Twelve Tone Scale

My boyfriend's childhood sweetheart bound herself to a transfer system: everything she ate would be redirected straight into my stomach. She opened a streaming account and broadcast herself eating for twelve hours straight. She earned a fortune. Meanwhile, I collapsed with acute pancreatitis and was rushed to the hospital. When I explained the situation to my boyfriend, he only stared at me like I was insane. "How could something that absurd exist? If food could really be transferred, no one in the world would ever starve. You're just jealous that she's making money from streaming." After that, every time his childhood sweetheart went live, I ended up hospitalized again. I kept hovering between life and death. I sought medical help, but the doctors couldn't explain my condition. Some even wanted to commit me to a psychiatric ward. Then, one day, in order to outdo her rivals in a PK match, she devoured ten pounds of rice in a single sitting. At that very moment, my spleen and stomach ruptured, and I bled to death on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of her very first livestream. This time, I was prepared. I rushed out and bought twenty takeout meals. "This time," I said, "I'll eat first."

Love For The Wicked Book Three. In my eyes, the world is a huge sandbox created for the big boys. Girls, money, business… and I always strive to come out on top until my father gave me an ultimatum. I needed to find a wife, or I’d lose my rights to the family business. I found the perfect woman for the scheme I devised, of course. She was beautiful, feisty, the picture-perfect wife to make my father believe I was done playing games. In return, she needed a favor, the kind that takes nine months to deliver. The rules were laid out meticulously, from the no touching to fake falling in love. After a year, we would part ways amicably with no hassle, no demands, and no regrets; after all, it was all just a game. As my plan took its course, it dawned on me that playing house was a game I never should have played. She started to grow on me, from that sexy little pout to the late nightcap, the endless dirty banter, and even the fights we had. I realize I enjoyed having her around. Trouble is, how will I make her believe I am not playing games anymore? That I don’t want her to be just my contract wife, that I don’t want twelve months with her but more?

"You're so cheap. And you don't even have a basic sense of shame." "I am not cheap at all. You are my first man. But for her, you aren't." He cupped my neck with his hand directly and asked word by word, "What did you say?" I reached out and pinched his waist gently with my fingers, pretending to be cynical. Then I added, "And I'm clean. I don't have any other man but you. You can enjoy me as much as you want." *********************** Every woman was looking forward to marrying her beloved man. So was I. I married Patrick Cowell, the man who I had a crush on for twelve years, in the name of my sister. My sister Caroline and I were twins, but she grew up in a rich and noble family while I grew up in an orphanage. She begged me to marry Patrick as her substitute because she didn't want to marry him. I agreed sweetly. Patrick was the only heir of the richest family in this city. Handsome, rich, and powerful. However, I didn't expect that he treated me cruelly in bed as if I was his enemy. Because he knew I was not his bride? Oh no!!!

Jessie Stewart spent twelve years as an orphan before she was finally brought home to the Stewart family. For the first time in her life, she had parents and brothers. But the very people who promised to love and protect her turned against her. Bruce Stewart, her father, who once vowed she'd be his cherished daughter, told her that if she had any conscience at all, she wouldn't fight Mia Stewart, her adoptive sister, for a man. Her brothers, who swore they'd spoil her rotten, dragged her onto an operating table just to draw blood for Mia. As for her fiancé, Henry Lawson, every time things got dangerous, he chose to protect Mia instead of her. Three years later, Jessie's parents were on their knees in tears. Her once arrogant brothers slapped themselves in shame. Even her arrogant ex-fiancé knelt at her feet. They all begged her to come back. Little did they know, Jessie's heart had long since been closed off during those countless nights of pain and betrayal. She had already met the love of her life. In the years to come, she would never again be alone. He tended to her every need. To him, Jessie was everything and more.

“We…shouldn’t be doing this,” Stacey moaned as she felt Noah’s lips kiss the side of her neck. “Tell me to stop, and I will,” he whispered. “I’m twelve years older than you; what would the world say?” “I don’t care what the damn world says. The only thing I care about is the woman in front of me.” He kissed her on that same sensitive spot on her neck. “So I say again, Professor, tell me to stop and I will.” ****** 32-year-old Stacey Smith's life comes crashing down when she discovers her husband's betrayal. Seeking comfort, her best friend drags her to a club where she ends up having a one-night stand with a stranger. Stacey is shocked to realize the guy she slept with is one of her students, the popular star basketball player of her school, 20-year-old Noah Baker. What happens when an unlikely romance blooms between the two? In an era of scrutiny and criticism, how would they handle the world's reaction to their unusual love? And with Noah’s future hanging on the line, her ex-husband and a new love interest her age after Stacey, would they be able to overcome all the challenges they face, or would they cave in and walk different paths?

"You do know I am a whore and wherever I go in this city, I will be recognized, be it under a disguise or not?" Penelope arched a brow at Quinlan, capturing his attention with her voice immediately. "Well…" Quinlan paused and let his mind waver for a second, "you could impersonate a male." "Heavens! Dressing up as a man to get myself pleasured?" "Yes, I see nothing wrong with that. It's only an hour or two, thing." "How about we invite a man into our home?" "I'm afraid that's impossible." Quinlan's tone was as sharp as his jaw. "Right." Penelope placed the papers on the desk, "where do I sign?" *** A deal between a heartbroken nobel man and the town's biggest whore. Quinlan wanted to keep his position as the Alpha's beta because he was close to being relieved of his duties since the Alpha recently wedded his lover. Penelope was after the money and wanted to go on a hiatus from the pleasure house. So the two married through a contact, unbeknownst of what lies ahead.

Despite my parents' objections, I stay by Julian Grant's side for ten years. He goes from having nothing to building his own empire. The moment it's time to fulfill our ten-year promise, I proudly tell my parents I'm going to marry him. But then, he gives the vice president position meant for me to another woman. I confront him only to overhear a woman's hesitant voice behind the door. "Mr. Grant... you gave me the VP role, but what about Ms. Jones? Aren't you two getting married?" Julian's tone is cold and sharp, though his face is calm and unaffected. "Noelle's been with me for ten years. Who else would even want her? Relax—she won't dare make a scene." The words hit me like a slap to the face. Without another word, I turn and make a call to my arranged marriage contact. "Are you free?" I ask. "Let's get married."

"You belong to me!" he said in his deep, husky voice, sending shivers down my spine. "And you are mine to love, princess!" His tone was full of possessiveness. "Let me go-" I started to protest, but he silenced me by pressing his index finger to my lips. "Shh, be quiet!" he whispered softly against my lips. I looked into his eyes, which were filled with desire and longing. "It's just you and me tonight, and I want to make it special for us," his strong voice sent chills down my spine. My heart raced as I felt his fingers at the edge of my dress, ready to tear it away. *"I'm about to do the most sinful things with you now, Jaan!"* His voice echoed in my ears. "I've waited long enough!" His voice grew deeper with desire. "No, please-"before I finish my sentence, he interrupted me as air rushed around my body. He ripped my dress in two pieces.

"I...Is he my son?" He asked in shock when he saw my son Aldo standing beside me, and I tried to hide Aldo behind my body protectively, scared that now he might take my son from me when he finds out that he is his son, and all this time I have been keeping it a secret. "No! He is not." I lied, trying to sound confident, but I knew I was failing miserably as my forehead was sweaty and my tone was trembling. "Shut up, Sab. Don't lie to me, because you clearly mentioned that the only man who has been inside of you is me. And, even if you lie, no one is going to believe that this boy isn't my son because he looks just like me. Now, the question is, Why did you keep him away from me all this time? Why?!" he barked out the last sentence in anger, making me flinch and Aldo cry out of fear from this man. The Ruthless Italian Tycoon that I had one night stand with and ended up pregnant with his secret heir.

My five years of marriage to Elliot Kline turned out to be a cruel joke. "For tomorrow's monthly report meeting, I'd like Yvette to present your branding plan," Elliot said, not looking up from his desk. I put down the files I was organizing, certain I had misheard. "What?" "Yvette just joined the company. She needs a chance to prove herself. Your plan is perfect for that." He lifted his head, his tone brooking no argument. "But that's my entry for the Veriania Creative Competition," I protested. "You win awards every year. What's the harm in letting her have it this time?" He shrugged, adding, "We need to nurture new talent." I stared at the man with whom I had shared a bed for five years. His face suddenly felt so unfamiliar to me. "Do you know how many sleepless nights I poured into that plan? And you're giving it to a new intern?" "Don't be so petty. It's just a plan. My decision is made." My fists clenched, anger surging through me.