Topless Hand

Today is Lia's 28th birthday and found herself bidding for a man to take her virginity! "The bidding for him will start now!" the MC announced on the side. “29 thousand!” A woman screamed. "29 thousand, going twice, going trice, is there no one going to fight?" The MC asked. Lia didn't know what was going through her mind to raise her hand, "30 thousand!" She shouted before the bidding was closed. "30 thousand, the bidding is close! You'll have one hot night with him!"

Three years after our breakup, I ran into my ex-girlfriend, and she had her new boyfriend by her side. "Hey, isn't that Henry the expert?" Diego Stanley taunted with a smirk. "Three years post-breakup, and you're slumming it here playing with clay?" I furrowed my brow, ignored them, and carefully moved the Victorian-era porcelain musician figurine onto its preset base in the display case. When I wasn't biting, he reached out to grab the figurine from my arms. "What's this junk you're treating like gold? Let me take a look." Cynthia Wyatt frowned, her voice laced with that familiar arrogance. "Henry, I've given you three years to shape up, and you're still the same loser? Come on, hand over that clay doll to Diego. Don't kill the vibe. If you play nice, I might even reconsider our old engagement." As Diego's hand neared the figurine, I dodged quickly and barked, "Hands off! It's a historical artifact!" Diego got pissed off and shoved me hard. "Some flea market find, and you're acting all high and mighty?" In the ensuing scuffle, I lost my balance, and the figurine slipped from my grasp, crashing to the floor. That sealed their fate. This entitled pair was about to go bankrupt trying to fix it.

Waking up crushed under a man, I nearly screamed—until I saw who it was. Adrian. My cold, obsessive husband. The man I spent a lifetime escaping from. In my past life, I trusted the wrong people. Betrayed the only man who ever protected me and died alone. One life ruined me. This one? I’ll ruin everyone who tries again. Now, the game is mine and I write the rules. I'll act sweet. Stay mysterious. And pit every snake against each other. And as for my dangerously obsessed husband? I will tame—wait... WAIT! I was just being a little gentle, why is this tyrant acting like a delicate princess? 'Hey, hey, stop clinging to me! What? You want cuddles? Head pats? You—You are not a cat, Adrian!' … “He’s deathly allergic to strawberries? But he devoured one from my hand like it’s a miracle elixir.” “He has sleeping disorders? But he hugged me and passed out like a lazy cat!” “He’s sulking… because I didn’t hold his hand?” When he saw me hugging my female best friend? He lost his mind. Yanked me into his arms and growled, “Mine,” like a deranged villain in love. I finally understood: no one else ever stood a chance. I was his only obsession.

I set fire to my painting in front of the entire academy. Thunderous applause erupts from the crowd as everyone thinks it's some kind of performance art. Unlike them, Willow Laurent is distraught. She rushes up and grabs my hand, questioning in a shrill voice, "Cassidy Seymour, have you gone mad? This is your only chance to prove yourself!" I shake her hand off me coldly. My only chance? No… What she means is that it's her chance. In my past life, I created this masterpiece with all my heart and soul. But she stole it from me and submitted it as her entry first. Whether it was the composition, the colors, or even my original dot-stippling technique… She replicated every detail flawlessly. Then, she won the National Young Artists Gold Award, signed with a top gallery, and became a rising star. And what about me? I was condemned as a shameless plagiarist. Insults and curses gradually drowned me. "You shouldn't be an artist!" "Plagiarists are scum! They should just die!" Her fans stormed into my studio, smashed my art supplies, and broke my right hand. As I saw no end to the hell that I was living in, I jumped down from the top floor of my studio. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the very day she first accuses me of plagiarism.

“I'm not just the vampire king of tales, Ellie. I'm a talented artist.” Vanchure said with every stroke he made on the canvas with his paintbrush. “So you can either be the one posing on my couch, behind the canvas, or be the one whose blood I will use in replacement for paints.” In a mystical world named Shirlon, there was a division of two powerful mythical creatures, two great kingdoms, with two great rulers. Speaking of which were the Black Pack, the werewolves, and the Thorx Coven, the vampire with the respect of law and order. These two kingdoms had a ball of symbiosis where they worked hand in hand to maintain their stable world. The werewolves were considered as the soldiers, the ones left to do the tough and dirty jobs within both kingdoms. While the soldiers had the day and night to themselves, the vampire blossomed in the dark. The vampires were also known as Royalties. They've been known to have ancient riches, making them superior to the soldiers. In these two kingdoms, they had their kings. Eamonn, Alpha of Black Pack, and Vanchure, king of Thorx Coven. They had maintained the order of peace and had always set their boundaries between each other until Ellie came along. Ellie was born of the soldiers, just a commoner that the Alpha of her Pack proclaimed as a mate. Ellie was set on a path to rescue her missing sister from the hands of the vampire king, Vanchure. But on her first encounter with that handsome devil, her whole life takes a different turn.

“If you say my name, then I promise to give you a treat.” Isabella smiled coyly, biting her lip while twirling a lock of hair around her index finger. "Dad... why can't we just have sex in your room? Mom's not home, so..." Isabella's words were cut short as her stepfather silenced her with a firm hand over her lips, and in a swift, fluid motion, he spun her around, pressing her face against the wall. "No time for negotiation, my dear." He stated, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "I want to fuck you right here, right now. Bend over," he ordered. His palm was still covering her mouth as his other hand roamed downward, slipping past her lips to explore the depths of her body. Isabella gasped! *** Isabella Roland finds her world turned upside down when she was forced to move in with her estranged mother and stepfather after her beloved uncle’s death. On that very day, she broke up with her boyfriend and had a passionate one-night stand with a stranger—only to discover the next day that the man was her stepfather. They swore it would never happen again, but the pull between them was impossible to resist. "But what happens when they're caught in the act?" "Will their forbidden affair destroy everything they hold dear, or will it lead to something even more dangerous and enticing?"

At our bachelor party, Harry Cole, my fiance and I played Truth or Dare with his friends. We spun the bottle, and it stopped in front of Joanna, a woman he had known since childhood. The dare was to do the deed with the person placed right next to you, and Harry had been sitting beside her the entire evening. Feeling uncomfortable, I quickly said, “Why don’t you just pick Truth instead of Dare?” Joanna, however, did not back down. She sent me a look full of contempt and replied, “Don’t be such a prude, Suzie. It’s not that big of a deal. If I don’t mind, why should you?” She then looked at Harry. “Do you mind, Harry?” Everyone around us started cheering them on. Someone said, “Suzie can’t have fun to save her own life. If Harry doesn’t want to, I will gladly do it. Pick me, Joanna!” I grabbed Harry’s hand and turned to leave, but he flung my hand off. “What about Joanna? She has no one to help her if I leave. We’re about to get married, Suzie. Can’t I have one last night of freedom?” After saying that, he pinned Joanna under him, and his friends just cheered even more. I stared at him and Joanna. At that moment, I no longer saw a future for us.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

“If you want your freedom, you must be willing to pay a heavy price for it, Amelia.” Ashton brought me back to reality with his words. For a moment, it was like I was absorbed into his blue eyes. I turned away to hide my blush. ** Amelia thought she could live a different life after receiving an inheritance from her father. Still, she was caught in a situation that required her to accept a marriage arranged by her father long ago with the Romano family, one of the largest mafia clans that control various international business networks. To claim her full inheritance, Amelia must be willing to marry Ashton Romano, the adopted son of Alessandro Romano, who is her mother’s new husband. Amelia has no choice but to accept the marriage. Ashton’s charm slowly makes Amelia want to involve her feelings in their marriage. Still, on the other hand, Amelia finally knows the true identity of her mother’s new family. Amelia also feels her goal of having a life free from anyone is getting slimmer. Her distrust of her husband hinders her feelings for Ashton. On the other hand, her ex-boyfriend Mattew Albano returns to give Amelia hope for a life of happiness and freedom. Amelia’s trust and care are at stake between the two men, heirs to two of the biggest mafia clan families ever. Will Amelia choose to stay with her marriage with Ashton, or will Mattew’s presence be enough to make Amelia believe in the man’s promise that was delayed for her?

At the class reunion, Grace Sullivan grabs me and tears into me with vicious lies. "She's an exiled Rogue who slept her way to the top with the director, Damian Pierce! My father's bed at the clinic? She spread her legs for it!" She slaps me across the face, rallying others to join the beating. Finally, she stomps down hard on my hand, the one gripping the scalpel, crushing the bones. Ethan Carter just stands there watching, cold and unmoved. He doesn't lift a finger to stop her. The pain sends tremors through my entire body, but I scream right back at her. "You're just jealous that I'm the better healer, that Ethan chose me over you, so you made up filthy lies to destroy me! "I'm a healer. Right now, your father is dying, and I'm the one who can save him. You want to stop me? Then get ready to plan his funeral." That's when my father, Damian, storms in and roars the truth for everyone to hear. "She's my daughter! Everything she has, she earned!" With my shattered hand, I push through the pain and charge into the operating room anyway. I'm not just saving a life tonight. I'm making sure the liar and the traitor both pay the price they deserve.