a dog would've learned its lesson by now. I did this for your own good. If you don't fix that attitude of yours, don't expect to ever become my wife." They thought I'd crumble. They thought I'd beg, cling to him, and unload all the pain and humiliation I'd carried for the past three years. Instead, I smiled. "Sorry, Mr. Hamilton. I'm already married."

When I went to register my son, Cody Vantor, for medical insurance before his first year of kindergarten, I was told I wasn’t his biological mother. "Are you sure this is your child? The system shows a different woman listed as the mother." I said nothing. I quietly snapped a photo of the unfamiliar home address, then followed it to the neighboring complex. When he saw me, my husband, Dorian Vantor, froze. His hand instinctively moved to block the doorway. "So you found out. But making a scene won’t change anything. I haven’t treated you badly these past three years." I looked past him, and my body went cold. The woman behind him was my younger sister, Summer Walsh, fresh out of college. She handed him a glass of water and gave me an apologetic smile. "Don’t blame me, Lennie. The doctor said I have postpartum depression. I can’t handle hearing a baby cry. Thank you for raising Cody for me all these years. I really am grateful." Just then, Cody, who had been waiting in the car downstairs, ran up. He rushed into Summer’s arms like it was second nature, then turned to look at me. "Aunt Lenora, don’t cry. Mommy said you’re a good person. That’s why she asked you to help. Daddy said if I behave and call you ‘Mom’ at your house, I can come back on weekends to see my real Mommy."

Six years ago, I was accused of kidnapping Fiona Carter’s adopted younger brother, Ryker Carter. The kidnapper insisted I was behind it. I begged Fiona for help, but she looked at me with pure disgust. "Xavier, you broke Ryker’s leg. This is the punishment you deserve!" Six years later, Fiona came to the prison to take me home, only to be handed a death certificate. She refused to believe it. "Xavier, even if you run to the ends of the earth, I’ll find you!" Later, she knelt in front of my grave and personally severed Ryker’s tendons.