Novel & Cerita Was Christopher Walken In Pulp Fiction

 She glares at me with her mesmerizing eyes. Her lips are contorted in disgust. She glares at me. I hold back my smile, " Excuse me." She says to the passing air hostess, averting her eyes from me. she fully ignores me.        "How can I help you, ma'am? " She asks her.        "Can you please take this dumbass out of my eyes? I don't want this shit around me. " She says with a taste of anger.        My eyes widen. I thank the sunglasses.        ' She is damn rude, man! But I love it. '      "Woh girl! Mind your language. I respect girls. " I couldn't take away the shock from my voice.       She slightly draws her face at my side, "It was decent, you big oaf

After my adopted sister, Bella, borrowed my phone, she forgot to log out of our family's secure channel. I was about to log her out when an encrypted group chat message popped up at the top of the screen. "To celebrate Enzo, the Moretti heir, handling his first piece of business for the family, we're having dinner at the private club tonight." I tapped on it without a second thought. The member list in the channel was painfully clear, showing only four avatars: my father, my mother, my brother, and Bella. My brother, Enzo, replied a moment later, "Just the four of us. Don't call Aurora." "If she comes, she'll just find another excuse to bully Bella." I stared at the words, frozen. It

I worked in bottle service at a nightclub for four years just to support my boyfriend. His startup business failed. He told me he owed a fortune to loan sharks, saying that they would cut off his fingers if he failed to pay up. I gave him every dollar I had saved just to help him clear off his debt. I even gave him the emerald bracelet my mother had left me before she passed away. That night, I unintentionally overheard a conversation from one of the private rooms while I was working. "Preston, your girlfriend never would have given you that bracelet she had been hiding if Mia hadn't suggested we pretend to be debt collectors and assist you with this little show." Preston Hale la

The night before I officially registered my marriage, my friends convinced everyone to play a "mystery box game." The female guests each placed a gift into a box, and the gifts were randomly given to the men at the party. Everyone said it was the fairest way. When I opened my box, there was only a thin card inside. It said, "Thanks for participating." The entire room instantly went silent. Some people couldn't hold back their laughter. My fiancée, Charlotte Kilbourn, reached over and straightened my collar. "Your luck is still terrible." Lyra Sharpe, my childhood friend who grew up with me, whispered, "Just smile. Don't make people think you're a sore loser." Meanwhile, Connor Winfield got t

When Adriano Morelli realized I hadn’t submitted a single household request in three days, he called me himself for the first time in months. “Serafina,” he said, his voice smooth and patient, “the clinic has been cleared. Your file is back on priority. See? When you stop making things difficult and learn how this family works, I make sure you’re taken care of.” He always sounded the gentlest when he was reminding me who held the power. What he didn’t know was that by the time his name lit up my screen, the divorce papers were already drafted. From the outside, I had everything a woman could want: a guarded penthouse, a driver on call, designer clothes, and the last name of one of the most f

I was the daughter of a human noble house, and I married the man I'd fallen for at first sight: Adrian, heir to the vampire Prince. Adrian was unfailingly gentle with me. Every wedding anniversary, jewelry arrived at my door. Everyone said I was the luckiest woman alive. What they didn't know was that on our wedding night, Adrian told me not to let myself hope for anything from him. The anniversary gifts were chosen by his assistant. He never once celebrated with me. In ten years of marriage, Adrian went through more lovers than I could count. Every time, I was the one who wrote the check and dismissed the women he'd grown tired of. This time, I cleaned up after him as usual. That ni

A seventeen years old Sera Calix was never meant to set a foot in Virelade Academy, the country's most prestigious elite all boys school. But a paperwork error gave her a chance to escape a life of serving the masters and she'll do anything to hold onto it. Even if it means disguising herself as a boy!. The plan was to keep her head down, graduate and disappear but the problem was Kael Ashbourne, her new roommate, her worst nightmare and on top of that he's the son of the president, the same man where her mom works for. As secrets build, Sera struggles to survive a world that was built to shut her out. But the biggest danger wasn't being caught but it's the way Kael looks at her like

Everyone in Moonveil Pack knew our Alpha, Eric, worshiped his Mate. When he loved, he went feral. To keep me—an infertile she-wolf—on the Luna throne, he once painted the Elder Council in blood. Stood in front of the whole pack and swore he hated pups. Said he'd end his own bloodline before he let me hurt. Yeah. That was his version of forever. Until my body changed. Then one day he walked into our territory holding a young she-wolf's hand—Velda—and built her a little love nest right next to our home. I asked for an explanation. "My pack needs an heir. You can't give me one." Velda smiled all sweet. The second he looked away, she flipped me off. "Zara, you're fat as a pig. What mak

My parents set me up on a marriage match—and it turned out to be my girlfriend, Chloe. I was hyped. I went straight to the luxury boutique where she worked, ready to tell her. Then I stopped outside the VIP room. "Chloe, if you're dumping him, just do it. Why fake cancer? You're putting bad juju on yourself." "What do you know? A dead ex sticks forever. Next week, I'm getting engaged to a Remington. Having an ex like me? That's his win." Inside, her friends hyped her up. Laughter all around. I just stood there, cold spreading through me. Three years. A joke to her. She was trading up—and still playing me one last time. I clenched my jaw and called my mom. "Mom, cancel the engagemen

At the company's annual party, my fiancée, the CEO, was chosen for a game called "opposite-gender squats." With the whole room cheering, she did not hesitate. She jumped onto a young male intern and wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. He held her by the hips as he lifted and lowered her again and again, while she laughed as if she did not have a care in the world. Then came the second round: blindfolded face recognition. When her hands reached the intern, her fingers lingered on his lips and traced them slowly. He suddenly licked her fingertips. Right there, in front of everyone, he smirked. "Miss Smith, your hands are really soft. The way you touched my lips just now… that felt