Tis But A Scratch

"You are no wife to me, do you get it?" He said, stepping forward crushing my already thinned personal bubble. "I am marrying you because of circumstances. The sooner you feed that to your peanut size brain, the better it will be for you and me. Do you understand?". Pushing me back against the wall with so much force it made me grunt at impact. Intense pain shot through my body when he pressed himself on me. It was like he was trying to ram me into the wall or something! - idiot- Big fat S-O-B. All these curses were going through my mind. All I want to do now is scratch his arrogant face and give him a feel of his own medicine. However, in this compromising position, I am right now! I can hardly move. So, all I did was look straight into his eyes and glared back with the same intensity. I try to break free by pushing and squirming. Alex had me in a grip so tight it felt like a hulk holding me down, so hard that it was painful. I tried to look away, but his voice made me freeze. "Answer me. Do not look away when I am talking to you bit*h!”. “Do-You-Get-What-I-Just Said? Or do I need to make myself a little clearer? hmm?" "Yes, I get it. I'm-Not-Your-Wife." "Believe it or not, I have no interest in being your wife," I said, more like spat it out, it was like poison coming out of my mouth. "Why are you smirking at me ?" he asked. Completely oblivious to what is about to come. I composed my happiness concealing it with my ‘I’m am innocent, like a kitty look’. "Oh, you're about to find out," I said.

In my past life, my mate Marcus ran off to the forest to make love with my best friend Scarlett, who was eight-month pregnant. That’s when they'd be surrounded by a pack of rogue wolves. Scarlett, heavy with child, started bleeding heavily. Both of them desperately called for the Border Guard. As the Chief Warrior, I had risked everything to fight those rogue wolves. But Scarlett still died along with her unborn pup. My mate Marcus led others to accuse me of using my position for personal revenge. He personally severed both my hands with a silver blade. "A warrior without morals like you deserves to burn in hell!" he snarled. But I remembered clearly—when I drove off the rogues and got the pack healer to Scarlett, she barely had a scratch on her. Finally, Scarlett's parents arrived. I begged them to examine her body and investigate the truth. Instead, they reported to Alpha that I had neglected my duties. They claimed I was high on wolfsbane while guarding the border. Alpha exiled me for fifteen years. With both hands severed, I had no way to fight or shift properly. I survived by begging scraps from neighboring territories. Fifteen years later, I returned to the pack. I saw my mate Marcus walked through the airport's first-class terminal with Scarlett and their son. They were using my inheritance to fund their luxury vacation to the Maldives. They spotted me. Without hesitation, they pushed me into a silver pit to destroy all evidence. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Scarlett faked her death. This time, I took one look at the scene and declared them beyond saving. I told my assistant to send them to bury them directly.

"After hiding from me for three years, I've finally found you," I say to her, my eyes scanning her from head to toe. "I wasn't hiding. I was simply living my life without you," she scoffs at me, crossing her arms. "It doesn't matter anyway, because here you are now. You look beautiful." "Mr Partridge, I'd appreciate it if we kept things between us strictly professional." There she goes again, calling me by my last name, which was once her own. "We're not working right now. Let's just talk." "Mr Partridge, have a good evening." As she walks away, I'm so captivated by her confidence that I only stand in place and watch her the entire time. I see no trace of the vulnerable woman who was once my wife. Not only is she bold and beautiful, but she hates me. ~~~ Three months after her miscarriage, Layla is served divorce papers by her billionaire husband, Nathan. He wants her to leave because he's reconnected with the girl of his dreams. This leaves Layla shattered and no amount of begging can make him change his mind. Though she starts from scratch in a new town, they meet again three years later. He's now her new boss and this time, he's desperate to win her back With only a thirst for revenge in her heart and a new man in her life who's also a billionaire, is there even the slightest possibility of Nathan getting a second chance to make things right with her? Or is he too late and will live the rest of his life wishing he should've cherished her?

Sample: ' “Motherfucking dog is what he is , damn it” she chugged her drink down . She pointed her unsteady hand at her two best friends who were watching the show unfold . “ All men are the same . HEARTLESS CHEATING BASTARDS . Do you hear me? Heartless cheating bastards ” Casey screamed at the men sitting on a nearby table. “Yes, that's what you all are . Cheaters . Bloodsucking vampires, you use women like chewing gum and spit them out after you use them”. She placed her glass with a loud bang , almost falling off the table. She joined her hands while looking up at the ceiling, blinking . “If someone up there is listening, I wish all these men would suffer from crabs so bad , they would scratch it so hard that their dicks will fall off ”. She looked down and pointed a finger at them. “This is my curse on your species ”. She turned back to her friends leaving behind a group of mortified men with wide eyes who were left there holding their junks in fear . ' Casey has always been a hopeless romantic, searching for the one person who will finally return her love. Owen, on the surface, has it all—wealth, fame, and an endless stream of admirers. Yet despite his many conquests, he shuns commitment, refusing to be tied to anyone. When a scandal threatens his reputation, Owen concocts a plan: a fake engagement to Casey, In return, he promises to help her win a man. It soon grows complicated.Owen finds himself unexpectedly drawn to Casey but just when love seems within reach, Owen's past returns—his ex, stirring old emotions and doubts. What happened next read in my book ‘Mr Wrong'

The day the Thorne family announced our engagement, the New York underworld let out a collective sigh of relief. Because I was set to marry Daemon, the most straitlaced Don in the city, which meant I could no longer be the wild rose who tore up the racetrack. But I resisted with every fiber of my being, finding creative ways to test his limits. During his ten-million-dollar card game with a rival family's Capo, my hand "slipped" and sent a bottle of 1945 Romanee-Conti spilling across the ancient map that outlined their territories, sabotaging the entire negotiation. Daemon, however, just slowly and deliberately wiped the wine from the back of his hand. He didn't even frown as he cleaned up my mess. Then I "accidentally" let my spirited Arabian stallion loose in his immaculately manicured courtyard. The beast went wild, trampling his prize-winning rose garden into mud. But he arrived with his private doctor in tow, crouching before me as his long fingers gently traced the scratch on my arm. "Did the beast hurt you?" Just that one question, and my heart melted completely. "Daemon, I can marry you. But before that, has there ever been another woman who owned your heart?" "I don't share my man. Not in any way." He pointed to his heart, his gaze unwavering as he met my eyes. "Before you, this was empty." After we married, the word on the street in New York's circles of power was this: If you angered Don Thorne, his Donna might plead your case. But if you angered the Donna, you were on your own. Even I began to believe that Daemon, that mountain of ice, would eventually melt for me. Until the day I went to find him, clutching a positive pregnancy test, bursting with joy. Only to hear the family's Consigliere ask him, from the top-floor study, what the best lie he'd ever told was. Daemon chuckled and said casually, "She asked me if anyone had my heart before her." "I told her no."

I'd had a crush on my brother's best friend, Ethan—the most powerful Alpha of our Northern Territory—since I was twelve years old. When I was fifteen, I boldly confessed my feelings to him. He laughed and patted my head, casually promising, "When you turn eighteen and shift, if you're my mate, I'll mark you." That offhand promise became my greatest hope for three years. I spent every day waiting for my wolf to awaken, praying to the Moon Goddess that she would designate us as mates. But on the night of my eighteenth birthday, after my wolf first awakened, I was shocked to discover that Ethan truly was my mate! Ignoring the intense shifting pain coursing through my body, I immediately shifted into my wolf form and ran toward Ethan's training grounds. I clutched the gift I'd prepared long ago, but instead heard Ethan urgently confessing to his Omega assistant Victoria: "Who would be stupid enough to actually care about a true mate? The bond between her and me is just the Moon Goddess's mistake. I only love you. I'll only mark you as my Luna." The words hit me like silver bullets to the chest. My wolf whimpered in pain, the mate bond burning like acid in my veins. I stood frozen behind the trees, watching the man I'd loved for six years dismiss our sacred connection as if it meant nothing. Later, Ethan introduced Victoria as his "fiancée." When Victoria demanded that I publicly bless their marking ceremony, Ethan remained completely indifferent to my humiliation. "Sylvia should give us her blessing," Victoria announced at the pack meeting, her voice sweet as poison. "After all, she's been like a little sister to Ethan all these years." Every wolf in the room could smell my distress. But Ethan said nothing, refusing to even look at me. When rogue wolves attacked our territory and I was surrounded, Ethan didn't hesitate to scoop up Victoria—who had only a tiny scratch on her finger—and carry her away to find the pack healer. He left me bleeding and alone, silver claws ha