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The Glass Door novel

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Twisted Love, Sweet Revenge
allI'm Miranda Oakley. I've had 99 hymen reconstruction surgeries because my boyfriend, Carson Stallone, likes it that way. He promises to marry me after I undergo the same surgery for the 100th time.I leave the hospital in glee. Tonight, I plan to give Carson an unforgettable night as it's our 100th time making love.I cautiously push open the mansion door and suddenly overhear chatter and laughter inside, and my name is also brought up in conversation.I stop walking at once."Carson, I can't believe that you've managed to fool the most elite social butterfly in Seafare City, and she still thinks that you're going to marry her."What if she finds out that your fiancee won't even be her two weeks from now? Do you think she's going to lose her mind? She might even send her clients to get revenge on you!"Carson takes a drag on his cigarette and smirks. "She wouldn't dare. I have videos of her doing the deed with 99 different men. If she tries anything, I'll just leak them all online and make her infamous for the rest of her life.""Oh god, that's genius, Carson! She probably still doesn't know that you weren't the one sleeping with her each time, but rather a bunch of random old men!"Carson's friends clap in delight and praise him for his brilliance and ruthlessness. I freeze completely in shock. No wonder Carson always brings me a warm glass of milk every time we sleep together. It was so that other men could take advantage of me.I tear up the reconstruction surgery report and turn to leave.Since he isn't planning to propose to me, then I'm going to fulfill his wishes and find someone else to marry.
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Goodbye Scumbag, Hello True Love
all"I'm so over Cassandra." Aidan Ziegler sneers, swirling his wine glass with a lazy smirk. "A real woman is soft and sweet—like Clara. As for her..." In the corner, a glass suddenly shatters in a man's palm. Cassandra Callum stands frozen, holding the cake she made to celebrate their three-year anniversary, eyes locked on the blood trickling down from his sharply defined fingers. Tristan Freeman, head of Freeman Group, slowly wipes his hand clean. His dark gaze sweeps over her tear-reddened eyes. "Ms. Callum, would you like to marry me?" The city explodes with gossip. Everyone thinks a broke little designer has climbed her way into wealth and power— what no one knows is that this marriage is a trap Tristan set five years ago. His private gallery holds over a thousand sketches of her profile—from that day in sophomore year when she crouched in a rainy alley feeding a stray cat, to her backstage at a runway abroad, gently arranging jewelry. Late at night, he stares at security footage, cigarette in hand, as Aidan kneels in a storm, soaked and shaking. Tristan suddenly pulls his delicate wife into his arms. Later, a finance reporter captures the once cold and ruthless Tristan, down on one knee before Cassandra. His hands tremble as he holds a pregnancy test. Cassandra flashes her wedding ring and laughs softly. "Surprised, Mr. Freeman?" Tristan, once known for being sharp and vicious, blinks back tears, then presses a trembling kiss to the faded mark on her ring finger. "Cassie, when you were 22, I wanted to say..." "Say what?" He leans in, his voice hoarse as he whispers, "The cake was really sweet."
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