Trolls Table Cloth

I died the day my husband forced the doctors to take our baby from my womb. I thought I’d never love again after losing my ex-boyfriend to a heart attack. But fate gave me a second chance. I married the man I adored, a billionaire named Maxwell. Just when I was about to share the joyful news of my pregnancy, I caught him getting cozy with my best friend, Morgana. Worse, he believed her lies: I was a drug addict. The truth? I was battling a severe mental illness triggered by my ex’s death. I needed medication to cope, but Maxwell never cared to understand. He refused to believe a word I said. They locked me away in a private rehab clinic. But that place wasn’t for healing, it was a trap. Morgana used it to cut me off from Maxwell and torment me without consequence. And just when I thought things couldn’t get worse… Maxwell signed off on a surgery to take my baby. I lay on that cold operating table, tears streaming down my face, and died in the fire that followed—broken, betrayed, and alone. But I never expected to wake up again. This time, I have a new life. A new family. And even one of my children survived. Maxwell, Morgana—this time, I’m coming back. And you’re both going to pay.

“Here. Sign this and you can start immediately. If you have anything important at home, bring it here....I’ll provide you with everything. "Clothes, food, whatever you need,” he said, the smirk returning to his face. She reached for the file hesitantly, her eyes narrowing slightly. Something felt…off. Too quick. Too intense. Just as she was about to flip through the pages, her phone rang. Tring… Tring… She glanced at Liam. He nodded. “It’s okay.” She quickly signed the last page without reading. Inside, her instincts itched. Something didn’t sit right. But she brushed the feeling off. Maybe he was just one of those flirty, arrogant bosses. “You signed without reading it,” he said in a whisper only she could hear. “Bold.” “I trust Liam,” she replied. Vincenzo smiled, not the kind that made people feel safe. She handed the file back and turned to leave. Vincenzo stood silently, watching her go. The way her hair swayed. The curve of her waist. That innocent look in her eyes. As she disappeared around the corner, he exhaled sharply. “Such a girl,” he muttered under his breath. “I never expected someone like her in my life, that face, those lips. Those curves.” He laughed, low and full of wicked pleasure. “Oh, Vincenzo De Luca. You are one lucky bastard.” He reached for the contract she had just signed and tapped his fingers on the table, a smirk growing on his face. “Welcome to my kingdom, once again” he said. “You just sold yourself to the devil.” He ran a finger slowly across her photo again, his smirk spreading. “Such a fucking beauty,” he muttered under his breath. “And she walked right into my trap"

“I paid you! Why do you keep stalking me, then?” She burst out, while glancing at the door as if she was expecting someone to come in and save her. Not that she needed any saving though. I placed both hands on the table, and leaned down towards her. “We fucked.” My lips curled. Her face colored crimson. “It was a nightstand. Adults have one nightstands all the time. Moreover, I paid you-” “I’m not other people, Inez Raymond,” I said, cutting off her words. “Let’s make a deal.” Interest sparked within her eyes, yet she eyed me cautiously. “What deal?” “That you'll agree to be my wife for three months. If you don't fall in love with me during that period, I'll let you be.” She hesitated. “No sex?” I smirked. “I can't promise that. So, what do you say?” She took a deep breath. “Okay.” *** In her drunken and broken hearted haze, Inez Raymond has a one nightstand with a stranger. She pays him off the next morning, and part ways with him. But then, he starts stalking her. When he forces her into a deal with him, she agrees. What she doesn't know is that the stranger was connected with her in ways she could never imagine. Nor was she aware that she was the only heiress of the most powerful family in Europe, second only to the Celvins. While she's determined not to fall in love with him within three months, he's determined to make her fall in love with him, to find out who made her lose her memory years ago, while helping her get revenge on her ex-husband. Who will emerge champion, in their little game of chess?

The silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Kourtney paced in front of him, her heels clicking against the dusty floor of the abandoned villa. The contract lay untouched on the table, just inches from Travis’s restrained hands. Her plan had been reckless, but it was all she had left. “I didn’t want to do this,” she murmured, voice shaking. “But you gave me no choice.” Travis tilted his head. “You think tying me to a chair will change how I feel?” “No. But it changes what you’re allowed to do,” she said, forcing a smirk that didn’t reach her eyes. He didn’t flinch. “What happens after the wedding, Kourtney? When your father finds out? When Kim finds out?” She looked away. “Then it’ll be too late. I’ll have what’s mine.” “Money?” he asked. “Or revenge?” That struck something in her. Kourtney turned to him, face darkening. “You chose her. You loved her. But what about me, Travis? You never even gave me a chance.” “You think forcing me into marriage will give you love?” “No,” she whispered. “But it’ll give me power.” Travis met her eyes. No fear. Just sadness. “This isn’t you,” he said softly. “You don’t know me anymore,” she replied, backing away. “Sign the contract, Travis. Or I swear, I’ll make sure you never walk free again.” Travis looked down at the paper, then back at her. “You’ll lose yourself in this, Kourtney.” She swallowed hard. “Then maybe losing myself is the only way I survive.”

"Help me tighten this?" Her voice trembles as she turns her bare back to the doorway. Calloused fingers brush her spine – but it’s not her stepmother. It’s Asher Voss, SU’s star quarterback and her new stepbrother, smirking in the mirror， "Next time you mistake me for Mom..." His breath scorches her ear. "...I’ll leave a real mark." To survive the sweltering New York summer before college, Wendy Wu makes a deal with Asher: Act like strangers once school starts. He’ll remain the untouchable quarterback; she’ll be just another exchange student. No eye contact. No acknowledgement. Ever. But when her father’s long hauls and her stepmother’s busy schedule force Asher into babysitting duty, the lines blur: In the kitchen, he catches her weeping over a shelter documentary and lifts her against his sweat-drenched chest. Garage doors rattle open – his grip tightens: "Hold on. Unless you want them to see you like this." At a party, her friend spots a cherry hair tie on his wrist before he drags her into a dark hallway: "You didn’t want to see me?" His whiskey-laced kiss brands her lips. "Yet your eyes undressed me all night." In a restaurant, a rival girl glares through the window. He traps Wendy’s thigh under the table， "Call me ‘brother’ and I’ll save you."  Their secret collapses. Wendy ends it, and he freezes her out in public， "Do I know you?" Until a rain-lashed night when Ahser, drenched and desperate, pins her to the wall， "Don’t tell me you do not regret the breakup" His teeth find her collarbone. "I have to admit it-- I miss you." Can a love forged in stolen touches survive the spotlight? Or will their step-sibling bond shatter them both?

☆☆☆☆ "So, Tyson, do you just lurk around waiting to interrupt people or is that a special service you offer?" He leaned against the table, his gaze locking with mine. "I'd say it's a special service, but only for certain people. I wouldn't want you to think I'm not paying enough attention to you, love." "Is that so?" I raised an eyebrow, challenging him, "Because I was under the impression you enjoyed making my life difficult, not keeping an eye on it." He chuckled, crossing his arms. "Well, it seems like you could use the excitement." "Oh, trust me, my life's exciting enough without you stirring up trouble." I scoffed, but the corners of my mouth twitched upwards in a reluctant smile. "But, perhaps I'm the kind of trouble you need." ☆☆☆☆ Ashley, the daughter of a millionaire, moves to a new city and hopes for a fresh start. With her sharp wit, she often finds herself at the center of school drama, not by choice, but by circumstances. Intent on maintaining a low profile at her new campus, her plan quickly falls apart when she mistakenly parks her bike in a reserved spot. Tyson, the school's notorious bad boy, is not just a troublemaker, but he's the youngest gang leader to be a part of a powerful mafia, feared by many but understood by few. Despite his fearsome reputation in the streets while other leaders might see him as a mere boy, Tyson is fiercely loyal to his inner circle, showing a side of him that few ever see. What will happen when their paths cross? ☆☆☆☆ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 #1 𝐨𝐟, 𝐇𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. "𝑫𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎." ☆☆☆☆

She was sent to kill. Instead, she might be the one destined to end it all. Lea, a top-tier assassin for the secretive High Table, has never missed a mark—until now. What was supposed to be a routine mission turns into a long-term “quest” in the quiet town of Mystique Gore, assisting a cold, commanding man in a mansion older than memory. Strange? Yes. Dangerous? Definitely. But what’s worse? The mission wasn’t for a target... it was for *her*. Marked by a power she doesn’t understand and haunted by dreams that aren’t hers, Lea finds herself entangled in a world she never believed existed—one ruled by vampires, witches, and werewolves hiding in plain sight. And at the center of it all is Ivan, the enigmatic master of the house who knows more than he says... and watches her like she’s already his. As her assassin instincts clash with ancient prophecies, forbidden truths, and a mark that binds her fate to something much bigger, Lea must uncover why the High Table sent her here—and why the supernatural world is afraid of *her*. They say she’s the beginning. They say she’s the end. They say she must die to keep the peace. But Lea doesn’t take orders. She gives them.

WARNING ⚠️: This book contains some violence, explicit and mature content, BDSM, and is highly rated 18+. Just once, he thrust deeper and my lips gaped, trembling…my fingers squeezed his cloth tighter. “Why do you smell this way? Just why?” his voice was barely a whisper. I wanted to answer him…to tell him he was the whore here, but fućk…..he pushed into me deeper, once, twice and again. …… It was supposed to be a seven day contract and then we parted ways, but I didn't just end up being his rival…one whose mother he's been searching for all these years, but also I became the slave who the Alpha king relieves his stress in her damped fold. Was it the matebond? I doubted it. He wasn't just all over me, but I also prayed each day that he sends for me, have me tied up and f*cked until my body convulsed under him. He was dominant and possessive, and I submitted to every bit of him…

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.

“Sandra why did you wear that slutty cloth to the nightclub?” He asked her, anger flicking in his eyes.“You are a naughty girl,” he murmured, before circling her and stopping suddenly to bite her hard on her ears.“That’s for showing what’s mine out!” Prof Tyler murmured before his right hands moved down to her fat ass and spanked her hard.“Argggggh,” Sandra screamed.“You get treated like a slut if you act like one,” Prof Tyler said while his big hands continued smacking the shit out of her ass.“I’m... so...sorrry.. daddy,” Sandra whimpered. Immediately after she murmured those words Tyler eyes zeroed in on her lips before he claimed her lips voraciously.“This is mine,” He screamed while holding on tight to her ass. “And I don’t want you showing other riff raffs what belongs to me!” He snapped. Will their love story endure the weight of their hidden secrets, or will the revelations lead to its downfall? Dive into this gripping tale as Sandra faces the difficult task of confessing her relationship with her best friend's father. In the midst of this revelation, a surprising twist unfolds when Sandra discovers that Professor Tyler is a werewolf.