Ventrecanard Face

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.

My dormmate, Summer Lodge, always uses heavy-duty electrical appliances to cook in our dorm. I kindly remind her that it's a fire hazard and that she'll get a demerit if the college finds her out, but she snaps at me and tells me to mind my own business. One day, her oven bursts into flames and burns one of our dormmates—the daughter of an affluent family—to death. When the college investigates the matter to apportion the blame, Summer and another dormmate push the blame on me. I'm expelled and cyberbullied. My dead dormmate's boyfriend even comes after me for revenge. He shoves me and my family into the furnace at a crematorium. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day when Summer decides to make a meal with the oven.

The smoothie shop was a whirlwind of activity during the lunch rush when a customer's call shattered my focus. "Is this the manager?" a sharp voice demanded. "I ordered a smoothie with just a touch of sugar. Why is it so sweet?" I checked her order and explained calmly, "Miss, Chocolate Bliss has a naturally sweet base." Not long after, she called again. "I asked for five ice cubes. Why are there only four?" Swamped and barely keeping up, I apologized and moved on. Before I could catch my breath, the phone rang once more. "I requested the guy in the black shirt to deliver my order. Why did a girl show up?" Suppressing my irritation, I clarified, "Miss, we handle the drinks; deliveries are managed by couriers." Finally, the calls stopped. But as the rush subsided, the headquarters called, telling me that a customer had lodged a complaint, accusing me of seducing her boyfriend.

Half a year after our divorce, my ex-husband became a trending topic online. His current wife, who had just given birth, jumped off a building. When she jumped, she was clutching a printed, 98-page copy of the "Cloves Family Code of Conduct." The reason for her suicide? She couldn’t buy discounted groceries online. A reporter came to interview me and asked, "Excuse me, were you also given the same family rules?"

A contract that could change their lives forever. Ethan, an arrogant man who doesn't care about anything other than the amount of zeros in his bank account, or about having delirious nights of pure pleasure that never came out of it. He wasn't always like this, but he became so after discovering a betrayal from the one he least expected and that marked his life forever. His ghosts come back to haunt him, and his only option was a sham engagement. But not with just any woman, but with her; the most beautiful and fucking sexy of all he had ever seen in his life. It was supposed to be just a contract, a month and nothing more, they just didn't expect with fate that was going to turn that simple agreement into a delicious game of seduction. Camilla is no ordinary girl, not by a long shot. As the master of herself and of her own destiny, she does not bow her head to anyone and is fully aware of the power she holds in her hands. Despite her young girl's face, her body shows what a fucked up woman she is. A woman who gets an "A" in the art of seduction. "Amid the flames of desire, the biggest challenge is not to allow the fire of passion to be born.” Follow me on Instagram: aqueen-aheroine

Trapped in the darkness of her world, Marina gets rejected by a man that she had been forced to marry right on the altar and to save face she gets married to a total stranger. The whole plan was to get divorced but who would ever believe that Aiden, the devil that sat on his throne unperturbed would find something that interests him and that person was— Marina. There was no letting go of her but she didn't even know it. "Please, marry me. I promise to compensate you in whatever way I can and we would get a divorce as soon as possible." Marina said to the unknown stranger with eyes laced with confidence and plea. "Alright, I will.' But from that moment, he knew that the divorce was never going to happen. ~~ "I want a divorce, let me go Aiden." "That's too bad little mouse, you promised to compensate me with whatever I wanted after the marriage. You are my compensation." What happens when there is no exit from the marriage? What happens when her very own marriage competitor, the sole reason why she was rejected shows up at her doorstep in a bid to take her husband? Find out this roller coaster of emotions all entailed in "Accidentally Married The Multi-Billionaire."

My future mother-in-law, Diane Grant, loved setting rules. On the day I proposed, she sat there with that smug, superior look and told me if I wanted to marry her daughter, Olivia Grant, I had to pass her so-called "son-in-law training", which was three months working as a food delivery driver. She said she wanted to test whether I could handle hardship. For my fiancee's sake, I kept my identity hidden. I was the heir to one of the most powerful families in Crestfall City, and I agreed without hesitation. For three months, I shed every trace of privilege. I worked from dawn to night, delivering orders across the city. My parents didn’t understand. My friends disapproved. Mrs. Grant watched me like a hawk, picking me apart every single day. "Three minutes late? That’s a $3,000 penalty. The wedding shall be delayed by a month!" "Wrong unit delivery, bad review? $8,000 penalty. You don’t get to see Olivia this week!" Even then, I never gave up. Until the final day. I received an urgent order with a massive tip. The note was in bold: "Lifesaving medication. Immediate delivery." I sped through the streets, pushing myself to the limit. Just as I was about to enter the residential compound, Mrs. Grant stepped in front of me, blocking my way, her face full of disdain. Her voice shot up sharply. "The wedding gift goes up to $200,000. Not a cent less." I looked at her look of absolute certainty and suddenly laughed. My finger slid across the screen. The recipient of that urgent order was her precious son, Christopher Grant. I slowly put away the unlimited card in my pocket, along with the check I had prepared for a million-dollar wedding gift. Originally, I had planned to reveal my identity that day to give her the surprise of a lifetime. It seemed there was no need.

I was always flying for work, so I left the whole renovation thing to my husband, Daxton Pruitt. This time, my flight got scrapped last minute, so I swung by the house to check in. The second I stepped inside, some woman named Mona Scambley, who claimed she was the designer, chucked a stack of invoices at me. Couples' lingerie display case: $15,000. High-end waterbed: $40,000. One glance at that pile of overpriced tacky nonsense made me nauseous. My brows pulled tight. "Ms. Scambley, this is a private house, not some couples' motel. What is all this?" Her face flipped in a heartbeat. She jabbed a finger at me. "The owner gave those orders. You're just the site supervisor. Disobey me again, and I'll have Mr. Pruitt fire you!" Then she spun around and called Daxton right there. I laughed, cold and low, about to ask what kind of clown show designer he'd hired—until I heard his voice. Gentle. Doting. "This is Mona and my love nest. We'll do whatever we want. Don't like it? Get out." I smiled, snatched the list from Mona, and nodded. "Sure." One week later, that overpriced waterbed showed up—Daxton, very much not smiling.

On the night of my 30th birthday, I waited until the early hours of the morning, but my husband, Theodore Hawk never showed up. Instead, I came across an Instagram post from his childhood sweetheart, Emily Gallagher. [What romantic is not the starry night, it is having you by my side.] In the picture, she was wearing a delicate, sky-blue camisole that revealed just enough to charm and seduce. A man stood close behind her, his hand firmly gripping her waist. The scene was set in the seaside villa that Theodore had gifted her, their figures intimately entwined under the soft glow of the night. Someone had commented beneath the post: [I can’t stand you two being this lovey-dovey all the time! Just get married already!] Emily had responded with a shy-face emoji. I had just liked the post when Theodore, who I had failed to reach all night, blew up my phone with calls. "Are you out of your mind, Camilla? Emi and I grew up together! If we wanted to be together, we would’ve done so long ago! Why are you being so petty?" Looking at how Theodore gently held her in his arms, comforting her, I realized something. Letting go of someone you’ve loved for seven years... can take only a moment.

In the first year after marrying Victoria Kingsley, I choose to celebrate the holidays with her in her childhood home. At dinner, my mother-in-law suddenly claims that she's lost her gold bracelet. That's when Victoria's childhood friend, Jonathan Zane, points at me. "You must be the one who stole the bracelet! After all, you've been a serial pickpocket since you were young!" Everyone turns to stare at me, their gazes unkind. I thought Jonathan must have mistaken me for another person, so I tell everyone that I never stole the bracelet. But Jonathan continues confidently, "You were punished for stealing from others in high school all the time! Not to mention, I saw you at the police station last month! There's no way I'd have gotten the wrong guy!" Then, Jonathan lays down the details including the time, location, as well as the clothes I was wearing that day. All I feel is mixed feelings at the moment. The thing is, I was at the police station because I needed to obtain some evidence. After all, I'd already joined the judiciary a long time ago. Last month, I was even promoted to the presiding district court judge.