Vicky Stark Glass Dildo

I'm the daughter of the Alpha King of the Werewolf Alliance that's based in Valdoria. In order to give my Alpha fiance whom I've never met before, Lucas Howell, a surprise, I've specifically hidden my scent as a royal she-wolf. Clad in a seemingly ordinary white T-shirt and a pair of jeans, I walk into the venue, where the Dark Shadow pack is hosting their annual celebration. As soon as I take my seat at the main table, which has been reserved for me, I feel someone dumping a glass of red liquid onto me. A she-wolf wearing a red dress that comes with a deep V-neck can be seen standing in front of me. Her expression is one of disdain. "Where did you come from, you filthy Rogue? You really think you get to sit at the main table, huh?" As I wipe the wine stains off my clothes, I do my best to suppress the ferocity of my wolf. "Lucas has specifically reserved this seat for his mate. Why can't I sit here?" The she-wolf acts as though she's heard the biggest joke ever. She then point at her work badge that's pinned on her chest while saying mockingly, "I'm Lucas' personal secretary as well as the future Luna whom everyone has acknowledged. In this pack, my word is the law here. "Guards, drag this delusional half-breed away and throw her out!" What a coincidence. Lucas has just texted me, pleading with me to announce our relationship as soon as possible. I dig out my phone and dial his number. Then, I put my phone on loudspeaker mode. "Your personal secretary claims that she's the future Luna, and she has commanded the guards to throw me out. What's your explanation for this matter, hmm?"

I cleared my throat and picked up the menu, pretending to study it. “So,” I said after a moment, “before we start pretending this is something serious, you should know… I’m not exactly the settling-down type.” He arched his brow but said nothing. “I do hookups,” I continued, keeping my tone casual. “That night at the hotel? I was supposed to meet someone else. I went into the wrong room. You were literally a mistake.” He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. Just smirked faintly and reached for his glass of whisky, taking a slow sip. My fake confidence wavered. “Did you hear what I said?” “Every word,” he said quietly. “And?” “And I’m still here.” I stared at him with disbelief. “Wow. You’re not even mad? You’re supposed to call off the wedding and storm out or something.” He chuckled in a low tone, resting his elbow on the table. “You’re really trying hard to get rid of me, aren’t you?” ******* I caught my fiancé cheating with the woman he called his “sister.” Broken, drunk, and reckless, I stumbled into the wrong hotel room, and into the arms of a stranger. By morning, he was gone, leaving only a note: Wrong room, but you taste good. I wanted to forget him. Weeks later, my best friend begged me to meet the man her father had arranged for her to marry and make him call off the wedding. I went there in her place, only to discover he was the same man from that night. He called off the wedding with her. Then he asked me to marry him, but I refused. But refusing a billionaire with an obsession is never that simple… especially when he shows up as my new boss.

"Whether you believe this or not, you've never left my mind since the day you left, Giselle. I looked for you in her and the things I was pursuing, but none of them made me feel close to how I feel when I'm with you." "You made your choice when you chose her, Noah, that you didn't want me. If you want my forgiveness, you'll have to do more than what you do." "If I must walk through glass for your forgiveness, then I'll do it as long as it will bring me back to you." *** Now, after years of struggle, Giselle returns—not as the naive girl who once let others dictate her fate but as a determined woman fighting for her children. With her twins suffering from a rare blood disease, Giselle is desperate for help and protection for her little ones. Noah, her ex-husband, is shocked to learn that he is the father of the twins. Now married to Octavia, his ambitious wife, Noah finds himself torn—between his marriage with Octavia and grappling with a heart that never truly let go of Giselle. As his hope to gain custody grows, he quickly learns that Giselle is no longer the woman he once knew, but a fierce mother intent on shielding her twins from the past. When Octavia realizes Noah's rekindled feelings for Giselle, she devises a manipulative plan to regain her hold over him and their family. Deception and unresolved emotions intertwine as a battle for control continues to show the price of ambition. *** [BILLIONAIRE HEIRESS SERIES] 1. The Billionaire's Substitute Ex-Wife Returns 2. My Billionaire Ex-Husband Chases Me Back 3. Ex-Wife Transition: The Comeback Of The Hidden Heiress 4. The Poor Billionaire Heiress Returns! They can all be read as standalone!

A sharp pull by my wrist bought me back to the wall. I hold my breath for a moment. "what the hell" I cussed. "Shh, baby girl" he exclaimed. I cringed with the endearment he used. He brought his face near to my face. His breath is fanning all over my lips. It raised my heartbeat to a different level. It must be heard by him also. His smirk face saying it all. His eyes are gazing my lips and he started closing the small gap we have between our lips to be mingled into one. Sensing his intentions I closed my eyes & moved my face to the left. He stopped right away & increase the gap between us which I really appreciate but the hold of his hand on my wrist is very tight. It started paining me slowly. "Now listen to me very carefully, we might be lawfully wedded husband & wife. But you are nothing to me. I have only married you because of my doll" he said rudely to me. I forcefully release my hand from his hulk like grip which resulted into breaking my bangles & a piece of glass cut into my hand. It hurt me like hell. There must be a big cut in my hand. Ignoring the pain in my hand. I showed my other hand finger towards him and said "even I was not interested in this marriage. I am kind of forced into this" Which I am not, my subconscious mocked me. But I won’t give him that satisfaction. Although I was not forced but I had no other option than to accept this marriage. _______________________ This is the story of Payal Mehra and Kabir Khurana who are bound by vows in the sacred bond of marriage which was not in their to do list. But yet they are.

I took a shortcut through the alley and watched Dante Marchetti put a bullet in a man like it was nothing. He saw my face. That was the end of my normal life. Within an hour I was in the back of his car being driven to an estate I had never seen before with gates that locked from the outside and a wardrobe full of clothes in my exact size waiting like someone had known I was coming before I did. He told me I wasn't a prisoner but a guest. He said people who wanted to find me were considerably worse than him and that his walls were the only thing standing between me and a conversation I wouldn't survive. Maybe he was right. The problem is the longer I stayed the harder it became to remember which one was true. Because the man who caught me in that alley wasn't the only version of him. There was another one that nobody else seemed to get to see. The one who stood alone in his dead mother's library looking tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. The one who had my cat brought to the estate because he heard me crying through a closed door and didn't know what else to do about it. The one who almost smiled when I threw a glass at his head. That version of him was the one I couldn't stop thinking about. I came here as a witness. I stayed as something else entirely. Somewhere between the locked doors, the candlelit dinners and the secrets we started sharing in the dark I stopped wanting to leave. The question was whether a woman like me could survive loving a man like him. I was about to find out.

Manhattan was doing that thing again twinkling like it had all the answers, when really it just had expensive lighting. Alexander Knight leaned against the glass wall of his penthouse, seventy-five floors up, watching the city hum below him. Bourbon in one hand (mostly untouched), phone in the other. The merger docs stared back at him from the screen, but the part that actually kept him up at night wasn’t the billions on the line. It was the fine print from the Japanese investors: “Family stability preferred.” Translation: get a wife, look settled, or watch the whole deal slip away. He exhaled, fogging the window for a second before it cleared. His assistant had already sent over a neat little list of “suitable” women—discreet, polished, zero drama. Women who understood arrangements. He hadn’t even opened the attachments. Because something about the whole thing felt… hollow. His gaze drifted down, past the grid of lights, to the tiny café on the corner. Golden glow spilling onto the sidewalk, handwritten sign in the window: Local Artist Pop-Up – One Night Only. A woman stood in front of a canvas, head tilted, paint-smudged shirt slipping off one shoulder. She was talking to someone out of view, laughing softly, then stepped back to study her work like it had personally offended her. She glanced up—straight toward his building, straight at him somehow, even though there was no way she could see him up here. But for a split second, their eyes locked across the impossible distance. But right then, with the whole damn city glittering between them, he had this ridiculous, unshakable thought: She’s the one I’m going to ask. And hell help them both when she says yes.

To transfer my sister, Suri Voss, who was 13 years younger than I was, to a new school district, I took 7 days of annual leave and went back to my hometown. I pulled strings, delivered gifts, called in favors, and finally forced a spot for her in the best middle school in the city. At last, when I could pause long enough to catch my breath, I told Mom, who was heading out to buy groceries, that I wanted grilled pork ribs for dinner. Suri walked over with a cold expression, then threw a full glass of icy water straight onto my head and pointed at my face as she exploded. "You country leech, mooching off our family for years, eating our food and living in our house whenever you feel like it. I let all that slide. Now you want to steal my mom too? Do you have any shame at all?! "Listen carefully, Mom only has one child. She will only ever love me!" I stood there, stunned. Suri had no idea I was Mom’s biological daughter, too. All this time, she had treated me as some freeloading relative. I looked toward the doorway, where Mom was changing her shoes to go out. She seemed not to have heard a single word of Suri’s disrespect. She merely said casually, "Suri doesn’t like ribs. Let’s have grilled shrimp instead." She had forgotten that I’ve been severely allergic to seafood since childhood. I lowered my head and let out a quiet, self-mocking laugh. Unbeknownst to them, if I could secure Suri a place in that school, I could just as easily make sure she lost it.

My wife's childhood friend, a gambling addict she had known since childhood, returned to Dryana. To help him pay off his debts, she stole and sold my medical patent. Before it happened, I confronted her. I tried to stop her. I even threatened to call the police. Amanda Carroll looked at me as if I had disappointed her beyond repair. "Enough, Cedric Lunsford. You're a grown man. Can you stop nitpicking over every little thing? "Don isn't like you. He's in trouble right now. You make that much money. What's wrong with giving him a little? I'm already your wife. Are you seriously going to tell me where my heart is allowed to be?" I gathered the evidence and headed to the police station. Halfway there, my brakes failed. The car slammed into the guardrail. Metal crumpled and glass shattered. I was pinned in the driver's seat, drenched in blood, forcing out my last breath as I called for help. Amanda's voice on the line was flat, almost bored. "Stop yelling. Don can't stand bloody scenes. Don't make him sick. Your insurance payout is enough for him to start over. Consider it the last duty you perform as a husband." At that moment, I understood. Even at the end, she chose his gambling debt. She chose murder and an insurance payout. The vehicle exploded. Nothing remained of me. Then I opened my eyes again. I was back on the day her "childhood sweetheart" returned. This time, I did not stop her from going to the airport. I picked up my phone and called my senior overseas. "I'll sell you the patent. And the position you mentioned, I'm in. See you in three days."

Kyra Hopkins doesn’t believe in marriage and long term relationships. She co-manages her dream job with her two best friends Lily and Bipasha. With the two worried about her no-dating state, they hit a club with plans to GET KYRA LAID. In a White tiny dress they leave her in a bar nurturing a glass of water and pondering what exactly her newest client’s birthday party theme should be. Horses or cars. That’s what she voices out to the sinfully hot man who took the seat beside hers. And he’s got Kyra’s feet feeling like they were lit on fire. Worst of all, she got what it meant to have butterflies flutter in your stomach walls. Best of all, the man knows what she wants and he wants it too and more. Kyra got in for the ride of her life, planned for a weekend because remember? Kyra doesn’t do long term. But then, neither is Nicholai Damien Ivanov or Sin as he’s more popularly known as into long term relationships. One night stands or at a stretch a weekend fling. Why does the angel in white getting stuck in his head and refusing to leave? Why couldn’t his PI track her from the little information she dropped about herself. The questions haunted his nights and refused to leave until he caught sight of his Angel in a black dress on another man’s arm, then his sister hugged her referring to her as Kyra while his Angel introduced herself to him as April. Sin got his answer and meant to show her how much they weren’t over yet. In fact they hadn’t even begun. It was just the beginning of Nicholai Ivanov’s obsession with his one-night stand.

On the day my dad, the Don of the Capone family, comes to the orphanage to take me home, I show up in a tactical helmet and a bulletproof vest. "I'm not going home with you. You're definitely doing this to trick me into getting married to a perverted old geezer in a marriage alliance. I bet my adopted sister has made preparations to start fake-crying anytime by loading up on her eyedrops." My dad is amused, to say the least. "Why would any of that happen? Silvia is nothing but welcoming you to our home! Also, our family isn't a lowly organization that deals with human trafficking." But I refuse to believe my dad at all. On the way home, I keep typing something on my phone. My mom, the Donna, leans over curiously. "Are you writing a diary entry?" "Nope. I'm writing tips on 'How to Survive the Mafia.'" 1) My food will definitely be poisoned. 2) If I get close to a staircase, I'll definitely get pushed down the stairs. 3) I'll get framed for something that I've never done before. My parents swear to me that none of the things I've written will ever happen. They tell me that my adopted sister, Silvia Capone, has a great personality, and things are amicable in the family. However, everything changes when Silvia brings me a glass of juice before lunchtime and insists on watching me drink it. Instead, I dump the juice into a nearby vase of flowers. Just as my parents are about to scold me for wasting the juice, smoke begins drifting from the flowers inside the vase. Then, they start wilting rapidly. I calmly leave a bright red checkmark behind the "poison" tip. As my parents stare at the dead flowers, they can feel color draining from their faces. "You should send the juice to a chem lab for analysis."