Too Handsome To Handle

Avril. A hardworking and bubbly girl who thought that world was beautiful until her world was destroyed. But God didn't worng her so she was reincarnated into a beautiful girl named Daisy who was wronged. She vowed to live a beautiful life and to avenge herself and Daisy.

My husband was working over the holidays, again. He’d been sent out of town to oversee one of the Family’s dock operations and a string of gambling houses.. I decided to buy a ticket and surprise him. Only business class was left. Staring at the five-figure price, I gritted my teeth and spent a year’s worth of savings. Then I couldn’t even figure out how to pull down the damn tray table. The socialite seated next to me let out a cold laugh. “Never flown business class before?” I forced an awkward smile. “My apologies. You must be… important. You have that aura.” “Oh, me? No. The man who keeps me is important. He’d charter a private jet if I asked. Business class is practically slumming it.” I blinked. “A… keeper? That’s rare.” “Not really. I’m his secretary. I mess up a lot. Cost him a fortune. He yells at me until I cry. And then, well… crying leads to other things.” She winked. “You know how it is.” “Funny,” I said, my voice tight. “My husband has an assistant who helps him manage accounts for the docks. She’s always messing things up too.” “You’re married?” She looked me over, head to toe. “My man has a wife about your age. Says he’s sick of her. That touching her is boring. Says I’m more exciting just brushing my hair out of my face.” She leaned closer. “I told him I wanted to see him for New Year’s. So he told the wife he had to work.” The diamond on her finger caught the light. It was identical to the wedding band I’d lost. My body went cold. No. Matteo was just a low-level enforcer. A foot soldier the Family occasionally trusted with small operations—dock shipments, backroom gambling, nothing more. When did he become a Don?

After our company's IPO approval is granted, my boyfriend, Derek Calloway, finally agrees to publicize our relationship at the celebratory banquet. Derek and I have been in a relationship for seven years. For so long, he refuses to make our relationship official. He always cites the fact that office romance is forbidden in the company, and that he, as the CEO, should follow through as a prime example. On the night of the banquet, I wait for the news to be broken with bated breath and unadulterated delight. But when Derek stands on the stage, he chooses to utter the name of the new recruit who has just joined the company for two months—Jocelyn Grant. "It's all thanks to Jocelyn's contributions to the project that our company gets to go public. She's the MVP of our company." I just stand beneath the stage, completely stunned. For a moment, I don't know how to react. I'm the main person in charge of that project, and I'm the one who's contributed the most to that project. Not only have I stayed up countless nights working hard on it, but I also got hospitalized a few times because of it. Soon, I receive Derek's text message. "Jocelyn has just joined this line of work. She needs a project to help spruce her resume up. Just let her receive the credits this once. "We'll discuss more on publicizing our relationship in the future." I can only grip my phone so tightly that my fingertips go white. Finally, I key in one word. "Okay." Jocelyn can have the project. She can also have my position as the director. Heck, she's free to have Derek, my now ex-boyfriend. I'd like to see how these assholes can pass the subsequent trials without me.

Five years after my death, my husband, Lucas Grant, wanted me to take the blame for his lover in a drunk driving incident. He had barged into my house with forged evidence, but realized I was not inside. He had no other choice but to knock on my neighbor’s door. However, my neighbor told him, “Joan? She died a long time ago. “I heard that the family of that case was not happy with the verdict, so they abducted her the day she was released from prison. She was tortured for three days straight!” Lucas did not believe the neighbor. He was furious that I was creating a ridiculous lie just to escape. He yelled angrily at my neighbor. “Don’t think I’ll believe you! Joan must have paid you to lie to me! “Tell her that it’s no use hiding. If she doesn’t contact me in three days, I’ll no longer pay the alimony for that rascal!” However, he did not know that the person that his lover had killed in the drunk driving accident was the very rascal he was referring to.

At the awards for the Global Jewelry Design Competition, my stepsister Sandra took the grand prize. She used the designs she stole from me. What she didn’t know was the show’s biggest sponsor: Jude Moretti. Godfather of the Moretti family. A bloodthirsty monster scarred in an explosion, a man they say can never have children. And the grand prize? Becoming the Godfather’s bride. That night, Moretti’s men, all in black, delivered a gold-trimmed marriage contract. They were here for the “genius designer.” My fiancé, Marco, panicked. He whisked Sandra off to Vegas to save her. They got married that night. With the deed done, Sandra strutted back in, wearing my silk robe. She flashed the ring on her finger and the hickies all over her neck. “Marco’s mine now,” she purred. “What are you going to do, Odessa? The Godfather’s only giving you a day. If you don’t marry him, the Family will have to appease him. That means sending you to the red-light district. Selling you to the kind of sicko who gets off on broken things.” She was wrong. I had another choice. I found my father and stepmother, both scrambling to deal with the contract. “I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll marry the Godfather.”

Just before my wedding, my fate mate, my Alpha fiancé, Micheal, stripped me of my wedding dress—our wedding dress—and handed it to his mistress, Becky Porter. Not only that, but he locked me in the dressing room like some rabid wolf he needed to contain. "Becky has a terminal illness.She just wants to experience being a bride before she dies." I lunged forward, my wolf howling inside me. Alpha's strength pressed against mine, his dominance forcing my muscles to lock. My claws twitched, itching to break free. "You bastard!" I snarled, my breath ragged. Micheal barely blinked. Instead, he let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head . "She’s dying, and you can’t even show a little compassion?" His tone dripped with disappointment, as if I were the villain here. "You’re only losing a wedding, but Becky… Becky is losing her dreams and her life."

It was a national holiday and we decided to drive back to my husband's hometown to spend the holidays. One day before we left, my husband's childhood crush came crying to him that she had not managed to buy train tickets home. My husband immediately decided to let her have my seat in the car and insisted that I take the train instead. I looked at him in disbelief. There was shock in my eyes. Even my son insisted I take the train. "Mommy, Aunt Rosie is so pretty. How could you make her take the train?" I did not argue. I booked my train ticket right in front of them. However, it was to my own hometown. I no longer wanted a biased husband and a disloyal son.

Brianna Lester, with her unusually platinum blonde hair and grayish-blue eyes, is impossible to miss wherever she goes. Her bubbly personality, hyperactivity, innate talent for tripping even while standing still, and her knack for always causing trouble ensure that she immediately catches the attention of the coolest tattoo artist around. Unfortunately, it's not her rather unique appearance that gets noticed, but her clumsiness. The moment she closes the door of the tattoo shop, one of the pictures hanging on the wall-the owner's favorite, and quite valuable-unexpectedly falls down. To make up for the damage, she ends up working at the shop until she can pay off the cost of the picture. It would all be pretty easy if a sexy tattoo artist didn't enjoy teasing her about her bad luck. By now, Brianna has resigned herself to the idea that her life is stuck in the "never a joy" zone, and her birthday is proof of that. Who can be considered lucky if they were born on a day that only comes once every four years? No one. Some people are kissed by fortune at birth, while others are kissed by bad luck. Brianna definitely falls into the latter category.

Newly married and over the moon, Sienna inks her husband’s name on her lower back. A permanent gesture for a forever union, right? Wrong. Five years later, in the throes of a messy divorce, she is back to the tattoo shop to get a coverup tattoo. But she doesn’t expect to find that her tattoo artist is the hottest man alive — and he has been waiting for her. He is Gavin Kessler, the Tattoo Master. Tough on the outside, tougher on the inside. With an ugly past casting a long shadow on his present and future. What starts out as a crazy contract between them spirals into something far more dangerous. Sienna soon realizes she wants more than a tattoo from the Tattoo Master. She wants his díck, his protection, and if the differences between them will allow, his heart. Which of these is Gavin willing to give? ⚠️ WARNING: This book is exclusively for adult audiences (18+). It explores explicit sexual language, morally complex characters, toxic family dynamics and occasional violence.

It was the day of my return. The city was talking about the birthday party my husband was throwing for me. He was a lawyer. But the night before the big day, a message popped up on my husband's cell phone. 'It's been five years. I've been waiting for far too long.' My husband pushed me away, though his face was smeared with guilt. "I'm sorry, honey. The GM wants me on a last-minute work trip. I can't make it in time for your birthday." He left without even missing a beat. I opened up the GPS app and watched the red dot move away. That was him. I got an Uber and tailed him right away. His GM was me. I just got the job, and I approved his leave for my birthday. And then he told me, in my face, that I assigned him on a last-minute work trip when I did no such thing. It was midnight. And I was going to find out who this man was meeting at this witching hour.