Unscramble Hundred

How rich can a person be? My wife is incredibly rich. People call her "The Queen of Cloudridge" because nearly half the city's properties are owned by her. We've been married for five years, and every time she goes out to meet her first love, she transfers a property to my name. By the time I have 99 homes in my name, she suddenly notices that something has changed. I no longer cry, beg, or ask her to stay. I simply choose the finest mansion in all of Cloudridge, bring the property deed with me, and wait for her to sign it. She signs the papers, and for the first time, she softens. "When I get back, let's go watch the fireworks together." I quietly tuck the agreement away and hum in response. But I never tell her what she's really signed this time. It's not a property deed. It's our divorce agreement.

I had been married to Lucius Martin for three years, and in all that time, there was never a shortage of women around him. Each time he brought another woman home, he would give me a necklace worth a fortune. In just three short years, I had accumulated ninety-nine necklaces. When Lucius fastened the hundredth necklace around my neck, I no longer cried or made a scene. Because this time, the woman he cheated with was my own older sister, the one who had beaten and scolded me since we were children. The man I loved most joined hands with the person I hated most to torment me together. At that moment, my heart finally died. This time, I took the initiative and walked up to Lucius, placing a house purchase contract into his hands. "As long as you sign this," I said, "you can do whatever you want with her." A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes, but in the end, he signed without hesitation. For the first time ever, he even leaned down and gently kissed my cheek. "Good girl," he murmured. "You've finally learned to behave." I personally opened the car door for him and watched as he hurried off toward my sister. When the car disappeared completely from sight, I let out a long breath. Then I reached beneath the documents and pulled out the paper hidden there—a divorce agreement.

Mula sa isang "blended family," si Chantelle ay lumaking naiiba. Siya'y pinalaki nang may pagmamahal ng kanyang lola matapos mawala ang kanyang ina. Itinakwil siya ng kanyang amang si Gérard, na kontrolado ng bagong asawang si Rhonda, at napag-iwanan ng kanyang mababaw na kapatid na si Mégane. Natutunan niyang mabuhay sa katahimikan. Nang magkasakit nang malubha ang kanyang lola, isang diagnosis ang gumulo sa kanyang buhay. Walang suportang pamilya ni sapat na pera, tinanggap ni Chantelle ang isang hindi inaasahang alok: isang daang gabi kapalit ng isang milyong euro, kasama ang isang mayamang lalaking hindi niya malalaman ang pagkakakilanlan. Sa bawat pagkikita, nakasuot ng maskara ang lalaki, nananatiling tahimik, at hindi pinapayagang magsalita si Chantelle. Tanging mga anonymous na bank transfer at isang nakakalunod na pabango ang naiiwan niyang alaala. Isang araw, napilitan siya ng kanyang ama na dumalo sa isang family dinner. Doo'y nabigla siya nang makitang kasama ang nobyo ni Mégane: si Collen Wilkinson, ang malamig at hindi maabot na CEO ng malakas na kumpanyang pinapasukan niya bilang isang simpleng empleyado. Nang magkasalubong ang kanilang mga mata, nagulo siya. Isang detalye ang sumiklab sa kanyang isip: ang pabango nito. Iyon mismo ang pabango ng lalaking naka-maskara na kasama niya sa labindalawang gabi... at may natitira pang walumpu't walo. Ngayon, pumasok ito sa kanyang buhay sa liwanag ng araw, at kailangan niyang harapin ang katotohanang nagkukubli sa likod ng nakagugulong kontratang ito.

Born into a blended family, Chantelle grew up on the sidelines, raised with love by her grandmother after her mother's death. Shut out by her father Gérard, dominated by his new wife Rhonda, and relegated to the background behind her pretentious stepsister Mégane, she learned to survive in silence. When her grandmother is diagnosed with a terminal illness, Chantelle's world crumbles. With no family support and overwhelmed by medical bills, she accepts a desperate proposition: one hundred nights for one million euros, with a wealthy man whose identity she will never know. The rules are simple. A blindfold over her eyes, a stranger's touch, and silence. He never speaks. She never sees. He leaves her with anonymous bank transfers... and the haunting scent of his perfume as her only memory. Twelve nights pass. Then, forced by her father to attend a family dinner, Chantelle comes face to face with Mégane's fiancé: Collen Wilkerson—the cold, unapproachable CEO of the powerful corporation where she works as a simple employee. He is a man she knows only from a distance. Arrogant. Untouchable. But when he steps closer, a familiar scent wraps around her, and the world stops. It's his perfume. The same as the masked man. She has already spent twelve nights in his arms. And there are still eighty-eight to go.

To Rosetta, life was way too short to be lived within strict rules. The night before she turned 18, Rosetta signed up to be a one-time stripper at a private bar, and she ends up in the bed of a mysterious stranger who takes her to heaven and back. The following morning, he leaves before she awakens, making her to wonder if he was ever real. When her mother remarries for the third time, Rosetta is forced to relocate to Los Angeles with her, and her world falls apart when she realizes that her mother's new husband is the same man she had met weeks earlier at the club. Damon Brooks is her latest stepfather! Now, she has to fight her growing feelings for the only man who makes her mother happy, and risk losing a chance with him. Does it get better or worse when she finds out that Damon is falling, even harder for her, right under the nose of her mother? What happens when her step father gives her 100 days to enjoy their dirty little game, after which everything must end. Can Rosette handle the pain of what happens after? There's only one way to find out. Read this book, Now!

I’m about to enter a blood bond with another vampire lord. But my partner of a century, Kaelan, has no idea. He’s too busy getting cozy with his new human assistant, Sylvia. They spend entire nights in his office, under the guise of “researching synthetic blood.” He even turned our centennial anniversary into her birthday party. In front of everyone, Kaelan presented her with a Black Forest cake decorated with Silver Bells. They laughed, smearing frosting on each other. They forgot the flowers are a deadly poison to me. My power shattered. Agony ripped through me as shadows lashed out, uncontrollable. My family’s guards had to drag my convulsing body away. And while I recovered alone in the cold, dark vault, Kaelan was still at the party, bathing in the cheers for him and Sylvia. The blood in my veins turned to ice. A century of love and hope burned to ash. In that moment, I agreed to my family's arrangement. Without hesitation. A union with the lord of the Obsidian Throne—a vampire they say is power incarnate.

When my family went bankrupt, I was drugged and sent to the bed of my childhood sweetheart, Craig Kennedy. From that night, he brought women home every evening, tossing a divorce agreement in my face. "Beg me, and I won't leave you." He stood above me, watching as I humbled myself to dust, pleading to preserve our marriage. He even ordered me to kneel in his office and massage the feet of his secretary, Lucia Langston. On the day the Moore Group needed ten million to survive, she blocked all my desperate calls for help. I waited 24 hours, watching my family's legacy collapse and my parents take their lives. Craig, with Lucia at his side, entered the house and threw the signed divorce agreement at me again. "You wanted money to save your family, didn't you? Beg me, and as long as I don't divorce you, no one will touch them." But I signed it with calm despair. "Don't bother. We no longer need your help."

I made a deal with Sonia Quindt—the billionaire CEO. After I'd proposed to her ninety-nine freaking times, she swore she'd finally show up for the hundredth. Spoiler: she didn't. She was out there at some concert with her boy toy. And, of course, someone caught them on livestream. Big kiss. Big viral moment. Meanwhile, my face was plastered all over the internet too—lonely guy number one, waiting for a bride who never existed. Everyone online started making bets. Who was the mystery woman? How long until I came crawling back for the hundred-and-first proposal? Sonia, apparently struck by some last-minute guilt, promised she'd make it right next time. Said she'd actually show up. And she did. Wedding dress. Perfect makeup. Cameras ready. She got a text from me: [Sonia, there won't be a hundred-and-first proposal. We're done.]

My wife, Rosalind Judd, has been tearing up our marriage certificate 99 times in the past ten years of our marriage. This is her usual tactic to make me apologize and make amends. The first time, I transfer 100 thousand dollars for Rosalind to come back from her travel abroad with her childhood friend, Jackson Lane. The tenth time, she ruins the anniversary I have prepared meticulously and forces me to immediately help him get back to work. The 50th time, she humiliates me in front of my client during the day and forces me to sign over the transfer agreement to a villa at night, while she has a candlelit dinner with Jackson. ... Now, for the 100th time, she forces me to transfer my company shares. Staring at the love bites on Rosalind's collarbone, I suddenly chuckle. Then, I board the plane decisively. This time, I no longer want her.

I begged my boss, Arthur Hutton, ninety-eight times for us to get officially married. Each time, he canceled our plans because his childhood sweetheart deliberately lured him away. On the ninety-ninth attempt, I waited for him at the city hall. Arthur simply patted my head and then put up a sign on the door that read, [Serena Xander and Dogs Not Allowed.] He said indifferently, “Millie’s throwing a fit, and I can’t calm her down. I need to marry her first. “I’ll divorce her, so just wait for me. Next Wednesday is a good day. I’ll marry you then.” But he did not know that I only had ninety-nine chances to give. I would be resigning the following week.