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i've got super rich dad CHAPTER 1 novel

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Mafia Obsession
By: Laila AliRomanceDARK ROMANCE "Sir, I am in a dire need of loan. Its very important, my friends life is at stake. I assure you I'll try my best to return the loan asap." She breathlessly said it all. Her eyes were filled with hope and expectations. He was her last hope. "Miss Sheharzaad," Shehryaar said, while standing up from his chair causing her to instantly stand up. "Yes sir" she replied, her voice troublesome yet confident. He walked towards the other side of the table and sat on the chair parallel to her. "Keep sitting, please." He said, like a gentleman and she sat down. She tightly held her hands together. A life could be saved by his single yes. "Sir please," she pleaded. "I agree. You can have the loan, but I have a condition." "I agree to your every condition sir" she replied with a little smile of victory on her face. "Think before you speak, Miss Sheharzaad." "I trust you." "I want a one night stand with you." He dropped the bomb. ............ "Every women is nothing but a , a and you're also one of them." He said making her wriggling double against the ropes, which tied her. "You're wrong." She replied with a sheer determination in her eyes. He harshly gripped held her chin and bobbed her head up towards him. "Oh, I'll prove it to you then." He spoke with an immense intensity and a promise in his eyes. "You'll now serve me as my personal escort, Sheharzaad." He declared and threaded his fingers into her silky locks, pasting his lips on hers, her brutally. He didn't trust womankind and she was a strong woman. He wanted shatter and break her into pieces so he could satisfy himself.
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Billionaire's Regret, Too Late!
By: Ela OsaretinUrban Romance"Lucien, let's get a divorce," I said in a peremptory tone that was long overdue, the most decisive farewell to this absurd marriage.We had been married for exactly three years—three years that, for me, were filled with nothing but endless loneliness and torment.For three years, the husband who should have stood by my side through every storm, Lucien Sullivan, had completely disappeared from my life as if he had never existed. He vanished without a trace, leaving me alone to endure this empty, desolate marriage.Today, I finally received his message:"I'm back. Come pick me up at the airport."When I read his words, my heart leapt with joy, and I raced to the airport, thinking that he finally understood my love and was coming back to me. But his cruelty was far worse than I could have ever imagined—he was accompanied by a pregnant woman, and that woman was Carla, my closest and most trusted friend.In that moment, all of my previous excitement, all my hope, and all of our shared laughter and tears turned into the sharpest of daggers, stabbing into my heart and leaving me gasping for air.Now, all I want is to escape from this place that has left me so broken—to lick my wounds in solitude. Even if these wounds will remain with me for the rest of my life, I refuse to have anything to do with him ever again.He should know that it was his own hand that trampled our love underfoot, that his coldness and betrayal created this irreparable situation. But when he heard those words, he desperately clung to this broken, crumbling marriage, unwilling to let it end—almost as though doing so could rewind time and return everything to how it used to be."Aurora, come back. I regret everything!"Regret? Those simple words stirred no emotion in me—only endless sadness and fury. My heart let out a frantic, desperate scream: It's too late for any of this!
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Cuando el Amor Llega Tarde
Romántica—Señor Fernández, felicidades por pasar la entrevista en línea de nuestra empresa. La oferta ya ha sido enviada a su correo. Le pedimos que se incorpore en Londres dentro de dos semanas. ¿Tiene alguna pregunta? —la voz al otro lado del teléfono, con un acento inglés impecable, provenía de un hombre al otro lado del Atlántico. —Ningún problema, estaré allí a tiempo. —Vicente Fernández respondió sin dudar, con firmeza y serenidad. Apenas colgó el teléfono, el sonido del pomo de la puerta girando llamó su atención. Leticia Gutiérrez entró al cuarto con su andar decidido y, sin rodeos, le extendió una bolsa de papel, —Ayer surgió un imprevisto en la firma y no pude pasar el Año Nuevo contigo. Espero que no estés molesto. —su tono era sincero, pero no parecía esperar una respuesta. Vicente tomó la bolsa y la abrió. Dentro, al fondo de la bolsa, descansaba solitaria una pulsera de madera de sándalo. No había esfuerzo alguno en la presentación, ni siquiera una envoltura adecuada para la ocasión. Aquella pulsera, aunque costosa, no lo era por sí misma, sino por el conjunto al que pertenecía. Era un regalo accesorio de otra pulsera hecha de valiosa madera de agar. El hecho de que esta pulsera estuviera allí significaba que Leticia había adquirido el juego completo. Sin embargo, había decidido regalarle a él solo el complemento. Si no fuera por las fotos que Pedro González le envió ayer, donde se veía una pulsera de agar de gran tamaño y calidad sobresaliente, Vicente jamás habría sospechado. Cinco años de relación y su novia había optado por regalarle a él el accesorio y a otra persona el verdadero tesoro.
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