Thousand Feet

In the city of Oakhaven, power isn’t shared—it’s inherited. And the Thorne Triplets have just found their newest asset. Damon, Kael, and Elias Thorne are a trinity of absolute control. One rules the boardroom, one rules the streets, and one rules the elite social circles. They have everything—except a reason to be human. Then they meet Luke. Soft, curvy, and devastatingly innocent, Luke was never meant to survive the shark-infested waters of Thorne International. But the triplets don’t want him to swim; they want him to drown in their devotion. What starts as a "Gilded Leash" of corporate protection quickly spirals into a dark, decadent obsession that defies every social boundary. But as the brothers whisk Luke away to The Aerie—a glass-and-obsidian fortress perched three thousand feet above the world—the air begins to change. Secrets are whispered in the mountain mist. A shadowy figure from the past refuses to stay buried. And a shocking biological revelation is about to flip the Thorne hierarchy on its head. How much of yourself can you lose before you belong to someone else? The world thinks the Thornes are protecting Luke from the monsters outside. They don’t realize that the most dangerous monsters are the ones already holding him in the dark. One heart. Three masters. A legacy written in blood and silk

I’d been married to my husband James for three years. On Valentine’s Day, he gave his stepsister, Mia, one hundred and eighty thousand dollars, along with millions in jewelry. I, on the other hand, received a free bouquet of roses. When I didn’t look thrilled, he accused me of being a gold digger. “Mia never had anyone to care for her growing up. Why are you competing with her? Isn’t being Mrs. Smith enough to feed your vanity?” Furious, I stormed out of the house. When a car lost control and came barreling toward me, he instinctively rushed to protect Mia, who was standing a full ten feet from the road. I was the one who ended up in the hospital. Lying in that bed, I finally gave up. I signed the divorce papers without hesitation. “Giving up the title of Mrs. Smith is the dumbest decision you’ll ever make,” he told me, looking down at me from above before walking away. Seven years later, we met again. He took one glance at my simple dress and laughed out loud. I didn’t bother to respond. I just held my daughter close and waited for her father—the richest man in the city—to arrive.

My cousin, John Anderson, always paid me in tens rather than in thousands. He owned a renovation company, and my team and I always worked hard for his projects. However, he only transferred me thirty dollars for sand and concrete that were worth three thousand dollars. Besides that, he only transferred me one thousand five hundred dollars to finance customized doors and windows worth one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I did not harp on that. Instead, I bore the cost in full, as he was my cousin. That was until his wife, Rory Anderson, scolded me in front of all the workers. “Peter’s a bloodsucker. He never informs us whenever he buys new materials. He must have scammed a lot of money from us! I saw that he got himself a new house and a new car. I bet these are all bought with money he took from us!” John smoked next to us and sighed, “Never mind. He’s family after all.” I was furious when I heard that. I paid more than six hundred thousand dollars’ worth of material fees for him, and he was accusing me of stealing his money? The next client had a mansion and wanted natural marbles worth hundreds of thousands of dollars for his living room floor. John approved the request but only transferred me a thousand dollars to get it sorted out. So, I went to the brick factory located in the countryside and got a truckload of used red bricks from pigpens. Then, I used them for the client’s flooring.

In my previous life, my three sons told me they wanted to set up a Family Bond Fund for me. Each of them would deposit three thousand dollars every month. I cried with gratitude, truly believing that decades of sacrifice had finally paid off. One of them even said, "Mom, you've given us so much. It's our turn to take care of you now." However, eight years later, I was told I have uremia. That was when I discover that the bank card, which supposedly held the fund, couldn't even cover the dialysis deposit. Soon after, my eldest son video-called me. He said he wanted to buy a better apartment in a good school district. He was short of 150 thousand dollars for the down payment and asked if I could lend it to him first. My second son came to the hospital with his wife and daughter. He didn't ask about my condition at all. Instead, he kept showing off his daughter's piano competition trophy, hinting that he needed 50 thousand dollars to enroll her in a prestigious international piano program. My youngest son was even more straightforward. He said he had his eye on a limited-edition pair of sneakers and wanted me to pay 30 thousand dollars for them as a birthday gift. The moment they realized the bank account didn't have enough money, their faces fell. "We each put in three thousand dollars every month. Over eight years, that's at least eight hundred thousand dollars. Mom, are you hiding the money from us?" To force me to reveal my savings, they took turns pressuring me, switching between sweet talk and threats. They even told relatives that I had dementia and had been scammed out of my money. Unable to take it anymore, I yanked out my IV late one night and walked out of the hospital, only to be hit by a car, dying instantly. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day of my hospital checkup.

As I was about to leave my brother’s restaurant, the female manager stopped me. "Miss, excuse me, but you haven’t paid your bill." I looked at the unfamiliar face and thought that she was probably new and didn’t recognize me, so I explained politely, "Just put it on the owner’s tab. He knows me." The manager shot me a disdainful look. "Miss, this is a Michelin three-star restaurant. We don’t let just anyone run up a tab." She handed me a printed bill. I glanced at it. Fifty thousand dollars for one meal. Three thousand for tableware maintenance, five thousand for exclusive air purification, ten thousand for a VIP mood-calming service fee, and a bunch of other ridiculous charges. I didn’t even know my brother’s place was such a scam. I couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. "I’m the owner’s sister. If there’s a problem, tell him to talk to me at home." But she just wouldn’t drop it. "If you can’t afford it, stop acting like you can. And don’t act like you know Mr. White, either." I fired off a quick text to my secretary. 【Tell my brother to either fire this manager or I’m pulling my investment.】

On the one thousand and ninety-fourth day of being Mrs. Harris, I asked James Harris for a divorce. His face showed a hint of confusion, but it quickly shifted to his usual, composed expression. "As you wish," he said, his tone as flat as if we were discussing whether to replace the milk on the breakfast table. He did not even bother to ask why. On the one thousand and ninety-fifth day, I gently saw him and the children off, acting as if nothing had happened, and then completely left the Harris family behind.

As soon as I receive my year-end bonus, I transfer 100 thousand dollars to my wife, Zoe Steele, so that she can prepare the holiday gifts for both families right away. I even tell her to buy the best quality gifts for our parents, especially the box of premium liquor meant for my dad. On New Year's Eve, I rush home to have dinner with my parents. But weirdly enough, Dad, who's an avid drinker, starts having tea instead of liquor at the dining table. This leaves me perplexed. "Dad, why aren't you cracking open a bottle of liquor for yourself during the holidays?" With a smile on my face, I get up to my feet so that I can carry the box of liquor over. "Zoe had someone buy the liquor for you, you know. I hear that the taste is exceptional." "Stop!" Dad slams his pipe against the table loudly, his face a starking shade of crimson. "Edgar, don't ever send such gifts home. I know that life is difficult for you in the city and that making money is hard. We Kennedys may be poor, but we are people with pride! "Now, everyone in the village is gossiping about us behind our backs! They claim that I've been boasting about your wealth!" Dad's words confuse me to no end. After I unscrew a bottle of liquor, I sip from it, only to feel thunderstruck. This isn't premium liquor at all! This is just mineral water packaged as liquor!

Two hearts who meet almost a thousand years back are forced apart by the cruel hands of death who take away one of them. The other vows to bring his beloved back, which he did, but had to pay a price. One thousand years later, Ariel is found regaining consciousness after the supposed coma she had been in. She finds herself in an unknown room with no recollection of her memories, and is forced to live with the cold hearted Damien. What will happen when she realizes who she is?

The moment my sister brought Daniel home so the family could meet him was the day I knew I had to make him mine. He looked like he was written by a Latin God, six feet four, perfect for my height of five feet nine. He had jet black hair and he knew what he was doing when he wore that tight T shirt that hugged his muscles, sitting across from me on the dining table.

I've invested in my cousin, Jack Glenwood's farm. His net profit is more than four million dollars per year. On the day I'm supposed to receive my bonus, Jack tears the contract stating that I get a 55% profit share right in front of my family. After that, he transfers 40 thousand dollars to me. He even has the audacity to pat me on the shoulder with a smile on his face. "Noah, you never did anything throughout the year. Since I'm giving you 40 thousand dollars, that means I'm treating you well, right?" I just smile as I look at Jack's greedy and despicable expression. Then, I accept the 40 thousand dollars without saying anything. The next day, I cut off the secret formula to the farm's feed and travel overseas to carry out a new round of investments. This time, I want to see how Jack will fare without my secret formula.