Was Paris Hilton In Supernatural

Mila Bennett, 17-year-old, sassy, friendly, feisty and the vice-captain of the dance team. Well, everyone except Hayes Miller, bad-boy and the captain of the basketball team in Henry M. Gunn High School, one of the best public schools in California. Rémy Miller, Hayes brother transfers to Henry M.Gunn high school. He's mesmerized by one girl, Mila. He wants no one but her. Hayes starts to catch feelings for the girl he never wanted, but the question is would Mila want a guy who has been a thorn in her flesh all these years? Or a guy that has always been there for her and cared for her. Rémy realises her unspoken feelings for his brother. He also realises that the love he had for her was just for friendship. When a baby comes in along the way, Is Mila ever going to tell her arch nemesis how she feels about him or she’s going to keep them to herself?

When my sister, Cindy Saddler, and I perform our gymnastics routine, we both slip up. My spine snaps as I hit the ground. The pain makes my face go completely pale, and my life is hanging by a thread. But my mother and spotter, Cordelia Saddler, pushes me away in annoyance. "This isn't the time for you to fight with your sister for my attention. She's twisted her ankle! Go die if you want to die. Don't bother me!" Later, I die due to complications in the hospital, as she wishes. But after she finds out I'm dead, she goes crazy.

Jessica walked down the aisle against her will to replace her best friend and to save her mother’s life. She never agreed to fall in love with the Billionaire she married but only to survive him. Forced into a contract marriage with powerful hotel mogul John Lewis, she becomes a wife in name only, trapped by threats, silence, and fear. But when her best friend returns with dangerous lies and a fake pregnancy, Jessica is discarded like she was never meant to matter. Except the truth refuses to stay buried. Now John is begging her to stay but Jessica must decide whether to endure the disrespect… or walk away and protect her dignity.

When Ava Montgomery’s brother is killed in a hit-and-run, her world shatters. The police close the case too quickly, and all fingers point to Liam Hart, her brother’s best friend, a man she once admired, now branded a murderer. Three years later, consumed by rage and loss, Ava reinvents herself as Eva Moore and secures a job at Liam’s company to destroy him from within. But the man she meets isn’t the monster she imagined. He’s haunted, silent, and guilt-ridden… yet heartbreakingly kind. As Ava digs deeper, she uncovers a truth darker than revenge could satisfy: Liam took the blame to protect someone he loves, and the real killer has returned to tie up loose ends. Between love and vengeance, Ava must decide: Will she destroy the man she’s grown to love, or save him before it’s too late?

Everyone in the underworld knew Rosalie Thorne, the "Thorn Principessa" of the North. Wild, rebellious, notorious. Street racing, high-stakes gambling, guns, and drinking, she had mastered them all. The rose-and-thorn tattoo on the nape of her neck drove countless men wild. But what they didn't know was that for Rocco, the new mob boss of the South, a single sentence, "I prefer a more obedient woman," was all it took. At his word, I had the tattoo lasered off and swapped my leathers for long, conservative dresses. I am Rosalie. For five years, I hid my identity and played the porcelain doll Rocco wanted. Until the night he eliminated all his rivals and was crowned the new Don of the South. That was when he let his men bow to another woman, hailing her as their "Donna." I watched Rocco. The same hands that had just executed a traitor were now gently placing a pair of red high heels on the feet of his adoptive sister, Vivian. "Rosalie, she has a temper. She'll make a scene if she doesn't get the title." "You're the good one, the obedient one. Just let her have this." That day, I walked straight out into the rain and never looked back. I was never truly obedient. I just made myself smaller for him. My family had already chosen a husband for me. They had been waiting five years, just for me to say yes.

I went abroad for three years to build a lab and save my husband's company from collapse. After endless struggles, I finally cracked the technical problems and developed the core technology. When I returned home with that breakthrough, I saw the airport video board plastered with the same impossible headline—my husband was getting married. I felt a hot, furious ache and took a taxi straight to the venue. … A woman who had cared for our household for years blocked me at the gate and sneered. "Who do you think you are, showing up at the Stone family's wedding? Get out of here, or I'll get security to throw you out." For a moment, I stood rooted, but then the bride appeared, walking out of the villa in a wedding gown. It was the woman Adrian Stone had once told me was dead—his first love, Evelyn Sutton. She wore my wedding ring on her finger and looked at me with pure contempt. "You want to make a scene at my wedding?" she said. "If you do, you're really asking for trouble. My husband, Adrian, won't hesitate to take care of you." I folded my arms and let out a cold laugh. "Adrian's getting married? Funny, I don't recall getting an invitation."

The day I married Santino Connor, he went from the infamous heir of a mafia fortune to a broke nobody. When he handed me a plastic ring in a shabby basement and asked if I would start from scratch with him, I looked at the man I had loved since I was a girl and nodded without a second thought. "Santino, as long as it was with you, I would do anything." For him, I worked more than ten hours a day until my stomach bled from the stress. Our son, from the moment he could walk, trailed me from one odd job to the next. I thought my love could eventually build us a life in the sun. Until, at a lavish banquet where I was serving the elite, he showered me with cash from his seat at the head of the table. "What's that thing crawling on the floor? It's blocking my view!" "Take the money and get out of my sight!" When I saw the woman by his side, her face an eerie copy of my own, I finally understood. To him, this was just a game, and I was the only one playing for keeps. If he was going to go to such lengths to deceive me, then it was time for his game to end. What he didn't know was that one month later, he would be tearing the world apart to find me.

Her father and stepmother died, leaving her to the brutal hands of her step brother. Her stepbrother is heartless. He treats her as a maid, is it a torture? She however discovers that she has been sold. Sold to a Ruthless Mafia, just to serve as a settlement for her stepbrother's debt. Now she fears her life. Would her life take a turn for the worse or for the best?

To the world, I was Mrs. Ward—the untouchable queen beside the mafia king of New York, Elias Ward. But I knew my husband never loved me. His heart had always belonged to Harper Dinah. His nephew’s wife. And after that nephew conveniently died, Elias brought her into our mansion, “I just want to take better care of her,” he’d said. And his version of “care” was where he’d throw a man out of a party for daring to flirt with Harper and got her pregnant. Elias likes to praise me in public like I was the perfect wife to him. And I was. I helped build his empire. I was the one who smiled and played nice. I made his casino shine while he hid Harper away like she was something sacred. Because of all that praising, one of his enemies set his sights on me. They took me. Sent Elias a message soaked in blood and threats: Back off. Leave New York. Or your pretty wife dies. Of course, Elias didn’t choose to back off.. “Just wait,” he said over the phone, “They won’t hurt you, Noa. You’re leverage. Just hold on until Harper gives birth. Then I’ll come for you.” Eight months of being held in a filthy hole, starved, beaten, degraded. The gang leader raped me over and over again. And still, Elias never came. Finally, I escaped when they were all drunk. Went home, only find my twins sleeping in the maid’s room, eating scraps while Elias was too busy hosting a party for his newborn. I didn’t confront him, just packed my babies and disappear.

Adrian Moretti’s adopted sister—She knew perfectly well that I suffered from severe asthma and could not be exposed to smoke or strong scents. Yet during the yacht reception, she deliberately dragged me onto the open deck, where cigars burned nonstop and the wind howled. Within seconds, my chest tightened. When I reached for my inhaler, my blood ran cold. It was empty. I collapsed against the railing, gasping violently, my lungs burning as if they were collapsing in on themselves. She crouched beside me and smiled. “You’re always so dramatic. It’s just a little smoke. You don’t need to act like you’re dying,” she said softly. “You’re too weak. You need to build some tolerance.” I looked toward Adrian, my vision already blurring. “Adrian,” I choked. “Give me my inhaler. If I don’t use it right now, I’m going to suffocate.” He frowned slightly. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” he said coldly. “I’ve never heard of anyone dying from a bit of smoke. She’s right—you’re always seeking attention. We finally gathered tonight, and you’re ruining it.” My heart dropped. I fumbled for my phone and called my mother. “Mom,” I sobbed, barely able to breathe. “I’m being bullied… and I can’t breathe.” My voice shook violently.