Three Square Meals Literotica

Steven Lambert claimed my mother almost killed his wife and daughter, branding me as a sinner from birth. For twenty years, he and his family tormented me in the name of atonement. I was forced into a cruel marriage with the vile Caleb Carpenter in Cindy's place, only to suffer a tragic end. Only then did the Lamberts realize I was their daughter. Yet all this time, the very existence they believed to be a sinner enjoyed their bottomless affection and adoration.

Clara is the most sought-after actress of her generations. She got it all - fame, career, love and money. One day, she lost everything and went back to square one. All of this is because of the plot scheme of Victoria, the rising rookie actress. Will she be able to reach her star again or could she be someone else’s star this time?

Sandra was known as the most beautiful woman in the country. A daughter of one of the most influential and powerful businessman in the world. She's everything a man could ask for. She's every woman dying to be like and would kill for just to be in her shoes. But her life is not as perfect as square as people think. Despite everything she has in her golden plate, there's still one thing she badly wanted to have but couldn't get. Phoenix. The elusive faceless genius composer who seemed to hate her.

My husband, Mark Thompson, and I went hiking. After eating some wild berries I picked, he was poisoned and died. When I got home, a woman named Sarah Miller and her son, Tommy Miller, showed up at my door. It turned out Mark had given them our house and car. On top of that, he owed them a huge amount of money. I ended up giving them all the savings I had. To care for my sick mother-in-law, Judith Thompson, I worked three jobs. I was surviving on basic meals like bread and butter. After years of exhausting work, I collapsed in the hospital. Judith told the doctors to stop my treatment. Just as I was about to die, Mark walked into the ward with Sarah and Tommy in his arms. He tossed five dollars at me. “Thanks for taking care of my mom all these years.” That was when I realized Mark had faked his death just to be with Sarah and their love child. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day we went hiking together.

I applied for a popular online job as a personal chef. I thought I'd be cooking simple, home-style meals, but I quickly found myself trapped in a world of surprises. The food they were craving was me, served on a platter. The wealthy women were looking for excitement, torturing me night after night. But what they didn't realize was, the real thrill came when the dogs turned on each other.

"I spent three years being his 'used rag.' Now, I’m the one cleaning up his empire, starting with the trash." For three years, Shay Falcone lived for her husband, Massimo. She worked twelve-hour shifts behind the scenes, skipping meals and sleep to ensure his company became a billion-dollar legend. She was his ghostwriter, his secret strategist, and his most loyal soldier. She thought her reward would be the child growing inside her. But on the night of the Billionaire Launch, Massimo didn't give her a thank you. He gave her a death sentence. "You're a used rag, Shay," he sneered in front of the world's cameras. "A servant I don't need to pay. Meet my real wife, Elena." One shove from his bodyguards sent Shay spiraling into a stone fountain. As Massimo walked away to celebrate his wealth, Shay lay in a pool of blood, feeling the heartbeat of her child stop forever. Two years later, the rag is gone. The Ice Queen has arrived. When Massimo’s empire begins to crumble, he begs for a meeting with the untouchable Alessia Valois. He expects a savior; instead, he finds the wife he killed. "Shay?" Massimo gasps, reaching for her. "I... I’ve realized my mistake. Please, I still love you." Alessia doesn't even look up from her glass of vintage scotch. She steps over his hand as if he were a stain on the carpet. "I’m sorry, Mr. Falcone," she purrs, her voice cold enough to freeze his soul. "The woman who loved you died in a fountain. I’m just here to collect the debt."

The ruthless billionaire Adam Lewiston lives for ambition, hiding behind a wall of wealth and fleeting pleasures. Enter Liu, a timid newcomer with a spark that ignites something within Adam's cold heart. A year-long contract offers him comfort but opens a door to true connection. As feelings grow, Liu seeks stability, and their worlds collide dramatically. Heartbreak follows a fierce confrontation, leading to years apart. Yet, fate has a way of bringing love back. In a Parisian square, amidst the falling snow, their eyes meet again, promising a chance to rewrite their story.

My brother, Theo Sorento, died in a plane crash on his way back home just to celebrate my birthday. They never found his body—only wreckage. Ever since, my parents forced me to kneel in front of his grave every year on my birthday, demanding that I repent for surviving when he didn’t. Then came my eighteenth birthday. I realized someone was following me. Panicked, I sent a few messages asking for help. Just then, Mom called, not to check on me but to lash out. “I know exactly what you're doing. You’re just making up excuses so you don’t have to kneel in front of your brother’s grave! You’re a liar. Why wasn’t it you who died instead of him? You’re a walking curse!” Before my phone was smashed under a boot, the last thing I heard was the cold click of her hanging up. Then, I was cut up into pieces, and what was left of me was tossed across the city. My father, the lead forensic pathologist on my case, didn’t even recognize me. Later, Theo returned alive with his wife, whom he had eloped with eight years ago. When they found out the pile of rotting flesh was me, they all went insane.

I am the biggest female drug lord in Riverdale, who gets shot in the head during a crackdown operation. As soon as the news breaks, the entire internet celebrates. People even crowdfund to take over a giant screen in the city square to display my obituary photo. They say I filled Riverdale with drugs and single-handedly destroyed countless families. They accuse me of leaking operation routes, causing the deaths of my ex-husband's 13 anti-drug force teammates. Hundreds of thousands sign a petition demanding my ashes be crushed and turned into tiles for public restrooms. To calm the overwhelming public anger, my ex-husband, Tyler Lowell, who is now captain of the anti-drug force, decides to launch a public hearing across the internet to livestream my entire life of alleged crimes. On the day of the trial, people thronged the city square. "A woman like her deserves to be cut up into a thousand pieces! How many families are destroyed because of the drugs she sells?" "I hear she is ruthless. She would even stoop to making a three-year-old do her bidding. She is inhumane!" "She got so many anti-drug officers killed. I want to see her end up in hell!" Tyler presses the start button with a blank expression. The crowd's furious curses come crashing down like waves. It is as if they want to tear me apart and condemn me forever. But in the next second, what appears on the giant screen is me in a uniform, standing under the national flag and taking a solemn oath. In that instant, the entire square falls silent.

“Help me fake my death and arrange a completely new identity.” “Donna,” the man was clearly shocked. “Why? The Don dotes on you. The whole of Sicily knows—” “That’s none of your business,” I interrupted him. “I’m leaving in five days.” Walking out of the black market, the LED screen in the square was still showing footage of my lavish wedding with Don Alexander three years ago, a ceremony that cost over $500 million. Everyone thought Don Alexander loved me deeply, and I thought so too. Until this afternoon, on our third wedding anniversary, I returned to Sicily early, hiding in the lounge of my husband—Don Alexander’s—office, wanting to surprise him. Instead, I saw his secretary hiding under his desk. While the underboss Marco was reporting the losses from the dock smuggling operation, Isabella was kneeling between Alexander’s legs, skillfully unbuttoning his trousers. Her head bobbed up and down. After Marco left, Isabella smiled seductively. “Could your Donna serve you like this during a meeting?” Alexander’s voice was filled with desire. His hands kneaded her breasts. “Sophia is too conventional, too boring. You’re much more exciting in bed, you little slut.” I covered my mouth, completely devastated. But when I actually left, the Don, who had found me boring, was the one who completely broke down.