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Id	Vlad	Saved	Scrape Time	Status	Scrape Result	Title	Body	Cta Type	Link Url	Page Name	Page Profile Uri	Page Like Count	Enddate	Cta Text	Caption	Display Format	Link Description	Link Url	Creation Time	Page Profile Picture Url	Page Entity Type	Current Page Name	Startdate	Actions
2,147,874	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2147870}'	Yes	2024-10-11 19:57	active	1608	Established Coach Ready to Elevate Your Business? 👉🏾	🗣 Reaching Out To All My Fellow Coaches Ready For The Next Step Of Their Journey! You've established yourself as a coach, helping others achieve their goals... but now you're ready to elevate your business to the next level 📈 Well... this is where I come in! 👋🏾 Hey! My name’s Coach Kelly J, widely known as 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗲𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗮𝗰𝗵™ and if you can’t tell, I’ve been in the coaching industry for decades now… I genuinely believe that if you have ANY skill in ANY area, then there are countless people out there who NEED your help & will PAY you for that help! 💰 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 is what separates me from other coaches you’ll find all over the internet. The only thing stopping you from scaling your business and maximizing your impact is the unhelpful beliefs and strategies holding you back. 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 - 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝟮 𝗼𝗿 𝟯 𝗵𝗶𝗴𝗵-𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝘁 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗻𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘂𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗮𝗰𝘁! Now for the best bit... this week, I’m holding a FREE Masterclass for established coaches looking to supercharge their growth and become industry leaders. → www.impactfulandpaidcoachworkshop.com I’m going to reveal the EXACT STRATEGIES I used to transform my coaching business from modest beginnings to a powerhouse in the industry. I'll also give you an honest, valuable insight into what it takes to elevate your business and achieve sustainable growth + learn how to do so while maintaining balance. You WILL Discover: ✅ How To Attract and Retain High-Ticket Clients ✅ How To Position Yourself As An Authority In Your Niche ✅ How To Transition From Working IN Your Business To Working ON Your Business ✅ My Top 5 Advanced Strategies To Scale Quickly ✅ And MUCH More! → www.impactfulandpaidcoachworkshop.com You'll have to be quick though, the last time I ran one of these Free Classes we completely maxed out ⏳	SIGN_UP	https://www.impactfulandpaidcoachworkshop.com/home	Coach Kelly J	https://www.facebook.com/CoachKellyJefferson/	34,063	1969-12-31 18:00	Sign up	impactfulandpaidcoachworkshop.com	VIDEO		https://www.impactfulandpaidcoachworkshop.com/home	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/455291953_1159676098422602_4583662924280657221_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=k3ea1UMzWXUQ7kNvgHRObBu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AQqgly96YARvYnJGVYB6r5J&oh=00_AYC7jHdW2b5skFiDlzJplTc2zLfcITTtDxeVy9Mcn2BxoA&oe=670F8EB0	PERSON_PROFILE	Coach Kelly J	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,147,801	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2147799}'	No	2024-10-11 19:57	active	1608	Your advisor knows the way.	Let's connect.	LEARN_MORE	https://www.midlandstech.edu/student-resources?utm	Midlands Technical College	https://www.facebook.com/midlandstech/	15,560	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	midlandstech.edu	CAROUSEL	Let's connect.	https://www.midlandstech.edu/student-resources?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=paid_display&utm_campaign=retention&utm_content=v3_advisor_carousel	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462589435_551626287239964_701953843889931128_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Clpe3BjZMVIQ7kNvgHdxiWN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ACvclxTrRPCFVBFugQnc0E8&oh=00_AYD2xxrgwXVvMGsnK3TWiJlzrCVHStt6F2hE2VWlFDTh_g&oe=670FB277	PERSON_PROFILE	Midlands Technical College	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,155,667	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2155666}'	Yes	2024-10-12 18:36	active	1612	Provincetown Art Association and Museum.		LEARN_MORE	https://paam.org/education/land-place-identity-ina	Provincetown Art Association and Museum	https://www.facebook.com/paam1914/	6,829	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	paam.org	CAROUSEL		https://paam.org/education/land-place-identity-inaugural-symposium-on-american-art/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462712994_1057987019239842_3713673018948834375_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=_JM_dGftgKwQ7kNvgHB8eoq&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AK3N4u_9UAqkTxzfGmx4wRW&oh=00_AYCpS0bUNpH4kNW5YNFHeWk-tZzZ_ozBjuqNmpRQPiBR0A&oe=6710DDB2	PERSON_PROFILE	Provincetown Art Association and Museum	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,150,322	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2150206}'	No	2024-10-11 20:18	active	1609	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	The clearing of a throat makes me jump. I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” I whisper, getting to my feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. Alpha Trey was going to kill me. I do as I’m told. Allowing him to see me properly and I am met with narrowed crimson eyes. I close my own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” My head moved up and down, though I couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about me. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” I whisper. “I am…I am a Wolf.” I couldn’t help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? I wasn’t sure how much more my body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” I hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. I knew why I couldn’t scent him. I knew why I hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something I ever liked to do. They never hear my side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them. There was no way I was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” “For killing my parents.”	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=11782&u	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/61557831245498/	22	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	wwwedb.com	DCO		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=11782&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/447959759_1311554859802432_4227718076479884991_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vveINTNjADMQ7kNvgGqWrdW&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHv7HimBTbHRfS3rrBv7m3A&oh=00_AYDoblLHHhiOT7D9cyT9GZmnP0KVegNEaKkX2Aakd96oqA&oe=670F891D	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,147,859	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2148451}'	No	2024-10-11 19:57	active	1608	Buy 3 get 1 for $1! 🔥	Go ahead, buy 3 tires and get the 4th for only $1, as a lil treat 😋 📲 Tap "Get Offer" to lock in your appointment and your savings RIGHT NOW! 👇	GET_OFFER	http://fb.me/	Larry H. Miller Southwest Hyundai Albuquerque	https://www.facebook.com/southwest.hyundai/	3,482	1969-12-31 18:00	Get Offer	fb.me	DCO	You know you need some tires 👉	http://fb.me/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462659567_463318913389511_837569984454084405_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=AiprVc_MHuoQ7kNvgFLEJ9b&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aw8Ry6hddSFwSO6txbo-S-j&oh=00_AYClzXBQ1JHSpbekq_93C2uOII_mkKyJiOE0hfK4BJUumg&oe=670FA276	PERSON_PROFILE	Larry H. Miller Southwest Hyundai Albuquerque	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,148,326	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2148325}'	No	2024-10-11 19:57	active	1608			LEARN_MORE	http://www.jkparkerauction.com/	JK Parker Auction Service	https://www.facebook.com/JKParkerAuction/	1,356	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	https://www.jkparkerauction.com/10-19-2024-auction...	CAROUSEL		http://www.jkparkerauction.com/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462697101_1942479296231459_7422011683813324602_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-rNQros93YkQ7kNvgHXD9Xy&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AmJJPOullH4EjcK8E7xf00l&oh=00_AYCj3rk0r75QouHJNuEag9MSAmu_mfgZjN4v5WNOsC_M_w&oe=670FA85E	PERSON_PROFILE	JK Parker Auction Service	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,155,777	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2156263}'	Yes	2024-10-12 18:36	active	1612	Để lại SĐT nhận ưu đãi tới 80% + soi nang tóc miễn phí	Tại sao bỏ cả trăm triệu đi cấy tóc mà không hiệu quả??? ⏩"DÀNH CHO NHỮNG AI ĐANG HÓI ĐẦU - TÓC THƯA ❌KHÔNG PHẪU THUẬT - KHÔNG ĐAU - KHÔNG NGHỈ DƯỠNG ✨Chấm Dứt Rụng Tóc, Tóc Gãy, Hói Đầu,... cho cả nam và nữ chỉ sau Liệu Trình tái sinh mầm tóc NanoMaxHair 💥Ưu đãi tới 80% cho 19 khách hàng đầu tiên KHÔNG PHẪU THUẬT - KHÔNG ĐAU - KHÔNG NGHỈ DƯỠNG ✔️ Thay thế và kích thích các nang tóc yếu, kích thích tóc mọc tự thân ✔️ Tóc dài suôn mượt mà không cần xâm lấn, đau đớn ✔️ Ngăn ngừa gãy rụng, tóc dài chắc khỏe Đặc biệt, an toàn cho tất cả các loại da, mọi lứa tuổi. NHANH TAY ĐĂNG KÝ NGAY!! -----------------❖❖❖--------------- 🏢 HỆ THỐNG PHÒNG KHÁM DA LIỄU QUỐC TẾ MERCY 📍 CN1: 72 Ô Chợ Dừa, Quận Đống Đa, TP. Hà Nội 📍 CN2: 117 Điện Biên Phủ , Phường Đa Kao , Quận 1, TP. Hồ Chí Minh ☎️Hotline: 0868.924.234	MESSAGE_PAGE		Ths. Bác Sĩ Vũ Phương Anh	https://www.facebook.com/Tocbacvk/	1,569	1969-12-31 18:00	Send message		VIDEO			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462365260_1278076986695933_5681198762232667208_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0f80Sivl3VAQ7kNvgFftbpb&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AZdcCLA-v75eGXzWPPvmM0d&oh=00_AYCligDS8L0r3TNIOc1VRmM_DLNOa9qfdsA0hZ1eurQ6LQ&oe=6710D94D	PERSON_PROFILE	Ths. Bác Sĩ Vũ Phương Anh	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,155,904	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2155317}'	Yes	2024-10-12 18:36	active	1612	Want more chapter?🔞👉	“You’re soaked,” Alpha Aden groans, kneeling between my legs. My wolf is clawing and clawing at me, desperate for his touch. But I can’t… Because he’s my boyfriend’s father. * I’d just about given up hope on ever feeling my heat. By the time most she-wolves were my age, they’d already settled down and had at least one pup. Instead, I felt like I was dead inside until I met Hudson a few months ago. He ignites a spark in me, something I think could be more. My love life is looking up, and I think I’m finally ready to take the next step. Not just because things were…awakened…today. But because Hudson is perfect. He’s sexy, thoughtful, attentive…. We can talk for hours about the books we love. And when I said I didn’t want to go too far too fast, he was okay with that. He’s never pushed for more than kissing. When I told him I wasn’t ready to have sex yet, he was okay and didn’t try to make me feel guilty. It made me like him even more. Today…today I’m ready. And I’m going to tell him. I take a sip of my cappuccino as I look at him. Goddess, he’s handsome. Tall and muscular but not too bulky, and I love how his curly chestnut hair falls into his green eyes. Hudson catches me staring at him as he reads, looking up and flashing me that sexy, playful grin of his. He sticks a receipt between the pages to mark his place, sets the book beside him on the couch, and then shifts his body to turn toward me. “Whatcha thinkin’, lovely?” My cheeks flush. “Do you really want to know?” “Always,” Hudson replies, placing a warm hand on my leg right above my knee. “I think I’m ready.” All of the air leaves my lungs as I finally say the words. Hudson’s eyes widen, and his fingers tighten on my leg. Before he can answer, movement over his shoulder catches my eye. One of the biggest dudes I’ve ever seen is standing at the end of a row of books, staring at us. Intently. He looks…scary. There’s something about him that dings my radar, even though I’m used to seeing criminals in the prison. He’s well over six feet tall, and his professional suit does nothing to disguise how bulky he is. My eyes are drawn to the cruel scar that runs diagonally over his face, almost splitting his nose in two. I sniff the air. Definitely a wolf shifter, too. So how does he have a scar like that? I can’t fathom what would have happened to permanently mark him like that. A shudder runs through me at the thought. “Hudson… There’s…a guy over there. And he’s staring right at us,” I say quietly. Hudson turns to look directly at the brawny guy, and I want to sink into the floor when the guy starts walking toward us. “Don’t worry about him,” Hudson answers, frustration in his voice. “Hudson, he’s looking right at—” “He’s with me. That’s Preston. He’s…my bodyguard.” Hudson shoots a glare at the huge guy, his brow furrowing. The guys stops walking toward us. “He usually does a better job of keeping out of sight.” Wait, what? He needs a bodyguard? My eyes go to the fancy watch he’s wearing today. I’d always assumed it was a knock-off, but now I’m not so sure… The questions are stacking up, and my wolf is on edge. What else is Hudson hiding? And why has none of this ever come up before on our dates? More importantly, how did I miss all of this? I’m a trained professional. Reading people and evaluating them is literally my job right now. If I can’t even read my own boyfriend, how will I ever succeed in my chosen profession. My stomach twists. “Just ignore him. My dad gets overprotective.” Hudson rolls his eyes. “Honestly, he’s so stressed out about safety that he could use a shrink like you to give him some counseling.” He laughs, then winks at me playfully. I can tell the conversation is over and I’m not going to get anything else out of him. “Anytime,” I mutter, nervously playing with my long red hair, worrying about the mismatch between Hudson’s apparent wealth and my poor grad student status. I’ve never met anyone who has a bodyguard. “Can I get you anything else?” Hudson and I look up at the barista smiling down at us, a handsome blond-haired guy with an apron tied around his waist. The guy’s timing couldn’t be worse. “No thanks, Chase,” I say, giving him a big grin at the same time Hudson smiles and says, “Can we both get refills?” “Oh, actually…” I look up at the clock and push my hair back behind my ears. If I don’t leave now, I’m going to be late for my job doing psych evaluations at the state prison. “She’ll take hers to go then,” Hudson says, rising from our sofa. He follows Chase back to the coffee counter to grab our drinks. I start to pack up my bag so I can grab the next train, when I notice Hudson’s phone vibrating on the table. When the number disappears, his home screen shows a family photo. The tall man in the back is certainly his dad, the other maybe an older brother? As I’m staring at the picture, the phone rings again—the same number. Must be important. I grab the phone and sling my bag over my shoulder, heading towards the coffee counter. But there’s no one here. I look around, confused. I definitely just saw Chase and Hudson head this way… There’s a noise from the back room, a strange and muffled thump and a moan. I take two steps forward and peek around the door. Maybe they both— Oh my god. Not two feet from me, my boyfriend presses Chase up against the wall of the storage room. One fist is wrapped in the fabric of Chase’s shirt, the other down Chase’s pants. He’s kissing him passionately, hungrily. Chase’s eyes are closed, his hands fumbling at the button and zipper of Hudson’s pants—whispering my boyfriend’s name. My heart stops for a few seconds as I stare at the scene in front of me. Then, rage takes over—masking the hurt starting to unfurl in my chest. “Are you kidding me!?” I’m not even thinking as I chuck the phone at Hudson and his lover. The guys jump, leaping apart. “Brooklyn— I—” Hudson’s face is full of shock. Tears in my eyes, I run from the room and from the coffee shop. “Brooklyn!” Hudson spills out onto the street behind me. “You don’t understand!” He grabs my arm, pulling me back to him. If ever I forgot he was a male wolf more powerful than me, I’m reminded of his strength now. “I really like you,” he says, his eyes filled with apology. “You’re amazing… It’s just that my family wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t approve—” He scrubs a hand over his face. “You know how some wolves are about this kind of thing. How some packs are. This…me and Chase… It’s complicated.” “So, what? You just want me to be your pretend girlfriend!?” I rip my arm from his hand. “Not interested.” “Please. I can make this right! How much do you want? One million? Three million?” He pulls out his phone, and I see him tap on a banking app. “I don’t want your money.” Hudson blinks in confusion, and I turn away. “I’ll keep your secret, and you don’t need to pay me off. I just don’t want to see you again.” Just like that, my possible fairy tale with Prince Charming was over. I hurry down the street, my eyes filling with angry tears. My wolf, Lena, is struggling to take over. She wants to go back and tear Hudson to shreds. His bodyguard would probably keep that from happening, though. But a girl can dream. I manage to make it on the train in time, sinking onto the bench and closing my eyes. My head falls back to rest against the window, and I take deep, calming breaths to re-center myself. Today couldn’t have gone any worse. No wonder I’m still a virgin…my instincts were so off that I’ve been dating a gay man. Nope. Not gonna wallow. Lena chuffs in agreement. * Two hours later, I’m seated at a plastic table in a cinder-block cell, my hands are resting on my paperwork in front of me, and my hair is tied back in what I hope is a professional look. My leg jitters with nerves. I need to shift, to run off this excess energy, these raging emotions. But I straighten up in my seat, taking a deep breath. I have to concentrate on my job now, and I’m incredibly tense about my next assignment. I’ve only been assigned basic white-collar criminals thus far. Some human, some wolf, none of them dangerous. But today I have to make an assessment of Aden Kenwood. He’s not just a formidable wolf; he’s a mafia king, too. His unmatched cruelty and the unbelievable lengths he’ll go to in order to protect his power are infamous in Grayling City. As a psychology grad student working on my real-life work assignments here at the prison, they typically assign me all of the easy psych evals. But the guy who handles the werewolf inmate evals is out today, and everyone else on staff is human. The last thing they are going to do is put a human in the room with such a notorious and dangerous wolf shifter. So…I’m up to bat. And the incident with Hudson? Not helping my nerves one bit. The hallway door clangs open, and I quickly stand, pulling down on the hem of my blazer to straighten it. This is by far the most nervous I’ve been since I started this gig. The guards bring Kenwood around the corner, and I’m surprised. I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting, but I wasn’t expecting this. He looks nothing like what I could have ever pictured. This man is muscular and tall, moving with a kind of dangerous grace. My eyes follow the way his shoulders shift beneath the fabric of his orange prison uniform, the way that the guards flinch a little as they unlock the silver cuffs on his wrists. This is one powerful wolf shifter. No doubt about it. I can see why everyone fears him. His mere presence ignites something in me I’ve never felt before, and I have to squeeze my thighs together to quell the rush of desire between my legs. I stifle a gasp as my eyes finally fall on Kenwood’s face and take him in, my mouth going dry. His dark hair falling over his forehead, his square jaw, the deep frown lines etched over green eyes… Oh goddess. Is this what a she-wolf’s heat feels like? I gasp as my eyes finally fall on Kenwood’s face and take him in, my mouth going dry. His dark hair falling over his forehead, his square jaw, the deep frown lines etched over green eyes… Oh my god. I’ve seen this man before. I saw him today—on my boyfriend’s phone. And I’ve seen a younger version of him etched in the features of my boyfriend’s face. Hudson isn’t just some rich kid. He’s the son of the mafia king. Aden I follow the guards to a cinder-block cell at the end of the hallway, noting that my lawyer is standing outside the door. He rolls his eyes at me and points at his watch, indicating that he’ll have me out of here in no time. I nod, then focus my attention on the door. I’m surprised to see a girl. No, not a girl. A young woman—twenty-three, at the most. She stands up, clearly anxious, biting her lip and playing with the long red ponytail that drifts over her shoulder. Her mouth falls open, just slightly, as she takes me in. God dammit. My body tenses at the sight of her—those long legs, knocked at the knees with anxiety, her short white skirt, that ridiculous blazer that she wears so people like me will take her seriously. If my wrists weren’t bound in silver, my canines would be dropping right now, my wolf anxious for a taste of her. I can tell from a single glance that she’s pure as the driven snow—ambitious but poor, eager to prove herself. My eyes rove over her… What would she look like if I ripped that unflattering blazer off her? I focus again on those red lips, slightly parted. My breath hisses from my mouth at the sight of those lips, at the thought of what I could do with them—of what I could make them do to me. There’s a low rumble in my chest as I hold back my growl, and my pants tighten as I get hard. “Um,” she says, hesitant. I snap my attention back to her jewel-blue eyes. “My name is Brooklyn Knox? I’m here to do your preliminary interview for state psychological assessment?” I grit my teeth, denying the urge to smile slowly at the fact that her statements are presented as questions. God, she’s perfect, this little angel. The feral, leashed part of me wants to know what she’d look like with a little bit of the underworld’s grime smeared all over her. I want to ruin her, put her on her knees for me. I want to own her in every way imaginable, destroy her for any other man. They don’t call me a monster for nothing. “Hello, Brooklyn,” I say, my voice low and hungry as I move forward and settle into the chair across from her. “Where do we begin?”Brooklyn I hesitate, settling down in my chair across from Aden. He’s all feral wolf, and instead of feeling like the strong she-wolf I am, I feel like a doe waiting to feel his teeth sink into my neck for the kill. His wolf flares in his eyes as he stares at me, almost as if he could leap across the table at any moment and gobble me up. Images flash through my mind of my skirt hiked up around my waist while Aden Kenwood buries his face between my thighs, literally gobbling me up… I give myself a mental shake. Nope. This is Hudson’s father—mafia king, powerful shifter, and bad, bad news. That’s why Hudson has a bodyguard, that’s why he has so much money. I quirk my head to the side, still staring at Kenwood, realizing that this is also why Hudson is hiding his sexuality. Many of the powerful wolf packs and crimes families in Grayling City are notoriously conservative, and family is everything. A gay son would never be accepted in some packs—especially a son that is expected to provide an heir. I can’t imagine being Hudson…having to hide who I loved, pretending to love someone else. Pulling myself back to the here and now, I realize that the man in front of me is smiling, just slightly, his eyes moving over me as I stare at him like a deer in the headlights. My body’s response to him, thinking about his head buried between my legs…there’s no way he doesn’t smell how turned on I am. I clench my jaw, reminding myself that he is the villain. No matter how much of a traitor my wolf and my body are right now. There is NO way I’m feeling my heat for this man. Not at all. “So.” I turn back to my papers, nervously swallowing. You’ve done this a thousand times, Brooklyn! I remind myself. You could do this in your sleep! “Can you please state your name and place of birth?” I ask, trying to regain control of the assessment. “I believe,” Kenwood says slowly, “that you’re already aware of my history.” He leans back, studying me. I lift my eyes to glare at his boldness—he’s so rude. But, unfortunately, he’s right. Everyone in Grayling City knows this information. I quickly fill out the form. I glance up at him, struck once again by the grim, lethal quality to his face. Aden Kenwood is all jagged edges and rough shards…and some dark part of me wants to cut my teeth on them. I drag my gaze away from him, feeling a shiver pass through me, tapping its fingers down my spine. Somehow, I imagine that they’re Aden’s fingers… I quickly dismiss the thought and try to focus on what I’m supposed to be doing. My wolf, Lena, whines at me, and I shush her. I’m so off-kilter that I actually have to look down and read the words I’d long ago memorized. “The rest of the questions that I ask you today will be of a personal and psychological nature,” I say, giving the canned speech I’m required to say to all inmates. “The state does require that you answer all questions fully and honestly as part of the assessment. Do you understand?” Aden is silent in response, and I look up at him, a knee-jerk reaction to an unresponsive patient. He’s smirking at me, unblinking. “Little girl,” he says, slowly leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “what gives you the right to ask me anything about my history and my mind?” I sit straight in my chair, unnerved by such a question. “The state has hired me to administer these examinations—” “Do you have a degree?” he cuts in. “Some kind of…certificate?” The final word is heavy with derision. I frown at him and reach down to rifle through my bag, producing the certified paperwork from the state that qualifies me for this position. “Here. If you’re so curious.” I reach across the table to hand it to him. A second before he grabs my wrist, I realize my mistake. He snatches my hand, fully capturing it in his, pulling me forward against the table, careful not to let the silver binding his wrists touch my skin. It doesn’t quite hurt, but, surprised, I drop the paperwork as I gasp, looking up at him. I’m terrified as he brings my hand close to his face, and then— Oh my goddess— Slowly, indulgently, he runs his nose across the ivory skin of my wrist. “Chamomile, lavender,” he murmurs, closing his eyes, taking in my scent. “So fresh and clean…untainted by the scent of another wolf.” Then he opens his eyes and stares into my bewildered face, wanting to see my reaction as he says, “You must be a virgin.” My lip trembles. His eyes eat me up, savoring the quiver of my lips, my wide, terrified eyes. I swear I feel his tongue flick over my pulse point, hear a low groan. “So innocent, so pure…” His grip tightens, and even confined by silver that should keep it from happening, his wolf flashes in his eyes. “Two of my favorite things to destroy.” Brooklyn A guard flies through the door. “Hands off!” he yells, but Aden has already released my wrist, raising his hands over his head, perfectly calm. “Sorry,” he says, back to smirking, his eyes on me. “Won’t happen again.” I blink at him, sitting back in my chair. I straighten my shoulders, unable to take my eyes off him. “Are you all right, miss?” the guard says, leaning forward to look me over. “I’m fine.” I rub my wrist with my other hand. I’m not hurt, just…shocked? Turned on? Confused? I clear my throat and look back down at my papers. “We will…we will proceed.” I work to steel myself, determined to regain control, to finish this interview. Failure isn’t an option if I want to graduate. I give Kenwood a steady glare, raising my chin. I’m tougher than he thinks I am. Picking up my pen again, I’m grateful that my hands aren’t shaking. “Please,” I say, focusing again on the paper. “Can you tell me about the crime for which you were imprisoned? I see—” “Your little skirt,” he says, grinning wolfishly at the fact that he’s riled me so easily, “is also very precious. You have beautiful legs, and that skirt’s the perfect length to—” “Please, Mr. Kenwood,” I repeat, surprised to hear it come out with a little growl. “I demand your respect during this process. Please be aware that what I report today will affect the rest of your time in prison, as well as your chances for early release. So I suggest that you take this process seriously.” Kenwood’s response is to laugh at me. “Darling,” he says, leaning forward again. “I couldn’t take you seriously if I tried.” I blink at him, stunned, but it quickly turns to rage. I clench my fist, my knuckles almost white, working to keep Lena’s temper at bay inside of me. The last place I can shift is here. Aden looks down at my fist and grins. “Now, now, Doc. No fair teasing. I like it a little rough.” “Mr. Kenwood,” I bite out, “if you aren’t interested in cooperating with me, I’d rather not waste my time. I’ll just let the guard know you’re being combative.” I stand up with bravado I don’t feel, and raise my hand, waving to the guard standing right outside the door. In a flash, Aden’s demeanor changes. Gone is the relaxed, playful wolf who’s been teasing me. Instead of the mischievous twinkle in his eyes at knocking me off-kilter, all the sharp edges and darkness are back. I can’t look away, overwhelmed, almost hypnotized by his glare. Finally, I dart my eyes away, staring down at the floor—anywhere but at him. “You looked away first.” He studies me. “Didn’t your parents, your Alpha teach you not to show weakness? Not to take your eyes off the enemy? In the battlefield, you’d have died by my hand—or my wolf’s teeth. Pitiful.” Riled, I raise my eyes to stare him down, determined not to look away first. “Good,” he laughs. “I like my girls with a little fight in them.” My face goes pale and red at once. I’m enraged, mortified to have fallen for his trick. I know better! But also—god dammit—I feel my nipples go hard under my blazer. His steely gaze moves to my chest, as if he knows it, the rumble of a growl in his chest deepening. I grab my pen again, scrawling words across the paper as fast as I can. Constantly defiant, ruthlessly sociopathic, no remorse. Recommend continued imprisonment, without parole. “This is finished.” I gather my papers as fast as I can, shoving them, crinkled, into my bag. He’s laughing softly as I hurry. I take a breath, throw my shoulders back, and then give him what I hope is a withering glare as I move towards the door. I pound twice on the metal, and the guard lets me out. I don’t look at Kenwood again as I start to leave. “Oh, Doc…” his voice echoes behind me. My cheeks burn and I grit my teeth as I turn to hear his parting words. “I’ll see you on the outside,” he says, giving me a dark smirk. “You can count on it.” “Not if I have anything to say about it,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I storm out, the guard shutting the door behind me. My paperwork recommends his eternal imprisonment. As far as I’m concerned, I’ll never see him again. And good riddance. However, when I return, I get on my laptop and open a search engine. My cheeks grow red for what feels like the millionth time today and I find myself typing “Aden Kenwood” into the search bar. I’m surprised by the results. The news channel that Dad watches every night calls Aden Kenwood the Werewolf Mafia King—or just “the Wolf King” sometimes, to appeal to the human demographic and pearl-clutchers. They are always detailing his dirty deeds, but the sites I’m looking show him standing in front of a tech company in Silicon Valley, calling him the CEO. Another site lists positive reviews of his many businesses, with employees suggesting that he’s a great boss. Still another… God, is that Brad Pitt he’s shaking hands with in that photo? Scrolling farther down, there are reports and articles about packs wanting to form and make him their Alpha. It appears he always declines… I gather my hair in my hands, passively starting to braid it as I look through the results, trying to match what I’m seeing here with the man I met in the prison the other day. “Whatcha looking at?” my sister, Jolie flops onto the couch, grabbing the laptop out of my hands. “Hey!” I squeal, snatching at it. “Jolie, give it back!” “Oooohhhh,” she says, scrolling through the photos of Aden. “Now this is a hottie who could light a little fire under me, for sure.” She nods appreciatively. “Who is this?” “Aden Kenwood,” I say, hugging my knees to my chest. “I had to interview him at the prison the other day because the shifter who usually does it was out and I was their only other shifter. He was…unnerving.” Jolie flicks her eyes to me, considering. “Did he scare you?” I shrug. “A little.” She narrows her eyes a bit, snapping the laptop shut. “Okay, that’s it. You’re coming out with me tonight, baby Brooklyn,” she says, sliding across the couch to give me a big hug. “You’ve had a hard time with your gay boyfriend and the scary Mafia King. You’ve got to have some fun!” I laugh, letting her wrap me up. “Okay, okay! Geeze, I’ll come.” Little did I know how much these separate aspects of my life would collide in just a few hours. *** The music pounds in the club and, I have to admit, I’m really starting to have fun. Lena is even loosening up a little bit, and she’s not as on edge as she has been the past few days. Though, she absolutely keeps throwing up images of Kenwood in my mind. Jolie dressed me tonight, which would usually make me uncomfortable, but for once, I let her take charge and decided to step out of my comfort zone and just go with it. What she calls a “dress” is more a sheet of silver fabric that falls across my front and then wraps low around my hips. It’s strapped together across my shoulders with a spiderweb of silver strings. Gotta give it up to that wolf shifter metabolism…I’m showing a lot of skin, but I know I look good. Despite spending the last couple of days drowning myself in Ben & Jerry’s. She also curled my long red hair into waves and gave me shadowy makeup and full red lips. Looking at myself in the club’s mirrored walls, I feel…well, I blush to admit it, but I feel really sexy. It’s a strange feeling. I’m not sure what I expected when Jolie took me to one of “her” clubs, but this feels nothing like a strip club. In fact, so far every woman dancing on the stages is fully clothed. I look around from my spot in a round corner booth, curious as to where everything else happens. Jolie sits down next to me then, laughing. She waves goodbye to the man she had been talking with, then turns her attention to me. Her eyes are a little glazed. “You having fun, baby Brooklyn?” She gives me a wide, inviting smile. I can’t help but smile back. “Yes,” I say, laughing. “Though I’m curious…where does…all the oth—" Jolie stiffens next to me, and I stop talking. Lena scents fear. I follow Jolie’s gaze. There’s a man standing across the VIP area, his arms crossed, staring at her. When I look, he starts to walk over. Jolie quickly jumps to her feet, reaching out her arms to wrap this big fat potato of a man in a hug. I grimace a little—he looks like he hasn’t showered in a while. Smells a bit like it, too. Definitely human. “Davis!” she says, and I can tell her voice is falsely cheerful. “How you been, gorgeous?” “Jolie,” he says, wrapping his hands around her upper arms and pushing her way from him. “We’ve got to talk.” “Have you met my little sister, Brooklyn?” She gestures towards me with a big smile. “Brooklyn, this is Miguel Davis, an old friend. He’s the manager of the club.” Davis’s eyes rove over me, taking in the generous portion of my thigh exposed by the little dress I’m wearing. I wasn’t uncomfortable before, but now I try to tug it down lower with my fist. Lena growls low inside me at this creep, but I have to keep her leashed. We’re not allowed to shift at all in establishments where humans go. “Um, hello,” I say, hesitant. He takes Jolie by her elbow. “Come on. We’re going to talk around back.” “Okay,” Jolie murmurs, suddenly serious. She leans down to whisper to me. “It’s just work stuff, don’t worry. Plus, wolf versus human. I got this.” I give her a little smile and nod, even though I’m not sure what her wolf can even do for her right now. Between the laws we have to follow and how glazed her eyes are from…whatever she took… Jolie follows Davis into the back. They’re gone for a long time. Anxiously, I run my hand over the underwire of my bra, feeling the tiny switchblade hidden there. The only possession my mother left to me in her will. I tucked it into my bra tonight, just in case. Without the ability to use my razor-sharp claws or my wolf, I like having it with me. I don’t really know how to use it, but it calms me to know that it’s there. Half an hour more and the door opens. My stomach drops. There’s Davis, but where’s my sister? Davis’s eyes catch on me as he starts to move farther out into the club. I see him mouth the word “shit,” and then he walks over to me. “Jolie’s sister, right?” “Yes. Where is she?” “She got sick. She’s just throwing up, but she’s a little green around the gills right now,” he says, gesturing towards his own neck. Alarm bells ring in my head. Wolf shifters don’t just get “get sick.” I stand and turn towards the staff door, intending to go find my sister, but he stops me. “No, listen,” he says. “She won’t want you to see her like this. Come with me, I’ll take you someplace where you can wait more comfortably.” He pulls me forward. I follow him, confused and worried as he pulls me quickly across the club to a black door, pushing it open. The inside is barely lit—a dark room with mirrors on the ceiling and tiny pinpricks of light coming up from the floor. A wide velvet bench wraps itself around the room with little black cocktail tables lined up in front of it. I blink, trying to let my eyes adjust, as Davis settles me into a little table by the door. “Wait here for a bit,” Davis says, looking beyond me. “I’ll have someone bring you a drink. Your sister will be fine soon.” Then, he walks away. Someone does bring me a drink, and I take a sip of it. But then I realize that it’s laced with something. My head starts to spin and I push it away from me. As my eyes adjust, I look around the room and realize that I’m not alone in here. Bodies, mostly in couples, writhe together on the black velvet seating. Some of them are dancing, but some… Well, that girl is on her knees. My eyes go wide as I realize what she is doing. I jump to my feet, blushing and heading for the door. As soon as I reach it, Davis comes back in. “Whoa whoa whoa!” he says, putting up hands to stop me. I shrink in front of him. “Where you going, baby?” He rubs a hand up and down my arm. Instinctively, I jerk my arm away from him. Davis keeps moving towards me, but for every step he takes, I take one backwards. Soon, I feel myself bump into a table behind me. He presses up against me. There’s nowhere else to go. “You’d better be a good girl for me,” Davis whispers, his hot breath on my face. “Or else your sister’s gonna pay. She owes me a lot of money. Tonight, you’re going to work some of it off.” I want to push him away but somehow I lose all my strength now. I’m scared to death, a little whimper escaping my mouth. “Do you mind?” The voice drawls from behind Davis. “That’s my doctor you’re harassing there.” I feel Davis’s weight lift off me as he turns towards the voice. I peer behind him, shocked. I recognize that deep, chocolate tone, and it sends a rush of heat straight between my legs. It can’t be…	LEARN_MORE	https://ysvox.com/kiss/booksAdvPage2/?id=66e3fba7f	Werewolf Fiction Club	https://www.facebook.com/100086297174750/	2,936	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	ysvox.com	VIDEO		https://ysvox.com/kiss/booksAdvPage2/?id=66e3fba7faa92e91eb0b7e71&mode=6&mediaType=fb&px=756695679720479&campaign_id={{campaign.id}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462689826_1064829298683464_2700332989974141624_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Pi1HbAcnDmIQ7kNvgGAULIa&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AXjeWqd04fD4XVXkbDsG0jK&oh=00_AYAsE-QtxdaDmr5vwA_Ex4ZJV886nXvykPFJXf2Z_FgJFQ&oe=6710C217	PERSON_PROFILE	Werewolf Fiction Club	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,154,722	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2154389}'	Yes	2024-10-11 22:12	active	1611		Contest time! Win free coaching for a month. #contest #giveaway #fitness #nutrition #discountcodes	CALL_NOW		About.Face.Fitness	https://www.facebook.com/61566986881536/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Call now		VIDEO			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462801410_397951090035221_2824220157954356231_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=A6LbqPEirK4Q7kNvgEpHCW2&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AgkBjwIjHOCYjjvgBtc9CM-&oh=00_AYC5eas6KriuFJSVuQKzMTRtQVp0OowZRWan7gRCK97lMw&oe=670FCA3F	PERSON_PROFILE	About.Face.Fitness	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,151,005	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2150914}'	Yes	2024-10-11 22:00	active	1610	❤️😍What happens next👉	"Xavier, are you free tonight? I have something to tell you." I mustered up the courage to text my husband, and my hands were a little wet holding the phone. Ten minutes... Half an hour... One hour... There was no reply from the other side. Just like his attitude towards me over the years, indifferent and aloof. I smiled bitterly and threw the phone on the sofa. Then I made dinner as usual and lay quietly on the sofa in the living room waiting for him. I thought he would not come back today. But at twelve o'clock in the early morning, I heard movement at the door. I immediately got up and walked forward, taking his coat and briefcase skillfully . A series of actions, just like an ordinary couple. "Don't text me casually in the future." Xavier's cold voice broke the calm of this moment. My hand hanging my coat trembled, and I murmured, "Okay, I won't do that again." He didn't hear the hidden meaning in my words, and asked me impatiently, "Don't you have something to tell me? What is it?" Even though I was already discouraged, I couldn't help but care about him. I pushed him to the dining table, "Don't worry, drink some stomach-warming soup first." Seeing him sit down steadily and take a sip of the soup, I finally felt relieved and said, "Let's get a divorce." My voice was calm, as calm as if I was talking about today's weather. His deep pupils shrink, "What did you say?" I knew he couldn't believe that I, who had loved him so humbly for so many years, was willing to divorce him. I stared at him straight, "I said let's get a divorce. I know your first love is back, and I decided to let go." "What tricks are you trying to play, Yvette Snyder? Do you want a child or money?" He asked coldly. On my wedding day, my mother and brother took away the large amount of dowry that Xavier paid, violating the terms of mutual benefit between both families. In the past few years, they often forced him to give me a child. I have never had a good image in his heart. "I don't want anything. I just want a divorce from you." I shook my head. Unexpectedly, the usually calm man angrily overturned the table in front of him. With red eyes, he grabbed my wrist fiercely and threw me on the sofa, and his head approached my neck. . .	LEARN_MORE	https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	811	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	thebvhwysgng.com	DCO		https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13092&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/457270151_954156726399654_8659937070073615280_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=uGpuo57H7HQQ7kNvgGmBLai&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ax0lvftnJkW-rxEl8EFgUo7&oh=00_AYDGQaajJ8VSKQTrQPIIJr5m1x7UTpR-cT_3Vk39mPZkrA&oe=670F9B28	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,147,679	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2147683}'	No	2024-10-11 19:57	active	1608	Classic Acid House Vibes		LISTEN_NOW	https://hypeddit.com/ttw7t5/ad-u28ia3-hype-code-3e	DJ Kelly Reverb	https://www.facebook.com/DjKellyReverb/	3,399	1969-12-31 18:00	Listen Now	hypeddit.com	DCO		https://hypeddit.com/ttw7t5/ad-u28ia3-hype-code-3eowy7	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462395388_474101588983794_5308944208311027021_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=hoTDMRjIe_oQ7kNvgGJlI4T&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Al65GHWR-tXXgd9cLEwvgK8&oh=00_AYB1LBYkOFUKfPQNvbvriiBWVnyqUYlCTpgWama8f0d-PA&oe=670F9716	PERSON_PROFILE	DJ Kelly Reverb	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,148,381	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2148380}'	Yes	2024-10-11 19:57	active	1608	14 day Money back guarantee	𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫? I know that 𝒑𝒊𝒕-𝒊𝒏-𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓-𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒄𝒉 feeling when you don't know who, where, or what you are going to teach each day. Casual relief teaching is a tough gig, and conquering the many unknowns takes a lot of skills. Your best antidote is to be PREPARED! You could... 1️⃣ Join teacher subscription sites and print piles of photocopies for each age group and different subjects for "just in case." 2️⃣ Compile a list of activities you hope the students will enjoy for when there is downtime or when the teacher doesn't leave a plan. 3️⃣ Purchase supply teacher resource books that are grade-specific AND require lots of photocopying. OR you could... 💫 Buy Teacher for a Day resources and step confidently into the classroom with: 📚 An all-in-one resource book covering all ages and core subjects 📚 Fun activities students just love 📚 Games and Brain break ideas 📚 Tips and strategies for behaviour management 📚 Workplace tips to help you feel more confident 📚 Organisers and planning templates 📚 Activities that need NO photocopying, NO tech, and NO prep because we know firsthand that getting resources, laptops, or accessing photocopiers isn't a given in all schools 📚 Plus much more! If you'd like to see sample pages and testimonials, head to www.teacherforaday.com/shop and have a squizz! 👀 👩🏻‍🏫 Teacher Testimonials 🗯 "Wow, wow, wow!! If you are a Relief/Supply/Substitute teacher and don't already have this book go and buy it now! Like seriously just do it! You will thank yourself!! -Jessica- 🗯 "I'm a CRT & your TFAD book is my bible! It comes with me to every job." -Kassie- 🗯"I could not manage without your resources. Students love the games, activities and the diversity of learning. Totally different from their regular teachers' teaching activities. You are a life saver and a teachers' best friend." -Margaret- 🗯"I purchased this amazing resource and have utilised it each and every day on class. This resource makes earning my money easy!" -Paige- 🗯 "Amazing resource to have! I've spent hundreds on resources that I lugged around in an actual TROLLEY (the pull kind) for my first few days, then down-graded to a tub that just caused me pain to carry. TFAD has such brilliant no-prep ideas that I can show up with my usual handbag and be ready to go. It's made me much more confident in my own teaching." -Rebecca-	SHOP_NOW	http://www.teacherforaday.com/shop	Teacher for a Day	https://www.facebook.com/teacherforadaycommunity/	15,287	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop Now	teacherforaday.com	DCO	Relief teacher bible	http://www.teacherforaday.com/shop	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/451739457_775565481155177_7733628889696601115_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=wTg4jTuZtscQ7kNvgHgSvmn&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A8TFavdWEsIpecorFvOGBbg&oh=00_AYDpjG5Ux-9iX-OWOaCYSMY2J1y4ck09h99qRNwH5rhXiw&oe=670F9772	PERSON_PROFILE	Teacher for a Day	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,156,127	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2156122}'	No	2024-10-12 18:36	active	1612	Boogie T \| Victory Hall \| Saturday, Oct. 12	YOOO SEATTLE! SEE YOU AT VICTORY HALL THIS SATURDAY 🤘 Grab your tickets now and I’ll see ya there → bssrush.co/boogiet-sea	ORDER_NOW	https://bassrush.frontgatetickets.com/event/wjtp0u	Boogie T	https://www.facebook.com/boogietmusic/	92,891	1969-12-31 18:00	Order Now	bassrush.frontgatetickets.com	DCO		https://bassrush.frontgatetickets.com/event/wjtp0uedkizwiafe	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462606048_383975234810274_5200718918753620923_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=14NbuDoTKV0Q7kNvgF6RxYm&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AjnMACGpNxs-Ro2_M8fmyhr&oh=00_AYDifPDlClNCVtPRSJmHKErxavVhE8YP427_N4yNVoHCcQ&oe=6710E0A5	PERSON_PROFILE	Boogie T	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,156,109	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2156106}'	Yes	2024-10-12 18:36	active	1612			CONTACT_US	https://www.instagram.com/	Leticia Cejeda Chicago Real Estate Broker/Agent at Century21Universal	https://www.facebook.com/LetyCejeda/	274	1969-12-31 18:00	Contact Us	instagram.com	CAROUSEL		https://www.instagram.com/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462688113_1707744380013324_5544636203938096371_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=eebwJc5X6TkQ7kNvgGegzYG&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjnMACGpNxs-Ro2_M8fmyhr&oh=00_AYCy1n_cfU5RzpBNZKIWyzN690VUyJ6izhYYFmq_r8n9LA&oe=6710D007	PERSON_PROFILE	Leticia Cejeda Chicago Real Estate Broker/Agent at Century21Universal	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,150,999	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2150994}'	Yes	2024-10-11 22:00	active	1610	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	In Debra's last life, she loved Juan so much, but everyone knew that the one he cherished was Shelia. After Debra was drained of her last bit of value by Juan, she tragically died on the operating table. Reborn in this life, Debra swears never to repeat the same mistakes, and she will make Juan regret what he has done! "Get the defibrillator! Increase the voltage!" "Doctor! The patient is experiencing massive bleeding, and the A-type blood from the blood bank was just urgently taken away." The intern nurse's hands were covered in blood, and she trembled. The operating room reeked of blood. She had never seen so much blood before. At that moment, a thought flashed through her mind. 'Who would suddenly take away A-type blood from the blood bank?' The woman lying on the bed was pale. Her lips were dry, and her eyes started to lose focus. "Juan..." "What?" "Juan Nichols..." The intern nurse made out the name murmured by Debra Frazier. Juan Nichols was the most influential businessman in Seamar City. The doctor was on the verge of collapse. He dialed the wrong number three times before finally getting it right. He quickly pleaded with the person on the other end of the phone, "Mr. Nichols, your wife is experiencing massive bleeding, but the blood from the blood bank has been taken away. Please, come and see her for the last time." But Juan's voice was filled with indifference. "She's still alive? Call me when she's dead." With that, he hung up the phone. All the light disappeared from Debra's eyes. 'Juan, do you hate me so much? Even at this point, you wouldn't come to see me.' The machine emitted a flat, cold beep, indicating the patient's vital signs had disappeared. Debra felt her soul leaving her body. Her withered, frail body collapsed weakly on the bed. Debra felt exhausted. At just twenty-seven, she died from postpartum hemorrhage in the hospital. In her lifetime, she loved Juan dearly. As the only daughter of the Frazier family, she should have enjoyed the best life. But to marry Juan, she sacrificed herself and her family. In the end, she met a tragic fate. Debra slowly closed her eyes. Given another chance, she would never make the same mistakes. ... "Madam, Mr. Nichols wants to take you to the auction. Which outfit would you like to wear?" Sophie asked. Debra gasped and opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was strikingly familiar. This place was Juan and her home. They had been married for a month, but Juan had rarely visited her. She remembered that Juan was attending a land auction, and due to the occasion, he had to bring his family along. But this was all five years ago. 'How could it be? ' she thought, deeply confused, 'Am I reborn?' "Mr. Nichols has never stayed overnight before. You should seize this opportunity." Sophie’s voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan Miles. Shelia liked white dresses, so she followed suit, just to earn a little favor from Juan. For this auction, Juan didn't inform her of the change in companion and brought Shelia instead, making her look ridiculous in a white dress similar to Shelia's. The thought of the past made her laugh. "No, I'll wear that one," she said, picking up a red dress. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to wear cheap clothes for a man. It only lowered her status and self-esteem. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," Sophie said hesitantly. Debra simply ignored her hints. "I'll wear this one," she said. "Throw away all those white dresses. I don't like them." Sophie sighed and complied. Debra looked at herself in the mirror, still vibrant and beautiful. But in a few years, she would be worn down by Juan's torment. Before that happened, she would end it all. In the evening, Debra appeared in a burgundy dress that accentuated her curves. Her delicate makeup, curls, and a mole under her eye made her mesmerizing. She looked like a painting, untouchable. Not far away, a man in a white shirt and black leather combat boots saw her. With a cigarette dangling from his mouth, Marion Houston asked, "Who is she?" "You don't know her? She's Debra, the daughter of the Frazier family and Juan's wife," said his friend, Randy Osborne. "I just saw Juan entering with another woman. Maybe we'll witness a showdown between the mistress and the wife. It will be fun." Marion made no comments. Randy clicked his tongue. "Juan's taste is just terrible, preferring a skinny woman to his beautiful woman. Don't you think?" Randy turned around, but Marion was nowhere to be seen. "Damn it!" he cursed, quickly catching up with Marion. Shelia, in a white dress, held Juan's arm timidly. "I've never been to such an event before. Maybe I should go back." "You'll get used to it. You'll be attending these events frequently in the future," Juan said. Shelia nodded. Juan was about to enter with Shelia when Joe spoke up. "Sir, won't we wait for Mrs. Nichols?" Juan frowned. "Didn't I ask you to tell her not to come today?" Joe glanced at Shelia, and she quickly said, "It's not Joe's fault. I told him not to inform Debra. With my status, I'm afraid of gossip, so I thought it would be better for Debra to accompany you in." Shelia lowered her head like a scared hare. Juan rubbed his temples. He didn't want Debra to show up at all. "Mr. Nichols," Shelia murmured, biting her lip. "It's alright." Juan patted Shelia's head and said to Joe, "Go intercept her and send her away." In the crowd, there were murmurs of surprise. Joe looked over and was also shocked. "I'm afraid it's too late."	LEARN_MORE	https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	206	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	thebvhwysgng.com	DCO		https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13914&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462143534_1670092790224824_679006321541673997_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=t6DSKwRxSzwQ7kNvgHOlJ-F&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ax0lvftnJkW-rxEl8EFgUo7&oh=00_AYBxRtRI4xE_96hmr535hc5PE4eJ52Acxf2ZElNtk7giUQ&oe=670FBBF7	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,151,019	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2150994}'	Yes	2024-10-11 22:00	active	1610	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	In Debra's last life, she loved Juan so much, but everyone knew that the one he cherished was Shelia. After Debra was drained of her last bit of value by Juan, she tragically died on the operating table. Reborn in this life, Debra swears never to repeat the same mistakes, and she will make Juan regret what he has done! "Get the defibrillator! Increase the voltage!" "Doctor! The patient is experiencing massive bleeding, and the A-type blood from the blood bank was just urgently taken away." The intern nurse's hands were covered in blood, and she trembled. The operating room reeked of blood. She had never seen so much blood before. At that moment, a thought flashed through her mind. 'Who would suddenly take away A-type blood from the blood bank?' The woman lying on the bed was pale. Her lips were dry, and her eyes started to lose focus. "Juan..." "What?" "Juan Nichols..." The intern nurse made out the name murmured by Debra Frazier. Juan Nichols was the most influential businessman in Seamar City. The doctor was on the verge of collapse. He dialed the wrong number three times before finally getting it right. He quickly pleaded with the person on the other end of the phone, "Mr. Nichols, your wife is experiencing massive bleeding, but the blood from the blood bank has been taken away. Please, come and see her for the last time." But Juan's voice was filled with indifference. "She's still alive? Call me when she's dead." With that, he hung up the phone. All the light disappeared from Debra's eyes. 'Juan, do you hate me so much? Even at this point, you wouldn't come to see me.' The machine emitted a flat, cold beep, indicating the patient's vital signs had disappeared. Debra felt her soul leaving her body. Her withered, frail body collapsed weakly on the bed. Debra felt exhausted. At just twenty-seven, she died from postpartum hemorrhage in the hospital. In her lifetime, she loved Juan dearly. As the only daughter of the Frazier family, she should have enjoyed the best life. But to marry Juan, she sacrificed herself and her family. In the end, she met a tragic fate. Debra slowly closed her eyes. Given another chance, she would never make the same mistakes. ... "Madam, Mr. Nichols wants to take you to the auction. Which outfit would you like to wear?" Sophie asked. Debra gasped and opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was strikingly familiar. This place was Juan and her home. They had been married for a month, but Juan had rarely visited her. She remembered that Juan was attending a land auction, and due to the occasion, he had to bring his family along. But this was all five years ago. 'How could it be? ' she thought, deeply confused, 'Am I reborn?' "Mr. Nichols has never stayed overnight before. You should seize this opportunity." Sophie’s voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan Miles. Shelia liked white dresses, so she followed suit, just to earn a little favor from Juan. For this auction, Juan didn't inform her of the change in companion and brought Shelia instead, making her look ridiculous in a white dress similar to Shelia's. The thought of the past made her laugh. "No, I'll wear that one," she said, picking up a red dress. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to wear cheap clothes for a man. It only lowered her status and self-esteem. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," Sophie said hesitantly. Debra simply ignored her hints. "I'll wear this one," she said. "Throw away all those white dresses. I don't like them." Sophie sighed and complied. Debra looked at herself in the mirror, still vibrant and beautiful. But in a few years, she would be worn down by Juan's torment. Before that happened, she would end it all. In the evening, Debra appeared in a burgundy dress that accentuated her curves. Her delicate makeup, curls, and a mole under her eye made her mesmerizing. She looked like a painting, untouchable. Not far away, a man in a white shirt and black leather combat boots saw her. With a cigarette dangling from his mouth, Marion Houston asked, "Who is she?" "You don't know her? She's Debra, the daughter of the Frazier family and Juan's wife," said his friend, Randy Osborne. "I just saw Juan entering with another woman. Maybe we'll witness a showdown between the mistress and the wife. It will be fun." Marion made no comments. Randy clicked his tongue. "Juan's taste is just terrible, preferring a skinny woman to his beautiful woman. Don't you think?" Randy turned around, but Marion was nowhere to be seen. "Damn it!" he cursed, quickly catching up with Marion. Shelia, in a white dress, held Juan's arm timidly. "I've never been to such an event before. Maybe I should go back." "You'll get used to it. You'll be attending these events frequently in the future," Juan said. Shelia nodded. Juan was about to enter with Shelia when Joe spoke up. "Sir, won't we wait for Mrs. Nichols?" Juan frowned. "Didn't I ask you to tell her not to come today?" Joe glanced at Shelia, and she quickly said, "It's not Joe's fault. I told him not to inform Debra. With my status, I'm afraid of gossip, so I thought it would be better for Debra to accompany you in." Shelia lowered her head like a scared hare. Juan rubbed his temples. He didn't want Debra to show up at all. "Mr. Nichols," Shelia murmured, biting her lip. "It's alright." Juan patted Shelia's head and said to Joe, "Go intercept her and send her away." In the crowd, there were murmurs of surprise. Joe looked over and was also shocked. "I'm afraid it's too late."	LEARN_MORE	https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	206	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	thebvhwysgng.com	DCO		https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13914&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462483624_1046414663443486_2784424457317863530_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=X4j_svjftGMQ7kNvgHamZmk&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ax0lvftnJkW-rxEl8EFgUo7&oh=00_AYD0oeLlm_sbRln5uBVQeaW7S9FsYccI6tEVZ-XMCQ-OBw&oe=670F88FB	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,155,742	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2155743}'	Yes	2024-10-12 18:36	active	1612	👉Only $0.99 for all books😍	I’m spreading legs for my father-in-law after I find my fiancé cheat on me… This room screams money, and it's not like I'm poor; I'm just not stupidly rich. Jake isn't yet. Sure, his dad is, but Jake was told until he proves himself, he won't get a penny. Sure, he gets money from his dad every month to live on and such. Yet, nothing else. Even though I know that his dad essentially paid for this ring I am wearing, Jake doesn't work, which means he no doubt had to ask his dad for money for the ring. It's looking like Jake might be getting his inheritance. News of this engagement has made his father see him in a whole new way—not just the engagement, but me, apparently. Dating me has made his son straighten his life out. I'm not sure how I helped. All I am doing is dating him. I didn't even know about his money until I met his dad, so it was a shock when Jake stopped at the house. They continued the conversation. His dad smiled at me and the ring. I'm still processing this. I mean, we've been dating for months, but dating and being engaged are two entirely different games. Jake's father is lovely, though. It's clear he wants the best for Jake but hates his stupidity—that stupidness that I haven't really seen. I knew him before dating him, but not enough to know the real him—the one his father said didn't deserve the money. His dad talks, laughing. I reply and feel Jake’s hand sliding up my leg. My body tenses. Turning, I glare at him. His eyes spark with interest, and he pouts at me. We’re sitting with his dad. “Did it go well then?” Alaric smiles at me from across the table. I nod and smile. “It went amazing Mr Hendrix, I was surprised it went so well.” “Ruby, please call me Alaric. You have been dating Jake for over a year. You don’t need to be so formal.” His words are kind, and I nod. “Anyway, I will let you two kids have your fun and disappear. Enjoy your break. Jake, stay tonight; don’t drive back so late, son.” I watch Alaric stand and leave. I turn to face Jake. Every time he tries to grope me under the table. “Babes, it was nothing. I didn’t even get close to my goal.” He leans forward, his lips finding mine. “Even so, we were sat with your dad!” I don’t feel comfortable doing that. Not when we're in company. “Babes, stop sulking. Let’s get to bed.” He pulls me up, and I follow him. It’s been ages since I slept here. We usually stay at the dorms, but we came late today to tell his dad we’re engaged. When I walk into his room, I smile—it’s exactly how I remember it. Jake wraps his arms around me as he removes my clothes, slowly teasing me with his mouth. Shaking my head, I step back. “Not here, Jake. Your dad is in the next room.” That is just awkward. He sighs and climbs into bed. “You know, you worry too much when it comes to sax. Loosen up, babes!” His words shock me, and he laughs. “Forget it. Sleep.” He rolls over. Maybe I do need to loosen up? Yet, I can’t feel comfortable with him entering me so close to his dad. Waking, I walk down. Alaric turns and smiles at me. “Morning Ruby, Coffee?” Nodding, I smile. “Please, Alaric. I didn’t sleep too well.” My sentence ends with a yawn as if to try and confirm my words are true. “Is my son keeping you awake?” He smiles at me. “Not exactly. My mind wouldn’t quieten down.” I kept repeating Jake’s words over and over. “Ah, well, hopefully you will sleep better tonight when you’re back home.” I nod at him and watch as Jake walks down. “We best leave. Long drive ahead of us.” Jake grabs his jacket. “Okay, call in more often, both of you!” Alaric hugs me. “It’s nice to see you again, Ruby.” We say goodbye and leave. The drive back is quiet. I wonder if his mind is on last night. To him, it was nothing. Sure, the table hid us, but his dad was still right there. It also isn't like his hand was at my knee—it ended up between my thighs. I feel like he's in a mood because I refused to let him enter me. Maybe it is just me, and I do worry too much. Maybe others wouldn't have an issue with it, and it is me? Walking through the door, he grabs me. His kiss becomes forceful as I walk backwards into the bedroom. His hands pull my clothes off as we make our way to my room. My body falls back onto the bed, his lips on mine as he climbs onto me. "We need to be quick babes. I'm late." He pushes his trousers down and thrusts into me. His hips speed up instantly. My moans get louder as I grab him and hear him groaning in pleasure as he thrusts a final time before moving off me. I watch as he gets dressed and walks out of the room. Not even a kiss goodbye. I don't get this. People always rave about sax and talk about how amazing it is. For me, it's just meh. It's something I know I could live without. It's nothing that epic or amazing. If anything, it's boring. 6 Months Later Sitting, I laugh. The slight feeling of being tipsy makes me happy. "He's a grumpy nut!" Bex pushes me so hard that I almost fall off the stool. "Maybe, but he's my grumpy nut!" I laugh and stand, and she pouts at me, sulking. "I'm going. I want to be with Jake when the new year begins. He wasn't feeling great." Hugging her, I walk home. "Ruby, Ruby, Ruby!" I groan and stop at the door turning Ivy dances to me. "I'm glad you're here! I lost my keys." Laughing at her, I unlock the door. "You didn't lose them, Ivy. You never do. They are always inside where you left them." I walk in and go to the side, picking up the keys. I rattle them at her. "See." Laughing, she nods. Walking to the kitchen, I grab a drink and go upstairs, my head shaking at the fact she forgot her keys again. I had told her just before we left, get your keys. Laughing, I push the door open and freeze. "Jake!" I stand shocked and sickened. He turns slightly and looks at me. "Is this her?" The woman who is without clothes and currently wrapped around him laughs, and Jake chuckles. "Get out!" Screaming, I throw my bag at him. "Calm it, Ruby!" Jake screams at me. I watch the woman grab her clothes and rush out. "How could you?" Screaming, I take off a shoe and throw it at him. "Because you're boring! God, woman, you're soo stiff." His words are screamed into my face as he laughs. "You were a means to an end, I wanted my inheritance, and you helped me to get it!" My body freezes. "Did you ever actually like me?" Was this all a way to get the money? "Yes! Then I got bored, but I could see my dad thought this was the real deal. He seemed to think you were fixing me, so I played for a bit until he signed my money over. You can't complain; you got to date and sleep with me. Someone every woman wants." My hand swings, and I punch him. "Screw you!" I fight back the tears and push him away from me. "No thanks, there's more action in a board game. Want some advice? Stop being a prude." He turns and storms out. My body falls to the floor. Over a year he used me for over a year to get money? "Ruby." Turning, I look at Ivy and fight back the tears. "He's the sort who will die alone. With money, but no woman will be there." She moves and hugs me. "God, I'm a fool! What's wrong with me?" Sitting, I cry, and her arms stay wrapped around me, trying to comfort me. Chapter 2 The List It's been a month since I saw Jake with that woman. I spend it hiding away. Other than studying, I don't leave. I know everyone is talking. Jake's latest bit I caught him with has made it known why he walked. Everyone knows, and everyone is talking about me like I'm a nun. "Do something!" Bex shouts at me. "Like what?" Nothing I do will bring Jake back. "Prove the guy wrong, get people talking about you and how much you do. Write a sax list." I laugh at her words. "What is a sax list?" Rolling her eyes at me, she laughs. "It's a list of things you need to do or try. It revolves mostly around sax. Things like visiting a sax shop, having a one-night stand, and making a sax video. There are loads. Prove you're not what he says." She turns and walks out. It could be fun, and right now, I have nothing to lose—not when everyone says I'm a nun. I grab a pen and notebook and sit. My eyes look over the blank paper. My mind comes up blank as I sit and consider. Visit a sax shop Watch a video Use a toy Kiss a random guy Kiss a woman Take pole dancing lessons Do a saxy photoshoot Dance at an adult club Buy saxy lingerie Have a night with three Visit a special club I keep going, and by the time I'm finished, the list is two pages long. Looking through it, I decided now that I should get started. I need to do something. Grabbing the laptop, I open it and load up a special site. This seems like a good starting place. This is out of my element. Scrolling through, I stop at a video. I watch it, and shaking my head, I quickly close that video. That was too much too soon. Clicking on another, I begin watching it. I'm astounded—she looks like she's enjoying it a lot. So why don't I feel pleasure like that? I lose myself in the video, soon finding myself watching more after it, and the night disappears. Some of the videos do really make me feel like a prude. Today has gone quickly. Class has ended, and I'm determined to cross another item off the list. Parking the car, I walk to the shop. Standing outside, I look at the store. Sucking in a breath, I push the door open and walk in. I begin to look around. My hand trails over the leather lingerie. Picking up a set, I carry it with me as I continue to look through the lingerie and make my way towards the sax toys. I stop at them and glance around. Now what? My hand reaches out blindly and grabs three different ones. I've no idea what they are, but I'm not about to read the boxes in the shop. Walking towards the till to pay, I stop. My eyes see the items. I grab a pair of handcuffs and a flogger and continue to the till. I place the items down. I watch as she picks each item up and scans them all before I pay, and she hands me the bag. Getting into the car, I laugh. I did it. What did I buy? I laugh, knowing that maybe I should have done research before. When I get home, I place the items in the drawer next to my bed. They are items I have to use. Otherwise, why visit a shop and buy them? "We're going out!" Bex and Ivy burst into my room. "Oh my God!" Bex runs over and pulls the items out. "You made a list!" She squeals and hugs me. "Okay, calm down. Anyway, I'm not going out." He will be there with her. "Yes, you really are! Don't let him push you into hiding. That confirms his words. It's been a month. Get on a beautiful dress, now." Ivy drags me up from the bed. "Fine!" Walking over, I look through the clothes. "No! You're wearing this." Bex holds out a dress, and my eyes widen. "Is that even legal?" I stare at it; it's short, and most of it is see-through. "Very, get it on. Look, you don't want him back. Screw him, not literally, as that's not allowed! Show him what he's missing. You might be a prude, but he can't enter you for good." I laugh at her words. "What? I've heard you two. He doesn't hit the spot. Come on." Ivy bounces around me. "Okay, give me ten minutes." I grab the dress and go to the bathroom to get ready. Walking out, they are waiting. "Oh yeah, he never saw you in anything like this. Make him bleed." I laugh at Bex. "That's if he's there, we're going to Rainbow Horse." That's a gay bar. Jake does go there, not often, but still, there's a chance he is there, which makes me want to refuse. The bar is full; Bex and Ivy have pretty much been pouring the shots down my throat. I won't complain, though, as I'm laughing and enjoying the night. Standing on the dance floor with them, my body moves to the music. I'm glad I decided to come out. They were right I do feel better already. My body stops when I see him and her together. They are staring towards me and laughing. "Don't. You do not let him and that evil excuse of a woman run you out and stop having fun. Turn your back to them and dance." Bex pulls me so I'm no longer facing them. It wouldn't be as bad if he wasn't talking about me and saying something. I see Oliver dancing, and I smile toward him. "While dancing, move me closer to Oliver." This will stop Jake from staring at me. Bex and Ivy nod but look at me, confused. We dance, and as we do, they keep moving toward him. Dancing beside him, he notices me and glances down. "Ruby, didn't expect to see you out tonight." He smiles slightly and stops dancing. "Am I not allowed to have fun like the rest of you?" He chuckles at my words. "I didn't think you 'did' fun." "Because Jake said so, right?" He nods, and I continue to dance. "Indulge me, won't you Oliver and go along with me?" He peers at me, confused. His eyes stay fixed on mine, am I really about to do this? Doubt creeps in, and I feel someone push me forward, my lips pressing against his. The feel of his hand slipping around my waist makes me smile as I continue to kiss Jake's best friend. His hands hold me closer as I finally break away from the kiss. "What was that?" He stares at me. "Oh, just some fun. Thanks for letting me borrow your mouth for a few seconds." Turning, I walk towards Bex and Ivy. "Erm." Bex laughs. "I gave you a nudge but didn't think you would actually stick your tongue in his mouth." "It worked, Jake is pissed." Ivy laughs, and I glance over, seeing him glaring at me. I give a little wave and turn away from him. "You realise you never do that, right? The whole kissing someone, random people. You date, that's it." Ivy continues to laugh. "I changed my mind; dating got me nowhere. I might test-ride all his friends." They both laugh, but I'm being serious. We stay for a short while longer before making our way home. Getting in, I walk into my room and stop. "What are you doing here?" I stare at Jake. "I left my watch. I was just getting it." He holds it up. Laughing, my head shakes. "You had it on tonight. Why are you here in my room?" I stare at him as he stays sitting on the bed, his eyes falling to the items on the bed. I forgot Bex had pulled them out of the drawer. "Why do you have these?" He picks up the handcuffs. "Jake, you need to leave." Why is he here? "Look, you wanted my attention, and you got it. It was a good idea to use Oliver. I'm here, so let's have fun." I laugh. "Come on, Ruby. You wanted to play, so let's play." "Jake, I wanted to play with Oliver, not you. I did play with him. Now leave." He sits, shocked. "You're joking." "No, get out of my room!" My words are screamed, and I see Bex appear at the door. "Fine." His words are almost growled as he storms out. Bex laughs before leaving. What was I ever doing with that guy? Chapter 3 Lessons The week has passed by quickly; I get lost in studying. I've signed up for dancing lessons, though. Two nights a week, I will do pole dancing, and another two nights a week, I will practice lap dances. I have to admit I had fun with Bex and Ivy that night once I let go of my fears. Pulling on the boots, I stand, and Bex walks in, her eyes widening. "Why are you wearing those heels?" I laugh at her words. "I'm serious. Are you going out?" "I'm doing pole dancing lessons. It's the first one tonight. I figured I would wear heels and learn while wearing them." "I'm coming!" she runs out of the room. I laugh, walk to her room, and watch her get ready. "I always wanted to learn, so I'm coming. Why pole dancing?" She turns and looks at me as she fastens her shoes. "I have a slot in a few weeks dancing in a club." Her hands stop, and she looks at me. "Yes, I'm being serious." I laugh and watch her fasten her shoe. "You're going to dance in a club?" "Yes, I visited this week. It looked amazing. The women looked happy. It's a thrill, so yes, I am going to be dancing half-bare on a pole." "I think I need to make a list for myself! It sounds like you're having all the fun," she says, laughing, and we leave together. Getting to the building, we go in, and to be fair, it's harder than it looked. Still, I slowly get the hang of it and begin to enjoy myself. While I am, Bex is falling over and laughing. I honestly think she might be drunk. Walking over, I pick her up off the floor. "Sorry, but I can't do it. My body is like... no way...keep our feet on the ground." She laughs, and I nod. "You were doing well, though." Her grin widens, and we begin to leave. "Thanks; by any chance, do you know Boudoir Bunny?" She stops mid-step and turns to me. "Yes, why are you asking?" "Because I plan to visit tomorrow night." Her mouth falls open. "Do you know what it is?" She looks at me now. "I do. I read up on it, checked it out online, and spoke to someone else who goes there. I'm not planning to do anything there; I just want to go and see what it's like." "To see what it's like? It's a bandage club, like a full-on sax club. With private rooms and something else." She laughs, and I nod. "Which, you know, and you're still going?" "I'm not going in the rooms. I will be staying in the communal areas." "Can I join you?" I laugh slightly. "You were just looking at me like I'm crazy, Bex." "Yeah, but I still want to go. I've always wanted to, but I'm not about to walk into a sax club all on my own." I laugh and nod. "Then come with me. Do you have a suitable outfit?" She can't go in her usual clothes. "Not for that place, so let's go shopping." We leave together, and I go to the shop. This is twice now I've been in a sax shop. I look through the different outfits, a lot are leather, PVC or rubber. Grabbing the mask, I smile. "You're going to be a kitty?" Bex looks at me. "Yes!" I hold up the outfit, which is actually more like lingerie. She laughs and holds up her outfit. She has a bunny mask. "I have the perfect pair of shoes as well to go with it." Paying, we leave and go home. Standing in the room, I begin to go through everything. I can't find my shoes! "Bex! Ivy!" I watch them walk in. "Please say you have seen my black shoes, the ones with a metal heel." I need those; they will go with the outfit. "You had them on when you last visited Jake's dad." Ivy smiles at me. "No way!" "Just wear something else." Ivy smiles at me. "No! I had the outfit planned in my mind. I need those shoes." "Then ask Jake to get them." Sighing, I reach for my phone. I need the stuff I left at your dad's from when I stayed, please, like now, if possible. I hit send on the message and sat on the bed. I began to look through my phone. The dating app is relatively hilarious; some of the chat-up lines have me laughing. My phone vibrates, and I see Jake's name. Hitting the message, it shows up. It's your stuff. Get it yourself, or just leave it there for when I next go down with whoever I'm dating. I'm sure they will appreciate it. Screaming, I throw the things off my bed, and Bex walks in with Ivy. "Well?" "I've to get it myself or leave it there for his next woman to use." Their eyes widen. "I would say leave it, buy new, but that's awuful. Go get it." Bex smiles at me. "That means leaving early. The club is two hours away, so I need to go in the morning, get there, get my stuff, drive back, get ready, and then leave again." Maybe I should just wear different shoes. "Then don't wear those shoes." Bex shrugs, but I had it planned in my mind and I hate now following through. "No, I'm getting my stuff on the off chance he takes a woman there before I do, and she wears it." They nod and leave. Lying down, I fall asleep. Stopping outside the house, I hit the button and waited; I slept in. So I had to get ready for tonight and wear the outfit under my dress. "Yes?" I turn to the intercom. He will be working, but I know where the spare key is. "Hi, Alaric, it's Ruby. If possible, I need to grab the things that I left here." "You don't need to ask." The intercom turns off, and the gates open. Driving in, I get out and walk up the steps. I stop noticing that the pot has moved. Turning, I see it. Leaning over, I lift it and look for the key; it's not here. "Ahm." I stand and turn, Alaric is stating right where my hip was bent over. "Sorry, I thought you would be at work. I was going to let myself in." Maybe I should have knocked first. "No worries. Can I get you a drink?" He walks in, and I follow. "Erm..." He's smiling at me, he doesn't know. "Is everything okay?" He grabs a glass, and I nod. "Drink?" I nod at him, I thought Jake would have told him this was over? Now I feel more awkward than before, knowing I have to tell him. He holds out the glass, and I take it. "Thanks, Aleric." "You're welcome. Why isn't Jake here?" I lick my lip. Panic builds within me, but I bite it back. "Ruby? Where the fuck is your ring?" "We're over, I'm sorry I thought he would have told you. I wouldn't have come if I knew he hadn't. I just need my things." "What do you mean it's over? What happened?" Fighting back tears, my head shakes. "It doesn't matter." "It does. You're almost crying. What happened?" He stands waiting. "I found him with some other woman in my room." He stills at my words. "He used me to convince you he had settled down so you would give him the money." "He proposed though." "To make it more real," his eyes widen. "Can I use the bathroom, please?" I need to avoid his questions. "Ruby, you don't need to ask, but when you're done, we'll talk about this." I nod, quickly throw my bag on the side, and rush through. As I entered the bathroom, I locked the door. I thought he would have known. I never expected to get here and have to tell him about his own son's recklessness and dirty behaviour. Apparently, though, I have to. Jake is hiding the fact that we split, which makes no sense at all. Why hide it? Chapter 4 His Disapproval As I walk back through, he stands waiting. I go to walk around the unit, and he stops me. "What is going on? You're not telling me everything. You're avoiding talking to me. Why?" "There's nothing to tell. I found him with another woman." "And..." He stands waiting. "And we split up." I shrug. "Talk me through what happened and what he said." He looks at me, waiting. "New years, I went back early to spend it with him, I found him in my room with a woman. I screamed at him, the woman asked if I was her, and laughed." His eyes widen. "I told them to get out, he told me to calm it and I asked how he could it to me. He called me boring but explained he could see that you were falling for the fact he was with me, so he played for a bit until he got the money." He doesn't reply; he just stands shocked. "Then he told me I should be happy, I got to sleep and date him. Someone with money that every woman wants. I hit him, and he said there was more action in a board game." Now he knows I can get my stuff and leave. "Ruby, I'm sorry." He stares at me. "This is my fault. He was going from woman to woman, partying and blowing money on nothing. You started dating him, and he seemed to settle slightly. I mentioned the money; I didn't think he would use you just to get the money." "It's not your fault. You know now, but I need to get my things." I turn, and he stops me. "Don't you listen to him, to his words. What he said is wrong, he was cruel, and I'm sorry." I shrug but don't reply. "Ruby, why are you listening to his words and letting that change you?" "I'm not." My words are quiet, and his head tilts. "Okay, maybe I am. Something must make him think that, so somewhere inside, I'm boring. I'm not sure if it's a fact I wouldn't let him grope me under the table while you were here or that fact I refused to let him enter me here with you in the other room that made him see me as boring, or maybe it's because I really am!" His body stills as I shout. There has to be some truth to his words. "I wouldn't have believed him so much if he didn't tell others, and then those people start saying nonsense. Everyone knows, he told everyone." I can't go into class without people staring at me and talking. "Ruby, come here." I look at him and shake my head. His hand grips mine, and he pulls me in front of him. He turns me so my back is against him. "What is this?" He taps the side, and I glance down. Oh, my list. I go to say I don't know when he speaks. "It fell out of your bag. You threw it down with that much force." He chuckles and waits. "It was something to help me experience more, stop being a prude, and prove everyone wrong." He sighs and grabs a pen, placing it next to the paper. His hands grip the counter next to me. "Pick up the pen," he says, his breath washes over my neck. Reaching down, I get it. "Cross off number eight." "W-what?" "Cross of number eight. The list is a good idea, but number eight is a risk. Not only that, but you're not selling your body. You gain nothing from it." "I want to." It will help. It's different. "No, you don't. Women dance there for money, and many are tortured behind the scenes. If you want a list, fine, but make it safe. Cross it out." Nodding, I cross out the dancing in an adult club. "Number ten, cross it out." "Why?" What is wrong with a three ? "You don't even have a partner, so you're planning to have a three with two strangers? That's putting yourself at risk. Remove it." Nodding, I cross it out. "Number fifteen as well." "People do it all the time." What is wrong with a one-night stand? "You didn't have them for a reason. Because you know you're worth more than a night, don't forget your values and morals. Remove it." Biting my lips, I scratch it out. "Also, number sixteen. Before you ask, that's safer and better if you have a partner, not a random guy." I cross out the sax in public. "Number nineteen." "What?" What is wrong with trying bandage during sax? "You don't have a partner. Are you really going to let a stranger, a one-night stand, tie you up? You're putting yourself at risk." I didn't consider that. Maybe there is a lot on here that shouldn't be, as I can't do it alone or with a total stranger I don't trust. I cross it out, move down the list, and begin crossing off some other things. "Good girl," he whispers into my ear. I relax, putting down the pen. He was right; some of them are putting me at risk. "Now, let's talk about the last few." He turns over the paper. "Explain why you would have that on a list?" "Erm..." I swallow hard. "Ruby, why would you have those on the list when it's a list of things you hadn't done or ever tried?" I bite my lip, and he keeps me encased between his body and the kitchen island. "My parents were very religious and strict. Anyone before Jake was fun, and well, those are still things I haven't done or experienced." I feel his body turn to ice, his hand grips my chin, and he turns my head to see me. "Are you joking?" I try and shake my head but fail. "Ruby, for years, you were dating and sleeping. Are you telling me you've never reach high, and he never enter you with his mouth?" His words cause my body to shake, and my head moves from side to side. "I never really enjoyed sax," it's the truth, which is why I was happy to quickly say no when Jake tried for sax. "I want to fix the last two issues on your list." My body shakes and explodes with pleasure. God... "You should tell me no, Ruby, you're young enough to be my daughter." "I..." I want to tell him no, but just the way he's stood has my body wanting him. It's something I've never felt before. He's waiting for my answer, he's right, I am young enough to be his daughter. I also know if I walk out and say no to him, I might just regret it. "Maybe because you're old enough to be, I should call you Daddy?" He spins me to face him, and his hand slides along my leg. "Remove them." His finger strokes omy sax over my underwear. Crap, I didn't consider that. I'm wearing a one-piece leather corset. "I said remove them. I can't do it while you're covered." Nodding, I lift the dress, and his eyes widen. He swears under his breath. "Ruby, why did you come here wearing this?" He stands waiting. "I'm going out after. I wouldn't have time to go back and change. I needed the shoes to go with it." My words are quiet. "In this? Turn." I turn so my back is against him, and he swears louder. His hands grasp against the globe of my hips. "Your whole hip is on show. And you're wearing it out?" I nod at his words. "It's appropriate for where I'm going." Very appropriate. "Take it off." Nodding at his words, I unclick it around my neck. Moving and pushing it down my body until it falls to the floor. I stay facing away from him, but I can feel his eyes burning through my body. We don't move or speak. I don't want to speak. I don't want to consider this too much. There's a chance if I do, or even if he does, we will stop and realise how crazy it is. His hands stroke down my sides, causing my body to quake. Stopping at my hips, he turns me before lifting me onto the kitchen side. "Say no, Ruby." His eyes go from mine down my body. I push my legs wider. Book ID: 【4576】 Book Title: Your Dad's Perfect	LEARN_MORE	https://image.noveltells.net/landing-page/h5-495.h	Book Collections	https://www.facebook.com/Novellink2022/	662	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	image.noveltells.net	IMAGE		https://image.noveltells.net/landing-page/h5-495.html?id=495&yy_appname=Novelink&badid={{ad.id}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462692377_906622221344233_4151429549983284475_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6458I8G_ozwQ7kNvgEeEh0o&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AYePca24jdLURXSoPzAWKS6&oh=00_AYCFmXr_YbXE2bu2aMKx1L2sWtKtSiJTxceMIh1FFPl0Jg&oe=6710D326	PERSON_PROFILE	Book Collections	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,150,974	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2150894}'	Yes	2024-10-11 22:00	active	1610	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/	20	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449688956_1121940968889821_4588828897944407849_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5VLpEPnaNlkQ7kNvgFu8kug&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ATXhR-B7ZqVHX2QRG73XJ2z&oh=00_AYAc4lLsNVwG5qUDco9SGR4gzF-5T15eMmnOHIG3RIUaeQ&oe=670F953B	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,155,893	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2155317}'	No	2024-10-12 18:36	active	1612	Want more chapter?🔞👉	“You’re soaked,” Alpha Aden groans, kneeling between my legs. My wolf is clawing and clawing at me, desperate for his touch. But I can’t… Because he’s my boyfriend’s father. * I’d just about given up hope on ever feeling my heat. By the time most she-wolves were my age, they’d already settled down and had at least one pup. Instead, I felt like I was dead inside until I met Hudson a few months ago. He ignites a spark in me, something I think could be more. My love life is looking up, and I think I’m finally ready to take the next step. Not just because things were…awakened…today. But because Hudson is perfect. He’s sexy, thoughtful, attentive…. We can talk for hours about the books we love. And when I said I didn’t want to go too far too fast, he was okay with that. He’s never pushed for more than kissing. When I told him I wasn’t ready to have sex yet, he was okay and didn’t try to make me feel guilty. It made me like him even more. Today…today I’m ready. And I’m going to tell him. I take a sip of my cappuccino as I look at him. Goddess, he’s handsome. Tall and muscular but not too bulky, and I love how his curly chestnut hair falls into his green eyes. Hudson catches me staring at him as he reads, looking up and flashing me that sexy, playful grin of his. He sticks a receipt between the pages to mark his place, sets the book beside him on the couch, and then shifts his body to turn toward me. “Whatcha thinkin’, lovely?” My cheeks flush. “Do you really want to know?” “Always,” Hudson replies, placing a warm hand on my leg right above my knee. “I think I’m ready.” All of the air leaves my lungs as I finally say the words. Hudson’s eyes widen, and his fingers tighten on my leg. Before he can answer, movement over his shoulder catches my eye. One of the biggest dudes I’ve ever seen is standing at the end of a row of books, staring at us. Intently. He looks…scary. There’s something about him that dings my radar, even though I’m used to seeing criminals in the prison. He’s well over six feet tall, and his professional suit does nothing to disguise how bulky he is. My eyes are drawn to the cruel scar that runs diagonally over his face, almost splitting his nose in two. I sniff the air. Definitely a wolf shifter, too. So how does he have a scar like that? I can’t fathom what would have happened to permanently mark him like that. A shudder runs through me at the thought. “Hudson… There’s…a guy over there. And he’s staring right at us,” I say quietly. Hudson turns to look directly at the brawny guy, and I want to sink into the floor when the guy starts walking toward us. “Don’t worry about him,” Hudson answers, frustration in his voice. “Hudson, he’s looking right at—” “He’s with me. That’s Preston. He’s…my bodyguard.” Hudson shoots a glare at the huge guy, his brow furrowing. The guys stops walking toward us. “He usually does a better job of keeping out of sight.” Wait, what? He needs a bodyguard? My eyes go to the fancy watch he’s wearing today. I’d always assumed it was a knock-off, but now I’m not so sure… The questions are stacking up, and my wolf is on edge. What else is Hudson hiding? And why has none of this ever come up before on our dates? More importantly, how did I miss all of this? I’m a trained professional. Reading people and evaluating them is literally my job right now. If I can’t even read my own boyfriend, how will I ever succeed in my chosen profession. My stomach twists. “Just ignore him. My dad gets overprotective.” Hudson rolls his eyes. “Honestly, he’s so stressed out about safety that he could use a shrink like you to give him some counseling.” He laughs, then winks at me playfully. I can tell the conversation is over and I’m not going to get anything else out of him. “Anytime,” I mutter, nervously playing with my long red hair, worrying about the mismatch between Hudson’s apparent wealth and my poor grad student status. I’ve never met anyone who has a bodyguard. “Can I get you anything else?” Hudson and I look up at the barista smiling down at us, a handsome blond-haired guy with an apron tied around his waist. The guy’s timing couldn’t be worse. “No thanks, Chase,” I say, giving him a big grin at the same time Hudson smiles and says, “Can we both get refills?” “Oh, actually…” I look up at the clock and push my hair back behind my ears. If I don’t leave now, I’m going to be late for my job doing psych evaluations at the state prison. “She’ll take hers to go then,” Hudson says, rising from our sofa. He follows Chase back to the coffee counter to grab our drinks. I start to pack up my bag so I can grab the next train, when I notice Hudson’s phone vibrating on the table. When the number disappears, his home screen shows a family photo. The tall man in the back is certainly his dad, the other maybe an older brother? As I’m staring at the picture, the phone rings again—the same number. Must be important. I grab the phone and sling my bag over my shoulder, heading towards the coffee counter. But there’s no one here. I look around, confused. I definitely just saw Chase and Hudson head this way… There’s a noise from the back room, a strange and muffled thump and a moan. I take two steps forward and peek around the door. Maybe they both— Oh my god. Not two feet from me, my boyfriend presses Chase up against the wall of the storage room. One fist is wrapped in the fabric of Chase’s shirt, the other down Chase’s pants. He’s kissing him passionately, hungrily. Chase’s eyes are closed, his hands fumbling at the button and zipper of Hudson’s pants—whispering my boyfriend’s name. My heart stops for a few seconds as I stare at the scene in front of me. Then, rage takes over—masking the hurt starting to unfurl in my chest. “Are you kidding me!?” I’m not even thinking as I chuck the phone at Hudson and his lover. The guys jump, leaping apart. “Brooklyn— I—” Hudson’s face is full of shock. Tears in my eyes, I run from the room and from the coffee shop. “Brooklyn!” Hudson spills out onto the street behind me. “You don’t understand!” He grabs my arm, pulling me back to him. If ever I forgot he was a male wolf more powerful than me, I’m reminded of his strength now. “I really like you,” he says, his eyes filled with apology. “You’re amazing… It’s just that my family wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t approve—” He scrubs a hand over his face. “You know how some wolves are about this kind of thing. How some packs are. This…me and Chase… It’s complicated.” “So, what? You just want me to be your pretend girlfriend!?” I rip my arm from his hand. “Not interested.” “Please. I can make this right! How much do you want? One million? Three million?” He pulls out his phone, and I see him tap on a banking app. “I don’t want your money.” Hudson blinks in confusion, and I turn away. “I’ll keep your secret, and you don’t need to pay me off. I just don’t want to see you again.” Just like that, my possible fairy tale with Prince Charming was over. I hurry down the street, my eyes filling with angry tears. My wolf, Lena, is struggling to take over. She wants to go back and tear Hudson to shreds. His bodyguard would probably keep that from happening, though. But a girl can dream. I manage to make it on the train in time, sinking onto the bench and closing my eyes. My head falls back to rest against the window, and I take deep, calming breaths to re-center myself. Today couldn’t have gone any worse. No wonder I’m still a virgin…my instincts were so off that I’ve been dating a gay man. Nope. Not gonna wallow. Lena chuffs in agreement. * Two hours later, I’m seated at a plastic table in a cinder-block cell, my hands are resting on my paperwork in front of me, and my hair is tied back in what I hope is a professional look. My leg jitters with nerves. I need to shift, to run off this excess energy, these raging emotions. But I straighten up in my seat, taking a deep breath. I have to concentrate on my job now, and I’m incredibly tense about my next assignment. I’ve only been assigned basic white-collar criminals thus far. Some human, some wolf, none of them dangerous. But today I have to make an assessment of Aden Kenwood. He’s not just a formidable wolf; he’s a mafia king, too. His unmatched cruelty and the unbelievable lengths he’ll go to in order to protect his power are infamous in Grayling City. As a psychology grad student working on my real-life work assignments here at the prison, they typically assign me all of the easy psych evals. But the guy who handles the werewolf inmate evals is out today, and everyone else on staff is human. The last thing they are going to do is put a human in the room with such a notorious and dangerous wolf shifter. So…I’m up to bat. And the incident with Hudson? Not helping my nerves one bit. The hallway door clangs open, and I quickly stand, pulling down on the hem of my blazer to straighten it. This is by far the most nervous I’ve been since I started this gig. The guards bring Kenwood around the corner, and I’m surprised. I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting, but I wasn’t expecting this. He looks nothing like what I could have ever pictured. This man is muscular and tall, moving with a kind of dangerous grace. My eyes follow the way his shoulders shift beneath the fabric of his orange prison uniform, the way that the guards flinch a little as they unlock the silver cuffs on his wrists. This is one powerful wolf shifter. No doubt about it. I can see why everyone fears him. His mere presence ignites something in me I’ve never felt before, and I have to squeeze my thighs together to quell the rush of desire between my legs. I stifle a gasp as my eyes finally fall on Kenwood’s face and take him in, my mouth going dry. His dark hair falling over his forehead, his square jaw, the deep frown lines etched over green eyes… Oh goddess. Is this what a she-wolf’s heat feels like? I gasp as my eyes finally fall on Kenwood’s face and take him in, my mouth going dry. His dark hair falling over his forehead, his square jaw, the deep frown lines etched over green eyes… Oh my god. I’ve seen this man before. I saw him today—on my boyfriend’s phone. And I’ve seen a younger version of him etched in the features of my boyfriend’s face. Hudson isn’t just some rich kid. He’s the son of the mafia king. Aden I follow the guards to a cinder-block cell at the end of the hallway, noting that my lawyer is standing outside the door. He rolls his eyes at me and points at his watch, indicating that he’ll have me out of here in no time. I nod, then focus my attention on the door. I’m surprised to see a girl. No, not a girl. A young woman—twenty-three, at the most. She stands up, clearly anxious, biting her lip and playing with the long red ponytail that drifts over her shoulder. Her mouth falls open, just slightly, as she takes me in. God dammit. My body tenses at the sight of her—those long legs, knocked at the knees with anxiety, her short white skirt, that ridiculous blazer that she wears so people like me will take her seriously. If my wrists weren’t bound in silver, my canines would be dropping right now, my wolf anxious for a taste of her. I can tell from a single glance that she’s pure as the driven snow—ambitious but poor, eager to prove herself. My eyes rove over her… What would she look like if I ripped that unflattering blazer off her? I focus again on those red lips, slightly parted. My breath hisses from my mouth at the sight of those lips, at the thought of what I could do with them—of what I could make them do to me. There’s a low rumble in my chest as I hold back my growl, and my pants tighten as I get hard. “Um,” she says, hesitant. I snap my attention back to her jewel-blue eyes. “My name is Brooklyn Knox? I’m here to do your preliminary interview for state psychological assessment?” I grit my teeth, denying the urge to smile slowly at the fact that her statements are presented as questions. God, she’s perfect, this little angel. The feral, leashed part of me wants to know what she’d look like with a little bit of the underworld’s grime smeared all over her. I want to ruin her, put her on her knees for me. I want to own her in every way imaginable, destroy her for any other man. They don’t call me a monster for nothing. “Hello, Brooklyn,” I say, my voice low and hungry as I move forward and settle into the chair across from her. “Where do we begin?”Brooklyn I hesitate, settling down in my chair across from Aden. He’s all feral wolf, and instead of feeling like the strong she-wolf I am, I feel like a doe waiting to feel his teeth sink into my neck for the kill. His wolf flares in his eyes as he stares at me, almost as if he could leap across the table at any moment and gobble me up. Images flash through my mind of my skirt hiked up around my waist while Aden Kenwood buries his face between my thighs, literally gobbling me up… I give myself a mental shake. Nope. This is Hudson’s father—mafia king, powerful shifter, and bad, bad news. That’s why Hudson has a bodyguard, that’s why he has so much money. I quirk my head to the side, still staring at Kenwood, realizing that this is also why Hudson is hiding his sexuality. Many of the powerful wolf packs and crimes families in Grayling City are notoriously conservative, and family is everything. A gay son would never be accepted in some packs—especially a son that is expected to provide an heir. I can’t imagine being Hudson…having to hide who I loved, pretending to love someone else. Pulling myself back to the here and now, I realize that the man in front of me is smiling, just slightly, his eyes moving over me as I stare at him like a deer in the headlights. My body’s response to him, thinking about his head buried between my legs…there’s no way he doesn’t smell how turned on I am. I clench my jaw, reminding myself that he is the villain. No matter how much of a traitor my wolf and my body are right now. There is NO way I’m feeling my heat for this man. Not at all. “So.” I turn back to my papers, nervously swallowing. You’ve done this a thousand times, Brooklyn! I remind myself. You could do this in your sleep! “Can you please state your name and place of birth?” I ask, trying to regain control of the assessment. “I believe,” Kenwood says slowly, “that you’re already aware of my history.” He leans back, studying me. I lift my eyes to glare at his boldness—he’s so rude. But, unfortunately, he’s right. Everyone in Grayling City knows this information. I quickly fill out the form. I glance up at him, struck once again by the grim, lethal quality to his face. Aden Kenwood is all jagged edges and rough shards…and some dark part of me wants to cut my teeth on them. I drag my gaze away from him, feeling a shiver pass through me, tapping its fingers down my spine. Somehow, I imagine that they’re Aden’s fingers… I quickly dismiss the thought and try to focus on what I’m supposed to be doing. My wolf, Lena, whines at me, and I shush her. I’m so off-kilter that I actually have to look down and read the words I’d long ago memorized. “The rest of the questions that I ask you today will be of a personal and psychological nature,” I say, giving the canned speech I’m required to say to all inmates. “The state does require that you answer all questions fully and honestly as part of the assessment. Do you understand?” Aden is silent in response, and I look up at him, a knee-jerk reaction to an unresponsive patient. He’s smirking at me, unblinking. “Little girl,” he says, slowly leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “what gives you the right to ask me anything about my history and my mind?” I sit straight in my chair, unnerved by such a question. “The state has hired me to administer these examinations—” “Do you have a degree?” he cuts in. “Some kind of…certificate?” The final word is heavy with derision. I frown at him and reach down to rifle through my bag, producing the certified paperwork from the state that qualifies me for this position. “Here. If you’re so curious.” I reach across the table to hand it to him. A second before he grabs my wrist, I realize my mistake. He snatches my hand, fully capturing it in his, pulling me forward against the table, careful not to let the silver binding his wrists touch my skin. It doesn’t quite hurt, but, surprised, I drop the paperwork as I gasp, looking up at him. I’m terrified as he brings my hand close to his face, and then— Oh my goddess— Slowly, indulgently, he runs his nose across the ivory skin of my wrist. “Chamomile, lavender,” he murmurs, closing his eyes, taking in my scent. “So fresh and clean…untainted by the scent of another wolf.” Then he opens his eyes and stares into my bewildered face, wanting to see my reaction as he says, “You must be a virgin.” My lip trembles. His eyes eat me up, savoring the quiver of my lips, my wide, terrified eyes. I swear I feel his tongue flick over my pulse point, hear a low groan. “So innocent, so pure…” His grip tightens, and even confined by silver that should keep it from happening, his wolf flashes in his eyes. “Two of my favorite things to destroy.” Brooklyn A guard flies through the door. “Hands off!” he yells, but Aden has already released my wrist, raising his hands over his head, perfectly calm. “Sorry,” he says, back to smirking, his eyes on me. “Won’t happen again.” I blink at him, sitting back in my chair. I straighten my shoulders, unable to take my eyes off him. “Are you all right, miss?” the guard says, leaning forward to look me over. “I’m fine.” I rub my wrist with my other hand. I’m not hurt, just…shocked? Turned on? Confused? I clear my throat and look back down at my papers. “We will…we will proceed.” I work to steel myself, determined to regain control, to finish this interview. Failure isn’t an option if I want to graduate. I give Kenwood a steady glare, raising my chin. I’m tougher than he thinks I am. Picking up my pen again, I’m grateful that my hands aren’t shaking. “Please,” I say, focusing again on the paper. “Can you tell me about the crime for which you were imprisoned? I see—” “Your little skirt,” he says, grinning wolfishly at the fact that he’s riled me so easily, “is also very precious. You have beautiful legs, and that skirt’s the perfect length to—” “Please, Mr. Kenwood,” I repeat, surprised to hear it come out with a little growl. “I demand your respect during this process. Please be aware that what I report today will affect the rest of your time in prison, as well as your chances for early release. So I suggest that you take this process seriously.” Kenwood’s response is to laugh at me. “Darling,” he says, leaning forward again. “I couldn’t take you seriously if I tried.” I blink at him, stunned, but it quickly turns to rage. I clench my fist, my knuckles almost white, working to keep Lena’s temper at bay inside of me. The last place I can shift is here. Aden looks down at my fist and grins. “Now, now, Doc. No fair teasing. I like it a little rough.” “Mr. Kenwood,” I bite out, “if you aren’t interested in cooperating with me, I’d rather not waste my time. I’ll just let the guard know you’re being combative.” I stand up with bravado I don’t feel, and raise my hand, waving to the guard standing right outside the door. In a flash, Aden’s demeanor changes. Gone is the relaxed, playful wolf who’s been teasing me. Instead of the mischievous twinkle in his eyes at knocking me off-kilter, all the sharp edges and darkness are back. I can’t look away, overwhelmed, almost hypnotized by his glare. Finally, I dart my eyes away, staring down at the floor—anywhere but at him. “You looked away first.” He studies me. “Didn’t your parents, your Alpha teach you not to show weakness? Not to take your eyes off the enemy? In the battlefield, you’d have died by my hand—or my wolf’s teeth. Pitiful.” Riled, I raise my eyes to stare him down, determined not to look away first. “Good,” he laughs. “I like my girls with a little fight in them.” My face goes pale and red at once. I’m enraged, mortified to have fallen for his trick. I know better! But also—god dammit—I feel my nipples go hard under my blazer. His steely gaze moves to my chest, as if he knows it, the rumble of a growl in his chest deepening. I grab my pen again, scrawling words across the paper as fast as I can. Constantly defiant, ruthlessly sociopathic, no remorse. Recommend continued imprisonment, without parole. “This is finished.” I gather my papers as fast as I can, shoving them, crinkled, into my bag. He’s laughing softly as I hurry. I take a breath, throw my shoulders back, and then give him what I hope is a withering glare as I move towards the door. I pound twice on the metal, and the guard lets me out. I don’t look at Kenwood again as I start to leave. “Oh, Doc…” his voice echoes behind me. My cheeks burn and I grit my teeth as I turn to hear his parting words. “I’ll see you on the outside,” he says, giving me a dark smirk. “You can count on it.” “Not if I have anything to say about it,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I storm out, the guard shutting the door behind me. My paperwork recommends his eternal imprisonment. As far as I’m concerned, I’ll never see him again. And good riddance. However, when I return, I get on my laptop and open a search engine. My cheeks grow red for what feels like the millionth time today and I find myself typing “Aden Kenwood” into the search bar. I’m surprised by the results. The news channel that Dad watches every night calls Aden Kenwood the Werewolf Mafia King—or just “the Wolf King” sometimes, to appeal to the human demographic and pearl-clutchers. They are always detailing his dirty deeds, but the sites I’m looking show him standing in front of a tech company in Silicon Valley, calling him the CEO. Another site lists positive reviews of his many businesses, with employees suggesting that he’s a great boss. Still another… God, is that Brad Pitt he’s shaking hands with in that photo? Scrolling farther down, there are reports and articles about packs wanting to form and make him their Alpha. It appears he always declines… I gather my hair in my hands, passively starting to braid it as I look through the results, trying to match what I’m seeing here with the man I met in the prison the other day. “Whatcha looking at?” my sister, Jolie flops onto the couch, grabbing the laptop out of my hands. “Hey!” I squeal, snatching at it. “Jolie, give it back!” “Oooohhhh,” she says, scrolling through the photos of Aden. “Now this is a hottie who could light a little fire under me, for sure.” She nods appreciatively. “Who is this?” “Aden Kenwood,” I say, hugging my knees to my chest. “I had to interview him at the prison the other day because the shifter who usually does it was out and I was their only other shifter. He was…unnerving.” Jolie flicks her eyes to me, considering. “Did he scare you?” I shrug. “A little.” She narrows her eyes a bit, snapping the laptop shut. “Okay, that’s it. You’re coming out with me tonight, baby Brooklyn,” she says, sliding across the couch to give me a big hug. “You’ve had a hard time with your gay boyfriend and the scary Mafia King. You’ve got to have some fun!” I laugh, letting her wrap me up. “Okay, okay! Geeze, I’ll come.” Little did I know how much these separate aspects of my life would collide in just a few hours. *** The music pounds in the club and, I have to admit, I’m really starting to have fun. Lena is even loosening up a little bit, and she’s not as on edge as she has been the past few days. Though, she absolutely keeps throwing up images of Kenwood in my mind. Jolie dressed me tonight, which would usually make me uncomfortable, but for once, I let her take charge and decided to step out of my comfort zone and just go with it. What she calls a “dress” is more a sheet of silver fabric that falls across my front and then wraps low around my hips. It’s strapped together across my shoulders with a spiderweb of silver strings. Gotta give it up to that wolf shifter metabolism…I’m showing a lot of skin, but I know I look good. Despite spending the last couple of days drowning myself in Ben & Jerry’s. She also curled my long red hair into waves and gave me shadowy makeup and full red lips. Looking at myself in the club’s mirrored walls, I feel…well, I blush to admit it, but I feel really sexy. It’s a strange feeling. I’m not sure what I expected when Jolie took me to one of “her” clubs, but this feels nothing like a strip club. In fact, so far every woman dancing on the stages is fully clothed. I look around from my spot in a round corner booth, curious as to where everything else happens. Jolie sits down next to me then, laughing. She waves goodbye to the man she had been talking with, then turns her attention to me. Her eyes are a little glazed. “You having fun, baby Brooklyn?” She gives me a wide, inviting smile. I can’t help but smile back. “Yes,” I say, laughing. “Though I’m curious…where does…all the oth—" Jolie stiffens next to me, and I stop talking. Lena scents fear. I follow Jolie’s gaze. There’s a man standing across the VIP area, his arms crossed, staring at her. When I look, he starts to walk over. Jolie quickly jumps to her feet, reaching out her arms to wrap this big fat potato of a man in a hug. I grimace a little—he looks like he hasn’t showered in a while. Smells a bit like it, too. Definitely human. “Davis!” she says, and I can tell her voice is falsely cheerful. “How you been, gorgeous?” “Jolie,” he says, wrapping his hands around her upper arms and pushing her way from him. “We’ve got to talk.” “Have you met my little sister, Brooklyn?” She gestures towards me with a big smile. “Brooklyn, this is Miguel Davis, an old friend. He’s the manager of the club.” Davis’s eyes rove over me, taking in the generous portion of my thigh exposed by the little dress I’m wearing. I wasn’t uncomfortable before, but now I try to tug it down lower with my fist. Lena growls low inside me at this creep, but I have to keep her leashed. We’re not allowed to shift at all in establishments where humans go. “Um, hello,” I say, hesitant. He takes Jolie by her elbow. “Come on. We’re going to talk around back.” “Okay,” Jolie murmurs, suddenly serious. She leans down to whisper to me. “It’s just work stuff, don’t worry. Plus, wolf versus human. I got this.” I give her a little smile and nod, even though I’m not sure what her wolf can even do for her right now. Between the laws we have to follow and how glazed her eyes are from…whatever she took… Jolie follows Davis into the back. They’re gone for a long time. Anxiously, I run my hand over the underwire of my bra, feeling the tiny switchblade hidden there. The only possession my mother left to me in her will. I tucked it into my bra tonight, just in case. Without the ability to use my razor-sharp claws or my wolf, I like having it with me. I don’t really know how to use it, but it calms me to know that it’s there. Half an hour more and the door opens. My stomach drops. There’s Davis, but where’s my sister? Davis’s eyes catch on me as he starts to move farther out into the club. I see him mouth the word “shit,” and then he walks over to me. “Jolie’s sister, right?” “Yes. Where is she?” “She got sick. She’s just throwing up, but she’s a little green around the gills right now,” he says, gesturing towards his own neck. Alarm bells ring in my head. Wolf shifters don’t just get “get sick.” I stand and turn towards the staff door, intending to go find my sister, but he stops me. “No, listen,” he says. “She won’t want you to see her like this. Come with me, I’ll take you someplace where you can wait more comfortably.” He pulls me forward. I follow him, confused and worried as he pulls me quickly across the club to a black door, pushing it open. The inside is barely lit—a dark room with mirrors on the ceiling and tiny pinpricks of light coming up from the floor. A wide velvet bench wraps itself around the room with little black cocktail tables lined up in front of it. I blink, trying to let my eyes adjust, as Davis settles me into a little table by the door. “Wait here for a bit,” Davis says, looking beyond me. “I’ll have someone bring you a drink. Your sister will be fine soon.” Then, he walks away. Someone does bring me a drink, and I take a sip of it. But then I realize that it’s laced with something. My head starts to spin and I push it away from me. As my eyes adjust, I look around the room and realize that I’m not alone in here. Bodies, mostly in couples, writhe together on the black velvet seating. Some of them are dancing, but some… Well, that girl is on her knees. My eyes go wide as I realize what she is doing. I jump to my feet, blushing and heading for the door. As soon as I reach it, Davis comes back in. “Whoa whoa whoa!” he says, putting up hands to stop me. I shrink in front of him. “Where you going, baby?” He rubs a hand up and down my arm. Instinctively, I jerk my arm away from him. Davis keeps moving towards me, but for every step he takes, I take one backwards. Soon, I feel myself bump into a table behind me. He presses up against me. There’s nowhere else to go. “You’d better be a good girl for me,” Davis whispers, his hot breath on my face. “Or else your sister’s gonna pay. She owes me a lot of money. Tonight, you’re going to work some of it off.” I want to push him away but somehow I lose all my strength now. I’m scared to death, a little whimper escaping my mouth. “Do you mind?” The voice drawls from behind Davis. “That’s my doctor you’re harassing there.” I feel Davis’s weight lift off me as he turns towards the voice. I peer behind him, shocked. I recognize that deep, chocolate tone, and it sends a rush of heat straight between my legs. It can’t be…	LEARN_MORE	https://ysvox.com/kiss/booksAdvPage2/?id=66e3fba7f	Werewolf Fiction Club	https://www.facebook.com/100086297174750/	2,936	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	ysvox.com	VIDEO		https://ysvox.com/kiss/booksAdvPage2/?id=66e3fba7faa92e91eb0b7e71&mode=6&mediaType=fb&px=756695679720479&campaign_id={{campaign.id}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462737749_899760032080820_7111105389196333454_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nhuL9rj6Ld0Q7kNvgEcRjO-&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AXjeWqd04fD4XVXkbDsG0jK&oh=00_AYBYccPPCwWq_syPEXppzLOy_PxZBSfX8tuOoy0dwREMUA&oe=6710E85F	PERSON_PROFILE	Werewolf Fiction Club	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,147,357	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-10-11 19:57	active	1608	Windermere Valley Liberty Lake	Spirit Lake, ID - for $110,000		https://www.windermere.com/listing/ID/Spirit-Lake/	Adwerx Enterprise - Local Real Estate	https://www.facebook.com/100085012432536/	2	1969-12-31 18:00		windermere.com	IMAGE	Find your place	https://www.windermere.com/listing/ID/Spirit-Lake/Nna-N-8th-Street-83869/199762239	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462619720_1277567143393461_9040583444874542880_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=qfmghwSk1icQ7kNvgE-SYWH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AGHwQrwuX5a3wsKWmMNTTp-&oh=00_AYBIn4gqxlMwsK1kc2gssVt_Zngwyvz3tS7KH_4pcBn1QA&oe=670FA1F0	PERSON_PROFILE	Adwerx Enterprise - Local Real Estate	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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