Woman You Are Wanted Novel Novels & Stories

I laughed out loud and shook my head. “Oh, please. Every woman, once in a while, needs love in her life. Needs some kind of spice. Needs sex or even kids to spice up her life. OK, although I do want to become an independent lady, but at the same time, I want a man. And I have grown to love this particular man so much. Henry. I’ve grown to love him. And his wife just doesn’t want to comply,” I complained, pouting. Anna looked at me like I was a nutcase. Of course, I also felt like I was a nutcase at some point.

Eventually, she latched onto an older, rich man as his mistress. Her luck ran out fast. The guy's wife didn't play. She had Alice disfigured and tossed aside. No money, no safety net. Alice died sick, alone, and forgotten. In just one year, everything flipped. Lucia's life was finally her own. No chains, no shadows. The sky was wide. The sea, endless. And she was just getting started.

A chubby lady questioned him, giving him death stares, which made him wonder what exactly he had done. Astounded, he denied stalking her and moved to walk out of her sight when she stopped him again. Losing his patience, he turned around to face her. " I won't call the police, just hand that book over" she said, sipping her coffee. He looked heavenward, cursing her in his mind. Never was he willing to release the book or reveal his identity either. " I know you picked that book mainly because of me. Hand it over nicely and I'll let you in on some information about me"

To be wanted. “Can we meet?” Clara whispered. “Of course,” Lyana said quickly, almost too quickly. “Come to the penthouse. Tonight. I’ll send a car.” When the line went dead, Clara slid the phone back into her pocket, her hands trembling. She told herself she wasn’t choosing sides. That she was only going to hear Lyana out. That she deserved at least one person on her side. But deep down, she knew. She was already leaning. ⸻

Those women were happy with the money they got, trying every way they could think of to comfort me, but the result was always the same: completely empty. Not one of them could ever be Cassandra. Her smile was so gentle, her voice soft and full of care, her teary eyes holding that quiet plea to be loved. Her touch was always full of feeling and never… “Get away from me!” I shoved the woman who was grabbing my collar, wanting something and acting all over-the-top to get it. She thought she had the right to act like that—that cheap woman glared at me sharply as she fell. Cassandra had never done that to me.

Perhaps this will give me understanding. I order two waffle sandwiches with pieces of omelet rounds and bacon slices, remembering how Evers enjoyed the maple bacon donut that the wolf male had gifted me. The little woman presses the silver square on the screen twice, it says "WFB" and I make a mental note. I sit next to the door as I wait on the pink haired beauty to arrive. I observe the people who enter and those I can see from the window. I pretend not to see Evers as I 'read' the book while she makes her way towards me. "Aislaine! So sorry, I'm running behind. I overslept. Well, I always oversleep. You look nice this morning! I love the top." She sits down across from me and I open the b

I don’t care if I do that, yet this woman… I might hurt her. So, decided not to. @DEATH WISH Thank you so much... @Kimberly (Alpha King Checkmate) for dropping comments! PLEASE HAVE A POSITIVE REVIEW! Thank you for supporting my Novel! Also follow me at facebookPage: International_Pen Books You may also read my complete Novel, (hmmm... while waiting for an update) Title: TAMING THE DANGEROUS CEO THE DEVILISH BILLIONAIRE FATED TO MARRY THE DEVIL

A group of bodyguards forced me to my knees, holding my shoulders in the most humiliating position possible. Samson shoved his phone in my face, a cruel, gloating smile on his lips. The moment I saw the screen, every drop of blood in my body seemed to freeze. My mother, who had loved me more than anything, was tied to a wooden frame, while several bulky men raised iron rods and smashed them down onto her legs. Her painful screams echoed through the abandoned warehouse. They ignored her desperate pleas. Then, those disgusting men moved in to tear off her clothes. Samson waved his phone, smiling as if it were nothing. "What now? Still want to act tough?"

I wrote about the slow, painful awakening—the first client meeting for the Tribeca project, the thrill of seeing my name in *New York Magazine*, the terrifying freedom of buying the penthouse in my own name. Every sentence was a reclamation. The clock passed midnight, then 2 a.m. I didn’t stop. The pain I poured onto the page wasn’t just mine anymore. It belonged to every woman who had ever dimmed her light for a man who took her for granted. The novel was becoming a mirror for the invisible wives of Manhattan’s elite, and that realization fueled me. A soft knock startled me around 3 a.m. Khalid stood in the doorway, wearing pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt, his hair disheveled from restles