Novel & Cerita Withered Foxy Voice Line

After the heated kiss, Sebastian's expression softened, his eyes still burning with desire. "I wasn't avoiding you," he whispered, his voice laced with sincerity. "I just want you to focus on your studies, not me all the time. You're a topper, baby," he said, a hint of pride in his tone. "And if you don't score well, I'll think it's because of me." His gaze locked onto hers, intense and serious. "In college, we should remain like professors and students—professional and detached. But outside..." His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "You can consider me your boyfriend, husband, friend... Daddy." **** "Adeline!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with emotion. But as he wrapped his arms around her, she distanced herself, her body language screaming rejection. "Sebastian, don't," Adeline warned. "Why didn't you answer my calls? I've been worried sick, imagining the worst, and feeling helpless. It's been three agonizing days since I last saw you, and I've been unable to focus on anything." Adeline remained silent, "What's wrong, Adeline? You're scaring me," he pleaded. "I'm pregnant," she stated. Sebastian's face lit up with joy, his eyes shining with excitement. "Oh, Adeline! We're going to be parents!" he exclaimed. But his happiness was short-lived, as Adeline's next words shattered his dreams. "I'm going to abort this child," Adeline declared. Sebastian's world crumbled around him, his heart shattering into a million pieces. "But before I do, I wanted to tell you," Adeline continued. "That's why I'm here—to end this chapter of our lives and move on." Adeline's voice dripped with finality. "Everything between us ends with this child," she declared.

WE'RE BACK! Yes, your favorite cousins are back at it again, but this time it ain't about me. So, buckle up and grab your wine glasses, because it's gonna be crazy! Mina’s POV: Wait a damn minute. Am I in hell? Because if I am, I need to speak to HR. I didn't even get a chance to plead my case, give a reference or something. I'm about to start freaking out because, I'm not a “go to hell” and mean it type of person. I can't do heat for five minutes let alone an eternity. I feel like giving my life to save a baby and a man should have gotten me at least joint visitation six months in heaven and six months in hell. “Mina, are you awake?” I heard the voice quietly say next to my ear. I tried opening my eyes, but it felt like I had sand in them. I decided to try speaking, but only let out something that sounded like a sick animal. "Wait right there let me get you some water.” I heard a voice whisper again. Who the hell is that? I have heard that voice before but couldn't figure out who the hell it was. “! We need to move; they've found us.” The voice came again. Wait, what? Who the hell are they? I tried opening my eyes again, this time I managed to get them open enough to see the figure picking me up bridal style. Then the stranger turned his head to look directly in my eyes and I knew instantly who it was. “Blaze? You gotta be shitting me.” I said, obviously shocked. “Hey, can we join the party? I hope you are serving food because we are famished.” I heard a man say.

I put my t-shirt down, my hands shaking. I try to ignore them and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair color is dark brown and a vague hint of golden. My dad used to say that my eyes are ocean blue. A guy in my history cl once said that I had perfect s. Another guy said that I had a great body. They wanted to date me. And I dated few of them. I brush my fingers in my forehead. Then my dark, thick eyelashes. The side of my nose. My s. I run my hand at my neck, then across my collarbone. Am I beautiful? Honestly, I don't know. Maybe I'm not. "You were wrong, Angelina Valentine." A voice inside my head suddenly whispers. "Calm down, Angel," another voice whispers. It's the voice I loved. His voice is fading away. My hands start shake again, my breath rapidly quickening. I am losing control. I have to do something. "Goddammit!" I punch the mirror with my fist. It shatters into thousand pieces. My reflection has shattered into thousand pieces, too. The mirror now looks to me like an art. And my bloody knuckles. "I am sorry, Edwin. I can't promise you anymore, because you left me." I bite my to stop myself from crying. I won't cry. What's the point of crying? My sixth sense is suddenly alert. Somebody is watching me. I spin around. A guy is standing in front of the door, leaning against it. He wears a tight blue shirt, the sleeves folded. His black hair is ruffled and his hands are folded across his chest. The probable most amazing thing about him is his eyes. They are dark green. They are dangerous, beautiful and incredibly unreadable. And they are watching me.

As I took my newborn daughter from the nurse, I heard the voice of the baby in the next bed echoing in my head. “Don’t take her, Mommy. I’m your real baby!” The doctor and nurses did not seem to hear a thing. I thought I was hallucinating due to my fatigue, so I continued nursing my baby girl. “How dare you cry, you burdensome wretch? I’ll pinch you if you keep crying!” The baby’s grandmother picked him up and walked outside, but the voice came again, crying, “The mean old lady is taking me away. Mommy, look over here quickly! Look at the birthmark on my left ear!” I froze. My first child, who had died in an accident, had a birthmark on his left ear.

On my way to a meeting at work, I call my daughter, who is at home. Instead, I hear a voice identical to mine over the phone. She claims that she is me three years in the future. "Dezarae, go home to Liv right now. Your daughter is in danger." I am stunned. I argue in disbelief and question who is behind this prank. When I step on the accelerator, she stops me sternly. "Do not drive ahead any further. There will be a traffic accident at the intersection where Peace Street is." In the next second, at the intersection that is less than 30 feet away from me, two cars collide. Cold sweat starts to trickle down my back when the woman with a voice identical to mine says, "Liv will fall off a building and die in three hours. This is your only chance to save her."

I never imagined selling myself to a stranger, but desperation changes everything. “My offer is simple,” he said, leaning back in his leather chair, his voice colder than the iced whiskey in his glass. “Help us track down those people you overheard last night and act as bait for a few months” His eyes were steel—sharp, unreadable. I swallowed hard. I was a waitress. He was a billionaire. We lived in different worlds. But my mother was dying, and I needed money fast. “And in return?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “You get two million dollars as well as protection from the criminal organization looking for you,” he said flatly. My hands trembled in my lap. This wasn’t a proposal. It was a transaction. And I was the product. But I nodded anyway. “Deal.”

Marry the playboy son of her boss for ten million dollars? Leia thought the choice would have been easy. After all, her mother was dying and the money would have helped with the treatment. There was never supposed to be love involved, just a quick and easy transition between two consenting adults. Then it got complicated. It became her heart on the line, and those two years of contracted marriage seemed like a world away. Women were all the same. Gold Diggers. So that was exactly how Christian would treat Leia - After all, she married him for money. Not having liked her from the start, Christian agreed with his father's plans; It was much easier than learning to trust again. He'd learned the hard way that women only wanted one thing and it was never him, just the dollar signs he was worth. So he's lived behind an arrogant and charming demeanour, thinking it was the only way to survive. It was why Leia hated him right back. Then their worlds collided, and they learned neither was how they perceived the other to be. It was no longer only Leia's heart on the line, but Christian's too. Will this be a marriage of inconvenience or a blessing in disguise?

WHERE THERE IS HATE, THERE IS LOVE There's a thin line between Hate and Love. And both hate and love come from the heart. When we hate a person, hate them with all our hearts, and when we love a person love them with all our hearts. Both can stay side by side. When the thin line breaks between hate and love we don't realize it, we just start to drown in the ocean of love without realizing it. The same thing happens with Ivan and Jessica. They don't realize when they start to love each other when they despise each other from the deepest core of their heart. Ivan Pratap Sigh, he's 29 years old and CEO of Royal Fashion which he built himself. He has a very powerful aura around him. Everyone fears him. He's an angel for good people but a death bell for his enemies.  Jessica Walia is 24 years old. Just graduated in fashion design from a prestigious college in Delhi. She's sweet, noble, confident, sophisticated, and believes in everyone. But whoever tries to bully her that time she becomes bold and  never hesitates to beat the shit out of them.

“You want me to pretend to be your fiancée?” Paige’s voice trembled quietly. Leonardo D’Angelo, her boss, the man she’d spent way too many nights secretly pining over, was holding her by the shoulders. His eyes beseeching. Paige, I know this might come as a surprise to you,” Leonardo’s voice was softer, almost hesitant. “But I need you to be my fake fiancée.” Her heart slammed against her ribs. This had to be a joke. “I—what?” she stammered, staring at him like he’d grown another head. “It’s only for three to four weeks,” he pressed, his grip tightening slightly on her shoulders. “I’ll pay you double, or a vacation, whatever you want. Just say yes.” Paige opened her mouth to refuse, because this was insane, but the look in his eyes stopped her. For once, the arrogant, self-assured Leonardo D’Angelo looked… vulnerable. “Please,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper. She should have said no. She should have walked away. Instead, the word slipped from her lips before she could stop it. “Yes.” The relief on his face was immediate, but Paige’s stomach twisted with nerves. What had she just agreed to? And yet, somewhere beneath the chaos, was the dangerous thrill of being the woman by his side.

She was forced to leave her home, her husband and her love. She was forced to become a servant of the gods, because her womb had refused to stop giving birth to twin babies. But now, the very thing that drove her from her home, has become the very thing that is putting a smile on her face. The Battle line has been drawn, she must save every twin baby or guilt will drive her into insanity.