Why Does Ghost Call Soap Johnny

My mother sent me to Chicago to marry Marco Ricci. A power move. One meant to cement our family’s control of the city. After all, my grandfather was the one who put the Riccis on the map. They owed us. They were supposed to treat me like royalty. I went to the fanciest jeweler in Chicago to buy my fiancé a gift. But some broad snatched it right from me. Before I could move, the store manager was fawning all over her. “Miss Bianca! A gift from Mr. Ricci? It’s perfect on you!” Marco? My fiancé? So this was his whore. She slid the sapphire ring onto her finger and shot me a look of disgust. “Who the hell do you think you are, bitch? Trying to take what’s mine?” I didn't even look at her. I just called Marco. "Your whore has something of mine. You have three minutes. Get down to the jeweler and handle her."

On my sixteenth birthday, everything changes. One moment I'm your below-average girl—the next moment, I’m a monster. A werewolf. As a danger to society, and with my parents' refusal to help me, I have no other choice but to go to the werewolf place. Nothing prepares me for what waits for me inside the Academy of the Moon. Not only do I learn that the horrid tales I’d been told about werewolves were not true—but that I am different from the others. This results in my being a scapegoat for condemnation. What’s even worse is that the boy who marked me might be a murderer. He’s on the loose. Will he come back for me? Am I turning into an evil beast, like him? And then, there’s Elijah Ledger. The future alpha—a gorgeous werewolf who appears to be bearing dark secrets from everyone. I’m drawn to him. But he’s a magnet for misfortune, and his secrets start to unveil themselves. While I’m dealing with an array of problems, including a jealous girl who can’t stand my newfound attention from Elijah—one by one, students are getting attacked at the academy. The big question is: who is it? And why are they doing it? Things get ugly—and I am caught in the middle of it.

Tidak mendapat kasih sayang orang tua, Callista memilih bekerja jadi sugar baby. Berharap bisa menemukan pria tua yang bisa mencintainya seperti seorang ayah. Karena itu juga dia bertemu Harvie Carlton, pria berusia tiga puluh tiga tahun yang dipaksa jadi ayah untuk keponakannya yang baru kehilangan kedua orang tuanya. Juga dipaksa untuk menikah secepatnya dan memberikan sang keponakan sosok seorang ibu. Bagaimana hubungan mutualisme antara dua individu yang sama-sama keras ini bisa dipertahankan?

My husband, Don Lorenzo, ran New York's underworld. And he's the one who put me in prison. All because his childhood flame, Cassandra Viti—the Viti family princess—killed my father. I was the first one on the scene. The Feds caught me standing over the body. He faked the evidence. Made sure I took the fall. I spent three years in hell. His apology? A single sentence and an unlimited black card. "I owe Cassandra three wishes. Once you're out, once I've paid my debt to her, you'll be my Donna again."

I had proposed seven times, but Winnie Smith continued refusing to marry me. This was because the Smith family had a special test. To marry their daughters, their sons-in-law had to refrain from sleeping with their fiancees after being drugged. I tried seven times. However, every time after I regained consciousness, Winnie would be sleeping naked next to me. She would cry and throw herself into my arms. “It’s fine. We can try again. I trust you.” It was not until the eighth time that I overheard her instructing the butler, “Switch the aphrodisiac to sleeping pills, and make sure it’s a high dosage. “After he falls asleep, I’ll take it from there as usual.” While I kept my eyes shut tight, I could hear her taking off her long dress. Then, she came over to unbutton my shirt. I heard her sigh. “I’m sorry, Benjamin Lowe. Joe Anderson’s been diagnosed with cancer, and his last wish is to be with me. “Don’t worry, though. After he passes, I’ll marry you immediately.” Right then, I realized that her family’s test had been a lie she told just to marry her childhood best friend. The next day, my parents pressured me again to leave the country and inherit the family business. So, I agreed to their request. Since she wanted to marry Joe, I would wish the couple well.

This is a 31st Century Love Story. Zimry Callueng, isang babae mula sa bagong henerasyon. Kakaibang mundo na ang nakagisnan niya. Lahat ay kaya nang patakbuhin ng teknolohiya. Zimry's a bitch. She can be your friend but don't mess up with her. Only one person can tame her, Harley, her first love. Kaya niyang gawin ang lahat mapunta lamang sa kaniya ito. She can do evil things. But Harley doesn't feel the same way. He's inlove with someone else. Zimry is not existing in his world. But Zimry is Zimry. She made Harley believed that the girl he loves is cheating on him. But after all the chasing, did she finally won Harley's heart?

Carmela Blake never imagined her life would spiral into chaos. Once a rising fashion designer, her dreams crumble when her family faces financial ruin. To save them, she agrees to a loveless marriage with Damion Blackwood, a billionaire CEO whose icy exterior hides dangerous secrets. To the world, their marriage is a perfect union of power and wealth. But behind closed doors, it’s a battlefield of clashing wills, unresolved passions, and painful betrayals. Carmela soon discovers Damion’s true motives—he’s using their marriage to settle a score from the past

On Christmas Day, eight months pregnant, I struggled through the kitchen,cooking for my husband and his secretary. When I finally sat down, hoping to taste a piece of turkey I didn’t even get during Thanksgiving, my husband shoved me aside like I was nothing. He slid the turkey in front of his secretary instead. “Alison,you’re already so fat. Stop eating. Let Daisy have it—she deserves to enjoy your cooking.” Daisy，chewing on the turkey I had painstakingly prepared, had the audacity to mock me under the guise of playing truth or dare with my child. “So, what do you think your mom looks like?” “Mommy looks like a fat pig on a farm!” “Her stretch marks? They’re like disgusting worms crawling all over her. Even Santa would run for his life!” Their laughter erupted like daggers piercing me from all sides. Humiliation and rage burned through me as my dignity was stripped bare. I demanded an apology from that vile woman, but my husband—my husband!—turned his cold, cruel face toward me and said, “Get out of here.” Pregnant, exhausted, and humiliated, I stood there in shock. Then I snapped. I grabbed the Christmas cake and turkey and threw them in the trash. I walked out without looking back. This wretched family doesn’t deserve a second of my effort or a single ounce of my love!

I was in the office bathroom stall when I heard them trash-talking me. The intern I'd trained for three months whined, "She's a heartless witch—like a robot with zero brain cells." I was about to swing the door open when another voice jumped in, laughing. "Documents incomplete." "Receipts don't match." "No signature? Denied." "Seriously, we've all memorized the freaking rulebot's script!" Once they were gone, I headed back to my desk. The intern stormed in and slammed a fat stack of reimbursement forms in front of me. "Don't go on another power trip and block everyone's claims." I skimmed the obviously fake receipts. Normally, I'd tear into her. But this time, I just smiled. "My head's killing me. Can't read the fine print."

It was the thirtieth anniversary of my alma mater, and I had been invited back to give a speech. But as I stepped on stage, my husband's illegitimate son rushed toward me, brandishing a knife. His accusations rang through the hall: I was a homewrecker, the woman who had driven his mother to her death. He went even further, kidnapping my daughter and threatening her safety unless I publicly read a letter of confession. I was beaten to within an inch of my life, my body battered and bruised. I demanded my husband come forward and confront the truth. Instead, he turned on me. "I was forced to be with you in the first place!" my husband spat, venom dripping from every word. "You're the real mistress!"